Page 34 of How to Heal a Highland Heart
Brodee wanted Patience. Fiercely. But that was lust, and he would control his lust rather than compel her to join with him when it was obvious she did not want to. He had no interest in bedding the lass for his own pleasure when she’d gain nothing from it. Hopefully, she’d soon see beyond the moniker people had given him and come to realize he would not hurt her and, instead, wanted to bring her pleasure. He felt almost certain she’d enjoyed their kiss. He’d build on that, little by little, until desire for him stirred in her.
“I’m going to remove the obstacles holding her back from being a real member of this clan,” Brodee explained. “And then I will see her true character, as will everyone else.”
“And what if ye dunnae like what ye see? What if she’s as cold and conceited as they believe?”
“She’s nae. I’d wager my life on it.”
William grinned. “Ye certainly are willing to risk a great deal for a woman ye dunnae have any intention of caring about.”
William was right, and Brodee hated to admit it, so he glared at him instead. William responded with a chuckle, and then he said, “Do ye ken what I think?”
“Could I stop ye from telling me even I dunnae wish to hear it?”
“Nay,” William replied with a wink. He leaned over, grabbed Brodee’s goblet, and finished the wine that was in it. He set the goblet on the floor by his feet with athunk. “I think ye will find it verra hard nae to care about yer wife if she proves to be the woman ye are defending and nae the woman the Kincaides think she is.”
“And I think I need sleep and so do ye. I want ye to train the men with me tomorrow after the nooning meal until supper.”
William nodded and stood. “What do ye wish me to do in the morning?”
“Find and follow Kinsey. I’ve an odd feeling about her, and I wish to have answers.”
William parted with a wave of his hand, and Brodee took to his bed, but this time sleep claimed him quickly. Yet his sleep was not restful. His dreams were filled with his past and his present. He dreamed over and over of the day he found Arabel dead, except every time he turned her over to see her face, it was Patience’s face. He awoke before dawn in a sweat and filled with a sense of dread. It had been a long time since he’d worried about a woman, and he did not like it one bit. He barely knew the lass. How the devil would it be when he knew truly who she was? The thought made him groan.
“Again,” Brodee demanded the next morning of Cul as they faced each other on the rocky shore that encompassed the west side of Crag Donnon Castle. The sun had just risen in the sky, making the sweat that dripped off Cul visible. He would give this to the man: he’d been here before dawn, just as Brodee had told him to be, he’d not complained once, and he’d worked hard in his training. He was actually a fairly good fighter, and with training he could be great. He was simply young, only twenty-two summers.
“Keep yer sword up,” Brodee commanded swinging his own blade high above his head in an arc to make a slash at Cul from the left. The man met the incoming hit and managed to push Brodee’s sword back, but when Brodee came immediately from the left, Cul was not ready. Steel met steel, the vibrations of the hit tingling down Brodee’s arm, but he pushed through the feelings and forced the sword from the younger man’s hands. It went flying and landed with a loudwhackagainst the rocks. “Again,” Brodee commanded, sweat now dripping from his own forehead. He swiped it away with the back of his hand as Cul moved to fetch his sword.
When Cul turned toward him, Brodee said simply, “Again.”
They came together once more, and Brodee once again knocked Cul’s sword from his hands. Brodee repeated the lesson until Cul fell to his knees with fatigue and wretched up the supper left in his stomach from the night before.
Brodee kneeled down by Cul as the young man swiped a hand across his mouth. “Why did ye imagine ye could beat me?” Brodee asked, not to taunt the younger man or out of a sense of his own merit as a fighter, but out of curiosity.
Cul’s face reddened. “Kinsey convinced me I could.”
“Kinsey?” Brodee asked with a frown.
“Aye,” Cul said and kicked at a pebble as the blush reached his neck and made it splotchy. “She whispered in my ear that I should challenge ye, that I could best ye. That it would please her and turn her eye to me. I… It was foolish.”
“Ye like her?” Brodee asked, not voicing the other questions in his head. Was Kinsey plotting something or had she simply been goading Cul to see if he would do her bidding?
The man’s blush deepened to a shade Brodee had not known possible, and Cul nodded. “Aye, but ’twas nae until verra recently that she has shown that she even kens I’m alive. And I’m nae the only one.”
“Who else?”
“Ulric. She flirts with us both. One night she’ll dance with me, and the next she’ll be in Ulric’s arms.”
Ah. Likely the lass was toying with the men. “Has Ulric trained ye?” Brodee asked.
“Aye. Personally. Which is another reason why I thought I could best ye.”
Ulric had clearly, deliberately not trained the younger man well, and he said as much to Cul. “He has nae given ye proper training, and I fear it was purposeful.”
“I’ll deal with Ulric,” Brodee said. “As to Kinsey, I think ye’d be better served pursuing a lass who only has eyes for ye.”
“I’m thinking ye’re right. Have ye appointed a personal guard for Lady Kincaide?”
Brodee smiled at Cul’s eagerness. He remembered a time when he was very eager to please his father and serve him, and his father made him feel worthless for a very long time. He’d vowed never to do that to another. “I’ve nae appointed her guard yet. Are ye asking for the position?”
