The Chase

by Lynsay Sands

  Once straddling him, Seonaid slid her body back and forth over him, but while that eased her frustrations at first, it did not wholly satisfy her. She wanted to feel him inside her again, filling her to capacity and plunging in and out as he had done before. Shifting, she reached down and found him with her hand, then steered him to where she wanted him and eased herself down. A small sigh slid from her lips as he filled her, and she peered at him through half-closed eyes as she wiggled with pleasure.

  Blake watched her, a small smile stretching his lips; then he suddenly sat up, caught her beneath the behind, and lifted and shifted her.

  "Oh!" Seonaid gasped, her legs moving around his back of their own accord as their bodies rubbed together in a more satisfying manner. Then Blake shifted with her and dropped her on the bed. He came down on top of her, driving into her with the move and surprising a grunt from her. Seonaid caught her arms around him, her fingers digging first into his shoulders, then shifting beneath his arms to clutch at his back, and finally dropping to cup and knead his behind and urge him on as he propelled them both toward the release she was craving.

  Truly, if she had realized what she was missing due to his dallying in collecting her, Seonaid thought she might have hunted the man down and dragged him back to marry her.

  In fact, she decided, she would have a good talking to him later about all the time he'd wasted. On the other hand, she had already admitted that she was benefitting from the skills he had learned while neglecting her, and perhaps he would not have been so skilled had she gone after him. Perhaps everything had its time, and this was theirs. She determined to simply enjoy it and the fact that she had a husband who could do this for her. She suspected that this would not be as enjoyable with less skilled men, and that her father had done her a grand favor in betrothing her to the dreaded Sherwell. She'd keep that to herself, though. There was no sense giving her father a fat head.

  Blake caught her head in hand, turning her to seal his lips on hers, and Seonaid suspected he had recognized that her thoughts had wandered. He now forced them back to him and what he was doing as he thrust his tongue into her mouth in time with his thrusting body, and Seonaid gave up thinking about anything as they both struggled toward and finally found their explosive release.

  A knock at the door made Seonaid's eyes flutter open. Her gaze slid over the empty expanse of bed beside her, then she pushed herself up on one arm and peered around the equally empty room. She had apparently dozed off again. Blake had not. Or, if he had, he'd already awakened and left the room

  A second knock made her growl, "Aye?"

  The door opened at once and Janna entered, a bright smile on her face. "Good morn, m'lady."

  "Morn," Seonaid grunted automatically, then opened her mouth to ask what the woman wanted, only to snap it closed again when several servants traipsed in behind her. Half of them carried empty buckets, which they used to empty the tub, scooping the cold water out and dumping it out the window. The rest of the servants carried bucket after bucket of fresh water.

  "I didna order a bath," she said.

  "Lord Blake ordered it, m'lady," Janna informed her. Then, as the last woman entered bearing fresh linens, she added, "He ordered the bed remade too."

  Seonaid glanced around. She was naked as the day she'd been born, covered just by the sheet she was lying on, twisted up and pulled across her torso as if Blake had tried to leave her decently shielded. The rest of the linens and furs from the bed, as well as the cushions, were scattered willy-nilly on the floor. Even the base sheet was gone.

  Rearranging the sheet twisted around her so that she wore it in the old Roman toga fashion, Seonaid stumbled off the bed and began tossing the furs and cushions back onto it as she searched for the bottom bed linen. She knew from when Iliana and Duncan had married that her father, Rolfe, and the bishop would soon arrive to witness the bed linen and the blood that should stain it, proving she had been a virgin last night. But the linen was nowhere to be seen.

  "The bottom linen is missing," she said with concern.

  "Aye, m'lady. Lord Blake brought it below with him earlier so yer father and the others would no disturb ye."

  Seonaid grimaced. The stupid thing would be slung over the banister and hanging down into the great hall by now, for all to witness her innocence. At least, that was what they had done with the linen from Iliana and Duncan's wedding night. The idea actually made her squirm, but she merely grunted and walked to the tub as the last of the water was dumped in.

  She hadn't been terribly interested in the idea of yet another bath on first realizing they were preparing her one. Preferring not to smell like a barn animal, Seonaid had never shunned baths as her brother used to before Iliana taught him the benefits of bathing. But four or more baths in two days seemed excessive. However, the moment she stood up and started to move, she'd become aware of the sticky wetness between her legs, and the idea of a bath was suddenly appealing. She saw many, many baths in her future if Blake continued to be as enthusiastic as he had been last night.

  It had been considerate of her husband to think of it. She smiled softly to herself. He had proven himself very considerate indeed last night. Lady Wildwood had said that some women enjoyed the bedding part of marriage and some did not. Some women detested it, but she had found over the years that those who did not like it usually had selfish husbands who did not trouble to be sure their wives found any pleasure. She had added that from all she had heard of Blake Sherwell, Seonaid would not have that problem. And she had been right. The man had been most thoughtful. In fact, she was sure that she had found more pleasure than he last night. And this morning.

  "Shall I stay and help ye with yer bath, m'lady?" Janna's question drew her attention to the fact that the servants were finished filling the tub and making the bed and were now filing out of the room.

  "Nay. I--" Seonaid began.

  "We'll help." Aeldra entered the open door, with Helen on her heels.

  "They'll help." Seonaid dropped her sheet and stepped into the hot water. "Thank ye, Janna."

  "Aye, m'lady." Janna slipped out, pulling the door closed behind her as Helen and Aeldra moved to the tub. Both women watched silently as Seonaid began to run the flower-scented soap over her body.

  "Well?" Aeldra said after several moments had passed in silence.

  Seonaid lifted her head and glanced at her in question. "Well, what?"

  Aeldra tsked with irritation. "Well, how was it?" she expounded. "What was it like?"

  Seonaid grinned at the question. How was it? Sweet Jesu.

  Aeldra contemplated her expression, then began to grin as well. "That good, huh?"

  Seonaid started to laugh. "Ye wouldna believe it."

  "Judging by the mess yer hair is in, mayhap I would," she said with amusement, and Seonaid raised a hand to feel the back of her head, frowning at the rat's nest it had become. She was confused for a moment, then recalled twisting and thrashing her head back and forth on the bed and understood.

  "You shall need help with that," Helen murmured, kneeling beside the tub. "Come, I shall wash your hair. Tip it back."

  Seonaid did as instructed, tipping her head back as Helen picked up a bucket, scooped some water out of the tub and poured it over her hair, trying to avoid pouring any over her face. Once she had soaked her hair thoroughly, the woman began to wash it with what was left of the herbal vinegar from the night before, working her fingers through the knots as she went.

  "Yer getting yer veil wet," Aeldra warned Helen and Seonaid smiled faintly as the other woman tsked with irritation. When the work on her hair paused, Seonaid opened her eyes and turned her head slightly to the side to see Helen removing her headwear to reveal her red hair pulled back in a knot.

  " 'Tis annoying anyway," Helen muttered, setting it aside. " 'Tis hot and bothersome. I will put it back on afterward."

  Seonaid said nothing. She merely smiled, closed her eyes, and tipped her head back again for the work on her hair to continue
. They were all silent for a moment; then Aeldra said, "So yer no goin' to get more specific about what happened?"

  There was a pause, and Seonaid supposed Aeldra was giving her a chance to speak up if she so desired, but she held her tongue. There was no way to describe what had happened last night. She could tell them what he'd done, but until they'd experienced it, neither woman would understand what he'd done.

  Heaving an irritated sigh, Aeldra continued, "Then I suppose we might as well figure out what we're goin' to do next."

  Seonaid smiled softly, her mind immediately going to Blake. She wondered where he was and when they would next get to--

  "About Helen's problem," Aeldra added dryly, apparently reading Seonaid's expression.

  She felt ashamed of herself. She had completely forgotten Helen's problem. Good Lord! How could she forget the threat to the woman's life and the possible threat against her father?

  "Seonaid?" Aeldra said when she remained silent for several moments.

  "Aye," she murmured, opening her eyes to assure them she had not fallen asleep. "I was thinkin'."

  "What did you come up with?" Helen asked eagerly.

  Seonaid started to give her head a slight shake but stopped right away as Helen began to pour more of the vinegar and herb mixture over it. "I am no sure what to do. I had decided yesterday that it might be best to go to Father with the problem."

  "Your father?" Helen sounded unsure.

  "Aye." She blinked her eyes open to stare at the woman. "He could arrange a proper escort, or send one messenger to yer father and another to the king. Aeldra and I might have been able to sneak ye down to England and escorted ye to yer father's keep using the passage, but without it ..." She shrugged helplessly. "Yer chances are better with me Father providin' an escort."

  "Aye," she admitted reluctantly. "But what if they attack your father's escort?"

  Seonaid pursed her lips. "He may think 'tis best to send messengers and keep ye safe here in Dunbar."

  "Oh, Seonaid." Helen sighed. "That is what he did for Lady Wildwood, and 'tis what brought about Greenweld's attack on Dunbar. I would not wish to cause such a thing to happen again."

  "Well, he may come up with a better idea," Seonaid said quietly. "Father has lived a long time and seen much. I think we should let him ken the truth o' the matter at least and make suggestions. If he doesna come up with something we like, we can always sneak off again and try on our own."

  "Oh, I do not think that is a good idea at all."

  All three women jerked their heads around to the open door at Lady Wildwood's words. Iliana's mother stood in the open door, her gaze focused on Helen, an expression of recognition on her face.

  "Forgive me for entering without knocking," Lady Wildwood murmured, pushing the door closed. "I was about to when I overheard what you were speaking of."

  She crossed the room, her gaze fixed on the redhead still kneeling by the tub. "Lady Helen de Bethencourt. I thought you looked familiar when I first laid eyes on you, but the outfit confused me," she admitted.

  Seonaid glanced toward Helen, who paused before speaking. "Lady Wildwood. I recognized you as well. You were a friend of my mother's."

  "Aye." Iliana's mother smiled slightly, then glanced to Seonaid and Aeldra and explained, "Helen's mother and I were friends of Queen Anne's. We were often at court together."

  "Ah," Seonaid murmured, then smiled at Helen with amusement. "Ye didna mention ye had friends in such high places."

  "I do not," Helen said with a blush. "My mother was a friend of the queen's, but both of them are gone now."

  "You still have influential friends, my dear," Lady Wildwood said gently. "The king is as fond of you as the queen was." She sighed, her gaze slipping to Seonaid. "You look very well, my dear. I am glad to see you survived the night."

  "Thanks," Seonaid murmured.

  "Now ..." Margaret perched on one of the chairs by the cold fireplace and eyed them all expectantly. "Why do you not tell me how Helen came to be traveling with you disguised as a nun? Then we can decide how best to present this to the men."

  Seonaid smiled wryly at the woman. Despite her phrasing, it was not a request but an order. Lady Wildwood was a woman used to getting her way, and this time was no exception. Iliana's mother sat patiently listening as the three women took turns explaining what had occurred since their meeting in the chapel at St. Simmian's. They left nothing out, revealing every step of the journey. By the time they fell silent, Seonaid had finished with her bath and donned her clothes. The three women then waited for Lady Wildwood to comment.

  She said nothing for the longest time, but sat, her face pensive. She was obviously deep in thought. Then she nodded to herself and stood. "Come along, then."

  "What're ye goin' to do?" Seonaid asked as she followed her to the door.

  "I shall take care of everything," she said simply as she opened the door, then paused to smile at Seonaid and reached up to brush a strand of black hair off her face in a gesture that smacked of affection. "You have had it very hard not having a mother, haven't you? Both of you have."

  She had included Aeldra in her glance, and Seonaid's cousin opened her mouth as if to protest, then closed it again. Seonaid supposed Giorsal had not been much of a maternal replacement with her bitterness and anger. Of course, she didn't know why she herself had not protested that life had been hard without a mother. She was happy with the way things had turned out, was she not? She had not missed anything. In fact, Seonaid had more freedom than most women were given. And if she had watched other girls receiving hugs and affection from their mothers, and seen the way they were coddled and cared for and felt a pang, surely it was not envy.

  "I shall take care of this for you," Lady Wildwood said. "Trust me."

  She turned and started out the door, and Seonaid stared after her for a minute before turning to Aeldra and Helen. The three women peered at each other uncertainly for a moment, then moved as one to follow Iliana's mother below.

  Chapter Thirteen

  "'Tis settled then," Angus Dunbar decided. "We shall head out the morn after next. Ye and Seonaid will ride with us into England, then split off and head to Sherwell."

  Blake shifted with displeasure on the trestle table bench but did not refute his father-in-law's words. He really had no desire to travel with Lord Rolfe, the bishop, Lady Wildwood, Angus, Sister Helen, and the king's men, as well as the small army Angus was taking with them to travel into England but could think of no excuse to avoid it. He wished he could. Sleeping out in the open with all those people about was bound to dampen his love life.

  He smiled to himself wryly at the thought. Much to his surprise, he was rather enjoying married life so far. Despite their ill-favored beginnings, he and Seonaid appeared to be getting along now. It still shocked him that she had not tried to battle her way out of the keep when it was announced that the wedding would take place right away, and his worry that she would had apparently been obvious, for Lady Wildwood had approached him to assure him all would be well. He didn't know what the woman had said to his betrothed, but whatever it was had worked, and Seonaid had stood silent and complacent for the ceremony. And as for last night ...

  Blake had discovered that, while Seonaid could be hard and cold as steel, there was a surprisingly soft and vulnerable side to her as well. In truth, she was turning out to be a fascinating mass of contradictions. She was also as uninhibited a woman in bed as he had ever met, which gave him hope that marriage might not be as bad as he'd feared. In fact, he was enjoying it so far.

  Unfortunately, as uninhibited as his new bride was, he suspected even she would balk at engaging in anything with her father snoring but feet away.

  "And after ye and Seonaid split off and head fer Sherwell, the rest o' us will continue south toward court," Angus finished with satisfaction.

  "Until you need to split off from the group to see Sister Helen home," the bishop pointed out, and Blake wasn't surprised to see his father-in-law grimace at th
e reminder. He was fairly sure the man had no desire to take over Seonaid's promise to see Sister Helen home but was using the excuse as a way to remain close to Lady Wildwood for as long as he could. The man's feelings for the woman were plain for all to see.

  "Aye," Angus said, disgruntled. "Wherever that may be. I wish Margaret--er, Lady Margaret," he corrected himself. "I wish she'd hurry about fetchin' the girl back here so we could find out where exactly that is. I'm thinkin'--" He paused suddenly and beamed a smile over Blake's shoulder. "Ah, there ye are. Thank ye fer fetchin' her, Lady Margaret. Now, Sister Helen, we're plannin' the journey into England and need to know where yer home is."

  Blake glanced over his shoulder to see that Lady Wildwood had indeed brought the girl down. Seonaid and Aeldra also accompanied her. Blake's gaze slid over his wife, a small smile tugging at his lips as he examined her in her braies. She had a different pair on today. They were faded and worn and obviously several years old, the cloth fitting more snugly than the pair he was used to seeing her in. They outlined and defined every curve from her waist down and put Blake's mind to thoughts of dragging her back abovestairs.

  It was going to be a long journey until they reached England and could separate from the rest of the group.

  "Actually, my lords," Lady Wildwood said, drawing Blake's attention, "Lady Helen is from Bethencourt, and I fear getting her safely home may be trickier than you had thought."

  Blake was slow to understand her words. His gaze slid to the nun in confusion, and it was only then, on his second glance, that he realized she looked different. She was no longer wearing her head covering. Instead, she had pulled her long red hair back into a knot similar to the one Seonaid wore.

  "Lady Helen?" Lord Rolfe asked slowly.

  "Lady Helen Cameron, nee Bethencourt," Lady Wildwood said, then settled on the bench beside Angus, and explained to the men how the women had pulled the wool over their eyes.

  Blake felt satisfaction claim him when Seonaid settled herself on the bench at his side. He listened with interest to the tale Lady Wildwood was revealing. His gaze kept sliding to Lord Rolfe as the woman talked, and he grinned inwardly at the emotions crossing the other man's face. Irritation not that she wasn't a nun, but that he had been led to believe she was. Outrage over Cameron's intentions, and determination to see her safe. Blake suspected the other man was about as good as wedded to the little redhead. He had noticed the man's protective behavior to her throughout the journey here, and the way his eyes had always seemed to trail the little nun. He'd suspected the man was attracted to her and had pitied him, but now things had changed, and he wasn't surprised when Lord Rolfe said, "Then I shall be the one to see her safely home. The king is a friend of Bethencourt; he would wish it so."