“Ye’re implying yer daughter and I might have been somewhere we shouldnae have been, and I resent that because it isnae the case.” He turned to point above his head at the wall walk. “We were on the battlement. It is a place I like to go to think. I wanted us to have a moment to think.”
“Da, I want to stay. I didna want to come here at all, but I did as ye told me. Now, I’m asking ye to listen to what I want. I ken ye are still angry aboot last night and aboot Sir Alan. But I ken ye can tell Sir Alan and Tristan are naught alike. And I call him Tristan because he gave me and all of ye leave to do so yesterday.”
The wind seemed to leave Liam’s sail as he looked at the hopeful and eager expression on his daughter’s face. He was not a man who did not tell his daughter no. He had done it many times over the years, but this was one of the few times she asked for something for her and her alone. She always placed her kin and clan ahead of herself. Liam had been heartsick all day as he watched Alan, so he was relieved when a clear reason came for him to pack up his children and leave. He had been ready to find any excuse that was even remotely believable to extricate his daughter from the potential marriage. He would have even surrendered her dowry if it meant taking her home and keeping the peace.
He realized now that this might just be the right solution. A marriage to a laird would forge a stronger alliance than one to a laird’s stepbrother. More importantly, it seemed to be a marriage that would benefit his daughter, not her station.
“Aye.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We’ll stay on. But ma terms have changed. I dinna want to wait just a fortnight to sign the betrothal contract. We shall wait a full moon. If I sign it, then we shall wait at least two more moons before ye wed. Are we willing to host us that long?”
“Aye, Liam. Three moons or longer if that is what it takes to prove maself a worthy husband for yer daughter.”
Chapter Six
T
he next fortnight flew by in a whirlwind for both Mairghread and Tristan. They settled into a routine, and it began to seem as though Mairghread was already the lady of the keep. With Lady Beatris gone, not that she had ever fulfilled the duties well, Mairghread stepped in. She worked with the sisters Annag, the cook, and Morag, the housekeeper, to set the menu and oversee the keep’s maintenance.
The second day of helping the servants made Mairghread realize she needed to investigate the castle accounts. Things were poorly managed in the storerooms, and they overstocked some supplies while others were almost completely gone. Tristan handed them over to her without hesitation, and she spent an afternoon in his solar pouring over them. Since Beatris never learned to read or write, and the kitchen staff were not able to either, the ledgers were a mess. Beatris had made what looked like chicken scratches to tally items, but there were so many inaccuracies that Mairghread lost count. In fact, she gave up count. She reverted to the beginning of the year and attempted to make corrections. It took her almost four hours of painstaking work to bring the records to her satisfaction. Afterwards, she made a thorough inventory of all the storerooms in the keep. That took her the rest of the afternoon and into midmorning the next day.
Throughout the chores, she was kind to the kitchen and housekeeping servants. Mairghread asked questions to learn their methods and routines. She did her best not to change anything that was not absolutely necessary. She wanted to fit in not overrun them. Once she was confident the kitchen was in order, she began an inventory of other household goods such as candles and linens. She realized immediately that they were running low on candles. Even though it was still summer, she understood the days would soon grow shorter. They would need an ample stock of candles to see the clan through winter. Much to the surprise and even shock of many of the servants, Mairghread brought out all the supplies and set them up on a trestle table in the Great Hall. Then she rolled up her sleeves and got to work. No noblewoman had helped make candles since the current laird’s father’s mother had been alive. When they finished the candles and stored them away, Mairghread turned her attention to the castle’s laundresses.
She met them early one morning after breaking her fast. She approached and picked up a wet sheet and pinned it to the line. After she did three more, she turned to find all the women gawking at her.
“Can ye nae use an extra set of hands?” she asked the group.
It took a moment before anyone formulated an answer, but Aignes, the head washerwoman, stepped forward.
“Ma lady, ye are a noblewoman and a guest here. We canna have ye working in the laundry. It just isnae done.”
“Aignes, isnae it? I’ve been helping hang laundry since I was auld enough to climb on an overturned bucket and reach the lines. I’m happy to help ye, if ye’ll let me.”
The women all looked at each other and then at Mairghread’s smiling face. They nodded and got back to work. She blended into the group so well that the women forgot who she was. Mairghread soon picked up all the juiciest pieces of gossip. By the nooning, she learned which wife would have a redheaded bairn when she and her husband both had brown hair. The young women pointed which guardsman had put on a disappointing display for a woman he had been chasing for months. She discovered which families had sick children and which families were struggling. It was these last pieces of information that she tucked away to discuss with Tristan later.
And so, each morning during that first fortnight progressed similarly just as the afternoons did. Mairghread would break her fast with her family and Tristan. The men would go out to the lists to train, and Mairghread would remain to tend to her duties and chores. The men sometimes returned for the noon meal, but at other times, they ate on the training field. However, no matter where Tristan took his midday meal, he always returned to spend the afternoon with Mairghread.
It took the clan two days to realize the reason why the Sinclairs stayed on. The chief was courting Lady Mairghread. It was the consensus of the clan that she was a wise choice. She was openhearted to everyone she met, but she was also among the hardest working people who labored in and around the keep. There was not a job she would not do if it needed doing. She never asked more of anyone than she would do herself. The clan realized Mairghread did not agree that there was any job beneath her. They approved wholeheartedly since it was a reprieve from Lady Beatris.
In the afternoons, Tristan would take Mairghread out for walks around the bailey to introduce her to more of the clan and to explain the clan’s operations. Sometimes he took her for walks by the loch.
On a particularly warm day, she stripped off her shoes and stocking, hoisted her skirts to her knees, and waded in to just above her ankles. Tristan watched, speechless. He had never seen a lady, any other grown women, do that. She turned to face him and had a pure look of innocence on her face. This was just moments before she kicked water all down the front of Tristan’s clothes. She laughed so hard she almost lost her balance. Tristan was not to be outdone. He marched into the loch, boots and all, and hefted her into his arms. He pretended to be prepared to throw her into the water. She squealed with delight. She encouraged him to do it, stating she was too warm anyway. It was the first time he had her in his arms since they stood on the battlements together. They shared some dances after the evening meal, but he was unable to hold her as close as he wanted.
On other days, Tristan took Mairghread for rides across the meadow. Mairghread asked to exercise Firelight, and Tristan seized the opportunity to spend time with Mairghread. It was a chance for him to leave the keep with just his personal guard rather than any of her brothers, who had been constant companions to all their other outings.
Since they went some distance outside the castle wall, he would take his ten best guardsmen. He convinced the Sinclair men that with ten men to guard Mairghread, there was not much that might happen to her. He was certain they understood his meaning—there was not much he could do with her. Laird Sinclair relented even though his sons stood shoulder to shoulder with their arms crossed as the conversation ende
d. Tristan thought to himself how he would not want to come across that wall of men on the battlefield. They were a surge engine unto themselves.
Most of these rides involved Mairghread riding Firelight while Tristan rode his war horse, Thunder, but sometimes they rode together on Thunder. Tristan explained the massive horse earned his name for the sound he made as a foal when he kicked the sides of his stall. Fully grown, Thunder stood at seventeen hands and was at least two hands taller than Firelight, a horse that was already considered large. Thunder had a massive head and broad shoulders that carried Tristan to survival and victory frequently.
It was towards the end of Mairghread’s first fortnight at Castle Varrich, Tristan decided he would rather share a mount than ride separately. He almost swallowed his tongue the first time they rode out together on Thunder. He stepped into Thunder’s stall to saddle him while Mairghread waited. She brought an apple to Firelight as an apology for leaving him behind. She said she did not want him to feel left out or slighted. Tristan laughed and teased her about being so in tune with her horse’s feelings, but when Tristan turned around to bring the bridle to Thunder’s head, his heart stopped then lurched forward. It terrified him to see Mairghread’s outstretched hand holding an apple for Thunder. Thunder did not like anyone other than Tristan and the senior stable master. He had bitten and kicked many others throughout his life.
Tristan began to drop the bridle to rush forward when Thunder nickered, and Tristan watched him nibble the apple off Mairghread’s hand. He watched in awe as she blew into his nostrils and then leaned her cheek onto his massive head. She reached her hand over her head and rubbed Thunder between his eyes. Tristan was mesmerized as his ornery warhorse become gentle as a lamb under Mairghread’s ministrations. If Tristan had not already been falling in love with Mairghread, seeing her with his horse sealed his fate.
“I canna believe ye were able to feed him or that he let ye touch him. He doesnae like anyone.”
“Well, he seems to like me well enough. Perhaps he kens ye and I are friends, so he trusts me.”
Friends? Friends? Friends!
Tristan did not want to trust his ears. Is that what she considered them?
“Are we just friends then?” He asked as he placed the bridle over Thunder’s head. He looked back over his shoulder and noticed a pretty blush coming to her cheeks.
“Aye. I’d like to think we are. I think we get along well and enjoy each other’s company. Isnae that what ye would want from someone ye are considering marrying?”
“So ye think we might become more than friends? Ye still think we might marry?”
“Of course, I do. Dinna ye? It’s the reason that I’m still here. If I didna still want to get to ken ye or think I might marry ye, I would have asked ma da to take me home.”
“I still want to marry ye. I want to very much, but I wasna sure what ye meant by friends. It sounded like perhaps ye dinna consider me as a future husband.”
“I’d rather be friends with ma future husband than enemies or ambivalent.”
“Och, aye. Then friends we are.”
That day, Tristan walked Thunder out of the stables and helped Mairghread into the saddle. Most of the time, she rode pillion behind him, but her placed her in front of him. When he settled behind her, he realized this would be the sweetest type of torture. Her backside was nestled between his thighs, and his arm wrapped around her middle just below her breasts. His cock twitched and began to lengthen. He shifted in the saddle to give her some room. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her with his staff rubbing against her back.
After a fortnight of spending afternoons together, both Tristan and Mairghread were almost going out of their minds with unspent desire and lust. They shared many heated looks and found any opportunity to brush their bodies against each other. Mairghread’s body ached to hold his against her like it did when they rode Thunder together. Tristan barely hung on to his wits since he became hard at the mere thought of Mairghread. When his eyes landed on her or he caught a whiff of her fragrance, he almost spilled his seed without even touching her.
Chapter Seven
I
t all came to a frenzied head on one of their rides on Thunder. Tristan wrapped his arm around Mairghread as they galloped across the meadow. He drew small circles under her breast with his thumb. Mairghread’s inhale pressed her back against his chest, and it pushed her breasts into his arm, making his reflexes tighten his hold. She melted back into him and tucked her head into his shoulder. He rolled his wrist so his hand grasped the underside of her breast. She wiggled in the saddle, making her backside rub up against his stiff shaft. Moving with the motion of the horse, Tristan rocked his hips forward, so his cock rubbed between the cheeks of her backside. Her soft moan whispered in his ears when she wriggled again, trying to gain more contact through their clothes. Tristan failed to stifle his own groan as his cock throbbed for release. He turned Thunder towards the tree line and looked over his shoulder to his men. He gave a short whistle, and the guardsmen reined in some distance from the tree line where Tristan halted Thunder. As he helped Mairghread down, he let her body slide along the length of his. They needed no words as their eyes communicated the burning need they could no longer ignore.
Tristan grasped her hand and walked along the trees while making inane comments about them as he pointed to various ones. He attempted to be discreet by leading his men to believe he was showing her the local flora and fauna. He was sure they well knew of what was happening, but perhaps he hoped to offer some reassurance to Mairghread that they did not have an audience. He tugged her hand and led her into the trees. Once past a large oak tree, he pulled her into his arms and backed her against the tree trunk. Her arms slid up and around his neck, and she rose on her tiptoes. She met his mouth half way. The first press of their lips was soft, but within seconds it erupted into a firestorm. He wrapped one arm around her waist and sifted the fingers of his other hand into the hair above her nap. His tongue pressed along the seam of her lips. It took a moment for Mairghread to realize what he wanted, but once she did, she opened her mouth to his invading tongue. With little consideration and on instinct, she began to suck on his tongue. Tristan growled and dropped his hand to her buttocks. He squeezed hard and pulled up so she was almost lifted off her feet. She pressed her hips into his and ground her mound against his cock. She was positive there was a length of steel behind his plaid. He had already pushed his sporran out of the way when he pulled her against him, so there was only the material of his breacan feile and her kirtle keeping them from touching skin to skin. Tristan glided his hand down her nape to her shoulder and around the front to the ties of her gown. He yanked at them then caressed down the front to grasp her breast. It fit in his hand as though it was made for him. He was a large man and had large hands, and Mairghread was more endowed than he realized as it filled his hand with his fingers spread open. He squeezed and massaged her breast and her buttocks. She moaned and whimpered as she wanted more but was not sure what that was.
“Tristan, please. I dinna ken what’s happening to me, but I need ye. Please.”
“I ken, little flame. I ken.”
Tristan leaned forward and licked her exposed nipple. He laved it and swirled his tongue before taking it fully into his mouth and sucking on it. Mairghread gasped. She had never felt anything like it, her breasts full and heavy. She arched her back to press her breast further into his mouth as his hands traveled to grasp the ends of her skirts. He tugged them up and squeezed her buttocks before lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and rocked against his shaft.
“I need more, Tristan. I ache so badly that it hurts, but I dinna ken what to do.”
“I shall help ye. I can make the ache go away and bring ye pleasure.”
She looked into his eyes. There was a mixture of need, confusion, and worry.
“Mair, I willna take yer maidenhead until ye’re ma wife. But I will make ye mine and mine alone. I’ll touch ye where no
other mon ever has, and no other mon ever will.”
With that, he turned and slid his back down the trunk of the tree. When he sat, she straddled his lap. He squeezed her buttocks again and leaned forward, taking her nipple back into his mouth. His fingers inched towards her hot, wet sheath. He dipped the fingers of one hand into her slick seam. He brought the other hand around to rub his thumb across her pleasure nub. Mairghread’s head fell back as she rocked against him. Her moans were almost enough to undo him. Tristan aroused further when the tip of his cock began leaking. Tristan had not been this close to climaxing without a woman touching him since he first realized what a man did with a lass. He was so hard he was convinced he would explode, but he would do nothing about it now. He was introducing Mairghread to passion and pleasure. It was about her and not him in this moment. He would either take himself in hand later, as he had been doing at least twice a day since she agreed to stay on, or he would take yet another dunk in the loch when they returned.
For now, he slipped two fingers into her. She was so tight, and his rod had a mind of its own. It was already imagining itself buried hilt deep. His cock pulsed.
Mairghread’s body did not ignore the twitches coming from Tristan’s rod, and it almost drove her mad. She reached below her skirts and grasped Tristan’s hand. She guided another finger into her.
“Tristan, I need more. I can feel how large yer shaft is. Ma body kens what it will take to feel full. It’s yer cock, and if I canna have that, then I need more from yer fingers.”
She surprised Tristan, but it pleased him that Mairghread trust him enough to speak aloud her desires and wants. He did not want a dead fish for a bed partner. He had known all along that Mairghread would be passionate, but he had not been sure that she would be open to telling him what she wanted. Once again, she amazed him. He could tell from her reactions and her uncertainty that she was untried, so he did not worry that she had been with anyone else.
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