The Beast
Page 21
When his mouth covered her breast and he took the tip in, sucking it hard, she cried out a second release threatening.
“Finish with me,” Duncan gasped, taking the other tip in, and pulling it with his teeth. It wasn’t gentle, but not painful either. There was an effect from his actions. Beatrice began to flail beneath him until she lost grasp of reality, floating above them, free as a bird.
Ten days later…
Beatrice hurried through the great room to the kitchen in search of Gara. The woman looked up from the pot she stirred when Beatrice entered. “What can I do for ye, Lady Beatrice?”
“I am most hungry this morning,” she explained. “Could I have toast and tea? Once Misters Duncan and Caelan rise then we will have first meal together.”
The woman gave her a warm look. “Ye have been very hungry since arriving. Are ye with child?”
The thought of it terrified her. Not the having children, those she badly wanted. It was the entire idea of birthing, not something she planned to go through anytime soon. “I certainly hope not,” she replied and then amended by stating. “Not so soon anyway.”
Gara nodded. “It is a beautiful experience, except for one day.” She laughed at her own joke and grinned. “Tea and toast will be brought shortly.”
Once seated in the great room, Beatrice considered the possibility of being with child. Unable to remember when her last monthly courses had been, she stood and paced the room. Surely, she must have had them since marrying. In her mind, she calculated the time since her courses had come and left and then began counting days until marrying Duncan.
“Oh no,” she whispered harshly.
“Is something wrong?” Duncan had entered and stood near the end of the table.
“I forgot yer mother and Isobel were coming tomorrow. I am not sure to have proper items for a good meal. I will have to travel to the village this morning.” It was true, however, that was not the reason she’d uttered the two words.
By the end of the day, Beatrice could barely stand keeping it to herself. There was no question, she was with child. Her mind swirled with astonishment and she giggled wondering what Duncan’s response would be. She wanted to inform Isobel and Lady Mariel the following day, so it was time to divulge the information to her husband.
When she slipped into the bed, he joined her and turning to his side, kissed her soundly. “I love ye in my bed every night.”
“Truth be told,” Beatrice replied. “This is my bed.”
“We could have remained in my bedroom. There is nothing wrong with it.” He nuzzled her neck. “Ye smell so good,” the husky murmurs sent shivers of awareness through her.
Beatrice brushed hair from his face and looked at him. “There is something ye have to know.”
“What is it?” Immediately he was tense, expecting bad news.
Lips curving, Beatrice teased him, “I think it is good, but ye will have to tell me what ye think. Ye and I will be parents by late spring.”
The room went absolutely silent, only the sound of the wood cracking in the fire. It was as if the air left.
Duncan lowered his head and buried his face into her shoulder.
“What is it darling? Are ye crying?” Beatrice lifted his face and looked at his wet cheeks. “I love ye so much.”
“I love ye,” Duncan replied and once again hid his face. “Thank ye for making me a full man. Bringing happiness to my life.”
Overwhelmed with love for him, Beatrice wrapped her arms around him and let out a shaky breath.
“Ye make me happy as well.”
When he exhaled fully, Beatrice realized it was the first time he was so relaxed in her presence. Duncan let go of whatever held him back, his body going limp in surrender.
The healing power of love had begun its work.
Early Spring 1602
Stuart’s steed pranced as he rode toward where the Maclean men were housed.
“Stop it,” Stuart said to the horse who paid him no heed. He gritted his teeth, the animal seemed to be in some sort of mood. “War horses do not prance,” Stuart muttered.
A chuckle came from somewhere between the trees. Whoever it was must have overheard him.
“Who is there?” Stuart said with a firm a voice as he could muster without scaring whoever it was away.
“It is I Mister Stuart,” A willowy young woman appeared. She wore the distinct clothing of someone of little means. A drab, but very clean dress, over it a tidy apron. Her hair was covered with a kerchief, pulling her hair back from her pretty face.
“I apologize. I overheard ye scolding yer horse,” she said, her wide eyes meeting his. Her eyes were a light brown, framed with long lashes.
“Cait.”
She was familiar to him; he’d seen her about the keep lately. “What are ye doing so far from the keep?”
Cait blinked and swallowed nervously. “I am snaring rabbits for my mother and younger brother. I have the Laird’s permission,” she quickly added, holding up a dead hare.
Untying his bow from the saddle, he then pulled an arrow from the quiver. Cait paled, her eyes not leaving his face.
Pulling back, he released the arrow into nearby bushes. “Now ye have two.”
“Thank ye,” she stuttered turning to where he’d shot.
Stuart nodded. “Be with care, Cait.”
He urged his horse forward but couldn’t help looking over his shoulder to see what the woman did.
Cait remained standing and lifted a hand in farewell.
Interesting that he’d never noticed before how beautiful she was.
The saga continues with Stuart and Cait’s story, The Eagle.
A Note to Readers
Can’t get enough of Beatrice and Duncan, check out this extra epilogue. When Beatrice ignores Duncan’s warnings and sneaks off to the village, things take a turn for the worse. If only she’d listened to her husband! Click Here!
About the Author
Enticing. Engaging. Romance.
USA Today Bestselling Author Hildie McQueen writes strong brooding alphas who meet their match in feisty brave heroines. If you like stories with a mixture of passion, drama, and humor, you will love Hildie’s storytelling where love wins every single time!
A fan of all things pink, Paris, and four-legged creatures, Hildie resides in eastern Georgia, USA, with her super-hero husband Kurt and three little yappy dogs.
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