Owned by the Highlanders

by Lily Harlem

  “There is an adjoining room.” Kendal nodded to his left. “I’m sure a tub is also being prepared for you in there, my friend.”

  “Aye, I daresay it is.”

  Moira ached to have Reid touch her, hold her. But she knew that couldn’t happen. They had to keep up the pretence of her only being involved with Kendal. At least for now.

  Reid took a step backward. “Until sundown.”

  “Sundown.” Kendal nodded.

  Reid slipped into the next room, closing the door behind him.

  Kendal set his hand on the maid’s shoulder. She was still stooped at the fire. “You can leave us now. Thank you.”

  “Aye, sir.” She scuttled from the room, the second maid followed behind her, the tub now full.

  For a moment Moira enjoyed the silence, and the fact she wasn’t in the saddle.

  “Allow me.” Kendal stepped up to her. Slowly and carefully he began to undo her bodice. His fingers were big yet deft as he gently released the ties.

  Her garments loosened and he helped her step out of them. “I’ll have these washed for you.”

  “Thank you.” She glanced at the door Reid had gone through. “Is he okay?”

  “He’ll be sleeping. Did you see the bags under his eyes? They’re as big as yours.”

  She touched her face. “I feel as if I’m asleep already.”

  He laughed. “You soon will be. But bathe first. I’ll help you.”

  She realized she was naked, and when he held out his hand, she took it and allowed him to help her into the water.

  Bliss slid over her skin, wrapping around her tired bones, seeping between her legs, and lapping at her breasts. She sank back, closing her eyes and murmured her approval.

  “But don’t go to sleep in there.” Kendal kneeled beside the tub, cloth in hand.

  “I won’t.” She yawned. Had she ever felt so exhausted? So completely wrung out?

  Kendal began to gently wash her. The scent of soap and lavender filled her nose. With absolute tenderness he started at her toes and worked his way upward. When he reached the juncture of her thighs she parted her legs, allowing him to dab the cloth over her cunny.

  Her heart rate picked up and she bit on her bottom lip. Her belly tensed and her nipples peaked over the waterline.

  “Oh, no,” he said quietly. “None of that for you until you’ve slept.”

  “But, Kendal, I—”

  “No buts.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll naught have you becoming sick with tiredness. Ladies like you shouldn’t have to sleep outdoors and ride all night. You have had to do both.”

  “I can manage just fine.” She couldn’t hold in another yawn.

  “And I’m proud of you. But you must accept my word, and my word is you need food and sleep the moment I’ve finished bathing you.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Beneath the table Moira smoothed her hands over her new heavy red brocade dress patterned with black lilies. It had come from France, she’d been told, and worn only once before by one of Stewart’s lady friends.

  To her right sat Kendal, Reid was opposite. They were positioned near the head of the long table, which held venison stew, suet dumplings, cabbage broth, cheese, chutney, spring greens, and huge clay jugs of ale.

  Stewart sat at the head in a tall wingback chair. He kept glancing at the door. McTavish was late and this was agitating him.

  But Moira knew this was often the way with McTavish. He became caught up with other supporters, talking, sharing information, and he’d been late to see Angus in the past.

  Eventually, as she finished a bread roll laden with butter and dipped in broth, the huge door at the top of the room opened.

  McTavish stood there with his feet apart, his red kilt hanging low and his white shirt marked with a hard day’s traveling. He was a handsome man, with short dark hair, a heavy coating of stubble, and a commanding presence.

  He took in the room as his men came up behind him; flanking him, but none as tall as him.

  “Ah, McTavish, my friend.” Stewart stood, a wide smile stretching over his face.

  Kendal and Reid also stood, as did Moira.

  “Your soldiers are very thorough,” McTavish said. “I was stopped half a mile from here by a group of four with their swords drawn.”

  “I’m glad to hear it, though I trust they gave you no problem.” Stewart held out his hand.

  But McTavish didn’t shake it; instead he drew Stewart into a hug. “Nay, no problem, and I thank you for this kind invite, my men are hungry and tired.”

  “We have plenty of food and places to sleep here at Fifths Castle. It’s all at your disposal.”

  “You are kind to weary travellers.” McTavish gestured for his men to enter.

  They rushed in, taking the empty seats at the end of the table. They wasted no time in tucking into the food and drink, the volume of their voices rising quickly.

  McTavish’s gaze settled on Moira.

  She smiled, her hands clasped in front of her.

  “Lady Campbell.” He stepped past Kendal. “What are you doing here?”

  “Leannan Creag became unsafe. I’m here with Stewart’s nephew, Kendal.”

  “If I’d ken,” McTavish held her shoulders and looked down at her, “I would have come myself, to get you. T’would have been the least I could do for dear Angus, Lord rest his soul.”

  “You are too kind.”

  McTavish drew her into a hug, his wide shoulders seeming to block out the rest of the room.

  Kendal coughed and slipped his arm around her. “Thank you, McTavish, but luckily we were there.”

  McTavish pulled back. “It is good to see you again, young Kendal.”

  “Not so young anymore.”

  Moira found herself pulled against Kendal’s side and held firmly in his grip.

  McTavish grinned and looked between them.

  “Lady Campbell and I are to be married.” Kendal pulled in a breath. “As soon as possible.”

  “And a most excellent match, wouldn’t you say, Stewart?”

  “Aye, I would.” Stewart nodded. “You knew Angus Campbell?”

  “Lord Angus Campbell, aye, I did. He was one of our biggest allies down south of the Ochil Hills. Lady Campbell here supplied many a meal and bed to Jacobites working for the cause. Angus himself gave his life for it.”

  Moira’s heart thudded with a mixture of love and sadness. Angus had been a good man and hearing his praises sung, even posthumously made her so proud and, at the same time, so desperately wretched that he’d been killed with such brutality.

  “He gave his life?” Stewart looked at her. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you. It was a terrible time in my life, but now I feel I’m moving on as Angus would wish.”

  “Aye, with us… me.” Kendal said. “And here at Fifths Castle.”

  “You are staying a while?” Stewart asked, gesturing for McTavish to sit and eat.

  “Aye, we need to rest. Reid took a beating, which he’s barely recovered from.”

  McTavish sat and looked at Reid. “You seem healthy. No different to the last time I saw you?”

  “I’m okay. Kendal is fussing.”

  “I’m nay fussing. We left Leannan Creag in a hurry and then did the same at the croft. I intend to stay here a wee while, wed this beautiful woman, and then continue to help the cause.” Kendal set his mouth in a straight line. It was a look Moira was becoming familiar with and meant he wasn’t going to change his mind.

  Reid obviously knew this too about his friend, because he shrugged and picked up a hunk of meat and began to chew on it.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Moira directed at McTavish.

  “Anything, my dear.”

  “Have you heard any news of Bryce, my brother?”

  “You still haven’t seen him?”

  “No. It has been two years now.”

  He frowned and sipped his ale. “I’d presumed he’d been to see you.”
/>
  “So you have heard something?” Hope filled her chest. “Is he alive?”

  “Aye, from what I ken. I’d heard he was in gaol, in London.”

  “You did? He was?” This was all news to her.

  “Aye, taken by Red Coats, but that was some time ago, and I heard he’d been released, or escaped, one of the two.”

  She pressed her hand to her chest and looked between Reid and Kendal.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” Reid warned.

  “But… this is the most news I’ve had since I last saw him.” Her feet twitched with the need to go and search for him… right now.

  “I would have expected him to go to Leannan Creag,” McTavish said.

  “Aye, me too.” She frowned. What had happened? Why hadn’t he returned to find her? He’d always been warmly welcomed in her husband’s home before and after Angus’s death.

  “Bryce Campbell?” Stewart said. “That’s not a name I’m familiar with.”

  “No, he’s Bryce McBay, my maiden name.”

  “Ahhh, Bryce McBay,” Stewart repeated. “And active with the cause?”

  “Aye, he always has been passionate about it.” She studied Stewart’s face. “Have you heard of him? Do you ken something?”

  “Aye, I’m sure the farrier was talking about him, or that name at least. He’s west of here, in a village beyond the glen, working also as an ironmonger.”

  “Aye, that was his trade.” She pointed at Reid. “Now tell me not to get my hopes up.”

  “I’ll stick by what I said.” He frowned at her. “It’s a common name and a common trade. And why wouldn’t he have come to Leannan Creag?”

  “I don’t ken, haps it was too dangerous, too much of a risk. Maybe he believed me not to be there anymore, it’s been so long.” She reached for Kendal’s hand. “Can we go morrow, to see if it’s him?”

  “We will go, but not morrow, we need to rest.”

  “I don’t need rest. I’m fine.”

  He raised one eyebrow at her.

  She opened her mouth to continue her argument.

  His dipped his chin and stared at her unblinking. A slight frown creased his forehead and a muscle flexed in his newly shaven jawline.

  She closed her mouth. One more word would earn her a spanking, a severe one, she was sure. Disobeying Kendal in front of his uncle and McTavish would not work out well for her ass.

  But she would get to the village beyond the glen, and sooner rather than later.

  * * *

  Halfway through the feast Moira was startled by the sound of a sudden clatter. It was McTavish standing rapidly and knocking over his heavy wooden chair, which bounced and clattered on the hard floor.

  She caught her breath as he spun around, unsheathed his sword, and arrowed it at one of his men.

  “What’s happening?” she asked Kendal as the man was backed against the stone wall.

  “It seems one of his men is getting a little out of hand with the laird’s maid.”

  Moira watched as McTavish spoke with the pretty young woman whose hair was the colour of raven’s wings. Whatever she was saying, as the conversation extended, was amusing the guest of honour and McTavish seemed utterly bewitched by her.

  “Naught to worry about,” Stewart said, turning from the scene. “McTavish won’t let any harm come to young Isla at the hands of one of his men.”

  “Aye, they’re excellent soldiers, fearless, but come with different ideas on how to behave in female company.” Reid supped his drink. “Just as well he keeps them in check.”

  Moira watched the scene for a few more minutes then carried on eating as she listened to Stewart regaling her with a tale of when Kendal was a young lad and learning to ride on a mule.

  Eventually, with the feast devoured and McTavish’s men calm and lounging around the lit fire, boots off, ale still in their tankards, Moira suppressed a yawn.

  Reid spotted her and finished the last of his drink.

  “It’s okay,” she said quietly so as not to interrupt the conversation Kendal, Stewart, and McTavish were having about a clan further to the north who were planning on travelling south to help.

  Reid shook his head. “Kendal.” He turned. “I’m going to turn in, and it seems your wife-to-be is also tired. Shall I escort her to her bedroom?”

  Kendal glanced at her then back to Reid. “Aye, thank you. I’ll nay be long myself.”

  Beneath the table Kendal squeezed her knee. “But do not wait up for me; despite your afternoon nap I know how tiring these last days have been.”

  She smiled and stood not trusting herself to speak. She had a pretty good idea neither Reid or Kendal had any intention of letting her collapse into a slumber, at least not for a while.

  As the traversed the staircase, Reid set his hand on the small of her back.

  She adored his touch. She’d missed it too.

  “Will you come in?” she whispered when they reached the bedroom she was sharing with Kendal.

  “Aye, my love, but I’ll use the adjoining door so we don’t arouse any suspicions.”

  She nodded and glanced over the banister. There were staff milling around the hallway, including the pretty young maid McTavish had gallantly come to the aid of. As Moira studied her, she looked up with a steady gaze.

  For a moment it was as if the maid could see all of Moira’s secrets. See into her soul and understood that her affections lay for not one man but two.

  Feeling uncomfortable, Moira turned quickly away.

  “Good idea.” Moira presented her cheek and clasped her hands to stop herself from touching Reid. “There are eyes everywhere here.”

  “There are indeed.” He breezed a polite kiss on her cheek, then, “You may be marrying Kendal, but don’t forget you’re very much mine too.”

  She studied the passion and heat in his eyes and remembered him fingering her, slapping her ass, filling her most intimate hole with the candle, and helping her to orgasm. “I remember,” she managed. “How could I ever forget?”

  “Good.” He pulled back. “And be naked when I get to you, that’s an order.” He stepped away, bobbing his head in reverence and looking every bit the gentlemen despite what he’d just said and what she was sure was going through his mind.

  Quickly she disappeared into her room. The fire was dwindling and several lanterns had been lit. The heavy floor-to-ceiling drapes were drawn.

  With fumbling fingers she began to undo her bodice. “Damn it,” she muttered as it proved a trickier task than usual. But soon it was released and she shimmied out of that and her other clothes.

  Rushing to the dresser, breasts jiggling, she withdrew the pins from her hair then dragged a brush through it, enjoying the way it fanned out and tickled her bare shoulders.

  A basin of warmish water had been left by the fire, and she quickly washed then applied powder using a soft puffball of cotton. It smelled sweet and clean and smoothed her skin.

  The adjoining door opened.

  Reid stood there wearing only his kilt. His bare chest sparkled as if still damp from washing, and his hair was brushed back from his forehead.

  Her heart skittered; he was so big and handsome. She was so lucky he was hers. There was also something in his expression—eyebrows pulled low, jaw set determinedly—that had her pussy clenching and her belly trembling.

  He stepped into the room, his bare feet silent.

  When he reached her, he set his warm hands on her shoulders and stared into her eyes.

  He didn’t speak.

  Neither did she.

  Then, with insistent firm pressure he pushed her downward.

  She folded her legs until she was kneeling, not once breaking his eye contact, and clasped her hands behind her back.

  He pulled in a deep breath, his chest rising and falling and his nostrils flaring. He released her shoulders and reached for his kilt. With a flick of his wrist it fell, pooling at his feet.

  He was naked beneath and his erect cock sprang
forward.

  Still she stared up at him.

  He took his shaft in his hand and fed it toward her.

  Opening her mouth, she allowed him to slip it between her lips.

  His jaw slackened and a slightly glazed look came over his eyes, but still they stared at each other.

  Deeper and deeper he sank until his cock tip touched the back of her throat.

  Gently she sucked him, hugging him with her tongue and stroking him with her palate.

  “For the love of God Almighty.” He gripped the back of her head. “Are you trying to stop my heart, woman, that’s so good.”

  Every word he’d spoken, every syllable thrilled her. She had this huge tough Highlander at her mercy. She might be small and the weaker sex physically but right now he needed her—she owned him.

  He pulled out slowly, as if savouring each tiny section of her mouth.

  She licked his tip, then poked her tongue into his slit.

  “Ah, yeah, open up, more.”

  She did as he’d asked and he rode into her mouth again. This time she had to prevent herself from gagging.

  “Moira,” he gasped. “Moira, my love.”

  His excitement was growing, and he began to move faster. Pre-cum coated her tongue.

  She heard the door open and close. Reid glanced over his shoulder. His expression barely changed so she knew it must be Kendal.

  “Our woman is damn skilful with her mouth,” Reid managed.

  “I haven’t had the pleasure… yet.” Kendal stepped up to her, removing his tunic as he did so.

  “Here, try it. I’m going to come too soon.” Reid pulled out but kept a firm hold of her head. He stepped to the side.

  Kendal appeared before her, and like Reid, he released his kilt, allowing it to fall to the floor along with his sporran.

  “No point closing your mouth, Moira,” Kendal said. “You have two cocks to service, remember.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Quickly Moira opened her mouth again, being sure, like she had with Reid, to keep her focus on Kendal’s face.