by Mia Pride
Robert could not decide what was more arousing, watching himself pleasure her, or watching her reaction to it as her breath quickened and her head tilted back, hips beginning to rock in tandem with his ministrations. “That’s it, my love. Let it go,” he whispered, seeing her breasts heaving as her body began to tense around him. She was close to experiencing her first release and he was close to losing his own in a most embarrassing way, but never had he been more aroused in his entire life.
A few low groans escaped her before she collapsed onto her back and lifted her hips, rolling against him, urging him to continue until she cried out in ecstasy and clawed at his arms before collapsing in exhaustion.
Lifting her back up, he pulled her against him and cradled her in his arms, feeling her breaths slowly regulating again, hearing her sighs of contentment. “I dinnae ken what ye just did to me, Robert, but I vow I shall let ye do it whenever ye please,” she sighed and rested her head on his chest.
Chuckling, he lifted her chin and stared into her eyes. “Be careful what ye promise, Lizzie. I will tire ye out if ye allow me to do that whenever I please, for I wish to do that every second of every day. And when we are married, I will show ye even more. It gets better than that.”
“Impossible,” she purred, nuzzling into him, wrapping her arms around his waist as he did the same. He could feel her breasts pressing against his chest and felt so much love, so much tenderness for her. Never had he thought to want only one woman for the rest of his life, but he would never look at another lass again, for nobody could ever be his Lizzie.
“’Tis possible. I assure ye.”
When she shifted in his lap, he groaned and pulled back, still dangerously close to losing himself. “Oh, nay, Robert. What about ye? Do ye not want me to… touch it?”
“It?” Robert smiled and kissed her forehead tenderly, sweeping away a few tendrils that were stuck to her sweaty skin. “Och. Aye, of course I want ye to touch it more than anything. But, not tonight. ’Tis late and we have yer brother to deal with on the morrow. If I were him, I would run me through.”
“William is protective of me, ’tis true. But I will make certain he understands what happened and how much I love ye. He kens I never wanted love, that I wished to avoid it at all costs. He may never understand what I did, but he will understand why. And when he sees how much I love ye, Robert Irvine, Laird of Drum, he will bless our union. I vow it.”
Pulling her linen shift back up her shoulders, he was saddened to lose sight of her perfect round breasts and already could not wait to taste them once more. But the night grew colder and the dawn would arrive soon enough. Once he tied her shift up, Robert wrapped her Keith plaid around her shoulders and slowly helped her to her feet. She was so much smaller than him, yet so much stronger. She had faced her duties with strength, and when she was tired of simply following along, she took her life into her own hands. She was a fighter and he would never subdue that spirit, he vowed.
“I hope ye are right, Lizzie. I dinnae think he will be as easy to manage as ye believe.”
Kissing him softly before he walked her back down the tower stairs to her chamber, she shrugged and took his arm. “He will accept it, I ken he will.”
“I willnae accept this!” William roared and slammed his fist down on Robert’s solid oak desk, causing Elizabeth to flinch at the sudden outburst. “Ye are driving me mad, Lizzie! What has gotten into ye? Ye married the wrong brother in some act of rebellion when everyone around ye kens ye love Robert! Yer need to avoid love has driven ye insane!”
“I’m not insane, Will. I ken this situation isnae ideal, but—”
“Not ideal? I have been away from Dunnottar for too cursed long! I came to marry ye off, sign a peace contract, and go back to my people! Then war came. Then Alexander died, rest his soul. Then ye snuck off into the middle of the night and married a man I hadnae agreed to, a man not in the contracts and not to be laird. Yet, I accepted it. I wanted ye to be happy! Now ye tell me the marriage was false, ye love Robert, he loves ye, and ye want to marry another Irvine? How am I supposed to explain this to our people, Lizzie! This is absurd!” he spat and slammed his fist down once again.
Robert sat behind his desk with his elbows propped on the surface.
His hands were folded together before his mouth as he listened calmly and somehow kept his composure. It was more than Lizzie was capable of. The hackles on the back of her neck rose in defiance, yet she clenched her fists at her sides and took a deep breath. “I ken this is absurd, Brother. I ken I made it so. Take yer anger out on me, but dinnae punish Robert. We all ken he didnae ask for any of this confusion.”
“Och, ’tis not Robert I wish to kill. ’Tis his deceitful brother!” William pointed at Reginald who propped himself coolly against the stone wall of the laird’s solar, arms crossed as he looked straight ahead. “Have ye Irvines nay honor? I am tempted to burn our peace agreement and drag Elizabeth back home! And who was that wild banshee shouting at me from her chamber last night?”
“William!” Elizabeth scolded. “That is Mary and she is my friend.”
“Mary… as in Alexander’s lover who carries his child? She is yer… friend? Ye truly have earned the need to wear that rosary daily, Lizzie, though I dinnae ken if ye use it.”
“Haud yer wheesht!” Elizabeth had had enough. William had a right to be upset by the situation, but Mary had nothing to do with this and he could not speak about her companion in that manner. “Mary was in love with Alexander! She is suffering his loss and carrying his child, aye! She has paid for her sins and as for me, ’tis not a sin to be her friend. ’Twould be a sin to shun her, as ye are!”
William had the decency to not respond. Still, he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, unwilling to apologize, not that she expected him to. “I made a mistake. I didnae want to become our father, pining for a lost love every day and ye ken that! But now, I see I have become him, for I do pine, Brother. And I do love. When I thought I was married to Reg, I was miserable.”
“Thank ye,” Reg scoffed but bit back a smile.
“Ye ken what I mean!” she said at his comment, stomping her foot. “And I thank ye for what ye did. I ken ye and Tilda did all ye did to make me see my mistakes, and to make Robert open his eyes, as well. It worked. We have.”
Looking over at Robert, her heart leapt when she saw him relax a bit in his seat, attempting to hide his smile behind his clasped hands. But his eyes sparkled and his dimple flashed, letting her know he was amused and happy she was defending them. She knew he would defend them as well, but William was her brother and this was her mess to clean up. Despite Robert’s anger and mistreatment toward her, he had been willing to marry her.
“We are in love, William. And if ye drag me back to Dunnottar, I will simply find my way back here. I was ready to flee home alone to avoid love. Matilda suggested I marry another Irvine to keep the peace and keep me put. Ye should be thanking her and Reginald for doing what was needed to keep me at Drum and from making a big mistake. I am a stubborn lass. I ken this, as do ye. I am marrying Robert, as intended. Peace remains between the clans, the Keiths are all still here to witness the marriage. The only thing that has changed is me.”
William’s face softened as he took steps toward her, placing his large hands on her shoulders. “Ye have changed. I see that. Ye are willing to risk all for love, when before ye did aught to avoid it. Still, am I supposed to allow Reginald to get away with the trouble he has caused?”
Stepping away from the wall, Reginald put his hands up in the air in surrender. “Ye want to run me through? Ye ken ye cannae, but I will allow ye the first swing.”
Narrowing his eyes, William released his grip on Elizabeth and stepped up to Reginald, both men rather equal in height and size. “The first swing?” William asked, a menacing tone in his voice.
“Aye. I will let ye have the first. After that, I cannae be as gracious.” Reginald stepped up closer to William. “Ye want to hit me. I ken ye do.”
“We fight our own battles, mate. I dinnae need him to take ye down.” Reginald popped his knuckles and got into a fighting stance. Elizabeth watched the two, wishing they would both knock each other out in one fell swoop and be done with it.
Rolling her eyes, Elizabeth stepped between them. “Ye will have to hit me first.”
“That is ridiculous!” Reginald scoffed.
“Are ye mad?” her brother chimed in.
“Ye are both ridiculous and mad! Look at yerselves, grown men acting like wee children. Ye can kick each other’s arses another time if ye so wish, I dinnae care! But it willnae change what has happened, nor what will be. I am marrying Robert as soon as possible and I expect the Keiths to be in attendance and it would be bloody preferable if my brother didnae have a fat lip and a black eye on my wedding day!”
Frowning, William crinkled his brow and stepped back, then Reginald did the same.
“As soon as she is gone, I will kick yer arse,” William said to Reginald, pointing a finger in the man’s direction.
“I look forward to it. I do an enjoy a good arse kicking.”
Looking over her shoulder, she saw Robert sitting and staring at her, a look of love on his face that made her heart swell. She wanted to run over to him, sit in his lap and kiss him until she was breathless, but she wanted him to live to see their wedding day, and William would most certainly kill him if he knew what they had done last night.
Just the thought of it made a flush creep up her cheeks and Robert smirked, clearly thinking the same thing.
The door to Robert’s solar burst open causing Elizabeth to squeal at the sudden intrusion, clutching her heart when she saw the grave look on Charles’ face. It was never a good sign when their outlook or messengers stormed in so abruptly. “My laird! A band of Macleans march this way!”
“Macleans?” Robert repeated, standing from his chair and rounding his desk.
“The man who killed Alex was a Maclean, aye?” Elizabeth asked, feeling herself begin to shake with fear.
Robert nodded and wrapped her in his arms, feeling her quake in his embrace. She was not certain what was happening, but the Macleans were a Highland clan. There was no other reason for them to be here, aside for seeking justice.
“Aye, and he killed Red Hector of the Battles, their leader and finest warrior. They must be here to seek revenge,” Robert said calmly, kissing the top of her forehead before releasing her and moving into swift action while she swerved in place, dread sinking in her stomach.
“Reginald, tell the men to armor up and prepare for the worst. William, yer men can back us up or stay within the walls. After all, Elizabeth isnae yet wed to an Irvine and thus our treaty doesnae stand. I willnae expect ye to risk yer men, but it would be good faith for our future as brothers, and as allies.”
Elizabeth looked at William, inwardly pleading him to move past the events of the day and do what was right. They may not be obligated to fight, but if peace was ever to truly unite their clans, now was the time to prove it.
“Ye Irvines are naught but trouble.” William looked at Robert and paused for a moment before looking at Elizabeth and smiling widely. “Fortunately, so are we Keiths. And we will stand by ye.”
Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth watched as her brother and future husband clasped forearms in a form of understanding and felt slightly at ease, until Robert moved toward the door. “Charles! Get all the women and children up into the top of the tower. I will ride out to meet the Macleans to determine their cause for being on our lands. If I need help, I will give the signal.”
“Nay!” Elizabeth ran over to him, feeling as if she would be sick. “I willnae let ye go out there alone! I have already lost one husband to them. I shallnae lose ye!” Wrapping her arms tightly around Robert, she inhaled deeply, trying to calm her nerves, taking in his masculine scent and the feel of his hard muscles beneath his beige tunic.
“Lizzie, my love, I need ye to be strong and listen. Ye are Lady of Drum. The women and children need ye. They need yer stubbornness and intelligence now. Trust me and my men to handle this. I trust ye to keep everyone in the tower safe. Can ye do that for me, Bride?”
Swallowing hard, she nodded and gripped his arm. “Dinnae be a fool, Robert. Promise to take a few men with ye. I cannae leave until I ken ye will do that.”
“I will be by his side.” Turning, she saw her brother step forward and tears welled up in her eyes.
“Thank ye,” she cried and hugged her brother hard. “Ye dinnae be a fool either, Will. I cannae live without ye, ye ken.”
“I have survived more than the Macleans. We will find out what they want and settle this one way or another.”
“I will be with him, as well,” Reginald said. “He is my blood and my laird. I will protect him with my life. Besides, I would be a terrible laird. He needs to live to protect his people from my foolishness.”
Overcome with more emotions than she knew what to do with, Elizabeth simply nodded and squeezed Reginald’s hand tightly, squeaking when he pulled her to him and embraced her hard.
“Ye were my wife for only a few days, lass, but the best wife I shall ever have.”
“I ken that isnae true. Ye will have a fine wife one day. Now go. I will be here managing the others.” Walking over to Robert one last time, she looked up at him and gripped his shoulders. “I love ye, Robert Irvine. I cannae lose ye.”
“And, ye willnae. Not now, not ever. I love ye, Lizzie.” Kissing her hard on the mouth, he walked away, Reginald and William following closely behind, no doubt to round up their men before meeting the Macleans outside the walls.
Alone in the solar, she could hear the fire popping in the hearth, voices of men shouting in the courtyard below, and the blood rushing to her head, causing her ears to ring. Panic was not an option. Clenching her fists into her skirts, she fled down the stairs, ready to gather the women and children and keep them safe or die trying, as the Lady of Drum should.
Chapter Sixteen
“Everything is ready, my laird,” Charles shouted from atop the battlements, looking down at the surrounding area. “They approach from the west!”
Archers lined the walls, ready to shoot on his command. Armed men on horses were just outside the gates and would stay far enough back to let the Macleans know they were hoping not to fight, but close enough to be seen as a warning. All the women and children were in the tower with Elizabeth while William and Reginald flanked his sides. Drum would not fall on his watch and according to Charles and the other men on guard, there appeared to only be a score of Macleans, which Robert knew either meant they did not come for battle, or more of their men were waiting in hiding and he would assume the latter until he knew for certain.
The Irvine plaid was wrapped around his body proudly, alongside Reginald’s and William in his Keith plaid, showing that they stood united. Urging their horses forward, the three men rode out to meet the Macleans before they got too close to the castle walls.
As the Macleans came into view, Robert slowed his horse to a trot, then stopped altogether, dismounting and holding the hilt of his sword, standing proudly as the Laird of Drum and determined to keep his people safe.
“I dinnae ken what has brought ye to Irvine land. But I warn ye, I have both the Irvines and Keiths here ready to fight, and my archers ready to shoot on my command.” Looking around, Robert squinted his eyes, searching the surrounding area for any movement in the trees or bushes. But aside from the wind, everything seemed still, eerily so. But the Macleans were outnumbered and Robert’s instincts and knowledge of warfare told him this was not an attack, though what it was, he could not guess.
A large blond-haired man with a long beard covering most of his face step forward wearing the green and red plaid of his clan, sword sheathed at his side. Stepping forward, Robert met the man halfway, crossing his arm
s and making a show of not holding on to his hilt any longer. He would draw his sword if needed, but for now, he simply wanted to read the man and hear him out.
“Ye are the Laird of Drum?” the man’s deep voice asked as he crossed his arms, as well.
“Aye. I am now that my brother was killed by a Maclean at Harlaw,” Robert replied with warning in his tone. “Ye come to kill me now?”
“My father was killed by yer brother at Harlaw, as well. And, nay. Enough blood has been spilled.”
Narrowing his eyes, Robert looked at the man carefully, seeing the resemblance to the man called Red Hector of the Battles. “Ye are Lachlan Maclean?” The man was well-known in Scotland for being almost as brave a fighter as his father, yet of sound mind and not as bloodthirsty.
“Aye.”
“Why have ye come all this way, if not to avenge yer father?” Was the man attempting to put him off his scent? The moment Robert believed it was safe, would hundreds of men jump out of the surrounding forest and start an attack? Though he made certain to have men patrolling the forests, if enough men came through and slaughtered them, Robert would not know until it was too late.
Yet, there was no honor in catching Robert off guard in a face to face combat and all he had ever heard about the character of Lachlan Maclean told Robert that he was an honorable man, unlike his father.
Putting his hand on the handle of his sword, Lachlan quickly unsheathed it, causing Robert to jump back defensively and draw his own. He heard Reginald and William do the same behind him. Just as he was preparing to let out their war whoop to his men for backup, he heard a wail from the castle tower in the distance and recognized it as Elizabeth’s voice. Could Elizabeth possibly see what was happening from so far away? His name being called drifted on the wind to his ears and he clenched his jaw, prepared to fight and survive, for there was no way he would leave his Elizabeth alone.
His men approached swiftly from the rear, not awaiting the signal as planned. But, clearly, seeing a sword being drawn on their laird and hearing Elizabeth’s cries in the distance alerted them to further danger, heightening the tension.