11
Roseann stared up at him. A strange feeling of uneasiness had fluttered to life in her stomach.
“What do you mean?” she asked slowly. “What do you have to tell me?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. What was happening?
“Ye ken that my good faither died, just a year ago?” he asked abruptly.
She nodded her head slowly. “Yes. I know that you have only recently been made Laird.” Puzzled, she stared at him. Where was this going?
He nodded. “Before he passed, he did somethin’, without my knowledge.” He hesitated. “He wanted to protect the lands, ye see. We have had a lot of trouble, in recent years, with a certain English officer, who has been looting and pillaging the villages on Gruem Dubh lands, and the neighboring ones…”
Roseann leaned forward, still wondering where all this was leading. What did any of it have to do with her lying with him?
He frowned. “My faither made a pact, with a neighboring Laird, that he would send reinforcement if need be to us, to protect the lands.” He paused. “A part of that pact was that if the Laird needed one day to send me men, then our side of it was that I must marry his daughter, in good faith. Create an alliance between the two clans…”
Roseann turned away, feeling as if she was about to be sick. Her head was spinning violently. She couldn’t believe that she had just been about to give her maidenhead to this…this…fiend!
“You are betrothed?” she spat, her eyes gleaming with tears. “You are telling me that you are bound to marry another woman?” She swallowed a painful lump that had just formed in her throat. “You want me for your whore, is that it?”
He swore softly, marching towards her, grabbing her. He stared down into her face, his green eyes turning fierce.
“The pact was made without my knowledge, ye ken? And it only comes into effect if the lands are threatened by the English officer.” He sighed deeply. “The officer has been stationed elsewhere, the whole time I have been Laird. I daenae believe he will be back in Scotland at all…”
She twisted in his arms. “You do not know that!” She stopped, suddenly, staring up at him. “How could you not have told me this before? How could you have kissed me like that, knowing that one day, you will surely marry another?”
“Listen to me,” he hissed, gripping her harder. “I dinnae tell ye because it might never happen, lass! And now that I have found ye…” he took a deep breath “…now that I have found ye, it must not happen. The English officer is gone, probably never to return. I will send word to the Laird of Lios to break the pact.”
She stilled in his arms, gazing up at him. “You would do that?”
“Aye,” he said softly. “I would do it gladly if it means that I can have ye. The betrothal means nothin’ to me. I have nae even set eyes on the lady, ye ken? The only reason I have nae done it afore now is I have nae had a reason to do it.” He paused, staring down at her intently. “Ye are the reason now, my lass.”
Roseann fought back the tears with difficulty. He looked so earnest, entreating her. But how was she to know what was the truth, and what was a lie? Was he only saying he would break his betrothal pact because he wanted to lie with her so much?
A single tear slid down her cheek. She had left her family, who needed her, to be with him She had genuinely thought that she might, indeed, love him, and that perhaps he loved her, too.
She had dared to dream that he might one day make her his wife.
He reached out, wiping away the tear with his right thumb. She felt the touch of his flesh on her burn. She gasped.
His eyes darkened, and he gripped her tighter still if that was possible. He leaned closer so that his mouth was against her ear, and he was whispering into her hair.
“Come and lie with me,” he growled. “I shall show ye how much ye mean to me, Roseann Gibson. And I vow to ye that I shall not marry anyone but ye.”
She couldn’t help it, then. The tears that had been threatening spilled over were now streaming down her face.
He didn’t say a word. He simply lifted her up into his arms, as if she were a bag of feathers. Without thinking, she snaked her arms around his neck. He walked out of the room, shuddering.
Her eyes drifted around the unfamiliar chamber as he laid her gently on the bed. Without a word, he lay beside her, turning to her with his fierce eyes.
“I have told the servants not to disturb us,” he said softly. “The afternoon is ours, lassie.”
She nodded, not knowing what to say, now that she was here. Suddenly, she felt so painfully shy; she could barely meet his eyes. The reality of the situation was gripping her, like a vice.
I am lying on the bed of the Laird of Greum Dubh. He is about to take my maidenhead. How has this happened?
She could feel herself start to quiver. Was it out of fear, or anticipation?
He caressed her face gently, his eyes shining. “Do ye want to ask me any questions?” he murmured. “About…what is to happen?”
She blushed furiously. But then, she sighed, staring back at him.
“Will it hurt?” she whispered. “I have heard that it hurts a woman, at least for the first time…”
He smiled gently. “If it does, it will pass quickly. I will be careful, lass. I daenae want to cause ye pain.” He reached over, kissing her with a tenderness one would not expect from a man whose bare hands have slain enemies. “But I promise ye, there will be delight, too.”
She quivered again. “I need to trust you, then.”
He nodded. “Aye.”
She shuddered. His eyes darkened again, and the time for talk was over. He started kissing her, fiercely, his tongue probing into her mouth, pulling at her lips as if he wanted to devour them.
She felt herself melting into his arms as if her very bones were turning into liquid. Fiercely, she kissed him back, her eyes closed, lost as if in a dream.
He broke the contact, turning her around. Slowly but surely, he started unlacing her gown until it came apart in his hands. He pulled it down, clean off her body, throwing it onto the floor at the foot of the bed. Then, just as efficiently, he shed her undergarments, until she was lying naked in his arms.
“Let me look at ye,” he breathed, raising his head, his eyes drinking her in. She felt herself blush as his gaze roamed lazily from her breasts to the dark triangle of hair, nestled between her legs.
“Ye are bonnie,” he breathed. His hand traveled over the places where his eyes had just been, touching her softly, but surely. His hand drifted from her breasts, down her stomach, and plunged into the dark hair protecting her most intimate parts. His fingers slid down further, parting her, while his mouth sought her breasts, nipping and sucking with abandon.
She strangled a cry. She had never even touched herself down there. She could feel his fingers sliding deeper still, between those lips, rubbing her gently. Warm wetness flooded out of her, and he grunted softly against her breasts as he felt it.
Roseann arched her back, feeling her head fall back in pure abandon. The sensations…she had never felt anything quite like it. It was as if the other times she had been in his arms had merely been a dress rehearsal for the main play.
His mouth suckled her nipples, triggering wild pulling sensations deep inside her, while his hand parted her deeper still. She gasped, as she felt his finger slide inside her and out, and a warm wetness welling up inside her, in increasing volume.
She shuddered, feeling something strange building in the pit of her stomach. A flutter, and then more. She arched her back again, sighing in complete abandon.
Suddenly, he moved away from her, undressing quickly. Dazzled, she opened her eyes to see him lying naked next to her. They widened more, when she saw his manhood, big and erect, sticking out from a pit of fiery red hair.
Oh, sweet Lord, she fretted. How on earth is something so big going to fit inside of me? Will I split in two?
“Lay back, my lass,” he whispered, his eyes half-closed.
He looked like he was in some strange kind of trance, as if he was listening to something only he could hear.
She obeyed him. He tilted her back further, climbing on top of her, spreading her legs with his own, until they were wide apart. And then suddenly, there was a searing pain as he entered her.
She strangled another cry. He pushed deeper, and then deeper still until she felt like she was so full of him, she would surely burst. Just when the pain was too much, he started moving, slowly at first, then with increasing speed. Back and forth, his body was raging over her own, as if he was working some kind of magical ritual.
The pain was lessening, and those wild fluttery sensations were starting up again, intensifying with each forward thrust he made. She arched her back again, so he slipped deeper inside her. She felt, in some bewildered way, that she was starting to climb towards some unknown peak.
The sensations intensified. She gripped him tightly, her head tossing from side to side. It was almost so pleasurable, she couldn’t endure it. She was about to tip over an edge. Would she lose herself entirely?
A peak hit, and she shuddered in ecstasy. She cried out, unable to restrain herself. Her whole body was pulsing wildly, contracting back and forth, in waves.
He gripped her quite tightly. She felt a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. He groaned and released his warmth into her. No women had ever felt so good.
He shuddered again, slowing down. When he finally opened his eyes, he kissed her gently, taking her face tenderly in his hands.
“That was worth waiting for,” he breathed, his eyes shining. “It was worth everything to see yer face in that moment…”
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Domhnall cursed softly. “What is it?” he growled. “I told ye I was not to be disturbed!”
“Laird,” called a woman’s voice. Roseann recognized it as belonging to Mairead. “It’s the laddie. Ye best come, quick.”
12
Domhnall cursed softly underneath his breath, pulling on his clothes. He was still caught up in the afterglow of their lovemaking and could barely think straight. Roseann quickly covered herself with a blanket, peeking up at him with large, concerned eyes.
He leaned over her and kissed her fiercely. “I am sorry,” he whispered. “This is nae how it should be, after…”
She put a finger on his lips. “You do not need to apologize. Just go and see what is wrong. I will return to my own chambers. Let me know if I can do anything or if you need me.”
He nodded. With one last, lingering look of regret, he strode to the door and opened it. Mairead was standing there, a pinched look of concern on her face.
He shut the door quickly behind him. “What is it?”
“He has climbed too high,” she said quickly. “On the battlements! I told him not to do it, Laird, but he wouldnae listen to me! And now, he is stuck there, in a panic, unable to come down…”
Domhnall cursed again. “That lad is a wee pain in the backside!” His face darkened. “I will beat that backside of his, good and proper until he learns!”
“Do not be too angry, Laird,” said Mairead quickly. “He has been restless, in the days since the lady has left, and bored. He has nae been occupied with his lessons…”
Domhnall was already moving, running down the winding staircase. “Daenae make excuses for the lad, Mairead,” he growled over his shoulder. “He is too old for them! He might be Laird, one day, and is nae a child anymore.”
He strode out of the castle and towards the battlements. It wasn’t hard to find where Cormac was. A small crowd had gathered at the bottom, staring up at the boy, who was clinging to the battlements for dear life. Domhnall could see that the lad was pale.
A wave of anger washed over him. He had meant every word that he had uttered to Mairead. Cormac had much improved since Roseann had been tutoring him, but it seemed that the wild, childish streak was still there. A recklessness that needed to be weeded out of him. There was a chance he might be Laird one day and responsible for many men. A Laird could not put his men in danger with recklessness.
He reached the bottom, staring up at the boy.
“Cormac,” he called. “Ye need to look down and find yer footing!”
The boy stared at him with wide, frightened eyes. “I cannae!” he wailed. “I will fall…”
“Ye will nae fall,” called Domhnall. “Not if ye are careful, and plan where ye must step! Ye must gather yer courage, lad, and just do it!”
But Cormac didn’t make a move. He stubbornly clung to the battlement, staring down at his brother. He shook his head, vigorously.
Domhnall was losing his patience. “Ye are a reckless laddie!” he shouted. “What were ye thinkin’, climbin’ that high? Ye will nae be able to sit down for a month after I finish with ye! I will beat yer backside black and blue, so I will!”
The boy’s bottom lip started trembling. “Ye are a brute! Ye never have time for me! I should just throw myself over the castle wall, and that will show ye!”
Domhnall felt his fists curling and uncurling by his side. By all the saints, the lad was insolent! He was just about to give him a piece of his mind when a soft voice rang out into the air.
“Cormac!”
He turned quickly. It was Roseann. She had pushed her way through the crowd and was now standing at the front, looking up at the boy.
“Cormac! Look at me!” Her voice was commanding.
The boy still flushed with anger, ignored her for a moment. But then, at her insistent tone, he slowly turned his head, gazing down at her. Domhnall saw his eyes, which had been unfocused with panic, acknowledge her.
“You do not have to be silly, Cormac,” she said in a firm voice. “If you throw yourself off the castle wall, who will play chess with me? There is no one in this castle who is a match for me, except you!”
The boy stared at her, dumbfounded for a moment. But then, a grin split over his face. “Ye are a good opponent, my lady.” He gazed at her, and the smile faded. “Why did ye leave? I thought ye were nae comin’ back!”
Roseann smiled slowly, gazing up at him. “Why, I was always coming back, Cormac. How could I stay away? Who would play chess with me, in dull old England?”
The boy smiled again.
“Now,” said Roseann firmly. “I want you to look down and carefully remember how you climbed up. You need to clear your mind, Cormac, of everything but what you need to do. Can you do that for me?”
He hesitated for a moment, then slowly nodded his head. “I suppose I can try,” he said doubtfully.
“Good.” Roseann took a deep breath. “Do not think about it any longer. Just take that first step.”
He hovered there for a moment, then tentatively stepped down. His foot slipped a little, but he corrected himself. Domhnall saw that his arms were shaking as he clung to the wall for dear life.
“Well done,” called Roseann encouragingly. “You are doing so well! Just a little bit further. Just a few more steps…”
The boy slowly and painstakingly made his way down. At the very end, he jumped, landing roughly. There was a cheer from the crowd. Roseann ran to him, leaning over him. Domhnall pushed his way through the crowd until he was upon them.
“Back to work,” he called, turning to the crowd. “All is well, as ye can see.”
The crowd dispersed. He turned back to the boy who was still sitting on the ground, and the woman who had taken his hand and was gently whispering to him.
“Get up, lad,” he said abruptly. “Ye have put on quite a show, but it is over now.”
Cormac stared up at him, glowering. “Ye daenae care at all! I should have thrown myself off the wall, and then ye would be sorry!”
“There is no need for this,” said Roseann sharply, staring up at Domhnall. “No need for it at all. Why don’t you let me take things from here, Laird? I will see that he is settled in his chambers, and then you may speak to him.” Her tone was authoritative.
He stared at her, stunned. Withou
t a word, he turned around, striding back to the castle. He was so angry he didn’t trust himself to speak. The lad didn’t need mollycoddling. He needed to man up, and it was about time that he knew it.
Roseann sighed deeply, closing the door to Cormac’s chamber. She had sat with the boy for over an hour, calming him down. Mairead had helped, as well. He had just fallen into a troubled sleep. Domhnall had not come to see how he was faring.
A flash of anger tore through her as she made her way back to her own chambers. He had been too hard on the boy; he didn’t realize that challenging him in such a moment was counterproductive. Yes, Cormac had been foolhardy, but there were reasons why. Deep reasons that had come to the fore, when the brothers had locked horns during the incident. Why couldn’t the Laird see that?
A Pledge of Passion to the Highlander Page 9