Rhanna

by Christine Marion Fraser

  Tot had wakened and was struggling to get down. The lovely scent of rabbit was in the air and she still enjoyed a mild chase. She whimpered with excitement and stood for a moment, torn between going to greet Niall or going to sniff out rabbit.

  Niall looked up, a pebble poised in his fingers. He stood up and, though he was more than a hundred yards from her, Shona sensed the tension in him. He began to run towards her and her own feet took wings, his name a soft breath on her lips. For a moment it seemed eternity divided them, then she was throwing herself into his outstretched arms, her mouth meeting his in a kiss she knew would hold in her heart forever.

  ‘Don’t ever walk away from me again,’ he gasped, holding her face and covering it with kisses.

  ‘I’m sorry, my Niall. I didn’t mean half of the things I said – please forgive me.’

  They walked to the cave, arms entwined. Shona fell on to the sheepskin rugs, her legs weary from the long walk. Niall sat beside her and stroked her hair. ‘I couldn’t sleep last night,’ he whispered, ‘and all because of you, you wee wittrock.’

  ‘Love me, Niall,’ she breathed, her blue eyes serious and her lips, warm and inviting, parted to show her even white teeth.

  ‘I do love you.’

  ‘Love me with your body, Niall. I thought about it last night. Father was out and all I could think about was you. I love you so much I want to give you all of me – my heart and my soul – and – and my body. Please, Niall, give me something to remember when you’re gone. I want to be able to think of us belonging to each other. Our memories are the only things we’re going to have for a long time.’

  He had turned away from her and didn’t speak for a few moments. Outside Tot barked and a light wind rustled the ferns. ‘I want you, Shona,’ he said at last. ‘God knows I’ve wanted you for a long time now. You’re beautiful – so beautiful that I can hardly bear to be alone with you without wanting you. I’ve watched you growing lovelier each time I came back, but because I love you I can’t do anything that might hurt you. When we’re wed your body will belong to me but, till then . . .’ He spread his hands helplessly, unable to express himself further.

  ‘We are wed,’ she laughed softly. ‘We’ve been wed for years. Don’t you remember our marriage in the cave at the Point?’

  ‘Och, Shona, it’s teasing you are. Get up from there and we’ll go for a walk . . . or something.’

  But she lay where she was, strangely inert, and tears fell helplessly on to the sheepskin. ‘I’m afraid, Niall, I’m frightened you’ll be killed and I won’t ever know what the completion of our love would have been like. I won’t be able to remember because you won’t give me now what would be my memories later.’

  He looked at her intently. ‘You really mean it, mo ghaoil?’

  ‘You know I do. It’s not the sort of thing to speak of lightly.’

  She was exquisite, with her burnished hair spread over the white sheepskin and he felt his heart beating up into his throat. ‘We’d better go outside,’ he mumbled before his resolution left him. ‘I won’t be tempted to do something we might both regret later. Please Shona – don’t look at me like that – those eyes of yours all soft and with a look I’ve never seen . . .’

  His words were lost because she had reached up a slender arm and pulled his head down to her breasts. He heard the throb of her heart and felt the softness of her. His body wouldn’t obey his mind. He was beside her, their mouths meeting and parting over and over, their bodies pressed together till he could think of nothing but her. Briefly her hands touched his hardness and for a moment he was embarrassed because he was still in possession of his sensibilities and he thought she might be shocked that the playmate of her childhood could have changed to a virile young man, capable of doing all the things they had once thought so foolish. But her touch had been no accident, and she caressed him again till he felt himself to be on fire and the hard swelling of his passion became a thing apart, something that seemed to move and press without any conscious direction from him. His pelvic muscles seemed to be made of fluid, so easily did they allow him to move up and down, and her body was a supple thing of wonder, moving with his in such perfect unison they might have been of the same flesh. But not yet; he wanted to keep the ultimate moment at bay, to enjoy her lips and the feel of her breasts for as long as he could. The cave was warm and quiet, an intimate little world into which no one could intrude. Slowly he undressed her till she lay naked on the sheepskin. For a moment her blue eyes looked at him, an awareness in them of everything that was happening. ‘Shona,’ he whispered, ‘are you sure?’

  But she closed her eyes without answering and he looked at the sweep of her long lashes and the pulse beating in her slender neck. His eyes slowly travelled to her body, seeing how white was the skin of her torso compared to her arms and legs. He reached out and his hands cupped her small high breasts, then he bent and kissed her hard pink nipples, over and over again till she was making soft little moaning sounds. She put out her hands and again caressed those intimate parts of him till there was no turning back. Trembling, he undressed. For a moment she opened her eyes to look at him. Her gaze travelled over his broad muscular chest and narrow hips then came to rest on his penis. She looked at it wonderingly and touched it again, like a little girl who had unlocked a secret door and discovered adulthood. Their childhood was far behind them now – those long days of innocence, of exploration of the things of nature, now turned in on themselves and the joy of finding such ecstasy in each other.

  But the real ecstasy was still to come. Niall quivered at her touch and could wait no longer. He gathered her to him in a frenzy of excitement and went into her with the drive of an animal. She hadn’t expected the pain and bit her lip to stop from crying out. He had forgotten everything but the intense pleasure he was getting from her body. His brown eyes were glazed and each thrust he made inside her brought a strange low moan from his throat. She endured the pain, it was the ultimate proof of her love for him, and she stroked his neck and shoulders till he finally let out a cry that echoed through the cave. Still he kept moving, releasing every bit of fire that burned in him till finally he fell against her exhausted.

  ‘Shona, my lovely Shona,’ he whispered and tears glistened in his eyes while he kissed her with such tenderness that she cried soundlessly. They were still joined together but he made no attempt to withdraw, falling asleep with his young, boyish face so close to hers she was able to study every little detail. His skin was smooth, the little fuzz of his moustache a shade deeper than his fair head. She put up her hand and touched his firm, sensitive mouth and he awoke with a start, withdrawing from her almost guiltily. ‘Shona, I’m sorry.’ He was full of remorse. ‘I shouldn’t have done it – oh God – after all the times I kept from touching you!’

  ‘Please don’t be sorry, Niall. I wanted you to love me, I’m not sorry and . . .’ she giggled unexpectedly. ‘Shelagh was right, you are a young bull. Now I know something else about you I didn’t before.’ She leaned on her elbow and touched him. ‘Look at it now, it’s a wizened wee Bodach, yet before it was so – big. Does it go like that often?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ he said evasively.

  ‘When you think about girls?’

  ‘When I think about you – and if you don’t stop poking at it you’ll make it happen again.’ He reached for his clothes and noticed a stain on the sheepskin. ‘Shona, I’ve hurt you, you’re bleeding!’ he cried in alarm.

  ‘Only a little,’ she confessed. ‘But don’t worry, my Niall. I loved the pleasure I could give you. The bleeding only means I’m no longer the virgin I was.’

  He fell on his knees and cradled her head. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you so. I should have been gentle but you drove me crazy. It was wonderful but it can’t have been very good for you.’

  ‘It will be – the next time.’

  ‘The next time?’

  ‘We only have five days together, Niall, and I want to belong to you every minute you’re here.’<
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  ‘Let me bathe you,’ he requested, still ashamed that he had hurt her. ‘I’ll get some water from the burn while you dress.’

  He made tea and while it was masking he cleansed her with warmed water. She had protested but his argument stilled her.

  ‘Please let me, I drew the virgin blood from you and it is my right to clean it away.’

  ‘Are you not shocked?’ she asked when it was finished.

  ‘No, I love every bit of you and besides, I know what girls are like. I’ve bathed Fiona manys the time; you’re much the same, though bigger with fluffy red hairs. It’s funny, I often wondered if they’d be red.’

  She gasped. ‘You’ve thought of me in that way then?’

  ‘Of course – a long time ago in fact. I used to try and see but you always had knickers on.’

  ‘NIALL MCLACHLAN!’ She threw a cushion at him and he lay back on the bed and roared with laughter.

  It was growing dark and the air was damp and frosty when they arrived at her gate. He took her hand. ‘I loved you so much this morning I didn’t think it was possible to love you more – now I know I was wrong.’

  ‘Do you, Niall – really? I wanted to prove to you how much I care. I don’t want you to think I’m just a cheap . . .’

  He put a finger over her lips. ‘Hush, don’t dare think the thing. Now I must go. Will you be over tonight? My mother will be expecting you – and your father if he’s not busy.’

  ‘I’ll come even if he doesn’t.’

  She was halfway up the track when she stepped, wondering suddenly how she would face her father. He had an uncanny knack of reading her mind and always knew what her mood was even if she tried to conceal it. Tonight she felt jubilant and very womanly. She didn’t feel ashamed or guilty. Her father had warned her indirectly about the trappings of emotion and she had promised him to be careful. Today she had thrown caution to the wind and she was afraid now that he would guess at her indiscretions.

  But the warm kitchen was quiet and empty. She lit a lamp and saw a note propped against her place at the table. Her father had been asked over to Burnbreddie to dine and discuss farming business with Scott Balfour, laird of Bumbreddie for two years now since his father had died.

  The new laird of Burnbreddie had made slow progress with the wary Rhanna crofters. They didn’t trust a ‘college cissy’ to handle their affairs but gradually they realized they were getting a fairer deal from him than they’d ever had from the whisky-loving womanizer who had been his father. He was generous with the harvests of his land and distributed game and venison equally to all and even those who had critized him with the sharpest tongues had to grudgingly admit he had some gumption after all.

  His wife was no society girl either but a sensible young countrywoman of Scottish landed stock, and she endeared herself to the islanders by taking an active and genuine interest in their lives. Little boys of two and four livened the former gloom of the big mansion house wherein old Madam Balfour, under the firm hand of her daughter-in-law, simpered and ailed less, complained still, but less vehemently, and even enjoyed her two little grandsons.

  Shona took her dinner on a tray by the fire. Tot lolled on one side of her and two cats sat grimly to attention on the other. Three pairs of eyes watched her emptying plate intently and Tot’s mouth watered profusely. Normally, such blatant bad manners would have earned a rebuke, but Shona was barely conscious of her surroundings and sat for a long time gazing dreamily into the fire. Eventually Tot’s snuffling and wheezing brought her to her senses. Shona patted the silky ears and went to the larder and soon the cats were lapping milk and Tot eating her fish and oatmeal.

  Shona went outside to shut the hen-houses and check the cowsheds. Her breath clouded in the air and she looked up to see a million stars. Mirabelle had taught her the various constellations and she stared at the panorama of the heavens, her arms folded over her breasts in delight.

  ‘Oh great God up there,’ she breathed, ‘I thank you for this lovely day with Niall and for all the things I have that are so good. Mirabelle – if you’re listening don’t think bad of me. What I did today was for love, I don’t feel it was wrong though I know you won’t think it was right. Tell Hamish and my mother I send my love – and old Shelagh too.’

  She always prayed in the fashion of her childhood, simple words that gave her great satisfaction and, since the old housekeeper’s death, she had passed messages through her to others who had gone from her life.

  She went indoors and damped the fire. She had already laid the table for breakfast and the big kettle was filled for bedtime cocoa and hot bags. She stepped once more into the frosty night air and met Dodie hovering at the gate.

  ‘He breeah!’ he moaned unhappily.

  ‘He breeah! Is something not right, Dodie?’

  ‘I’m lookin’ for my damty ram so I am. He’s having a fine time with the yowes on the hill and I hear tell the lads from the sheiling of Nigg are girnin’ about it. It’s just talk with them for Dan Russell was blawin’ last spring about his fine lambs and knowin’ fine my Murn was the father.’

  Shona had to hide a smile. After his experience with Ealasaid’s offspring he had decided that the females of the domestic animal kingdom were easier to manage and had hopefully bestowed feminine names on the lambs at birth. When the mistake became apparent the names had stayed because the young ram would only answer to Murn.

  ‘We ought to call him,’ suggested Shona. ‘Was he seen hereabouts recently?’

  ‘Not long since.’

  After a few minutes of calling Shona paused for breath. ‘You know, Dodie, you ought to sell Murn. He’s just causing trouble and with Ealasaid to look after you have enough of a handful. I’ve seen you tramping miles with her potash.’

  ‘Ach, she’s worth it – and I’m not selling Murn. He would miss me too much.’

  ‘Och, c’mon now, Dodie, it’s not right that a fine ram like Murn should be mixing with all those common yowes on the hill. Murn should have hand-picked yowes and you’ll never manage that letting him roam freely.’

  Shona could be very devious when she liked and Dodie stroked his grizzled chin thoughtfully. ‘I never thought on it that way just. Murn is a fine ram, I’d like to see him get goin’ with good yowes. That lot on the hill are a scruffy lot.’

  ‘Well, just you have a good think about it. I’m having to go now.’

  ‘Is your father at home? I’d like fine to ask his advice about Murn.’

  ‘He’s out tonight, Dodie.’

  ‘Ach, what a pity just.’

  She expected him to lope away but he trailed behind her and it was obvious he was in the mood for company. She paused at Niall’s gate. ‘Are you coming in to Strupak?’ she asked kindly.

  ‘Ach, the doctor will be busy.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be delighted,’ she said uncertainly.

  ‘Ach well, maybe for a wee while. I’d like fine to ask somebody about Mum. I’ll hold the gate while you go through.’

  Phebie was less than delighted to see Dodie. She had scrubbed the house till it smelled of soap and disinfectant and she knew that a few minutes of Dodie in any enclosed space would allow his odour to linger for hours but she concealed her feelings admirably and ushered both callers into the parlour.

  Lachlan was dozing by the fire. Dodie immediately settled himself in the opposite chair and very soon the heat from the hearth was coaxing all the trapped smells from his boots.

  Niall came pounding downstairs and burst into the room, his eyes meeting Shona’s in a brief moment of unspoken love.

  ‘Hello, Dodie,’ he acknowledged cheerily, holding his breath as the smell hit him. ‘It’s yourself then?’

  ‘Just for a whiley. I’d like fine to ask the doctor here what he thinks I should do about Murn.’

  ‘I saw him chasing some of Croynachan’s sheep,’ volunteered Niall. ‘Just round about teatime.’

  ‘Aye well, that’s the trouble, chasing too many damty yowes and myse
lf gettin’ into trouble because of it. Wee Shona here thinks Mum’s just wastin’ himself on thon scruff on the hill. She thinks I should sell him and see he gets a chance with some better yowes.’

  Lachlan’s eyes twinkled but when he spoke he sounded so seriously concerned about Mum’s welfare that Dodie listened intently.

  ‘Shona’s right, Dodie. I’ve watched that ram and thought what a fine beast he is. I know old Jock from Nigg is looking for a good ram.’

  ‘Is he that now?’

  ‘Aye, I heard him telling Johnston just the other day.’

  ‘Well now, that would be fine. Mum would be happy with Jock for he’s a kindly wee man and loves his beasts the way I love mine. But I wouldn’t know what price to be askin’. Murn might be a fine ram but he’s been usin’ himself up you might say. Not that he’ll run dry on Jock – oh no, never that, but it’s a wee rest he’s needin’.’

  Phebie, coming in with a laden tray, could hardly keep a straight face and Fiona, a sparkling nymph in a white nightgown, came in for a scone and looked sympathetic at Dodie’s words. ‘Ach poor Mum,’ she consoled. ‘I think he plays too much with the sheep. I saw him jumpin’ on a scraggy old yowe yesterday and her wool must have tickled his belly for his eyes were rollin’.’