The Great Scottish Devil

by Starla Kaye

  She stopped to toss him a look that promised she would give him hell for such treatment. He glared right back and she hurried away, grumbling under her breath. He didn’t care. He would be warming her bottom in a short amount of time.

  Holding on to the last of his nearly gone patience, he faced Annabel. She was breathing hard in her anger, sported a pink handprint on the side of her face, which infuriated him. Agatha would pay for that as well. Then he noticed the pieces of rushes clutched in Annabel’s hand and knew she’d been the one to throw them at Agatha.

  He scowled at her and she dropped them. “Ye will wait fer me in yer chamber.”

  Her chin went up. “She…” But she slammed her mouth shut and marched in clear annoyance toward the stairs.

  Brodie stood there watching her storm away, drawing in steadying breaths. The day had started out in frustration and would end in more frustration. Mayhap he should simply ride away from Urquhart and leave all of the problems for Sir Douglas to deal with.

  Sir Douglas chose that moment to walk up and hand him a mug of ale. “I thought ye might need this, before ye deal with yer women.”

  His women? Aye, they were. Two women were too much fer any mon to be responsible for. He accepted the mug and chugged the ale down. Handing the mug back, he saw the sympathy in his friend’s gaze. “They be driving me crazy.” Then he walked slowly up the stairs.

  He knocked once and opened the door to Agatha’s chamber. She stood by the window in the sparsely furnished room. Her face was pale and her eyes wary.

  “You mean to…” She couldn’t say the words, fidgeted with the sides of her gown.

  “Mean to spank ye, aye.” Brodie shut the door behind him and walked to her. “Ye’ve been asking fer this almost from the day ye got here.”

  “I do not want…” She stood rigidly by the stone wall.

  Knowing it was best not to make her worry over this, he took her hand and pulled her with him to the side of her bed. As her eyes widened and mirrored distress, he sat down and tugged her over his lap. She struggled before managing to plant her hands on the floor. As soon as she did, he tossed her skirt and chemise over her back.

  “Nay!” she squawked, sounding mortified. She immediately wriggled to get free. ”’Tis no’ proper!”

  He refused to let her up, clutched her against him. “We are to be married, my lady. I will see much more than yer bare bottom.”

  She whimpered and continued her struggles. “A husband should not treat his wife in such a horrible manner.”

  His stomach clenched at the talk of their getting married. Even if it was true, he still dreaded it. “A husband is responsible fer his wife. He protects her, guides her, and sometimes must discipline her as well. Many men do this, particularly here in the Highlands.”

  “But I am English!” she protested. “English lords do not—”

  “Ye be wrong aboot that, Lady Stonewall. Me own brother-in-law is an English lord. He disciplines me sister Maggie, as he should.”

  Brodie was tired of talking about the matter and determined to get this over with. He tucked her closer again. “Ye need to learn that all spankings are best received on the bare.”

  He didn’t waste any more time. He held her in place with his left arm. Then he proceeded to smack one quivering buttock after the other, back and forth, firmly but not as hard as he could.

  She cried out from the fist swat, quickly squirming for all she was worth, which irritated him. “Ye best learn to take yer punishment better than this.” He smacked her again, harder. “I am going easy on ye, since this is yer first spanking.”

  “Easy?” she gasped. “It hurts so much!” She bucked and kicked wildly.

  Grinding his teeth, he went right on spanking, longer and harder than he’d planned. His hand was sore by the time she gave in and lay limply over his lap. Her bottom was bright red and heat flamed off of it. He set her none too gently on her feet. She immediately began rubbing her bottom, sobbed, and danced wildly around.

  He shook his head and walked to the door, stopping to look back. “Ye better learn to no’ fight yer earned discipline, or ye’re in fer some rough punishments.” He sighed in resignation. “Now I must go deal with Annabel.”

  “I hope she suffers every bit as much if not more,” Agatha called after him as he closed the bedroom door.

  Annabel sat nervously on the side of her bed. She’d heard Agatha’s spanking…at least she’d heard Agatha crying out. Since she hadn’t actually heard the swats applied to her bottom, she knew Brodie hadn’t been as harsh as he could have been. The other woman just was very dramatic, mayhap not used to being spanked.

  Annabel’s buttocks clenched and unclenched. Sadly, she was familiar with being spanked.

  As he’d done at Agatha’s door, Brodie gave one sharp rap and opened the door to Annabel’s chamber. He looked frustrated more than angry now. She knew that she’d acted inappropriately down in the hall with so many servants and soldiers around. Agatha just got on her nerves too easily. And she’d been irritated with Brodie after their confrontation earlier, so she’d not held in her anger. She did not want to be taken over his knee and spanked, but her tender heart ached for the man who was dealing with far more than he should have to. She being one of his biggest problems.

  Knowing she would get punished no matter how much she wished not to, she accepted it. But she also knew that she needed to limit their closeness. She would have to endure feeling his hand connecting with her bottom. She did not have to endure being taken over his lap and held there.

  He closed the door and met her gaze. She could see the irritation in his eyes, the determination. “Ye know I must do this, Anna. I canna allow such misbehavior. If ye two must fight—which I do no’ like, do no’ do it in front of others.”

  Heart racing, Annabel nodded and stood. Before he could sit down, she turned toward the bed and bent over it, moving far enough forward that her bottom was perched on the edge. Her face flamed as she reached back to pull her skirt and chemise upward. “’Tis best this way, my lord.”

  She heard him blow out a breath, and then he took the garments and pushed them over her back. She put her forehead in her crossed forearms, feeling the heat of embarrassment on her face. “I apologize for my poor behavior. It will not happen again.”

  He didn’t say a word, just went right to swatting her bottom. The first Swat! was hard enough to have her yelping. No doubt loud enough that Agatha heard both the swat and her cry out. After that Annabel gritted her teeth and tried to stay as still as possible while he spanked her soundly.

  Her poor bottom was on fire, hurt something awful. She started squirming, started arching her back, whimpering. “’Tis enough! Please!”

  It seemed he had a need to bring her to the point of breaking down and crying out. He’d given her a much harder spanking than she thought she’d earned. She was upset about that, but took what he needed to give. Now that she’d finally cried out, he seemed to realize how harsh he’d been.

  “Fergive me, Anna,” he husked out. “I dinna mean… I only meant to…”

  She sucked in a ragged breath and glanced back at him through tear-filled eyes. “I am sorry for all you suffer now, my laird. I can survive a spanking.” She shifted a bit and winced. “Even such a hard one.”

  He looked miserable, knowing he’d done worse than deserved. He avoided her eyes and went to the door. “I am sorry.” Then he left, and she was sorry, too. Sorry that she couldn’t take him in her arms and comfort him.

  * * *

  Brodie rode his horse back over the drawbridge, the hoofbeats upon the wood loud, pounding at his head. His headaches came and went faster now. Flickers of memories still dancing in his mind just out of his reach. The only one that stayed with him was of Braden MacKay. It had been four days now since he’d sent word to The MacKay. He was anxious to hear back from the laird. He needed to keep Annabel here until he did hear, but it was becoming harder with each new day.

  He had ri
dden out just after daybreak to get away from the castle and his problems there. It had been two days since he’d punished both Agatha and Annabel. He no longer felt the least bit guilty about the spankings, to either woman. They continued to bicker at each other, but at least they no longer did so in front of others. And when he caught them at it, he frowned and they stopped. It was clear to him that Agatha wished never to receive such humiliation again. Anna, he believed, just didn’t want another spanking anytime soon. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure he could be that close to her again without doing far worse than burning her bottom. He ached more each day with the need to bed her. Even now, as he barely thought of her, his cock hardened and made it difficult to ride.

  He barely acknowledged the guard at the front gate as his thoughts wandered to the wedding ceremony. He should relent and move the date up, as Agatha continued to pester him about. Yet he couldn’t. Something kept him from it.

  As he rode toward the paddocks, he realized his men weren’t practicing at swordplay as they normally would be this time of day in the upper bailey. The villagers that often milled about for one reason or another weren’t there either. He straightened and then heard the sounds of many voices coming from the direction of the keep and nether bailey. He reined his horse in that direction.

  Another tinker’s wagon sat in the middle of that bailey, with an older couple talking excitedly to the crowd gathered around them. Instantly his stomach tightened. His heart pounded in dread. He knew without talking to her that Annabel would try to leave with them. Everything in him cried Nay!

  He dismounted as one of his pages hurried over to take his horse. The boy’s eyes were alight with excitement. Tinkers were always bringers of longed-for wares and gossip. It was gossip that most appealed to his people.

  Agatha, standing on the steps of the keep, spotted him and hurried in his direction. She wove her way through the gathered people. “You can let Annabel leave now. She can travel with them.” She sounded happy, relieved.

  Brodie felt neither relief nor happiness. His jaw was grinding so hard that his teeth hurt. “Has any of them said as much? The tinkers? Annabel?”

  “Not yet, but I am sure—”

  “I do no’ wish to discuss it.” Ever, in truth.

  He left her standing there tapping her foot in irritation. She would wear out his ears talking about this later, but for now, he needed to find Annabel.

  “We dinna ken yer parents verra well,” the older woman with thinning brown hair streaked with gray said. She stood next to Annabel trying to look sincere, trying to put an arm around the younger woman’s shoulders. Annabel kept inching away, as if—she, like him—sensed something not quite right in the woman’s efforts.

  Annabel worried her lower lip and took yet another step aside. “I do not remember hearing them mention knowing you. I do not recognize your names.”

  A wiry little man missing quite a few teeth stepped next to his wife. He flashed a smile at Annabel. “I am sure ye met many people in yer travels, lass. Ye canna expect to remember everyone ye’ve met. But ‘tis sorry we are to hear aboot yer da dying. Douglas was a good mon.”

  Brodie worked his way closer, tensing at the mention of her dead father. He knew the death still cut her deeply. He had passed her chamber door many nights and heard her soft cries. Each time it was harder not to go in and offer her comfort. He would not allow these strangers to hurt her, even if they didn’t mean to.

  “I…I need to go…” Annabel looked frantically around, seeming desperate to get away from the couple.

  “Ah, there ye are, Anna,” Brodie said loudly, capturing her attention as well as quieting everyone around them. Now he was at a loss about what else to say.

  She blinked at him and appeared to sigh in relief. A warm smile spread across her face and she scurried away from the couple. He noticed them both frowning in annoyance as she did so, which worried him. But he forgot that concern as she stopped in front of him, taking his hand to pull him forward with her.

  “Sarabeth, Callum, this is Laird Urquhart. My guardian, as I mentioned.” She squeezed his hand gently and then dropped it. “Laird Urquhart, this is Sarabeth and Callum Campbell. They are tinkers travelling through the area. They did not know that you already had one—me—here.”

  Since she never called him that and didn’t wish to be his ward, he understood that she wanted safety of some kind from these people. Brodie stretched to his most imposing height and flexed every muscle he could. Their eyes widened and he was pleased at least they were intimidated by him, when Annabel never seemed to be.

  “Ye are welcome to stay here or in the village fer a day or so. I am no’ sure if ye will make any sales, but ye may try.” He noticed the displeasure in Annabel’s expression and added for her benefit, “Highland hospitality.”

  Hearing their laird approve that the tinkers could stay around, his people began talking again, began looking at wares hanging from the sides of the wagon and clearly having been set out by the traders. The little man nodded agreement and hurried to pursue any possible sales. His wife remained all too close for another few strained seconds before joining her husband.

  When she headed away, Annabel sighed in relief. “They have asked me to travel with them. Take my own wagon and go along.” She frowned, looking toward them again. “I am not sure how they knew I was a tinker and have a wagon here.”

  Agatha walked next to Brodie, took his arm and looked at her. “I told them.”

  Brodie pulled free of her hand. “Ye told them? Why?” Anger curled through him. He tired of her constantly trying to get rid of Annabel.

  She raised her chin. “I was visiting with Sarabeth for a few minutes and it just seemed right to mention it. Then, when I told her who you were, Annabel, she became anxious to meet you. She seemed excited. She said she knew your parents.”

  Annabel bristled. “But they do not know them!”

  Agatha shook her head sadly. “Are you that desperate to stay here? That you would lie?”

  Brodie puffed up and snapped, “Ye go too far, Lady Stonewall!”

  “They do not know my parents. That woman called my ma Marie. Marie was her middle name. My ma always went by Katherine.” Annabel glanced warily at the tinkers. “My da was Dougal, not Douglas.”

  “I will tell them to leave this day,” Brodie growled, starting to stride in their direction.

  Annabel latched onto his arm and looked uncertain. “Nay. Mayhap they simply confused my parents’ names. The Campbells are elderly, ‘tis possible. I would like to speak with them more. On the morrow. When I have thought this over.”

  “I dinna trust them.” He sighed. “Verra well. They can stay, fer now.” But he didn’t like it.

  Chapter Seven

  Brodie stood on the parapet of the tower house looking out over Loch Ness. There was a slight chill in the air this afternoon, but then the breeze blew off the ice-cold loch. His gaze shifted to the trees on the hills that were starting to change color. Fall was coming, winter not long after that. Before long it would be difficult to travel through the Highlands and almost impossible to cross over the mountains to head back into the heart of England. All of which meant all tinker travelling would be harder very soon. Dangerous. He couldn’t let Annabel leave.

  He braced his arms on the crenellated wall and let his frustrations flow through him. There were many. The most annoying at the moment were the Campbells. They had been here two days now and showed no signs of preparing to move on, although he hadn’t actually told them to leave. But, as tinkers greedy for sales, it surprised him that they stayed so long here. He knew they made some sales now and then. Mainly they seemed to spend time bragging to one and all that their trinkets and fancy fabrics, ribbons and threads, jewelry boxes and necklaces were the finest among the many tinkers travelling through Scotland. He’d thought the bragging would bother Annabel, but she hadn’t seemed to care. Probably every tinker made such statements. It suddenly occurred to him that he’d never seen her try to
sell her wares to anyone here. Odd, that. He would have to ask her about the matter.

  A shiver of unease curled through him. His thoughts went back to the day he’d found Annabel in the lord’s hall of this tower with Gordon. He’d sped over here the second one of the pages had come to him with a message from the tower house guard. His gut had told him Gordon was up to no good. He was more than glad the surly knight was gone now. She’d been so pale when he’d found them together. Angus had tried something; he knew it, even if she’d never admitted as much to him. He’d bent her over the table and spanked her for being foolish enough to go anywhere alone with Gordon. And then he’d given her what he believed was her first orgasm with his fingers. God’s teeth! He shouldn’t have done such a thing. But he wanted to do so again. He wanted to do far more than that to her.

  Cursing, he knew he had to stop being unreasonable and let her leave…before he really did do something foolish. She was warming up to the Campbells, and they still talked about having her travel with them. It was tempting. Yet he couldn’t let her leave until he heard back from The MacKay.

  The MacKay. His father’s old friend was not the only memory that had returned. As he’d walked through the lord’s hall only moments ago, he’d suddenly pictured his father, sitting at that table. Two others—besides him—sat at the table, too, but they were faceless to him yet. He imagined they were his brother and sister. He hadn’t been able to stand there and try to remember more. His head had started throbbing too much. Now he had to face going back through that room to leave the tower and he didn’t look forward to it.

  Brodie sucked in a breath and headed for the doorway into the tower. He needed to stop hiding out up here. He’d just needed some time alone. Everyone wanted something from him today. Douglas wanted to talk about the new men and about some other Urquhart business. One of the serfs wanted to discuss buying his freedom. Agatha—as always—wanted to talk about the wedding ceremony. She was getting impatient, so demanding that he was thinking about burning her butt again to settle her down. And then there was Annabel. She’d started avoiding him, even managed to gain his agreement that she could take her meals sitting with the Campbells instead of next to him. He missed talking to her, missed hearing her lilting laugh, her gentle voice.