“Ye’ll nae put yer hands on me again,” Robert hissed. “Dae ye hear me?”
A choked gasp bubbled up from Cyril’s throat, and he seemed unable to form a coherent word, so he simply nodded. A vicious smile crossed Robert’s lips as his eyes bore into the man.
“And ye’ll never tell me what I can and cannae dae. Is that understood?” he said, his voice low and gruff.
Cyril nodded again, and Robert sneered at him, tightening his grip on the man’s throat. Cyril’s face began to turn a dark shade of red, and a high-pitched wheeze escaped him. After a long moment, Robert released him, and Cyril fell to his hands and knees, swallowing deep gulps of air. Robert lingered over him for a moment, relishing the rush of power that filled him.
But then he turned and strode away, walking through the warren of corridors to the room he knew Pringle preferred to dine in. He was known to the guards standing outside the door, and they made no move to stop him from entering. He pushed through the door and into the small chamber, the guard closing the door behind him.
The room was twenty feet by twenty feet, made of a rough cut, dark stone and was without windows. Torches hung in sconces on the walls, casting a flickering light across the stone walls and the embroidered tapestries hanging upon them. It created eerie moving shadows, giving the chamber an ominous feeling to it.
Pringle sat at a wide, round table of polished wood so dark it was almost black. The table was laden with food that filled the air with a dozen different aromas that made his mouth water. Robert spied a platter of roasted duck and onion, candied sweet potatoes, a mix of honeyed carrots and beets, fried potatoes, hard cheese, and brown bread so fresh, steam still curled from the loaf. His stomach growled, reminding him he had not eaten since that morning. And it was an unsatisfying meal of boiled eggs and crusty biscuits at that.
Pringle looked up at him as he stuffed a bit of duck into his mouth and a rivulet of grease rolled down his chin. Robert had hoped Pringle would invite him to sit down and join him, but his eyes fell upon the bag in his hand.
“Well? What news?” Pringle asked.
Assuming he wasn’t going to be invited to the meal, Robert walked over and turned the bag over, letting its contents spill out onto the surface of the table. The ragged stump dripped crimson spots onto the wood as the hand sat amid the collection of twigs and leaves he’d grabbed when he scooped up the hand.
A look of distaste crossed Pringle’s face as he looked at the hand, his eyes focusing on the recognizable ring. It had belonged to Olbrecht, one of the fiercest of the conscripts he’d brought in to fight Sowkirk’s Laird. Pringle’s face darkened as the implications of the man’s death, one of the most capable with a blade and respected of all the conscripts he’d brought in, settled upon his shoulders.
“What happened?” Pringle demanded, still not inviting him to sit and eat.
“It was as I told you it might be. She’s capable with a blade and has rightly earned her reputation. She dispatched two of the three with ease. Her cousin ran the other through,” Robert replied simply.
He had thought of embellishing the story, just to make sure Pringle understood the gravity of the situation. But he thought the reality of it made his position look just as bad.
“I warned you not to underestimate her, Master Pringle. I told－”
“Yes, yes. I’m aware of what ye told me,” he snapped. “How can one wee lass be so much trouble? Perhaps thae conscripts are not as formidable and capable as I thought.”
“Tis nae that, Master Pringle. Yer conscripts are formidable and capable. Ye’re gettin’ yer coin’s worth out of them,” Robert pressed. “Thae problem ye have is that thae lass is better than ye give her credit for. Continue tae underestimate her, and ye’ll only end up with more dead conscripts. I’ve got no doubt she and thae small force of men she’s gathered about her can turn yer conscripted men tae shreds. Nobody fights so hard as somebody fightin’ for their home or a cause, especially if that cause is revenge. Ye ken this.”
“She’s a lass. How can she defeat these supposedly mighty warriors from thae German nation?”
“Because she’s been trainin’ with some of thae most ruthless pirates tae sail the seas,” Robert replied. “She’s been trainin’ for this day her whole life. She aims tae have her vengeance for what ye did all those years ago.”
Pringle waved him off. “’Tis nae me fault her da couldnae defend his own keep. I did what I did because it was me right. And thae only way to move up in this world is tae take what ye want. Tis thae way of thae world.”
“Mebbe so, Master Pringle. But I kent plenty of people whose kin have been killed like that. I think I can say all that matters tae her is that ye killed her ma and da, and she wants her vengeance. She wants ye tae suffer for what she feels is thae wrong ye did her. That tae seems tae be thae way of the world, eh?” Robert said.
“Silly, stupid lass.”
Robert shrugged. “Tis thae natural way of thae world tae seek vengeance on those who wronged ye tae, daenae forget,” he said. “And if yer goal is tae take thae Baron’s chair for yerself, she’s a distraction. But a distraction ye’ll need tae deal with before she becomes a problem.”
Pringle scoffed, then sighed as if pained, and sat back in his seat. His face clouded over as he considered Robert for a long moment, a look of resignation on his face. Robert knew he had him then. Knew that Pringle would take heed of his counsel and listen to him from then on.
“Might as well sit then. Fill yer belly,” he said. “Ye can tell me what ye think we should dae next.”
Robert had to suppress his smile. It was all playing out just as he’d imagined it so many times. And in fact, he did have some ideas about how to proceed. He knew Aileas’s weakness and how to bring her to heel without disrupting Pringle’s plans to conquer these lands and declare himself the new Baron.
Chapter Eighteen
“Ye could’ve been killed,” he said.
“But I wasnae. And I’m all right. Barely a scratch, truth be told.”
He grunted and looked skeptical about her pronouncement. It had been a little worse than a scratch. She had to admit… though only to herself. But it was not a mortal or even a dangerous wound. Dand had patched her up after the fight the night before, and she was good as new after that. More or less, anyway. The wound had left her with a dull throb in her side. But Aileas knew that too would fade in time, and the scar it left behind would be her only reminder of it… a reminder to move faster and to never lose focus.
“I think we should go tae Baron Begbie,” Luke said firmly. “If he’s sendin’ assassins tae murder, tis gettin’ serious, Aileas. Tis time we got some help.”
She shook her head, vigorously. “Nay. Thae Baron owes me nothin’. He’s nae goin’ tae help me. Nae when he’s likely goin’ tae see me as a rival anyway. I bet he hopes me and Pringle kill each other. It’d make things easier for him in thae long run anyway.”
“And I told ye he’s nae like that. He’s a good man.”
Aileas grimaced and took a drink of her wine as she sat back in the chair. They sat at the table in Luke’s home. It was much like Dand’s, in that there was a stone fire pit in the center of the main room with furs spread around to lounge upon. One small square window had been cut out of each wall; but unlike Dand’s home, Luke put small squares of cloth over them to help keep the chill out, as well as a longer one over the larder.
A narrow corridor connected the main room to three sleeping chambers he’d showed her earlier. They were the chambers he’d helped his da build. She thought it was cozy and felt even more like a home than Dand’s place. Aileas thought he apparently wanted to fulfill his parents’ dream of filling their home with a large family. It was a thought that made her blush.
Richly woven tapestries adorned two of the walls, and he had several buckets of plants hanging from the ceiling. On the opposite side of the room from where they sat stood a large wooden bookcase filled with books. Reading and making let
ters had always been part of her schooling when Logan was raising her, but for some reason, she was surprised that Luke had such a collection of books.
A gentle smile touched his lips. “‘Twas me ma and da who started me readin’ early. They believed that bein’ educated was necessary tae make yer way in thae world,” he said softly. “I learned tae love tae read because of them.”
Aileas nodded, a soft smile touching her own lips as she considered him. It was her first time in his home. He’d told her with some sense of pride that his father had built it, and as he’d gotten older, he’d helped add to it. He said his parents had wanted a large family, but they died before they ever got the chance to have more children. Luke was it. The last of his line. Unless he had children of his own. It was an offhanded remark earlier that had made both of them uncomfortable for a moment.
“So what are ye goin’ tae dae then? Ye’ve lost thae element of surprise. ‘Twas one of thae best things ye had goin’ for ye,” Luke said.
She shrugged. “I daenae ken yet. Me and Dand are workin’ on it. We’ve got tae rework our plans, but we can still surprise him,” she said. “Just because he kens I’m here and that I’m comin’ for him, doesnae mean I’m helpless, or we’re beat.”
“I ken that. But havin’ thae Baron’s men at yer back can only help. And like I told ye before, Pringle is a man who’s been a thorn in his side for a while. I’d be willin’ tae bet he’d jump at thae chance to take him out.”
“This is nae his fight, Luke. ‘Tis mine,” she argued. “‘Tis me kin I’m goin’ tae avenge, and me birthright I seek tae reclaim. I daenae fancy sharin’ either with some fancy bleedin’ noble I daenae even ken.”
“Aileas, he’s nae－”
“He’s nae like that. Yes, I ken. Ye keep tellin’ me.”
Luke’s face darkened as his frustration with her seemed to grow. He looked away and took a long swallow of his wine, obviously taking a moment to calm down. She wished he could understand just how personal this was for her. Wished he could understand how long she had waited for this moment and just how badly she desired to look into Pringle’s eyes as the life faded from them. She was determined that her face would be the last thing he saw before he left this world.
This was her vengeance to be had. And she was not about to share it with a man she didn’t know. A man who didn’t know the history of the feud between their clans or the hatred that ran so bitterly deep. Even worse, she would not have this fancy noble steal her vengeance by deciding that Pringle should be arrested for his crimes rather than let her mete out the punishment he deserved. She knew nobles sometimes got strange notions of justice, and she would not be robbed of her chance to deliver true justice for her family.
Luke finally looked at her, his eyes filled with compassion and concern. “I only keep pushin’ thae idea because I worry about ye,” he said. “Pringle is a ruthless man, and I’d nae have ye lose yer life. I daenae like thae thought of losin’ somebody I－care about.”
Her heart stuttered drunkenly in her chest, thinking he was going to say something else. And when he didn’t, Aileas couldn’t help but notice the hollow echo of disappointment ring through her. She quickly stuffed it down though. It was not the right time for that, and besides, she didn’t know precisely how she felt about him either. She knew she cared for him, but that was all she could admit, even to herself.
As if the admission had startled him as much as it had her, he looked away and took another long swallow of his wine. Aileas gave him a soft smile and laid a hand against his cheek, turning him back to face her.
“I care about ye tae,” she said. “But I’m nae thae delicate flower ye seem tae think I am. I’m made of sturdier stuff, Luke. I willnae break easily, and I ken how tae fight.”
“I ken all that. But ‘tis like I said, I daenae like thae idea of somebody I care about in harm’s way. And I’ll da everythin’ in me power tae see that no harm actually comes to ‘em,” he said.
A mischievous smile touched her lips. “Had a lot of lasses ye been protectin then, eh? And here I thought I was special.”
His cheeks flared with color, and a rueful laugh passed his lips. “Tis nae what I meant, and ye ken it.”
She shrugged. “I ken. I thought ye needed tae laugh though.”
“Ye seem tae always ken what I need better than I dae,” he said softly.
“Aye. I dae. And ye better nae ever forget it.”
Luke leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers, the weight of everything left unspoken between them pressing down on her. But as she let herself get lost in his kiss, that weight lessened, and she felt that familiar and welcome warmth blossom within her.
Luke stood up and pulled her to her feet, his mouth finding hers again. She melted against him, relishing the feeling of his hands sliding up and down her body. He planted a line of kisses down her neck as he cupped her breasts, squeezing them through her bodice. As she shuddered with the feeling of his lips and tongue upon her skin, his nimble fingers made short work of the buttons on her bodice. She raised her arms and allowed him to slide the tunic off her body.
Aileas moaned quietly as his hard, calloused hands caressed her breasts, his mouth and tongue finding her pert nipples. A soft yelp passed her lips as he gave one a gentle bite. She tugged at his tunic, eventually managing to pull it off of him. She ran her hands over his toned and taut body, dotting his chest with her kisses and giving his nipple a firm bite in return.
He laughed gently and gripped her hair, pulling her head back. He kissed her neck again, his movements becoming more frantic as his desire grew. Aileas reached down and slipped her hand into his breeches, gripping his rigid staff tightly. And as she slowly stroked him, Luke let out a groan that was long, loud, and dripping with the sound of pleasure.
Before he could stop her, Aileas fell to her knees before him and yanked his breeches down. She gripped his cock firmly, continuing to stroke it as she circled her tongue around the tip of it. She felt him shudder as she licked the head of his staff, and when she took him into her mouth, he moaned her name.
Luke tangled his fingers in her hair and pulled on it as she worked him up and down, her mouth and hand moving in unison on his shaft. Aileas heard his breath quicken and felt his body tense beneath her hands. A smile curling the corners of her mouth upward, Aileas tightened her lips and the grip she had on his shaft, sucking and stroking with a zeal that made him cry out.
A choked gasp escaped him, and Luke staggered back a couple of steps, pulling himself out of her mouth. Aileas looked up at him, her smile growing. He looked down at her, an expression of surprise and ecstasy twisting his features.
“Ye may be thae Devil himself,” he croaked.
“Aye. I may be at that.”
She watched as Luke stepped out of his boots and breeches, admiring him as he stood before her naked for the first time. His body was hard and thick with corded muscle, making him look like he’d been chiseled from marble. His body rippled as he moved, and he was so beautiful to look upon, he nearly took her breath away.
Luke moved over to her and leaned down, gently taking off one boot and then the other. He kissed her gently as he slipped his hand into her breeches, pushing them down. Kneeling down in front of her, Luke slipped one leg out, and then the other, tossing her breeches to the side. Then he set one of her legs up on his shoulder and leaned forward, burying his face between her thighs.
Aileas gasped when his tongue slipped between her slick folds. She gripped his hair, pulling on it hard as he lapped at her center. Luke grabbed her backside, his fingers pressing into her flesh as he pulled her to him, plunging his tongue deeper into her. As he lapped at her warm, wet core, Aileas felt her legs growing weak, suddenly thankful his hands were on her backside, helping to hold her up.
Luke took her bud, swollen and throbbing, between his lips, and sucked on it hard, making her gasp. She tightened her grip on his hair, pulling him even closer to her, and Luke lapped at her with an intensity
and zeal that stole the breath from her lungs. She ground herself against his face, pulling his hair and moaning his name.
He lapped at her with a frenzy, sending waves of pleasure rolling through her. Aileas could barely stand, could barely breathe. Her head spun, and she felt like she was on the verge of passing out. The pressure was building up inside her, and she knew she was rushing toward a climax that would catapult her into an abyss of ecstasy. She bit her bottom lip, willing herself to get there.
Then Luke slipped his tongue deeper into her, and Aileas shuddered. She let out a long, stuttering breath, and then she suddenly felt weightless. She heard Luke grunt as she pulled his hair even harder as she cried out. Aileas trembled wildly, her head spinning. Her heart was beating so hard, she thought it might burst out of her chest, and she couldn’t catch her breath. But she felt amazing.
Every Highland Sin: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Page 15