Scent of Scotland

by Mac Flynn

  Moray furrowed his brow and glanced at the lady. "What made you enter at such a moment?"

  She turned her nose up at him. "That is the business of ladies."

  "It is my business when my mate is involved," he countered.

  "I hardly think knowing why my wife entered the room will help solve where the ghost wished to lead the young lady," Lord Stewart argued. "Perhaps a priest should be summoned and the spirit exorcised."

  "Perhaps you are right," Moray agreed.

  I looked into his face and shook my head. "But you can't force her to leave! She needs our help!"

  "She desires your help only, and I would not have you left alone with her again," he told me.

  "But she meant me no harm! Her eyes were sad, but there was kindness in them!" I insisted.

  Lady Stewart scoffed. "I saw no kindness. They were as cold as the grave."

  I clutched tighter onto Moray's shirt and looked into his eyes. "Please. Allow me to see what she wishes for me to see."

  He sighed, but nodded. "Very well."

  My face lit up and I enveloped him in a tight hug. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

  Moray pulled me away and looked into my eyes. "But I will still send for a priest."

  My face fell. "But you-"

  "If something was to go awry I would feel better with a priest on hand," he told me.

  "But who will you have handle such a discreet matter?" Lord Stewart asked him.

  "One of my fellows who tutored with me is an ordained priest. I know he will be discreet," Moray assured him.

  "Do you mean Dal?" Lady Stewart guessed.

  Moray nodded. "Just the man."

  "And until he comes? What do we do?" Lady Stewart questioned him.

  "Until then you ladies should not be left alone during the evenings. The White Lady has never appeared before sunset," Moray commented.

  "But she has never been seen outside the dining hall, either!" Lady Stewart reminded him.

  "I am sure we can rely on a spirit to keep her hours," Moray retorted. "Now you two may either be with each other, Mrs. Greer, or with one of us. I would not entrust your safety to anyone else."

  Lady Stewart jumped to her feet and clenched her fists at her side. "Me? Why am I to be haunted by this spirit? I am not of your house."

  "You have seen the White Lady, and we cannot be sure what that portends until Dal arrives," Moray told her.

  The color drained from her ladyship's face and she pressed her hands against her chest. I noticed her shoulders quivered. "Do you. . .you don't think she means to kill me, do you?"

  "Of course not, my love," Lord Stewart comforted her. He stood behind her and grasped her shivering shoulders. "After all, the Lady has never harmed anyone before."

  "Nor do I believe she will harm anyone now, but it is better to be cautious than negligent," Moray suggested. He stood and turned to me to offer his arm. "If you would, my lady."

  I glanced from his arm to his face as the lord and lady left the room. "Where do you mean for me to sleep?"

  "In your own room, if you wish, or mine," he offered.

  I shuddered as I recalled the ghostly, glowing face so close to mine, and took his arm. He helped me to my feet and I pressed against his side. "I would wish it to be yours," I told him.

  He bowed his head. "As you wish."

  Moray led me upstairs to my room so I could gather together some clothes, and then we ventured into the west wing. The darkness and silence was heavy in that part of the house, and I pressed close to him as my eyes wandered over the deep darkness.

  "Does no one else occupy this wing?" I whispered to him.

  "No one but McKenna, and he occupies a room closer to the entrance hall," he replied.

  I looked to him and frowned. "Why does no one lese room in this wing?"

  "Because it is a cold and drafty building, little fit for others," he told me.

  "Then why do you live in the far chambers?" I questioned him.

  "Because I am more immune to the effects of cold and damp," he explained.

  "Is no one but McKenna and yourself a werewolf?" I mused.

  He nodded. "That is correct."

  "Why do you not change them? Is it so difficult?" I wondered.

  He furrowed his brow. "Not difficult, but it would be dangerous. The strength and speed of a werewolf is a great responsibility, and to give it to anyone would be the height of folly."

  "Then the curse is given?" I guessed.

  "It is given, or you are born with it as Laird and Lady Stewart, and I were," he explained.

  "How is it given?" I wondered.

  Moray turned to me with a sly smile. "That is a curious question from a reluctant mate. Is there some design behind your asking?"

  I blushed and looked ahead. "N-no, I was merely curious."

  He chuckled. "It is really quite simple. The human must agree to the curse, and then a mark is placed on their chest here-" He pointed at a point on the left side of his chest and just above the collar bone. "And the deed is done."

  I felt the color drain from my face. "And that is all? Only a small scratch?"

  "A small amount of blood must also be administered into the scratch. Then the wound heals, and yes, it is done," he agreed. He studied me for a moment and sighed. "But you needn't worry. Even in my most wild state I will never force you to change."

  I raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

  "You have more word as a gentleman and a werewolf," he swore.

  I snorted. "I am not sure of the latter, and I trust little the former," I retorted.

  He smiled. "Then I will be very glad when I have proven my sincerity to you."

  I folded my arms and looked away from him. "We shall see."

  CHAPTER 22

  By this time we reached his chambers, and my nightgown and spare dress were laid out on a small table. I took up the nightgown and turned to the lord.

  "If you would," I requested.

  He raised an eyebrow. "If I would what?"

  I nodded at the door. "If you would please leave while I dress."

  A sly smile slipped onto his handsome face. "Have you forgotten that I have seen all of you twice before?"

  I blushed and pressed the nightgown against my chest. "I have not forgotten, but I would like to keep some propriety between us."

  "We are mates," he reminded me as he strode up. I thought I caught a faint hint of a yellow hue in the depths of his eyes. "And as such propriety is less a worry than you would assume."

  "I haven't accepted your offer," I reminded him as I took a step back.

  My rear bumped into the table. He took a few long steps and stood before him. His hands were laid on the table on either side of me, and he leaned his face towards mine so there was hardly space between us. I could feel the heat from his strong, tense body, and I swallowed a lump in my throat. When he spoke his voice was thick and deep, and there was a tinge of growl to the words.

  "It has been many days since our last pleasant interaction," he whispered. He tilted his head to one side and hovered his lips over mine. "I know we both crave the attentions of the other."

  Moray wrapped his arms around me and his lips pressed against mine. His muscled body wrapped neatly around mine and enveloped me in his warmth. The nightgown dropped to the floor between us, forsaken and forgotten as I fell into his sensual kiss. I groaned and he pulled me tighter against him.

  After a long moment we broke apart and gasped for air. Now his eyes definitely contained a yellow glow, but by then I didn't care. A heavy blanket of lust descended on me and enticed me into its wicked arms. His fingers worked their way through the strings of my dress as he blazed a trail of kisses down my throat.

  I sighed and groaned as I embraced the wanton desire that flooded my senses. I was his to do with what he wished, and what he wished was what both of us ached for. Lustful, sinful pleasure was our sole desire. We longed for a union of our bodies. I imagined us twined around one another atop the covers wit
h him atop me, and the heat in my flesh burned anew.

  My dress fell to the floor, and his clothes soon joined it. He swept me into his arms and placed me atop the covers. His sweat-covered, panting body shimmered in the faint glow of the warm fire. Faint specks of fur broke through his skin, and his heated eyes shined with a lustful light.

  The ache inside me was bittersweet. I craved immediate satisfaction, but I hungered for the sensual road he promised with his sweet caresses. One of his hands swept down my side and teased the coarse hairs between my legs. I squirmed and bit my lip to keep back the cry of frustrated anguish. My hands grasped the sheets and my swollen, aching breasts rapidly moved up and down.

  "Let me hear you," he growled.

  His finger slid into my wet folds and brushed against my womanhood. I gasped. My hips jumped into his touch. He stopped his delicious stroking.

  "Tell me you want this," he commanded me. "Beg for my touch."

  "Please," I groaned. My hips rocked to and fro, but his finger remained still.

  "Louder," he demanded.

  I arched my back and whimpered. The burning ache inside me was too much to bear. I needed his touch, his hold, his body against mine, inside mine. There was nothing in the world so sweet as our love-making, and even if I had to sell my soul I would have it.

  "Please touch me. Make me yours. Take me however you please, but do not stop," I pleaded.

  His lips curled back in a feral grin. I sighed as his finger once more stroked my sensitive body. The delicious warmth of lust and carnal desire engulfed me. I leaned back and reveled in the feel of his sensual touch. He leaned down and nipped at one of my quivering, aching breasts. The mound of flesh was as pliable clay beneath his warm lips. I gasped when he enveloped a nub in his hot mouth.

  His attentions to my body drove me into a frenzy of desire. I groaned and squirmed atop the sheets. My fingers clenched and unclenched. I panted and ached. Never would I grow tired of such loving touches, such lustful desire as that which then consumed me.

  "More," I groaned as I arched my back. His finger moved faster against me and my hips matched his speed. The ache built to a feverish pitch. "Oh God, never stop. Please never stop."

  He lifted his head and showed off his sharp teeth. His eyes were autumn-colored, and his ears were pointed. Small hairs descended down either side of his face and a flowing mane covered his back. His hands were more claw-like, but no less gentle. He was a beast, a feral monster, and I longed for this monster to take me and make me his.

  I squirmed beneath his possessive gaze. "My lord," I moaned.

  "Mine," he growled.

  He removed his finger and penetrated deep inside me with his thick, throbbing manhood. The lust inside us took full control and changed his teasing touches into possessive demand. He grasped my back and pulled me against his powerful thrusts as we slid into a feral, bestial rut. I leaned my head back and reveled in the delicious abandon. There was no decorum, no manners. Only two people who longed to satisfy the most carnal of cravings.

  "My lord! My lord!" I chanted again and again.

  "Louder!" he demanded as he sped up his wanton taking of my body.

  "Oh God, yes! Faster! Oh God, faster!" I pleaded. My body jerked and tensed beneath him. Wave after wave of delicious pleasure washed over me until I knew nothing but the feel of him inside me. My orgasm took me away, and I cried to the world my pleasure. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

  My body tensed and convulsed. I clutched onto my lover and rode the waves of sensual pleasure until they receded into the distance. My lover thrust a few more times before exhaustion overcame him. He slipped beside me and pulled me against his chest. The only sound in the quiet room was our gasps for air.

  Moray leaned down and nuzzled his face into my neck. "You appeared to enjoy my attentions," he teased.

  "It's difficult to deny the Devil," I returned.

  "Then let the Devil make us more comfortable," he requested.

  Moray pulled some sheets over our naked, sweat-covered bodies and pulled some pillows beneath our heads. We basked in the heat of one another, and both of us fell into blissful sleep.

  The darkness of the room told me night was still upon us. I lay on my side with one of Moray's strong arms around me. His body was pressed against my back, but still I felt chilled. A light shone through my eyelids that I assumed to be the fire, and my eyes fluttered open.

  I started back when I beheld the glowing face of the ghost not more than a foot from mine. She was bent over me and her bright eyes stared unblinkingly at me. I couldn't move. I couldn't even scream. My voice caught in my throat. The ghost straightened and floated backwards towards the door as she had done in my room. Her hand beckoned to me.

  The impulse to follow her was too strong to deny. I leaned towards her, but Moray's arm grasped me tight. My movement also alerted him, and his eyes flew open. At the same time, the ghost vanished.

  Moray sat up and pulled me close against his chest. He snarled at the vanished spirit, but the White Lady did not reappear. Warmth returned to the room, and the fire roared to life. Moray turned his attention to me, and I saw his eyes glowed in the darkness.

  "What was that?" he asked me.

  "That was the White lady. I think you frightened her away," I told him.

  Moray pursed his lips and for a moment studied the spot where the ghost had vanished before he turned away. He lit a candle on the nightstand and tossed aside the sheets that lay over him.

  "What are you doing?" I asked him as he slid out of bed and gathered his pants.

  "I will stoke the fire and remain awake for the remainder of the night," he told me. He slipped on his clothes and walked over to the fire. The flames had sputtered and descended into embers.

  "Then shall I keep you company?" I offered.

  Moray shook his head as he took the poker in hand and stoked the coals. "That won't be necessary. One pair of eyes will no doubt recognize such an intruder should she reappear."

  "Then it would be better that they be mine," I insisted. "She did flee at your awakening."

  Moray paused in his fire tending and turned to me with a frown. "I was awakened by your movement. What did you mean to do?"

  I winced and hung my head. "I. . .I meant to follow her. . ." I murmured.

  "Why?" he asked me.

  I closed my eyes and shook my head. "I'm not sure." I lifted my eyes and met his gaze. "She beckoned me to follow, and I felt I had to obey." It had felt so natural, but under the circumstances I knew how it might have been to follow a spirit into the depths of the castle, or even outside into the cold.

  "If that is the case than it would be better that I remain awake and you get some rest," he insisted.

  I glared at him. "I am not a-a-" I covered my mouth to hide an unconquerable yawn. "I am not a child," I finished, as did any hope of my convincing him.

  Moray chuckled and returned to his fire duties. "Then remain awake."

  "I will!" I agreed.

  I would prove to him I could stay awake even if it cost me a good night's rest.

  CHAPTER 23

  I regret to say but I lasted no more than ten minutes. My weariness from our coupling was stronger than my stubbornness, and the next I knew light streamed through the windows. I sat up and rubbed my eyes before I recalled last night's adventures. My eyes widened and swept over the room. It was empty but for me, but the fire was recently stoked and fed.

  Footsteps in the hall startled me. I pulled the covers up to my chin and ducked low as the door opened. Much was my relief when Moray slipped into the room. In his hands was a tray filled with delicious breakfast food.

  "I thought perhaps you would awaken soon, and fetched us some food," he informed me. He walked over to the small table near the fire and set out the plates and food. "However, I must request you not eat in bed."

  I snorted. "A wolf who is tidy. How very strange," I teased.

  "Even a wolf's den has its clean etiquette, so I would prefer you dine at the tab
le," he requested.

  My eyes narrowed and I wrapped the covers tighter around myself. "Not before I am dressed."

  He swept his arm to my fresh dress that lay over the back of one chair. "I will not detain you."

  I scowled at him. "And you will also leave me to dress myself."

  Moray smiled and dropped his arm. "Do you still insist on this shyness?" he teased.

  "I insist on some privacy," I demanded.

  "Then I will cure you of your shyness," he promised.

  Moray strode over to the bed and grabbed the sheets. He gave a mighty tug and all of the sheets were ripped from my hand save the one closely wrapped around my body. I leapt over the opposite side of the bed and hugged the sheet to myself.

  "What are you doing?" I shrieked.

  "I am trying to rid you of your annoying prudishness," he told me. He stalked around the bed, but I lunged across the mattress and to the side closest to the fire. Moray grinned and his eyes took on a feral hue as he crawled over the bed. "Shall we make this a hunt?" he wondered.

  I spun around to face him and backed up. "No, we shall not!" I protested.

  My rear hit the chair that held my dress just as Moray lunged and grabbed the other side of the sheet. He tugged it from my hand, but I grabbed the dress and covered myself with the clothing. Moray straightened and tossed aside the sheet.

  "There. You look much better in a dress," he complimented me.

  I scowled at him and backed up towards the door. "You-you monster!" I shouted.

  The door opened and McKenna stepped inside. "My laird, the post is-"

  I turned half around and noticed his eyes lay on my exposed rear. I spun around and shook my fist at him. "Pervert! Indecent demon!" I yelled.

  Moray walked up to me with a wide smile on his lips. "You were saying, McKenna?"

  McKenna coughed into his hand, but he couldn't hide his red cheeks. "The post is ready for your letter, and any final instructions."

  "Have you the 'gift?'" Moray asked him.

  McKenna bowed. "It is packed."

  "Excellent. I will be down shortly with the letter," Moray assured him.

  "Very well, my laird," McKenna replied. He bowed to us, and shut the door behind himself.

  Moray strode over to the table and picked up an envelope which had lain on the tray. I furrowed my brow and tilted my head to one side.