"Do not do this," she pleaded softly even as she arched against him in reaction to his caress.
"Ye want me," he said huskily as his thumbs teased the taut ends of her breasts until she moaned. "Your body tells me that in a dozen different ways." His fingers unlaced her breeches.
"My body has been well taught. Aye, it screams yes, but my heart and mind scream nay."
" 'Tis not them I seek to possess," he growled as his hungry mouth played over her breasts.
Storm nearly sank beneath a wave of indiscriminate desire. Iain felt for her. He knew her emotions were running high and that she was vulnerable. The man she loved, and he was sure she loved Tavis, was in serious danger. The man she loved had also never spoken of love. She was in the midst of a battle, caught on the inside with her hereditary enemies while a new and more dangerous foe lurked outside. She was also alone, her kin and friends dead. It was not fair of Sholto to take advantage of that extreme vulnerability, yet Iain could understand it. On the morrow they could die. Just once Sholto wanted to taste all he had admired from a distance. Iain had felt the urge himself, but had concealed it. He would see that Sholto controlled his desire as well, but he could not break in yet. It would be better for them to resolve it themselves.
"Please, Sholto, do not," she gasped as his hand slid inside her breeches to caress that which only Tavis had ever known. "I do not want this. I do not," she stressed, but her voice was husky with desire.
He lifted his head from the breasts he had been savoring to stare at her, one hand brushing the hair from her face while his other continued to caress her womanhood. "Your mouth says nay, but this"—he felt her squirm beneath his gentle, seductive probing—"this says aye. 'Tis warm and ready for a man."
She tried to pull his tormenting hand away, but when she clutched his arms her fingers would not pull, only grip. " 'Tis just that I have no control. There is so much troubling me, making me weak. Do not take advantage of that. Heed my words, not my body, for it betrays me. This is so very wrong."
Cupping her face between his hands, he settled himself between her thighs and moved against her with a subtle urgency that made her tremble. "Is it? Feel what ye do to a man. Is it wrong for me to want to satisfy that? I want ye and I want to satisfy that craving ere I meet what could be my last dawn."
"That is unfair," she whispered. "First ye play upon my passions and now my sympathy."
"Lass, an it will get me inside, 'tis little I willnae do. He doesnae love ye," he said, and suddenly knew that he lied.
"I know."
"He willnae wed ye. Comes the time or the choice, and ye will be on a horse back to England."
"I know that too."
"Then why, lass? Why deny the wants of our bodies? The pleasure we could share?"
It was difficult to keep from weeping, but she replied in a small voice, "I love Tavis."
Sholto went very still and studied her. Then, with a groan, he collapsed upon her, burying his face in her breasts, and his hands clenched into fists at each side of her head. She lay still for a moment to see what he would do next, but then she shifted a little beneath the weight of him.
"God's teeth, woman," he rasped. "Dinnae move. Lie as still as the dead. If ye wriggle, I'll be at ye again."
Storm lay so still she nearly forgot to breathe. It was a few moments before he rose to his knees and began to do up her laces. His face was pale and drawn, and Storm felt both sorry and guilty. If she had not responded, he would not be suffering the ache of unfulfilled desire.
"Ye would have hated yourself afterward," she said softly as he moved off of her to sprawl on his back at her side.
"I ken that. I'm nay too fond of meself now." He took a deep breath. "I am sorry, lass."
" 'Tis naught, Sholto," she murmured, and meant it, as she tucked her hair into her cap. "Phelan will be along soon."
"Oh, aye?" Sholto sat up. "Ye arenae going out o' Caraidland, lass."
"I am. Phelan and I are going to bring Tavis back."
"Nay, 'tis foolhardy. He'll be all right. Sir Hugh willnae kill him. He's worth a high ransom."
"Aye. I am sure Sir Hugh will keep Tavis alive for that. At least until he is certain of victory. 'Tis not that which I fear. Ye do not know the man as I do."
"I ken that he's a bastard what beats wee lasses near to death and consorts with an amoral whore." Sholto grabbed her gloves away before she could don them. "Tavis can hold through a beating, lass."
"I am sure he can, though I have little wish that he must needs prove it. That, too, is not what I fear. The man wants me for my fortune, though I think 'tis also because I say nay to him. That enrages him. It enrages him that another man has had what he saw as his. The way Tavis humiliated him that day also enrages him. Sir Hugh is not a sane man when he gets into a rage. He also enjoys inflicting pain. He, as well as Lady Mary, are stirred by the inflicting of pain. So stirred that they made love by my side ere they ceased beating me.
"Nay," Sholto breathed, and his grip went lax, allowing her to retrieve her gloves.
"Aye. There is something else ye ought to know about Sir Hugh. When he wants a woman but she says nay and turns to another beating the man is not all he does. Aye, Tavis would be returned alive, but he could well be returned no longer a whole man. Sir Hugh's way of punishing a man who possesses what he wants is to remove that which does the possessing. He has done so to two men that I know of. That is what his parting words meant. He knew I would understand his threat."
"Ye say this to get me to let ye go," Sholto said, but he was deeply shaken by her words.
"Nay. She speaks the simple truth," Phelan said, causing everyone to jump with surprise, for even Iain had not seen him enter. " 'Tis a method that works.
Men turn their backs when he reaches for their women, and women all say aye."
Nearly choking on the words, Sholto said, "Mayhaps the deed is already done."
"I think there is time, for Lady Mary could ne'er turn aside a man like Tavis. She will want use of him as a man ere Sir Hugh changes that, mayhaps e'en promise it will not be done an he performs well."
Sholto rubbed his hands over his face. "How can a lad and a wee lass save him?"
"We are very good at sneaking about. Ye did not hear Phelan arrive just now, did ye?"
"Nay, but then, I wasnae expecting anyone. They will be looking for a rescue sortie to be made."
"Aye, but mayhaps not from the direction of Hagaleah. By using this tunnel, we shall circle about upon them and approach from the south. Then, too, they will expect men, not two wee ones."
"I cannae like it. Father said nay to the trade. He doesnae want ye in that man's hands."
"He also expects Sir Hugh to follow the rules of hostage-holding, and the man will not. Sholto, I must go. Surely ye must see that?"
"Aye, but that doesnae make me feel right about ye going."
"Ye cannot lose any more sword arms so ye cannot send fighting men. They would be killed if caught. Phelan and I will not be. We are also not important to the defense of Caraidland. E'en if we were caught, I can see to Tavis's release an only I threaten to kill myself ere Hugh weds my fortune."
"Do ye have a weapon?" he asked, which they all saw as the agreement it was.
Phelan held up two stout sticks. "Shillelaghs. Do not frown. We know how to use them."
"Aye. We know just where and how to strike to send a man down with nary a grunt." Storm held out a short, straight, double-edged dagger. "A skain. A good old Irish weapon. 'Twas my mother's. I know well how to use this too. Papa showed me. Just as good, I can make a man believe I will use it. Do not worry for us."
"I begin not to. Go then, lass, and take care. I will ensure that our watch doesnae cut ye down when ye return. What are ye doing now?" he asked as they smeared soot on their faces.
"Ensuring that our wee pale faces do not give us away." Storm opened the hatch to the tunnel.
"Who told ye o' this?" He watched as Phelan lit a covered lantern.
He caught her hand as she started to follow Phelan into the tunnel. Already he was suffering doubts about the wisdom of the venture. Pushing them aside, he gave her a hearty kiss, grinning when she blushed.
" 'Twas for luck, lass. I will close the trap and leave it unlocked. Go on with ye."
An instant after he had shut the trap, Sholto heard someone approach. Startled, he looked up at Iain. With a sinking feeling, Sholto had a good idea that Iain knew all that had gone on.
"An anyone can do it, she and that lad can, an only through sheer pigheadedness. Why did ye stop?"
Sholto flushed a little, knowing what Iain referred to. "Three little words."
"Which were?"
" 'I love Tavis.' I kenned then that it wasnae right. She would have been shamed and hurt, and I didnae want that but, God's tears, I did, do want her."
Iain gripped his shoulder in understanding. "Aye. I have felt it too."
"Weel, let us be back to our posts."
Sholto stood up. "I will ne'er sleep a wink 'til they are back."
* * * * *
Storm shuddered as they made their way through the dark, cramped tunnel. It was damp and musty, and cloaked in cobwebs. She was glad the light was too weak to show her all that scurried about.
They emerged just inside the wood on the south side of Caraidland. The entrance to the tunnel was cleverly concealed, yet Storm had no worry about finding it again. She and Phelan began to circle their way toward Tavis.
Within clear hearing distance of the camp, they met their first stumbling block. A one-man watch had been set out, and, although leisurely in his patrol, he was alert. He was also too awkwardly placed to knock out. Nodding to Phelan and hoping he would catch on, Storm shed her cap and stepped boldly forward.
The guard gaped at the apparition before him. Despite the dirty face and male attire, he knew a pretty wench when he saw one. New to work at Hagaleah, he did not know Lord Eldon's daughter when he saw her. Holding his sword at the ready, he edged toward her.
"Who be ye?"
"No one of importance. I seek to avoid the battle."
"Discard all yer weapons."
"I have none. Shall I prove it to you?"
With enticing deliberation, she began to unlace her tunic, then her breeches, calmly watching his lust blind his good judgment. Both items fell open to reveal glowing skin, but she knew she must do more. Swallowing her shame, she slowly bared her breasts. A guttural cry escaped the guard as he dropped his sword and lunged. Storm hit the ground with a breath-robbing thud, but an instant later she was free of the weight. Phelan had understood, knocked the guard out and pulled him off of her.
Tucking her hair back inside her cap, Storm watched Phelan finish tying and gagging the man. "I hope he is the only one."
"Aye." Phelan collected his club. "Let us be on our way to Tavis."
"I only pray that we are in time."
Chapter Nineteen
Rescue was something that Tavis found himself fervently praying for. He had not expected any sort of risky sortie, but now he wished for one. Briefly he had wished that the trade had been made, but only briefly, for nothing would induce him to put Storm into the hands of the man who stood before him, not even the bone-chilling terror of the threat Hugh now made.
Still reeling from a flogging, his arms still strapped to the posts, he had glared at Sir Hugh as the man had stepped in front of him. He had thought he would be cut down, if only to be allowed to rest so that he would be strong enough to survive another beating. All his muscles had contracted when the knife Sir Hugh held had nudged his groin. Now a cold sweat came out on his skin, stinging his wounds, but he struggled to give no sign of his very real terror as he continued to glare at a sweetly smiling Sir Hugh.
" 'Tis surely a crime for a lowly border Scot to possess such as Storm Eldon," Hugh mused aloud. "Do you know the quality of the blood in the lady's veins?"
"Nay. It wasnae that I was interested in." Tavis winced inwardly as the knife pressed against him.
"This arrogant fellow has been delving in and out of some of the best stock in all of England."
"And weel he has enjoyed it." This time Sir Hugh drew a little blood, and Tavis swallowed his terror.
"So should have. The young Eldons trace their lineage back to the Conqueror, to Saxon and Irish kings. 'Tis far too rich a mixture for a Scot to be enjoying. What, by sweet heaven, are you doing here, Mary?" he growled when that lady stepped up to his side.
Tavis studied the infamous Lady Mary Eldon and saw nothing that he liked. She was beautiful, with a body any man would want, but her eyes revealed her soul, and that was pure filth. He watched her relieve Sir Hugh of his knife and begin to cut him down. Her nearness only sickened him, but he hid it well. He felt certain she could prove as great, if not greater, a danger to him than Sir Hugh if she was angered.
"Your little games can wait awhile." As two guards quickly bound Tavis's free hands, she purred, "I have need of you now. Let him sweat over his fate for a while."
As Tavis was led to the edge of the camp, he heard Hugh growl, "You do not fool me. I know why you wish his punishment delayed. Have you ne'er had a Scot before?"
Leading him to the tent, Mary replied, "Nay, but I surely intend to ere dawn comes."
From where he was set, Tavis had a clear view inside the tent. The entrance was turned away from the rest of the camp, with one flap turned up to allow for fresh air. He had the feeling they were in dire need of that. There were nearly a dozen people inside, twice as many men as women, and few of them were dressed. The unintentional voyeurism brought him an initial surge of desire as he watched a brown-skinned woman shed her robe, kneel before a young, nearly beautiful man sprawled upon some cushions and begin to leisurely pleasure him with her mouth. That waned as the pair became a trio, then a quartet, until there was a veritable tangle of naked bodies.
"Aye, it soon loses its attraction," the guard at his side grumbled, and Tavis nodded.
It was awhile before Lady Mary, wearing a revealing robe, strolled over to Tavis. She knelt before him, her eyes greedy. Here was a man, and it enraged her that Storm had such a lover. Lady Mary fully intended to sample his skill and virility before Sir Hugh ended it. Her tongue ran over her lips, revealing her hunger to taste such lean, muscular perfection. She was unaware of the eyes that watched her from the enshadowed wood, unaware of how close she came to dying had not Phelan restrained Storm.
Placing her hand upon his manhood, she purred, "The gentleman is at rest for the moment."
"It only salutes a lady," Tavis said coldly, flinching when her caressing hand brought a sharp pain.
"You should be careful, Scotsman. I could be your only chance to save this poor fellow. Come with me now and let me show you how a woman handles a man. You have tasted but a child, who could not begin to appreciate the stallion you are. Come to my tent now and let me show you true pleasure."
"I wouldst rather spill my seed into a man." Tavis could not hide his very real pain when her hand became a fist that left him doubled over and gasping.
"Fool." Mary surged to her feet, enraged by his rejection, verbal and physical, for her expert hand had brought no reaction. "You have 'til the hour before dawn to change your mind. If you still say nay, I will gladly sharpen the knife Sir Hugh will use to make you a gelding, and I will see that the cut is not quick and clean, but slow, tiny piece by tiny piece until naught remains. Think on that, border reiver."
For a while Tavis could only think of sheer agony in his loins. He rolled about doubled over for a moment, until he came to rest against a tree, his forehead pressed against the rough bark. Something caused him to open his eyes, and he briefly glimpsed amber ones. When the guard bent to offer him a drink of ale Tavis feared he was going mad. The guard's next words eased that fear.
"Lass, ye should not be this near to Sir Hugh. Ye and the lad scamper away now."
Storm peered at Matthew, edging out of the bushes and keeping to the shelter of the tree. "How did ye know, Matthew?"
"Ye and the lad be the only things human with a cat's eyes that I know of."
"What fool let ye out of Caraidland, and what in the name of God have ye got on your faces?" Tavis hissed.
"Such gratitude. 'Tis ash to hide our fair skin. We have come to get you away from here."
"Ye will have to touch me with them clubs o' yours first, lass. I can't be left awake ere he leaves."
"I feared that." She began to cut the ropes binding Tavis's wrists, Matthew's bulk shielding her actions.
"I was sore grieved to hear o' the fates o' your kin and the Fosters."
Despite her efforts, a lone tear streaked a trail down Storm's begrimed cheek. "Thank ye, Matthew. There, Tavis."
Rubbing the numbness from his wrists as subtly as he was able, Tavis said, "This is madness, little one. 'Twill be but one moment ere they see that I have fled. Get yourself out o' here now, love."
"Ye give me no credit for brains do ye, Tavis? I have thought this out well." She caught the wrapped bundle of rushes Phelan edged toward her. " 'Tis shadowy here. This should serve to fool them for a while. I shall place this blackened rope 'round Matthew to hold him to the tree and he will appear to still be awatch." She suited action to words with Matthew's compliance, and Tavis's eyes showed his growing admiration. "That 'tis Matthew I must deal with makes my plotting work more smoothly," she added modestly. "Forgive me, Matthew," she murmured, and dropped a kiss on his cheek before she hit him, silently sending him into blackness.
The switch of the bundle for Tavis was made quickly and neatly. But an instant later the trio were loping through the woods toward Caraidland. Thoughts of the fate awaiting him at Sir Hugh's hands gave Tavis strength despite the pain in his abused back and the soreness in his loins. He flicked a glance at the trussed-up guard as they passed him, and he shook his head. The little pair was a wonder.
A heavy covering on the floor of the wood allowed them to leave no discernible trail, and they were glad of that when sounds of pursuit reached their ears. If luck was with them, they could reach and be in the tunnel before they were spotted. Tavis did not ask them how they knew of the tunnel as they dove for its haven, shutting and bolting the hatch after them. All he could think of was that he was free, free and whole.
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