His Bonnie Bride

by Hannah Howell

  * * * * *

  Colin fixed a stern eye upon the group gathered at the table set in one of the few empty spots left in the great hall. He had had no idea of what was afoot until an uproar broke out in Sir Hugh's camp. Iain and Sholto had fled for the stables while all the guards on the south walls had readied themselves as if for an attack. Though he rejoiced with the rest over the clever, successful rescue of his heir and had been made aware of the horror Sir Hugh had planned for Tavis, Colin felt he ought to make some stand against such disobedience.

  "I ken I said there wouldnae be any attempt made," he growled, glaring at them all.

  "But, me' lord ye gave Phelan and me no such command."

  He stared into two pairs of wide, guileless eyes and two surprisingly innocent, if begrimed, faces and burst out laughing. The rest soon joined in. To Storm's intense embarrassment, she found herself the center of attention. Even worse, Phelan began to blithely recite the full tale of how they had managed to silence the watch.

  Sholto eased that some by relating an absurd plan to use the same ploy on the whole of Sir Hugh's army when they began the attack anew at dawn. She soon forgot most of her embarrassment in all the laughter at his nonsense.

  Tavis awoke to the fact that time was swiftly passing by. All too soon he would be back upon the walls to fight Sir Hugh. Their numbers were so few, it was doubtful they could hold out all that long. He knew just how he wished to spend the remaining time before dawn. His back still burned, but that seemed to have no effect on the desire for Storm that suddenly surged through him. Grabbing her by the hand, he excused them from the table and hurried her off to their chambers.

  Sholto sighed as he watched Storm's slim hips sway gently out of the hall, her long, thick hair keeping rhythm as she walked alongside Tavis. He had stopped himself from making love to her, but he had not stopped wanting to. An excess of guilt over what he had done and still wanted to do plagued him. A grinning Iain refilled his tankard. Laughing ruefully, Sholto did his best to empty it.

  Lying on his side, wearing only his braes, Tavis watched Storm wash up. She had risked all to come and save him. He suddenly craved knowing why, exactly what she felt for him. Neither cursing himself for a maudlin fool nor reminding himself that he had little to give in return did much to fully kill that craving.

  "Storm?" he called softly.

  "Aye, Tavis?" She padded over to stand by the bed, looking down at him.

  " 'Tis an awful risk ye took coming after me as ye did." He reached out to play with a lock of her hair.

  "I could not leave ye in Sir Hugh's hands. I understood his parting threat, ye see."

  "I'm nay ashamed to admit I was in a cold sweat for a time there. Got a good keek at how they carry on. 'Tis a wonder ye came away from that unsullied."

  "Am I unsullied, Tavis?" she asked softly.

  "Aye, little one. It doesnae matter what I have done, that I have had my pleasure of ye."

  " 'Twas my pleasure, too, Tavis," she murmured as she reached out and gently touched his chest.

  "Shed your clothes, m'eudail," he ordered softly in a voice already thickening. "Nay, dinnae blush so. Put aside your modesty for what little is left of this night.

  It could be my last," he said, mostly to himself.

  Storm fell to her knees and placed trembling fingers over his mouth. "Do not speak so, Tavis."

  He watched as her eyes overflowed with tears, and reached out a finger to brush one from her cheek. "And would ye grieve for me then, lass?"

  "Aye, Tavis. Sorely."

  Wondering why that should make it easier to face the dawn, he gently kissed her. "Undress for me, Storm. Stand boldly before me just this once."

  Slowly, she got to her feet, jesting nervously, "I may be standing, but 'twill nay be too boldly."

  Tavis smiled, knowing how hard she had to fight her innate modesty to fulfill his request and inordinately pleased that she would do so for him. His pleasure changed direction as she shed her clothes. Fire and candlelight glowed over her skin, and he thought her glorious. When she at last stood naked before him his gaze moved hungrily over her full, high breasts, tiny waist and slim hips, lingering on all his most favorite places. Reaching out, he took the same survey with his hand.

  "Sweet heaven, lass, but ye are bonnie.

  'Tis nay wonder that man went wild ere ye showed him these." He cupped each breast in turn, his gaze locked with hers. "They fit in a man's hands so perfectly, the tips rising quickly, begging to be tasted, rolled about on my tongue. Skin like silk," he said as his hand continued its journey down her body. "It caresses a man. Hips but gently rounded, and such slim thighs, but they cradle a man so weel, drive him mad. But this is heaven's gate, these silken, copper curls hide a haven a man would kill for. Undress me, little one, and take me into your warmth."

  His hands, eyes and husky words were all caresses stirring her past caring about her nakedness. Her hands shook as she unlaced his braes. The continued movement of his hand over her body made her fear she would soon buckle at the knees. When he was as naked as she he pulled her down onto the bed. She had just begun to wonder how they would manage when he cocked her leg around his waist and eased into her, his mouth possessing hers hungrily as they became joined.

  They rode to the height slowly and deliciously. It was a ride they took again and again, until sleep stole their need for each other. Tavis lay sprawled across her, his head nestled upon her breasts. One of Storm's slim legs was bent at the knee and resting against his hip. Her arms held him close even in sleep as her cheek rested upon his hair. Tavis's body was her only covering.

  Getting no answer to their knock, Iain and Sholto stepped quietly into the room. They both stared at the couple upon the bed, each wishing it was he in such a soft haven. For them the time past had been spent curled up with a plaid. There was no sweet, loving woman to ease the wait for dawn.

  "Ye would think his backside would freeze," Sholto whispered as he slowly approached the bed.

  Iain chuckled softly. "Mayhaps he overheated it."

  Opening one eye, Tavis looked at his brothers. "Humor at this hour is near to sacrilege." He grimaced when Storm murmured his name in her sleep, her small foot briefly caressing his calf and one small hand sliding down to rest at the base of his spine. "If ye twa fools will turn around a moment, I will rise."

  "I suspicion ye already have," Sholto murmured as they turned, and Iain laughed.

  Tavis grunted at the truth of that as he carefully extracted himself from Storm's embrace. The way she only turned upon her side, still asleep despite the disturbance, showed how exhausted she was. Even if he had the time, he did not think he had the heart to wake her up just to satisfy his lust again.

  "Ye can turn round again," he told his brothers as he picked up his breeches.

  "Dinnae ken why I bothered, an all I get to see is ye." Sholto's eyes danced at the plain evidence of Tavis's desire for his sleeping lady. "Greedy man, arenae ye." He laughed off Tavis's disgusted look.

  "Aye." Tavis reached out and gently caressed Storm's tangled hair before he abruptly headed out the door. "Any sign that the enemy prepares a new attack?" he asked as they went down the stairs.

  "The sound of their preparations echo clearly in the still dawn," Iain replied.

  "Curse it. We are so few. Weel, luck may be with us and help will arrive in time," Tavis said, expressing the hope of every soul still alive within the walls of Caraidland.

  * * * * *

  Lord Eldon scowled into the darkness in the direction of the besieged Caraidland.

  He had not liked sending young Hadden out to reconnoiter, but there had been no better choice for the job. Whether by skill or sheer luck, Hadden had the ability to come within spitting distance of the enemy, watch and leave unseen. Lord Eldon was more worried about what sort of news the young man would bring back. When his nephew finally rode into camp Lord Eldon nearly yanked him from the saddle in his eagerness to hear the news. Whether it was good or bad, he
needed to know, and know immediately.

  "How goes it at Caraidland?" he asked his nephew as they sat around a campfire sipping mulled cider.

  "They are putting up a gallant fight considering they are only at half their strength. I would prefer not to admire the MacLagans, but I can do naught else at this time. Hugh makes no rushes, no attempt to storm the keep. 'Tis a slow picking off of the Scots he is working for."

  "Do you think he is succeeding in that strategy?" asked Lord Foster.

  "Aye, there were women upon the battlements taking the night watch."

  "Which means MacLagan has no men to replace the holes made, none to take the place of the weary so that they might rest.

  All his force is upon the walls." Eldon shook his head. "Without men they could have to fall back to the keep itself, lose the outer bailey."

  Hadden nodded. "Spread too thin and the wall could be scaled. Hugh may try just that on the morrow." He took a long drink before announcing, "I saw Storm."

  "Upon the walls?" asked Eldon, not truly surprised. "They have not given her o'er to Hugh?"

  "Nay, and I think you need not worry that they will. While I watched, Hugh approached to parlay. Seems an attempt was made to go for aid, but the man was caught. Hugh wished to trade the man for Storm."

  Eldon's brows quirked high upon his forehead. "MacLagan refused the trade?"

  "Aye. Hugh was rather taken aback for, you see, his prisoner was MacLagan's heir, Tavis MacLagan himself."

  Among Hadden's audience only Lord Eldon did not gape, though it was hard for him not to. "That lad said they were fond of her, but this goes beyond all hope. Mayhaps that explains her place upon the walls."

  " 'Tis possible for they put her forward to make plain to Hugh that she cared little for the fate of her—" Hadden stopped abruptly as he realized what he was about to say to Eldon.

  "Lover," Eldon completed, the word hissed from between tightly clenched teeth. "I am aware of the place my daughter holds at Caraidland. How did this Tavis take to the refusal of the ransom?"

  " 'Twas plain he approved fully of his father's refusal. Raised his bound hands in agreement. Hugh had the man on a leash. Storm sent Hugh into a rage with her refusal to come out in exchange."

  "Convinced him she was not concerned o'er Tavis MacLagan's fate, did she?"

  "Aye, Andrew." Hadden grinned. "She did look glorious, straddling the parapet with her hair down and blowing free. Tavis scolded her for wearing no stockings and she said she hoped to put Hugh's troops to riot." He was relieved to see that even Eldon laughed. "Hugh said he would see her crawl and she said, 'Only away from ye.' "

  "How did she convince Hugh that she cared not what fate Tavis MacLagan met?" Eldon asked.

  Hadden was reluctant to tell just how; however, his uncle's gaze pressed him to. "She convinced him she had a replacement already. Kissed one of the other sons afore all, with the Scots cheering her on. Sent Sir Hugh into a near blind rage, it did. Stormed off to his camp and Lady Mary."

  "Did you see aught of my dear wife?" Eldon turned his frustrated rage upon the one he saw as the cause of all his daughter's troubles.

  "Aye. She had set up a large tent and, well ..." Hadden shrugged and blushed.

  "Is whoring away the hours," Eldon said succinctly. "There is no need to mince words, lad. What of their men?"

  "It was hard to see. Sir Hugh has a sizable force. It seems Lady Mary has bought herself one as well. I recognized some of your old guard. A quarter, mayhaps a third, could come o'er to us. You are their liege lord still, and I cannot believe all of them enjoy what has replaced you for a time."

  "Let us hope 'tis a third, for we are few. Get some rest, lad. You did well."

  As the younger men rose, Andrew paused to ask, "About Storm? Have ye thought on her and Tavis MacLagan?"

  "Little else, son. Hadden's news shows that they protect her from Sir Hugh, who would do far more than dishonor her. What is her virtue compared to her life? Was she not left without protectors? A ransom refused makes all the rules of hostage-holding invalid. I have decided to go by what she says or does."

  Andrew frowned in slight confusion. "Meaning?"

  "Meaning I will do naught an it is her wish. She has lived with these people many long months and a close watch upon her being all that distinguished her as a prisoner, not a clan member. An I took up sword against the MacLagans, it could hurt her more than anything they have done. If she cries for vengeance, she shall have it; otherwise, I begin to think I will take her back to Hagaleah and let it all be forgotten. By shielding her from Hugh they have granted her a life in exchange for her virtue. To me, her father who loves her, 'tis a fair enough exchange."

  "I would also rather have her alive than virginal and dead, seduced and unwed than raped and beaten in marriage. Good night, Father."

  After the others had departed Foster studied a pensive Eldon. "Do you speak what is truly in your heart and mind or simply what you wish or think should be there?"

  " 'Tis truly how I feel. I treasure her life far more than her virtue, even her honor or mine own. The feeling is bred upon the idea that she has not been abused. If she comes to me hurting, physically or in her heart, I will run a sword through the bastard."

  Chapter Twenty

  Tavis looked up from the sword he sharpened, and his eyes narrowed as he saw guilt and embarrassment reflected upon Sholto's handsome face. A vision of Sholto and Storm kissing upon the battlements filled his mind, and he suddenly grew cold. Part of him flinched from the confession he could see forming upon Sholto's lips, from the pain he knew it would bring, while another part demanded it.

  "This isnae easy for me to say, Tavis, but, seeing as a man always faces death ere he picks up a sword, I have to say it. 'Tis a guilt I maun get out o' my heart."

  "Go on." Tavis's hand clenched his sword hilt until his knuckles whitened.

  "God's beard." Sholto looked around briefly, then returned his gaze to Tavis. "I tried my fiercest to have your woman, Tavis."

  "Tried?" The chill began to leave his bones.

  "Aye. Tried. Och, she's a warm lassie, and I'm nay being vain when I say I ken how to stir a woman, but she ne'er stopped saying nay. She was right in saying I'd hate myself. I do, and I didnae e'en get what I was after. It wasnae right going after her the moment ye werenae about, but I wanted her that bad, I didnae care whose woman she was."

  Standing up, Tavis sheathed his sword as he faced Sholto. "Did her eyes grow warm?"

  "Like liquid gold."

  Clasping Sholto's shoulder, Tavis said, "If ye looked into eyes like that, I cannae see how ye pulled back."

  "It wasnae easy," came Sholto's heartfelt reply.

  A grin touched Tavis's face, and he said, "Ye could have taken her but ye didnae. 'Tis naught."

  "Would it have mattered an I had?" Sholto asked out of curiosity, knowing he had been forgiven.

  "Aye. Ye could have taken Katerine right afore my eyes and I wouldnae have cared but"—he shrugged, for he did not understand his feelings—"Storm is mine. 'Tis how I see it."

  "Yours until ye tire o' her or she returns to Hagaleah?"

  Curtly, Tavis nodded. It was not a subject he liked to dwell upon. Sholto sensed that and asked no more questions.

  They were about to mount up to the battlements when Storm dashed over to them. Tavis watched Sholto's eyes flicker with banked hunger, and his arms encircled her with a more evident possessiveness when she flung herself into them.

  "Ye tiptoed away without a word," she murmured, trying to hide the tears that threatened.

  "Ah, ye would rather I stomp," he said seriously, his eyes alive with laughter.

  "Your concept of humor eludes me," Storm said dryly, but then discarded teasing and held him tightly. "Send me to Sir Hugh, Tavis, and put an end to this. 'Tis my battle, not yours."

  Resting his chin upon the top of her head, Tavis replied, "Nay, lass. He has raised a sword against Caraidland no matter what the cause, and that makes it our fi
ght. Just as every soul here kens how 'twas ye who saved the laird's life, so do they ken what that bastard means to do with ye. 'Tis not our way to repay a life by giving up one to certain death. Ye have no kin, and Lady Mary gave ye to me. Weel, what is mine stays mine; an I maun lift sword to keep it, so I will."

  Her hands gripped his shirt at the back as she fought against speaking the words that crowded into her mouth. It was not right to send a man off to battle with tears and expressions of fears for his life. A woman must be brave, act as if she is certain that her man will return alive. She felt his hands caress her hair and forced her very real fear to recede for the moment. Out of his sight she could weep and wring her hands as much as she wanted to. She looked up at him.

  "Oh, well, there is none that can say I did not give it a try. Ye are a stubborn man, MacLagan."

  "That I am, Sassanach. So are ye. Stubborn as a summer's day is long, so I will have a promise from ye here and now. Ye'll nay go tripping out to the man. Swear to it, lass." He quirked a brow when she clamped her lips together. "I will tie ye and that tiptoeing cousin o' yours to a keg an I must. Swear that ye will stay within these walls and nay do anything foolish."

  "I swear," she muttered. "Ye play unfair. 'Tis no fun to be read so well. I had this plan ..."

  "Aye, I kenned that. Tend to the wounded, lass. 'Tis where ye are truly needed, not hurling yourself into the fray like some ancient sacrifice. Now, off with ye. There is a battle that willnae wait on me.

  When he touched his mouth to hers her hands delved into his hair, holding his mouth to hers for a kiss that held all her love for him. Finally releasing him, she pressed her cheek to his. Suddenly, it was important that he know how she felt. Pride was an insignificant thing at such a time.