by Jenna Stone
Devon growled in response and rolled me over so that I was on my hands and knees before him. He was inside me with one swift movement, the size of his pulsing manhood filling me, stretching me. He drove into me, holding my hips as he buried himself to the hilt before pulling himself out and driving in again.
I was wild with desire and met his fervor with the rhythmic motion of my hips. I felt Devon’s cock pulse and spill his seed deep within me, spasms racking through his body as a moan escaped his mouth. His release spurred my own and I felt my body shatter into a million pieces as I experienced wave after wave of intense orgasm. Devon collapsed above me and rolled onto the blanket, taking me with him. The cool night air felt wonderful against our overheated bodies, and we did not speak, but lay wrapped in each other’s arms, passing a few moments in silence, listening to our heartbeats gradually slow down.
“Are ye well?” he whispered, bringing the edge of the blanket up to cover us from the chilly night air.
“Better than well,” I assured him, smiling in the dark.
“I lost control a bit ye have a way of doing that tae me. Did I hurt ye?” he asked, concerned.
“Not a bit. I liked it, I wanted it, needed it to be that way too.”
“Well, if that’s the case and yer alright, I think I’m ready tae have another go at it,” he smiled in the firelight, face just inches from mine. “Slower, softer this time, I want tae drive ye mad with desire. I want tae enjoy ye,” he confessed.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” I said honestly as I drew him closer and began to gently rock my hips against him, spreading my knees wide so that he could settle between them. He was ready to make love again already and I felt powerful knowing that I had such an affect upon him. We made love again in the glow of the fire and the moon, taking time to pleasure each other slowly and thoroughly, delighting in the feeling of each other’s bodies.
We stayed up way too late, holding each other and basking in the glow of our lovemaking and the warmth of the crackling fire. The flames cast a magical glow on Devon’s face as I answered his questions about what life had been like before I jumped into the sea on that fateful night.
There was such freedom, such relief now that he knew my secret. I felt as though a great burden had been lifted from my shoulders, and that I could finally be myself, my true self with the man that I loved.
We fell asleep, exhausted by the day’s events and content with the trust that the disclosure of my great secret had built between us. We slept wrapped in each other’s arms underneath Devon’s worn plaid and my last thought was of my father, stalking me, tracking me and taking me from Devon.
***
We rode onward for two more days, all the while Devon asked questions about my previous life,and I answered them eagerly, relishing that I could share my past with my husband. The only thing that stopped his onslaught of questions was his desire to kiss me, and my desire to kiss him back.
In our haste to reach the Berkshire lands, we made love only one more time, in broad daylight when the needs of our bodies became more than we could bear. Devon again took me fiercely and I responded to him in kind. We both needed bodily assurance that we were alive and together, our need consumed us.
On the second day of our journey, we saw the Berkshire castle looming in the distance through the hills. Dread filled the pit of my stomach as I reconciled how I would tell this family about the tragedy that had befallen their daughter.
Devon was ever attentive and having felt my body tense as the castle came into view, he patted my thigh.
“It will be alright, lass,” he reassured me. “When this is over, we can get on with our lives. These people deserve tae ken the truth about what happened tae their daughter,” he said calmly, still stroking my leg, as he kicked the stallion into a faster pace.
“I’m just not looking forward to it, that’s all,” I confessed, feeling sick to my stomach by the prospect of coming face to face with Catherine’s family.
“Neither am I, but it’s something that we must do sae that she can be at peace,” he coaxed.
He was right, Catherine deserved this. She deserved to rest in peace. Her parents deserved to know what had happened to her. I felt an uncanny connection to the girl that I had never known her face was seared into my memory, eyes open, skin pale in death. Would I have liked her, I wondered? What would have happened had she not been killed? Would she have married Devon? Thoughts whirled through my mind.
We reached the Berkshire castle and I was aware that our presence was greeted with great wariness. Devon dismounted the horse with me still in his arms, settling me carefully to the ground. I could tell that he was on edge, scanning the crowd that had gathered upon our arrival for possible threats to our welfare.
“Take me tae Berkshire,” Devon demanded sternly to the portly man who met our horse, his hand still resting protectively on my shoulder. He could be quite intimidating when he wanted to.
“And whom may I tell him is calling?” the man inquired.
I noticed how the buttons on his shirt strained when he spoke. I looked away from the man and stood closer to Devon, getting more nervous about the task ahead of us with each passing moment.
“Devon McClain, son of Laird Ethan McClain, and my wife Kate,” Devon responded.
The portly man sized us up, eyes looking in disbelief from Devon to myself and then back to Devon again.
“Follow me,” he instructed, starting up the stairs to the stone castle. “Berkshire wasna expecting ye tae bring her all the way tae the keep. He will be caught off guard,” the man said over his shoulder as we followed him up the steps and into the castle.
We followed the man to an enormous set of double doors, where he abruptly stopped. “Wait here,” he ordered, before disappearing between the doors and closing them heavily behind him.
A moment later, the great doors opened and I knew right away that the couple standing before us was Catherine’s parents. They were older than I expected, both having gray hair and showing signs of their age. Her mother was slender and pale, gray hair knotted in a bun at the base of her neck. Her frame was slight and her brown eyes were immediately downcast when she saw me standing next to Devon.
She knew. She knew already that he daughter was dead.
Berkshire was also a small man, withered from age, but regal in his stature. He was completely bald on the top of his head with a circling of gray hair around his skull that reminded me of my Grandfather. His blue eyes were topped with bushy gray eyebrows that were knitted together in disappointment when his gaze settled on me.
“Follow me,” Berkshire said, omitting a cordial greeting, turning on his heel and walking further into the castle. He made a swift left turn and beckoned us into a small library, closing the door when we were all inside. “Sit,” he said simply, outstretching a hand, motioning towards the leather upholstered settee in from of a shelf brimming with books.
Berkshire and his wife remained standing. She had taken to clinging to his arm for support. I could tell that her façade of strength was fading quickly.
“Where is my daughter?” Berkshire asked, voice stern, catching audibly on the word daughter. He knew the answer to his question already.
“She’s dead,” Devon said quietly, confirming Berkshire’s suspicion.
Mrs. Berkshire, in took a swift breath and fell to her knees.
“No!” she screamed, crumpling to the floor.
Berkshire bent down towards his wife, carefully pulling her to her feet, holding her against his chest as she wept openly, sobs racking her small frame. I turned away as he whispered into her ear, consoling her.
“Douglas!” he called loudly, still holding his wife to his body.
The door opened behind us and in walked a large man. He strode over to Mrs. Berkshire and peeled her gently away from her husband. Arm encircling her as he held onto her, supporting her, he moved slowly from the room, taking the sobbing mother to grieve her daughter in peace. T
he door closed quietly again, but the sound of her muffled sobs broke my heart.
Berkshire cleared his throat and turned away from us for a moment, collecting himself. I could tell that he was trying to be stoic, but from the perceptible change in his breathing, I knew that the confirmation of his daughter’s death was a weighted blow. He cleared his throat again and turned around to continue his quest for answers.
“When?” he asked, needing to know the details of his daughter’s death to set him towards peace.
“She never made it to Castle McClain. Her coach was attacked just beyond our borders,” Devon said, sympathy wringing in his voice. “Her guard fought mightily, but was overtaken by the attackers. We found out later that it was the Camerons who attacked her. They have paid for their mistake dearly,” he said, disdain for the Camerons heavy in his tone.
“I’ll trust that they have. Ye have a reputation for ruthlessness when yer Clan has been done wrong. Another reason why I had thought she would be safe in the care of yer Clan.”
Berkshire’s words were a complement with a double edged barb.
“I ken that words doona mean much given yer loss, but for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that we failed ye, failed yer daughter,” Devon said, looking up at Berkshire with solemn eyes. “We should have sent a party here to get her, escorting her safely to our lands,” he said.
“I would have insisted upon it had I known that there was any risk posed to Cate,” Berkshire said, regret visible on his aged face. He shook his head slightly from side to side, pain of his daughter’s loss fresh on his features. “Sae, this brings me to my next question. Who is this imposter, posing as my daughter?” Berkshire shifted his gaze to me, the tone of his voice swiftly changing from regret into controlled rage.
“She is my wife,” Devon said coolly, testosterone pumping through his veins as he suddenly came on edge by the threat in Berkshire’s voice.
“Let’s not play that game, McClain. She signed my daughter’s name on your marriage certificate,” he seethed, no longer the kindly restrained man that he had been only moments ago. “She didna even spell Cate’s name right!” he bellowed, eyes wild, threatening as he glared down at me.
I felt more nervous than ever. I could feel my heard beat increasing and feel the perspiration beginning to make my palms sweaty as I wrung my hands together. Berkshire had every right to be mad and I was guilty of falsely claiming to be his daughter. My guilt settled uncomfortably in the pit of my stomach, its weight felt like a ton of bricks.
Devon said nothing, but I felt his arm tighten protectively around my shoulders. He allowed Berkshire to continue by remaining silent.
“Had she not been such a terrible fake, what with spelling Cate’s name wrong and looking nothing like my daughter, I might have sent the dowry money.” He ranted, eyes still burning on my skin. “At least her stupidity made her traitorous ways known so that I could expose her lies!” he exclaimed, face growing redder by the minute.
“Enough, Berkshire!” Devon exclaimed with equal fervor. “I willna have ye insulting my wife!” he bellowed back at the old man. “I came here to make ye understand, tae let ye ken the whole truth. Are ye ready tae let me explain?” It was more of a demand than a question.
Devon’s steely gaze held Berkshire’s, demanding through his body language that the man settle down.
Berkshire walked towards the desk across the room and took a drink of water from a cup sitting on the desk. Pulling himself together, he ran a hand over his mostly bald head in an effort to straighten what few hairs he retained. He walked back towards us and moved a wooden chair so that he could sit facing us.
Devon took this as his invitation to begin. “When my men found yer daughter’s carriage, one of them heard movement out in the forest next tae the road. He went to explore what the source of the noise was, and he found her,” he said, eyes flashing over to me. She tried tae run away, fought Nathan something fierce,” Devon said proudly, having always liked my fiery side. “When Nathan finally caught her, he asked her name, and she said that it was Kate. My men assumed that because her name was Kate, she was yer daughter. We had never seen yer daughter before and we thought that by some miracle, she had survived the attack.”
Berkshire’s eyes shifted from Devon to me. “Why did ye lie about who ye were?” he said sternly.
“I didn’t lie,” my voice came out shaky, I cleared my throat. “I don’t remember who I am, but I do remember is that my name is Kate, spelled with a K. Kate, short for Katherine, spelled with a K.”
“And why should I believe ye?” he said, eyes angry.
“Because I’m telling you the truth. I’m starting to get back bits and pieces of my memory, but I don’t remember the attack on your daughter. I’m not sure if I was traveling with them, or why I was out in the forest that day,” I lied, the pang of guilt stuck in my stomach.
I knew that I hadn’t been traveling with his daughter. Devon and I had decided that pleading amnesia was the best effort towards the truth that we could give the Berkshire’s in regards to explaining my presence in the forest.
“She is not a spy,” Devon said firmly. “She is an innocent lass that got caught up in this whole mess by accident. Being that she didna remember anything, she actually thought that she was Cate Berkshire,” Devon explained. “We made the situation worse because we thought that she was yer daughter Cate, and Collin, my brother forced her to marry me after our father’s death.”
“Yer father was an honorable man, I was sorry tae hear of his untimely passing,” Berkshire said sincerely.
“Thank ye,” Devon nodded in response.
“I wouldna have offered my daugher’s hand tae him in marriage had I no thought that he was honorable,” Berkshire continued. “I have nae choice but tae hope that his honor has passed into ye his son and that ye are being truthful in this matter.”
“I assure ye that I do have my father’s honor, and that I am indeed being truthful with ye,” Devon said, holding eye contact with Berkshire. “I’m sorry for yer loss, Berkshire, but my wife had nothing tae do with it,” he assured calmly.
Berkshire nodded coolly at Devon, cleared his throat and said quietly, “Douglas will see ye out,” before he strode quickly from the room, leaving the door open.
***
We were ushered quietly to our horse, and bid farewell from Castle Berkshire unceremoniously, but with a small parcel of food to tide us over for our journey. Berkshire’s dismissal of us led me to believe that he got some peace from knowing what had happened to his daughter, but I could tell that he was not fully satisfied with my story. Having no choice but to believe me or to insight a feud with the McClains, he chose to take the high road and accept my story, even if he did not totally buy it.
“Where will we go now?” I asked relieved that our duty to the Berkshire family had been fulfilled, but unsure of what the future held for us. I had killed the Laird of Clan McClain, a crime that could not be taken lightly by the people of the clan.
“We go home,” Devon said confidently, as he spurred Stanley into motion and held me to his chest a little tighter. Clearly he was still unsure of my abilities regarding staying astride a moving horse.
“What?” I asked, taken aback by his intentions to return to his clan after I had murdered their leader. We would be killed for sure.
“I’m now the Laird of the clan. Someone will have found Collin by now, and they will be expecting me tae return. They’ll be expecting me tae take my role as leader of the clan. I’m sure that my men will ken that I was the one responsible for his death, having found out that he took ye. They will be expecting us tae return shortly and I canna let my people down.”
“They won’t kill us?” I asked, shocked by his matter-of-fact intentions.
It had not occurred to me that Devon was now Laird of Clan McClain. I knew that my mouth was hanging open in surprise and I made the effort to close it.
“Nae, they won’t kill us. People have wondered why I hadn
a killed him already. In fact, there were many in the clan who encouraged me tae do sae over the years. It was my love for Da that kept me from taking Collin out sooner.”
I was speechless. Highland customs were something that I was afraid that I would never get used to.
“Actually, I should thank ye for killing him for me. Ye saved me from a lifetime of guilt and Hail Mary’s,” Devon chuckled. “He deserved it anyhow.”
“I can’t believe you, thanking me for killing your brother!”
“Someone needed tae do the deed, and yer soul is free and clear. It was in self defense after all. Had I killed him out of spite or hatred, my soul would have been in question. Worked out better than I could ever have planned, lass.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way, I guess.”
“And since I’m Laird, that makes ye the Mistress of the clan. I plan to have ye beside me in all decisions regarding our people, and the running of the keep.”
“Of course I’ll be beside you. You’ll never get rid of me now! As far as running the keep and taking care of your people, I’m not sure how much help I will be there. I’m still trying to figure this strange world out.”
“OUR people,” Devon corrected me. “Ye will be perfect, just as ye always are. There are insights and knowledge that ye bring from yer past that will be invaluable to us. I want ye involved in everything. I need ye beside me tae help me be the Laird that my father had envisioned that I would someday become.”
I smiled softly, enjoying the feeling of belonging that Devon had so sternly insisted that I have. Our clan. We would lead the clan together, helping each other to be the best that we could possibly be.
“I love you, Laird McClain,” I whispered, turning around and kissing him soundly.
Devon reined Stanley to a halt, and tied the reins around the pommel of the saddle so that he could have both hands free for the business at hand. “I love ye too, Mistress McClain. I’ll live each day thankful that ye were sent tae me,” he vowed as he wrapped his arms around me and captured my lips in a passionate kiss.