by Pamela Clare
“The day I’m too weak to carry a wee thing like ye is the day they can put me in my grave.”
Cassie watched as the sawyer carried Elly toward her cabin, afraid he might collapse and cause them both grave harm, yet not wanting to interfere.
“Oh, I’m hopin’ for her, Miss Cassie,” said Nettie, who’d come up behind her. “I’m hopin’.”
“So am I, Nettie. So am I. I suppose I should make sure she’s not bleeding.”
“Let me.”
Cassie was silent for a moment. She didn’t want to pry. “I’m glad she has a friend in you, Nettie.”
Nettie met her gaze. “Our sons will be brothers.”
“Brothers?”
But Nettie was gone, following Zach to the servant quarters. For the second time in as many minutes, Cassie realized she was standing with her mouth agape.
Frustrated to be left in the dark, she went back to shelling peas, first picking up those she had spilled on the ground. Her gaze drifted to the stables, where Alec, with Jamie’s help, was settling Aldebaran with some oats. It was the second time this week he’d traveled to Corotoman with the stallion. He’d traded a foal by Aldebaran for the pouch of quinquina and was making good on his word. Master Carter had been more than eager to take advantage of what he presumed was her father’s sudden change of will and had produced not one, but four mares in season he deemed worthy to take the stallion’s seed, offering good coin in exchange for the three extra foals.
At first Cassie had been furious with Alec when he’d told her of the arrangement. Her father had refused to breed the stallion, sure such strenuous activity would rob the horse of its speed and stamina. Alec had dismissed this as ridiculous, but Cassie wanted to follow her father’s wishes in as many matters as she could. Of course, she hadn’t been able to stay angry for long. Alec had risked his life and put his own future aside to save Jamie. Had he been spied riding through the forest by someone who recognized him, he might have been beaten, even killed.
Cassie was happy that he would be staying a bit longer. But it was only a temporary reprieve, and she tried to temper her joy. When he finally rode out, her grief would be as fierce as it had been before, tearing her from the inside out. But she’d not think of that just now. Not today.
Alec had slept in her bed every night since Jamie’s recovery, though he’d refused to join his body with hers, instead pleasuring her with his hands and mouth in unimagined ways, driving her wild. It was to spare her the shame of bastardy should anything happen to him, he’d told her. Though she knew she should appreciate his thoughtfulness, she longed for the feel of him inside her. Besides, his precaution was likely too late.
Her monthly flow, which should have come and gone by now, had not yet begun, and her breasts had grown tender and heavy. It was still too early to be certain. She’d been late once or twice before, the first time following a bout of fever, the second her mother’s death. She would wait and hope—and tell no one.
She’d finished shelling peas and begun helping Nan scrub potatoes—sharing what Nettie had revealed and gossiping in a rather unbecoming fashion about who might have fathered both little Daniel and Elly’s baby—when she heard Jamie’s giggles ringing like tiny bells through the courtyard. Alec was giving him a ride on his shoulders.
“Cassie, look!” Jamie called, his cheeks a healthy pink. He reached down and covered Alec’s eyes with pudgy palms.
“I cannae see!” Alec wailed dramatically in a Scottish brogue.
Jamie squealed with delight as Alec stumbled forward, pretending to trip and drop him, spilling him over his head and landing him safely on his feet.
“That was a fine trick.” Cassie’s gaze locked with Alec’s in a moment of shared joy at the child’s happiness.
His smile warmed her like sunshine.
“Cole let me feed Debaron.”
“He did?”
Jamie nodded, curls bouncing. “He said Andromeda is in season and Debaron wants to mate with her.”
“He did?” Cassie glared at Alec.
He avoided meeting her gaze, a suppressed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Aye, and he said I could have the foal.”
“Did he now?”
“Traitor,” Alec whispered in the boy’s ear.
“Jamie, wash up for supper. As for you, sir,” she whispered to Alec, “I’ve a thing or two to say to you. Nan, could you please keep the little one occupied?”
“Aye, Missy.” Nan’s eyes glittered with laughter that only irritated Cassie further.
“What do you mean sharing such things with a four-year-old child?” Cassie scolded as soon as they were out of earshot of the kitchen. “And don’t you think you should ask me before you promise him a foal of his own by my mare?”
“It couldn’t be helped.”
“Couldn’t be helped? Just what does that mean?”
“Come and see.” He took her by the arm.
“I don’t need to see anything. I am waiting for an answer.”
He smiled but did not release her, pulling her along beside him.
“Alec! Ooh, you are bullheaded!”
“Hush, woman.”
The stable was warm, the rays of the late afternoon sun spilling through the doorway, filling the stalls with light the color of honey. Aldebaran snorted in greeting. From several stalls down came Andromeda’s familiar nicker.
“We’re here. What would you have me see? Horses? I’ve seen horses.”
“Patience, witch.” Alec kissed her on the nose as he walked past her toward Aldebaran’s stall.
Cassie felt her anger fade. She knew she should be vexed with him, but he was too charming, too handsome, and she loved him far too much to be irate for long. If anyone was a witch it was he, for surely he had put her under a spell.
Removing the oat bag from Aldebaran’s neck, he led the stallion into the feed yard, then returned for the mare.
“Oh, no, you don’t! I’ve not given you leave to … Alec!”
He ignored her.
Cassie rushed to bar his way, pressing her back up against the gate to Andromeda’s stall, the mare’s velvety muzzle warm on her ear.
Alec stopped before her, his hands resting casually on his hips, a jaunty grin on his face. “Do you mean to block my way, woman?”
“Aye! The mare is mine, and you’ll not breed her without my permission.”
Alec nodded, then reached out to brush a stray curl from her face, his thumb tracing a line across her lower lip, his gaze fixing on her mouth. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”
His lips took possession of hers, and Cassie’s mind went blank as his arms pulled her close. His tongue probed her mouth, and she was only dimly aware he had lifted her off the ground and was carrying her toward the workbench. No sooner had he lowered her to the ground than he released her with a slap on her bottom and strode quickly over to the mare’s stall.
“What … ? Oh! Do you think you can fool me with so simple a trick?”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Cassie gave an exasperated sigh and followed him as he led the mare out the broad doors and into the feed yard.
“Now watch.” He released the mare.
The stallion’s response was immediate. He snorted and whinnied a greeting to the mare, his enormous phallus dropping from its sheath.
“That’s what Jamie saw. The boy demanded answers. What would you have me tell him?”
Cassie shifted uncomfortably, a blush creeping into her cheeks.
“I … Well, that is to say … ”
The first time she’d seen such a sight, she’d run screaming for her father. It had happened shortly after she’d watched the men slaughter a pig and remove its entrails, and she’d feared that the horse’s innards had begun to fall from its belly. Her father had laughed and explained that was the way a stallion greeted a mare. When she’d learned the truth, she’d been mortified. Perhaps telling Jamie the truth now wasn’t so bad
after all.
“Yes, love?” Alec’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement.
“Nothing.”
Andromeda tossed her mane and trotted to the other side of the corral.
“It seems she’s not interested,” Cassie said triumphantly.
“I’d not be too hasty, if I were you. Females are often like that, cold one minute, hot the next.”
“And isn’t it just like a male to make ardent love to one during the morning and another in the afternoon?”
“Aye, Aldebaran has had a busy day, hasn’t he?”
The stallion, undeterred by the mare’s shyness, followed, whinnying softly and rubbing the velvet of his muzzle against hers. The mare lifted her tail for a moment, giving proof she was ready to mate.
“What did I say? Just like a female. Cold one minute, hot the next.”
“We must stop this.” Cassie walked toward the gate.
Alec put his arm around her waist to restrain her, clearly pleased with himself.
“Have you ever seen two horses more suited for each other? Andromeda fits Aldebaran as if she were made for him. When your father bought them, he knew exactly what he was doing.”
Cassie shook her head. “He never thought to mate them.”
“That’s a pity, for the two of them have thought about it for a very long time, I’d wager. Can you imagine being ever near the one you desire, but not being allowed to touch like this?” He kissed her hand. “Or this?” He pressed his lips to her hair, one hand passing lightly over her breast, so lightly Cassie thought she might have imagined it.
Frissons of pleasure shot through her, but Cassie pulled away. This was risky. They could not be seen like this. “They are only horses. I doubt they think much at all. Mating is just instinct for them.”
“As it is between men and women.” The huskiness of his voice caused Cassie’s heart to skip a beat.
“What I mean is that horses derive no higher pleasure from … joining.” Cassie felt heat flood her face. “It is but a physical act meant to create offspring.”
“Certain of that, are you?”
Andromeda trotted forward, rubbed against the stallion’s gleaming chestnut flank as she passed, then made room for him behind her. The stallion snorted loudly, tossing his head, his muscular body rippling with tension. He sniffed at the mare’s tail, then reared to mount.
“Will he hurt her?”
“Nay, love. Remember, she’s a horse, too, and built to take him.”
“Of course she’s a horse!” Cassie saw the horses’ bodies join, then looked away.
Images flashed through her mind, making her blood run hot: images of Alec making love to her, mounting her in a like fashion. She grew mortified that this common barnyard event should spark such carnal thoughts. Then she felt Alec behind her, one hand caressing her hip through the cotton of her gown as the other came to rest casually on the fence beside hers. His breathing was thick and heavy.
“You realize you’re in trouble, don’t you?” she whispered, overwhelmed by her need for him.
“In trouble?”
“Aye. You bred my mare against my wishes, convict, and you shall have to be punished for your insolence.”
“And who shall carry out this punishment?”
“I shall. Come to my room tonight, and you’ll see what I do to servants who defy me.”
“Aye, Mistress.”
* * *
Cassie stifled a giggle at the thought of what she was about to do. When she’d told Alec she would punish him for defying her, she’d been jesting. Then an idea had begun to form in her mind—a startling, irresistible idea. Over the course of the evening, the idea had become a plan. She’d decided at least a dozen times not to go through with it. It was, she knew, not the sort of thing young ladies from good families did with men—even after they were married. It was positively indecent, which made it all the more enticing. In the end, curiosity—and the desire to give Alec the surprise of his life—had won out over propriety, and she had decided to stick with her plan.
She glanced nervously into her mirror and smiled conspiratorially at her reflection. Her hair was twisted stylishly upon her head, a few curls tumbling down her temples and at her nape. Her cheeks and lips were touched with rouge, her eyes lined with color. She wore the same ivory silk-and-lace gown she’d worn to Geoffrey’s birthday party—the one she’d worn when she’d first called Alec by his real name. She looked ready for a ball—except, of course, there was nothing beneath the gown. Nothing.
She smoothed her skirts and looked around the room one last time. He’d arrive any minute. The candles on her bedside table cast a warm glow over the room. The covers of her bed were already turned down. In the middle of the bed lay the only pair of shackles she’d been able to find on the plantation. Though old and unused for years, they still worked. The key hung on a silken cord between her breasts.
The creaking of footfalls on the stairs told her he had come. She smoothed her skirts nervously, her heart pounding. Could she really do this? She felt herself start to smile, but forced it away. A quiet knock came at the door. The handle turned. Alec stepped in and turned to close the door. He looked so handsome, dressed in a clean linen shirt and breeches. She had to fight the urge to rush forward and fall into his arms.
“Cassie, love, I … ” He turned toward her, staring. “You look beauti—”
“You’re on time, convict.” It took every ounce of determination she had not to smile or giggle. “That’s good. It will go easier on you.”
Cassie could see in his eyes the moment he understood her game. His look of confusion was replaced by surprise and then amusement before his gaze grew cold and hard. “I’m to be punished, then?”
“I can no longer tolerate your insolence, convict. I mean to teach you a lesson.” It was good she had rehearsed her lines. It would have been impossible to say them else. Was she really going through with this?
He leaned against her bedpost nonchalantly, crossing his arms. Defiant and confident, he reminded her so much of the man he’d been when she’d first purchased his indenture. “And what makes you think I’ll cooperate, Mistress, when I could just as easily break your pretty neck?”
“You’ll find what I have in mind far more pleasant than what you’ll receive if you disobey.”
“I see.” His gaze raked over her body in blatant sexual appraisal, and she shivered in anticipation. “And just what do you have in mind?”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“Undress—slowly.”
He raised an eyebrow, then untied his shirt and slowly pulled it over his head. It fell, forgotten, at his feet. Candlelight cast the bronzed muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen in glorious high relief. He reached for the opening of his breeches and began to untie them, his muscles shifting beneath sun-bronzed skin.
Cassie felt desire flow like warm brandy through her veins. “Slowly, convict.”
His gaze locked with hers again as ever so slowly he pulled on the ties, undid his breeches, and let them drop to the floor. He was rock hard, his sex thick and heavy.
She found she could scarcely breathe. “Your hair. Remove the thong.”
Not breaking eye contact, he reached back with one hand, and his dark hair slid free, falling just below his shoulders. He looked untamed, fiercely male, and, with his lash scars, not a little dangerous. He stepped toward her.
She stepped back and pointed to the bed. “Stop! The shackles. Lock one end around your right wrist, then pass the chain behind the bedpost, lie down, and lock the other end around your left wrist.”
He looked at the bed and saw the shackles. She heard his quick intake of breath and saw a shadow pass over his face. Then it was gone.
“Don’t you trust me, fair mistress?” His voice was dark as sin and soft as velvet. His eyes held the allure of every man who’d ever tried to beguile a woman into a false sense of sexual safety.
“Never.” She smiled and spoke in a rich, seductive voice she d
idn’t know she had. “But I will have your complete cooperation.”
“I see.” Naked, he walked to the bed, picked up the shackles, and closed one end around his right wrist. It locked with a click. He sat and moved backward across the bed, then reached behind his head and passed the chain behind one of the bedposts. “What makes you think these chains will protect you?”
“Do it, convict.”
He lay down, then reached back to cuff his left wrist. Click. He lay diagonally across the bed, completely vulnerable. His arms were stretched over his head. His chest rose and fell with each breath. His rigid sex stood defiantly against his abdomen. His legs, spread slightly, stretched the length of the bed, his feet hanging just over the edge. A tremor passed from Cassie’s belly to her sex.
His gaze, cold and menacing, bored through her. “Do you like what you see?”
“Aye, convict. And it’s good for you that I do.” Almost trembling with excitement, she loosened her bodice until her breasts were visible. Then she moved to the bed and began to caress him, first his feet, then his ankles and calves. Where her hands touched, her lips and tongue soon followed. She heard his breath quicken, felt his muscles tense, and reveled in his response. She worked her way up his muscular legs and over his powerful thighs, but, although she touched the sac that carried his seed, she did not touch his shaft. “You’ve a remarkable cock, convict.”
He groaned in frustration. The chains caught on the bedpost, clinking as he strained against them. “Is this to be my punishment then? To be tortured with kisses, soft hands and words?”
Some part of her she’d never known awoke within her, and she felt herself grow more daring. Like a cat toying with its prey, she stretched across the bed beside him. She ran her fingers teasingly on his abdomen, outlining his erection.
“Your punishment is that you shall see, but you shall not touch. You shall want, but you shall not receive—not until it pleases me.”
He groaned again, and she kissed his chest. Her tongue found his flat, brown nipples, and she licked and teased them. Her fingers savored the soft skin and hair of his chest, felt the firm planes and ridges of his muscles. Everything about him was intoxicating—the feel of him, his manly smell, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch. To have him in her power like this was the most intoxicating thing of all, a heady elixir that heightened her senses and her hunger.