by Paula Quinn
“What will it take to coax ye back to bed?” he asked.
She pretended to think on it. “Something special, I think.”
“How special?”
She looked down. “Very special.”
Alex chuckled. “Kiss me, Keely.”
A foot taller than her, she stood on her toes and locked her hands behind his neck, pulling him down. Something sparked between them as their lips met, and Keely felt the wetness between her legs again.
“Is it always this easy between a man and woman, Alex?”
“Nay,” he said. “We share something rare. And I canna get enough of ye.” He dragged her from the table over to the closest chair and sat down. He patted his lap. “Straddle me.”
“How?”
“Very slowly, I doona wish to hurt ye.” Guiding her, he sunk inside her as she lowered herself on top of him.
It felt so different. Though she was overly sensitive between her legs, no pain ensued. Instinctively, she started to roll her hips while Alex held on.
“That’s it, lass. Doona stop.”
She’d never thought it possible that a woman could take control. She liked it, perhaps more than she should. But just as she was getting familiar with how to move, Alex lifted her and carried her to the wall. He pressed her back against the cold, smooth stones, holding her up while he thrust inside her. Was there no end to the pleasure? No end to how many ways her new husband could bed her?
Alex stopped moving and bit his lower lip. “I canna hold it, lass. I am sorry for it.”
She dinna care, he’d already given her so much enjoyment, so much hope.
Once he stopped convulsing, he lifted her chin and placed a kiss on her lips. “We should sleep now.”
They walked hand-in-hand back to the bed. As she slipped under the furs, Keely couldna remember a time when she felt so content. Alex turned on his side and pulled her close, keeping an arm around her. “Sleep well, milady,” he whispered.
She smiled as she closed her eyes, hoping her dreams were as sweet as the memories she’d made with her husband that night.
Chapter Fifteen
Despite the temptation to stay with his wife, Alex knew there was much work to be done. He was careful not to make too much noise as he slipped out of the bed to find his clothes. Aye—the night couldna have gone better. Keely was everything a man could want in bed. Her scent lingered all over him, and he liked it that way. He washed his face and hands, then dressed. Once his boots were on, he walked to the door and knocked four times.
The bolt slid back and one of the guards opened it for him. “Good morn, Laird Alex,” Iain said with a stupid smile.
Alex nodded and stepped into the corridor. “Let my wife sleep. When she is ready, she is free to walk about the keep and bailey. But one of ye must stay with her at all times.”
“Aye,” Iain said.
Alex made his way belowstairs, and was welcomed by the council and his captains.
“Food,” he demanded, claiming his seat at the high table.
A maid set a trencher of warm oats in front of him, then filled his cup with ale.
“Ye survived the long night. Did ye bring the sheet?” Mathe asked.
“What sheet?” Alex swallowed his first bite of food.
“The bloody sheet from yer bridal bed,” Mathe explained. “To provide the necessary evidence of yer wife’s purity. There’s been much talk of it.”
“And who is entitled to see it?”
“The council, your captains, and perhaps any clan member who is interested. This marriage isna a private affair, milord. Hundreds of people are depending on ye, on Lady MacKay, to set things right, to heal the wounds so cruelly inflicted by the past and the Sutherlands. In short, Alex, hope.”
“And a blasted sheet will give ye that hope?” He couldna understand why any of them would doubt his ability to determine whether his young bride was an innocent or not. “My word should suffice. I did see virgin’s blood.”
Mathe leaned closer and spoke quietly. “I believe ye.”
“Let that be enough.”
“Nay.”
“What do ye mean, nay?”
“There are those like Angus. Tenants filled with superstitions who need to see the physical evidence to satisfy their doubts. The sheet should be hung from the window in yer bedchamber or even here in the great hall.”
Alex growled with disapproval. “I dinna bed my wife in the usual way.”
Mathe raised a brow. “Milord?”
Alex sighed and scrubbed his face. Did he really need to explain? Perhaps. The older man clung to tradition like the superstitious crofters he spoke about. “We dinna use the bed, Mathe. Not the first time.”
The councilman’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
“Are ye going to call me a heathen again?”
“I doona know what to say, Alexander. Is Lady Keely well?”
“Sleeping as sound as a babe.”
“Something must be done, milord. Quickly.”
With the sudden loss of his appetite, Alex shot up from his chair and rushed upstairs. Instead of returning to the laird’s bedchamber where Keely slept, he went to her room. Fresh linens were folded and kept on a shelf near the bed. He selected a sheet, opened it, and then used the dirk from his boot to cut himself on the wrist. Very carefully, he sprinkled a fair amount of blood on the material. “There’s yer virgin’s blood,” he said out loud.
He left the soiled linen on the bed and went back to the great hall to find a maid.
Fortunately, Leah was available. “Go to my wife’s chamber and bring the bridal sheet belowstairs. Present it to Captain Mathe and do with it as he asks.”
Leah curtsied and left.
Alex once again claimed his chair at the high table. “Leah will fetch the sheet ye asked for.”
“Good,” Mathe said. “Are ye happy, Alex? Will Keely suit?”
Alex took a drink of ale. “She’ll suit.”
He finished his meal in silence, then motioned for his captains to follow him outside. The west village must be rebuilt. If it wasn’t, the Sutherlands would see it as a sign of fear. And he’d be damned if the earl would be given any opportunity to claim victory over the MacKays.
A squire saddled his horse and brought him out of the stable. Alex mounted, waiting for the rest of his men to do the same. The west village was a short ride away. Since he hadn’t taken the time to tour it after the battle, it was a long overdue visit.
An hour later, they approached the outskirts. It dinna take long for Alex to see the devastation, burned out huts and scorched earth. The gardens were even destroyed. Nothing had been spared. It enraged Alex that such violence was directed at his people, instead of at him or the MacKay soldiers. Women and children had died or been kidnapped.
“There is nothing worth saving.” Jamie rode up beside him.
“Except for our pride.”
“Aye,” his cousin reluctantly agreed. “There is that.”
“What it’s worth,” Alex added.
“Not much to a Sutherland.”
“But everything to a MacKay,” Alex finished.
Nearly a hundred people had lived there. Though one of the smaller villages, the tenants were hard workers and produced the finest wool and tastiest vegetables for his table. It had always been that way. As a child, Alex would play with the children who lived there, spending hours swimming in the nearby loch and eating supper with whatever family invited him to stay.
He dismounted and walked to a random spot where a hut once stood. He crouched and picked up a clump of earth and smelled it, rich soil—the best his lands had to offer.
“How many huts were here?” he asked.
“Seventeen,” one of his men answered.
“Rebuild every one of them, better than before. I want a defensive wall constructed as well—four feet high, from stone.”
“Alex.” Jamie joined him. “The time and expense…”
“No expense will
be spared, Jamie. Remember, with my new lairdship comes my well-supplied purse. The MacKays willna go without again.”
“And what will happen the next time a Sutherland decides to attack the village?”
“We will be prepared. A guardhouse is to be built as well. Four soldiers will be permanently stationed here.”
His cousin nodded, but Alex knew he disagreed with his choices.
Alex wouldna let the land stand fallow. Nay, he’d use the strategies he’d learned while he was away and make the MacKays a feared clan. Even the keep required updating. He wanted to construct a new tower and reinforce the outer wall. They also needed to recruit new soldiers. All of it would be financed by his own gold and silver.
“Where do ye wish to go next?” Jamie asked.
“We will visit all of the westward villages today. Leave half of the men here to start working, the rest will come with us.”
Jamie immediately departed to make sure his orders were followed.
The earl would pay for his treachery even though there was no direct proof linking the man to this violence. Spilled blood required revenge. An eye for an eye—as the Almighty demanded. Alex wouldna rest until the debt was paid in full.
*
Keely knew she had to brave going belowstairs. As Lady MacKay, earning the respect and trust of the clan meant everything to her. She couldna hide in her bedchamber forever. With Leah at her side, she descended the stairs, hoping to be welcomed by someone.
The colorful tapestry and weapons hanging over the main hearth in the great hall had been covered with a blood-stained sheet. Keely couldna believe her eyes. And though she understood the importance of the symbol, it was a lie.
“Milady,” Leah urged her mistress onward. “Ye must take yer seat at the high table.”
“That dinna come from our bridal bed,” she informed Leah.
“Aye. Laird Alex sent me to retrieve it from yer bedchamber.”
“But why?”
Her every move was being carefully watched by the soldiers and servants in the hall. It was bad enough she’d woken in an empty bed, learning from her maid that Alex had ridden off with his captains. But to have to stare at the sheet while she broke her fast… It dinna set right with her.
“Remove the unseemly thing,” she commanded Leah.
The maid hesitated, looking about the hall before she finally nodded and searched for a chair to stand on so she could reach it. Leah dragged the heavy piece of furniture as close to the hearth as she could get it, then climbed up. Just as she started to reach for the end of the sheet, Mathe approached.
“Nay,” he called out. “Climb down, Mistress Leah.”
“But sir…” the maid said.
“Doona stop, Leah,” Keely instructed her.
“Lady Keely,” Mathe said. “The sheet must stay.”
“I disagree, Captain Mathe. After all…” she whispered. “Tis my blood on it, is it not?”
The captain’s cheeks turned scarlet. “If ye’d come with me.” He took her arm, gently encouraging her to walk with him. “A conversation better held in private.”
Keely stopped walking. “And where would we find a place to talk alone?”
“Yer husband’s solar, perhaps?”
Keely shook her head. “And give the clan something else to wag their tongues over? I am well aware that my reputation is questionable, Captain Mathe, but I wouldna want to give the maids a reason to start talking ill of ye. Anything ye have to say will be spoken here.”
“Christ’s blood,” the normally mild captain exclaimed as he huffed out a breath. “I dinna think I’d live to see the day when the Almighty would deliver a woman with a tongue as careless as her laird’s.”
Keely couldna hold back the morbid laugh. “What are ye trying to say?”
“Lady Keely…” He cleared his throat. “That sheet is to remain hanging in the hall for ten days—enough time for any MacKay or visitor to satisfy their moral curiosity.”
“Moral curiosity? Just what is that, sir?”
“Proof of yer innocence.”
Keely bit her tongue. What she was dying to say included something about how indecent her wedding night with her new husband had been—how there’d been no sheet to capture her virgin blood. Aye, perhaps she had spent too much time around Alex in the past—and six older brothers who rarely refrained from expressing themselves in front of her. “Ye require evidence of my innocence, Captain Mathe, but the very thing used to prove it is vulgar in every way!”
“Tis not abhorrent in any way, Lady Keely.”
“Nay? Shall I tell ye what it made me think of the moment I saw it?”
Mathe tugged at his collar. “I-I believe I can guess without further explanation.”
“May I be of some help?” Petro appeared suddenly.
Keely gazed at the scholar. Where had he come from? Did it matter? She more than appreciated his presence. “Good morn,” she greeted him, trying to banish her sour mood.
“Good morn,” he returned with a smile. “Perhaps Captain Mathe would prefer finishing his ale. Laird Alex asked me to keep an eye out for you. Unfortunately, he needed to inspect the west village so he could make the necessary arrangements to rebuild the place. A walk would be nice.” He offered his arm.
Keely dinna need to think about it, she accepted. “Please send Leah out,” she told the captain.
Mathe bowed his head out of duty, nothing more. “As ye wish.” He rushed back to the hall.
“I have waited for this moment,” Petro said.
“My moment of utter shame?”
He chuckled. “No. The pleasure of your company, milady, a chance to speak alone.”
“I doona see why. I am sure ye’ve been exposed to the gossip.”
“I am a man of science, Lady Keely. If I listened to every rumor, then the process of discovery would be wasted on me. I prefer to gather facts, then make my own judgments.”
In that moment, Keely decided she liked Petro, immensely. “Then tell me what ye wish to know.”
Leah joined them. “Shall I retrieve our walking cloaks?”
“Aye,” Keely said. “We will be in the bailey, Leah.”
The fresh air immediately restored Keely’s calm. The sun peeked out from behind wispy, white clouds, and the fragrant breeze cooled her cheeks. “Some would say this mild weather is a good omen of things to come in my marriage.”
“Others would suggest it might be the calm before the storm.”
There was no malice on the scholar’s face. Nay, the man simply appreciated quick wit and probably found he dinna get much here. Not that the MacKays were lacking in education. Alex and his brother were well tutored as lads. Alex could read and write, as could several of his captains. It’s what they read that worried her the most. Closed minds—superstitious tenants—a strong belief in God but fear of the tiny creatures that were believed to haunt the mountains and lochs.
“Our fate was sealed long ago,” she repeated Alex’s own words. “So no signs from heaven can change our future, I’m afraid.”
“Ah,” he said. “But you can.”
They strolled past soldiers practicing maneuvers and younger recruits shooting arrows at grass-stuffed targets. Children were playing while some of the women were busy washing clothes and sorting vegetables from the gardens. The wedding celebration hadn’t changed the reality of the next day. If it had been a normal wedding, the celebration would have lasted for days, maybe even a week.
“Aye, if I had supporters among the MacKays.”
“Do you not?”
Keely thought about it. “Leah.”
“Did you forget me? Or the Kalil brothers?”
She hadn’t considered them. “Five out of several thousand—tis not much.”
“It’s a start, milady.”
Leah finally appeared with their light, wool cloaks and one of the guards assigned to stay with Keely. She pinned her cloak in place, then quickly started to walk with Petro again.
&nb
sp; “What has my husband told ye about me?”
“Many things.” His eyes sparkled in the sunlight.
“I know ye travelled together from Italy.”
The scholar nodded. “I met Alex a few months after he left here.”
“Was he…” she hesitated.
“Angry?”
“Aye.”
“I’ve never met a more miserable man.”
Some women might like hearing it, but Keely dinna. Though she did possess a certain amount of curiosity about his past, the guilt still hung heavy about her neck like a millstone.
The guards opened the main gates for them, and Petro ushered her through, Leah and her armed escort keeping a respectable distance behind them. The fact that she had any freedom to come and go pleased Keely. For if he’d wanted to, Alex could have locked her abovestairs.
They followed a well-worn path to the loch where so much of Keely’s finest memories with the MacKays had happened. Fishing and swimming, lazy afternoons spent with Alex and John, and a host of tenants she’d always considered friends.
“This land is different than my home,” Petro observed.
“In what way? I’ve always wondered about Italy.”
“Tis a sensuous place.”
Keely liked the way he described his home. “I’ve never heard a man describe his land like that.”
“Rome is a crowded city—filled with saints and sinners.”
“The Highlands have few of their own.”
His smile reached his dark eyes. “And I think you consider your husband one of those sinners.”
She shrugged. “I am a woman, sir. My opinion means little.”
“It means something to me.”
“Why?”
“I will tell you what I told Alex. I pledged loyalty to your husband, and will serve him faithfully. But that doesn’t mean I cannot be your friend, Lady Keely. Whatever you confide in me will stay between us. Unless it threatens the life of Alex—that is where I draw the line of distinction.”