“We ought to go inside and see to your leg,” she said.
“Nay, it barely hurts at all.” He paused to lift Ella high in the air, which made her laugh. “Don’t tell my father. The way he’s been lately, he’ll question everyone in the castle over a wee thorn.”
To her mind, the earl behaved like a man with lands and responsibilities who had only one heir.
“Ach, look at Finn!” Alex said, turning to watch the practice. “He’s better than all of them.”
“Why are the other guards lined up to fight him?” Margaret asked.
“Because he’s the best,” Alex said. “And they’re angry with him—but he’s already winning them over.”
She could see his impressive fighting skills and good humor were bringing them around. By the time Finn faced the last warrior in line, however, he had welts on his arms and torso from the blows he had taken. Though he must be exhausted as well, he moved with grace and speed, as if he could do this all day.
She swallowed hard when the last man stepped up to challenge Finn. He was huge, with legs the size of tree trunks and a vicious look in his eyes.
“Treat?” Ella interrupted, tugging on Margaret’s skirts.
Margaret beamed at her. Just a few short days ago, Ella was afraid to draw attention to herself or to ask for anything. In Ella’s home, she had learned it was safest for a child to be neither seen nor heard. It would take a long time to overcome her fears, but this was a good sign.
“Of course, sweetling,” Margaret said, though she wished she could watch Finn a little longer to be sure he survived his last fight without serious injury.
“I’ll take the wee lassie inside,” Una said, then leaned down to speak to Ella. “Cook has made a plum pudding, and it’s still warm. Shall we have some before your nap?”
Ella nodded with a shy smile.
“Warm plum pudding?” Alex said. “I’ll go with ye.”
Margaret’s heart swelled as she watched her small daughter walking between the old woman and Alex, holding their hands. Despite the incident in the woods with Curstag, Ella was learning to trust—or rather, she was learning who she could trust, and that was still better.
###
Finn winced as he pulled his torn shirt over his head.
“Mercy!” Margaret gasped. “What have they done to you?”
“For the men to accept me,” he said, “I must prove myself—and take a wee bit of punishment for leaving to fight with the Sinclairs.”
“This is a wee bit?” She raked her gaze over his bare chest and back as she circled him.
If he’d known a few cuts and bruises would overcome her shyness, he’d have asked the men to beat on him sooner. This was nothing, but why tell her that?
“I’d like to give those men a piece of my mind,” she said. “I’ll see if Una has a salve for those cuts, but we’d best get ye washed first.”
This was sounding better and better. The notion of Margaret sliding her soapy hands all over his body was verra appealing.
“Can’t wait to get clean,” he said with a grin.
“Good,” she said in a clipped tone. “You wash up while I get the salve.”
The cuts stung like hell as he washed, so he made quick work of it and was sitting on the stool with the drying cloth wrapped around his waist when she returned. She took a long and thorough look at his bare torso and legs, which made her blush and him get hard. Pretending that had not happened, she smoothed her expression and set about tending to his wounds.
“How long do ye suppose it will take to prove yourself?” Margaret asked as she dabbed the salve on his cuts with gentle fingers.
“The men respect my skills as a warrior, and most of them have known me since I was a lad,” he said. “But ’tis a serious offense to fight for an enemy clan.”
“Even if that clan is also your blood relation?”
“My Sinclair blood is what makes me suspect in the first place,” he said with a smile.
As Margaret leaned across him to apply salve to a cut on his shoulder, her breasts were barely an inch from his face, and he blessed the man who struck that particular blow. The lavender in her hair filled his nose, and he could almost taste her skin on his tongue.
“They ought to understand ye fought for a chance to gain your own lands,” she said.
“These men are content with the honor of serving in their laird’s guard, and some of them resent me for wanting more,” Finn said. “Being close kin to three earls, though it gains me little, also sets me apart.”
“So they make you pay by battering you?” Margaret blew out her breath and shook her head. “What about your uncle? Is there more ye must do to win his trust?”
“I suspect there is, but he hasn’t told me yet.”
Her fingers and hands rubbing salve over his bare skin was driving him mad with lust. The lass no longer showed any unease with his near nakedness. In fact, he was beginning to think she was touching him more than strictly necessary with the salve…
Perhaps this would lead to more. God, he hoped so. With another woman, he knew it would. Last night, he thought he could get past the barrier Margaret raised between them by going slowly and giving her time. But she’d left him frustrated and confused. Though he hated to admit it, her rejection hurt him as well.
“Ella and I went for a walk in the wood with Curstag,” she said.
He groaned inwardly at the thought of the two women talking. Margaret may as well have poured a bucket of cold water over his head.
“What’s the cause of the trouble between you and your brother?” Margaret asked. “Has it something to do with his wife?
Damn, what had Curstag told her? Though Margaret’s careful tone held no accusation, he could read her well enough now to tell from the tension in those pretty, slender shoulders that the lass cared very much about his answer.
He wanted to tell her the truth about Curstag. And he would, one day. But now, while they were stuck here together with his family, was not the right time. Before he told Maggie about his past with Curstag, he needed to convince her she could trust him. Telling her the truth now would make it that much harder to persuade her.
“Bearach and I have never gotten along,” he said, and hoped to leave it at that.
“And Curstag?”
“What about her?”
“Well,” she said, casting her gaze to the side, “she watches you as if…”
“As if what?”
“As if the two of you were lovers. She said as much today.” Margaret quickly added, “Of course, it’s not any of my concern.”
Margaret sounded jealous. Now that was promising.
Finn rested his hands on her hips and met her gaze. “She’s nothing to me.”
“Would Curstag say the same?” she asked.
“Doesn’t matter what she’d say,” he said. “You’re the one I want.”
###
He wanted her? There was nothing special about that. Men had been wanting to bed her since she was thirteen. But Finn was the first man she wanted.
If ye had me, what then? She was tempted to ask him, but she already knew the answer. He would be disappointed. Beauty drew men to her, but William had shown her that was not enough.
“You’re so beautiful ye take my breath away,” he said, which was like jabbing her with the point of his blade.
When he reached for her, she turned her back.
For once, she wished a man wanted her just for herself. She wanted Finn because of everything he was. His good heart, charm, and humor drew her as much as his fine looks—though they were very fine, indeed.
She sighed. It did not matter why he wanted her anyway. The risk of another failed pregnancy and heartache was too great to give in to temptation.
Late that night, as they lay side by side in the bed, the tension was thick between them.
“I don’t know which will kill me first,” Finn muttered, “frustration or lack of sleep.”
“Death s
eems unlikely,” she said.
He chuckled, which eased the tension for a moment.
“Ye know this can’t go on forever,” Finn said, turning on his side to face her. “Just what was your plan?”
He was far too handsome in the glow of the candle he’d left burning, so she decided it was safer to keep her gaze fixed on the ceiling.
“I had no plan beyond not being labeled a whore,” she said.
“I don’t mean when we arrived here at Dunrobin,” he said. “What was your plan at the verra beginning when ye decided to go along with the kidnapping?”
“I don’t recall ye giving me a choice.”
“All the same, ye wanted to come with me,” he said.
“Ella’s brother only brought her to me an hour before ye came to the cottage,” she explained. “I’d decided I must escape with her, but I’d no time to make a plan beyond that.”
“Ye took a chance running off with a kidnapper,” he said. “Evidently, it wasn’t because ye find me irresistible.”
He was very nearly irresistible, which was the problem.
“In truth,” she said, “I’ve never done anything so bold in my life as the things I did that night.”
“Do ye regret coming away with me?”
“Nay,” she said. “Not for a moment.”
If not for Finn, she would almost surely have been caught, lost Ella, and been forced to wed a powerful nobleman her brother needed as an ally.
“I’m grateful to ye,” she said.
“Gratitude is not what I want from ye,” Finn said in a strained voice.
Though Finn was not like William, the discord her refusal caused between them made her feel tense and vulnerable. She knew Finn would never force her or make her pay in other ways for not complying with his wishes. And yet she could not forget the lessons she learned from her years of marriage so easily.
There was one lesson she’d learned from William, however, that might be useful here.
“There is something”—she hesitated—“I could do to help ye sleep.”
“What, sing to me?” he asked. “I doubt that will help, but if ye wish to tr—”
He abruptly stopped speaking when she got on her knees and began to slowly pull the bedclothes down his body. The gaze he fixed on her held such heat it scorched her skin. That gave her more confidence that Finn would welcome this means of resolving his problem, and they could both get some much-needed sleep.
As she dragged the bedclothes farther down, they caught on his erection for a moment, and then his shaft sprang free. She swallowed. He certainly was ready.
She pushed away the memories of William holding her head down and forcing her to do this. Gingerly, she wrapped her hand around his shaft, which was thick and long and already wet at the tip.
“Jesu,” Finn moaned on an exhale.
That was encouraging. This should not take long. Leaning over him carefully so that no other part of their bodies touched, she brought her mouth toward his shaft.
Finn reached out to touch her hair.
“Don’t,” she blurted out.
Finn dropped his hand. William had never heeded her requests, so she had quit making them. Instead, he gave her endless instructions until she learned to do this—not well, but well enough.
Not like that! What is the matter with ye? ‘Tis fortunate you’re beautiful because you’re utterly useless in bed.
###
Finn was more confused than ever. He longed to touch her, but she would not even let him touch her hair. When she leaned down, he could not breathe. Nay, he could not be mistaken as to what she meant to do. Her hair fell over her shoulder and the ends brushed against his hip, sending a sweet thrill of sensation across his skin like a shimmer across a loch.
Desire hit him so hard he had to clench his fists when she ran her fingertips down the column of his manhood.
“O shluagh, please,” escaped his lips as he watched her slowly lower her mouth.
When she glanced up at him, she stole his breath away—God help him, she was so beautiful, and she was holding his cock…but…was that alarm in her eyes?
“Maggie, what’s wro—”
She took him in her mouth and every single thought left his head. Nothing existed except the glorious sensation of her lips capturing his cock, her tongue sliding and flicking, toying with him, teasing him, driving him to madness.
Aye. Aye. Aye! He did not know if he said the words aloud or just moaned them when she took him fully into her mouth and sucked. Ach, it felt so good that he was going to explode if he did not stop her, and this would all end far too soon.
He took hold of her shoulders as he sat up and pulled her against his chest.
“Did I not do it right?” She looked at him with wide, frightened eyes.
Good God, of all things, why would she say that? Then Finn knew why—there could be only one explanation—and he wanted to kill her former husband for it.
When Finn touched her cheek, she jerked away. He needed to tread carefully here.
“The truth is,” he told her, “I feared I’d die of pleasure.”
She tilted her head. “Then why did ye not let me finish?”
“Because ye don’t really want to,” he said. “You’re only doing it to keep me from touching you.”
“If it gives ye pleasure, what does it matter why I do it?”
“Because I want to give ye pleasure, not just take it. I want to touch ye, to feel your body against mine, to be inside ye and hear ye cry my name,” he said, resting his palm against her cheek. “I want to make love to you.”
Her eyes went dark and she bit her lip, and he caught a glimmer of the lass who had pulled him into a deep kiss outside of Huntly Castle. She was tempted, but something was holding her back.
Just what was she afraid of?
“Ye can’t have a child, so ye needn’t worry you’ll end up bound to me,” he said.
“Or you to me,” she said in a tight voice.
Then why the hell not? And what did she mean by that, anyway? He was desperate to have her in his arms, but she was cooling by the moment.
“If you require a true handfasting to do it, I’m willing.” He nearly choked on the words, but he didn’t see where pretending and actually being handfasted would be much different. Either way, they’d be sharing this bed, and he could not have any other women.
“Although I’m flattered by such a heartfelt proposal,” she said, “I must refuse, for your sake as well as mine.”
Judging by the way she picked up the pillow and fluffed it rather vigorously with her fist, he must have phrased that badly. With all the blood drained from his head and filling his cock, he could not think properly.
Ach! He was even more confused and frustrated than before. The only thing he knew for certain was that Margaret was not going to reveal her secrets tonight. When she turned her back to him again, he felt as if she’d drawn an invisible line down the bed between them that he dare not cross.
And he had never felt lonelier in his life.
CHAPTER 17
Finn could take the punishment the men meted out at practice each day. At least he felt he was making progress with them. But after three more nights of tossing and turning beside Margaret, Finn could not take much more. And Margaret showed no signs of changing her mind.
He was in a foul mood and well on his way to getting stinking drunk when his brother plunked down beside him. The other men in the hall had taken one look at Finn and had the sense to leave him alone with his whisky.
“Ye look terrible,” Bearach said, giving him a harder-than-friendly slap on the back. “That bride of yours must be riding ye hard.”
“Mind your tongue.” Finn kept his gaze fixed in front of him and willed his brother to disappear.
“Ach, that Maggie is something to look at,” Bearach said. “Acts all quiet and proper, but I’d wager she’s a wildcat under the blankets.”
“Don’t speak about her like that.” Fi
nn’s head began to pound as he slowly turned to face his brother. “In fact, I’d ask ye not to foul her name by speaking of her at all.”
“If you’re having trouble satisfying your bride, little brother,” Bearach said, “I’d be happy to take a turn and show her what she’s missing.”
Finn grabbed Bearach by the throat and lifted him off the bench. Speaking each word slowly, he said, “Stay away from her.”
“It won’t matter if I do,” Bearach said with a smirk. “She’ll come to me, just like Curstag did.”
“Is minic a bhris béal duine a shorn.” Many a time a man's mouth broke his nose.
Finn was very close to planting his fist in his brother’s face when he heard the rustle of a gown and looked over his shoulder to find his mother fast approaching.
“Let go of him!” his mother shouted from still several feet away. “What in God’s name is wrong with ye, Finn?”
“I mean it. Stay away from my wife,” Finn said an inch from Bearach’s face before dropping his brother back onto the bench.
“Ha, you’ve fallen for the bitch, haven’t ye?” Bearach laughed and slapped the table. “Thought you’d learned your lesson. You’re a damned fool.”
Finn did not often agree with his brother, but he was indeed a fool. Margaret would not have him, but he could not enjoy himself with any other lass because that would dishonor his wife. Worse still, he had no interest in bedding any other lass. No one could be more surprised than Finn was to learn that Margaret was the only woman he wanted.
###
Finn had no hope of sleep again that night. Watching Margaret in the moonlight shining through the window made him feel as if something heavy was pressing against his chest.
He tossed aside the bedclothes, got dressed, and headed down the stairs. He needed fresh air. A thorough swiving was what he really needed. It would not be hard to find a willing lass, but word would go around, and that would shame Margaret.
As he descended the dark stairwell to the floor above the great hall, he saw a shaft of light under the door to his aunt and uncle’s private solar. Who would be in there in the middle of the night? Imagining someone rifling through his uncle’s locked drawers, he eased the door open only to find his uncle sitting alone drinking.
Kidnapped by a Rogue, kindle Page 16