by Fiona Faris
Alexander had started a fire in the grate and had already skinned a rabbit ready to roast. Emily swallowed hungrily. It had been a long day and they had not stopped for a meal. She felt like she could eat a horse.
Coming to a stop beside Alexander, she watched as he went about his business. “What can I do to help?”
He looked up at her with a smile before looking around the room. “Well, lucky for us, there’s all this relatively dry hay in that corner. Maybe you could make up some palettes for us to sleep on.”
Emily nodded. “Alright. I think we have some blankets in the luggage.”
“Aye we do,” Rebecca chimed in from the doorway with a bundle in her arms, “I have them right here.”
She began to gather handfuls of hay, arranging them in bundles on each side of the four-walled room, choosing the one on the window side for her and Alexander and making it wide enough for them to lie comfortably. Since there was no covering on the window, it would be the coldest part of the room and it would not be fair to let one of the others get the brunt of it. Alex would keep her warm.
Alexander was adding wood to the fire, building it up as the wind picked up outside. Rebecca went out to help Benjie attend to the horses. There would be no stable for them, but there was a nearby tree under which they could be tied. There was also enough hay to provide adequate feed for them.
They gathered around the fire, letting the heat dry their clothes as they ate the roasted rabbit and loaves of bread with cups of ale - a simple meal, but filling. Afterwards, Emily was too tired to do anything other than lie down. She folded herself up in the cocoon of the nest she’d built them out of blankets and shawls, squirming to make herself comfortable.
She sighed, listening to Alexander’s baritone as he spoke softly with his sister. Impatiently, she waited for him to come to bed, wanting him next to her. Being alone was something she wanted to avoid as long as possible – she did not want to have time to think. Making a sound of discontent in her throat, she was gratified when Alexander turned to her at once.
“Is something the matter, Emily?”
She shook her head, peering at him from beneath her lashes. Rebecca got to her feet, “Well, I’ll say guid nicht then. Go to yer wife, Sawny.”
Alexander nodded, murmuring good night before getting to his feet and shuffling over to Emily. She made space for him in her nest and waited as he took his plaid off before lying down next to her. His skin gave off a natural heat that warmed her up quite nicely and she did not hesitate to snuggle as close to him as she could.
She closed her eyes and relaxed her body against him, trying to will herself to sleep but the arms of Morpheus evaded her.
“Are ye alright?” Alexander whispered against her flesh.
She nodded, refraining from shivering in reaction to his touch as Alexander’s fingers ran comfortingly up and down her spin, through the thin muslin of her gown. Fingers stepping from bone to bone, then his palm rubbing in a soothing circular motion, she followed the feel of his hand on her, blocking out all other thoughts hoping it would soothe her to sleep.
She didn’t know how long she lay there before the soft snuffling snores of her companions filled the air. Sighing, she turned onto her back, eyes on the flickering shapes of the fire on the ceiling. She felt surrounded, yet alone. There was a cold ball of uncertainty in her chest – fear for the future and her place in the world now that her father was no longer alive. They had not been married long enough for her to transfer her sense of security from father to husband so quickly.
new Despair drew tears from her eyes; running down her cheeks uncalled for and unbidden. She was helpless to stop them. Her body shook and she tried her best to lie as still as possible so as not to wake Alexander.
However, it did not surprise her, when a hand reached around her and pulled her close, his mouth hot on hers.
“It’ll be alright, Emily. It’s all gang tae be fine. Dinna fash.”
He whispered the words as he covered her face with kisses and swallowed her misery with his tongue. She lay under him, helpless, as her tears came harder and faster.
He ran his hands up and down her sides in soft, feathery motions, smooth enough to be distracting without being insistent. She squirmed deeper into his arms, seeking the warmth of his comfort and raised her head up to him.
He obliged her unspoken sentiment and covered her lips with his, gently and softly, simply a warm presence above her, protecting her from the vagaries of grief.
She relaxed completely, letting him do what he would. His hand landed gently on her breast, squeezing softly. Then he was burrowing beneath her bodice so that he could pop out her nipple and suckle upon it. She squeaked, biting her lip in an attempt at silence, remembering that they were not alone.
Moving her head she glanced to her left to view the shapeless blanket-covered unmoving lump near the door.
Watching for a while, she was relieved when the bundle did not stir, just the gentle rise and fall of dreamless sleep. It meant that she had not woken anyone. Alexander lifted her dress up to her thigh, snaking between her legs to finger delicately at her throbbing center. She jerked her hips involuntarily, barely suppressing a gasp.
Alexander whispered in her ear. "I want to make love to ye."
Emily pulled him toward her, searing their lips together in a hungry kiss, all the while maneuvering them further into their nest of blankets and hay.
She sucked in a breath as her tongue darted out to taste Alexander. She breathed in his breath, reminiscent of dawn: wet, sweet and bracing, his tongue a smooth, slippery serpent, battling hers in a contest of desire.
Their teeth clicked together intermittently in their haste, bodies almost touching. Emily gasped as Alexander sucked her lower lip into his mouth. He suckled upon it, teeth gently tugging as she pulled back.
Emily's fingers pitter-pattered on Alexander's back, lightly tapping against his warm, slightly damp skin.
Her palms made their way down his spine until she was cupping his buttocks, urging him forward toward her center. Her hands traced over the curve of his cheeks, pressing down, massaging gently. Letting her hands wander, they slipped and slid everywhere, gripping the back of his thigh. The tip of Alexander’s nipples grazed against Emily's breasts, a touch so delicate that it made them both shiver.
Lowering even further, he could feel Emily grip his back tightly and his bare flesh brushed against her muslin covered skin. Alexander paused for a second, his gaze lingering on the unconsciously seductive picture Emily made beneath him; her cheeks flushed, her bosom heaving, luxuriant blonde curls spread out like a lion's mane.
He reached down, pulling her dress up above her waist, the cold wind brushing against her skin making her shiver before Alexander covered her again.
"Oh, Alexander." Emily’s whisper was full of desire.
"Emily," His words brushed across her lips.
His hand ran through the thick thatch of fuzz as vibrant as the locks on her hair, as his fingers brushed against Emily's nub. Alexander's body began to move, trailing kisses down Emily's body as his fingers kept up their relentless assault on her senses.
Easing between her legs, he placed a hand on her thigh as his tongue darted out. He traced over the jagged edges of her sensitive nub before employing his mouth in the job of sucking her to extinction.
Saliva dripped from his mouth as he took in Emily's earthy taste. His thumb pressed down as he licked and lapped, losing himself in her essence.
Emily groaned helplessly, jolting her hips upward, her face flushed as a beetroot. Alexander gripped tighter as he took her in, his mouth sliding up to touch her, tongue tracing the tip before his lips puckered out and sucked in.
Emily could feel her climax bearing down upon her. Her toes curled as her mouth opened wide in a soundless scream. Her torso contracted as she threw her head back. Alexander clung to her, feeling her warmth, how she moved, and a hint of a tingling sensation in his mouth.
Emily’s eyes
slid open as Alexander moved back and sat up with a smile.
"How lucky am I to have a lover like you," Emily grinned.
"You're all I could've asked for," Alexander smiled with desire
Frances slithered out of her palette, yawning widely. She got to her feet and hurried out to do her business. Her colour was still heightened by what she had heard the night before. She had been trying to get to sleep when the sounds started. At first, she thought she had been mistaken but then…the sounds Miss Emily made had her hot and bothered, embarrassed and unsettled. She had barely gotten any sleep afterwards. The sounds of suckling and licking kept her awake long after they had stopped.
The sound of a footstep startled her and she whirled around, hands up in automatic defense.
“It is just me, Benjie” his own hands flying up in defense.
Frances slumped in relief, turning away from him with a sigh. The boy came to stand next to her. “Are you alright?”
She nodded frantically, her face flushed.
“I suppose you heard it too then.” He grinned knowingly at her.
“Heard? Heard what?”
“The moanin’?” his grin was lascivious and he lowered his voice.
“I wager you’d have liked to know what they were up to.”
Frances looked at her feet. “As a matter of fact, I would not. It’s none of my business.”
Benjie laughed. “I think it’s all our business seeing as we had to listen to it.”
The sound of movement inside the cottage reached their ears.
“Shh!” Frances moved quickly away from him. The trouble was that she was exceeding curious as to what had made her lady groan and sigh with such pleasure. She could not settle in her skin for thinking about it.
Rebecca wandered out of the house, smiling vaguely at them both before heading out for the woods
Emily went from a deep sleep to being perfectly alert within seconds. She looked around at her unfamiliar surroundings, remembering after a moment where she was and why they were on this journey.
Her heart plummeted and she sat up in bed. Alexander stirred beside her as soon as she moved. She began to push the blankets away so she could work her way out of the blankets, but stopped quickly, realizing that her gown was still bunched around her waist.
Pushing it down quickly, she moved Alexander’s hand – that was nestled between her thighs – so she could pull down her dress properly. She scrambled out of bed, still feeling pleasantly sensitive. Whatever Alexander had done with his tongue last night, had totally boggled her mind and spoiled her for anything else and she hoped it would not be a one off.
Walking out, Frances and Benjie were talking by the wagon in low voices. Smiling to herself, she gave them a small wave and left them to it, even as she wondered why they were avoiding her eyes.
The deep sound of a throat clearing had her turning around.
Alexander smiled. “Guid morning.”
Her lashes swept down over her eyes as she blushed. “Good morning Alexander.”
“Did ye sleep well?”
Her blush deepened. “Very well.” Her voice was low and breathless and her heart stuttered as his hand reached out and cupped her elbow.
“That’s guid. Have ye had yer breakfast?”
“We all just got up.”
“Och weel then I shall see what we have handy. I hope ye dinna mind cold rabbit?”
Emily laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t mind it at all. We can eat something hot when we get to an inn.”
Alexander nodded. “Indeed we can. I have put some water to warm for your morning ablutions. Come inside before it gets too hot.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Rebecca thanked the lord that the day was relatively dry as they as they rode. They made much better progress than they had the day before despite Alexander and Emily’s distracted nature. She could hardly refrain from rolling her eyes as she watched them make cow eyes at each other.
If the ruckus from last night was anything to go by, whatever obstacles they had experienced in the first days of their marriage were well on the way to disappearing all together.
She was pleased for her brother and his wife. This was the sort of happiness she had always wanted for him. The kind of joy that was inspiring to others, for she had not missed the shy glances passing between Frances and the new boy.
Perhaps their passion is infectious.
She snorted to herself even as she thought it. Very soon she might be looking back at some lad who happened to cross her path. The thought almost made her laugh out loud. Who would want a wife like her after all? She had grown up rough, had no manners to speak of, tended to speak her mind at all times…Rebecca knew she would never be anyone’s first choice. She had made her peace with that.
But she was glad for her brother nevertheless.
“We are not far from the inn, perhaps an hour. Shall we stop and eat and then continue, for it is still three hours before sunset, or should we stop for the night?” she looked behind her at Alexander and Emily, riding side by side in the wagon while Frances and Benjie followed behind with the horses.
Alexander turned to Emily. “What do ye think, Emily? Do ye feel up to another night of sleeping rough?”
Emily hesitated, looking between Alexander and Rebecca. “I would like to stay at the inn if possible. Will it slow us down too much if we do not continue today?”
Rebecca shook her head gently, feeling empathy for the girl. “We have made good time today. We can spend the night at the inn and I think that we can even afford room for us all.” Her gaze flicked to the lady’s maid and the new boy at the back, both of whom were not paying attention to anything but each other. Rebecca frowned, wondering if she should be doing something to chaperone the pair.
She did not know what the protocol for such situations was.
Sighing deeply, she turned back, urging her horse into a canter. Perhaps the feel of a good breeze on her face would help her escape the effects of cupid. There was only so much she could control after all.
Alexander had one eye on Emily at all times, the other he tried to keep on their pathway. They were more than halfway to their destination, but that did not mean the brigands would not be lying in wait for them. They were vulnerable on a road like this and it would be a good opportunity for the bandits to strike. Surely they were hiding somewhere, planning something to avenge their wounded pride.
Before long they arrived at the inn, which meant more people. That was both a good and bad thing, for word of their journey could spread and possibly reach unfriendly ears. On the other hand, they were not as vulnerable here as on an empty road, and the way before was much busier than the road from Dun Alba.
Alexander felt the need to heighten his level of alertness, while trying to resist the urge to relax in the relative safety of the inn.
The innkeeper’s wife ambled out to meet them, staring curiously at their party. Alexander stepped forward to meet her.
“We wish to sup and rest for the night.”
The innkeeper’s wife looked at Alexander and his party. “And how many rooms will you require?”
“Three.” Rebecca remarked boldly and the woman looked again to Alexander for confirmation before gesturing for them to stow their horses in the adjoining stables. “Three rooms it is. Dinner will be served in the hall as soon as you all are ready.”
The inn was a riot of noise.
There was thunderous laughter from the men, while the women tittered coquettishly. Flagons of ale clacked loudly as they crashed together in drunken toasts. A young minstrel plucked a battered lute in one corner, the reedy warble of his voice fighting to be heard over the din.
Alexander stared at the trencher sitting on the table before him. Roast beef and boiled potatoes swam in thick gravy -a fitting repast after a long and hard day's ride.
The ever-present rain was something he was accustomed to but he worried for Emily and even Frances - delicate flowers that they were
. He could sense Emily’s morale flagging with every mile that drew them closer to Eddingfield Hall and he loathed the helpless feeling that it brought to him.
Perhaps it would help if we found the killer.
Alexander was a man used to relying on his instinct and intuition; it had saved his life more than once. Ever since he had heard the news of Lord Caldwell’s death, something had made him feel uneasy about the affair. He knew something about this death was not right. Bile rose at the back of his throat every time he thought of it. An image of the baron lying with his throat slit formed in his mind's eye. It felt more like a vision than a thought of is own conjuring. He shook his head from side to side, to dismiss it.