Megan Denby

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Megan Denby Page 10

by A Thistle in the Mist


  “Och, and take care o’ that troublemaker, Napoleon, would ye Duncan? He’s got a wee too big for his britches!”

  Then he was off in a whirl of robes and we were left to alone.

  The silence in the little cottage was not of the comfortable sort.

  Fumbling in my pocket, I withdrew the piece of cloth. Staring at the pitiful embroidery I suddenly had grave misgivings and stammered, “Duncan I’m... I’m sorry I dinna have a ring for ye. This is all I have. It’s just a bit of needlework I did as a girl if ye remember. It’s no much but I thought mebbe...” My voice trailed away as I realised I was babbling. I continued to stare at the cloth. What idiot notion had made me think Duncan would even want this? Balling the square in my fist, I stared at my feet.

  I felt the heat of Duncan’s fingers on my chin. With slight pressure, he tipped my face and slowly I looked up. His eyes glowed and his fingers brushed mine as he took the crumpled cloth from my hand. He peered at it for a long while as I held my breath.

  “Meara, lass, this is better than a ring. Ye didna ha’ to give me a thing but this,” He held the cloth before him and continued, “this is somethin’ ye made with yer own wee hands. And I remember the day yer mother let ye out ‘cause ye hated sewin’ so much. We rode together. Do ye remember?” I nodded, unable to speak.

  “Thank ye, lassie,” he managed, his voice thick. Folding it with care, he placed it in his sporran then gazed into my eyes. “I’ll carry it always.” I could not turn away from his steady look as he reached for my hand. Raising it to his mouth, he gently kissed the palm then drew me in close to his chest.

  I inhaled his scent. He smelled clean, mostly of spice soap, slightly of Tormod. His heart beat steadily against my cheek. I peered up into his face. His skin was smooth, freshly shaven, his eyes intense as he met my stare. Reaching up I traced the strong planes with the tips of my fingers. A muscle twitched in his jaw and he closed his eyes. His hands moved up, stilled my fingers and pressed them to his cheek. Then he backed up and I followed, my heart fluttering like a trapped moth.

  “Come, lass.”

  “Aye,” I breathed.

  Duncan turned and pushed the curtain aside, revealing a bed, neat with fresh linen, quilts and plump pillows. My belly tightened as Duncan drew me down beside him. He propped his head on one hand while the other smoothed my hair. I lay on my back, stared up into his face.

  “Duncan, I dinna ken, I...,” I whispered, hiding my eyes with my hand.

  His finger touched my lips. “Shh, Meara, I ken.” He slipped my hand from my eyes. “Trust me, lassie.”

  His blue eyes, held mine, uncertain, vulnerable. I smiled and his eyes cleared as he smiled back. He hovered above me for a moment then his lips claimed mine.

  Untried feelings pulsed through my body and my nervousness seeped away. Embers low down, sparked, ignited and spread molten heat to my limbs. Duncan’s kisses deepened and I kissed him back, finding his tongue with mine. He groaned and his hands roamed the length of my body, rubbing, kneading.

  Dragging his lips from mine, he drew me to a sitting position. Kneeling behind me, he reached around and unclipped my belt and removed my arisaid then I felt his large fingers fumble with the row of tiny buttons that spanned the length of my spine.

  “Blast these buttons,” he muttered. I stifled a giggle as he finally freed the last one. He pulled me to my feet and the gown slid to the floor. I stood before him in chemise and petticoats. “Ah, Meara do ye ken how fine ye are to me, lass?” he breathed.

  His words warmed my face and I dipped my head.

  The petticoats and chemise soon joined my gown. A gentle touch slid down my bare legs. His hands glided over my body, barely skimming the surface. I reached for the bedpost, steadied myself as I felt my legs falter. My head lolled to the side as his lips traced a slow, burning path up my neck to stop and nuzzle at my ear.

  His whispered words caressed my senses. “Ye better take a breath soon, lassie, afore ye pass out.” He chuckled in my ear as I drew a deep, shaky breath.

  I looked up into his lazy eyes and he smiled down at me. Stepping up on my toes, I pulled his head down until his lips melded with mine. I moved slowly across his lips, tasting, caressing. The need in me grew though I knew not what I yearned for. Duncan’s own need pressed urgently at my belly and I slid my hand down and encircled him with my fingers, the rough cloth of his kilt providing only a thin barrier.

  “Ahh. Lord, lass,”he groaned.

  He pressed hard against my hand. I released him and with both hands, groped at the buckle of his belt. It sprang open in my hands and his kilt quickly topped the growing pile of clothing on the floor. He yanked off his plaid and shrugged from his jacket.

  For a long moment I stared at his unclothed body. I studied his wide shoulders and the dark hair that curled across his muscled chest and flat belly. I peered lower to where the curls thickened again and my face grew hot.

  “Oh,” I breathed and quickly looked back up into Duncan’s amused face.

  “Dinna be shy now, lassie.” Scooping me into his arms, he tenderly deposited me on the bed. The bed shifted as he joined me and I rolled toward him, my breasts brushing against his chest. His warm, calloused hand cupped first one, then the other breast. With gentle fingers, he kneaded the tips. I inhaled sharply as he bent his head, his warm mouth taking the place of his fingers.

  Wild sensations sparked behind my closed lids, as I pressed his head against me. His hand moved lower and I tilted up to meet him. His fingers found the slippery cleft between my legs and he gently stroked and explored while I squirmed beneath him.

  “Lord, Meara,” he growled as first one finger then two found the opening and slipped inside.

  “Oh, Duncan. Please.”

  He halted, his fingers still inside me. “Am I hurtin’ ye, lass?”

  I dragged my eyes open and focused on his concerned face. “Nay, Duncan,” I gasped, pressing his hand against me, feeling my body tighten around him, “dinna stop.”

  “Meara, I love ye, hiney,” he said and I could hear the smile in his voice.

  I smiled languidly, eyes closed, quite incapable of speech.

  His fingers continued their gentle probing. Then his other hand parted my thighs farther still and he rolled on top of me, his cock hard and hot against my inner thigh. He pressed against me, the velvety tip nudging. As comprehension dawned, I lifted my hips and he slowly started to push into me. I lay still while he worked it in then sucked a breath through my teeth at the hurt. His fingers tightened on my shoulders and he paused then pushed the last inch in hard and held it there tight inside me until I forgot the pain and wanted more.

  “Open yer eyes, lass,” he ordered through clenched teeth.

  My lids were tight and slowly I opened them. Blue eyes, stormed with passion, melted into mine. A thick rope of heat throbbed inside of me.

  “Does it hurt much, lass?” His voice was hoarse with restraint. I shook my head, not trusting my voice. He began to move again, slow short pumps, his eyes never leaving mine.

  My hips lifted from the bed, seeking his with an age-old cadence.

  A warm hand slid down, cupped my buttocks and pressed us closer still, fingers nudged in the cleft of my cheeks. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting him to fill me, wanting more.

  I was aware of nothing but the coil of tension that mounted inside. A roar filled my head and my heart throbbed at my ears as I reached, strained for something... something. I understood nothing, strength of will a memory. I heard animal whimpers as though from a distance while my body reached for the pinnacle. I balanced on a narrow precipice for what felt an eternity and knew that I was lost. Then I shuddered and my centre clenched and tightened fiercely around Duncan, drawing him deeper still. White light filled my vision as pulsing quivered through me and my loins contracted again and again. At once I was plummeting, falling, down, down, headlong into darkness. A ragged sob vibrated against my closed lips. Duncan groaned deeply
and a great flood of liquid heat filled me.

  He rested heavily atop me, skin slick next to mine. I gulped in mouthfuls of air.

  When did I forget to breathe and why am I shaking? I wondered lazily.

  Duncan lifted his head, his hazy eyes searching mine. “Are ye all right then, Meara?”

  “Oh aye, Duncan... aye,” I breathed, flexing my cramped fingers.

  He grinned at me, his dimple deep. Drowsily I smiled back, my limbs liquid and heavy.

  “Ye have a bonnie smile, Meara.” The gold in the blue of his eyes sparkled, a softness etched in the curve of his lips.

  I reached up and pressed my palm to his cheek and he closed his eyes and leaned into my hand. Then he scooped me into his arms and turned me until my back fit snug to his chest. His thighs pressed against the back of mine, his chin resting heavily on my shoulder.

  And we slept.

  ******

  Some time later I awoke with a start and Duncan stirred beside me. I felt him stiffen against my back and I smiled. Twisting around in his arms, I nuzzled his neck.

  “Duncan, would ye mind too much if we tried that agin?” I blurted. Lord did I really say that out loud? I ducked my head, hiding my hot face against the springy hair of his chest, mortified at my audacity.

  His chest rumbled and his body shook against me. “Ah, lassie, I love ye!” His lips brushed the top of my head. “I guess we can do it agin,” he sighed, “if we must.”

  I heard the tease in his voice and I giggled as he lifted me up and settled me on top of him.

  SIX

  A Dubious Alibi

  Mist cooled our faces as we wandered off the path and strolled by the thundering twin falls. Shafts of light, iridescent in the swirling vapour, danced an elusive waltz above the cascading waters. Three grey seals loafed in the sun far down the beach from the base of the falls while a group of bottlenose dolphins showed off, leaping through the air, their dorsal fins breaking the surface of the clear loch waters. I could almost feel the buoyant, cool water skim my body and I wanted nothing more than to shed my garments and join the dolphins in their joyous freedom.

  I inhaled, tasting the salt tang of sea air, the fresh of summer. “Mmm,” I murmured. I peered sideways at the droplets of mist that tipped Duncan’s lashes and reached up to kiss his damp cheek while we walked, hand in hand, back to our meeting spot.

  New feelings still rippled through me. A tender pulsing low down, at the junction of my legs, kept time with the rhythm of my heart. I smiled to myself and sighed.

  Duncan tugged on my hand, a roguish smile cutting deep his dimple. “Well, my lassie, ye do have good reason to look pleased with yerself. In fact I’m feelin’ rather pleased with ye as well.”

  “But... but it’s not me that I’m pleased with, Duncan,” I sputtered, suddenly mortified. “It’s you. I... I mean... weel... Bloody Christ!” Slapping my hand over my mouth, I felt my back grow warm.

  Duncan slapped his bare thigh, a deep howl erupting. “Ah hiney, yer like no other!” The laughter faded but a smile still danced in his eyes. “Do ye ken how happy ye’ve made me, my guidwife?”

  We slowed, coming to a stop. Duncan reached out and framed my face with his hands. Then he traced the bridge of my nose, my forehead. “I love yer freckles, Meara,” he smiled crookedly. I reached up, covering his hands with my own.

  Lord, how I loved this man, my husband! “I’m glad ye love them, lad, ‘cause I canna be rid of them and I ken ‘cause I’ve tried.” His eyes held mine, knowing me now in every way. On impulse, I reached up and pulled his head down. The morning spent in our wedding bed had awakened a hunger in me and I found myself wanting more. I sifted my fingers through the dark curls and plied his lips with hesitant kisses. A groan rumbled from Duncan’s throat and he cupped my buttocks, drawing me close. His want was clear through the layers of cloth that held us apart. My own body responded eagerly with an odd swell of numbing.

  Dragging my lips away, I whispered, “I love ye, sweet Duncan.”

  He dipped his head and nuzzled just below my ear. I shivered at his warm breath as his next whispered words jolted me back to reality.

  “We’re late, Meara.” He held up his pocket watch and I peered up at the western sky, noticing for the first time how low the sun was. “Rabbie and Mary’ll be waitin’ for ye, lass.” He looked down at me, his eyes heavy with regret. “I’m sorry, lassie, but Ranny and the rest of my men are waitin’ for me as well.”

  He straightened and looked ahead down the path. His mouth tightened and a scowl clouded his features. “It’s no right for me to be sendin’ ye back there, Meara!” Our pace quickened and his step was hard as he raked his long fingers through his hair, spiking ebony tufts in every direction, his straight brows gathered in frustration. “I dinna want ye at the mercy of that old hag any more!” The word “hag” ground out between his teeth and the muscles of his jaw bulged.

  I grabbed his arm, halting the troubled walk midstride. “Duncan, I’ll be fine,” I said firmly. “Dinna fash yerself about me. I can look after myself, ye ken. I’ll play the dutiful niece from now on, just as Deirdre wants.” The silver band encircling my finger drew my eye and I tossed Duncan a conspiratorial wink, “She’ll never ken, lad.”

  My words had the calming effect I’d intended. As Duncan’s shoulders relaxed, a muted pounding caused us both to turn. I was relieved to see Rabbie’s familiar, wiry figure round the bend of the worn path.

  My relief however, was short-lived as Rabbie stopped before us. Rivers of sweat poured down his pale face. His eyes were so wide that the whites framed the bright blue centre. Duncan placed a steadying hand on Rabbie’s heaving shoulder. “Whoa now, lad, what’s the trouble?”

  Sucking a deep breath, Rabbie blurted, “Laird Duncan, ye must get the mistress back the now!” Darting a look over his shoulder, he continued, “Master Sloan’s on his way from the castle.” He peered at me and said urgently, “Miss Meara, I dinna want yer auntie to lock ye up or knivvle ye agin if they find ye out here wi’ the Laird!” He glanced apologetically at Duncan then stared back at me with beseeching eyes.

  Duncan was quick to react as he took hold of my hand, “Come then!”

  We set off at an awkward run. The weight of my gown and my shorter legs did not deter Duncan from his purpose. I hopped three steps to each one of Duncan’s long strides as we followed the fleet-footed Rabbie back down the path.

  The cart came into view. Mary stood on the far side, at the edge of the grove of pines where they’d left me that morning, her round figure dark against the backdrop of the descending sun, her shadow long and deceptively lean. She shielded her eyes with her hand as she squinted down the slope toward the castle. I followed her line of vision and spied a distant, lone rider.

  At our noisy approach she whirled and immediately started scolding, a pudgy finger pointed accusingly at Duncan, “Well, lad, what’s to become of our lass the now? Ye’ve kept her far too long and now that clarty fool,” Mary jammed her thumb over her shoulder, “has been sent to find her.” Her finger stabbed through the air pointing back at me. “Deirdre’ll surely lock her up the now and there’s naught we can do about it.”

  Mary glanced back at me, dismay softening her anger. “Oh Lordy, Meara, here I am blethering at yer guidman and there ye stand, a brand new bride.” She reached out and grasped my upper arms, her eyes studying mine. “I’m sorry, my wee lass, are ye fine then?” she asked awkwardly, looking me over as if expecting to see some visible damage.

  I squirmed beneath the intense, blue stare. “Aye, Mary,” I choked, as heat crept up my cheeks. “I’m... I’m well.” What was I to say?

  She nodded absently, chewing her bottom lip, then she peered back over her shoulder, “Now then, what are we to do about that one?”

  As one, the three of us, Rabbie, Mary and I turned to Duncan, confident that he had a solution. He stared back at us for a moment. Then with narrowed eyes he scanned the distant, bobbing progress of Sloan through the we
aving of the trees. He glanced back at me then strode purposefully to the wagon but not before I’d seen the tell-tale crook of his mouth.

  What is he going to do now?

  Taking careful aim, Duncan delivered a powerful kick to one of the worn wheels that supported the wagon. Hannah’s gentle mare, Maggie, shied and snorted, exhaling loudly through her nose. Duncan spoke quietly to her and Rabbie moved to hold her head, murmuring gently near her ear. The long muscles of Duncan thighs tightened and bulged at the edge of his kilt as his booted foot again made contact with the silvery, weathered wood.

  Thinking that Duncan had perhaps lost his mind, I started forward as, with a groan, the wheel gave way and splintered from the axle. It teetered momentarily then fell, with a faint crunch, onto a bed of pine needles. Heavily laden with supplies, the wagon groaned and listed toward the empty space where the wheel had been. I gaped, waiting for the inevitable crash, but miraculously it halted, listing crazily in mid-air.

  Disbelief froze my vocal cords. Mary’s jaw hung slack, her lips rounded in a silent ‘Oh’. Rabbie just grinned at Duncan, his generous mouth wide, obviously privy to some secret joke.

  Baffled by the sheer lunacy of what I’d just witnessed, I looked to Duncan to see him standing with his arms crossed over his chest, looking more than a little proud of himself, his dimple dug deep, his grin wide. With legs spread he appraised his handiwork.

  “Och, I dinna think yer slow-witted uncle will ha’ cause to run back to yer auntie with any tales about ye the now, am I right lassie?”

  I looked back at the wheel where it lay, in all its innocence by the side of the road and things began to make sense. I looked back at Duncan’s grinning face and shook my head in admiration at his ingenuity. We now had an alibi, a reason for our tardiness. Sloan had nothing to tell Deirdre. Our wagon had broken down, plain and simple.

  This new husband of mine was wily indeed!

  Mary folded her hands atop her belly and chortled with glee, her chins quivering. “Well, Meara, ye’ve got a clever lad there.” Apparently she had forgiven Duncan.

 

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