As a child of the MacLerie laird, the Earl of Douran, who owned huge amounts of land and commanded one of the largest fighting forces in the Highlands, Lilidh knew his reputation and his true skills and temperament. And she knew her place in his world, exactly how she fit into his scheme of things and plans. She also knew that her father would never start a war for her.
Yet, in a way, that’s exactly what Rob had said he had done over her.
In laying the blame at her feet, Rob forced her to think about the true relationship she had with her father and his past actions regarding her. Though she’d always thought of herself as a chattel in his world, valued and respected, but a chattel none the less, Rob’s claim gave her pause now. And hope.
Not that she wanted war—she did not want that. But the fact that her father considered her feelings and the treatment she’d received at Rob’s hands to be important enough to not only part ways but to break up their alliance—what did that mean now? Would he fight to get her back? Pitch his clan and their allies against Rob to bring her home?
She rolled to her side, moving off her bad leg, and tucked her hand under her head. Would sleep never come? She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. At least if she could seek her rest before he got into the bed, there might be a chance of avoiding the discomfiture of such a situation. When he began to move around the chamber, putting out candles and lanterns and then banking the flames in the hearth, she knew no way to avoid the coming situation.
Feigning sleep would be her only way. She forced her breaths to come at a slow and deep pace. Letting her body fall limp, she concentrated on not thinking about Rob, the first and only man who had touched her intimately, as he undressed and climbed into bed with her. Though he let several layers of bedcovers remain between them, her body reacted as if their naked flesh touched.
Trying again not to think about those matters, she counted the seconds of each inhalation and exhalation. Would concentrating on that distract her from the memories? But, then, as these things do, trying not to think about them simply brought them back more quickly and stronger than she could avoid.
Their last time together.
She’d sought him out in the cave they discovered in the forest outside Lairig Dubh. They met there often, sharing moments of privacy and daring all sorts of scandalous intimacies for which her father would have beaten her if he’d known. But they were in love, going to marry, so Lilidh allowed him some measure of liberty in touching and caressing her. His kisses were wicked things and she never would have imagined that a touching of the lips could be so exciting.
This day Rob dared more than before, making her body ache for every touch. Tension had built to unimaginable levels inside her and she knew Rob caused it—and could relieve it somehow if he would. As her body blossomed under his hand, he unlaced her gown, moved her shift down and touched his mouth there, kissing a sensuous path towards her breasts.
He slid his hand inside and teased the tautened tip of her breast with his thumb before taking it into his mouth! Her body shook at each caress and when his teeth tightened down on the sensitive tip, she screamed out, in surprise and excitement.
His laugh as he did these things was as wicked as what he did to her. Making her a creature she did not recognise. Making her want to allow him to do even more … To take the final step and join their bodies now.
‘Hush, now,’ he whispered. Though his words seemed aimed to calm things between them, his hand never stopped touching her breasts. ‘We do not want to alert anyone that we are here, my love.’
Lilidh shook her head and could not gather any words together in that moment, for all she could do was feel the terrifying yet exhilarating way her heart raced and her skin heated. When his hand moved down over her gown and began to slide up her leg, she stopped breathing altogether.
She had not realised her eyes were closed until she’d opened them and found him staring at her. Lilidh lifted her hand and touched his face. His eyes burned with desire for her and she waited for seemingly unending moments until she felt his fingers touch the top of her thighs. He swirled them in circles, gently teasing her until her legs fell open.
Gasping as he moved ever deeper into that private place, she grabbed for his wrist to stop him. This could not be right. Could it?
‘Sweet Lilidh,’ he whispered. ‘Do you wish me to stop now? Or can I show you the pleasure that can be between a man and the woman he loves?’
The devil lived on earth and his name was Rob Matheson.
Though she understood about how a man and woman joined—no one could live in a place such as Lairig Dubh and not understand it—no one had ever told her that this … this pleasurable touching was part of it. Or mayhap this was the part parents warned young women about when discussing the protection of their virtue? One touch and every warning ever heard melted away as the need for more burned through her body and soul.
‘More,’ she begged and he did. More. And kept doing more, proving his hand as wicked as his mouth, until that tension built so strong and so tight in her core that it had to break.
Her body arched and tightened and he relentlessly caressed her, until every bit of that splendid tension spilled out, leaving her empty and yet full at the same time.
And even now, four years later, her body still remembered his touch and wanted more.
If she continued to move and to breathe like that, he was going to lose control and take her once and for all.
Rob listened in the dark and Lilidh’s breathing grew tight and tense. If she was dreaming, did she picture her husband pleasuring her? If awake, did she remember Iain’s caresses now? Even a fool or madman would recognise the way she breathed, the way her body responded to being touched and caressed and … more.
Even his body reacted to hers—he hardened and begged for attention. Her attention. Her body. To finish the pleasure they’d begun all those years ago when she was to be his. A moan, one barely loud enough to be heard, whispered across the bed between them.
‘More,’ she whispered in a low, husky voice.
Rob bit his tongue to keep from saying anything. She must be dreaming. She must be. Even knowing that Iain must be at the centre of her thoughts did not lessen his burning desire for her. His hands itched to reach over and touch her as he used to, when they loved. When he loved her.
How had her body changed since he’d touched her? How would it feel to move between her legs and fill the place that would make her his completely? They’d both had other lovers since last they met and now the act of joining would hold no fear and only pleasure for them. To see how the promise of passion in her had matured was something he’d thought about since their parting. Especially when the memories of their time together and how she had responded to his touch and his mouth haunted him in the nights alone.
Lilidh would be magnificent in the throes of pleasure. She shifted once more now, her hips lifting and lowering, and he almost begged her then. Just as his hand reached out to touch her face, she turned towards him and opened her eyes.
Glazed over with desire and pleasure, she searched his face as though she did not know him. Then, her gaze cleared and he could tell the moment when the circumstances and his identity returned to her. She moved away from him so quickly, he could not reach for her in time.
Her body slid over the side of his bed and hit the floor with a thud. The groan told him she’d landed on her injured leg. He moved across the bed and got out quickly, trying to help her to her feet, but she resisted, pulling back and tugging free of him from her place on the floor. Finally, he released her hand, knowing she must be embarrassed now that she understood he’d witnessed her dream.
Witnessed it? Hell, his body wanted to be part of whatever dream she was having. His arousal could not be mistaken if she’d seen it. Her wide eyes and opened mouth as she climbed to her feet said she had.
‘Here, now,’ he said, leaning over to help her stand. ‘Did you hurt yourself?’ Once she stood, he moved away, seeking the
jug of ale on the table. They could both use something to drink, so he filled two cups and held one out to her. She shook her head, pulled a blanket free from the bed and sat in the chair near the now-cold hearth.
‘I will be fine,’ she said, her voice quivering as though she was ready to cry. Oh, God, no tears, please!
Had she grieved for her husband? Did these dreams remind her of happier times in their marriage? They could not have been wed more than two or three months if Iain passed about a month ago. How much could she have loved him by then?
Rob remembered the day he received word of her betrothal to Iain MacGregor. He got drunk, very drunk, and came up with plans for how to stop the marriage. And they were good plans, too. Luckily, he sobered up the next day and knew it meant that he and Lilidh would never be together.
Well, he needed this ale now and he finished the full cup before stopping or facing her. When he turned back, she sat staring sightlessly into the empty hearth.
Deciding to give her the time she needed to deal with the memories that assaulted her now, Rob went back to bed. Minutes turned into hours and still she sat in the chair not speaking, not seeing, not sleeping either. When, about three hours later, her head began to nod and then dropped, he climbed from the bed and carried her to it.
His mind wandered the rest of the night as she slept quietly now in his bed. The advice she’d given him about what to do next swirled around in his thoughts with memories of her crying out in satisfaction the last time they were together. The way that she had begged him for more when he’d stopped touching her.
The way she had begged for more.
His body reacted before he realised that she was not remembering Iain in her dreams—she was remembering him.
He would find her another place to sleep in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
Lilidh woke with a start and discovered herself in Rob’s bed again. Looking around the chamber, she found him gone, along with the documents and the large trunk that held more of them. She fell back on the pillow and tried not to think of how she’d humiliated herself last night.
The blood of a harlot must run in her veins from some long-ago, long-forgotten ancestor. At least that would explain the shameful display that had happened to her in Rob’s bed, with him listening and watching. His nearness, her injuries and isolation and whatever else excuse she could draw on would be her defence. But it was her heart that was the real reason for her lapse in behaviour and her loss of control.
She had been so caught up in the memories that she never realised he was watching or that she’d said something aloud until she opened her eyes and saw him staring at her. Even now her cheeks burned as she remembered the look in his eyes at that moment.
It was the same one that she had seen there all those years ago when he had introduced her to the intensity that could be between them.
The night before he renounced her before her family because of the imperfection of her maimed leg. The night when she had thought her dreams of marrying the man she loved would come true. The night before she lost her innocence when she wanted to lose her virtue.
Well, this self-pity and embarrassment would get her nowhere this morn, so she pushed the covers back and dressed. She expected Beathas and Siusan would be arriving shortly. So, when the door opened, she turned from straightening the bed to greet one or the other.
Rob stood in the sin-revealing light of day and watched as she smoothed the bedcovers in place.
Words fled as she tried to think of what to say to him this morn, when the memories of their passion and his betrayal and her body’s scandalous reactions were all very fresh in her mind. So she waited for him to speak instead.
‘We are moving to another chamber,’ he said, as he walked to one of his trunks and opened it. Searching inside for something and not finding it, he moved to the next one and repeated his actions. ‘The last chamber on the left,’ he said, now searching through several leather sacks.
He stared in her direction and when she nodded her understanding of his directions, he continued. ‘You cannot walk in the corridor any longer. Many from the outlying villages are moving into the keep for protection and the elders will be using these rooms.’
‘You have heard back from my father, then?’ she finally asked.
‘The messenger said he received my demands and is sending his reply,’ Rob said.
A shiver made her body tremble. They both knew what that meant—and it wasn’t that gold was on the way. Lilidh knew that gave them at least week, but not much more than that.
‘What should I do?’ she asked, waving her hand towards the trunks and furnishings in his chamber.
‘Stay out of the way until you’re told to move down the corridor.’
And with that one command, he was gone.
It did not take long for the servants, and guards, to arrive to move Rob’s belongings. She remained in the chair, watching them, until the guard named Tomas ordered her to come along. Lilidh was almost to the last chamber near the stairs to the battlements when the door to the room next to it opened and Lady Tyra stepped out.
Tyra examined her from head to toe and her expression turned to one of disgust, as though she’d stepped her precious new slipper into something the horses dropped behind them. Part of her could understand the lady’s anger now that she understood Tyra’s relationship to Rob, but she should know that Lilidh had little or no control over her stay here.
‘Is this your chamber, Lady Tyra?’ Lilidh asked. The lady’s gasp drew the attention of everyone in the now-busy corridor.
‘Do not speak to me, you harlot!’ she replied. The slap—though with her hand closed in a fist, it felt more like a punch—that accompanied the insult was the surprise. ‘You may warm his bed and see to his baser needs, but do not think yourself worthy to speak to me.’
Lilidh recoiled from the blow and touched her cheek. She felt Tomas at her back, but pushed away from him. Truth be told, Lilidh had a higher standing as the daughter of an earl and laird than Tyra did. She should be glad that Lilidh deigned to speak to her!
‘Guard! Get her out of my sight!’ Tyra called out. Tomas moved forwards, taking Lilidh by the arm and leading her away.
‘And worry not, whore,’ Tyra whispered so only Lilidh could hear. ‘Your days in his bed are numbered.’
The venom in her voice sent shards of ice and fire and terror through Lilidh. When Lilidh turned back to look at her face as Tomas dragged her the few paces to Rob’s new chambers, Tyra’s expression was blank. If one was just looking at her now, it would be impossible to believe the ugly words and tone she’d just spoken in to Lilidh. Tomas pushed her inside and closed the door, leaving her alone. Had she imagined the hatred and danger in the woman’s words? Somehow she thought not.
Looking around her new quarters, she found a chamber twice the size of Rob’s previous one. More of a surprise was the small cot in one corner, not far from the huge rope-strung bed that dominated the entire room. This one was much more like the one her parents shared—large enough for two and his business as laird, yet made more comfortable by small personal touches.
Rob’s father’s?
Seeing a basin and a bucket of water, she dipped a cloth in the water and placed it on her face, allowing the coolness to soothe the place where Tyra had struck her. Then she stayed out of the way while the servants completed the move of Rob’s belongings here. And hers, it seemed, since one of her trunks also appeared with the others. When had that been retrieved?
Unable and unwilling to sit idly by while the servants worked to organise the chambers according to Rob’s preferences, she found the basket of garments to be repaired, gathered some threads and a needle and sat working. She did not miss the gossip that the women especially began whispering as they worked. Lilidh kept her head down as though she did not hear them, letting them sink back into the invisibility in which servants usually existed.
Lilidh discovered several interesting things from the ser
vants over the hour or so that they worked there.
This had, indeed, been Rob’s father’s chamber when he was alive and Rob had refused to use it until now.
Rob’s cousin Symon had kidnapped her without Rob’s consent.
The last thing was the worst—they all expected to be dead once her father arrived.
Having the reputation that her father had and having earned most of it was a distinct advantage in war. Lilidh understood that. But to hear these people speak of their deaths so openly was horrible. Her father did not simply put innocents to death—his enemy in this would suffer, not them. For now, she chose not to correct their mis-assumptions, for they were a distinct advantage for her father and hopefully would bring this all to a peaceful close.
And then she would be returned to her parents to be given away again, leaving the only man she had ever loved behind once more. In spite of the horror at his earlier actions and the desperate anger and dejection at his disavowal, she could not deny that she had loved him and only him so far in her life.
If she was the cause of the breach between her father and him, and considering this latest insult in kidnapping her, she and Rob would have no possible chance now. His only choice was to expose and disavow Symon’s actions as that of a renegade and turn him over to the MacLeries for their punishment and she understood that Rob would never do that. He was trying to be a good leader to his clan—as good a laird as he thought her father and his had been.
Once the servants had left and Siusan had brought her more sewing to do, she thought about the letter once more. Maybe Rob would find one of the elders who knew more about it? This day passed slowly, the noisiness outside increased from the number of people using the chambers nearby and she wondered what her father would indeed do about her.
‘What happened before this letter, Murtagh?’ Rob asked.
Though he would rather speak to one of the other elders, one who supported him, it turned out that Murtagh might be the only one who knew what had been going on those months ago. Now, after trying to evade speaking with him in private, the man shrugged.
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