The Scottish Lord’s Secret Bride

by Raven McAllan

  Fraser shrugged. He had no idea. ‘One can but hope.’ They reached a long flat part of the track, and he looked across to Morven. ‘We can move faster for a while if you want. My factor mentioned he’d galloped on this stretch the other day.’

  She grinned. ‘Oh let’s. I love it when there is no one around to scold me for being unladylike.’

  Fraser needed no more encouragement. With a whoop, he urged his horse on. Morven and Fancy kept pace and together they circled the loch until they slowed to trot through the hamlet—the few houses and the inn couldn’t really be called a village, even though a tiny kirk was no more than half a mile away—and onto the spare house. The hamlet had a tidy, welcoming feel to it, as if no one would remain a stranger there for long.

  ****

  Close up it was somewhere, Morven thought, which called to her. A typical four square Scottish dwelling of the upper classes, it had a sturdy roof set squat over its five storeys and its warm grey stones around the rows of windows were hardy and unlikely to crumble. The shutters were open and from one, chimney smoke swirled and drifted off towards the nearest hill. Inside a nearby cottage someone sang a Scottish ballad, and in field close by, a young lad whistled as he walked through the grass, a sheepdog at his heels.

  She stopped her horse and took her fill, Fraser and everything else forgotten as she enjoyed the vista before her. Fields with sheep in—evidently the awful clearances hadn’t impacted here—copses of trees, with farms and houses dotted nearby, and in the distance mile upon mile of forest. Heather covered slopes and beyond them the mountains. All interspersed with the bright glint of water where rivers and lochs showed.

  ‘I could live around here,’ she said impulsively. ‘It has a good feel to it, and the house? Oh I love it. It’s as if it is ready to welcome someone into its embrace. Someone who will love it and care for it. Lord how fanciful do I sound, but it is heartfelt.’

  ‘Maybe I should forget Mama and offer it to you?’ Fraser said as he lifted her from her horse’s back. ‘Let you live here.’

  Morven gathered up her reins and walked ahead as she urged Fancy forward. ‘So you can visit me as and when? No thank you.’

  He chuckled as they led their horses around the back of the house to where they could be unsaddled and tied up with food and water. ‘I hadn’t thought of it quite like that. Shall we keep it as a bolthole?’

  Oh if only they could. ‘Sadly it wouldn’t be that easy, would it? It’s not like we could nip out for an hour and chat here.’

  He grinned as he put their saddles over a stable door. ‘I didn’t have chatting in mind, but you are as ever correct and an hour would never be long enough. Come on, let’s go and see what state it is in. I had the caretaker light fires in the lounge and bedroom and leave us some lunch in the pantry. I didn’t want anyone around.’ He took her hand and helped her over the grass-covered uneven cobbles. ‘This still needs some work.’

  ‘So you knew I’d come?’ She ignored the remark about the cobbles; it needed no response. His remark about her did. Was she so predictable?

  Fraser looked at her quizzically. ‘I hoped you would. I knew I’d need to have a look around, for it’s several months since I’ve had the opportunity to ride here. Before that I was away from it so many years. It’s taken effort and demands, and coercion to get it as I hope it should be. Birds’ nests removed, a new chimney, and the others swept, cracked windowpanes replaced and a door fitted so it doesn’t screech like a banshee when it is opened. That sort of thing. Nothing major but all annoying and all that should have been attended to whilst I was away. The factor was not doing his job, and told Mama what he thought she would accept. He’s not here to do so now. I pensioned him off and Archie Retson took over.’

  ‘He’s better?’

  ‘He is,’ Fraser confirmed. ‘Born and brought up on Kintrain and more than capable. I would have thought my papa would have noticed Beattie was failing, but then Papa and Beattie, the old factor, had known each other since childhood. Beattie couldn’t cope but instead of saying so and asking for help he struggled on.’ They reached the door, and Fraser produced a key from his pocket. ‘Ready?’

  She nodded. He didn’t want to hear it again, she was sure, but he was a good man.

  ‘Fraser it is amazing, truly. If your mama does not like it, then something is wrong with her,’ Morven said as they walked through rooms where every footstep echoed and their voices sounded loud in the empty space. Sincerity rang in her tone as they moved out of what she declared could be the perfect room to use to sew or dream. Small, south-facing and with a view of the loch and the hills she’d said she had fallen in love with it immediately, even though the only contents were several flies in one of the largest cobwebs she had ever seen.

  ‘Not my favourite companions,’ she said as the web swayed gently in the air. ‘I always imagine getting caught in one and suffocating.’ She cast an apologetic look in Fraser’s direction. ‘Silly female that I am, no doubt, but can you either dispose of it, or could we move on?’

  ‘As I’ve nothing to dispose of it with, unless I throw my jacket at it, we’ll go and leave the spiders to their supper.’

  Morven shuddered. ‘Now that picture will stay in my mind for an age.’

  Fraser hugged her and kissed her cheek in a most avuncular manner. ‘Shall I give you something else to think about?’ The pseudo-leer that accompanied his question was anything but platonic.

  Morven slanted him a glance from under her eyelashes but didn’t reply. They made their way past the room Fraser had intimated he thought should be the dining room, back to the one semi-furnished bedroom, and once more stood by the window.

  ‘You didn’t reply. Shall I?’

  She laughed. ‘You do that simply by being near.’

  ‘Oh good.’ He took her hand and traced the veins along the back. ‘Well before I get, ahem, nearer, what do you think of it all, honestly?’

  A fire blazed in the grate, the windows sparkled and the long velvet curtains that dressed them spoke of warmth and intimacy. ‘What is there not to like—honestly?’ Morven said sincerely. ‘It is well kept, pretty, the perfect size for your mama and your siblings and everything about it works. All you need is more furniture.’ She held her fingers in the air and counted as she moved away from the window and into the centre of the room.

  Near the bed.

  ‘Two maybe three weeks of work, and it will be ready for more than one person to live here.’

  ****

  When he’d said the house was unfurnished, Fraser had fibbed a little. As well as the bed there was a table and two scrubbed chairs in the kitchen, an armchair and side table in the lounge and a dresser in the bedroom along with the bed and a washstand. He’d even made sure the bed did have bedding, and brought a couple of towels and a change of clothes over, so if he did stay the night he could wash and feel clean.

  As Morven trailed her hand over the blue and cream Napier tartan spread he was glad he had made an effort with what little furniture there was. Even if she never came here again, he could now imagine her in this room. Use his imagination and think how it would be if she stretched out on the bed, lifted her arms in the air, beckoned to him and spoke in her soft arousing tones…

  ‘Fraser, come to me, make love with me, please?’

  He blinked and almost rubbed his eyes. Either he was hallucinating, or Morven was doing exactly as he imagined. Had he spoken out loud? Surely not?

  ‘Can you read my mind?’ he asked hoarsely. ‘Or am I vocalising my fantasy?’

  ‘Neither,’ she said with a smile that shot straight to his groin. ‘But I hope you can read my thoughts.’

  So did he. Fraser moved to the side of the bed and ran his finger down her arm. ‘Are you sure?’

  She shivered and desire clouded her eyes. ‘Very sure.’

  ‘Then maybe we should be naked to make it easier.’ His voice shook and he wondered what she heard in it. Need? Hopes? Aspirations? Greed?

 
‘Oh definitely naked,’ Morven said softly in a voice that curled his toes. ‘Not just to make it easier, but so I can see you, store up memories for later.’

  She sounded melancholy, and Fraser gave in to impulse. He pulled her into his arms and then let himself drop back onto the bed with her on top of him. ‘Oh we will make memories all right.’ With a lingering kiss to Morven’s temple, he rolled over so she was under him and began to undo the buttons down the front of her jacket. ‘Sweet ones. Hot ones, exciting and arousing ones.’

  As each fastening opened, and he pushed the sides of the jacket apart, soft milky bare skin was revealed. Fraser let his breath out in a long agonised hiss. ‘Do you have anything on under this?’

  Morven smiled and patted his cheek. ‘Not unless you count stockings and garters.’

  Fraser paled. ‘Good Lord, woman, you’ll be the death of me. It’s as well I didn’t know that up the hill,’ he said in a strangled voice. ‘We’d not have got past the lookout point.’

  ‘Then I’m glad I didn’t mention it then. I fancied a bed and you.’ She wriggled back and forth on the silky sheet, beckoned him closer and pouted like the most annoying debutante until he laughed and pinched her ear.

  ‘No need to make faces; I’m happy to oblige, my love, but give me strength. Those erotic movements are guaranteed to send me over the edge.’ He dispensed with her jacket and turned to the tiny row of frogging and buttons that went from the waist to the hem of her skirt.

  ‘Novel,’ he commented, as he slid a finger under the waistband, ‘and far too many.’ He stroked the skin he could reach and was rewarded by her low moan.

  ‘You only need to undo the first five or so,’ Morven assured him, huskily. ‘Then it will slide off.’

  ‘Perhaps you could oblige me and do that whilst I dispense with my boots?’ Fraser asked her in a gravelly voice. ‘My hands are shaking and I’m fumbling. Plus, it could help us to be skin to skin so much faster. For if you don’t mind, I will attend to my breeches. I’m sure if your fingers go under the waistband, my control will go and so will my chances of filling you.’

  ‘Then by all means you do it,’ Morven said rapidly. ‘I need you in me, not all over yourself.’

  He needed that as well.

  Fraser watched with a dry mouth as Morven sat up, took her jacket off and then slid her skirt lower until she lay supine and naked in front of him. Never had his fingers felt so thick and ungainly as he struggled to strip. Fraser swore under his breath as his feet decided not to leave the haven of his boots without brute force, his cock snagged on his breeches, and his shirt on his hair.

  Morven chuckled. ‘Butterfingers.’ She was ready long before him. Her loosened hair curled around her shoulders and teased her nipples, as she sat back against the pillows and watched him bright-eyed and avid. ‘What is holding you?’

  He looked down at his throbbing cock and smiled wryly. ‘He is, or was. Now? Nothing except my desire to make everything perfect. Sadly I have no wine or flowers, no music playing in the background. All I have is my body with which to worship you.’

  ‘Your body is all I want. I don’t need fancy trappings. This—’ she waved her hand to encompass both him and the room ‘—is all that is necessary. Everything I crave.’

  ‘Then you shall have everything you desire.’ Fraser took the three steps necessary to reach the foot of the bed and clambered up until he knelt at her feet. ‘If my memory doesn’t fail me, I have an idea you will squirm and beg for mercy if I do this.’ He ran the nail of his index finger across the sole of her foot. The skin was nowhere near as soft as he expected, until he remembered her propensity to go barefoot whenever possible.

  Fraser flicked the underside of her big toe with his finger and reversed his touch to scratch his way back to her heel. Morven arched up off the bed with a scream and shook as he tormented the other arch in the same way.

  ‘Fraser, no it is… Oh no, you fiend, nooo.’ She collapsed back onto the bed in feverish laughter as he moved his hands and knelt back on his haunches.

  ‘What?’ he said innocently. ‘What did I do?’

  ‘Ha, you know and just for that…’ Morven grabbed his wrist, pulled him forward and rolled to one side so he fell flat on the bed, not on her. Then she rolled him over and put her hands to his ribs. ‘If I remember rightly you will squirm and squeal like a stuck pig if I do this.’

  She started to tickle him. Her fingers dug into his skin and Fraser wriggled and edged further way. He began to laugh helplessly, as she followed him across the sheets. Morven walked her fingers higher and feathered them over the soft skin of his underarms. Fraser squirmed. ‘Lord, love, no more or, oh, you devil, this is war.’ He twisted and brought her on top of him. She moved and reversed the positions, her fingers still busy as she attempted to make him squeal.

  Such light-heartedness had been in short supply lately. Fraser gave in to the sheer pleasure of just being. Of enjoying himself without any thoughts of the morrow.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘Well now, let me see…’ He grinned, grunted and bent upwards, his intent to dislodge her and give him the upper hand. His staff prodded her belly and they both froze until he reversed his arch and his cock slid between them to tease her mound.

  Morven gulped. ‘Ah, I think we might need to change where we are.’

  ‘You want to be on top?’ He grinned. ‘I’m more than agreeable.’ It had worked well for them in the past; there was no reason to suspect otherwise now.

  She gurgled and her eyes twinkled. ‘Well yes, that could work perfectly, but that was not what I meant. I fear if we don’t go back the way we came the next move would be downward.’

  ‘Pardon? Go home now?’ Why would she think that? Was it all too much? Hateful or hurtful? Fraser struggled to speak and not show his dismay. Damn she has to want this, has to. ‘You think that?’

  ‘Go home? What are you talking about?’ Morven frowned and sounded mystified. Then her face cleared and she shifted one hand to lift it up to his cheek and patted the hair-roughened skin. ‘Lord I hope not. I meant across the mattress. There is no carpet on this side of the bed.’ She rolled slightly. ‘Splinters. In your arse. Or mine. Not pleasant.’

  Fraser moved one leg to steady them. Instead of silky sheets he felt fresh air. He looked to his right and realised they were perched so near to the edge of the bed that a sneeze or a cough could send them over and onto the floor. As Morven intimated, the wooden planks were bare.

  ‘Hmm, I see your point. Hold on.’ He entwined their legs together, took hold of her firmly and began to roll back the way they had come. In a mix of pale female skin and sun-kissed male they tangled together. Her hair, which she sometimes thought had a mind of its own, swung out around them like a cape of shining midnight sky.

  ‘Fraser,’ Morven shrieked as he kissed her ear, her nose and any other place he could reach, until they were in the middle of the bed, the mattress fluffed up around them like a cloud and Morven firmly on top of him. Her tresses teased his skin.

  ‘I am now, as you see,’ Fraser said as he put one of her palms flat onto his chest, and curled the fingers of her other hand around his staff, ‘in your hands.’ He fastened three fingers into her hair to hold her in place and waited with bated breath to discover what she would say or do next.

  Morven tilted her head to one side considering, careful he imagined to move in such a way that his hands were not pulling harder and licked her lips. ‘So I can feel.’ Her fingers tightened around his cock. ‘Very nicely so.’

  Oh yes. Fraser put his other hand on her waist and held her there. ‘You did say you enjoyed riding all those years ago?’

  ‘Yes, so?’ She looked puzzled and then blushed. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh and so, how are your skills these days?’ Fraser asked her urbanely. ‘Have you honed them or forgotten all you learned?’

  ‘Let’s see, shall we.’ Morven lifted her hand from his chest and wrapped it around his cock below the one with which she alr
eady encircled him.

  Fraser let go of her hair and smiled slightly. ‘All yours with nothing to hinder you.’ He was more than interested to see what she would do.

  Morven lifted herself onto her knees and oh so carefully guided him inside to the entrance of her channel. ‘Thank the Lord. Hindrances would not be helpful.’ She hovered and he could see the effort it took her to hold steady.

  Fraser’s heart missed a beat as he held himself motionless. He wanted to shout, to thrust up into her and move, but this was her time.

  ‘Now I wonder what will be the best… Ah yes, like this I think.’ Morven licked her finger and put it to his mouth. He sucked and pulled it between his lips. She sighed. ‘Oh my. And now…’ She slid down him, inch by slow inch. Not until he was buried deep to his bollocks did she do any more. Then she wriggled. That was almost enough to send him cross-eyed with the effort not to come. All he felt, all he was aware of was Morven, her scent, her heat, and the effect it had on him. Never before had he experienced such a sense of being overwhelmed, of scarcely holding on to his wits. He thought he was in command of all he ever did. Now he understood how wrong he was.

  ‘Oh I remember,’ Morven said in a sultry, erotic voice that spoke of long hot nights and luscious couplings. ‘Now I do…’ She paused, tightened her inner muscles and pinched each of his nipples to the point of pain. ‘Now I do…this.’ She lifted off him until only the very tip of his shaft remained inside her and then pushed, fast and hard.

  He swore his eyes crossed. Stars danced under his eyelids and she wavered in front of him. Then she moved again. Up and down, fast and slow, hard and gentle. It was no good, no it was too good. His brain was scrambled. Fraser thought of icy cold rivers, tripe—he hated the stuff—tree frogs, anything to stave off the explosion he knew was oh so near.

  Morven began to pant as his cock filled and he knew it was the point of no return for him.

  ‘I have to…’ He retained his wits enough to rub her clitoris and pinch it in the manner he remembered she enjoyed. Fraser bit his lip to concentrate on her and not his impending climax. It was a close run thing who shuddered and screamed first. He thought, hoped, she had beaten him to it. His heartbeat echoed hers as it thundered in his ears. It was several heart-stuttering moments later Fraser realised something important. Mouth hollow he swallowed and uttered words he never thought he would hear himself say.