Highland Chieftain

by Hannah Howell

  She looked at Colin who was now almost completely healed with few obvious bruises. He had been such a mess even when he began working again. She still could not understand how nothing could be broken but silently thanked God for that gift. His ribs had been badly bruised though, causing him a lot of pain. He did not even look at Kerr now, treating the man as if he were not even there. Bethoc feared for him each time Kerr was home. She thought the other boys did as well, for they answered Kerr far too quickly when he asked something.

  “Ah, ye are thinking of your mon,” said Colin as he sat down beside her.

  “I dinnae have a mon,” she muttered and the tingle of a blush rushed over her face as the other boys laughed.

  “Mayhap I should go to see this mon ye say ye dinnae have.”

  “Nay. It wouldnae be a good idea to have too many people going to the cave. Too great a chance of someone seeing us. He isnae healed enough to face the men who attacked him and they are looking for him.”

  “It has been a long time.”

  “Eleven weeks.” And she had missed him, only able to make fleeting visits because of her worry about Colin and then her concern that her father may have dragged them into something very dangerous.

  “That isnae good, is it?” Bean asked as he sat down on her other side. “Shouldnae he be better?”

  “Oh, he is better, but he did break his leg. The bone needs to heal.” She frowned. “And I promised him I had something better to put on his leg. I really need to do that.” She stood up. “I think I actually have the time today.”

  “Leave wee Margaret here. She is having fun and I can watch o’er her,” said Colin.

  Bethoc was about to refuse the offer when Margaret smiled at Colin. If the child was happy to stay, perhaps it really was time to loosen the ties a little bit. There was no doubt in her mind that Colin would keep Margaret safe from their father. He had proven himself already.

  She nodded and went to collect her things. Bethoc selected the carefully cut slats of wood and stuffed the long cloth strips into her bag. For a moment she paused to test the weight of the wood to be certain it was as light as she had imagined. Satisfied, she shoved them into the bag as well and then began to load up a basket with food. That was something she was sure he was running out of.

  After making certain her father was not returning, she hurried away. This time there was no sign that his friends had been there and yet she suspected they had been. She was embarrassed to admit that over the last weeks she had not taken the time to ask about them.

  Once at the cave, she slipped inside, covered the entrance, and turned to look at Callum. He grinned at her and she was immediately suspicious. There was an air of mischievousness about him. She walked over, put down her things, and then sat down next to him.

  “No Margaret?” he asked.

  “Colin is watching her again. He is finally weel enough to manage her e’en when she is playing so he doesnae e’en have to get any of the others to help him.”

  “Ah, so all healed.”

  “The last bruise I was concerned about has faded away.” She touched her forehead just above her right eye. “I feared it could prove worse than his badly bruised ribs.”

  “Aye, ’tis a bad place to be wounded. So ye can stay longer this time?”

  “I have come to redo your bandages. I was just wondering why ye look so pleased with yourself.”

  “I made my friends fetch me a lot of water and had myself as proper a bath as ye can have with only buckets to work with.”

  “Ye didnae get your bandages all wet, did ye?”

  “Nay so I suspicion it is a wee bit rank under there.” He grimaced. “It was a sore temptation to just rip them all off and scrub it but I resisted.”

  “Thank mercy for that.” She pulled the boards and strips of cloth out of her bag. “Ye best sit verra still for these though it shouldnae hurt at all.”

  She took off the sticks and carefully unwrapped his leg. When she removed the last of the bandages, she studied his leg for a moment and then gently bathed it. As she patted it dry she took the chance to feel the bone.

  “I dinnae feel any sign of the break,” she said. “’Tis staying in place and that can only be a good sign. I think we may be close to it being completely healed.”

  “It is looking a wee bit withered and pale,” he said, grimacing at the difference between it and his unbroken leg.

  “Aye, and will probably be quite weak for a while e’en after it heals.”

  After wrapping his leg just once again, Bethoc carefully placed the wood around his leg, laying the strip of cloth underneath and having him help hold some in place. Once she had tied the top and bottom she began to wrap another long strip of cloth around the whole thing as tightly as she could and tied it off. She studied it, thinking it looked a bit messy, but it was holding.

  “How is that? Does it hurt?”

  “Nay. ’Tis fine.” He frowned. “Why do ye think this is better?”

  “Because it covers all the part of the leg that is broken. I thought t’would mean less chance of wobbling and, mayhap, damaging what has begun to heal. Colin is making something in a thick, hard leather that ye will be able to use soon.” She looked at him. “I confess, I am nay sure about all of this, but it worked weel for when Colin broke his arm.”

  “If it worked for Colin’s arm, t’will work fine for my leg.” He patted the bed. “Come sit.”

  She did and settled in comfortably beside him when he put his arm around her shoulders. “So, have your friends accomplished much?”

  “Nay as much as they would like but they are getting close to success.”

  “What are they looking for besides the men?”

  “Some proof of their crimes. They would like to take them to the magistrate and know they will be punished. We could punish them ourselves but then ye have to explain what ye did and why. If ye come up against someone trying to make his mark or who is verra precise in how he interprets the law, explanations and justifications are nay easy.”

  Bethoc shook her head. “It all sounds much too confusing.”

  “Aye, it can require a lot of dancing about, cajoling, subtle threatening, and the like.” He turned her face up to his. “I am a master of the subtle threat.”

  Laughing, she slipped her arms around his neck. “Are ye now? I am nay sure that is something ye should be so proud of. Would it nay be easier just to tell the truth?”

  “Och, aye, but I have seen an innocent mon dragged to the gallows, proclaiming his innocence with every step. No one would heed him and he hanged. What troubled me most was no one cared about the man they killed when they found the truly guilty one. And that is a dark tale when I have a bonnie wee lass in my arms.”

  Despite all her efforts to control it, Bethoc knew she was blushing. Compliments were not something she dealt with well, having received so few in her life. A grunt of satisfaction for the meal she served was as close as she got. Before she could even think of what to say, he kissed her.

  This was why she missed him so when she had to stay away, she decided. The companionship was wonderful, but his kisses were what she hungered for. She readily opened her mouth to welcome his tongue, that soft ache he always caused growing more demanding. Her body wanted something but she did not know what, knew only that she had to get closer.

  When he pulled her onto his lap, she was startled but his kisses soothed her. She adjusted herself and straddled him as he kissed her throat. The way he bit her gently then softened the sting with strokes of his tongue had her trembling in his arms. When he kissed her again, she dared to parry the thrusts of his tongue with hers. His hold on her tightened and he made a noise deep in his throat, a soft growl of approval. Bethoc was so pleased with that it took her a moment to realize he had loosened her gown and tugged it down to expose her breasts. Then he put his hands on her, flesh against flesh, and she did not care.

  Callum was aching for her. He did not think she was aware of it but she was ru
bbing herself against him. Her plump breasts begged for kisses and he gave them, savoring the breathy sounds of surprise and delight she made. He wanted her and her innocence did not sway him. Neither did the fact that he would have to take her like this, with her on top. He ran his hand up her slim leg, slipping beneath her skirts, but instead of the bare skin he expected to find there, he touched cloth. He wondered why she was wearing braies but, as he kept her distracted with kisses, he worked hard to undo them.

  Bethoc could not think straight. The scent of cinnamon surrounded her. When he took the hard tip of her breast deep into his mouth to suck on it, she clutched at his head, holding him even closer. Through the haze of passion that was now clouding her mind she became aware of the fact that she was now naked beneath her skirts. She tried to form the words to say something but, suddenly, his fingers were there, stroking her, and the words were lost. Each teasing touch made that ache she could not name become greedier.

  Then his hand slipped away and she whimpered a protest.

  “I am going to take ye, Bethoc,” he whispered as he kissed her ear.

  “Take me where?” she asked, shocked by how husky and low her voice had become.

  He laughed softly. “Paradise, I hope.”

  She gasped when she felt it, something trying to ease inside of her. Everything within her stilled as she realized what it was. It was certainly a lot larger than what the boys had. Bethoc also recognized that it was the hard ridge she had been rubbing herself against. She had only just realized she had been doing that and wondered why, then decided that it had felt good. She was not sure this would but, before she could consider protesting, she felt a sharp sting and she cried out. Callum went still beneath her.

  “Sorry, lass, that is the way of it, I fear.” He grasped her by the hips and held her in place as he kissed her and pushed inside her. “I wish it wasnae. Doesnae seem quite fair.”

  Bethoc felt full. Full of Callum, she thought, and would have smiled except that his kisses would not allow it. Slowly the ache returned and the pain faded. She wriggled and he groaned.

  “Still hurt?” he asked, his voice hoarse and tense.

  “Nay.” She frowned as she thought about how she felt. “Just full. Full of Callum.”

  “Jesu. Now ye move,” he whispered as he grasped her by the hips again and moved her.

  For a moment she left it in his hands but her body soon demanded control. He finally let go of her to use his hands to caress her breasts as he kissed her on the mouth, her throat, her breasts. Bethoc could feel that aching tightness inside her growing stronger with every move she made. He grabbed her by the hips again to move her faster. She suddenly felt the tight ache break apart and her whole body shuddered from the force of the feeling that swept through her as she cried out. Callum slammed their bodies together a few times and then held her there as he groaned, and she felt something warm enter her before she collapsed into his arms.

  Callum held her close as they both struggled to catch their breath. It had been more than he had anticipated. He prayed this changed nothing, did not make her shy away from him, because he fully intended to do it again. As he lightly stroked her back he wondered if he had found the woman meant for him. He liked her, a lot, and now they had made love, which he also liked a lot. Callum was just not sure if all of that equaled love, the one thing his foster parents insisted was essential for a good match.

  Bethoc wriggled and, even though it stirred his interest, he let her go. He grinned at her blushes as she struggled to fix her dress then tried to discreetly dismount. When she turned to look for the braies he had tossed aside, he pulled his kilt down and sat up to reach for them where he had tossed them to the bottom of the pallet. After handing them to her he watched as she somehow managed to don them without exposing too much skin.

  “Why do ye wear those?” he asked.

  She grimaced. “Several years ago I had a bad tumble in the garden and my skirts flew up. The boys either laughed or kept asking me where my, er, dangly was.”

  “Your dangly?” he choked out as he struggled hard not to burst out laughing.

  “They were just little boys. Aye, dangly.” She shook her head when he laughed so hard he fell back on the pallet. “The older boys laughed too. But, after that embarrassing moment, I decided, weel, why cannae I wear what they do? Couldnae see why I shouldnae be able to.”

  “Nay, except few lassies do. A lot of the Murray women do though.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Same reason ye do, I suspicion.”

  “I am pleased to hear I am nay the only one to think of it. Weel, I really must be getting home now,” she said, trying desperately not to appear as if she was fleeing the place.

  There was no denying that was exactly what she wished to do. It had been wonderful while they had been doing it but now she could not think of a thing to say or how to act. Bethoc was desperately afraid she could all too easily make a fool out of herself.

  He stood up and reached for his walking stick. She stood there looking as if she was wanting to bolt out the opening so he put his arm around her waist and gently kissed her until some of the tension began to leave her body. What he had done was make her feel unsure, awkward, and that was the very last he had wanted to do.

  “Ye arenae planning on staying away, are ye?”

  She rubbed her hands over her face, suspecting it gave away all her thoughts. “I cannae believe I just . . . I dinnae do that sort of thing. I didnae e’en ken what it was!”

  “I noticed.” He touched a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I am sincerely praying that ye will do it again with me though.”

  “Ye are?”

  “Dinnae sound so surprised, love.” He started to walk her to the doorway. “I quite enjoyed myself.”

  She blushed and looked away. “Weel, aye, it was nice.” She frowned when he clasped his hand to his heart and staggered a little. “What?”

  “Nice? Ye wound a mon with faint praise.”

  “Now ye are just being silly,” she grumbled. “T’was wondrous. Happy now?”

  “Aye.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Ye could say it with a smile though.”

  “And now ye are teasing.” She shook her head but a grin tugged at her mouth. “I have to go.”

  They talked a little more as she opened the way out and he prayed he had eased that embarrassment she had felt, eased it enough that she would not avoid him. Callum watched her leave. She looked around a lot before she stepped out and as she walked, which pleased him. He also surveyed the area carefully. Once she was out of view, he sighed, put the bushes back in place, and returned to his pallet. Callum prayed he had not frightened her away for he already wanted her back.

  Her smell still lingered on his bedding and he sighed again. Bethoc had not only been a virgin, she had been completely ignorant. He was astounded that he could have been yet it was obvious Matheson had never let her leave the house. Her mother had been too lost in her dreams to teach her child anything and he could not see her father telling her anything either. Looking at how she had lived he supposed it should not surprise him that she could be so completely innocent at her age, an age where she should have been married or at least contemplating marriage.

  Old memories stung him before he could stop them and he found himself feeling as if he had sullied her with his touch. He had not been innocent of much of anything since he was a small child. When he had reached an age to be intrigued by women, he had done all he could to get as much knowledge as he could. For a man like him to touch such a pure innocent seemed wrong.

  Callum cursed, shaking away the moment of doubt. He could not change anything in his past and he had done no harm. There was nothing to feel guilty about. He was just put off his stride by Bethoc’s innocence. It was not something he encountered often in a woman for it had never been what he looked for. He had hunted experienced ladies who would allow a man in their bed for a while and then he could walk away. No bonds, just some pleasant memories.r />
  He settled himself more comfortably against the wall. Before this went any further he had to decide what he was going to do about Bethoc. She was more than just an evening’s entertainment. That was about the only thing he was sure of.

  She had had a hard life with Kerr Matheson and that tugged at his sympathy, his need to shelter those who suffered from abuse. Yet he deeply admired her. She cared for all those children, only Margaret being truly related to her. Despite her hard life she was kind and he knew well that kindness was difficult to hold on to when living under a man’s fists. And she still found things to take joy in. Yes, he deeply respected her and admired that quiet strength she revealed.

  There was a lot to like about Bethoc but he knew that was not what had him thinking he could take her to his home, to settle her at Whytemont. The way that thought kept slipping into his head was driving him mad. Callum could not understand what it meant. Did he think he could keep her as his mistress and she would care for the various strays he tended to collect? A heartbeat later he knew the answer to that absurd question was no. But he still needed some explanation for his urge to take her home with him.

  “Ye look thoughtful,” said Simon as he strode into the cave, followed by Robbie and Uven.

  “And ye are back sooner than I expected,” said Callum, silently thanking God they had not returned earlier.

  “We happened upon a verra helpful maid in the second tavern we entered. Ne’er forget to pay the wenches weel,” Simon said. “She was verra angry at a certain scarred fellow because he gave her so little. Anyway, she said he and his friends were weel kenned to be the sort who did most anything for coin. Then the friends pulled him away from her charming company. They have gone off somewhere but she is sure they will be back.”

  “The question is, what have they been hired to do?”