by Sky Winters
Over breakfast, a bowl of simple porridge and ale, James told her of his plans. One of his men was already riding to Inverness to meet up with Lord Stewart to bargain Arabella for the return of his lands and release of his father. James was no fool and knew that it would not be easy. Andrew Stewart was sure to raise a small army and come looking for them –yet he had the upper hand, he had Arabella and even in the eyes of the cold Laird, surely the prize was worth it?
He could hardly dare think about the poor young woman being bound to such a man, but it was not his problem, the girl had obviously agreed to the union. At least she would be well cared for, she would want for nothing in the castle, more than anything he could hope to provide her with.
He shook his head sadly; it was a stupid thought to even entertain. His lifestyle was not fitting for a lady such as Arabella Armstrong.
It would be several days at least until they expected word back from Lord Stewart and the plan was to stay concealed in the camp for as long as they needed.
At first Arabella sat silently, aloof from the men and thinking over her forthcoming marriage. She had been shocked to hear some of the stories about her fiancé, but was sure they were exaggerated; her father would never have given such a man permission to marry her; however wealthy he might be.
Occasionally she would watch James slyly out of the corner of her eye. All the men seemed to respect him and he worked with the men on all tasks, nothing was too lowly for him. She delighted in seeing him demonstrate his strength, either chopping down a tree for firewood or fixing one of the temporary shelters. Occasionally he worked stripped naked from the waist and she loved to watch the rippling biceps and strong shoulders at work. Never before had she felt sexually attracted to a man and a dull ache rose inside of her that she could not dismiss, however hard she tried.
For most of the day she was sat alone with her thoughts and with James not always by her side, she felt the she must keep a close watch on the other men. She caught them looking at her when they thought she wasn't looking and she did not like their stares. It was only when they sat once again around the camp fire that night, and James was sat next to her, did she relax. After they had eaten, one of the men stood up and brought out an old battered set of pipes. She expected the music would be disharmonious and was amazed when the soft haunting melody floated out into the night air. It was a tender, melancholy piece that she recognised from her childhood “The Bonny lass of Ballochmyle’ and she started to sing the words in her head.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice, sweet and low, singing the very same words she was thinking. It was James. He sang with a rich baritone, and the more he sang, the more she loved him. It was a tale of innocent love and it hit her straight in the heart.
Fair is the morn in flow'ry May,
And sweet is night in autumn mild,
When roving thro' the garden gay,
Or wand'ring in the lonely wild;
But woman, Nature's darling child -
There all her charms she does compile;
Even there her other works are foil'd
By the bonnie lass 0' Ballochmyle.
James was looking straight at her and she mouthed the words along with him. Soon the men were clamouring for another tune and invited Arabella to sing for them. At first she was shy, but emboldened by the ale she stood and asked what songs she knew. She could remember the words to ‘Early one Morning’ and soon the piper had struck up a chord and she was soon singing of a poor maiden’s plight.
Oh, don't deceive me,
Oh, never leave me,
How could you use
A poor maiden so?
Her voice was light and crisp and as she grew bolder the notes soared high into the night sky, as tuneful as a lark at evensong.
James felt his eyes well with tears; the sound was so plaintive that he turned his head away so that his men could not see. In a few days she would be miles away and in another man’s bed. She would soon forget her time here.
When she had finished he went over to sit with her and they talked until the moon had swung around the great mountain to the west. He told her how frail his father had been following the death of his mother. Theirs had been a long and true love and when he had lost her, he thought his whole life over. That had been when the greedy Lord Stewart had struck, when they had all been grieving, and he had taken their lands by force. When his father had tried to complain to the Sheriff, the Laird had imprisoned him in the castle on a charge of trespass on his own lands. His father had been a peaceful man and had always been kind to his tenant farmers. The new Laird had doubled the rents and increased the taxes, driving out families from their homes and livelihoods.
Arabella listened without comment, as she looked into his dark and honest eyes; she knew that he was telling the truth. The more she heard about Lord Andrew Stewart, the less she liked him, let alone wanted to marry him.
It was late and Arabella yawned. James promised to watch over her and walked her back to the shelter that would be her bed for the night. As they walked through the darkness their hands brushed lightly and a spark of electricity passed between them. His heart was beating loudly in his chest and he could hide his feelings no longer. Grabbing at her waist he pulled her close to him, his hot breath on her hair.
Her whole body tingled as she was held, suspended, in the moment of his magical first kiss. His lips found hers with an urgency and fervour that was all consuming. Arabella felt her feet lift from the floor; she was floating on air, her head light and reeling on the heights of passion.
The ache had grown within her and she surrendered softly to his touch. His hands caressed her body, reaching up to find her small and perfectly round breasts. She moaned softly as he gently squeezed and caressed the soft yet firm flesh, yielding under his strong hands.
His lips were demanding on hers as his passion increased; her sweet and innocent mouth tasting like the fruits of heaven. He had never known anything sweeter nor more desirable and he felt himself being swept away on the tide of his own passion.
Yet he stopped, suddenly, pulling himself away from her as if the force were killing him. She was not his to have and was betrothed to another. If he took her she would be damaged goods, it would ruin not only her immediate prospects, but her whole life. His blood was pumping fiercely around his body as if his heart would explode with the sheer frustration, his hands shaking with unspent desire.
Arabella gasped as she opened her eyes. She was breathless from her passion and did not want it to stop. His eyes were dilated and burning deep amber, his face contorted as if he were in pain.
Lifting up her arm she brushed his face softly with her fingertips and a deep tremor shook his body, as if he had been struck by the very force of Mother Nature herself.
“What is it James?” The girl looked up to him, her innocent blue eyes, gentle and trusting.
His voice wavered as he spoke.
“I cannot do this Arabella. You are to be returned to Lord Stewart, to be married to him, and while I hate to think upon it, I do not have the right to take your innocence in this way. If I took you now, I would never be able to let you go.”
James looked away as if he could not bear to see her sweet face. Arabella could feel her heart thumping in her breast. Never had she felt so strongly, so deeply, cared so absolutely about one man.
“Then let me stay with you James,” she whispered softly, her voice hardly disturbing the silence of the night.
Looking at her, his eyes brimming with passion, he sadly shook his head.
“What have I to offer you Arabella? I have no lands and no real home. I live a life that changes with the Seasons; it is not a life for a Lady. As much as I hate Lord Stewart he can give you a comfortable home, everything you desire will be yours.”
“Everything except love that is.” The girl reached over and took his hand in hers.
For a moment he sat silently, looking at the beautiful and brave young woman set before him. He cou
ld not believe that she could love him in return.
“What about Lord Andrew?”
“What about him? From what you tell me he is a cruel and evil man. How could I love such a man, live in the same household as a man such as that, even with all the wealth in Scotland I could not be happy.”
“But you could be happy with me? I cannot promise a comfortable life, but I can offer myself, my unconditional love and protection, as long as I breathe Gods air.”
Arabella could feel the tears start to well behind her eyes. The emotion was almost too much to endure. She knew at that moment how much she loved him and her mind was made up, she had decided upon her destiny.
“I do not want a comfortable life without love James; I just want to be with you, but what about your father and your land? If I am not returned to the Laird, what will happen?”
James frowned. He loved his father very much, he was more important than the land, but now he had Arabella, he could not let her go. There had to be another way.
“Do not worry, there will be a way, there is always a way. I cannot let you go now that I have found you.”
Her eyes shone through the darkness and his passion started to rise as he reached out for her once more.
“Do you love me Arabella?”
Smiling she brought her lips to his “I have never been so certain of anything in my life.”
This time his passion was gentler, sat easier in his soul. She loved him and would stay with him, and together they would battle through life’s hardships.
His lips were softer now upon hers, supple and tender. His tongue tentatively explored the moist recesses, their tongues joining and embracing as the depth of their passion grew.
His hands were once again upon her breasts and he could feel the small nipples hardening at his touch. He needed to feel the soft flesh beneath her tunic and pulled at the material until his fingers reached the bare flesh beneath. Arabella had never been touched so intimately by a man, yet she was not afraid. She trusted James with every fibre of her being.
Arching her back she pushed against the warmth of his hands as they cupped the soft flesh of her breasts. As he squeezed and rolled her nipples between his fingers she started to moan with pleasure, her head reeling under his touch.
His kisses became more urgent as his body covered hers. She could feel his hardness grinding into her and the ache within her started to grow, almost instinctually she needed to feel him inside her.
His hands now lowered and tugged at the breeches she was wearing. Raising herself off the floor, she allowed him to pull the garment down, leaving her exposed in her long woollen stockings and little else.
James gasped as touched the soft taut skin of her inner thigh. Bringing down his head he kissed the supple, sweet flesh, parting her legs slightly.
He could smell the sweet musky scent of her hollow as his mouth travelled up to her soft mound, covered with a fine coating of light, downy hair. Her virgin recesses were like honey on his lips as he dipped his tongue into her fleshy folds. It was though a shock rippled through her body and she writhed beneath him, lost in the pure pleasure of his lovemaking.
He could not wait a moment longer to be inside her and standing up pulled at his own breeches and shirt until he was stood naked in front of her.
At first she was a little nervous to gaze upon him, but he was beautiful. His body was lean and tanned from living outdoors, the muscles highly defined on his legs, arms and torso.
His cock stood proud and erect, slightly glistening with precum.
“Are you ready for me Arabella my love?”
Suddenly feeling bashful she smiled and lowered her gaze. She did not know the words, only that she wanted him more than anything.
Kneeling before her, he kissed her reassuringly before pushing her back amongst the blankets.
Spreading her legs further apart he positioned himself between her thighs, his thick cock in his hand, guiding himself into her.
He did not want to hurt her and knew that his large manhood would stretch her tight hole as he entered and he tried to be as gentle as his ardour would allow. The tip of his cock pushed lightly against her moist lips and she arched her back to receive him. She was so tight that he almost came as he slowly started to enter her, the walls of her soft flesh moulding around him like a perfect glove, squeezing his hard flesh until he could hardly stand it and had to lie still for a moment.
“Arabella, my sweet love,” he whispered in her ear over and over again.
As he started to push deeper she winced slightly, gasping and asking him to be gentle.
Her pleading words made his passion flare and he had to restrain himself from thrusting his full length completely inside her.
Inch by inch he eased the way, feeling her tighten and then relax beneath him as he filled her completely.
With one final thrust he was there and she could feel his thick flesh, throbbing and hot inside her.
He lay still for a second until he could bear it no longer and started to thrust within her. His animal passions took over as he thrust deeper and longer inside her until he could feel himself on the verge of no return.
Arabella was breathing heavily and her pupils were dilated. As he pumped into her he could feel her pleasure rising, the soft walls trembling around his hard member.
His orgasm exploded inside his brain as his penis erupted inside her, splashing his seed in soft creamy swathes that trickled from her hole, warm and wet on her thighs and slightly pink with her virginal blood. She had never experienced such a wealth of emotion and had though her brain would explode with pure pleasure. Now his penis was slack within her and his body warm and perspiring against hers. Wrapping his arms tightly around her they fell into a soft and dreamless sleep.
Chapter 3
When she awoke she was alone inside the shelter. She had been covered in a swathe of blankets and could still feel the sticky love making between her thighs. She had a slight dull ache in her abdomen and she remembered the lovemaking and smiled. Now she was truly his, she did not care what happened now, cushioned by the soft glow of love.
At the sound of footsteps she pulled a woollen shawl tightly around her, but she did not need to fear. It was James, bringing hot water for her to wash with.
“I thought you might need this after last night,” he smiled gently at her and she blushed remembering him inside her.
Kissing her softly he made to leave. He and his men would spend most of the day devising a new plan, how to get back his father and the lands without forfeiting the young girl.
Arabella looked worried “Do your men know about me?”
James smiled and winked “Do not worry about my men, they are true and loyal. Now you are one of us, they will not harm you.”
And it was true. As Arabella left the safety of her shelter to sit around the fire to eat her breakfast, the men either smiled or nodded to her. Not in a ‘knowing’ or ‘lewd’ fashion, but one of honest friendship and camaraderie.
After a breakfast of bread and cheese, Arabella wondered what to do with her day. She was not a girl who was generally idle, although her class and station in life meant that she seldom had anything pressing. At home she would embroider or play the piano her father had bought her for her 14th birthday. She was quite an accomplished artist and often sketched or painted watercolour scenes from the countryside around her, but she could do none of that here.
The girl sat by the fire and watched as the man designated cook chopped at the rabbit and vegetables in readiness for their supper that night. As a child she had helped Mrs McGregor in the kitchen many times, chopping vegetables and herbs to accompany her gastronomical delights, or tasting the pudding mixture before it went into the oven, to make sure it was just right. She had learned a lot from the old cook but had never found the need to practise her craft. She looked at the dish and knew what would help; a few wild blackberries would bring out the flavour beautifully. She had noticed the bushes around the edges of t
he forest were full of the dark purple delights and a stroll would do her good. Dressed in her breeches and cap she would be inconspicuous enough and after all, she wouldn’t stray far.
The day was beautiful and the sunlight filtered through the branches creating a soft green glow over everything it touched. The berries were abundant and there were too many to carry. The forest was empty around her, apart from the genial sing song of the native birds. Quickly she took off her cap, releasing her long hair around her shoulders. There was no-one about to see her and no harm would be done and quickly she started to pick the berries, placing them inside the cap for easy carriage home. She began to sing ‘Early One Morning’ softly to herself, remembering the previous night and her heart was light.
Very soon the cap was full and her fingers sticky and stained with the juice. She had walked to the edge of a trickling brook, clear and shimmering in the soft sunlight and putting down the capful of berries, decided to stay a while longer, enjoying the peace and quiet of the open air.
Arabella must have fallen asleep for she was wakened with a start by a noise behind her. She thought she had heard men talking, probably just the men from the camp, but she gathered the cloak loosely around her and shrank back into the undergrowth.
She listened intently, all was quiet. Perhaps they had gone away; perhaps it had just been the gurgling of the brook after all. Whatever had woken her, it was time to get back to the relative safety of the camp.
Standing up she brushed the dry leaves from her clothes and bent down to pick up the cap full of berries. A twig snapped in front of her and she looked up.
There stood Andrew Stewart and two of his men, they had been watching her all along.
The Laird eyed her suspiciously. This was not the picture of a girl who had been taken against her will. She was happy; he had heard her singing a short while before, the refrains of a love song if he was not mistaken. The anger rose inside him as he thought of his enemy, James Macadam, but he tried not to let his feelings show,