The Angel and the Highlander

by Donna Fletcher

  “You should be pleased that I have such a concerned friend.”

  “You have a husband,” he reminded.

  “Who gave me no choice but to go with him.”

  Lachlan leaned in close so that his nose was a mere fraction from hers. “I cannot wait to meet Septimus.”

  Alyce smiled. “He looks forward to meeting you.” She turned and glanced around to everyone at the table. “I will see you all later; I feel the need to rest.”

  “Are you all right?” Lachlan asked worried.

  “Just tired,” she said.

  Zia was fast to offer advice. “A nap should serve you well.”

  “I will see that she rests,” Lachlan said and took hold of his wife’s arm.

  “No need,” Alyce said. “Stay and talk with your brothers. I am sure you have much to say to each other. Besides I intend to nap in your bedchamber here in the keep.”

  “Good idea,” Lachlan said, relieved that she would remain close by.

  Lachlan wasn’t surprised that she pressed her cheek to his before placing a faint kiss on his lips and whispering, later before she walked away. He had the overpowering urge to go after her. However, he was surprised when she stopped and began looking over the display of battle plans made with an assortment of pebbles and stones on the table, two over from theirs.

  She started shaking her head. “This would have never worked.”

  Cavan turned as did Artair while their wives smiled.

  Lachlan walked over to his wife. “You need to rest.”

  She brushed him off with a shake of her hand. “Look at this,” she said pointing to a grouping of smaller rocks. “Your assumption of Septimus’s approach is not logical.”

  Artair hurried off the bench. “It most certainly is.”

  “No, look here,” she said stressing where she pointed. “You assume he would strike from this point because it is the most common attack point, right?”

  Artair nodded. “It truly is the only accessible one.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she insisted and began moving the stones around, though Artair protested.

  “Let her show us,” Cavan ordered.

  “Not all battles are fought equally,” she said as she maneuvered the stones. “You must consider your foe and his tactics, or you’ll find yourself in trouble.”

  “But you aren’t always familiar with your foe,” Artair objected.

  She looked at him startled. “You should be. Many times friendly clans turn unfriendly and when strangers linger in the area or stranger after stranger show up, then it should be an alert that someone is scouting your home for a possible attack.”

  “A good point,” Artair admitted. “Tell us more.”

  “My wife needs to rest,” Lachlan said.

  “This is important, Alyce,” Cavan said. “I would prefer to discuss it now, but if you are too tired—”

  “You’re right, it is important,” she agreed. “It needs to be discussed now.”

  Lachlan was about to object when he saw his wife’s face brighten with delight. He could see how excited she was that Cavan actually respected her opinion and he himself was proud of her.

  “I feel fine, Lachlan, so no need to worry,” Alyce said and then returned her attention to the display table.

  Lachlan stood speechless. He had not expected his wife to consider what he thought. Yet she took a moment to assure him, knowing he would be concerned. She had considered him and that not only stunned him, but pleased him.

  He, his brothers, and his wife were soon converged over the table, listening and sharing opinions with Alyce’s suggestions making the most sense. Soon the stones and pebbles were rearranged and the three men nodded their approval.

  “You’re right,” Artair said. “That is a much better plan of defense and attack if necessary.”

  “I also suggest you change your sentry stations,” Alyce said and detailed where and why.

  Cavan continued nodding. “You make good points. I’ll see to those changes immediately.”

  “You are a remarkable strategist,” Artair said. “I’d be interested in discussing more with you.”

  “Another time,” Lachlan said, slipping up behind his wife and wrapping his arms around her waist. “She needs to rest.” He was prepared for her to protest, since she appeared to be enjoying herself, but she surprised him.

  “My husband is right,” Alyce said, caressing her protruding stomach. “His son grows restless, which means he wishes me to rest. Besides I wish to be refreshed for our guests tonight.”

  “Septimus and his men will be welcomed as your friend,” Cavan assured her.

  “I know,” she said. “If I doubted your intentions I would have never showed you the error of your battle tactics against him.”

  Lachlan gently urged her away from the table, feeling enough had been said on the matter. But after only a few feet he was surprised when she stopped and turned around.

  “Another thing you should be aware of, Cavan. The men you sent to trail me lack in skill, but don’t feel bad, Septimus’s men weren’t much better.”

  Lachlan scooped up his wife in his arms and hurried from the room before another rousing debate could start between the pair.

  Chapter 33

  “Don’t waste your time arguing or chastising me for my actions,” Alyce said, slipping her arms around Lachlan’s neck after he deposited her feet on the floor in his bedchamber. She favored the feel of the strong corded muscles in his neck and often allowed her fingers to linger there.

  “And why is that?” he asked, resting his hands at the curve of her hip.

  His simple touch felt more intimate, or perhaps that is what she wanted from him…intimacy. Lovemaking with her husband was something she thoroughly enjoyed and something they did often. It had not suffered because of disagreements. Rather it had grown stronger bonding them more closely than ever.

  When they made love, nothing came between them. They simply surrendered to each other, and Alyce had never felt so safe and secure than at those moments. It was then she knew how very much he loved her and always would.

  “Because it will do you no good,” she said and tenderly pressed her lips to his and sighed with pleasure.

  “Keep that up and you know what will happen.”

  “I’m counting on it,” she whispered before kissing him with a firmness that left no doubt she wanted more from him.

  “You need to rest,” he said, concerned after ending the fiery kiss.

  “I will sleep better if you make love to me and—” Her hand drifted beneath his plaid, settling around his hardness, and she smiled. “It’s obvious you want me.”

  “I always want you, you witch,” he said teasingly. “I look at you and I grow hard.”

  “And you touch me and I grow wet,” she murmured and stroked the length of him.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “You make me lose my senses.”

  “I’d rather you lose control.”

  “It’s not nice to challenge me.”

  “I don’t feel like being nice. I feel like—” She whispered in explicit detail what she wanted from him.

  He claimed a forceful kiss from her as his hands took firm hold of her waist and hurried her to the bed. Neither bothered removing clothes, both much too eager and ready for the other to bother with such nonsense.

  With a quick altering of garments, Alyce was soon guiding him inside her. She loved to feel the silky length of him throb in her hand and know that soon he would rest deep inside her and bring her the most exquisite pleasure over and over.

  He groaned when she squeezed him and he in turn nipped at her hard nipple beneath her linen blouse. She groaned, his mouth refusing to let go as he suckled until she thought she would go mad.

  She released him and arched up to greet his thrust, crying out in sheer delight. He rose over her, his hands on either side of her head and the passion she saw in his dark eyes excited her all the more.

  “Are you all right?�
� he asked. “I’m not hurting you.”

  She sighed, grinned, and splayed her hands on his solid chest. “You could never hurt me. You love me too much, as I do you.”

  “Damn it, wife, I didn’t think you could make me any harder and here you go and do it.”

  She wiggled beneath him. “And oh, does it ever feel so good.”

  He shook his head with a smile. “Damn, I’m a lucky man to have found you.”

  She wrapped her legs around him driving him in deeper and with a moan she said, “I claimed you Lachlan Sinclare, and I won’t let you go.”

  Neither spoke after that, they loved hard over and over and over until their bodies were spent and breathless and all they could do was lie beside each other, hands clasped and utterly content.

  Lachlan entered the great hall hours later, refreshed not only from lovemaking, but the nap he took with his wife and from a quick wash and a change to a fresh white linen shirt beneath his plaid. He had left Alyce with Zia, who had stopped by their bedchamber to see if she could be of any help. He hurriedly took his leave when Honora arrived shortly after Zia and the three began talking of women things.

  Cavan was with Artair in the great hall, which was ready to greet their guests. Tables were crowded with pitchers of ale, wine, and an assortment of foods that would tempt any appetite. It was already tempting his.

  He reached for a piece of roasted fowl, his favorite.

  “Don’t touch that,” his mother yelled. “You know your father’s rules not to eat before the feast begins.” With that she disappeared into the kitchen.

  His two brothers grinned as he approached.

  “We got the same when we tried to pinch a bite,” Artair said.

  “You’re laird now, Cavan, can’t you change the rules?” Lachlan asked, his stomach growling for the roasted fowl.

  “Do you want to be the one to tell Mother that Father’s rules are no more?” Cavan asked.

  “No,” Lachlan answered quickly enough and suffered his hunger pains.

  “You will do well with Septimus tonight?” Cavan asked Lachlan.

  Oddly enough Lachlan didn’t smile. “He proves a challenge, since I wonder why he felt the need to rescue my wife.”

  “I need you to hold your temper,” Cavan said.

  Lachlan laughed. “Since when do I have a temper?”

  “Since you got married,” Cavan said.

  “No,” Artair objected. “It’s since he realized just how deeply in love he is with his wife.”

  Lachlan smiled. “I always knew I was in love with my wife. It was making certain she knew she felt just as strongly about me.”

  “And does she?” Artair asked.

  “Of course she does,” Lachlan said, annoyed that his brother should question the obvious.

  Artair rested his hand on Lachlan’s shoulder. “You’ll never truly know for sure unless you free her to make her own decision.”

  “She is free,” Lachlan argued. “She does as she wishes.”

  “But was it her choice to wed you and make her home here at Caithness?” Artair asked.

  “It was her duty to wed,” Cavan said. “Lachlan at least loves her and obviously she loves him.”

  “That doesn’t seem to be in doubt,” Artair agreed. “But I think Alyce would have preferred to make the choice herself, just as each of our own wives did.”

  Cavan bristled. “Honora didn’t have a choice.”

  Lachlan laughed along with Artair.

  “You two were perfect for each other from the start,” Lachlan said. “We were just waiting for you both to realize it.”

  “Enough,” Cavan ordered, annoyed by his brothers’ teasing. “We need to focus on the mercenaries tonight and find out if they know anything about Ronan.”

  “Alyce says they don’t,” Lachlan reminded.

  “That just means she hadn’t seen or heard anything,” Cavan said. “But what of before the mercenaries arrived in the area? Could they have seen our brother somewhere? Be alert and ask questions.”

  “There’s one other thing I’d like to know,” Lachlan said. “And that is who sent Septimus here to rescue Alyce?”

  No one had a chance to respond. Their wives’ jovial voices reached the men in the great hall before they entered, and Lachlan couldn’t help but be struck senseless when he saw his wife.

  She wore a deep green velvet gown gathered beneath her full breasts and falling in a swirl at her slipper-covered feet. Long sleeves fell at the wrists to gold-trimmed points, which also weaved through the velvet under her breasts. Her blond hair was piled high on her head with stray strands falling along her neck and a few short strands curling at the sides. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her full lips rosy. She was stunning.

  He told her just that, though she objected.

  “This is all,” she said with a graceful swirl, “thanks to Zia and Honora. They worked magic.”

  Lachlan leaned close, whispering in her ear. “They had to have magic to work with from the start and you, my lovely wife, are a magical beauty.”

  Horns trumpeted the arrival of their guests, and Alyce gave her husband a quick kiss.

  “Be good,” she whispered.

  “I thought I was,” he teased with a nibble at her ear.

  “I think perhaps,” she said with a smile, “your charm will be tested tonight.”

  “Ye of little faith,” he murmured.

  “Ye, who knows her husband,” Alyce laughed softly and took hold of his hand to tug him along to stand beside his brothers and greet the guests.

  Lachlan bristled as soon as he caught sight of Septimus. He was ready to argue that the man wasn’t as handsome as he, but damned if the mercenary hadn’t caught the eye of every female servant who glanced at him. At one time their eyes would have held steady on Lachlan, but now their eyes were stuck on Septimus.

  Cavan greeted the man with a firm handshake and welcomed him to the home of the clan Sinclare.

  They soon were all seated at the table in front of the hearth, a few of Septimus’s men occupying the other tables along with Cavan’s warriors. Lachlan knew his brother had planned for any possibility and part of it was due to his wife’s strategy skills.

  Lachlan noticed his mother kept busy seeing to all her guests, though one rather large mercenary seemed to draw her attention the most, and he wondered if he was being a problem.

  His wife’s hand settled on his as they got comfortable at the table.

  “That is Hagen and he a good man,” she said with a nod in his direction.

  He wasn’t surprised that she noticed what he did, since she was always alert to everything going on around her.

  Conversation was general at first with everyone being polite to a fault. Lachlan knew it wouldn’t remain that way. Both sides sought answers and would eventually demand them.

  A couple of hours later, with niceties and food done, Cavan said, “It is time to be truthful.”

  “I agree,” Septimus said and looked directly at Lachlan. “I have come to rescue your wife.”

  “I’ve heard,” Lachlan acknowledged, “though you’ve wasted your time. Alyce needs no rescuing.”

  “Isn’t that for her to decide?” Septimus asked, though to Lachlan it sounded more like a challenge.

  Lachlan ignored him and countered with another question. “Who sent you here?”

  “What difference does it make?” Septimus said.

  Before Lachlan could challenge him, Alyce spoke up.

  “I’m curious myself, since it wouldn’t have been anyone at Everagis; that would leave me to believe…” She stared at him.

  Septimus nodded with a smile. “You knew since my arrival.”

  “I suspected,” Alyce asked. “But why?”

  “Explain,” Cavan ordered curtly.

  Septimus lost the smile. “My leader sent me here to see if Alyce remained of her own accord.”

  “Who is your leader?” Cavan asked.

  “I cannot tell you tha
t,” Septimus said and offered no reason.

  “Why?” Artair asked before anyone could.

  “A command,” Septimus said.

  “It makes it seem as though you’re hiding something,” Lachlan accused.

  “I expected your questions to center more on your brother Ronan,” Septimus said. “And don’t you search for a woman; your enemy’s daughter who slipped away from you?”

  “Perhaps all the answers tie together,” Alyce suggested.

  “You’ve suspected my leader’s identity since the first night you entered our camp, haven’t you?” Septimus asked.

  “It seemed a logical assumption,” Alyce admitted. “Your leader always remained in the shadows where he couldn’t be seen. And when I demanded to meet with him you gave me an excuse and saw that it never happened. I asked myself why? Why did someone work so hard not to be seen? The answer was easy. He didn’t want to be recognized, which meant I would recognize him, and why? He resembled Lachlan.”

  “So you assumed Ronan is our leader,” Septimus said.

  “Our brother wouldn’t lead a band of mercenaries,” Cavan said as if insulted by the mere suggestion.

  “Why not?” Septimus asked just as insulted.

  “He’d have no reason to,” Artair explained. “He has a home to return to.”

  “Perhaps he has a good reason for not returning home,” Septimus suggested.

  “I don’t believe that,” Lachlan said. “Ronan would return home if he could, therefore, something is preventing him from coming home.”

  “I have to agree with Septimus on this,” Alyce said to everyone’s surprise. “My father would have never believed that I would fake my death so I wouldn’t have to return home.”

  Lachlan shook his head. “Not Ronan.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” Alyce said. “You have no idea what has happened to him in the time he’s been gone.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Cavan agreed with Lachlan. “Ronan would come home if he could.”

  “Sometimes something happens to change people,” Alyce said.

  “Cavan changed,” Honora said and looked with loving eyes at her husband, “but still he fought to get home. I believe Ronan would do the same.”