by Wylie, Diane
Standing in front of her, Derek put his damp palms on her cheeks and leaned in until they were touching front to front.
The kiss started out tender and gentle, but in seconds, they both wanted more.
Isobel finally touched him, and she threw all caution to the wind. Her questing hands caressed his face, his neck, and down to his shoulders and corded arms.
He didn’t shy away from doing the same to her. But he had the soap. Silky, slippery soap was applied with big warm hands, and it soon coated her whole body. He paid special attention to her breasts.
Small mewing noises came from Isobel’s throat, surprising her.
First, his hands encircled each slippery breast, and he cupped them in his palms as if judging their weight. When he transferred his hot mouth from her lips to her nipples, Isobel thought she might melt away like a spring snow.
As his mouth was busy teasing and tasting her breasts, his right hand slipped between her legs, touching and questing until he found the secret spot.
“Sweet Mary, Mother of God!” Isobel had never felt such a sensation in her life.
She felt him smile against her breast as his fingers danced and caressed her under the water. All rational thought fled, and she could only clutch his shoulders to stay upright. Her hair fell forward as her head dropped to his shoulder as well.
Still, Derek’s fingers moved and excited her even more. Her body became as tense as a bowstring. Pressure built until she was sure she would explode like an overripe fruit.
Then it happened.
She did explode! Her body convulsed uncontrollably under his attention in sweet, sweet release that left her gasping for air.
Derek held her tight against him as she rode on a tide of exquisite sensations. Every inch of her skin was as sensitive as a newborn babe’s, and she twitched each time his touch went away and returned again.
* * *
In his wildest dreams, Derek could not have imagined the heights of Isobel’s passion. She had been incredibly responsive to his touch, and he silently rejoiced when she reached the top of the mountain.
When she began to relax, he explored her lithe body again and found that she was, indeed, untouched by another man. Her maidenhood would remain intact.
Wrapping both arms around Belle, he supported her in the water as her strength temporarily ebbed away. These womanly curves and firm muscles felt so right in his arms. If only Belle was his to keep, he would love her like this whenever she wanted.
“Oh, Derek.”
“Yes, my wild one?”
“You’ve made me so happy tonight. What can I do for you?” She took a deep breath and found firm footing in the stream.
“Ye dinna have to do anything, I’m here for you.”
“No,” she said and wrapped her slender fingers around his maleness, stealing his breath away.
Bold as brass, his flame-haired temptress took the soap from his hand, rubbed it between her palms, then applied her hands skillfully to his anatomy.
This was all the encouragement he needed. With a stifled groan, he too convulsed, still holding tightly to Belle.
“All right … I give in … and thank ye.” He spoke between gasps for air.
Derek let his head drop to her shoulder and kissed the spot where her slender neck joined her luscious body.
“A thighearna! You’ve been sent from heaven, my angel.”
With that, he scooped her up and carried her to the grassy bank with water streaming off their bodies. Setting her on her feet, he used Fin’s clean shirt to dry her body.
“But you’ll be wearing a wet shirt, Derek.”
“’Twill dry quickly. I thank you for the clean clothing.”
With her eyes on him and his gaze on her, Derek slowly donned the shirt, stockings, and breeches by the lantern’s sputtering flame. Finally coming back to reality, Derek took his boots to the stream and used some moss to clean them off. He knew she still watched his every move.
“The oil is almost gone.” Derek said as he picked up the lantern. “Let’s get you back to the house now.”
Arm in arm, they walked to the Grainger house and parted with a last kiss.
“I will sleep in the woods. When I see you tomorrow, it will be best if your Da thinks I’ve just arrived.”
“Aye, I will act surprised.”
“Good, until tomorrow then.”
“Guid night, Derek. And Derek? I am nae so sure that my purity is intact.” Isobel eased open the door.
“It is, sweetling. Ye’ll ken when it is gone. Sweet dreams, Belle.” He handed over the lantern, turned, and left as she quietly shut the door behind him.
* * *
Isobel slept alone by the fire the remainder of the night because William had wanted to be with Catriona and Rabbie, his temporary parents.
Morning came all too soon, accompanied by the loud crowing of a rooster, followed shortly thereafter by the pitter-patter of little feet as William dashed outside to relieve himself.
Isobel pulled the blanket over her head, preparing for the attack she knew was coming.
“Time to wake up, Belle. Can I have honey on my porridge? Will we have another party today? Do ye think there are any sweets leftover? Can I have some, if there are any?” William peeled back the blanket and crouched down to peer into her face and fling questions at her.
“It’s verra early, laddie. Why do ye not ask Catriona these things?”
The boy pulled the blanket up and crawled under to lie face to face with Isobel. “Because Rabbie told me to find you and stay with ye until they come out.”
She closed her eyes. “Och, sounds just like Rabbie. Lie here quietly for a bit, please.”
“Why? Are ye sleepy still? Did you eat too much at the party and vomit? My Da would drink ale, and it made him sleepy. Did you drink ale, Belle?”
Isobel moaned as the chatterbox continued.
“Does your falcon drink ale? What about Roger? Do donkeys drink ale? I don’t drink it. I tried some from Rabbie’s cup. He let me. I dinna like ale.”
“All right. I’m getting up.” Throwing back the blanket, she liberated herself and William from its hold, and they headed toward the kitchen.
Mrs. Graham, bless her, was already on duty and ready with porridge and honey with hot tea for Isobel and milk for William.
Shouting and cursing from outside caught their attention just as Isobel sipped her last mouthful of tea. The two women exchanged glances then rushed outside, followed by William, Rabbie, and Catriona.
“He’s a damned thief! He took my clothes!” Fin shouted as he struggled to break free from the hold his father and Reverend Grainger had on both of his arms.
On the opposite side of the wagon, standing at the forest’s edge, was the man Isobel had hoped with all her heart would still be here this morning.
“Derek!” She rushed toward him instinctively, only to check her headlong flight before she took three steps. His mouth was smiling, but his brown eyes warned her off.
Holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender, Derek came closer. “Listen, I’m only borrowing your clothes until mine dry.” He pointed to a set of headstones draped with his breeches and he held out a very soggy shirt. “I got verra wet out on the moors. If ye prefer, I can take off your clothes right now, Fin. Is that what ye want?”
“Why are ye here, Derek?” Rabbie asked as Catriona drew up beside Isobel.
Before he could answer, a falcon swooped low over them all, wheeled around and flew directly between the Grahams and Derek.
The peregrine was Isobel’s bird, Latharna. She’d come down from the trees without being called. The adults froze and William hid in Catriona’s skirts.
Latharna made two more low-flying passes then flew straight at Derek. At the last second, she lifted, came around again, and set down on his right shoulder.
Isobel expected Derek to try and throw off the falcon with her sharp claws. Instead, he wrapped his wet shirt around his wrist and held his arm
up for Latharna. The falcon hopped over to the shirt and allowed Derek to stroke her breast.
“That’s a good bird,” he said and turned his gaze to the Grahams. “I’ve come to tell you the whereabouts of Sir and Lady Ogilvie and to speak to you of a plan to reunite them with their son.”
Chapter 16
Derek watched Isobel’s face as she donned a leather glove and approached to retrieve her falcon. Her mouth was set in grim lines, but her eyes sparkled with good humor. How lovely was this woman falconer, with her shining mass of dark red hair? Derek thought of her as his, but in reality, she was not and may never be.
Without speaking a word, Isobel took the falcon from him and carried it toward the line of wooden perches where several birds already roosted. He watched her hips sway, clearly visible in her customary breeches.
In another moment, the Graham men surrounded him, all shouting at once. Derek couldn’t understand a word.
“I want my mamm! Take me to my mamm!” The child’s voice screamed.
Like a door swinging open, the men surrounding Derek parted.
William seized the opportunity to run directly to Derek and grab his leg as the boy craned his neck to look up. “Please, Derek. Please take me to Mamm.”
The wee lad’s pleading eyes were too much. Scooping him up, Derek said, “I can do that, William, if the Graham lads here will allow me.”
The boy spun his head toward Rabbie. “Will ye? Will ye let Derek take me to Mamm, Rabbie?”
The eldest Graham son smiled at the boy. “I’ll need to hear what the man has to say first, I willna allow my adopted son to be taken away without good reason.”
The men had again surrounded Derek, who still held William in his arms.
“Aye, Rabbie, ye canna trust a lying Englishman. Once a liar, always a liar.” Fin scowled and stood clenching and unclenching his fists as if ready to fight.
But Derek was in no mood to do that again. “Look, do ye want to hear me out or not? I came looking for all of ye at no small cost to myself. If I don’t get back to my regiment soon, I’ll be hung for a deserter.”
“Let him talk, Da.” Isobel had returned and stood beside her father. “It can do no harm.”
“Stay calm, lads.” Reverend Grainger had joined the crowd around Derek. “We’re all good Christians here, and as such, let us break bread together and discuss the situation peacefully and with cool heads.”
This time Boyd spoke up, but he did not seem welcoming or happy to see Derek. “Aye, there will be no bloodshed so soon after a wedding.” He turned to his friend. “Ye see, James, this is Derek Sinclair, he’s likely related to the Sinclairs of Dunbeath Castle, but he is an English soldier as well. Ye ken what the English did to Rabbie.”
The reverend clapped Boyd on the shoulder. “I ken your point, but this particular laddie didna do it. Aye? Come, let us all go inside. My wife went inside a bit ago. I expect there will be bannocks and eggs.”
Derek was more than happy to sit down for a meal with the Grahams, Graingers, and William, even though he had been seated far away from Isobel and between Fin and Rabbie. They didn’t trust him, it was plain.
He was allowed to eat his eggs and bannocks in peace for most of the meal. Isobel, Catriona, and Mrs. Grainger did most of the talking about yesterday’s wedding festivities. They had enough to gossip about for days it seemed.
With the last bit and swallow of ale, an opening in the conversation allowed Derek to speak.
“Like I said earlier, I’ve come to find out that Sir George Ogilvie and his wife, Lady Elizabeth Douglas, are being held under house arrest in Dunnottar Castle.”
“Who told ye that?” Fin demanded.
“Dunnottar was uninhabited when I saw it last,” Rabbie put in.
Derek held up a hand to quiet the others. “Thanks to the Graham family, who saved my life, I was searching for the English army to return to my duty when I was set upon by an English deserter. He took me for a Scots and tried to rob me. I was able to convince him to give me information on the whereabouts of the English army. It seems they returned to Dunnottar with the Ogilvies for lack of an alternative place to house them until they divulge the location of the Scottish regalia.”
As he spoke, Derek watched the faces of his audience carefully. At the mention of the regalia, the good reverend’s tawny eyebrows tweaked upwards. But why? Did he know something or was he merely surprised that the Ogilvies were being held prisoner for that reason?
“But we canna turn William over to the English! I’ll not allow it.” Rabbie scowled at Derek and pounded his fist on the table.
Little William began to cry in huge gulping sobs. “I want to go home. I want Mamm and Da.” His thin shoulders shook, and he buried his face in Catriona’s lap. She rubbed his back and turned anxious eyes to Derek.
“What can we do?”
Derek rubbed a hand over his face. His beard was getting thick again. He’d need to shave when he returned to soldiering.
“Listen, we are not all monsters. The Ogilvies are under ‘house arrest,’ which means they are not in a prison cell; they are in their home but cannot leave the castle grounds. I can get inside to make sure this is the case. If it looks safe for William to be with his parents, I can arrange to ‘find’ him and bring him home.”
“What do ye expect us to do, just give the lad to ye?” Fin directed a black scowl toward Derek.
William continued to wail with big, heartbreaking sobs muffled by Catriona’s lap.
Raising his voice to be heard over the din, Rabbie turned to Derek. “I need to see for myself that the Ogilvies are alive and unharmed. William will not be put in danger.”
“I understand. I would do the same if I were in your shoes,” Derek replied.
“Hush now, laddie. The grownups are talking about how to get ye home.” Boyd reached over and pulled William to a sitting position on Catriona’s lap. “There, dry your face and listen.”
Catriona handed the boy a handkerchief to mop up the tears and blow his runny nose.
Isobel passed a cup of milk and a bannock drizzled with honey to William, who managed a small, “Thank ye,” before raising the cup to his lips.
Derek leaned over to speak to the boy from his seat on the opposite side of the table. “William, do ye ken what color uniform the English soldiers wear?”
William put his cup down, leaving a film of milk on his upper lip. “Aye, Derek, they wear red jackets.”
Derek bent over and fished around inside the bag lying next to him on the floor. He pulled a red coat out, stood, and donned it. His shirt sleeves showed past the too-short jacket sleeves, and he couldn’t button the garment, but putting it on instantly made him stiffen his spine and draw erect.
Catriona gasped aloud, and Rabbie, who was seated beside Derek, let out a low growl.
“Easy, everyone, the uniform doesna make me a different person. I’m still Derek Sinclair of the Isle of Skye. The uniform will get me inside Dunnottar Castle to find William’s family.”
“I need to be putting my eyes on them myself before I let William go inside the walls.” Rabbie jumped to his feet as he spoke.
“Can you get another uniform for Rabbie, Derek?” Isobel spoke for the first time. Her words were spoken with confidence. She agreed with his plan. He sat down again.
“Good idea. I can see what’s what, get an English uniform for Rabbie, and take him inside.” Derek grinned at his beautiful, smart woman. For he thought of her as his, whether she truly belonged to him or not.
She smiled back, her eyes sparkling wonderfully.
“I willna wear that bloody thing,” Rabbie declared.
“Then ye willna step one foot inside the castle, lad.” Boyd’s voice was gentle and quiet, now that William had calmed down.
Fin stood, creating two walls of Grahams on either side of Derek. Unable to bear having them loom over him, Derek jumped up as well. The three were evenly sized.
“I’ll wear a red coat. I’ll go inside
Dunnottar with ye, Derek.” The corners of Fin’s mouth lifted in what could have been a smile, if his eyes had shown good humor. He clapped a big hand on Derek’s shoulder. “He and I are good friends now. Aye?”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but saying the word doesna make you a friend, Fin. Your actions will tell.” Derek stood his ground and met Fin’s gaze steadily.
A real grin spread across the man’s ruddy face now. “Right. Right ye are, Derek Sinclair of Skye.”
“Well, if he can do it, so can I. As much as it pains me, Derek, I’ll consent to wearing an English uniform too, if it gets me inside Dunnottar.”
Rabbie’s reluctance was obvious, but Derek respected his ability to change his stance.
William, who had been industriously stuffing bannocks in his mouth while watching first one man than another, swallowed and hastily gulped a drink of milk. “I’m ready. Tgainn!”
Chapter 17
Derek had changed back into his original clothing and returned Fin’s finer quality shirt and breeches. His own breeches were ragged and sported a hole in one knee. The white shirt was no longer white, despite washing it with soap. Mud had a tendency to stain. But the boots he’d originally stolen from a fallen Scotsman had weathered well, despite all of the walking he’d done.
He sat on a stone, still warm from the spring sun, and attempted to brush off the uniform jacket and make it more presentable. There was no need to rile an officer’s temper over an unkempt appearance, if at all possible.
Isobel came out of the Grainger house looking beautiful and fresh as a daisy. She had tied her shining red-gold hair back with a blue ribbon, and she wore a long, dark blue skirt; a cream-colored blouse with puffy sleeves; and a green wool doublet embroidered with intricate yellow flowers and curving lines.
Derek’s mouth fell open at the stunning picture she presented. Then realizing she carried a bundle, he rushed to take it from her.
“Here, let me.” He took the bulging cloth sack then stood there, staring at her.
“Um … it belongs in the cart … my things.”
“Oh. Right.”
They walked together to the cart where Boyd was tidily arranging everything. Derek slid his glance to Isobel and slowed his pace. “No breeches today?”