by Willa Blair
Well, he had a week until the dark of the moon. He’d use that time to woo Muireall and win her. Then they’d do something about wee Georgie together.
Chapter 17
The Brodies Iain sent to Munro returned that afternoon. And the news was exactly what Muireall had hoped for. Her father had been overjoyed to hear the lasses were alive and well. He and his men had searched for weeks. But with no bodies, and no other clans nearby claiming to have stolen Munro brides, eventually he had to assume the lasses had drowned, their bodies washed out into the firth or carried off by animals. That last made Muireall shudder. Her poor da. Not knowing must have tormented him so—as well as the other lasses’ families. Even if she couldn’t return home yet, she was glad Iain had given her clan some good news.
As Iain had suggested, his men had been delayed by Munro hospitality, but also by convincing Muireall’s father not to strike back at Ross in retaliation for stealing the lasses and for the suffering their unexplained disappearance had cause. Since the man responsible was dead, the Munro had agreed simply to patrol their border with Ross against more raiding parties. Euan said Munro’s forbearance should help Erik Ross consolidate his hold on his clan.
As opposed to his earlier distance that had made Muireall think he’d been avoiding her last week, since he’d returned from Ross with Eduard, everywhere she turned, Euan appeared. One time, he’d be across the room and would merely catch her eye and smile. The next, he’d sit with her at supper and regale the table with the tale of Eduard’s rescue or laugh over some clan gossip. She felt like a deer being stalked, the hunter seeing her first from a distance, then moving ever closer, in tighter and tighter circles, until he had her.
She preferred Euan’s attention to his earlier avoidance. She liked that he was back to acting responsible for her, caring for her, spending time with her. She just wondered where it was leading.
In a few days, he would sail her home. Ella, too, had decided to go, at least to see what sort of reception she would get there. If Dermott would not honor their betrothal, she could come back to Brodie. Calum had made his interest clear to everyone else, if not to Ella. And in any case, Muireall was starting to see reasons why Ella would prefer Calum over Dermott. Calum was a much better man. Plus, she would be welcome here, and able to make a new home for herself away from all that had happened to her over the last month. Nothing Muireall had suffered at Donas Ross’s hands, even the lash, could compare to that.
Her own future might be in question, too. She did not think she would face the same censure as Ella at Munro, so she could stay there if she wished. But Euan would be here, far across the firth at Brodie. Would he offer for her, and try to bring her back once she had a chance to visit her family? If he did, could she leave Georgie? Well, there was no sense in worrying about all that now. She’d learn where things stood when she returned to Munro.
In the meantime, Euan was everywhere, and she liked it.
She was on her way to join Annie for a riding lesson when Euan intercepted her.
“I’ll go with ye,” he said when she divulged her destination.
“That’s no’ necessary. Annie and I will be fine.”
“Nonetheless, I’ll ride with ye.”
Annie grinned when she saw Muireall enter with Euan. “Do ye need a lesson, then?” she teased him.
“Nay, but ye need an escort if ye’re planning to leave the keep. And I ken ye are.”
“Ye are, and Muireall has made enough progress to ride with ye, as long as ye dinna try to race.”
“Ye are no’ coming?” Muireall faced her, wide-eyed. She wasn’t at all sure that riding out alone with Euan was a good idea.
“Nay, I have some things to do for Iain. So Euan, take good care of our lass, will ye?”
He smirked. “I will.”
Annie gave him a wink and left them.
“I…” Muireall started to object, but Euan cut her off.
“Up ye go, lass.” Annie had already saddled Muireall’s usual mount. Euan helped her up, then quickly readied his horse.
Before Muireall knew what had happened, they were riding, side-by-side, out the gate and across the meadow behind the Brodie keep. It was a rare sunny and warm winter day. Muireall had ridden enough by now to enjoy the breeze and the effort of riding. The sun on her face was an unexpected pleasure. And, she had to admit, to herself at least, so was the man riding beside her.
“Where to?” she asked.
“Have ye ever seen a ghost?”
Muireall’s skin prickled. “A ghost? Nay! Nor would I wish to.”
“No’ a real one. I’ll take ye to the wee glen. In it is an ancient stone ye must see.”
“Only a stone?”
“Aye. Only a stone. A ghost of the past, left behind.”
She nodded, intrigued. “Very well. Is it far?”
He grinned and shook his head. “Nay. Only on the far side of those trees.”
After what seemed like miles, they broke out of the green shade of the pine forest into a small glen. Off to one side, a grey rectangular stone stood sentinel over the clearing. Euan led her to it, and they dismounted.
It was smaller than Muireall first thought. Half her height, or a bit more. It looked as if someone had scraped badly spaced lines up one side, then decorated the face of it with loops and what might be crude drawings of some creature. The stone was weathered enough she couldn’t tell. “What is this?” she asked as she walked around to see the back and other side.
“No one kens for certain. Left by some of the Pechs as a signpost for others, perhaps.”
“This stone wasna hewn by Pictish fairies,” Muireall objected.
Euan grinned. “How would ye ken? ’Tis very old.”
Muireall ran a finger across the top of the stone, where moss made a green carpet. “They’d be too wee to stand it in place as it is.”
“Aye, well, ye might have a point.” He moved behind her, took her hand and traced her fingers over the lines running down the side. “Some say this is writing, though I canna see it.”
“Mayhap some has worn away.” Muireall could scarce concentrate on the stone before her. Euan’s fingers caressed her hand while his body heated her back and sent coils of wanting spiraling through her. She’d been alone with him before, but something about this glen made her feel they were the only two people in the world. Anything they did here would be lost in time, just like this stone. She turned in Euan’s arms to face him, then brought her gaze up to his.
She’d once thought his eyes were sea green, when he’d first saved her from drowning. Here, they were as deeply green as the moss on the ancient stone, or the grass beneath their feet in summer. Framed by the russet of his eyebrows, they were as dark and mysterious as the rock at her back.
He gave her no more time to study him, but leaned in and brushed his lips across hers, then again, softly, leaving her no doubt he would demand more.
She met him, kiss for kiss, touch for touch. When she parted her lips, his tongue invaded her mouth and she tangled hers with his, then sucked as she tunneled her fingers in his hair.
Euan moaned and pulled her closer, his arms like the warmest furs that had ever comforted her, then steel bands, telling her without words he would never let her go. Muireall caressed his face, wishing the simmer in her blood could go on forever. When he cupped her breast, instinct drove her to arch against him.
“Muireall,” he breathed. “Ye are perfect. So beautiful, in my eyes and in my hands. Do ye have any notion what ye have done to me?”
“What?” she got out before his mouth claimed hers. When he let her breathe again, she asked again. “What have I done to ye?”
It was his turn to hold her still and study her. His eyes moved lovingly over her face and throat, down her body and back up again. “I want ye lass, but more than that, I want ye with me. When I wake each morn, I wonder where ye are. When I close my eyes at night, I wish ye were beside me. Somehow, ye have become as necessary to me as
the blood in my veins. When we are away from each other, I feel as though I’m missing a part of my body. My heart.”
“Euan, I dinna ken what to say.” Her heart beat as fast as a galloping horse, and she needed Euan’s strength to remain on her feet.
“Let me love ye, lass.” He paused when her breath caught. “Nay, I willna take ye. No’ until I can wed ye, if ye’ll have me, but there is so much more I can show ye.”
“Then show me, Euan. In this magical place, I want to learn.”
He laid her on the sweet moss beside the ancient stone and quickly unlaced the bodice of her dress. He moved it aside while his lips, teeth and tongue traced a path from her mouth down her throat to her chest. The heat of his mouth penetrated her shift as if it wasn’t there. But even that thin fabric was more than Muireall wanted between her skin and Euan’s mouth. She untied the neckline and smiled when he pulled it away, then gasped when his lips closed over her nipple and sucked. A bolt of pleasure arced from her breast to the peak of her thighs, hazing her mind with sensations she’d never experienced before. He pulled her to sitting and kissed his way across her shoulder, making her pulse dance, then twisted her to reach the nape of her neck.
Muireall knew the moment Euan saw what had been done to her. He froze, his lips still on her skin, but she knew his eyes must be wide and his brow furrowed. Then he lifted his head and moved around her, pulling her dress down to her waist.
“Who did this to ye?”
She fought for calm, knowing the truth would only add to the burdens Euan carried, but she had no believable lie at the ready. Women were rarely lashed, and only for the worst offenses, none of which she wanted him to think she’d committed.
“Donas Ross.” The words sounded as if they came from someone else’s throat, so softly did she utter them they seemed to echo from miles away.
Then Euan pulled her up to her knees, turned her to face him and held her shoulders, his gaze fastened to her eyes. Though her breasts were bared, he never glanced down. “Why? How could he do this to ye?”
“I ran away. I tried to…”
Euan’s face reddened. His eyes narrowed before he released her and scrubbed his hands over his face.
She pulled her shift up and tied it, then reached for her dress, intent on covering herself. Suddenly, she felt too exposed, as if Donas Ross was standing nearby, leering at her.
“I wish he still lived so I could kill him again,” Euan ground out, then lowered his hands. “No lass should ever feel the stripe of the lash on her body.” He reached out to help her pull the dress up to her shoulders.
She appreciated that he knew the mention of Donas Ross had broken the lovely spell of the wee glen for her. His sensitivity endeared him to her as much as his fury on her behalf.
“Had I known then what he had done, he wouldha died much more slowly. In as much agony as I could inflict, for the harm he did ye.”
Muireall clenched her hands. “’Twas my own fault, for not getting away. For getting caught. The first time, he merely confined me for three days without food. This,” she said and hooked a thumb over her shoulder, “he did after my second attempt.”
Euan shook his head. “He was a cruel, evil bastard. What he did to ye makes me wonder what he did to other lasses in his care.”
Muireall choked, then laughed. “His care. No’ how I would describe it.”
Euan pursed his lips, looking sheepish. “Nor I, truly.” He caressed her face with a gentle hand. “I would gladly have taken the lashes for ye. I’m sorry ye suffered as ye did.”
She leaned into his hand and sighed. She’d feel contented if only they were not talking about Donas Ross’s perfidy. “I’m sorry, too. Though some good did come of it.” She lifted her gaze to his. “I met ye.”
“Aye, and I met ye.”
“I ken it doesna make up for what happened.”
“Dinna compare the two, lass. Ye are a blessing unlooked for, but greatly treasured. Ye ken I want ye…I want ye to stay with me.”
She straightened away from him and studied her hands.
He sighed. “’Twas the wrong thing to say. And I ken yer reasons for going home. For Georgie. But ye canna deny what is between us. I want to make ye happy, Muireall. I want ye to be my wife.”
She knew what she wanted to say. She wanted him, too. A future as his bride would be more than she’d ever hoped for. But her life, her obligations, were at Munro and at her father’s discretion. Euan’s were at Brodie. And after he’d told her while they were still trapped in the cave, what he did not want in a bride, she feared he’d change his mind once he got her home. She could not agree until he knew everything about her. When he took her home, he would see for himself and decide.
She stood and began straightening her clothes. Euan got to his feet and moved to her, doing up the lacings he’d loosened, careful not to touch her any more than necessary to tighten them.
After a moment, he spoke again. “Ye dinna have to answer me now, Muireall. There are things we must take care of, before either of us can be free to wed. But I want ye to ken,” he tied the last knot and took her face in his large hands, his gaze boring into hers, “ye have my heart. ’Tis up to ye what ye do with it.”
His image suddenly blurred. “I dinna see how the future we hope for can ever be,” she choked out. “But ye have my heart, as well.”
“We will find a way, lass. We must. If it takes time, so be it, but I’d have ye to wife today if I could.”
He could. She knew he could. They’d only need to pronounce the words, to pledge their troth to each other. Here, before the ancient stone, would be a fine place. Then finish what they’d started, and let him take what he’d refused to take from her. Her maidenhead. Her innocence. Then it would be done.
Part of her yearned for it. For Euan. The need so strong she shook with it. The hand she lifted quivered, and her thoughts tumbled like the dry leaves blown across the glen by the rising winter wind. ’Twould be easy to do. As easy as loving Euan. They’d return to his clan married, she his, and he hers. But he didn’t know everything about her. And the truth he didn’t know might change his mind and close his heart to her forever.
Euan watched tiny changes in expression flit across Muireall’s face. Her love for him shone in her eyes, but her face betrayed hope, then sorrow, then emotions he could not name. The hand she lifted toward him trembled with the strength of her feelings.
He dropped to his knees and took her hands in his, yet her body still quaked. “I love ye, Muireall. No matter what happens, no matter what ye decide, that will never change. I will love ye with every day of my life, and my last breath I’ll use to say yer name.”
“Euan…ye canna make such promises.”
“I can, lass, and I do. There is no more solemn, sacred place on Brodie land, save the kirk, to make such vows, than by this ancient stone. I make them here, to ye. So ye will ken, when ye are ready, that I will be waiting for ye. I will still want ye. I will still love and protect ye.”
“Some men would simply take what they want, and force me to wed.”
Euan’s heart sank. “I am no’ Donas Ross, nor even Erik Ross, to bind ye to me with hurt and anger—and fear. Ye ken me better than that.”
She gave him a small, sad smile. “Aye, I do ken ye better than that. If only…”
“If only what, love?”
She sighed. “If only our lives were simpler. If only…well, they are no’. As much as we might wish for this, our lives are on opposite sides of the firth.”
Euan refused to give up. “Perhaps for now, but not forever.”
Muireall’s chin trembled and fresh tears coursed down her cheeks.
Euan stood and pulled her into his arms. He let her cry against his shoulder until she calmed, knowing she cried for more than what they’d declared today. She’d been so strong, he expected she had a month’s worth of tears to shed. Tears she could use to release the fear, the anger and pain of her capture and confinement, and of what Dona
s Ross, that bastard, had done to her. He was certain she hadn’t told him all. He only knew she’d been whipped because she couldn’t deny the scars on her back. What other scars did she bear that the eye could not see?
There must be other things holding her back. She loved him. She could not deny her feelings for him, nor her desire for him. And he loved her and wanted to wed her. To love her for all their lives.
Was there something at Munro more binding than that? The lad, Georgie? Surely someone would care for wee Georgie until he was grown. When they got to Munro, Euan would see to it. He knew better than most what the lad was going through. He would meet the lad and find a suitable place to foster him among the Munro families. Then Muireall would be free of that burden, and she could be his.
Chapter 18
Two days later, Muireall folded the last shift and laid it beside the old faded plaid Annie had given her. She’d need its warmth for the crossing, so she would take it. Annie had tried to give her a new Brodie plaid, but Muireall had refused it. She was not a Brodie and besides, it was new. Someone here could get years of use out of it. Just not her. She’d laid the dresses she’d been given on the bed as neatly as she could. She couldn’t in good conscience take them, either. She’d appreciated every one of them. They’d kept her warm and dry and presentable to Euan’s clan, but they were loans.
Euan’s clan. Not hers. Though it could be hers. Euan wanted it to be. He wanted her. He’d made that plain enough, in word and in deed, his promises heartfelt. Just the thought of his kisses set her tingling. The memory of his arms around her made her hug herself, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same as Euan.
She didn’t want to leave him. But she was getting her wish at last. Or was she?
Aye, she’d been away from Georgie too long.
A knock interrupted her thoughts and she laid aside the corner of the plaid. She opened the door to find Ella.