His breath actually caught when he finally bared her to his gaze. Her breasts were fuller and her hips a little rounder, but she was still as beautiful as he remembered. His gaze fell to the faint scars bracketing her womb and his heart clenched with the meaning of such marks; they were the marks of her work to give his son life.
When she suddenly covered the marks with her hands, he gently removed them. Harcourt bent his head and kissed each one before turning to face her. She was blushing just as she used to and he still found it endearing.
“I may nay be able to openly claim the boy, may nay e’en have the right to think like that since I held to the plan to breed him and hand him to David, but I still thank ye.” He traced each scar with his fingers. “With so many healers in my clan, I am nay as ignorant of the risk a woman takes to bear a child, as weel as the pain she endures and the strength she needs to bring life into the world. So thank ye.”
Annys reached up and stroked his cheek. “I am the one who has had the blessing of Benet so I think I should thank ye.”
He grinned as he leaned over her. “Then what do ye say to us heartily thanking each other for a wee while?”
She lifted her hand and gave a come here wave with her fingers. When he growled softly, she laughed and he smothered the sound with his kiss. Annys had the thought that it was pure heaven to at last be skin to skin with him before passion’s fire cleared her mind of everything but the taste and feel of him.
Harcourt kissed her until his head swam from the heady taste of her. Then he began to kiss his way down to her breasts. The way she gasped and squirmed beneath his caresses strained his control over his own passion. He needed to be buried deep in her heat but he was determined that she share in his pleasure, that she get the full measure of her own. He slid his hand down over her belly and between her legs. The fact she was already wet nearly snapped those last threads of control he clung to.
Annys thought she ought to be feeling pain as the fire inside her grew and grew. She caressed every part of his strong body she could reach, loving the feel of his skin beneath her hands. His every caress and kiss only made her hungrier for him. She realized she needed him joined with her soon, if not sooner. The tightness in her belly was growing so fast she knew she risked being done before he had even entered her.
She slid her hand down his body until she reached the erection she could feel pressing against her leg. He certainly felt ready to her, she thought as she stroked him and lightly rubbed the dampness from the tip with her thumb. The groan he gave sounded as if it welled up from some place deep inside of him. Then he grabbed her hand and pulled it away. A flicker of panic went through her as she feared she had overstepped.
“Och, lass, that broke me,” he said, his voice little more than a low growl. “I apologize now if it is too soon for you.”
Before she could tell him that it was not too soon, he was thrusting inside her. Annys gasped and shook with the pleasure of him inside her. She had the odd thought that it was where he belonged and then he began to thrust in and out of her, the tightness in her belly growing almost painful. She clung to him and was returning his kiss when that tightness suddenly broke apart. He growled when her cries of release fell into his mouth.
Annys was still shaking from the force of her pleasure when he found his. The warmth of his seed as it spilled inside of her made her shiver with another small wave of pleasure. She wrapped her arms around him when he slumped over her, careful to fall a little to the side so as not to put his full weight on her. It was just as wonderful as she had remembered, she mused, as she held him close while she fought to catch her breath.
This was what had haunted her dreams for five long years. At the time the memories had caused her to sink into a sadness it was difficult to shake free of. Benet had helped. She would look at him and tell herself whatever heart pain she suffered over Harcourt was worth it for the blessing of her son.
It was several moments before she became aware of the less beautiful parts of lovemaking. A little longer before the stickiness between her legs and sweat drying on her skin became a bit irritating. Just as she was about to try to get out of bed with some semblance of dignity to wash off, Harcourt rose and went to get the bowl of washing water and a couple of rags. She had to smile as they both hurriedly cleaned themselves off, both of them clearly eager to be done with the chore so they could be skin to skin again.
Harcourt put away the bowl and washrag and quickly slipped back into bed. He sprawled on his back and tugged Annys into his arms. A sigh of pure contentment escaped him as her soft skin pressed against his. He took her hand from where it rested on his chest and kissed her palm.
“I was a wee bit worried there that I was going to be as quick as an untried lad and leave ye wanting,” he said.
“Nay, ye werenae. Truth tell, I was beginning to think ye were moving too slowly.”
He laughed. “Then, as always, we were matched in our pace.”
“I often thought of those times we spent together,” she said quietly. “I confess, at times I could almost hate ye for showing me how much was missing from my marriage but then I would remember that I wouldnae have Benet if nay for all that.”
“I often thought of them, too,” he confessed in an equally soft voice. “As I became less of a reckless lad in heart and mind and became the mon I should have been even back then, I was always torn about it.”
“I dinnae think ye were so verra reckless and ken weel how skilled David was at getting people to do what he wanted them to.”
“He did convince me when everything I had e’er been taught by my family should have held firmly against him. But”—he kissed the top of her head—“I was lusting after ye and I think that pushed me to agree when I might have stood on my principles otherwise.”
“I am sorry that David made ye agree to all that but I will ne’er be sorry that ye did.”
“Because there is Benet.”
“Aye, there is Benet. And whate’er else was wrong or hurtful and may still be, without it all happening as it did, there would be no Benet.”
“And that is a gift I wouldnae wish to see lost.”
He stared up at the ceiling and thought on all that stood between them for a moment. Then he decided he was wasting a moment that should be peaceful and quiet, and, just maybe, would work to soothe any of those hurts she spoke of. He idly stroked her arm and wondered when he could make love to her again.
Chapter Thirteen
The pounding on the door made Harcourt curse. He was enjoying the warmth and peace of lying naked with Annys. His body was pleasantly sated and he could savor the feel of her soft curves without the press of a frantic need. He had even been ready to enjoy that pleasure for a second time.
Just as he opened his mouth to order the one banging on the door to leave, a small, soft hand covered his mouth. He looked at Annys and she shook her head. He muttered another curse when she slipped out of bed and began to dress. Knowing there would be no returning to their lovemaking, he got up and started to dress as well. He comforted himself with the knowledge that, now that her resistance had ended, there would be other times they could enjoy.
“M’lady?” Joan called from the other side of the door.
“Just a moment, Joan,” Annys called back.
Annys struggled to bury all sense of embarrassment as she hurried to dress. Not only had Joan made it very clear that she thought Annys should take Harcourt as a lover, she was a widow, a mother, and five and twenty. She had earned the right to do as she pleased. Glancing back at a now-dressed Harcourt who was tidying the rumpled covers on the bed, she nearly blushed. There was no question that she had been pleased, she thought, and then went to let Joan in.
“What is it, Joan?” she asked as the woman stood before her, wringing her hands.
“Biddy has been found,” Joan said.
“Alive?”
Joan shook her head. “Nay, they found her hanging from a tree a few miles from here.”
“Nay, they want Sir Harcourt to come meet with them where she is. Said they want to be certain there is naught there to lead them to that bastard causing all this trouble.” Joan glanced at Harcourt. “If ye move fast there may still be enough light to find something.”
Using every drop of willpower she had, Annys stopped herself from blushing. She had not realized how late in the day, or night, it was. She narrowed her eyes when she saw the hint of a smile curve Joan’s mouth. Joan clearly could not wait to start her crowing.
“Ye are verra certain that no one saw her leaving here or e’en running away from here?” Annys asked, attempting to distract Joan from what she was seeing.
“I think the men on the walls are looking for someone trying to get in. Might nay be looking for someone using the shadows and all to get away from Glencullaich. And when ye think of how often she slipped in and out of the keep with none kenning what she was doing, weel, she obviously had one skill.”
“We shall have to make a verra thorough search for the place she used to slip out of the keep this time when the light allows for it.”
“Ye ken she willingly ran to her death, dinnae ye?” Harcourt asked the two women in a quiet voice.
Annys lowered her head and sighed, but Joan nodded and said, “I ken it. She courted it the first time she fed our David that poison. S’truth, I heard ye warned her about exactly that. Aye, e’en that other prisoner warned her. She was facing a hanging and none of us wanted a part in it e’en though we kenned it was weel deserved.”
“So ye came to tell Sir Harcourt that he must go to his men?” asked Annys.
“Aye, and that the evening meal is being served. Didnae think ye wanted to miss that.” Joan nudged Harcourt toward the door. “Go on with ye. I need to tidy m’lady’s hair so she doesnae look like she just crawled out of bed.”
Harcourt heard Annys’s outraged protest as Joan closed the door behind him.
“Joan, ye presume too much,” said Annys, trying to sound as haughty as possible even as she allowed the woman to push her into a seat and begin to fix her hair.
“Are ye going to try to tell me that I am wrong?” When Annys said nothing, Joan nodded. “Didnae think so. Ye ne’er did like to lie.”
“It wasnae right,” Annys mumbled, guilt sneaking back into her heart to replace the lingering warmth of passion. It was clear that her moment of making a firm decision had not been the epiphany she had thought it to be, but merely a momentary change of mind.
“Huh. I would have thought that one weel skilled in the loving of a lass.”
Annys laughed but the burst of good humor faded quickly. “Och, nay doubt. I suspicion he didnae spend many nights alone whilst we were apart. Truth tell, he said as much.”
“Weel, ye were still another mon’s wife.”
“I ken it. I leap from pleased to guilty, from wishing he would stay to wanting him to leave, and from thinking of how he spent those years we were apart and hating every woman he has e’er bedded. ’Tis a madness. I dinnae like it.”
Finishing with her hair, Joan moved to stand in front of Annys. “Ye are just a lass in love. ’Tis a madness of a kind. Always has been. Always will be. I suffered the like for my mon, Nial, whilst I had him, God rest his sweet soul. It eases.”
“Mayhap, but what happens if that love isnae returned?”
“Ye think he doesnae care for you?”
“He cares, but does he love? And if he loves, does he plan to stay? The mon has his own keep to run, the people there depending upon him. I have to stay here to care for Benet’s inheritance. ’Tis nay a simple matter of sharing a love. It ne’er was.”
“Ah, nay.” Joan frowned for a moment and then shrugged. “Then take what ye can, savor it, and revel in what ye can have now. Ye have certainly earned it.”
“’Tis what I told myself. But, the people . . .”
“Willnae care. I have told ye that but ’tis clear ye didnae heed me. Wisdom wasted. Ye are a widow, lass, and ye ken weel that foolish men believe we cannae abide being without one of them sharing our bed. ’Tis a witless belief we widows have long used to our advantage. All the world expects is for one to be discreet. Dinnae flaunt it and no one will care.”
Annys was not sure she believed that, but would consider it. She doubted she could step away from Harcourt now anyway. Not only would he not allow it, she had now had a memory replaced by fact and her body already craved more. She also knew enough widows to know that Joan spoke the truth. There was the hint of freedom in widowhood as long as a woman was discreet. The fact that everyone knew who fathered Benet actually aided her. Harcourt was an experienced lover, one she had known before through her own husband’s prodding. And she would not be surprised to discover that, since David had approved of the man, they did, too.
“I had thought I had decided but then I began to be not so decisive again but, I promise, I will try to clear away all this confusion in my head,” she told Joan.
“Fair enough,” Joan said as she joined Annys in walking down to the hall.
The evening meal was almost finished when Harcourt and the others came in. She could tell by the looks on their faces that it had been a gruesome task. A shiver went through her when she all too clearly recalled the hangings her father had made her attend.
When Harcourt sat down next to her, she briefly tensed, afraid of what people in the hall might think. A quick look around showed her that they were barely paying any attention to the fact that their lady was sitting with the man who looked so much like her son. Something inside of her breathed a huge sigh of relief. Joan was right. They did not care. It would be a long, long time before she ever admitted that to Joan though.
“It was bad?” she asked quietly.
“Aye.” Harcourt took a long drink of ale as a young boy put some platters of food near him. “Probably nay a thing to speak of during a meal.”
“Nay, although I do have a verra strong stomach. Recall what I told ye about my father and his rules.”
He frowned, angered yet again by what her father had made her do as a child. “There is one thing I wanted to ask about all that,” he said as he began to eat. “What happened to the family of the mon ye saw that day.”
“They survived,” she muttered, and turned her attention to the stewed apples she had put on her plate.
Harcourt studied her face and began to grin. “Nay with pig scraps though, aye?”
“Nay, no more pig scraps.” Then she saw by his grin that he knew exactly why that poor man’s family had survived and she sighed. “I stole the food. May have been silly but I was almost certain that my father wouldnae hang me if I was caught.”
“And are they in the village here?”
She rolled her eyes, not very pleased that he could guess what she would have done so easily. “Aye. She and all six of her children. She is Master Kenneth’s wife.”
“How did ye manage that?”
“I took a chance and sent Nigel, my newly betrothed husband, a letter. I told him about the family and why I was helping them and asked if I could bring them. E’en asked if he had any good ideas about how I could explain why they were coming with me. He wrote a letter to my father and informed him that I should come with my own maid and that he would prefer it to be a grown woman, preferably a widow. Weel, my father had no idea who was in the village unless they did something he felt he needed to hang them for so I kindly offered a suggestion, got Ilsa all cleaned up and dressed well but nay too well, and presented her to my father. He grunted and waved us out of his way so we took that as an aye and off we went. Master Kenneth took one look at Ilsa when she went to the village to see the cottage Nigel had readied for her and that was that.”
“E’en with six bairns at her skirts?”
“Ye would have to see the way Master Kenneth looks at her. He would have taken her if she had had ten bairns at her skirts.”
“And probably if she also had one in her belly,” said Joan from the other side of Annys. “I recall thinking there would be some jealousy for Master Kenneth was a fine catch as a husband but Ella, who had fancied him, told me she took one look at the way the mon looked at Ilsa and gave it all up. Said the fool would ne’er see anyone else anyway.”
“And so Ilsa and her bairns live weel in the village now. A fine ending.”
“Aye,” agreed Callum who sat across the table from Harcourt. “A verra fine ending.”
“Got better when she brought Ilsa the fruit to grow.”
“Joan,” Annys hissed but her maid ignored her.
“Annys is gifted with plants and Ilsa had skill enough to learn to tend them. She also makes some verra fine things with the fruits, too. But it helped make her enough coin that she could stay in her cottage and for Annys to cease taking the risk of stealing food.” She saw Annys scowling at her. “Ilsa told me that years ago. I was wondering why she brought those plants all the way here when she was supposed to be watching you.”
“I didnae plan that far.”
“I think ye did a lot of planning for a child,” said Harcourt. “And I thank ye ladies for the tale. It was nice to hear the good of life after seeing what we did.” He looked around and saw that most of the others were gone now.
“It was verra bad, wasnae it,” Annys said and could not stop herself from touching his hand in a soft stroke of comfort.
“She fought until the end.” He decided not to tell them that it was not only the hanging Biddy had had to fight and prayed the skilled Joan would not say anything if she happened to look at the body and see how it had been cleaned up. “’Tis always worse when ye can see that. I think the bastard must have hoisted her up there himself and just held on until it was over.”
Highland Guard Page 16