Highland Devil

by Hannah Howell

  “Just being behind such thick, high walls has done a lot to ease the fear riding me so hard.”

  Nodding, Gybbon listened to the sounds of the keep, the slow softening of the usual noise as the light faded. Harcourt had gained himself a good solid place here with people who were more than happy to call him their laird and bow to Annys as their lady. He also now had a well-trained fighting force.

  As he slowly rubbed his cheek against Mora’s hair, he began to ponder about what he needed to do to have a place to live, some work to do, and get some coin. He had gathered a hefty purse during his travels, but more would help. Gybbon realized such thoughts told him he was done wandering around the land fighting other people’s battles. If he had to fight again it should be to protect something he owned.

  Mora looked up at Gybbon and frowned. He had a look that told her he was meandering through a lot of thoughts and memories. She was not sure she wanted to know what they were but felt compelled to ask.

  “Gybbon, where have ye gone?” she asked softly, and reached up to stroke his cheek.

  Mora’s gentle question and touch yanked him out of his rambling thoughts. “Just thinking over the last year or two and all the places I have been.”

  “Ye were doing a lot of wandering around? Selling your sword?” she asked warily, afraid that might be an insulting question.

  “At times. But I often would wonder if I was really fighting for the right side, and that troubled me. Mostly I would ride to a kinsmon when he needed aid and lend a hand. Sold Jester’s services as stud to a few people.”

  “They liked his coloring, didnae they?”

  “Aye, that was mostly what they hoped to get, but he is also a good, strong stallion who can run fast, and any mon with men to seat cannae resist that either.” He nodded and said, “I ken everywhere he might end up having left a wee Jester.”

  “Then ye had best hope he cannae pass on his temperament.”

  Gybbon laughed. “True. Although tossing the wrong person out of the saddle is nay always such a bad thing.”

  He picked her up, ignoring her gasp of shock, and set her on his lap, facing him, her legs settled just where he had wanted them to, on either side of his legs. He looked at her blushing face and then kissed her frowning mouth, feeling it soften beneath his lips.

  “This is verra, weel, indecent, isnae it?” She looked around the garden but could not see anyone.

  “There is no one here, Mora. No one to see your wee bird legs.”

  “Oh! I dinnae have bird legs.” She smacked him on the arm knowing he did not even feel it.

  Laughing, Gybbon pulled her closer and began to kiss her neck. This was why he was suddenly thinking of all he needed to do so that he could settle in one place. If anyone would have suggested such a thing would happen to him and because of a slender woman who carried a cat around, he would have laughed heartily.

  It was true that his family lines were rife with what many would call strange marriages, ones where the husband and wife were friends, partners, and lovers. Even stranger to many was the fact that most Murray men considered a vow taken was a vow held, so there were no tidy rows of houses holding discarded mistresses. He blamed his parents and, to be precise, all of the elder Murrays.

  Mora was startled when Gybbon set her on his lap. The way he had settled her there made her all too aware of the fact that he wanted her. When she had turned fourteen she had been vigorously pursued by the miller’s son despite her higher station in life. Her mother had taken her aside to give her a talk about men and women. Privacy was a rare luxury few could afford, so Mora had not been completely ignorant about the fact that something went on between men and women, but her mother had very carefully told her precisely what happened. It had nearly been enough to make her want to look closer when she saw some couple wrestling up against a wall, but she had resisted the temptation, sensing it might taint something in her.

  She knew what Gybbon had her straddling, why he was gently moving against her. What troubled her was that she liked it. She wanted to move against him as well, his kisses and the stroking of his hands clouding her mind and making her body ache. Mora knew she should put a stop to this and was thinking on a way to do that when he ended the kiss he had been giving her, leaned back, and took several deep breaths, then letting them out slowly.

  “We are in the gardens,” he muttered, surprised at how firmly he had to remind himself of that fact.

  “I ken it,” she said, resting her head against his chest as she tried to banish the feelings that were making her body tremble.

  Gybbon gently stroked her face and tucked the few stray locks of her hair that had come loose from her braid behind her ears. “Time to go inside.”

  She let him set her down and then stand up. He took her by the hand and began to lead her back to the doors they had slipped out through. Mora wondered if anyone would still be in the kitchens.

  They slipped in with only one lone kitchen maid noticing them and then went up the stairs. By the time they reached the top of the stairs, Gybbon had his arm around her waist. They had reached her door when he suddenly pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  Mora let herself sink into the kiss and enjoyed the heat it stirred within her. She knew what he wanted and she was uneasy. A large part of her wanted it, too, but she was neither a widow nor a tavern maid and she knew she should not. There had been no words of love or even need. No promises she could cling to for a future.

  Then she thought of all that had happened. What good were promises to her when she had a man determined to kill her? She was filled with a grief and anger that had little place to go and his kisses eased all that, gave her a moment to forget them. He was evidently a man who liked to wander and she was one who ached to settle. So what harm was there in allowing herself to just forget all of it in his arms?

  He looked at her and she was certain there was a question in his eyes. A strong reckless and rebellious part of her rose up to answer that question and she opened her door. His eyes widened when she tugged him into her room. Delighted by his surprise, she curled her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the fierce desire she had fought to keep under control.

  As he held the kiss, Gybbon unlaced her dress. He did not know what had possessed her to become so bold, but he was not about to argue with her. He had not been looking forward to a long night twisted up with unrelieved desire. If she had doubts after, he would do his best to ease them.

  He stripped her of her clothing piece by piece, kissing her between each removal. When he dropped the last piece of her clothing to the floor, he picked her up in his arms, flipped back the covers on the bed, and set her down. He kept a close eye on her, watching for any sign that she might be changing her mind, as he hurriedly shed his own clothing. He had to smile at the way she had cocked her leg to hide the red curls at the juncture of her thighs and crossed her arms over her breasts. Gybbon would have liked to stand there and openly look at her, but he did not wish to make her nervous.

  Once he had stripped off his own clothing, he got on the bed with her. He tugged up the covers and then pulled her into his arms. For a moment, he feared the trembling he felt in her was due to fear. Then she wriggled closer to him and he knew it was a need that might well be as strong as his. Her eyes, however, were wide with unease and he gently kissed the corner of each one.

  “Any time ye wish me to cease, just say so,” he told her softly, all the while praying she would not say the words, and he began to slide his hands over all that soft, pale skin he had hungered for.

  Mora tried to relax as he kissed her ears, her neck, her shoulders. His hands, a little roughened from sword use, kept stroking her. When he cupped her breast in one hand, she shivered, and then his lips were there. She gave a soft cry as he sucked and licked at her nipple. When he moved to the other breast to do the same, she felt the grip of nerves and fear leave her, but a strange ache took its place. She stroked his back and held him close and he continued to fea
st.

  So intent was she about how he felt beneath her hands, how his skin felt as it lightly rubbed against her, she lay there and just savored it all. Even the brush of his hair on her skin was a caress. It all put her into a daze of pleasure. Then he slid his hand over her belly and between her legs. She tensed, unaware of what was going on now. He whispered to her even though she only heard the whisper of words, not what he said, and then kissed her as his fingers continued to taunt and stroke her. That ache that had puzzled her grew stronger with each teasing stroke. She held him tighter, wanting something but not sure what that something was.

  “Gybbon,” she said on a sigh.

  “Aye, loving, I ken it.” He settled himself between her legs. “I am sorry, love, but it is going to hurt some.”

  She was just thinking how unfair that was when the pain struck. As quickly as it came it was gone, save for a slight sting, and all she felt was an unusual fullness. He lifted her legs and silently prompted her to put them around his hips. Mora hugged him tightly with arms and legs, then he began to thrust inside her. Gybbon watched her for a while, but she finally had to just close her eyes and feel.

  Soon Gybbon felt her body rise to meet his every thrust. He gave himself over to the pleasure of it, trying very hard to make sure she felt some pleasure as well. As he bent his head to her breasts and sucked, he knew he was reaching the end and he really wanted her to be there with him. Then her heels dug into his back and he knew. He was right there with her when she arched and made a strange little sound that was half moan, half cry. He thrust into her a few more times and felt her body clench around him as he spilled himself inside her. Once done, he tried to get out of her quickly and managed in time to collapse beside her instead of on top of her.

  “Aye,” Mora said suddenly, after several moments of lying with him while they both gasped to catch their breath, “it wouldnae have been a good idea to do that in the garden.”

  Gybbon looked at her, saw the faint smile on her face, and rolling over to hug her, started laughing. “Nay, it wouldnae have been,” was all he managed to gasp out before laughing some more.

  A few moments passed and he realized she had gone to sleep. He glanced around and found Freya curled up at the end of the bed, staring at him. When he felt the heat of a blush on his cheeks, he cursed. He got up to dampen a cloth, cleaned himself, then rinsed it and went to clean off Mora, ignoring her blushes when she woke enough to realize what he was doing. Freya watched him the whole way. He did not like what she eyed with interest and covered himself with his hand as he went back to bed.

  “’Tis but a cursed cat,” he grumbled as he curled himself around Mora, her back hard up against his front.

  He then closed his eyes. His body was hinting at interest in going another round, but he ignored it. She had been a virgin, and the door had required a good battering to open, so he expected there would be some tenderness in the morning. Despite his wants and needs, he was determined to be a gentleman.

  As he forced his body to relax, he thought on what needed to be done about Robert. Instinct told him Robert was not a man one could reason with, could probably not even be tortured into seeing reason. He was going to have to kill the fool but, unless he got the old laird to see it as a needed justice, that could cause a lot of trouble for his family, Sigimor’s as well. This area was an odd cluster of clan holdings, and what affected one could all too easily affect another. All he could do was hope someone else would do it. The man had to have a lot of enemies.

  Robert could be dealt with, Gybbon decided, determined to push the problem aside for now. No matter how the problem was settled, there would be trouble. He was feeling too satisfied and content to worry about that now.

  * * *

  The sun was breaking over the horizon when Gybbon woke and he slipped out of bed. He gathered up his clothes and stepped behind the privacy screen, to relieve himself, wash up, and then dress. When done he walked out and moved over to the bed.

  He was just contemplating kissing Mora awake when he heard the door open. His brother Harcourt stood there with a half smile on his face and crooked his finger in a gesture to tell him to come along. Gybbon sighed and went.

  “Are ye sure that was wise?” Harcourt asked as they started down the stairs.

  “Did someone ask ye that?”

  “Nay.” Harcourt laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “Sometimes I wish they had, but then I realize if they had, and I had listened, there would be no Benet.”

  “Aye, and ye cannae want that. Weel, it probably wasnae wise, but I find I simply dinnae care.” He frowned. “Unless she frets o’er it.”

  “Weel, ye were sneaky enough last night that Annys was shocked to find ye were gone from your bedchamber. She woke me up to ask if ye had told me ye were leaving. So ye lost me a nice sleep and some morning time with Annys.”

  “Since I didnae get any morning time, I dinnae think I can work up any sorrow for ye.”

  “All that roaming ye have done has made your heart cold, brother.” He grinned when Gybbon laughed. “Are ye done with it?”

  “I am thinking I might be. Will have to see how matters go.”

  “Ah, so she has ye thinking of staying in one place.”

  Gybbon shook his head. “I just started thinking on it and have made no decision. Just wondered while doing it, if she was why I suddenly started thinking on it. One usually needs a reason to stop and settle in one spot. But then I would have that silly cat.”

  “Roban is up with Annys, so we dinnae have to worry about Freya.”

  Gybbon looked down to see the cat strutting along with them. “I didnae e’en see her get out.”

  “She slipped out the moment I opened the door. She has seen Roban but then ran up the stairs and disappeared. I just dinnae want her getting hurt by the bigger cat.”

  “Oh, nay. Mora adores the fool cat.”

  “The moment a woman or a child names an animal, it becomes important and sometimes a great pet.”

  “Like Roberta, who is not for the pot.”

  “Exactly, although the stupid beast is near full grown now.” He walked into the hall and hailed Nicolas, who moved to the head table to sit next to Harcourt while Gybbon sat on his other side.

  “The offer to be my second still stands.”

  “As does Nicolas,” said Gybbon.

  “Then ye can be my third.”

  “I dinnae think ye can have a third.”

  “I can have anything I want; I am a laird.” Harcourt grinned at them, and both Nicolas and Gybbon laughed.

  “That ye certainly are. And how often do ye tell your wife?”

  “All the time, and she listens raptly.”

  “Then does as she pleases.”

  “Aye.” He laughed along with the other men, then grew serious. “Then what about the bit of land I talked on?” Harcourt said abruptly, as he heaped some porridge into his bowl.

  “That I might consider, but nay now. I did earn a nice purse of money, but it will take time to collect it all, as I left it at various kinsmen’s to keep it safe from thieves.”

  “Ye could have some of what is between us and the border.”

  “Nay. I would choose a patch between ye and Nigel. I dinnae want, nor can afford to build a big keep, Harcourt. A nice fortified house would be it and better it be placed between two weel-fortified keeps. Gives me two places to choose between if I have to get to safety.”

  Nicolas nodded. “Aye, good plan.”

  Harcourt lightly smacked Nicolas on the back of his head. “A keep would be better.”

  “I would be ready for my grave before I got the coin to build one of those,” Gybbon said.

  Sighing heavily, Harcourt nodded. “True. Might be better to just make sure the manor is as strong as it can be.”

  “That can be done. Time to think on it, anyway. Now, I need to keep my mind on how to end this threat from Robert Ogilvy.”

  “I am nay sure ye can,” said Nicolas. “The mon has a
lready killed a number of people, is trying to kill his own father, to get what he wants. Any mon who is willing to do such things is nay going to end his campaign because it does nay make sense or has grown too hard. If he was, he would have stepped back when he realized Sigimor was involved in protecting the lady and that boy. Any sane mon would.”

  Gybbon laughed. “True enough.”

  For a while, they discussed several ideas concerning what could be done about Robert. Tiring of that, they went out to indulge in some sword practice. It was between him and Nicolas because Harcourt had to sit down due to his healing foot. His men watched and occasionally took a turn. Gybbon realized how much he had missed such comradery while roaming the country. It was just another reason to stop roving, he decided.

  By the time it ended, Gybbon was weary and needed a wash but had to admit it had been a good way to pass the time. He went to his bedchamber and washed up, then went to Mora’s bedchamber. All he found was a maid who directed him down to the lady’s sitting room. Annys had seen Jolene’s and had decided she needed one. He could see the reason behind such a thing as he suspected it was a nice place to go when men started their boasting or talk of old battles.

  He stepped inside and saw Mora immediately. She looked healthy again and was deep into a discussion over the making of a shirt. As quietly as he could he walked over and sat in the chair facing the two women on the settle.

  “Are ye done clashing swords together?” asked Annys.

  “Aye and nay. Harcourt didnae try to join in. He sat down and delighted us all with his opinions on our skills.” Gybbon smiled when Annys laughed.

  “I am sure ye enjoyed that.”

  “And he is arguing about me setting up some place to live near here. This time I at least came to the decision that, if I did, it would be a manor house, well fortified, set between here and Nigel.”

  “There is a lovely spot there, almost right at the halfway mark.”

  “I ken it. Have often studied it.” He grinned at Annys and she smiled back at him. “But there is nay a hurry to do it. And,” he added as he looked at Mora, “there is a certain problem that needs to be ended.”