Surrender to the Highlander

by Lynsay Sands

  Her bedroom door was open and servants were busily pouring in buckets of steaming water when Edith led the trio back to her room. She expected Cameron and Fearghas to wait in the hall, but they entered and stood on either side of her until the servants had finished and left. Only once she and Moibeal were all who remained did they nod and return to the hall, pulling the door closed behind them.

  "Ye do no' really think yer husband's brother has been sleeping in yer father's room, do ye?" Moibeal asked as she helped her undress.

  Edith sighed at the question, but didn't answer right away. The truth was, she didn't. She doubted very much if Rory would trouble himself to spread flowers on the floor to scent the rushes. However, she didn't want the castle to suddenly fill with tales of her father's ghost inhabiting his old room either. She didn't need maids afraid to clean the room once she and Niels moved to it. Especially when it wasn't true. It couldn't be. There was no such thing as ghosts, she told herself. Besides, her father really had hated lavender. It would be the last thing his ghost would scent the room with.

  "M'lady."

  "Hmm?" Edith glanced to Moibeal and sighed as she realized the girl was still waiting for her answer. Sighing, she stepped into the hot water, wincing at just how hot it was, and then eased to sit down. It was so hot it stole her breath for a moment, but once she'd adjusted, she sighed and said, "'Tis no' me father's ghost, Moibeal."

  "Oh, I ken that," she said at once, a little too quickly. "But do ye really think 'tis Lord Rory?"

  "I do no' ken," she said rather than admit she doubted that. Much as the girl denied it, Edith knew Moibeal was as superstitious as the next person. "I shall ask him later."

  "Aye," the maid said and asked. "Shall I wash yer hair first?"

  "Aye, please," Edith murmured.

  Moibeal helped to wash her hair, then left her to her bath and quickly collected her discarded clothes.

  Edith scrubbed herself up, and then relaxed in the water for a bit. The aches and stiffness were gone, and she was just considering getting out when the bedchamber door opened. Glancing over her shoulder, Edith smiled when she saw that it was Niels. Her smile widened when she saw the pitcher and two goblets he carried.

  He smiled in return and then glanced to Moibeal and opened the door wider. The maid understood the silent request at once and hurried out of the room. Niels closed it silently behind her and then carried the pitcher and goblets to the bedside table and poured two glasses.

  "I apologize fer taking so long," he said, setting down the pitcher and crossing the room to collect the large strip of linen Moibeal had left to warm over the chair by the fire. Opening it as he walked toward her, he said, "Rory wanted to speak to me."

  "'Tis fine," Edith said, gathering her courage to stand up. She knew she shouldn't be so flustered at the thought of it. He was her husband. And she'd been as good as naked with him in the meadow. She also must have been when they consummated the wedding. However, she felt as shy in that moment as if he'd never even glimpsed a naked ankle, and they'd not even kissed.

  Pausing next to the tub, Niels held the towel open for her and said, "Remind me to tell ye about it after."

  "After what?" Edith asked, trying to distract herself as she stood quickly and stepped out of the tub and into the linen. Much to her relief, he closed it around her at once, but much to her surprise, he then picked her up and carried her back to the table and set her on the edge of it right in front of one of the chairs.

  Eyeing him with confusion, she opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing, only to find his hands cupping her face as his mouth suddenly covered hers. Hands rising tentatively to his arms, Edith started out simply holding on as he kissed her. But she was quickly clutching at him and kissing him eagerly back.

  When his hands slid away from her face and glided down to the top of the linen to unwrap it, Edith gasped. She then moaned into his mouth as his hands found and cupped her breasts so that he could toy with her nipples using a thumb and finger of each hand.

  Edith reached for him then, not his plaid, or his shirt. Her hands went straight for the gold, one lifting his plaid so the other could find the hardness waiting beneath. The moment she did, Niels jerked in shock and then was suddenly gone.

  Opening her eyes at once, Edith blinked at him as she saw that he'd dropped to sit on the chair and was urging it closer to the table. Her legs had been open with him standing between them, but she started to close them self-consciously now. She never finished the action. Niels caught each under the knee, tugged her closer so that she was half-off the table and had to lean back on her arms to keep from teetering off it. He then pulled her legs farther open and bent to bury his face between them.

  Edith cried out at the first flick of his tongue across her eager flesh, but it was followed by many more such cries as he feasted on her. She tried to muffle the sounds she was making, first by covering her mouth with her hand, and then by biting on her middle finger too, but the sounds kept coming. Some were breathless cries, some were pleading gasps, some were almost screeches, but Edith was quite sure the men in the hall probably heard every last one. She was equally sure that everybody in the castle heard her final, delirious scream as her body exploded with pleasure to leave her a stunned, trembling mass lying limp on the tabletop with her head turned toward the fire.

  Edith was aware of it when Niels stood and removed his tartan and shirt, but other than roll her eyes toward him to watch, she didn't seem to have the strength to move. When he then scooped her up, carried her to the large fur in front of the fire and knelt to lay her on it, she caught his arms and then his hands as Niels straightened to kneel beside her. She was trying to hold him to her. But she couldn't.

  "Ye're a feast fer the eyes, wife," he murmured, simply sitting on his haunches looking at her. "Ye're hair looks afire and shadows are painting yer skin."

  Her energy was slowly returning now, enough for her to start to feel embarrassed at just lying there with him looking at her, and Edith slid one hand up his leg, toward his groin. She never made contact. Niels immediately shifted to lie next to her on his side.

  Bracing his head on his hand with his elbow on the furs, he smiled. "Recovering, are ye?"

  Edith nodded, and touched his face gently.

  "Would ye like more?" Niels asked, running one hand lightly along her thigh.

  Breath catching in her throat, Edith hesitated, but when his hand stopped just before it would have found her, she gave a jerky nod.

  "Aye," Niels breathed, letting his fingers glide up between the protective folds to touch her. He ran one finger gently over her and Edith closed her eyes and moaned.

  "I love it when ye let me hear yer pleasure," he said softly, strumming his finger over her again and bringing about another one. "And I love how wet ye get fer me. As if yer body's weeping fer me to love ye."

  "Aye," Edith groaned, her hips beginning to shift into his caress, and then she stilled as he pressed a finger into her. Her eyes flew open, and she peered at him. "Niels, please."

  "Please what, love?" Niels asked, sliding his finger back out and then caressing her with his thumb as it slid back in. "Do ye like this?"

  "Aye," she gasped, writhing under his touch.

  "I do too. I like how yer body clings to me, it wants me in ye."

  "Aye," Edith groaned.

  "Do ye want me in ye, love?"

  "Oh, God, aye!" she cried, thrusting violently up into his caresses now.

  "Find yer pleasure fer me, love, and I'll take ye." This time he didn't give her a chance to reply, but leaned forward to claim her mouth with his and began thrusting his tongue into her in time with the finger below. The hand that had been holding up his head then dropped to caress and knead her breast at the same time and finally pinched her nipple. And that was when Edith began to shudder, her body quaking as she screamed into his mouth.

  And suddenly Niels was on top of her. She didn't notice the shift until he was thrusting into her and she felt the
difference. This wasn't his finger. This was much bigger. She felt the slightest pinch and then he was in, filling her and forcing her body to accommodate him. Edith cried out again and clutched at his shoulders, her hips still thrusting as her pleasure continued to pulse from her core, clinging and squeezing him.

  Niels groaned through his teeth and thrust back repeatedly, and then he suddenly rose up, caught her legs by the ankles and drew them over his shoulders. Edith gaped up at him in surprise and then cried out when he reached down to where they were joined to continue to caress her; it prolonged her body's response as he rode the wave he'd caused. For Edith it seemed to go on forever and she was sure she couldn't take it, that her heart would stop or she'd simply die there underneath him, overwhelmed by so much sensation.

  Just when she thought that, Niels stiffened above her, his body plunging so deep she cried out with it, and then she scored his back with her nails and screamed as her pleasure intensified and then shattered.

  Edith woke to find it was daylight and she was lying with her head on Niels's chest as he lazily caressed her back. She lay still, simply enjoying it for a moment, and then let him know she was awake by blurting, "I felt a pinch when ye--" She paused abruptly, unwilling to put words to what they'd been doing.

  Fortunately, Niels seemed to understand exactly when she'd felt the pinch without her saying so, because he hugged her briefly and said, "Sorry, wife. They do say the first time is painful for the lass."

  "The first time?" Edith asked with surprise, lifting her head to peer at him. "But I thought--There was blood on the linen and . . ." Her voice trailed away to silence as he began to chuckle. Eyebrows rising, she asked, "What is so funny, my lord husband?"

  "What ye thought was blood on the linens was the preserves, lass," he explained with amusement.

  "The preserves?" she echoed, and then her eyes widened as she recalled Magda's advice and what she'd done with Jaimie's preserves.

  "Aye," he said with a faint smile. "It got on the bed when I laid ye in it after ye lost consciousness. By morning it had dried and looked enough like blood that we hung the linen. That way ye'd be protected did Brodie return ere our marriage was consummated and try to have it annulled."

  "Oh," she breathed and lowered her head to his chest, her mind whirling with thoughts. She'd thought he'd consummated the marriage while she was unconscious, but he hadn't. Niels had found another way to protect her.

  "'Tis morning," he murmured suddenly.

  Smiling, Edith shook her head slightly where it lay, and let her hand glide down to his hip. "Nay. 'Tis still night, husband," Edith said as she let her hand slide to claim his semi-erect manhood.

  "Again?" He sounded amused, but his voice was also husky. She was beginning to recognize that as a sign that he wanted her. Although she would have known anyway since he immediately hardened fully in her hand.

  "Aye. Again," Edith said, caressing him.

  "Greedy," he accused, but sounded pleased and the hand at her back drifted down to squeeze her bottom, before drifting between her legs from behind to tease her.

  Edith moaned and kissed his chest appreciatively. They had been in bed ever since he'd walked in on her bath the afternoon before. Well, really they had not been in the bed the whole time. She'd been on the table, then they'd been on the fur, then he'd carried her to the bed and made love to her again before they'd drifted off. They'd woken up several times in the night, each time reaching for each other again.

  In truth, Edith couldn't seem to get enough of him. The pleasure he gave her was heady, and she just wanted more and more. She wanted to learn more too. Edith hadn't known there were so many positions and so many different things to do. And with each new position, her confidence grew and she became bolder.

  "We need to talk first," Niels growled, but his fingers continued to fondle her, and he didn't stop her caressing him.

  "Aye. Talk," she murmured, shifting her head so that she could lick and then nip at his nipple.

  Niels groaned, but then caught her hand and dragged it from his erection before grabbing her by the shoulders and forcing her up and away from him. Expression serious, he said, "We really do need to talk, Edith. 'Tis important."

  She considered his face for a moment, and then sighed and nodded.

  "Thank ye," he murmured and then shifted to sit up in bed with his back against the wall.

  "What for?" Edith asked uncertainly, shifting to sit next to him.

  "Had ye pressed the issue, I could no' have resisted loving ye again, and this is important," he promised her.

  For a moment, Edith was tempted to press the issue after all, but he'd said it was important and his expression had turned grim, so she behaved herself and tugged the linens up to cover herself as she waited for him to begin.

  "Rory came to me yesterday afternoon," he began in a soft voice.

  "Aye, when we returned from the market," she said.

  Niels nodded. "He had something o' a plan to catch the killer."

  "Really?" she asked with interest. "Tell me."

  He hesitated, and then sighed and said, "His plan was fer ye to die."

  "What?" Edith squawked, jumping to her knees to gawk at him with disbelief.

  "Aye, that was me reaction," Niels said dryly. "But his thinking was that we fake ye dying, lay ye out here as if ye've been cleaned and prepared fer burial and then see who steps forward to try to claim Drummond."

  Edith shook her head. "That will no' work. We already ken that Tormod would be the next in line and I am quite sure he is no' the one behind all o' this. So if the killer is really after Drummond, they may be just trying to make him look guilty so that he is blamed for everything and hung, leaving them to make a claim for the title." She frowned and added, "And if we fake me death and then do no' accuse Tormod the killer may just kill him to get him out o' the way."

  "Aye," Niels grimaced. "Well, that was no' me argument, but 'tis all true."

  "What was yer argument?" Edith asked curiously.

  "That I'd no' risk ye that way," he said solemnly. "I pointed out that the murderer might slip into yer room while we had ye laid out pretending to be dead and stab ye or some such thing when they realized ye were still breathing."

  "Oh, aye," she said weakly. "That would be unfortunate."

  "Most unfortunate," Niels agreed dryly, and then sighed and admitted, "But as we talked I came up with an idea o' me own."

  "Oh?" Edith asked with interest. "What is that?"

  "To give them the opportunity to poison ye, and catch them at it," he answered.

  Edith raised her eyebrows. This did not sound much better than Rory's idea on first blush.

  Noting her expression, he explained, "Ye would no' be poisoned."

  "Oh, good," she said on a laugh.

  Niels grimaced, and said, "We will go below to break our fast. Ye'll notice that Alick is no' there and ask after him," he instructed.

  "All right," Edith agreed solemnly.

  "When ye do, I'll say I sent him to Buchanan and then on to MacDonnell with messages to let them ken we're no' coming after all and what is happening here."

  "But ye did no' send him anywhere," she guessed.

  "Nay, I did no'. He's in his room right now, waiting to come in here and hide."

  "Hide?" Edith's eyebrows rose and she glanced around. "He could hide under the bed, or in the larger chest there. Moibeal has mostly emptied that one out, I think, and we can transfer whatever is left to the other chests."

  "Under the bed may be better," Niels said glancing around the room as well. "We'd have to put holes in the chest so that he could see out otherwise and I do no' want his view obscured in any way."

  Edith nodded and then turned back to him as he continued.

  "Anyway, after I explain about Alick being away, ye should rub yer forehead and complain that ye've a headache. I'll suggest ye go lay down fer a bit, that it may help. You then say that ye'll just fetch some cider to take up with ye and I'll say, nay, I'
ll take care o' it. Ye go ahead."

  "Then I come up here where Alick is hiding," she suggested.

  "Nay, ye wait out o' sight on the upper landing," Niels said firmly. "I will fetch the cider or mead or something else, but rather than take it up meself, I'll tell Moibeal to take it up to you and then return to the table to talk to me brother. And then ye come downstairs before Moibeal can get to the top and tell her to put it in yer room, and then to return and find ye in the kitchens, that ye want a word with her and Jaimie ere ye lay down. Ye must say it loudly enough that all can hear," he added, and then continued, "And then ye go to the kitchens."

  "So, Moibeal will take the drink up and put it in the bedchamber where Alick is hiding, and then come below, leaving it alone," Edith said slowly.

  "Aye. I'm hoping our killer will risk slipping up here to poison the drink ere ye return and Alick will see who 'tis."

  Edith nodded and said cautiously, "It may work. If they're desperate enough to risk coming up here when everyone is in the great hall and they might be seen."

  "Aye." Niels frowned and then sighed and said, "We shall just have to hope they are desperate enough fer the title o' laird to risk it."

  "If they are even after that," Edith said glumly.

  "What else could they be after?" Niels asked with surprise.

  Edith shook her head. "I'm no' sure, but the killings . . ." Swallowing, she said, "Roderick and Hamish suffered horribly before dying, and me father would ha'e too had he no' already been weakened by his heart complaint. I suffered too," she added, "And I ken Rory thinks I survived because me body kept rejecting the poison, but the last time me drink was poisoned, he said that the killer had increased the poison and I surely would have died had I drank more."

  "Aye, I recall," Niels said when she paused.

  "Well, why did they no' give a stronger dose the first time they poisoned us?" she asked quietly. "Why put in just enough to kill them after great suffering? From what ye said, Brodie and the others died quickly, so the killer kenned how much to use, and simply did no' do that for the wine that killed me father and brothers and made me sick."

  "Ye think they wanted ye to suffer," he said thoughtfully.