The flash in her eyes told him she wanted to find out what other pleasures were suggested in the ornate book. For now, he needed no other inspiration but her. Aidan brought her closer, wrapped the length of her hair around his fist and drew her mouth to his, tasting the sweetness he knew he would find.
* * *
The night passed quickly and he left her sleeping the next morning with a whispered word and soft kiss on the mouth that showed she’d been well loved during that night. And over the next days and nights, Aidan showed her that there was nothing and nowhere forbidden between two lovers who sought pleasure together.
Though she balked at displays of affections when others could see them, she never refused him anything when in private. His favourite had been finding her on her knees in the garden, digging out weeds. He’d crept up from behind her, wrapped his arms around her to hold her up and taken her that way—fast, deep thrusts with her not moving except to push back against him until they finished. Then, he discovered that cleaning off the mud had brought as much pleasure as getting dirty had been.
As the time came for his parents to leave for MacCallum lands, Aidan knew that this time of having who and what he wanted was coming to an end. He just worried over Catriona’s reaction when he asked her to remain with him after his required marriage.
For he had discovered that getting who he wanted this time made him want her even more. And he did not wish to part from the woman who gave him all that she was, asking nothing in return.
Chapter Fifteen
The snows had melted from the high mountain passes and, in two days, she and Connor and the others would journey to the lands of her family for her brother’s wedding to Rurik’s daughter. She still marvelled that Athdar had survived Isobel’s pursuit of him when her father had been opposed to the match. But, Athdar saving the man’s life could have been the turning point in taking him seriously.
As Jocelyn walked through the village, visiting the sick and checking with the merchants and the healer about supplies, she looked for any sign of Catriona MacKenzie there. Connor had done as she’d asked and sent Aidan off on a task that would keep him from the village this day for she wished to have words with the woman who’d clearly captured her son’s heart...whether he knew it or not.
The signs were there for all to see—he spoke of her often, whether at table or while carrying out his duties. He praised her abilities and her attempts to learn to read and write. He spoke of her garden. He spoke of her quiet sense of humour. That he spoke of her at all—a woman he’d pursued, set up as his leman and now spent every possible moment with—told Jocelyn how serious this was.
He was a healthy young man and, like any of that age, had a string of women in his bed and he in theirs. ’Twould always be so when their blood ran hot and they had only to beckon with a soft gesture or word. But Aidan had never once spoken the names of any of the ones before Catriona to his parents. Never once paid his own coins to buy her a house. And he’d never cared whether his exploits spread through the village or keep.
But he did now. Other than him speaking so highly of this woman, no stories passed through kith and kin about them. He did not boast to his friends, he did not include his friends in drunken reveries that resembled orgies of olden days and he allowed only Rurik’s son Dougal to visit the house he’d bought her with him.
Jocelyn headed towards the cottage of Gair’s sister now. Ciara was busy with her father at the keep, so Catriona could not be there this morn. From what Peggy had learned, the woman kept to herself most of the time, spending time with Ciara when she was available and helping her friend Muireall with her chores. Now reaching the path to Muireall’s cottage, she let Peggy knock on the door.
‘Good day, my lady,’ Muireall called out as she came outside, a wee babe on her hip. Jocelyn recognised the family resemblance between this woman and her brother, their steward.
‘Good day, Muireall,’ she said. ‘How does the wee one fare?’ The babe gifted her with a gummy smile and drool spilt down the boy’s chin. His mother wiped it without pause.
‘Teething early, my lady. The youngest of mine so far.’
‘Is Catriona MacKenzie about?’ Jocelyn asked.
‘Oh, nay, not now. She stopped by earlier, but has been gone for an hour or more.’ Muireall’s frown declared her friend worried. ‘Lady, she is a kind and gentle woman,’ she began to explain. ‘She—’
‘Muireall, have no worries over my enquiry.’ Jocelyn was struck by two things—Catriona’s friend’s loyalty and her fear. ‘Aidan spoke of her garden and I bring her some cuttings from mine.’
Muireall’s face lightened, but concern still filled her gaze. ‘Do you know where...?’ She shook her head. ‘I am certain you do, my lady.’
‘Aye, I know the house. Good day to you,’ Jocelyn said, walking on towards the edge of the village.
There was no doubt in her mind that everyone who saw her this day knew her path and knew whom she sought. News travelled quickly and Jocelyn also knew that her son would hear of her visit when he returned. But, it was time to assess for herself how far this relationship had gone and how dangerous it was.
She knew the house and its location for she’d visited it when some kin stayed there some years ago. Connor kept it empty for use when guests came to call and when discretion was necessary, for its location and position close to the forest gave it a measure of privacy that many village houses, cottages and crofts did not have.
Perfect for a man and his leman.
Peggy walked to the door and would have knocked if a loud and very bold epithet had not echoed from the walled yard next to the house. Guessing from the feminine tone that Catriona worked there, Jocelyn approached the wall and followed it around until she reached the gate which, convenient for privacy, was positioned facing the forest and not the lane. She found Catriona sitting in the middle of the garden in the dirt.
‘Good day, Mistress MacKenzie,’ she called out in greeting.
‘My lady.’ Catriona pushed to her feet, shaking the dirt from her gown as she quickly came to the gate. ‘Good day to you,’ she said, curtsying before her. ‘How may I serve you, my lady?’ she asked, as she rose and pushed open the gate.
‘Aidan spoke of your garden and your love of betony, so I brought you some cuttings from the garden at the keep.’ She held out her hand to Peggy and the girl handed her the basket she’d brought. ‘There are also some herbs and a few for flowers,’ she added. ‘Every garden needs some colour, I think.’
‘Your generosity is appreciated, Lady MacLerie.’ Catriona motioned to the door. ‘May I offer you some cool water inside? I fear I have little else other than some ale. Oh, or some whisky that Aid— Your son brought here for his use.’
Jocelyn followed the woman inside, sending Peggy back to the keep. She wanted a private discussion with Catriona and wanted no other ears nearby.
She did not know what she thought she would find inside, but the house was clean and neat with few decorations or personal belongings. A few cushioned chairs sat near the hearth, with some plaid blankets tossed over the backs, making an inviting scene. The cooking area was clean and the table clear. On a shelf near the cooking area sat a certain book, wrapped in oilcloth, most likely to keep it protected and to keep it covered.
‘I was surprised when he took this book for you.’
Jocelyn laughed then as she remembered not knowing how to ask her son if he realised the book he’d chosen was not a storybook. But how did a woman explain to her son, grown or not, that his father had brought it back to his mother as a special gift for the two of them to share? And shared it they had, many, many times. ‘I notice it has not been returned to me yet,’ she said.
From Catriona’s blush, it was clear her son and his leman had shared it as well.
‘How are your lessons coming?’ Jocelyn asked. As the woman’s blush deepened and she stammered, Jocelyn knew her words had been taken wrongly. ‘Your reading and writing lessons? From Ciara?’
she clarified.
‘Forgive me, my lady,’ she said. ‘I thought you meant...But then you could not have meant... Forgive me,’ she said. Catriona offered a seat in one of the chairs and then went to the pantry, still mumbling under her breath.
‘A cup of water, if you please, Catriona,’ she called out.
Soon they sat together in the silence.
‘The last time we spoke, it was a difficult time for you. How do you fare now?’ she asked.
‘I thank you for your help when Gowan died, my lady. He was a good man and he sav...’ Catriona paused then for a moment. ‘He was a good man.’
Had she started saying that Gowan had saved her? Jocelyn wondered about that, but let it go for now.
‘My son said you refused him while Gowan yet lived?’
‘Aye, my lady, I did. I held true to the vows I spoke with Gowan. No matter what the rumours,’ she said. Catriona shifted in her chair and drank from the cup.
‘Were you forced to this? Did he, did Aidan, pressure you to this?’ Jocelyn motioned her hand to the house. ‘I pray you, tell me true and do not try to protect him. I know my son and he can be...persuasive when it comes to women and filling his bed.’
If she was shocked by Jocelyn’s candour, the woman did not show it. Instead, she answered the personal and prying, her son would call them, questions in a calm, thoughtful manner, keeping her dignity as she was questioned about things a mother rarely spoke of to her son’s woman.
‘His guilt caused him to arrange this house. I ken he thinks that his pursuit of me robbed me of house and home, but I think that would have happened on Gowan’s death, no matter.’
Catriona had no idea of the true part in her husband’s death that Aidan had played. If she did...
‘But I gain so much from this arrangement, my lady. A house for my use as long as I need it. An education in letters and numbers that someone like me would never have had. And a short respite from grief and pain.’
‘A short respite? Is he leaving you?’ He had tired of women quickly, moving from one to another in a ceaseless process over these last several years. But surely not already?
Catriona stood then and walked to the open door. Staring out it, she shook her head and then met Jocelyn’s gaze.
‘Oh, nay, not yet,’ she said softly. Taking a breath and letting it out, she turned and faced her. ‘But I know you seek a wife for him and I know he must marry soon. And, lady, I know my place and it will not be at his side.’
Jocelyn stood and walked to her side now. Her heart hurt somehow at this woman’s sense of how things would work. There was no regret or shame in her voice, no disrespect in her tone. But there was also no hope, only a clear understanding of Aidan’s future and her own separate one.
‘Worry not, if that is what brought your visit here,’ Catriona said. ‘I will make no demands on him. There can be no bairns and I will not keep him from what he must do.’ She smiled then, a watery one, and she shrugged. ‘You see, I am taking advantage of all he offers me even while you think he takes too much from me. I will leave here with a skill and some coin to ease my way wherever I go.’
‘Does he know this? Does he know you will not stay?’ Jocelyn asked.
‘I have told him so, but you know men, my lady. He hears only what he chooses. But we women know how it must be,’ she finished.
What struck Jocelyn in that moment was that in different circumstances a woman like Catriona would have been the perfect wife for her son. And the sadness of that revelation brought tears to her own eyes. Blinking them away, she walked to the door. She took Catriona’s hand in hers.
‘If you have need of anything, you have but to call on me and I will do whatever I can to help you. Do you understand?’
‘I thank you for your generosity, my lady. But I will not have need to call on you. I know what I’m doing.’
Jocelyn looked into the face of the woman her son loved and who loved her son and nodded, knowing she would not argue the point. The offer had been made and Jocelyn would honour it.
‘Good day, Catriona. My thanks for your hospitality.’
She walked away quickly, the tears that had threatened pouring down her face now. Jocelyn waited until she turned the corner and Catriona would not see her before tugging a linen square from her sleeve and mopping her eyes and face. By the time she entered the gates, she had herself under control. She spied her husband standing in the place high on the walls of the keep in the spot he liked because he could see all the comings and goings.
Jocelyn must speak to him now. He must know what they were up against.
* * *
Connor watched as she walked with purpose towards the stairway that would bring her to him. This was a place where they could speak without being heard. This was a place where they could do other things without being seen as well.
The original castle builder had created this gap for his assignations with the lord’s wife at the time. That did not end well for either of them, but the sad story of their ending did not stop him from enjoying this place with his wife whenever he could coax her here. No matter that all knew what happened here when the guards were directed elsewhere. It was the Beast’s lair where no one would trespass.
Now, she reached the top of the stairs and motioned the guards away. He could not see her face yet, but her manner did not bode well for his hoped-for seduction this day.
‘Connor,’ she said.
‘Jocelyn,’ he replied. When the expected kiss did not happen, he took her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘Wife,’ he growled, possessing her mouth until she melted against him.
And still he did not cease tasting her, dipping deep and fast and hard into her mouth with his tongue, hoping to spur her on to take of him. Several minutes of very pleasing kissing happened before he gave up his efforts. Placing her back on her feet, he held on to her until she steadied. At least he knew she was affected by him.
‘Husband,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips in a stance he knew well. ‘We must discuss Aidan.’
‘You went to speak to his leman.’
He did not ask, for he knew she had. His mate did not leave his presence without him knowing where she was. He would never cease protecting her whether she knew it or not. Connor owed her his very soul and so she would always be under his protection and observation.
‘Certainly I did,’ she snapped back at him. ‘We have a problem.’
Though love had come to him in the most unexpected way—in a marriage brought about by threats and blackmail—it did not mean he could not see it. Aidan was maturing from a callous, randy young man into a young man worthy to be his heir. And much of it had been brought about by his attraction to Catriona MacKenzie. His actions had caused harm and he’d done the right thing in trying to sort through the consequences of it.
And he’d fallen in love in the process.
Even Connor could see it.
‘What problem is that, Jocelyn?’ he asked the woman who held his heart in hers.
Their love had developed after their marriage—in spite of it, he sometimes thought—and had grown deeper as they faced the adversities and challenges of life. He did not doubt that his son could do the same thing, once he married the right woman.
‘What do you know about this woman? Surely your spies have reported to you about her marriage with Gowan? And before that? I know you are careful about your son.’
‘Spies, Jocelyn?’
He preferred to call them by other names, but as long as they provided him with what he needed, he cared not the name. And provide they did. Whether important information or small bits he tucked away for future need, his sources kept him well informed about everything and everyone who lived under his control—and those who might affect him or his interests.
So far, they’d said nothing alarming about the woman his son had chosen as his leman...and more.
‘She said something about Gowan saving her. I was curious and thought you would know by
now. And, aye, spies, Husband. You have your creatures everywhere.’
‘And the matter you think is a problem?’ he prodded her. He tucked away that bit about Gowan and would have someone look into it further, for it might prove valuable.
‘They are in love.’
He let out a frustrated breath. ‘I know. It has no significance to our plans. You know that. He will marry an appropriate bride and they will find happiness. Hopefully, as we did.’
‘Connor! How can you say that?’
‘You spoke to Catriona. How did you find her to be?’ he asked, knowing the answer already, for he’d observed the woman his son had taken under his protection.
‘She is circumspect and loyal and does not overstep like that last one,’ she said, shivering at the memories of the histrionics of Aidan’s last lover, one he’d kept, thankfully, for a very brief time.
‘Then she understands that she cannot stand in the way of our plans for his marriage?’
‘Aye, she understands, but—’ she began to argue.
‘She understands, Jocelyn. Let it go.’
The fire in her eyes that he wanted to see was, instead, replaced by anger that said he was not going to get the chance to seduce his wife after all. She screamed out her anger then, stamped her foot and walked away from him, cursing and muttering under her breath as she went down the stairs and through the yard to the keep.
Those who witnessed the exchange turned back to their tasks when the door slammed behind her. She was soft-hearted and, no matter how much she claimed to understand the necessities of life as it involved her son, Jocelyn would never give up hope now.
Connor walked back along the battlements, watching as his men trained below.
He would do what was necessary to see his son, his heir, settled with the right bride, one who brought an equal measure of wealth or power or lands to the marriage. It was Connor’s duty and would be Aidan’s when he had a son.
If Catriona wanted to remain as his leman, so be it. Most men of his position married as required and kept a leman for love as well. Connor would not demand that Aidan give her up, just keep her in the right place in his marriage.
Terri Brisbin Highlander Bundle Page 78