by Evie North
Wine was poured, and she sipped, trying not to make her trembling hand obvious.
“So you cannot stay, my lady?” His voice brought her head around and she found him watching her through narrowed eyes. “Not even for another day?”
Did he see the emotion in her face, the disappointment in her smile? She hoped not. She worked hard to make her expression a total blank.
“There is still tonight,” he reminded her. “And you and I have business to finish. Do we not, Elspit?”
Her chin dropped. Did he mean what she thought he did? “My lord—”
“My name is Ewen, as you know only too well.”
“That was long ago.”
“Ten years is not so long.”
It was for me!
She said nothing, what could she say? Those blue eyes bored into hers and she remembered them smiling at her, or heated with desire and warm with love. Now she could see nothing in them, his feelings were closed off to her behind a wall.
“Your father?” she asked him breathlessly, seeking to find safer ground. “And your brothers? Are they well? Are they here too?”
“Not yet. They will arrive tomorrow.”
So it was true. He was going to marry the Stewart woman. She said nothing, looking down into her wine. If he thought her a steely bitch then that was what she would be, because if he knew the heartache she had endured these past ten years ... if he knew how she felt now, how much her heart ached, then she wasn’t sure she would be able to survive the humiliation.
“Tell me again where you would go if I gave you permission to leave?” he spoke abruptly, his voice deeper and rougher than it used to be. He was definitely a man now.
Elspit clasped her hands in her lap, staring out at the great hall and the people in it. They were talking in low voices, interspersed with laughter, but mostly they were staring up at the dais where Ewen and his captive sat. Because she was his captive, she knew it now. And it seemed that they were this evening’s entertainment too.
“I have a friend to the north who will offer me sanctuary.” Honora Cameron was a distant relative of her mother, and over the years they had written to each other and on one memorable occasion, Honora had visited Tighe. Elspit knew she would be safe with her friend and the Cameron family. There had been talk of her marrying Honora’s brother but that was nothing but her father’s wishful thinking—Lord Cameron was in love with another.
Ewen said nothing for a moment and then, “Eat,” he growled. “I would not want you to faint. You need to keep up your strength for tonight.”
She glanced at him quickly, before she could stop herself, her eyes wide. “What do you mean?” she whispered.
He smiled, the corners of his lips tipping up. He was still a handsome man, but his experience and maturity had given him an extra rugged quality that drew all the female eyes in the hall. Suddenly she found herself wondering about his future wife. Was she beautiful? She must be. The thought of his impending marriage stung her deep and she clenched her jaw to stop from crying out.
“I mean that I am the ruler of Castle Tighe, lady,” he explained, and leaned in closer as if he was sharing secrets with her. “Remember how your father chained me in the dungeon? Well I have not forgotten. I wanted to save you then, I would have given my life for you, but you would not let me. Now here we are, and there is unfinished business between us.”
She stared back at him. “Unfinished business?” she breathed. The way he spoke the words made her think he was threatening her, and yet the quickening of her heart was not because she was afraid. It was the way he was looking at her. As if he craved her. The heat in his gaze singed her skin. She was feeling that almost forgotten ache in her breasts and between her thighs, so that she shifted on her chair, unable to help herself. She wasn’t remembering the Ewen of ten years ago. She was thinking of this Ewen, the man, the warrior, with his mouth and hands on her, turning her mindless with desire. So many nights she had reached between her thighs to pleasure herself, pretending he was with her still, and now at last he was here.
“Ah I see you have remembered.” Suddenly he was so close, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned in so that only she could hear what he had to say. She wondered what the watchers in the great hall must think, seeing them so intimate.
“You confuse me, my lord,” she said in a hard little voice.
“Do I? Then let me be plain. You are something that I have always thought of as mine, Elspit, and tonight I am going to take you.”
Goosebumps rose on her arms and she swallowed. If she thought her breasts were aching before, now they were heavy and desperate for his hands, the nipples hard points beneath her gown.
“I am no longer yours to take,” again she found her voice.
He smiled and suddenly she saw Ewen, her Ewen, in his stranger’s face. Wicked and teasing, lust in the curl of his mouth, his bottom lip still plump, making her long to suck on it.
“I think you’ll find you were always mine to take,” he said, closing in again.
She felt his tongue, warm and wet, against the skin near her ear, and jumped. “Please,” she breathed.
“I fully intend to please you,” he growled.
Elspit found her mouth go dry. If she had thought the Ewen of the past was gone then she knew now she was wrong. He was here, and he wanted her. He might be marrying another woman tomorrow but she could not deny the heat in his eyes, or the clenching need in her belly.
This was wrong, so wrong, but it felt so right. She had waited for him and now he was offering to make her wait worthwhile. All those nights she had pleasured herself with her fingers, dreaming of him, and he was here. She couldn’t believe she was asking herself these questions, but … what if she said yes? If she agreed to this?
It occurred to her then that her agreement might make him think she loved him still, and she knew she couldn’t bear that. She was holding on to her pride by her fingernails, it was all she had left. She must make him believe that she would agree to spend the night in his bed only if he would agree to let her go.
“Will you give me a leave pass for tomorrow?” she asked him, her voice not sounding like her own. “If I say yes?”
He stared at her for a long moment while she waited, frozen, hardly daring to breath. When had her sweet Ewen learned to make his expression so unreadable. “Tomorrow I will sign the papers,” he said, and taking her hand kissed her fingertips.
Her breath stuttered and her fingers trembled. Her eyelids flickered and threatened to close but she held herself firm. Not yet, not yet ...
“Then I will say yes.”
His blue eyes flared with triumphant desire, and she thought he would rise immediately and carry her away, but just then one of his men approached the table and was bowing before him. “My lord.”
Elspit didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. With Ewen’s attention elsewhere, she was able to relax a little. The tips of her breasts felt uncomfortable against the wool of her gown, and she tried to be calm, telling herself that she must not let him see how he made her feel. That she was still attracted to him, that she still loved him. Being held captive in her own castle by a man who was about to wed another was bad enough, but for him to know how she felt would make things far worse.
One night with him. One night in her bed with his body lavishing hers unselfishly in the way he used to. That had been love, despite the restriction he had placed upon them, or perhaps because of it. But this time, if she could believe what he said, then he would complete the act. He would finally make her his.
Ewen’s chair grated back on the floor as he stood up. “I have a matter to attend to,” he said, looking down at her from what seemed a great height. The fire in his eyes had necessarily been contained but she was not fooled. It still smouldered, and his nostrils flared as if he could smell her arousal. Suddenly he was close again, leaning down so that his breath stirred the curls of her dark hair. “Go to your bedchamber and wait for me there,”
he murmured.
She wanted to agree more than anything, but her pride demanded she pretend reluctance. “And if I do not?” she asked him softly.
“Then I will lock you in the dungeon,” he said.
Shocked, her mouth fell open, but he was already striding away down the great hall.
Chapter 4
EWEN
Ewen followed his man from the great hall, his head full of the girl he had been dreaming of for ten years. Elspit had grown into an even more beautiful woman, and although outwardly she was cool and detached, he did not believe for a moment that the girl he had loved was not still there inside her. Behind her wary eyes she had been unable to disguise her lust for him, try though she might.
He had felt enormous satisfaction in seeing Elspit walking toward him in the great hall. Mine! A voice in his head had roared. At last! And then instead of smiling with love and relief, instead of clasping her arms about him, she had asked him for permission to go north to another man.
It wasn’t going to happen.
That proud and beautiful face, the way she held herself, as if she was afraid she might break. He’d felt a fresh wave of fury wash through him. He had been dreaming of her throwing herself into his arms but he knew now she would not allow him to see her vulnerability. The years apart had not been congenial for either of them, but although Ewen had spent them working toward a happy ending, Elspit had been wed to a man she did not love and forced to live in Castle Tighe and witness her father’s increasing appetite for viciousness.
He should feel sympathy for her but instead he was angry. Full of rage. Rage at himself and her father and the circumstances that meant he could not be the champion for her that he had longed to be.
And then he had made his demand and, as he leaned in close to her, smelling her skin, tasting it, her breath had hitched. He’d caught the scent of her, and his hands ached to touch her. His mouth wanted to trace her every curve, and his cock grew hard and heavy with the need to push deep inside her. He had come to claim her and she knew it now, just as he knew with deep satisfaction that whatever changes had occurred in their years apart, she wanted him too.
She wanted him too.
But she also wanted to set off for another man immediately afterwards.
Shards of pain pierced his chest, dug into his heart until the blood ran freely. Was his long wait, was his sacrifice, all for nothing?
“Here, my lord.”
The voice interrupted his unhappy thoughts and he forced himself back to the present. His man had brought him to the castle wall and now they both surveyed their grim discovery. Heads upon pikes. They were a grisly sight, the faces unrecognisable, but he had heard of neighbours being kidnapped and lands stolen. Elspit’s father had much to be sorry for, and Ewen would see that he was.
“We will look over the barracks while I am here,” he said. “And the armoury. I want to be ready if there is any retaliation from Tighe’s friends.”
The man smirked. “I doubt he has any friends left,” he said. “There will be rejoicing, my lord, now you are here.”
Ewen grunted. It would be pleasant if his arrival was greeted with genuine relief and celebration, but he was used to the clan ways. Allegiances went deep, and even those who might hate Tighe would still feel the need to avenge him simply because it was ingrained in their blood and bone.
All the same he was confident of eventually winning most of them over. He might have to break a few heads and make a few threats, but in time they would come around to accepting his rule. Ewen considered his situation as he descended the stone stairs. He had grown into a good and fair leader during his service with the duke. His own men were loyal; they trusted him and would follow wherever he led. Once he was married he could claim the right to be master of Castle Tighe and not many would deny him.
For ten years he had dealt with his sense of failure when he left Elspit behind. For ten years he had waited for his chance to return and make good on his promise, rescue her like the hero he wanted to be, and claim her heart and body. And now she wanted to leave him.
Well, he was going to remind her of what they had meant to each other. He was going to show her that their passion hadn’t faded, and in fact had only grown stronger—on his part anyway. Maybe he was arrogant but he believed he could reach her through his mouth and his hands, and rediscover what they had lost. He could change her mind about leaving him for some northern lord.
Finished his inspection, Ewen made his way back to the great hall. It was still noisy with celebration and merriment—he had promised his men one night of carousing before they must return to duty. Ewen even thought about joining them in an ale or two, but only for a moment.
Elspit will be waiting.
His body tightened, his heart began a slow, heavy beat. These were sensations he had not felt in a very long time. During the ten years apart there had been many willing women and he had found what pleasure he could with them, but this was different. Finally he was going to bed the one woman he had craved since he was a boy.
And yet he had doubts. Although Ewen was always kind to the women who came to him for his pleasure, he had seen many other men who were brutal in their treatment of those they considered less important than themselves. His father, Hamish Campbell, had brought Ewen and his brothers to manhood with the staunch belief that they must treat women with honour.
Now he wondered as he had a thousand times before … Had Elspit been forced when she wed her husband? The visions of her being dragged to the altar had plagued him night after night when he left, until he shut them out as a matter of survival. If he hadn’t he would have ridden back to Tighe and got himself killed. There had been one memorable night when he was mounted and ready to go before his father and brothers dragged him from the saddle. They had spent the remainder of the dark hours talking sense into him, with the help of a bottle of whiskey.
Your time will come, they had told him over and over again until he was forced to believe it. And now, finally, that time was here. But was the Elspit waiting for him in her room the same Elspit as he had left behind?
Chapter 5
ELSPIT
She felt as if her body was on fire. For ten years she had not had a man touch her like that, whisper in her ear, making her clench her thighs, the flesh between them swollen and wet. She had always been this way with him, but all she had had of late were her nightly imaginings, and they hadn’t brought her to the level of excitement she was feeling now.
He was going to make her his, just as he’d always said he would.
Pleading weariness, she had sent her ladies to bed, ignoring the suspicious glance Rosina had given her. But as she waited and time slipped by, her thoughts began to twist and turn, overpowering her desire, filling her with doubts. Was it such a good idea to give Ewen this one night before she left for the north? Would it really bring her relief or would a taste of him only make her hungrier and lonelier than ever?
He was marrying another woman, and they would live here at Castle Tighe, while she would be far away.
Elspit sat down on her four poster bed and stared at the door. Perhaps she should lock it? Why wasn’t he here?
He might already have found another woman for the night.
The words dragged sharp claws across her heart. Jealousy or fury, or both. No matter how she pretended otherwise, Elspit knew with despair that she still loved him. The strength of her love had not changed and if tonight was all she could ever have with him then she was willing to pay the price.
With a sigh, Elspit rose and went to the window. She opened the shutters a crack, peering down from her tower room into the walled garden she had designed. Her father had sneered that her efforts to create something pretty was a waste of time, but she had enjoyed the process, and now she enjoyed walking among the flower beds, tending to the plants, dreaming away her days.
What else was she to do? Her advice was not wanted, and apart from being present when her father demanded it, she was most
ly left alone. She knew he was a bad man, and she did her best to help their people, sending out food to those who needed it, handing coins to others. Now such kindness would be the prerogative of Ewen’s wife. For the sake of her people, Elspit hoped the Stewart woman was generous. She had heard that powerful people were often thoughtless.
The door opened behind her open.
Her heart jumped and her breath caught, as she turned to face the room.
Ewen stood there, big and dominant and silent. Watching her. His face was as expressionless as before, nothing to show her what he was really feeling, but his gaze slid down over her body as it had in the hall. Taking his time. She felt the brush of his regard on her breasts and before she could help herself she reached to cover them.
Now his eyes blazed and for a moment she thought he would lose all control and cross to her, catch her up in his arms and throw her onto the bed. Instead he clenched his fists and remained before the closed door.
“You are not in bed, lady,” he said as if something in his throat was restricted.
“I didn’t know I was supposed to be,” she retorted, her pulse thudding and her legs almost too weak to hold her up.
“And yet you are here, awaiting me,” he reminded her.
He was reading her, seeing her desire, and she could no longer hide it. Still watching her, slowly, as if seeking her permission, Ewen reached up and began to unbutton his jacket, and all the while those hot, lustful eyes were on her.
“Should I drop to my knees before you? Is that what the other women do?” she jeered, but her voice was breathless.
“You are not other women,” he told her curtly.
She knew then that this was going to happen. He was going to join her in her bed and he was going to take her body with his. For a moment her head swam, a pulse beating in her throat, her skin prickling. Her nipples were hard and before she could stop herself her hands slid over them, pinching the taut buds with her fingers.