by Alisa Adams
Despite this, it was heavily fortified and inhabited not just by the Sutherlands, but by any outlaw who proved his worth to them, so the large compound, made up of four different houses, could hold about forty men if need be, and enough sheep, goats, and pigs to feed them all. If they needed more, they simply went on a raid and took what they wanted, and because they never struck in the same place twice in a row, it was impossible to guess their next target.
Everyone knew there had to be a secret entrance to the stronghold, but no matter how anyone searched – and there had been many searches – the entrance had never been discovered, so an ambush by stealth was impossible.
The garrisons of all the lairds had tried to attack the fortress, but Hector Sutherland had been alerted by a spy beforehand. No one knew their identity. He had kidnapped a farmer and his family and held them hostage, threatening them with death unless the soldiers backed away. They did, but the father of the family was murdered anyway, and his head thrown down to the army below. That had earned Hector Sutherland and his three oldest sons a death sentence, but until they could be wrenched from their stronghold, they were as safe as they could be. Even a siege was impossible as long as the entrance to the place was unknown.
So the Sutherlands ruled, and that was the fact of life which had been all but accepted in the region. Short of posting a guard on every farm in the valley, which would have required more manpower than they had, it was impossible to do anything to stop them, so they continued to terrorize the community whenever it suited them, which was often.
Many of the farmers were now laying aside a portion of their harvests and livestock as tribute, to pacify them and safeguard their families from harm, but it did not always work. The Sutherlands were power-hungry and bloodthirsty. Not only was violence a means to an end, but an end in itself. They enjoyed it.
* * *
Mairi Sutherland had never been seen in daylight by any outside eyes. She emerged only at night and even then was swathed in dark clothing that completely covered her face.
She emerged from the secret entrance in darkness and did not light her lamp till she was a hundred yards away from it – since she knew the path like the back of her hand. She had no desire to waylay or rob anyone. She simply needed a breath of fresh air outside the compound to enjoy the wide-open space, the sigh of the wind and the pleasure of her own company. Sometimes if it was dry, she went to sleep and woke up just before dawn with dew on her face and a feeling of dread in her heart that she had to go home.
Like all the others, Mairi was terrified of her father, even though she knew that she was his favorite. That could always change, though, because he was a changeable, temperamental man, likely to explode at a moment's notice. How she hated him!
One day when her father was sleeping off a particularly bad hangover, Mairi found her mother sitting by the kitchen garden, weeping silently.
Donella knew that Mairi treasured her place as her father's favorite, not so much for herself, but for the tiny bit of protection she could give the others. She did this by distracting his attention from everyone else, and only her mother knew the emotional cost of this.
Now she sat down by her mother's side and looked into her prematurely lined face. She took her worn hand and kissed it, then Donella leaned her head on her daughter's shoulder. They sat silently for a moment.
"I hate him," Mairi hissed out. "I hate him wi' everything that's in me, Mammy. My soul is black wi' it."
"I do too." Donella nodded in agreement.
"An' I am goin' tae dae somethin' aboot it," Mairi said grimly. "I am goin' tae kill him, Mammy."
"But ye cannae dae that!" Donella protested.
"An' why not?" Mairi demanded. "He beat Rose this mornin', an' she is only five years old, Ma! Is one o' us gaunnae hae tae die afore he stops?"
"He is the only one puttin' food on the table," Donella pointed out.
"Aye – stolen food! He takes the bread oot o' the mouths o' other wee bairns tae feed his ain. Then he beats them half tae death for nothin'."
Mairi sat, breathing heavily, then added, "I will find a way tae make money, Mammy! An' then I will take yon horsewhip in the stable, tie him tae a tree, an’ whip him tae death – an' I dinnae care if I die an' all!"
She paused, and when she spoke again, it was as if the words were coming from the throat of a demon.
"Mammy, when I lash him, I want tae look straight intae his eyes, an' when I give him the last stroke o' that whip, I will pray tae God tae pit him where he belangs – in the deepest, darkest dungeons o' hell wi' the murderers an’ rapers o' women an' wee ones. An' I swear by the blessed virgin that the last hand that touches him will be mine an' the last face he sees will be mine – an' I will be smilin'."
3
Alexa's Suitor
Graham could not stop thinking about Alexa's blue eyes. They were the last thing he thought about at night and the first thing in the morning. He tried to think of excuses to go to the castle and see the laird, but she was never there, and there were only so many things he could find to talk about, particularly since Laird Drummond was a taciturn man, not inclined to talk about anything except business and the weather.
But one day it seemed that Laird Drummond had come to the end of his tether.
He looked grimly at Graham under his lowering brows and said, "Mr. Hamilton, you have come to see me five times in the last two months. Each time about a trivial matter which you could have taken care of yourself. Please tell me now – what is the real reason for your coming here? I have more to worry about than the problems of a young man who obviously has too much time on his hands."
Graham felt himself flush. He sat very straight in his chair and looked Iain Drummond straight in the eye.
"I would like to ask your permission to court Alexa, sir," he said gravely.
Iain cast his eyes heavenward. "Is that all?" He threw up his hands in exasperation. "Why the hell did you not say so in the first place, you stupid man?"
He sat for a moment looking at Graham incredulously.
"Why are you asking me? Ask her!"
This is not going at all well, Graham thought.
"Where is she?" he asked, sounding somewhat desperate.
"Probably shooting that crossbow of hers," Iain replied with a touch of harshness. "Go and look for her in the field behind the west wall. She usually sets up targets there. But be careful you don't get in her way. She is a crack shot."
I know all too well! Graham thought, smiling.
* * *
On his way downstairs he met Moira, who gave him a pleasant smile.
"Estate business, sir?" she asked.
"No, I have come to see Alexa," he replied, then went on in a rush: "You might as well know, mistress, that I intend to ask Alexa to allow me to court her."
Moira clapped her hands and laughed. "She will be thrilled! She has loved you for the last twelve years!"
"Since she was six?" Graham asked with disbelief.
"Probably before. And I am thrilled too. I only hope she says yes. She is a girl who does not give her heart easily, and she has grown up a lot in those years. What a six-year-old girl feels and what an eighteen-year-old girl feels are very different things!"
Graham smiled grimly. "There is only one way to find out," he replied, clattering downstairs.
"Good luck!" Moira called, hugging herself.
* * *
Graham's heart was beating a wild tattoo as he walked around the field to get to the practice range, but as soon as he saw Alexa, he knew that everything was going to be fine. He walked up to her and admired the bolts she had just shot into the tree, so close together that they looked like one.
"You are a good shot," he observed, "but is this a fitting pastime for a lady?"
"Why should it not be?" She fitted another bolt to the crossbow. "And why should I care? I may have to defend myself someday."
He shrugged, smiling at her but saying nothing.
"Would you lik
e me to reacquaint you with my dagger?" she asked mischievously.
"No, I think your dagger and I dislike each other," Graham replied, laughing, then the smile faded from his face. "May I call you Alexa?"
"You may."
"May I acquaint you with my lips?" he asked, his voice husky as he looked down into the blue eyes that had tormented him so often in the last few days.
"You mean – kiss me?" For once, Alexa was uncertain and took an involuntary step back, her eyes wide.
He nodded.
"I-I have never kissed anyone before – not a man, anyway," she confessed.
"There is nothing to be afraid of," he said softly, reaching out a hand to touch the tumbling curls that framed her face.
He put one hand on her waist and bent his head to touch his mouth to hers very gently.
A shiver went through her and a tingling sensation that left her feeling a little weak.
When his lips left hers, he looked down at her, smiling slightly.
"Another?"
He was exercising the utmost restraint. What he really wanted to do was pull her against him and kiss her with all the passion he had in him.
"Did you like it?"
"I did." Her voice was low and trembling. "Please do it again."
Exactly what I wanted to hear, he thought.
"Close your eyes, Alexa."
She did so trustingly, and he tilted her head up, then kissed her softly again.
"Open your mouth just a little," he instructed, ignoring the urge to ravage her lips with his.
She did so, and he pressed his mouth against hers a little harder, then pushed the tip of his tongue between her lips. She opened her mouth wider still, but he did nothing more, not wanting to frighten her.
When Alexa felt the pressure on her lips harden, she wanted to jump back in alarm, but his mouth moving against hers felt so good. She inhaled deeply, smelling the mixture of exotic perfumed oils that he rubbed onto his skin and another indefinable smell that was just him. Without thinking she moved closer to him so that their bodies were pressed together, and she felt his arms wrap around her protectively.
She touched her tongue against his and heard him give a long moan, then she was in a world where nothing else existed but the two of them, tongues entwined, lips caressing each other’s.
Eventually, they broke away from each other, and Alexa was amazed to find that she was breathless and trembling.
Graham was looking down at her with half-closed eyes, his lips curling upward in a satisfied smile.
"You won the contest with the dagger, my Lady," he murmured. "But I won the contest of the lips, did I not?"
"You will not the next time!" she said with defiance. "I will not allow it!"
Graham straightened up to his full height.
"We'll see about that." He pretended to be stern.
She pulled out the dagger, smiling. "You may be bigger and stronger, but I will always be cleverer!"
He sighed and held his hands up. "I am bested."
Then he looked at her so that he could ask her what he had wanted to from the beginning.
"Alexa." He took her hands in his. "I have asked Laird Drummond and your sister, and they have both given me their blessing. May I court you with the intention of getting to know you better?"
She was incredulous. Amazingly, the love she had borne him as a child had not changed, even though she had grown up. It had merely grown up with her.
"Yes," she replied, blushing. "Yes, you may."
His smile lit up his face.
"And now, my Lady Alexa, may I seal our bargain with a kiss?" he asked with mischief.
Alexa did not answer, but leaped into his arms and pulled his face down to hers. Only this time it was the kiss that Graham had wanted in the beginning – hard, passionate and hungry. He had the feeling that he had just lit a fire, which he had. Alexa had experienced her first introduction to womanhood.
* * *
They walked back into the castle again, and Alexa told him of her childhood beliefs about girls and boys.
"I used to think," she said, laughing, "that if I put on a dress, I would be a girl, and if I put on hose or a kilt, I would be a boy."
Graham looked in alarm at her decidedly masculine attire.
"I am so glad that is not true, lass!" He laughed. "But do you not have any pretty dresses to wear?"
"Yes, but they are all so thick and floppy and clumsy. I would rather be a boy outside and a girl inside."
Graham laughed again. "I will settle for that."
* * *
As he rode back to his own estate, Graham was ecstatic. He envisioned days spent with Alexa riding in the countryside, hunting, and cold winter evenings sitting by the fire enjoying warm spiced ale.
They could go to church together, read together or simply talk. The thought of kissing her again made his manly impulses rage. He let out a sigh of frustration that she was not right in front of him on the horse with his arms around her, keeping her in the saddle.
He could not sleep that night.
* * *
Alexa leaped up the stairs two at a time and burst into her bedroom, where Nanny Joan, who had been sitting sewing, jumped out of her chair in fright.
"My Lord, mistress! Ye scared me half tae death!"
"Nanny!" Alexa exclaimed with joy. "Uncle Iain has given permission for Graham to court me! Is it not wonderful?"
Nanny, looking at Alexa's dear face, smiled at her fondly.
"Indeed, it is, mistress. For he is a fine young man. And what does milady say?"
"I have not seen my sister yet," Alexa replied, "but I know she will be happy for me. She likes Graham."
* * *
"That sister of yours," Iain Drummond said, as he and Moira were lying in bed that night, "could stir up so much trouble."
Moira frowned. "Why do you say that? What trouble?"
"I did not mean actual harm, but she seems to stir men's hearts. Young Hamilton was here today. He has been here five times in the last two months asking stupid questions. I finally got out of him what he wanted to ask me in the first place."
"If he could see Alexa?" she asked, smiling.
She was cuddling up to him, sharing his warmth in the chilly night hours. It was always cold in the Highlands!
"How did you know?" he asked, frowning, but stroking her hair.
"I have the Sight." Moira laughed. "I met Graham on the stairs, and he told me where he was going. Alexa has said yes, of course. She has been in love with him since before she could write her name!"
Iain laughed.
"And I fell in love with you the first time I saw you," he said with tenderness. "You may have thought that I married you out of pity or necessity or loneliness – and I did marry you for all those reasons – but mostly it was because I was lost the first time I looked into your eyes."
She lay very still for a moment.
"What are you thinking?" Iain asked.
"Why have you never told me this before?" She stroked his rough cheek and heard him sigh.
"I can't talk about my feelings very easily," he murmured. "I don't think I realized how much I loved you till a few months after we married. I suddenly saw the light one day, and I realized that the strange feeling I had when I first saw you was not mere pity, but love. And – and then I was too embarrassed to say it. Tonight, I could – I don't know why."
"Oh, Iain, I love you too," Moira whispered. "Moments like this lying here with your body so close to mine – this is heaven. Maybe now that we have acknowledged our love for each other, God will see fit to bless us with a child."
"That is my most fervent hope," he whispered. "Now, my darling, let us make it happen."
Then there was no more talking as they lost themselves in each other.
Moira welcomed him into her arms and was astonished and delighted at the passion that Iain was showing. It was something he had never shared with her before.
He had always been tender
with her but had never brought her to a climax, although their lovemaking had always been very enjoyable. It was something she had always wanted but had been too shy to ask for, despite the length of their marriage.
But this was a different Iain. He caressed her breasts, nuzzled her nipples and throat, then touched her in all her secret, intimate places. He showered her with kisses and nibbled her all over her body till she was aching with delight.
She lifted her body up to meet his, and he slid his hands under her buttocks to pull her even closer. She felt his manhood pressed against her stomach, and a moment later, they had joined together, moving in a rhythm as old as time.
He murmured her name over and over again.
“Moira, Moira, Moira.” His voice was husky with passion. “My love, my precious one.”
“I love you, Iain,” she whispered back, “so much.” Then her eyes widened. “Please – please—”
She gasped as something began to happen that had never happened before.
“Please what?” Iain growled, smiling wickedly.
“I – don’t know…” She trailed off as a strange, delightful wave of sensation started to build inside her.
It became stronger and stronger, faster and faster, but she knew she had to reach further and get to the crest. And she did. She screamed as it hit her, and a crescendo of pure pleasure washed over her, making her shudder and tremble uncontrollably for a moment before it subsided and left her in a state of utter peace and contentment.
Iain, having reached his own fulfillment, looked at her face and its expression of amazement.
“Are you alright, my darling?” he murmured, smiling.
“My God, yes!” She gasped. “Iain, when can we do that again?”
Iain was speechless.
That night they conceived the baby they had both longed for.