On Highland Time

by Lexi Post

  He rolled his eyes. “Aye.”

  She enjoyed playing the silly female. Turning, she broke the bread in half and gave it to Braigh. “If you want ale to go with that, I can stay here until you get back.”

  He bit into the bread, savoring the taste, then he looked at her and the stairs.

  “Oh, don’t worry. The laird is training the men, as usual.”

  He swallowed before nodding. “Aye. I will grab a tankard. Do not leave while I’m gone.”

  “I won’t.” She watched as he took the steps two at a time before turning to the hole.

  She tried to peer into the blackness through the grates in the floor, but she couldn’t see anything. “Graham?”

  “Aye. Who is that?”

  “Diana. Would you like some bread, too?”

  “Aye lass. It would be most appreciated.”

  Of course it would. “Could you tell me something first?”

  The silence was telling. The man had probably not revealed anything to Torr. “Graham?”

  “It depends on what ye want to know.”

  She sat on the floor next to the hole and let the scent of the fresh baked bread waft down into the pit. “I want to know who you think will be the king of Scotland ten years hence?”

  “Silly woman. It will be King Edward, of course.”

  “And do you think laird Torr will be alive then?”

  “I am no soothsayer, lass. I don’t know what will happen to him, but if he continues his current activities, it will not be the arrow that gets him. Now, can I have the bread?”

  Not exactly the answer she had hoped for. What did it matter whether Torr died by an arrow or by a sword? “Why did you betray the laird?”

  For a man with so small a voice, his sigh filled the room. “Because it was my duty.”

  “But who—” The sound of footsteps on the stairs interrupted her. Quickly, she tore a piece of bread off and dropped the rest through the grate.

  “Thank ye, lass.”

  Braigh appeared and frowned at her. “What are ye doing next to the hole? I told ye to stay away from there.”

  She scrambled back as if it was on fire and took a small bite of the bread she still held in her hand. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to see what it looked like down there.”

  Braigh relaxed and offered his hand to help her up. “It is best that ye not. There are rats and other vermin in there, and he has not eaten in two days.”

  She widened her eyes. “Oh.”

  He nodded. “Thank ye for the bread, but ye best go above now. This is my duty, not yers.”

  “Yes, I better get back to the bakery before Nessa misses me.” She started toward the stairs.

  “Diana.”

  With one foot on the first stair, she froze. Did he realize she’d given Graham bread? Her heart pounded inside her chest as she looked over her shoulder.

  “Thank ye for befriending me wife. It has been difficult for her, coming to a new clan.”

  She relaxed at his words. “She is a lovely woman. You are very lucky.”

  “Aye. I know.” He smiled, something she’d never seen this particular man do. Her chest hurt at the love in his eyes for his wife. It was so much, she wanted to cry, and her vision blurred. Turning, she raced up the stairs. She was too close to these people already, feeling too much for them. She stepped onto the main floor and directly into a broad chest.

  “Whoa, lass. Where ye be going in such a hurry?” Hands grasped her shoulders.

  She looked up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Puck, it was Douglas.

  As he recognized her, his face turned cold and his gray eyes darkened to the color of a stormy sky. “Were ye pleasing the guard downstairs as well now?”

  She shook her head. “What? What do you mean?”

  “Thought ye were too full of grief to lie with anyone.”

  His anger radiated from him and it had a desperateness that cautioned her. She tried to pull back, but his fingers bit into her muscles. It was an easy hold to break, but her method would only anger him more. She held onto his arm, forcing herself to think of the mountains surrounding Gealach at midnight. Peaceful, calm thoughts.

  She lowered her eyes in mock deference. “I only brought bread for Braigh, nothing more.” She didn’t elaborate, letting him think what he would. It worked. He let her go.

  “Ach, I thought ye were different.” He turned and strode away, his disappointment rolling over her like a cold nor’easter.

  She shivered. She shouldn’t be causing these kinds of emotions in people or having such strong ones of her own. This was her job, not her life. With a need for familiarity and control, she strode to the bakery, careful to avoid anyone else.

  Nessa’s warm voice met her at the door. “There ye are. Where were ye?” Her friend turned her back and pulled another two loaves from the ovens.

  Shakespeare, she’d forgotten the bread she’d put in! “I brought Braigh some bread. He has to watch over the prisoner.”

  Nessa shook her head, her restless red hair brushing across her forehead. “I would not want that chore. I’d be so angry I would probably yell the spy to death.”

  She chuckled. Nessa’s upbeat personality helped her find her equilibrium again. “Maybe you could offer your services to the laird?”

  “Ach, I think not. Evan is the man for me.”

  “No, I mean your service of yelling at the prisoner. Maybe then he would talk.”

  Nessa grinned, her freckles meeting together as she scrunched her nose. “Aye, I just may do that.” She winked before moving to the shelf where the breads had finished their second rise. “Now, if I could use the same technique to get Evan to ask me to wed, I would be happy.”

  They laughed together, and her stress eased. She wanted to talk to Torr about Nessa’s situation, but she wasn’t about to go near him. She didn’t want him to ask her to stay the night because she wasn’t sure she had the willpower to turn him down and after he’d been with the widow, it would make even more of a mess of her emotions. Besides, she needed to stay out of the clan members’ problems and concentrate on her mission. Too bad her heart continually ignored that.

  “Diana, can ye help me with this?”

  She looked over to find Nessa balancing too many loaves of bread and quickly divested her of a few. She was too involved in too many clan issues. She had to stay focused and somehow ignore the laird.

  Yeah, right.

  Chapter Eight

  Torr sat at the high table and contemplated the woman who had held his thoughts all day but whom he had not seen until now. Diana had not been in the Great Hall when he took his midday meal, nor had he seen her about the yard. She avoided him. Not once had she looked at him this evening, either. Why? What did she hide? Did she prepare to betray him?

  Now, where did she go? He scanned the hall, but she had disappeared. He sat back and took a swig of ale as he watched both the archway to the kitchen and the two exits.

  The king elbowed him in the arm. “Who are ye looking for?”

  He grinned. “A lovely lass to enjoy the night with.”

  “Ye have a few to choose from.” Robert scanned the Great Hall before focusing again on their conversation.

  “Aye.” He glanced at the king. “What about ye?”

  Robert stroked his closely trimmed beard. “I miss my wife greatly, but I am not yet ready to give up my marriage vows. Though I have to say, there is one woman here that tempts me.”

  While he found Robert’s dedication to his wife admirable, he was happy not to have such an obligation. “Which lass tries to pull my king from his vows? I will banish her from the hall.” He winked at Robert.

  “No, I wouldn’t let ye do that. ’Tis not her fault she has a walk like no other. Besides, she’s not in the hall at the moment.”

  He stilled, a tightening sensation starting in the pit of his stomach. “What is her name?”

  The king shrugged. “I don’t know. She has pale blond hair and works
in the bakery. I’ve never seen such confidence in a woman before.”

  “Diana.” His word was spoken on a breath.

  “Is that her name? No need to banish the poor lass. My will is strong or I wouldn’t have come this far in my fight for Scotland.” Robert toasted his tankard to him before he tipped it for a swallow.

  He remained silent. He’d seen the king’s will waver on occasion, and an unfamiliar jealousy riled his innards, causing him to clench his fists.

  Robert found Diana comely. If he wanted her in his bed, Torr’s loyalty would demand he let her go there…but he couldn’t. He needed to find her, know where she was. She could be with any man she chose, and he couldn’t stop her. Actually, as laird he could, but it wouldn’t be right. No. She had to choose him.

  Standing, he mumbled an excuse to Robert and left the Great Hall. Was that why he needed her beneath him, to capture a woman of confidence? Maybe that was also what bothered Douglas. It could very well be that simple and not that she was a spy.

  He needed to discover what it was about her that made him want her as well as investigate her true motives for joining his clan. Striding across the yard, he headed for the wall-walk when a strange curse sounded from behind the blacksmith shed.

  He stilled and listened. Aye, there was clearly splashing taking place in the bath. The men had already used it and the women would use it after dinner. Could it be her? Silently, he made his way toward the building.

  “Holy Hamlet, what a mess.”

  He shook his head at the feminine voice around the corner. He’d found her, and she clearly had a problem with bathing. Perhaps he should assist her. He smiled. Aye, it was only right to aid her. Stepping around the corner, he stopped and stared.

  Diana was in the process of climbing out of the large tub, but she had bathed completely clothed and while one foot was on the ground showing a nicely curved calf, the other was still in the tub, along with the linen of her dress. She attempted to pick up the wet material from within the tub with her hands, giving him a perfect view of her rounded behind. As she gathered the material to her chest, she tried to straighten but slipped face first back into the water.

  He could not hold back his laughter. It had been so long since he’d laughed that he enjoyed the sensation along with the sight of Diana’s affronted countenance.

  She pushed the stray strands of hair from her eyes and glowered at him, which just made him laugh harder.

  “This is not funny.”

  He forced himself to hold back and finally meet her gaze with only a grin. “Do ye need help?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Obviously.”

  He strode forward and stopped at the edge of the bath. She reached both hands toward him, but he ignored them. Instead, he bent over the tub and lifted her, wet dress and all, and stepped back.

  She clasped her hands around his neck, holding tight.

  Now that he had her in his arms, complete with water puddling beneath her and soaking his own clothes, he was in no hurry to let her go. Her tangy fragrance was stronger. Glancing toward the board where soap was laid, he noticed a very small bar next to the usual one. So that was why she smelled minty. She’d made her own soap. “Why were ye in the bath fully clothed?” He tried to keep the laughter from his voice, but by her frown, he must not have been completely successful.

  “I was trying to wash my dress. It was soiled today, and since we are not washing until Monday and my other leine also needs to be cleaned, I didn’t want to offend anyone.”

  He smirked. He couldn’t avoid it. Her leine was plastered to her breasts and their full roundness made his mouth ache to taste her.

  “You can put me down now.”

  “Nay, I cannot. The bottom of yer dress would turn to mud by time you made it to the hall.”

  Her frown revealed her indecision over her predicament. “Then could you bring me to the hall?”

  “Nay, for then the rushes on the floor would cause any food scraps to cling to yer clothes.”

  Clearly frustrated now, she finally met his gaze. “Then what would you propose I do?” If she could have, he was certain her hands would have found her hips.

  He didn’t answer her, he simply kissed her nose and started walking.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  He ignored the panic in her voice and strode into the Great Hall. As he walked through, water from her heavy skirts splashed on his shins.

  Kerr called out to him as he made for the stairs. “About time, Torr.” The laughter that followed at the table caused Diana’s cheeks to redden, but it could be as much from anger as embarrassment with this woman.

  She hissed low. “Put me down.”

  “Nay.”

  She wriggled in his arms.

  “If ye continue squirming, we may both end up at the bottom of these stairs with broken necks. Ye may be light, but yer wet dress is not.”

  She stilled, but if her heavy breathing was any indication, when they made his room he would be the object of her anger, despite the fact she did this to herself. Hmm, something to remember to point out.

  When he reached the top of the stairs, he kicked open the door and closed it with his back. Only then did he allow her legs to drop, but he kept his arms around her, enjoying the moistness seeping through his own clothes.

  She dropped her arms from about his neck and pressed her hands against his chest. “Ye can let me go now.”

  Aye, he could, but he didn’t want to. Instead, he cupped her head with one hand and lowered his lips to hers. “Ow!”

  He dropped his arms and stared at her in surprise. “Ye bit me.” He licked his lip where her little teeth had drawn blood.

  She stepped back three paces and placed her hands on her hips. “I did not give you leave to kiss me and bring me to your room in front of the entire clan! How dare you take advantage of my predicament.”

  He leaned his back against the door and folded his arms. She didn’t yet realize the true state of her “predicament.”

  He didn’t say anything. He simply enjoyed the view of Diana’s dark red areolas as they showed through the thin wet material, her nipples pointed, straining against the saffron-colored linen. He grew hard beneath his soaked leine.

  “I have no interest in a man who slept with another woman just last night. You know that.”

  Ach, the true state of her upset revealed itself. “Nay, lass. I did not bed Helen last night. I could not as I kept thinking of ye.”

  She looked away. Her relief at his words proved she only resisted because he could not promise her she would be his only lover.

  Though that should have bothered him, instead he was pleased. It meant she didn’t dally with him as a distraction for subterfuge, but because she felt something for him. And if her rapid breathing had anything to do with how she felt toward him, he saw no further impediment to having her in his bed.

  “So now what?”

  He raised his gaze to meet hers, and from her sudden intake of breath, he guessed his interest was obvious. “Now ye strip off those wet clothes.”

  “I see no reason to—”

  “Now.” He unfolded his arms and stalked toward her, all interest in teasing gone. “Before ye take cold and become sick. Ye cannot be in wet clothes for long and ye know it.”

  Even as he said the words, she shivered, but was it from cold or his presence? It didn’t matter. He reached for her leine, fully intending to lift it off her.

  She stepped away and crossed her arms. “No.”

  He followed. “Aye.”

  Diana backed up until her hips hit his bed. She glanced behind her before whipping her gaze back to his. At her telltale swallow, his desire ignited.

  He cupped her face in his hands to kiss her, but hesitated. He wasn’t ready for another bite. Turning her face to the side, he nibbled her neck instead.

  Her hands braced against his chest, but there was no strength to them. She was his. The thought fanned the flame of his need, and he could resist
no longer. He let his lips travel down to the top of her leine and finally over it to nibble on the hard peak of her breast through the fabric.

  Her hands moved to his shoulders, tightening as she held on. He bent her backward to suckle the tight nipple into his mouth. Diana’s moan turned his blood hot, and his patience with her clothes ended. He traced his tongue to her other hard nub then with his right hand pulled the neckline to the side, which allowed him to taste the sweet flesh at the top of her breast.

  He cupped her round ass in his hand and squeezed, pushing her against his own hardness. The cold wet of their clothing did nothing to dampen his heat. He wanted to simply lift their clothes and enter her, but not for their first time together. He needed to pleasure her first. He could not offer his heart to any woman, but he could offer pleasure.

  With a groan, he left her breast and pulled her tight against him. As her hands came around his neck, she tilted her face up. He bent his head to her quest and allowed her tongue entry into his mouth. Her assertive probing fed his need. With both hands, he lifted her leine to her waist, giving him access to her bare ass. He kneaded and spread her while pushing her against him.

  Her kiss grew insistent, and as she sucked on his tongue, his craving heightened. Breaking away, he took a moment to calm himself. There was no reason to rush their joining. Her dazed expression proved she was lost in their passion as well, so he took advantage of that and pulled the leine over her head to reveal her body. His breath left him as she stood still, allowing him time to study every inch of her.

  She was strong and lithe. No wonder she walked with confidence. Her breasts were heavy, her nipples peaked, her waist slender with a hint of muscle in her stomach. The slight roundness of her hips tapered to long, strong legs with just the right amount of padding to make her perfectly female. The juncture of her thighs fascinated him. The blond hair there was short and in a point that led directly to her sex. He’d never seen hair like that.

  “Your turn.” Her voice startled him.

  He swept his gaze to meet hers and found her with one brow lifted in expectation. With the speed he was known for in battle, he untied his shoes and stepped from them before he pulled the leine over his head. His stomach and abdomen were moist from where her wet clothes had soaked his, but as her gaze roved over his nude body, the tip of his cock turned moist, too.