Hugh secured his horse in the stable and went in search of his steward. He would prefer to have a sense of what the visit was about prior to any meeting.
Locating him, Hugh could tell right away something was not right. “We have a visitor,” he said to Neville.
“Aye, an unexpected one at that. William Bissett is here to see you on an urgent matter, he says.”
“Indeed,” Hugh said. “I’ve not seen the man in several years. Did he give any indication as to this urgent matter?”
“No, but he asked to speak with your mother first and then you.”
Hugh tensed. His mother had been frail these last few months, leaving her often confused. He was not comfortable with her keeping an audience with anyone alone. Hugh marched toward the great hall and swung the heavy doors hard enough that they slammed against the stone walls on either side of the entrance. His mother and William Bissett sat by the hearth with a table topped with a trencher filled with food and a tankard and goblets. He was holding her hands and laughing at something she’d said. The image was far too intimate for Hugh’s liking.
Hugh drew in a deep breath and strode toward them. Placing a hand on his mother’s shoulder, he said, “Mother, are you well?”
She placed her hand over his and looked up with a smile. “I am very well, my love. I’ve been having the most wonderful time with Sir William.”
Her eyes had the spark back in them he’d not seen for quite some time. In fact, she looked better than she had in more than a year. It was enough for him to let the man have his say at least.
“To what do we owe this pleasure, Bissett?” He was not entirely sure why the man’s presence irritated him so he could not help the edge in his voice.
Bissett stood and bowed to Hugh. At least the man had not forgotten who was laird. “My lord, I come seeking your aid.”
“Aye, so I’m told. In what matter?”
Bissett drew a deep breath. “ ’Tis the matter of some trouble concerning my daughter, my lord.”
Hugh had not even been aware the man had a daughter, much less think of her needing any sort of protection. As chief, he was responsible for all of them and, though there was something odd about the way he was reacting to Bissett, he would not see an innocent lass come to harm for his prejudice against her father.
“Go on,” Hugh said.
“Sit down, my love,” his mother said. “The matter is delicate, and you’re making me nervous standing about with your arms crossed as though you’re heading into battle.”
His mother’s gentle words tugged at him. Nothing had been the same since his wife had passed the year prior, and it had been a very long time since he’d considered accepting any kindness. For his mother’s sake, he pulled a chair close to her and sat.
It all seemed very civil; the three of them sitting around the hearth. To an outside observer, it may look that way, but the tension in the air was thick enough to sever with a broadsword. Bissett fidgeted with the hem of his doublet, and Hugh’s mother smoothed the side of her skirt.
“Go on, Sir William,” his mother said. “Tell him what you told me.”
“It seems the king is arranging marriages between his lords in the south with Highland ladies. Have you heard of this?”
That he had. The whole mess with MacKenzie and Sutherland’s sister had nearly brought the country to its knees. To his knowledge, the Douglas had returned to Lancashire empty-handed, but that didn’t mean the king wouldn’t be back again to target some other unsuspecting lass.
“Aye, I have. You have my assurance your daughters and any other lass under my protection will not come to any harm.”
“I thank you for your commitment, my lord, but I am looking for something more tangible than a promise.”
Hugh leaned forward and cocked a brow. “Those are bold words for a man asking a boon.”
“Oh, ’tis more than a boon I ask, my lord.”
Hugh didn’t understand and looked at his mother when she placed her hand on his arm. “ ’Tis been more than a year, my love. You are still young, and you need to find love again.”
The words ran through his skull like a bolt of lightning. He jumped up, toppling the chair in the process. “You want me to marry one of your daughters?”
“Not just any one, my lord. My oldest. She is quite accomplished and quite lovely. She will make you a good wife.”
“I will not marry again,” Hugh said. Christ, this felt like an ambush. No wonder Bissett had wanted to speak with his mother first. “Very underhanded of you, Bissett, to get my frail mother on-side and then get her to convince me of your plot. Know this. I have no intention of taking a wife now or ever again. My word holds true, I will do everything in my power to protect those loyal to this seat, but I will not be coerced into a marriage in order to do so.”
“Sit down, Hugh,” his mother said. “You act as though I just asked you to gouge out your own eyes.”
At that point, he wasn’t sure which would be worse.
Her voice had taken on a confidence he’d not heard in a very long time. “Sir William, will you please excuse us?”
“Do you wish me to leave, Lady Fraser?”
“No, Sir William. You and your daughter shall join us for the evening meal. Anderson will show you to the guest chambers.”
With that, Bissett left, and Anderson closed the doors behind them.
“Sit down, Hugh,” his mother said again.
Hugh picked up the chair and placed it back in line with the others at the table, then took the seat across from her.
“He brought the lass here? Do you not think that odd?”
“No, I do not, since they are here on my invitation. I have been meeting with Sir William over these past few weeks and, once I learned of his plight, I plotted to make this arrangement. So, if you want to be vexed with someone, be vexed with me.”
“Mother, you know what losing Alice and the bairn did to me—to all of us,” he said, praying she would not persist in this madness. He was not capable of going down that road again. Images of his wife in her last moments flashed through his mind and brought on a new wave of aching in his chest. “It would not be fair to her or to me.”
His mother reached out and took his hand. “You have become cold and hard in this last year, Hugh. I never see you smile anymore and I never see you laugh. You are still young, and you deserve happiness. I miss Alice, too, but she would not have wanted this for you. My heart aches every single day to see how her death has twisted you. Please, Hugh, please consider this marriage.”
“You know I would do anything for you, but this is one matter where I must resist. I do not have the capability anymore to be a husband. Alice’s death and the death of my son took that from me. I will remain chief of this clan and protect all those within it with my life, but do not ask me to share a heart that no longer beats.”
“And who will continue our line? If you do not marry, you cannot produce an heir, and you cannot be chief—. ’Tis as plain as that.”
“Is that a threat?” He had grossly underestimated her frailty. This was the mother he’d known all his life, the one who was strong enough to take on anything.
“Call it what you like, Hugh, but you cannot hold the chief’s title if you cannot continue our line.”
“So, you would give it to Connor?” His younger brother was more than capable and more than worthy, but Hugh was the rightful chief, and he would not let anyone take that from him or force him into a marriage he did not want.
“I want you to remain chief of this clan, as you have been since the day your father passed when you were but seventeen summers. Many doubted your capability, but I knew you were strong and noble. This tragedy has left a sickness within you that eats at your soul, and the only cure is that lass upstairs.”
“I have never even met her. How can you know she will cure me as you say?”
“Because I have met her, my love.”
Hugh’s heart pounded in his chest, and sweat b
roke out on his brow. He simply could not go through with it. “Mother, I cannot—”
“Aye, you can, love. All I am asking you to do today is meet her. That’s it. If you truly do not like her, then we will find someone you do like, but I cannot sit by and watch you harden to stone more and more each day. There’s love in you still, and I will not let you give up on life.”
Hugh stood and regarded his mother. She was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind to something, and this was no doubt one of those times. But he was not ready and doubted he ever would be again.
“Forgive me, Mother. But in this matter, I must defy you.”
With that, he left the hall. Striding toward the stable, something caught his eye at the top of the keep’s tower. Something thick and golden flapped in the wind. Hugh placed his hand over his brow so he could block the sun and get a better view. Once he did, he saw that a pair of hands braced the tower wall and a golden-haired head turned in his direction.
For several heartbeats, he just stood there staring. Unable to see her eyes or expression, Hugh could not tell much about her, but he was certain who she was. His stomach coiled into a knot. His horse whinnied, drawing him back to the present. Hugh turned away from the tower and the lass, mounted his horse, then tore off across the bailey and onward toward the road leading to Inverness. Whether or not he would return, he truly did not know at that point.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rorie drummed his fingers on the table. His sisters had insisted on a proper wedding feast now that all the danger had passed and he and Muren were healed. They’d been preparing for weeks, and insisted neither he nor Muren lift a finger in preparation. Now the day was here and he’d not been permitted to see her since yesterday.
“You’re wearing a hole in the table,” Ewen said.
Rorie glanced down at his hand and then stretched his fingers before resting his hand into a loose fist. “Where is she?”
“Lena said they would be here shortly.” Ewen chuckled. “You are anxious to see her, aren’t you? I never took you for the romantic sort. I thought that was my job.”
“I just do not see why there is a delay.”
Ewen made some other jest Rorie barely registered. He had found that he did not like being away from Muren for even a few hours, so passing the night in his bed alone had left him tired and cranky.
Movement from the corner of the room caught his eye. His sisters entered, carrying what looked like a crimson silk scarf high above their heads. It wasn’t until they were almost to him that he could see Muren following behind. His two younger sisters carried the other two corners so that Muren was in the middle of the procession.
His gaze fell over her body. Her curves were much accentuated by the babe growing in her belly, and the cut of her gown only made her breasts look fuller; he could not wait to get her alone.
Lena cleared her throat, which brought Rorie’s gaze to lock with Muren’s. Her face was flushed. Had everyone witnessed his appraisal of his wife? Be damned with them all, she was his, and he cared not who knew the effect she had on him.
Rorie stood and outstretched his hand to her. She took it and sat beside him at the table. Normally, only one chair was seated at the head of the table, but he’d insisted an additional one be placed there for her, too.
Squeezing her hand, he smiled at her. “You are so lovely, Muren. You steal my breath as surely as you have stolen my heart.”
“I do hope you like my gown as much as your eyes told me just then.”
“Oh aye, love. You will see just how much I like that gown when we are alone.” He loved the way her gaze dropped to his mouth. “I would take you away to our chamber now, though I believe my sisters may protest for all the fussing they have done to prepare this feast.”
Muren smiled and leaned in close to kiss his cheek. “I have a wee surprise for you later,” she said.
“What kind of surprise?”
“The kind that will please you very much, my lord.”
Rorie swallowed hard as his loins tightened. The way her voice sounded husky was enough to make him want to clear the hall and straddle her across his lap. He intended to have her in as many different ways as he could think of this evening.
“My lords and ladies, welcome to this wonderful marriage celebration of our chief and his lady.” Ewen’s voice carried easily over the chatter in the hall. “This day, we shall share food and drink and music, and join in wishing them a long and happy life together, with dozens and dozens of MacKenzies to keep them busy.”
Rorie smiled. Ewen had always been gifted with words. He was much easier with people than Rorie ever was. There was no doubt in Rorie’s mind that he meant every word. Ewen raised his goblet to Rorie and Muren, and the rest of the hall followed suit.
“And now we feast!”
With that, the kitchen servants entered with trenchers of roasted fowl, rabbit, wild boar, salmon, and deer. This was followed by steaming bowls of broth, mounds of crusty bread, and barrels of ale. This was just the first course. The feasting would go on for three days, and his larder would have taken quite the beating by the end of it, had it not been for the karts of provisions that had arrived the day before. MacDonald, it seemed, was not as opposed to Rorie’s actions against the king as he’d first thought. With the gifts, there had been a simple note stating they should meet before the first snow fall to discuss common challenges, as he’d phrased it. Rorie would hear him out, but he would not go alone. Trust was a hard thing to regain once broken, and Rorie would be cautious from here on out.
“Something concerns you?”
Her voice could draw him back from anywhere, he was certain. He smiled at her. “Just thinking about the road ahead and how many more challenges we shall face concerning the king.”
“Is there nothing closer that can tempt your thoughts?”
He squeezed her hand again as a trencher was placed before them with the best cuts of all the meat. Rorie tore off a piece and offered it to her. He had never liked seeing his mother being fed by his father and hoped she would not object to taking it with her own fingers. Somehow, he suspected she would prefer it.
Muren took the piece of meat and popped it into her mouth, curling her tongue around the meat just before closing her mouth and chewing. Rorie had to shift in his chair at the seductive manner in which she went about accepting each piece he offered. He prayed he would not have to stand at that moment, for if he did, he would surely give all the ladies present quite the show.
“How long must we stay here?” Muren asked after he ate his fill.
“We should stay until everyone has eaten and the music has begun to die down, but what is the point of being chief if you cannot bend your own rules? Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Aye, my lord. I very much agree.”
Rorie stood then and curled her hand in the crook of his arm.
***
Muren was still grinning at the shocked looked of those present, as Rorie bid them all a fine evening. She noted Agatha’s furrowed brow and could not look Lena in the eye as they walked by. She would make it up to them by attending early the following morning and attending all day. For now, all she wanted was to be held in Rorie’s arms and loved until she could stand it no more.
Lena and Agatha had given her some advice the night before about a certain act which men supposedly loved. She’d never imagined it before and was quite sceptical, so she prayed Rorie would enjoy it as much as the sisters claimed their husbands did.
Now at their chamber, Muren was a little wary of being so bold…until Rorie picked her up and walked through the chamber door, then kicked it closed behind them. He walked with her to their bed and gently placed her on the coverlet. For a moment, he just stood there staring at her. His gaze flicked across her breasts, making her nipples tighten.
When he did not move, she decided to take matters into her own hands, so to speak. Muren pulled the edge of her gown down to expose more of her breasts as she knelt up on
the bed. Sliding one shoulder free, she squeezed her breasts together and loved the way his mouth opened in response.
“Are you trying to drive me mad?” he asked.
“No, my lord, merely showing you what you now own.”
Rorie sat on the bed and leaned back against the thick post to watch as Muren undid the ties at her sides and loosened her gown. She let the other shoulder slip free, and the gown slid down her front until it was only held on by her hard nipples.
“Christ, you are the most desirable woman I have ever seen,” he said through gritted teeth.
Muren let the gown drop then and slid her hands up his legs until his thick, hard erection was exposed. She had not really examined him before and wondered how she was to do what the sisters had told her.
Flicking his tunic all the way back and fully exposing him, she grasped him in her hand and stroked, all the while leaning forward so he could enjoy the view of her exposed breasts.
“Oh God, Muren, what are you doing to me?” His voice was a hoarse whisper.
She leaned forward and took the tip of him into her mouth and sucked hard. His hips came up off the bed in response, and his deep, guttural groan told her everything she needed to know about how he felt about her attentions.
Deeper and deeper she took him into her mouth until she felt him thicken and harden more than she ever thought possible. When he started to shudder, he lifted her from him and then pulled her gown away.
Rorie lifted her legs so they hung over his shoulders and entered her with one hard thrust. Her body shook in response. The act of licking and sucking him had made her wetter than she had ever been before, so much so that his first thrust brought him to the hilt.
Muren’s body pulsed around him as he pounded harder and harder into her. The sound of his skin slapping against hers brought her even higher, and when he stiffened inside her and growled, she climaxed so hard stars formed in her eyes.
Holding onto his forearms, Muren moved her hips to keep the sensations flowing through her body until the last wave subsided.
Heart of the Highlander Page 21