by Reece Butler
“Choose us?”
“Aye. If she offers her virginity to us, he may not wish to gift her to another.”
Though his cock stiffened eagerly, Tearlach shook his head. “We all swore to Somerled we’d not have bastards. Father made far too many.”
“Brother, if the lass chooses to bed with us she is saying she wishes to have us as husbands. If King James sees we are a match, he may allow it.”
“Did that herald tell ye why the king demanded a pair of MacDougals go to Stirling?”
Rory’s lips twitched. Tearlach wished to put his knuckles there but held back. He did not want Isabel to see them punching each other.
“Laird Kenneth MacKenzie sent a wee note to King James suggesting the MacDougal clan be rewarded for having such staunch Highland warriors. MacKenzie thought, since there’s so many of us, ’twould be suitable to reward a pair with a wife and a wee dowry.”
Tearlach stared at his brother in shock. “And when were ye going to tell me this?” he demanded.
“Dinna fash, brother. Murray said it just afore he rode off.” Rory bounced on his toes, rubbing his hands eagerly. “And since we’re here on orders of the herald we may be the ones rewarded.”
“But the king wanted Somerled at Stirling.”
Rory sighed as if Tearlach was too dull to understand.
“Aye, and when Murray was at Duncladach he saw our laird willna leave. He said sommat about King James finding another wife for them, one who’ll live with Somerled and Niall at Duncladach.”
“I pity the lass who ends up with our laird. She’d best be as strong-minded as the Lady Isabel or one roar, and she’ll wish to run home.” Tearlach’s lip twitched as he held back a smile. “Can ye see Isabel tossing her rolling pin at Somerled?” He thought a moment. “Or us?”
Rory chuckled. “Aye, I can see getting that wee lass so mad she’d attack. That would force us to give her a spanking, of course.”
Tearlach’s cock thickened at the thought of Isabel’s well-rounded naked arse over his lap and under his hand. “Aye, ye be right on that.”
“The passion that would make her toss things at us would also have her scream my name when she peaks,” said Rory, grinning.
He narrowed his eyes at his younger twin. “Ye mean my name.”
“With her temper there’ll be enough for both of us.” Rory went back to work, whistling.
Tearlach had to move carefully due to his hard cock. It wasn’t all to do with getting Isabel naked. She brought out the warrior in him. The need to protect her hit him when he saw her in the doorway. For now she had her rolling pin, sharp words, and cat. None of it would protect her if she was forced to marry someone like Roderick Graham… He shook off the chills the thought brought. No woman should have to face such a life.
“Did ye see the flour on her cheek? A wife who can make bread would be a good thing,” said Rory.
“Almost any wife would be good. A bright spark like Isabel would make a man eager to work hard all day and come home wishing to please her half the night.”
Tearlach’s cock was not listening to reason. He tried to think of the cold, damp January winds that blew off the sea and up his plaid. It did no good. He still wanted to sink into Isabel’s tight wet heat.
“Aye, and he’d be pleasing himself at the same time,” agreed Rory.
“She is a wee thing. But strong.”
“Do ye think the king would let us marry her?”
“Not all men wish for a lass with sass and spark,” replied Tearlach.
Rory waved toward the river. “Can ye imagine livin’ here yer whole life? Having the trees and the good soil, the land and the hills?”
If he brought Isabel back to Duncladach both she and Rory wouldn’t be happy. He’d have to think on what he could do here, something a warrior could be proud of, in case King James gave them Isabel and Calltuin. He glanced toward the welcoming home.
“I dinna wish that lass harmed, by any.”
“So we do what we can, even if it means going against the king by seducing her?”
Tearlach nodded. His cock no longer wished to salute. The thought of Isabel being harmed made him want to sink his fist into Graham’s face. Or maybe a boot. Hobnailed.
“Roderick thinks highly of himself,” said Rory. “He may refuse to marry a lass who’s been touched by another. The insult would be too great to bear.”
“Are ye saying we can help Lady Isabel remove the threat she faces due to her virginity?”
“Well said, brother!” Rory pounded him on the back.
The possibility of showing Isabel pleasure, and finding a fair bit of it themselves, was far too tempting. If she gave the merest hint of being interested in offering her virginity…
“The king willna be pleased,” he warned.
“If the lass is saved from a man who will kill her spirit, if not her body, ’twould be worth the king’s wrath.”
“Ye dinna mind a few days of thumbscrews and hot pincers?”
“For paradise?” Rory shook his head. “Nay, brother. We can survive much for a wife such as Isabel Graham.”
“What of the old lady and wee lassie?”
“Leave Mistress Janet to me. I’ll tell her of our plan.” Rory rubbed his palms eagerly.
“Ye willna tell her we wish to seduce the lady!”
“Nay, I’ll tell her we’ll allow Isabel to seduce us. Murray will speak for us, and that he suggested it. If the king believes Isabel has already made her choice we may have found ourselves a wife.”
Chapter Nine
Isabel stood before Janet in her mother’s gown, eyes closed as ordered. The fabric was so soft against her skin compared to her usual garb. She didn’t even need her chemise to protect her from the rough cloth. While Janet had laced her ribs tightly she could breathe far easier than when wearing her bindings.
“There, all done. Och, lassie, ye look so much like yer mother,” Janet sniffed back tears. “Green was Lady Elizabeth’s best color.”
“Ye canna be finished. My front isna covered.”
“This is a lady’s gown, not one for servants. ’Tis made to show yer body best so yer man will be proud of having ye as his wife.”
“But I am not married.”
“Once those laddies see ye in a dress they’ll be wanting to change that.” Janet chuckled. “They wanted ye afore ye released yer chest.”
“’Twas not me they want, Janet. ’Tis my land.”
Janet fussed with Isabel’s skirts. “Aye, they wouldna say nay to Calltuin, but their cocks didna rise for a house made of stone. ’Tis yer bonnie wee self they wish to plow and fertilize, nay yer fields.”
“Janet!”
“’Tis the truth, lass. There’s not been another who made ye blush. Roderick turned yer face red but ’twas in anger.”
“Roderick willna be happy if my furrow is plowed by another.”
“Aye, which is a good reason to do it.” Janet chuckled with obvious satisfaction. “And, they be MacDougals.”
“What do ye mean by that?”
“I’ll tell ye in a bit. Ye may open yer eyes.”
Isabel looked down. “This gown doesna fit.” She covered her white breasts with her hands. “I’ll be falling into my porridge!”
Janet pushed her hands away, revealing her breasts. “’Tis how ladies dress for supper. I ken ye havena broken yer fast yet, but ye have naught else to wear. Those lads will be pleased to see ye looking so full.”
“Full? I be overflowing, Janet!”
“Nay, ’tis made to hold ye, just.”
Isabel loved the gown’s color, the soft green of spring hazel leaves. She did not love having her nipples almost popping out. Though if she’d been dressed like this when Rory kissed her he might have trailed his lips down her neck, and farther. The thought of his lips on her breasts made her shiver with need.
“I canna show myself like this. They’ll think—”
“Nay, lass. They’ll not be thinkin’ at
all. They’ll stand there with their tongues hangin’ out, those blue eyes starin’ as if ye are the most beautiful lass in Monteith. Which ye are.”
“But—”
“Ye heard what they said about pleasure, aye? And ye felt a wee bit of it when that rogue Rory kissed ye?”
The reminder of his touch shot heat through her body. Her nipples swelled under the thin cover. An ache between her thighs had her shifting her feet. No, it wasn’t an ache as much as an awareness. She wished to rub it to see if it would go away. Or increase…
“Dinna answer, lass. From the way ye turned red, ye ken it. Now think of his lips touchin’ sommat else.”
“Where?”
“Do ye have an ache, almost an itch ye wish to scratch?”
She did. What if Rory put his lips on her nipples? Or his hand on her hip? Or…
“Are ye sure ’tis decent to feel this? The priest said ’tis a sin for a woman to feel pleasure.”
“If God didna wish ye to have pleasure would he have given ye a body that felt it?”
“Well, nay.”
Janet cocked her head and gave her a shrewd look. “There’s much a good man can do to please his woman.”
“How do ye ken such things? Ye’ve been a widow since I was born!”
“A widow, aye. But not a dried-up old stick.” Janet walked around her, adjusting her gown. “I handfasted with wee Jamie a while back. I canna live with him until ye have a husband of yer own.” She winked. “He be a blacksmith with muscles bigger than those two laddies. ’Tis good to have a big, strong man to lift ye and make ye scream with joy.”
Isabel had wondered if Janet had a beau as she went eagerly to the village a couple times a week and came back smiling. Until Rory’s kiss Isabel hadn’t understood why a woman would wish to lie with a man. Her whole view of the world had changed.
“Do ye think Rory could make a lass scream?”
“Aye, and Tearlach as well. And remember,” continued Janet, “whatever men and women choose to do with each other, is right. Do ye like both of them?”
“Aye,” she admitted, “though Tearlach is a bit gruff.”
“Because he is the elder, and more responsible. He’d be the one to marry ye, and be the one ye’d obey. Ye ken how they said they’d not beat a lass or bairns?”
Isabel shuddered in memory of Laird Graham’s fists. These men were different. And they liked cats. She turned, making the lovely gown swirl. She was getting used to seeing her breasts on display. Would they stare at her with lust, reach to grab her, or behave? How they reacted would determine what happened next.
“Wee Tommy gave his purr of approval,” said Janet. “And when he dug his back claws into Rory’s shoulder the lad said naught.”
“I could love a man like that.” She realized, too late, she’d said it aloud. “I’ve made the decisions here for years. I’d not let them destroy Calltuin just because the priest waved his hand over us.” She stuck out her chin. “I will listen to my husband and obey as necessary. But I willna be meek and I shall do as I choose. Within reason,” she added. “If my husband disagrees we may talk about it.”
Isabel knew a woman vowed to obey her husband. But she had not been raised to obey. She’d had to be strong and make decisions, and live with the consequences of them. Over the years she’d thought of what she wanted in a husband. He should be kind, have wit and a smile, be a strong worker, and be someone she could laugh with. She’d overheard a couple of women say they wanted a man who made them burn. Since the kiss with Rory she’d added that to her list.
Janet set her fists on her hips. She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows. Her look said she knew something Isabel didn’t, and would enjoy the telling of it.
“What!” demanded Isabel.
“Tearlach willna give ye a wee chat if ye disobey him.”
Isabel imitated the gesture. Though her nipples threatened to pop, they stayed within her bodice. “And what will he do, then?”
“Tearlach would put ye over his lap. Rory would lift yer skirts so his brother’s hand hit yer bare arse when he spanked ye. And they’d do it no matter how much ye squawked.”
A shot of need exploded between her thighs. No man had seen any part of her above her ankles or elbows and below her collarbone.
“I would scream!”
Janet chuckled. “Aye, ye would. And that would make them grin and spank ye all the more. Mayhaps they’d take turns.”
“Both of them?” Her voice went so high she squeaked.
Janet snickered. “Did ye nay hear them speak of their brothers and their women, each two men and a wife?”
She’d heard but hadn’t understood. Or perhaps had not wanted to understand. Even now, with her heart pounding eagerly, she didn’t want to admit that both of them made her burn. How could she choose between them?
“What are ye saying?” she demanded.
“Rory and Tearlach are MacDougals. For generations the clan had many sons, but there were few wives for them to find. So they often shared a wife, especially the twins.”
“Shared?” She opened her mouth, panting to breathe.
“Aye. Both men bed the same woman. At the same time.” Janet winked. “Ye’d not have to choose atween Tearlach and Rory. Ye’d get four hands, two mouths, and two cocks. Hard cocks, I reckon.”
Isabel fanned herself. She’d almost swooned when Rory kissed her. What would happen if both of them touched her? She might expire in pleasure!
“Calltuin could use a pair of braw laddies to work the land,” added Janet. “And ye’ll not be chilled in winter with those two keeping yer bed warm.”
“But—”
“Would ye rather wed two MacDougals, or Roderick Graham?”
“Tearlach and Rory, of course, but King James may not agree.” She groaned. “Laird Graham will be furious to lose all that we’ve been sending him. He might even attack.” She rubbed her forehead in frustration. “He might kill them.”
“A Duchray Graham killin’ a MacDougal?” Janet hooted. “Those laddies are hardened warriors. They dinna wear a claymore over their shoulder to look manly. They might lose if ye put five of Graham’s men against one of them, but I’d not put gold on it.”
“But there’s only two of them and many Grahams.”
“If they didna think they could protect ye they’d ask a few of their brothers to help out for a wee bit.”
“I couldn’t ask them to help and give naught in return.”
Janet took her hand. “Lass, a good Highland laird cares for his clan, first and always,” she said softly. “His men do as their laird commands for the sake of their clan, even unto death. The women and bairns obey their husbands and fathers, who have knelt to their laird. They ken he will do all he can for them to survive and prosper. The MacDougal clan is kenned for having honor, and more.” She curled her lip. “Gordon Graham is greedy, wishing only for what ye’d bring him. He wants it all for hisself, caring little for his clan.” She patted Isabel’s hand. “Ye’d be their kin. One hint of a need, and the MacDougals will be comin’ to help ye.”
She’d been on her own, with just Janet, for too many years. Having a husband to support her, or two, would ease her burdens and fears. She and Janet had received no help from their laird. He’d taken, giving only a few scraps in return.
“Aye,” continued Janet. “And their allies as well. That peddler herald said sommat of MacDougals, and now I ken why. They’ve married into the powerful Fraser and MacKenzie clans. Sinclair as well, but ’tis a far piece to Caithness. Dinna fret, ye’ll not be facing a battle with the Grahams on yer own.”
“How could I thank them?”
“As this is yer land, ye’ll be sending naught to Laird Graham. Ye could give it to Clan MacDougal for their help. Ye may wish to send some when ye first marry, as a bride’s welcome, or a dowry.”
She’d sent a lot of food to Laird Graham over the years. Her fury at all he’d done would not help her now, but if she married Tearlach and th
en faced her guardian she would not hold herself back. She would tell Graham what she thought of him! And if it angered her husband she would accept whatever punishment he ordered as it would be worth it. Even a spanking...
Isabel pressed her lips together to stop a smile. It still leaked out.
“What are ye thinkin’, lass?”
She would not tell Janet she wanted a man’s hand on her arse! She looked at the expanse of flesh that jiggled below her chin. “If my breasts havena fallen out by now, mayhaps ’tis safe to be seen.”
“Those lads will be hoping ye do fall out,” said Janet slyly. “Try leanin’ forward and shaking yer shoulders, just a wee bit.”
Isabel did so. While her breasts shifted they stayed inside her bodice. Barely.
“If ye wish to boggle a man from thinkin’, do that. ’Twill drive all thought but one from their wee minds.”
“And that one thought?”
“To have ye, any way they can, as soon as they can.”
Chapter Ten
Rory couldn’t help smiling as he and Tearlach followed wee Jenny and her pair of cats on a tour of Calltuin House while Isabel changed. The lass’s neat braid was tied with a blue ribbon she said Isabel gave her as it matched her eyes. She’d opened them wide to prove it.
He didn’t know if all young lasses chattered or if Jenny was just eager to have someone new to show around. She told them she had named the cats Mud and Dirt because of their color and not because they didn’t wash, because they did, a lot. They helped her with her chores when they weren’t sleeping, which they also did a lot. And though she could run very, very fast the cats had four legs, and she had only two. She then leaned over and demonstrated how cats ran up the stairs. Her palms and soles slapped against the steps.
She took them up the wide stairs that circled beside the kitchen. On the first floor she pointed to an empty tower room, telling them they sometimes slept on the floor there in the cold winter. There was not one stick of furniture above the kitchen.
“We live there,” said Jenny on the third floor, pointing to a set of steps leading to the south garret. She turned to the other direction. “And I hide in there when Ro-dick comes. I dinna like him.”