by Mary Wine
“Ye need to learn to be easy in me company,” he said.
He released her, grabbed his second belt, and secured it around his waist before retrieving his bonnet from the table. With a wink, he headed for the door and disappeared, giving her a glimpse of Skene waiting outside.
Easy in his company?
She was fairly sure her hair would be gray before such a thing came to pass.
Seven
Summer came, and the crops ripened.
Ailis spent more time in the kitchens, overseeing the enormous task of preparing the castle for the lean months of winter. Wagonloads of fleece came in from where Bhaic and his men were supervising the shearing of the sheep. Days passed in which all she did was catalog load after load of wool.
They built fires near the banks of the river, setting huge caldrons on them to warm. They all tucked their skirts up to kept their hems from the flames as fleece was dunked into the hot water and washed.
Her hands were rough from the lye soap, but the bundles of drying fleece pleased her. It was the sight of prosperity, of life. The fleece would be sold south, bringing income. It was so valuable, Bhaic took over half the retainers with him every morning to safeguard the incoming wagons. Some nights, he didn’t return.
Her brothers would be doing the same.
But for the first time, Bhaic and Duncan wouldn’t be raiding each other.
Aye, “hopeful” was the word for her mood.
Even Angus wasn’t shooting her suspicious looks anymore. The burly captain had settled into a silent contemplation she might have called a glare if she wasn’t feeling hopeful.
At least until the night she caught a whiff of her supper and ran from the hall. Two serving maids had to jump out of her path, or she would have run them over. Finley stood up so fast, he turned over the bench he’d been sitting on. Men looked up, and Lyel took off after her, but all Ailis could manage to focus on was not throwing up in the hall.
She ended up in her chamber, draped over the chamber pot that was thankfully empty.
“Here now…” Helen said as she and Senga arrived.
“Give me a moment…”
They both ignored her, coming around the privacy screen. Helen wiped her face with a cool cloth as Senga helped her off her knees.
“Really, I do nae need help,” Ailis protested. What she needed was a corner to hide in.
Lyel had the outer door of the chamber pushed open, looking in, trying to judge her condition for himself. There was shuffling on the steps as Finley brought up the healer.
“I’m fine,” Ailis said.
She was completely ignored.
“Ye’ll sit, mistress.” Marcus took several long steps into the chamber, making it clear he wasn’t leaving until the healer had seen her. “And we’ll hear what the healer has to say.”
“What are ye doing in me chamber?”
Marcus hooked her upper arms and lifted her right off her feet. She gained a brief moment of shocking firsthand understanding of just how strong he was before he deposited her on a stool.
“Yer husband is nae here. So yer health is me concern.”
The healer was a thin man who wore a leather skullcap. It came down over his forehead, hiding all of his forehead and almost all of his eyebrows. He squinted at her as he held a candle up to her face. He examined her hands and fingernails, turning them over several times with his lips set into a hard line.
“No poison.”
Ailis gasped. “I never thought there was.”
But Marcus clearly had. He looked toward the open door and nodded at Lyel. “Tell Duana she can finish serving supper.”
“Really, it was just a queasy belly.”
The healer grunted before standing. “I suggest ye send a midwife up.”
Marcus had been watching with an unreadable expression, his arms crossed over his chest. The first genuine smile she’d ever seen appeared on his lips, lasting only a moment before he turned and disappeared through the doorway.
A midwife?
* * *
Bhaic and his men escorted the last of the fleece. The village was full of cheering when they were sighted on the road, and someone even rang the church bell.
In response, the men on the walls of the castle began to ring the bells. Ailis left the drying bundles of wool and started down the road toward the castle with the rest of the women.
But she stopped, watching the stallion charging up the road toward them. Bhaic was leaning low over the beast’s neck, letting him have his freedom. The stallion made good use of his strong legs, sprinting up the road until Bhaic pulled him up, slowing him with a firm hand. The stallion snorted, clearly unhappy. Bhaic leaned over and hooked her about the waist. He pulled her off the ground and onto the stallion.
She ended up gripping him for dear life as the women around her laughed.
All Ailis cared about was the way his scent filled her senses.
Bhaic.
She shivered, feeling as though the scent touched her. How long had they been separated? Was it really long enough to feel so needy?
She dug her fingers into his clothing, uncaring if she tore it off him. He growled next to her ear, the sound raising gooseflesh along her body.
They reached the stable, and he rode right inside it, slipping off the back of the stallion before he reached up to help her down.
She slid happily into his embrace.
“I can nae wait…” he said, his tone as strained as she felt. He pressed her back, kissing her as he plunged one hand into the neckline of her dress.
“Christ, how I’ve missed ye.”
She bumped into the wall but didn’t care. She was too busy trying to find his skin. She tore at the buttons on his doublet, and then the ones on his shirt, purring when she bared his skin at last.
“Want me, do ye?” he asked.
He’d grasped a handful of her hair and pulled it just tight enough to send a prickle of pain across her scalp. His eyes were full of need, and she would have sworn his nostrils were flared.
It was blunt.
And carnal.
She raked her fingernails down the bare skin of his chest. “I want ye to satisfy me.”
He shuddered, his body flinching before he kissed her.
Hard, savagely, and completely satisfying. She rose on her toes, pressing her mouth to his, opening her lips and boldly thrusting her tongue.
He growled and bit her softly on the side of the neck.
She arched against him as desire slammed into her like a lightning strike.
He grasped her skirts, dragging them up until he could cup her bottom. It was pawing, but it twisted her insides with an intensity that forced a gasp past her lips.
He was lifting her up, using his body to push her against the wall. She clasped his shoulders and locked her legs around his waist.
“That’s it, lass…cling to me. I swear to Christ, I’ll die if ye do nae.”
He pressed into her, plunging his length deep. She gasped, arching toward him as she used her legs to pull him to her. The wall was rough against her back, but it gave her a solid place to take the hard ride Bhaic gave her.
She didn’t care. Honestly didn’t have any room in her head for thoughts.
There was only the need and the delight churning inside her. Like two sides of a coin, it was impossible to separate them. She craved him, and he satisfied her with every hard thrust. But the moment he withdrew, she hungered again. Bhaic felt it too, riding her with more strength, greater speed, until it all burst. She clung to him because the alternative was to fly apart.
He ground himself into her, his seed hot against her insides.
“Christ…” He nuzzled against her neck, kissing the spot he’d bitten. “I should nae have do
ne that.”
“I am no’ complaining.” She sounded husky, and he chuckled softly.
“Well now…ye were doing a fair bit of yelling…”
She slapped his shoulder and unlocked her legs. “There’s the thanks I get for giving ye a warm welcome home.”
Her skirts settled, but she was still leaning against the wall. Bhaic stroked her cheek, his eyes flickering with a warmth that touched her deeply.
“It was a fine welcome, lass. One I’ll no’ forget.”
For a moment, she was struck deeply by how tender his gaze was. The loneliness that seemed her constant companion evaporated as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. It was as though he was the other part of her. She hadn’t realized she’d longed for him until he’d returned.
Men were starting to make their way into the stables now, horses snorting, happy to be home. Bhaic’s stallion had found an empty stall and was busy eating.
Bhaic backed away from her, turning to begin relieving his stallion of its saddle. She watched for a moment, soaking him up.
* * *
Shamus was in good cheer at supper, slapping the table and laughing as he retold stories. The hall was full of more life than it had been. Ailis sat at the high table longer than she had in weeks, nibbling on a piece of bread. The staff knew not to fill her plate, but Bhaic stared at the empty place with a question on his face.
She shook her head, not wanting to pull him away from his father. But Shamus caught her motion.
“Have eyes only for yer wife?” he demanded. “Well now, I recall being much the same way. Off to bed with ye. I’m looking forward to a grandson.”
Bhaic pushed his chair back, and hers as well. He clasped her hand and pulled her above stairs at a speed that had her heart pounding.
For all that she’d slept in his chamber while he was gone, she felt shy with him there now. There was still so much about him she didn’t know.
Like what he’ll do now that his seed has taken root…
It was a fear, and she couldn’t deny it. More than one man left his wife to the duty of growing his babe while he enjoyed dallying with others. It was possible Bhaic might think his duty complete, at least as far as sharing her bed.
The slipper tub was still in the chamber, the water emptied.
“I should have bathed before having ye welcome me home,” he said softly, “but I could nae help meself.”
He came up behind her, closing his arms around her. “But now…”
He nuzzled her neck, pressing a soft kiss against it and then kissing his way to her collarbone.
“Yes?” she asked. “Now…what?”
A soft chuckle was his response before he stepped away from her just enough to get at the laces on the back of her dress.
“Now, I am going to enjoy spending the night in bed, with me wife.” His voice had a wicked promise in it.
Her bodice sagged, and he eased it over her shoulders and down her arms.
“I’m sure the Earl of Morton would be pleased.”
He grunted behind her and found the lace that kept her skirts tied about her waist.
“Fate has a strange sense of humor,” he said. “I’d have cheerfully run the man through a season ago.”
Her skirts puddled around her ankles, and she turned around as she stepped free of them.
“Go to me bed.” His tone was edged with demand, but a needy form of it she never would have thought she’d ever crave. “I want to see ye waiting there for me.”
She tugged off her chemise, standing for a moment in nothing but her skin. His gaze swept her from head to toe, his features sharpening as he began to disrobe. Ailis took a step back when his kilt hit the floor.
And another step when he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt.
Two more when he reached behind his neck to yank the garment over his head, leaving him standing in only his boots.
He still didn’t look vulnerable.
No, not Bhaic MacPherson.
He propped his foot on a chair and started to pull the lace that held the antler-horn buttons closed on it. Her attention slipped to those buttons, a sudden memory surfacing of Lye Rob’s silver ones. Bhaic wasn’t one to cater to fashion or vanity.
It was that strength of character that drew her to him. He dropped the boot and worked the other one loose.
“Hmmm,” he said softly as he came toward her, “what will it take to make ye properly submissive?”
She chuckled. “Ye do nae truly want such.”
He was looming over her now, his greater height making her breath catch. “Telling me what I want now as well?”
She reached out and stroked his thighs. His lips thinned, the reaction fascinating her.
“Enjoying yer power over me?”
She lifted one shoulder. “It seems only…fair.”
He stroked the sides of her bare body. She’d never realized her skin might be so sensitive.
Or a simple touch so erotic.
She shivered, allowing her eyes to close as she savored the moment.
There was another thing she’d never realized before. How a single moment might be so soul moving.
“Surprising…is nae it…”
Ailis opened her eyes to find Bhaic watching her face. He drew his fingers down her sides again, slowly, so very slowly as he gazed at her.
“Is it no’ always this way?” she asked, her tone a breathless whisper. There had to be something wicked about discussing such a topic.
“No.”
He drew his hands around and stroked her belly until he closed his fingers over her breasts, cupping them and holding them. She shuddered with delight, her heart pounding.
“Believe me, I have never been so captivated by a woman reaching for me as I am by ye,” he said softly.
She rose up on her toes, seeking out his lips, needing his kiss. There was a haven in the intimacy, one she craved above all others. It was some mixture of physical pleasure and spiritual intimacy A place where she was no longer alone.
He lifted her up; she wasn’t even sure just how. Only that they were soon among the bedding, his body hard and heavy against hers. She twisted against him, spreading her thighs in welcome as he kissed her long and deeply, taking his time with the cover of darkness to cloak them, just the embers from the hearth glowing.
The need built in her, rising to a slow boil this time. Her passage was sore, but he eased his length into her, withdrawing and thrusting in slow motions until her body relaxed. By then she was wet and welcoming, her bud pulsing with hunger. Bhaic didn’t leave her unsatisfied. He moved against her, his jaw drawing tight as he held back his own release. She arched up to take him. He held her hands down to keep her in place as he pushed her toward release with a final few strokes.
They were hard.
Possessive.
Perhaps even arrogant, but she tumbled over the edge into bliss under the motion of his demanding thrusts. Her body was eager to be the vessel for his seed, every muscle she had straining upward, toward him in a bid to make him as mindless as she was.
He growled when he lost the battle, his body drawing tight as he buried himself to the hilt. His seed flooded her before he rolled over, the bed ropes groaning as he dropped heavily onto the bed.
“I meant to be…more caring…”
She turned to look at him. “Ye were. Ye always have been.”
He reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. “I thought about it…about ye every night.” His eyes flashed with something, some emotion that touched off a similar one inside her.
He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. “I thought about how much I missed the sound of yer breathing next to me.”
It was an unexpected compliment.
* * *
“Ye seem to have neglected to tell me brother yer news.”
Marcus was leaning in the passageway, concealed in the shadows as supper finished up. For how large a man he was, he was rather well accomplished in the art of hiding in the shadows.
“And ye continue to be very well-informed on the personal details of my marriage,” Ailis said.
Marcus had his arms crossed over his chest. “Ye must admit, mistress, having a Robertson wed to me brother is something unexpected enough to draw attention.”
“It’s been months now.”
“Aye,” he conceded, “and ye’ve done well.”
She had. Ailis didn’t counsel herself against the rise of pride, because it was hard earned. “It is the first spring I have no’ had to attend a funeral in a long time.”
Marcus nodded, his expression grim with memory.
“Of course now, we’re feuding with the Gordons.”
“Were ye truly at peace with them?” she challenged him. “Lye Rob seemed intent on wedding me in order to have the numbers to match yers. I know me father always forbade me to be in the hall when he was there. He often said, with the Gordons, he never knew just where he stood.”
“Well, there is that.”
Marcus wasn’t going to concede any further. Ailis decided it was part of his nature. Helen moved past them, drawing his attention.
“When are ye going to take her home?” Ailis asked, feeling just a bit guilty about using Helen’s plight to change the subject.
Marcus stiffened but clamped his mouth closed.
Ailis smiled. “Well now, ye are no’ the only one who can be pushing their noses into the private affairs of others, saying it’s on account of wanting to protect those ye care about. Helen is important to me.”
Marcus chuckled softly. It was a menacing sound and reminded her of Bhaic.
“Is it a bargain ye want, lass?” he asked her. “An agreement to let ye deal with me brother in yer own time, and in return, ye will forget to mention to me father that I have nae heeded his command concerning Helen?”