McBain's Bride
Page 7
“Well so am I!”
“You are?”
“You are?”
We stood toe to toe screaming at each other. His news of his upcoming marriage startled the both of us. He stared down at me running his hand through his hair, breathing heavily from his rage. I watched his lovely chest move like a giant bellows until he regained control. He reached for me and I pulled back, away from him. His hand fell back to his side and he sighed, “Lassie, don't be scared.”
I whispered at him, “Stop, Ian, just stop,” and I took another step back which is why I fell backwards over the cliff as the bullet missed me and the echo of the retort provided punctuation to my scream.
~~~~~
Lucky for me, a shelf just a yard or so below the lip of the cliff broke my fall. I ached; it took me a moment before I could breathe. I heard Ian swearing above me, and then telling me to lie still and play dead; it wasn't particularly difficult given the pain in my back. I closed my eyes and went elsewhere for what turned out to be several hours. By the time Ian knelt over me gently shaking me awake the sun was well past noon. He wrapped me in a soft cloak and helped me to my feet.
“Was that a shot I heard?”
“Yes, the dragoons have returned but I am not sure it was from them.”
“It could have been. What if they found the body?” I paled.
“How could they have associated it with you, love? It makes no sense.”
“And someone from the inn shooting at me makes sense?” My hysteria rose and again he pulled me into his arms to hold me close. My back throbbed but I appreciated his warmth.
Unsteady on my feet, I wavered a bit. Ian led me to the steep drop at the edge and helped me find the narrow path that led down to the shore. We were sheltered from sight from above so we felt somewhat safe in making an invisible getaway. At the bottom of the granite cliffs, on the sandy beach, two horses waited, not my beloved Thor but a smaller sturdy mare with a thick gray coat. Ian assisted me atop the horse. He checked my stirrups and then mounted his own horse. We cantered up the beach and around the headland out of sight from the town and the inn. I became increasingly more uncomfortable as we rode and worried I had truly injured my back in the fall but I did not want to slow down for fear of the dragoons and whoever shot at us. We eventually left the beach and headed into deep woods, Ian picking out a path between the trees. The light faded as the hours passed, yet he was determined in his direction and I trusted him to keep me safe. At last we stopped. It was twilight, I could make out a large cottage nestled against a towering black stand of trees or so I thought. Ian helped me down and I staggered against him.
“Worn out?”
“Apparently. Ian, I think I hurt myself in the fall.” He reached inside my cloak to pull me up against him and drew out his hand with a sharp intake of breath. His hand was covered in blood, dark black on his hand in the failing light. I fainted.
~~~~~
I was floating in a lake scandalously naked, warm water flowing over my breasts and through my legs. I dreamed of Ian floating with me in the darkness, his soft voice whispering to me.
It was wonderful...and then I woke up and started screaming. It was dim and I was wet, floating in a small pool, more like a large tub. My eyes adjusted and I stopped screaming, it was rather silly. Ian sat against the far wall in the pool with me; my arms seemed to be tied to the rim of the pool keeping my head above water. I wondered how much of my dream was true. Ian stood and came to me, speaking softly to soothe me. He untied one wrist. Limp, it fell into the warm water. I brought it immediately up to run my fingers over the massive chest that filled my vision. A large naked chest. His lips brushed my cheek as he reached past me to untie my other wrist. By this time my traitorous hand had wandered back across his chest and around to his back, my newly freed hand began to explore his chest anew.
“Now stop right there, lassie.
“I can't seem to help it,” I whispered my voice hoarse, “Why am I naked in a pool with you naked in the same pool? And why was I tied up?”
“The bullet hit you, grazed you more like. The ache you had was a shallow furrow across part of your back. Your fall then tore the skin some and your clothes kind of got caught up in all that and then I had to…”
“Ian, why am I naked, and why do I want to keep touching your lovely chest?”
“It was all the healing stuff I could think of. I put you into the pool to get the cloth unstuck from the dried blood, to clean the wound, you see. And then your clothes seemed to get in the way and then my clothes seemed to get in the way and it seemed like a good idea to just simply remove them. I hope you don’t mind.”
“At least I am warm.”
“And I poured a bit of whiskey down your gullet.”
“Ah, that explains it some. The tied up wrist seems a bit extreme but I guess I approve of the rest. Where are we?”
“At a hunting lodge, long owned by my family, well away from the dragoons and the French. Far enough away for you to mend and for me to…, well never mind.”
I watched my hands continue to explore the expanse of his chest and on around to his back. I felt disconnected from them. I knew they were my hands and they felt wonderful, actually Ian felt wonderful but the part of my mind that should be horrified, shocked, embarrassed at being naked with a man was somehow not in residence. At about that moment, my hands both trailed up his back across his neck and into his glorious hair. I brought his head down to my lips but he had other ideas and detoured to my forehead. Ian gently held me with his lips doing their own exploring that led to very strange feelings in my lower regions. Strange but wonderful. He had made his way across my forehead and was working down towards an ear when I turned and found his lips with mine. I sucked on his lower lip; somehow, it felt like the thing to do. He must have agreed as he tried to do the same and pretty soon we were sucking and biting and exploring things with our tongues. It was all incredibly wonderful and I am certain, quite sinful. My sister never described anything like this; I was going to hell for sure.
Ian continued the kissing part while his hand sank beneath the water to explore my breasts. He cupped them and fondled them and it felt exquisite. He lowered his head and lifted my chest from the water when he latched onto my nipple with his mouth. Heat exploded, coursing through my body. I gasped, arching my back, granting him easier access; my nipples turned hard in eager response. One hand reached lower, one finger searched lower and lower before gaining entrance into my secret place. I moaned, writhing with an inner need to reach the top of this sensory mountain. Suddenly I was atop and my whole body shivered with exquisite release; stars exploded throughout my body. It was a few moments of complete bliss. I had no idea about what went on between men and women; I was ready to learn more. Completely limp in his arms, I luxuriated in the feel of my soft breasts pressed against his hard chest; my toes rubbed his legs whispering against the soft hair and hard muscles. I finally opened my eyes to look into Ian’s beautiful blue eyes; his finger stilled.
Ian looked away and then pushed away from me sending water cascading over the lip of the pool onto the floor of the small room.
“You’re a lusty lass after all.”
“I am not.” I argued touching my fingers to my swollen lips, “Why was that so wonderful and so lusty? Why is this,” I waved my hand across my body, “such a bad thing?”
Ian moved towards me. “No, stay back. I am not lusty, never have been, and yet when you are near all I want to do is touch you. And that makes me a bad person.” I started to cry.
Ian stared at me for a full minute before exiting the pool with what sounded like an exasperated grunt. I watched his well-shaped bum. He stooped to pick up a sheet, and sadly, hurriedly covered his lovely bum. He thrust a sheet at me.
“Robin, climb out, I’ll help but I won’t look, I’ll keep my eyes on your intriguing eyes and we will get you covered and warm and then I supposed I must explain some things to you”. He was as good as his word and helped me from the pool, never tak
ing his eyes off of mine. His intense stare spoke volumes but I was not yet speaking his language.
“I suppose you must because I am powerfully confused right now.”
I turned away from Ian and tucked the soft cloth neatly around my body leaving my arms naked and free. I turned back to him. Ian lied, he had been looking. I gazed up into his eyes, dark now in the dimness. My hand reached up to cup his cheek, his warmth spreading into my palm. He turned his head and planted a kiss in my palm. He then closed my hand around his kiss and placed it against my heart.
“So who are you, Mistress Robin, it is time for the truth.” Ian whispered.
“I can only give you my truth.”
“But isn’t that the truth?”
“Not necessarily, Ian. I left with you several days ago planning on traveling to the McBain’s where the Garnets would come and trade me for their virgin bride. As I told you, I was just a substitute for your strange request. And by the way, you have never mentioned why you needed young Master Robert to accompany you, almost as a hostage it would seem.”
“He wasn’t to be a hostage, more like a guarantee. Miss Bridget has a reputation of being a bit wild and not reliable”
“You’ve no idea,” I muttered.
“The thought from the McBain’s was that this would force her into coming to the Doom and presenting herself to the family. I would hope she would give the McBain a chance and would eventually enjoy being the Lady of the Doom before producing the heir.”
“So Miss Bridget is nothing but a brood mare?” I felt like crying for such a bleak future.
“You sound so sad. Isn’t that what all arranged marriages are?”
“I wouldn’t know. I am a simple lass.”
“Not so simple, Robin.”
“I am but a young lady, better educated than some, more resourceful than most. But just a lass, in the end, wishing for love.”
“Won't you find love?”
“Already did but it is not with my intended. And for him I must remain pure. If my soul has sinned, let me keep such sin in my heart. I shall always hold these hours with you in my heart.”
“Do you love me?” Ian asked with a hint of hopefulness in his voice. He gathered me close.
“I don’t know. I feel something powerful, something grand and intense. But also I feel so sad and cold. My intended shall never know of you, of this misadventure. You, I shall lock away, to be treasured in the darkness of my nights, alone and away from the hated marriage bed.”
“Must it be so bleak?”
“It will be for me, I am afraid. What else can it be? I can never see you again; I can never feel the wonder of your kisses. Some stranger will take me to his bed expecting me to lie still and do nothing while he……does whatever men do, and after dreaming of you, well, after what I imagined with you….Ian, why are your fists clenched?” I pulled away from his embrace, his fists against my back, putting steps between us. I had to separate myself from his warmth, his scent, his very life force. I leaned against the far wall, in the shadows. Ian stood ramrod straight in a manner I knew to be full of rage. My talk of my intended troubled him.
“Tell me of your intended.” I changed the subject.
“She is the daughter of someone my family would have me merger with. It is but a blending of two families, arranged for the good of the family, not for love but for family honor. It is to right a wrong done by our ancestors. It is a great obligation. I must be nice to the wee lass, I must be gentle and kind but I canna give her my heart, for once given it can never be taken back. You have my heart, love, now and forever.”
Tears filled my eyes and a fire pooled in my loins. I had no tools, no way to manage the feelings, so intense they were. I ached to hold him, to have him hold me. I cried as I watched him turn his lovely eyes and walk away from me, leaving me bereft, alone in the dark.
I stayed for an eternity thinking, trying to solve this problem, trying to find blame. It was easiest to blame Ian for taking advantage of me, he was worldly, and he knew what he was doing. He was playing with my heart just to fornicate with me. That sounded so carnal but that’s what he wanted to do. I didn’t admit to myself that it was exactly what I wanted as well. No, this was definitely his fault. He most likely had told that story of love and his heart to others, it was too well rehearsed. By the time I left the cellar and the lovely hot bath, I was sure Ian was the devil himself. He was the reason my family would starve, or at least freeze to death with no roof over their poor heads. Yes, Ian was to blame. I walked toward the light and towards voices raised in anger. Our little reverie was at an end.
~~~~~
New voices argued as I began climbing the stairs. Ian's I knew, I thought I also heard the giant from the beach and one more. An awful row was ensuing. It concerned beer barrels. Being so sure Ian was the devil, I sat on the top step and listened. Eavesdropping was an art form in my family, and I was the art's grand master.
“What are you doing here?” Ian's familiar bellow filled the room.
“It's you who need to answer that, Ian, what are you doing here when you should be at the keep?'
“I am here for my own purposes and no one else's. I am allowed a wee bit of time to myself before sacrificing myself for the family. Before raping some wee lass.”
“It's not rape; it’s the marriage bed, Ian. I should know since I got there before you did.”
“Your marriage bed? I know for a fact you bedded your wife afore the ceremony.”
“She bedded me if you get my meaning, son.”
Oh my, I thought, his father is up above and I am naked on the stairs! I found some scant comfort that Ian did not appear too eager to enter that particular bed with that particular wee lass. She was probably darling and petite; I hated her already. The voices dropped for a few moments and I could not follow the thread of the conversation. I heard boots stomp across the floor and a door slammed. I rose but froze as another voice continued in conversation with Ian, a voice with a French accent.
“You possess some skills with the ladies, yes?”
“This has nothing to do with skills.” Ian replied.
“But it does, it will not be rape if you take your time with the lass. If you feed her fine wine and trail your fingers over her small cold breasts, all your English women have but the tiniest of breasts and they are all frigid; but I think even you can warm a girl’s heart.”
I looked down at mine; they were neither small nor cold, they heated with the memory of Ian. I watched in amazement as my nipples tightened with thoughts of his hands.
“If you use your tongue skillfully, working your way down to her…”
“Enough!” Ian roared.
“I am but offering you some advice, my friend.” The voice chilled me.
“I do not need your advice; I will do my duty and do the least harm with my bride.”
“And then take your pleasure elsewhere? Or will you just come back here?” A hand reached into the doorway, grabbed me and hauled me into the light.
“What is this?” He looked me up and down and started to run the fingers of his other hand around the top of my towel as it circled my chest. I wrenched away from that touch but his other hand held me fast.
“Let go!” I screamed at him in French.
“Ian, you have a guest here, one from my country, how well prepared you are for me, I can demonstrate for you my style and then you can take your ease with this one.”
I looked to Ian for help. He stared coolly at the Frenchman. “That wench is mine. I don’t share. I paid good money for it.” I gasped at his cruel words.
“Then you won’t mind if I pay you for her use. I am cold after my long journey and require some warmth. She will do nicely.”
Ian pushed away from the wall and walked toward us. “If you want the wench, she is yours for the evening.”
My tormentor giggled; his madness added to my fears. I looked at Ian, tears welling in my eyes, how could he? Then I saw it, his vein in his neck, the o
ne that bulged regularly when we screamed at each other. Ian was barely controlling his fury. In a heartbeat I knew he would protect me, how could I have doubted it? He did not want to anger this vile man. He obviously had some plan, some motive.
“It's me you should be paying, monsieur. Not the big oaf.” I added a French accent to my words.
“She speaks,” the man said.
“Let her go now.” Ian ordered and continued before the man could drop my arm. “Go get us some wine and some cheese, it’s down in the kitchen. And put some clothes on. Max, we need to talk, let her go.”
Max did and I rubbed my arm to let Ian know I was not pleased with him. However, I played my part and strutted out of the room, letting the towel drop a bit off my shoulders revealing the uninjured side of my back as I exited. I will never be sure who whistled. Ian owed me for that.
Running down the hall searching for clothes or a kitchen, I realized this was not exactly a cottage, more like a large lodge. Where were the servants and how did Ian keep such a place? He owned the home we were in the other night and this one too? It made little sense. I found the kitchen. Holding the sheet about me, I prepared a tray with three wine goblets, cheese and fresh bread. I stilled needed the wine and some clothes. I left the tray and continued my search. Simple stairs lead to the second floor. I rose to the second level of the massive lodge. Here I found bedrooms and trunks. In the third room I discovered a ladies retreat. Who’s? I wondered. I opened the armoire to discover an array of garments. I chose a camisole, several petticoats and a pair of sturdy ladies boots. I dressed the part of a whore and left my hair down. I checked in the large mirror to see the top of my wound peeking out of the camisole and a little blood leaking. It was no more than slightly sore. I draped my long hair over that side and across my shoulder. Lucky for me I had rarely cut my hair and the massive curls would spring out as they dried providing the wound further concealment. I lightly returned down the stairs to the kitchen snagging a bottle a bottle of wine from a sideboard in a dining room I passed. I hoped it was an expensive vintage.