Highland Lover

by Hannah Howell

  “Artan is quite the font of wisdom,” muttered Alana.

  For a while they ate and talked quietly, sharing what news they had each gathered over time. Even old news was welcome, for it could always warn of some future trouble or explain why something had happened. It was not until Brother Matthew stood up, ready to return to the monastery, that Alana realized the full awkwardness of her situation. She breathed a hearty sigh of relief when Gregor grasped her cousin by the arm and led him out of the cottage, talking all the while about Matthew’s kind hospitality, the good food, and the rigors of travel. Cowardly though it was, Alana was more than happy to allow Gregor to deal with whatever lectures, demands, or protests Matthew intended to offer.

  Gregor stopped several feet away from the cottage and looked at Brother Matthew. The man scowled at him. “Naught ye can say will change my mind. Or hers. We stay together.”

  “She is a weelborn lass,” began Matthew.

  “I ken it. I also ken she is the sort one marries. That is for us to decide, however. She is two-and-twenty, nay some young, sweet bairn of a lass just cut loose of her nurse’s apron strings.”

  “She is an innocent nonetheless.”

  Gregor decided it would not be wise to correct the man about that. He suspected Brother Matthew was not really referring to the innocence of Alana’s body anyway. The man was right, too. Alana was not the sort of woman a man used for his pleasure and then walked away from. As her kinsman, the good monk also had every right to be angry and concerned. It was, perhaps, only fair to speak the truth. For the last few miles, calm, cold reason had been telling Gregor that he would be a complete fool if he did not hold fast to Alana and he told Brother Matthew as much. He also told the man all about the complication called Mavis.

  “Oh, I see.” Brother Matthew frowned. “Are ye verra certain ye arenae legally betrothed to the woman?”

  “Verra certain. No vows have been exchanged, no papers have been signed, and I havenae e’en asked her. Aye, it was made plain that I was there with an eye to making her my wife, and for that I feel I owe her an explanation for why that isnae going to happen.”

  “Aye, ye do.” He sighed and shook his head. “I just pray that Alana doesnae find out what ye are hiding ere ye can speak all I think ye are keeping hidden in your heart, for your sake as weel as for hers.”

  Brother Matthew’s words kept tumbling through his mind as Gregor watched the man leave. He then went to the well and pulled up a bucket full of water. Standing there by the well, he washed up before returning to Alana. There was certainly a risk in not speaking plainly to Alana about what he wanted and what he had to do, and he knew it, but he would take it. He knew Alana would step away from him if he told her about Mavis, if only because she would feel he was not truly free. He could not allow that.

  “Is my cousin verra angry?” Alana asked the moment Gregor returned to the cottage.

  “Nay. I think your sister and my cousin caused him the same concerns. Dinnae trouble yourself o’er him. ’Tis but that, as your kinsman, he feels he must say something. There is a well just outside if ye wish some water to wash with.”

  Alana hurried away and Gregor turned his attention to building up the fire. Tonight he and Alana would make love in a proper bed, and he was looking forward to it. A good fire would make certain that the night’s chill air did not invade the cottage and it would give him light to see her by.

  Brother Matthew’s words continued to make Gregor uneasy. However small, there certainly was a chance that Alana could discover the truth he was keeping from her on her own. Gregor did not need to know the depth of her feelings for him to know that would hurt her. It could also cost him dearly, for she would surely see it as a huge betrayal, a lie great enough to put into question everything he had said and done while they had been together. He had to bind her to him in every way he could without breaking his vow to himself that he would offer her no promises until he had ended all ties to Mavis, no matter how tenuous those ties were. And, he thought as he watched Alana come into the cottage, he knew one way to do that.

  When Alana looked at Gregor, she felt herself blush at the look in his eyes. She also felt her blood warm. It was obvious what he had been thinking of while she had been outside washing off the dust of their journey. For a brief moment, she felt the pinch of shame and embarrassment, but she shook free of it. She knew it was because of her cousin knowing what was going on between her and Gregor, but she would not pretend that there was nothing just to please him and ease his worries about her. Alana also suspected that Brother Matthew was not so pious as to condemn her, and he understood Murray women too well to press her too hard about this.

  Gregor slowly rose from where he crouched by the fire and started to walk toward her. He moved like some great cat stalking its prey. Alana trembled faintly beneath the power of the sensual promise glittering in his eyes. He pulled her into his arms and smiled at her in a way that made her feel a little breathless. Alana wondered if his ability to stir her in such a way would ever fade.

  “We have a bed, my sweet treasure,” Gregor said as he began to unlace her gown. “A proper bed, nay one of blankets spread o’er the hard ground.”

  “Aye, so we do.”

  She stood still as he removed her clothing piece by piece, brushing fleeting kisses over her skin as he uncovered it. Her modesty tried to make her flinch away from such exposure, but she wrestled it into submission. Now was the perfect time to begin her plan to reach his heart through the one thing she felt sure of—his desire for her. He liked looking at her, so she would let him. She quickly discovered that, with her modesty silenced, the way Gregor looked at her naked body was very exciting. It was as if the heat of his gaze seeped right into her veins.

  “My bonnie wee Alana,” he murmured as he began to kiss her throat, pleased by this sudden boldness she was revealing, “ye are as soft as eiderdown and as sweet as clover honey.” He gently nipped the hardened tip of each breast before picking her up and carrying her to the bed. “Aye, and the sight of ye nearly made me forget we have a real bed to lie upon this night.”

  He set her on the bed, rapidly shed his clothes, and joined her there. Alana murmured her delight as she ran her hands over his lean body, savoring the feel of every ridge and hollow. She returned his kiss with a hunger she made no attempt to hide or soften. The boldness that had allowed her to stand naked before him without blushing freed her in many ways. Alana had not thought lovemaking could get any better than it was with Gregor, but she had been wrong. What few tethers she had unknowingly kept upon her passion were now cut, and she took brazen delight in his every kiss and caress. Her own caresses of his long, strong body grew more daring as well.

  A soft protest escaped her when he moved his kisses downward from the breast he had been feasting upon. Alana tried to touch him in all the places she knew he liked, but he proved surprisingly elusive all of a sudden. When he slid his hand between her legs, she opened herself to the intimate caress. It was not until his kisses reached the juncture of her thighs, his mouth replacing his fingers there, that he suffered a check in her bold new demeanor.

  “Gregor,” she whispered in shock, yet her body was already greedily welcoming this new intimacy.

  “Hush, love,” he whispered back and lightly nipped the tender inside of her thighs. “I think ye will like this. Wheesht, I think I am going to like it verra much indeed. Let me, loving. Let me please you.”

  She did. With but a few strokes of his tongue, he banished all of her hesitation. Alana not only let him, she soon encouraged him. Then the tight burning she recognized as the start of her release gripped her and she tried to tug him up into her arms. He ignored her, sending her tumbling fast and hard into desire’s abyss. Alana was still caught firmly in the grip of her release when he thrust inside her, and she wrapped her body tightly around his as he fiercely pushed her right over the edge a second time before he joined her there.

  It took Gregor a long time to recover enough stre
ngth to flop onto his back and tug a limp Alana into his arms. He grinned as she muttered and curled her sleek body around his. His grand plans to make love to her all night were probably ruined, but he was not too disappointed since it was his lovemaking that had put her into such an exhausted stupor.

  In his mind he patted himself on the back, pleased that he had heeded Liam’s advice years ago. There certainly was satisfaction in knowing he had given Alana something he had never given another woman. It was small payment in return for the gift of her innocence, but it still pleased him. He had thought his cousin a bit of a fool for not taking his fill of every sensual experience he could, but something had caused him to heed the man’s advice. Not quite understanding why, he had found himself holding back a little and he was now very glad of that. There were things he could do with Alana that he had never done with another woman, and he was eager to try every one.

  He was not sure he could ever share that knowledge with her, however, for it could remind her a little too clearly that he had vast experience, but it was still satisfying. The fact that she had gone wild with desire as he had kissed her so intimately had certainly pleased him. He had every intention of doing it again.

  And, he thought as he felt Charlemagne curl up by his side, he had every intention of keeping Alana. Now that the decision had been made, he wondered why he had hesitated to face the truth for so long. She was his mate. There was no doubt in his mind that Alana felt right; she fit.

  Gregor inwardly shook his head. There was no comparison between the cold, somewhat mercenary plans he had been making concerning Mavis and the ones he now made concerning Alana. Letting his heart lead him in deciding what to do in this matter was not what made him a fool. Trying to use calm, cold reason and nothing else when it concerned something so sweet and hot as what they shared together did, however. It did not even matter if he felt he could use the word love when describing what flared between them and what made him feel bound to her in so many ways. He could sort out those feelings later. As soon as he released Mavis, he intended to tie Alana to his side in every possible way known to man. She did not know it yet, but she was caught and he would never let her go. He had been her first lover, and he intended to be her last.

  Chapter 13

  “We have a horse,” Gregor announced as he stepped into the cottage, his hair still damp from his morning wash. “Your cousin has been verra kind to us and given us a horse to ride to Scarglas.” He handed Alana a short letter that had been tied to the horse’s saddle along with a pack full to bursting with food.

  Alana smiled as she read her cousin’s farewell, one surrounded by apologies for not being able to say it in person. A part of her relaxed, the small part that had feared his disapproval and scorn. Matthew also asked that she be sure to send him word of everything that happened once she got to Scarglas and was eventually reunited with Keira. Alana was not sure what Matthew expected to happen to her, for Scarglas surely marked the end of her journey, but she silently vowed to write him a very long letter as soon as possible. As she tucked the small letter into her pouch, she had to smile over the way he had said he felt sure they could borrow Brother Peter’s horse. There was still a lot of mischief in her cousin.

  When she followed Gregor outside, she nearly gasped aloud. Brother Peter had a very fine horse, so fine that Alana was a little wary about taking it. It seemed strange, however, that a monk would keep such an elegant animal. Big, mottled gray, and strong, this was a knight’s horse, the mount of a warrior, not a monk.

  “Cease your frowning, love,” Gregor advised as he mounted the big stallion and pulled Alana up behind him. “I truly do mean to return this horse.” He patted the animal’s strong neck. “Or pay weel for him if he proves a weel-behaved lad. The poor beast must be weary of standing about and doing nay more than pulling a cart or taking a monk on a slow amble down the road.”

  “I was thinking much the same.” Alana looked up at the sky and grimaced. “I believe our spell of verra fine weather is soon to come to an unpleasant end.”

  After a quick glance up at the sky, Gregor nudged the horse into a slow trot. “It certainly doesnae look promising, but at least we can ride through it now instead of walking.”

  Alana was not sure that would make travel in the rain all that much better. Twisting the sling that held Charlemagne off to her side, Alana put her arms around Gregor’s waist and rested her cheek against his back. She yawned widely and then grinned even as she felt herself blush. Gregor had wakened her once during the night to make love to her, and she had greeted the morning with him making love to her again. She had become utterly shameless and, despite the shyness and embarrassment she had not yet fully conquered, she fully intended to be shameless again.

  She had discovered more than a blinding passion in Gregor’s arms last night. Alana knew she had discovered something about herself. When she set that wanton part of her free, she felt beautiful and more womanly than she had ever felt before. The way her boldness so clearly enflamed Gregor gave her a sense of power. Although she knew she would never abuse it, she had liked the taste of it. She also recognized the threat to herself in such feelings, for they could make her feel too confident, even make her think she had already won the battle for Gregor’s heart. That could be very dangerous indeed, she thought as she closed her eyes. If she lost her battle to win Gregor as her own, that confidence would ensure that the fall she suffered when he walked away would be very hard indeed.

  The feel of chilly water falling on her face woke Alana from a very pleasant dream of Gregor holding their child and smiling at her with love in his fine eyes. She scowled up at the sky, knowing by the ominous roiling of the dark clouds that the gentle rain falling now would soon become a deluge. A sharp meow drew her attention and she quickly adjusted the sling so that a very cross-looking Charlemagne was sheltered from the rain. It would serve only for a little while, however, as the blanket was no real protection against a cold, hard rain. Neither was her cloak.

  “Awake now, are ye?” asked Gregor.

  “Aye. Sorry I was such poor company,” she replied. “We are soon to be thoroughly soaked, I am thinking.”

  “Mayhap, but there is a wee shepherd’s hut but a short ride from here. Your cousin left me a verra detailed map. I think he suspected that the weather could easily turn against us.”

  “Matthew has always had a keen skill at judging such things.”

  “He also seems to ken the importance of marking each and every possible place to shelter from the rain when he draws a map.”

  “Ah, weel, Matthew has also always hated to get wet.”

  “That explains the map, then. I thought it odd that he would leave me a map to show me the way to my own home. ’Struth, I was a wee bit insulted. But now I see that he was but showing me where shelters were along the way that I might nay ken about. Mostly for your sake, I am sure.”

  “Mayhap it was for Charlemagne’s sake,” she drawled and smiled when he chuckled.

  The rain was falling harder and the wind had gained strength by the time they reached the tiny shepherd’s hut. Alana stood huddled in her cloak, Charlemagne tucked beneath it, as Gregor carefully checked the inside to be sure that it was empty, of men and of wild animals. And adders, she thought, touched by how her experience with the adder seemed to have truly frightened him. The moment that he signaled that it was all right for her to enter, she hurried inside, grateful to be out of the cold rain no matter how mean their shelter.

  She set her pack down on the floor of hard-packed earth and then released Charlemagne. The cross look the cat wore as it glanced around the hut nearly made her laugh. Charlemagne was becoming one very spoiled cat.

  “Aye, ’tis a sad, wee place,” she said as she took off her cloak, shook it out, and hung it on a nail near the door. “But at least it has a door,” she murmured, quickly stepping out of the way when it started to open.

  Gregor stepped inside and closed the door. He dropped the two packs he had carried
in down next to Alana’s things, hung his cloak on a nail next to hers, and looked around. It was a poor little place, with a firepit in the center of the room and a hole in the roof for a chimney. It was also very dark, the only light in the room coming through two very narrow slits in the front and back walls. The pile of wood and peat against one wall suggested that the place had become a regular stopping place for cattle drovers or travelers. He had seen no sheep as they had ridden here, so he doubted it was still a shepherd’s hut. At least it had a solid slate roof and thick stone walls. And, he thought as he glanced up at the smoke-darkened roof beams, was high enough within that he did not have to crouch. Seeing a bucket tipped on its side in a far corner of the room, he picked it up and set it outside the door to catch some rain.

  “At least this time ye willnae have to catch our food,” he said to Alana as he started to build a fire. “Your cousin packed us a feast.”

  “Matthew felt embarrassed by the way the monks treated us, I think,” she said as she sat down near the fire he was building, eager for the warmth it would provide.

  “Och, weel, as he said, his brethren arenae the bravest of men, and such men oftimes are as afraid of the lasses as they are of big, armed men.”

  “It probably helps them to hold to their vows to think all women are sin on two legs.”

  He chuckled and sat down next to her. “It was nonsense such as that which made Liam decide that he didnae want to be a monk. The mon has a verra strong faith, but he had no tolerance for some of the foolish ideas the cloistered men cling to.” He winked at Alana as he warmed his hands by the fire. “He also missed the lasses.”

  “Ah, I see.” She lightly bit her bottom lip and then asked tenuously, “He will be good to Keira, will he not?”