Honor Before Heart

by Heather McCorkle

  Conflict broiled in Ashlinn’s eyes as she met his gaze. “Will you find Cliste for me?”

  He patted the back of her hand. “O’ course. You go see to Fergusson.”

  Her eyes darted about the busy camp. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Those blue eyes of hers widened even more as they fixed on him. Pink flushed her cheeks.

  “No worries. She and I will be back before you know it,” he said.

  She nodded. “All right. But be careful.”

  Before she could change her mind, he nodded, kissed her hand once more, and then dashed off into the dissolving encampment. Behind him he heard her ask Abigail to accompany her. It tortured Sean to run the other direction when his best friend was having issues. But he knew the man needed Ashlinn worse than he needed him, and Ashlinn wouldn’t have gone without knowing he would be out searching for Cliste. Normally her patients came first no matter what, but something desperate in her eyes had told him that this time was different. There was something she wasn’t telling him, something that made her even more fearful of Cliste’s absence.

  Sore and still exhausted from battle, it was all he could do to keep his pace at a jog, but he managed. Seeing how he knew Cliste’s favorite haunts and the soldiers she would beg off of, it didn’t take long to search the dissolving camp. With no sign of her, his eyes eventually turned to the tree line. It was the only other place she would have gone. Taking in a deep breath, he turned and jogged in that direction. Bare branches of birch and alder thrust through the frosty air, low and numerous enough to make it impossible to see very far. Deeper and deeper into the forest he went, calling out softly for the hound to return. Sean opened his mouth to call out again when he caught a glimpse of a gray tail swinging in the distance ahead.

  “There you are!”

  A dark, bulking figure hurtled at him from a birch tree directly to his right. One arm flew up to defend himself while the other reached back for the rifle he had left in the camp. Something solid collided with his arm and the shadowed figure bore him to the ground. He looked over the blade of a hatchet and up into the muddy-colored, bloodshot eyes of Taylor. The man’s forearm had hit his, effectively blocking the hatchet he had tried to bury in Sean’s skull. Sean tried to turn his hips and throw the man off, but exhausted as he still was from yesterday, he was unable to move the heavier man’s bulk. Grinning so large it made him look a bit mad, Taylor raised the hatchet.

  “Now I can kill two birds with one stone, and no one will be left standing between me and Ashlinn,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  As the blow descended, Sean blocked it with one hand and drove his other fist into Taylor’s stomach as hard as he could. A great breath of rank air blew from the man as he doubled over. Using the man’s own momentum, Sean bucked his hips, raising one higher than the other to send Taylor up and over him. Pain shot through Sean’s shoulder, making him pause halfway to his feet. Rather than try to stand, Taylor rolled over, sat up, and reared his arm back to throw the hatchet. Before that arm could even come forward, a huge gray shape barreled out of the trees and snatched a hold of Taylor’s arm. The hatchet dropped to the ground and suddenly the furry gray shape was upon Taylor.

  “Cliste,” Sean called out, not caring so much what she did to Taylor as what Taylor might do to her.

  However, his fears quickly proved unfounded. In moments Taylor went very still and blood began to flow onto the frozen leaves beneath him. Cliste released the man and trotted over to Sean’s side. Her head dropped low but her guilt-filled eyes still met his.

  “’Tis all right, girl. The man brought it on himself,” he told her as he scratched her head.

  Leaves crunched in the distance. Sean’s head whipped in that direction. Through the white and black trunks of the trees he spotted Ashlinn running toward him. She collapsed on the ground next to him, one hand going to Cliste’s scruff, the other to his right shoulder.

  “What happened? Are you all right?”

  He sighed and touched her hand where it rested on his shoulder. “Aye, just sore. Taylor attacked me. From what he said it seemed like he has been tryin’ to lure Cliste out here to get to me.”

  She gasped and covered her mouth with the hand that had been buried in Cliste’s scruff. Her gaze shifted from Sean to the now still form of Taylor and her expression went hard. “I am so sorry to have put you in danger, Sean.”

  “You, no—” He cupped her face in one hand and leaned his head against hers. “Don’t ever think that.”

  Ashlinn opened her mouth to answer but a soft bark in the distance interrupted her. Cliste’s head jerked up, her eyes going toward the sound. In a streak of gray, she was off like a shot, disappearing into the trees. With Ashlinn’s help, Sean rose and together they broke into a run after the hound.

  Chapter 27

  Cliste led them on a merry chase deeper into the wood. She stopped time and again to look back at them, then bounded off again. No amount of calling, cajoling, or threatening could bring her back to them. Soon it became far too late to suggest they turn back. Not that Sean would without Cliste. But, at this distance from camp, they may as well catch the hound and meet up with army further down the road. After a time they had to slow down to a walk so they could both catch their breath. Despite his suggestions, Ashlinn refused to stop, even once the rain began.

  On and on they went and on and on Cliste led them. At this rate Sean began to fear they would reach Falmouth before the army, if they were still going in the right direction. He was no longer sure. Daylight began to wane, casting the long shadows of tree trunks across the damp forest floor. The air grew cooler to the point where Sean was uncomfortable in his wet clothing, which meant Ashlinn had to be cold. Her jaw quivered a bit but he wasn’t sure if she was shivering or fighting the urge to cry.

  Darkness began to set in and with it came the beginnings of frost. With no tent, no bedding, Sean had no idea what they were going to do. They could freeze to death if the temperature dropped as low as it had been in past nights. He had his knapsack, but a violin and two days or so of hardtack wouldn’t exactly keep them warm. His plans for the day couldn’t have gone more wrong.

  A shape loomed in the shadows of the trees ahead, a building perhaps. Tugging Ashlinn to his side, Sean pointed to the building, then to his lips. She nodded. Careful to keep them hidden behind the trees, Sean slowly approached. The closer they came, the less he worried. The building was little more than a shack with a moss-covered roof and one filthy window to the right of a door that sat partly askew on its hinges. A hunting shack, most likely. The South was littered with them. Sitting before the door, as if waiting to be let in, was Cliste. She looked at them and gave a quiet woof.

  Letting out a colorful curse in Gaelic, Ashlinn tried to rush toward the hound, but Sean held her back. He pointed to his eyes and made a circling motion toward the shack. To his surprise, she nodded. With a pointed look at her, he let go of her hand. As if she’d read his mind, she stuck close by him. They made their way slowly around the shack, keeping behind trees when they could, hurrying when they couldn’t. Barely larger than a tent as it was, the trip around it was short. The small window beside the door was the only one.

  Sean made his way up to the window, ignoring Cliste’s tail thumping against the wooden step. He had to swipe grime and mold off the glass. Inside stood a wooden platform that could either be a bed, a table, or both, over which a few shelves filled with blankets were mounted. A trunk sat at the foot of the bed and a small cast iron wood stove sat to the right of it. Over everything lay a thick layer of dusk.

  Through the umbrella of evergreen trees overhead, Sean searched. A canopy of thick clouds oozing rain covered the sky, obscuring the stars. But, Sean was fairly certain they weren’t far out of Falmouth. Far enough, though, that they would need to camp for the night. This seemed as good a place as any.

  Shaking his head, Sean patted Cliste on the head. “Whatever are you up to, houn
d?”

  Tongue lolling out the side of her mouth, she seemed to smile at him. He hated it when she did that; it usually meant trouble of some kind. Still, she had at least led them to somewhere dry for the night. He worked on opening the door that was only half-attached to hinges while Ashlinn scolded the hound thoroughly. Darkness settled its full weight over them, making it hard to see. Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the step beneath his feet. The pitter-patter of rain that had persisted all day suddenly increased tenfold and became hard little balls of ice. Cliste whined and pressed against his legs while Ashlinn pressed against his back.

  Gently pushing them both back, he opened the door and ushered them inside. Unable to see, he had to feel his way along the wall so he didn’t smack into anything. Stopping just inside, he removed his knapsack and dug inside until he found his small box of lucifers and the snub of a candle he had left. He struck a lucifer against the rough wood of the wall and lit the candle. For such a small thing, it managed to pour an adequate amount of light into the room. Sean carried it over to the trunk.

  Inside he found more candles, a collection of skinning and carving knives, and a few corked bottles of what he suspected were moonshine.

  “What is this place?” Ashlinn whispered.

  “A huntin’ cabin. One that hasn’t been used in a while from the looks o’ it.”

  Ashlinn began to pull down the blankets and shake them out. “We should not stay long. Just enough to rest.”

  Her voice was so quiet it was hard to hear over the pounding of rain upon the roof. The fear in her tone caught his attention. He sat the candle down on the top of the trunk and went to her. Taking her in his arms, he became alarmed at how much she shivered.

  “We aren’t far from Falmouth. We’ll be safe enough for the night. I’m going to see if there is any wood outside we can use to start a fire,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. “Do you think that is a good idea? Someone could see the smoke.”

  Rubbing her arms, he pressed close to her for a moment. “Not in this storm, they won’t. Besides, if we don’t get dry and warm, frostbite could set in. No worries, I’ll be right back.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded.

  Careful not to let the door fall off the hinges, he went back out into the wet darkness. When they had walked around the shack he had seen a small lean-to on one side that had wood piled beneath it. One hand on the wall of the shack to guide him, he walked around to that side. Beneath the cover of the lean-to, he dug back into the woodpile until he reached dry pieces. Gathering as many as he could, he returned to the shack. No light filtered through the window, making him wonder if the candle had gone out. Then he realized a blanket covered the window. That was his Ashlinn, always thinking. The moment he tried to open the door she was there, helping.

  The thanks on his tongue froze the instant he stepped within the candlelit room and laid eyes on her. Gone were her coat, boots, and cap. Her damp tunic clung to her body like a second skin, revealing the outline of her corset and her plump breasts that rested above it. The points of her nipples pushed against the white cotton fabric, making his knees and his will weak. Long, wet strands of her hair rested over her shoulders and down the sides of both breasts, outlining them. Just like that, he became hard as a lad glimpsing his first naked woman through a peep hole.

  Finally, shamefully, his eyes made their way up to her face. Pink colored her cheeks, but she made no move to cover herself. Bottom lip pulled in between her teeth, eyes locking with his, she prowled toward him. That was the only way he could think of the way she moved, as a prowl. It was quite possibly the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Digging up all his willpower, he looked away. The timing, the place, none of it was right. She deserved to be treated with more respect than this.

  He dropped the wood near the fireplace and slowly walked to meet her. She peeled his coat from him and let it drop to the ground. Her hands splayed across his wet shirt, sliding ever lower. They passed his waistline and brushed his erection, making it press harder against his breeches. Moaning, she worked her way back up to his belt. The sound made his eyes roll back into his head. When she started to unbuckle his belt the last of his resistance washed away and he was at her mercy. That’s when he realized, timing and place could be dammed, she was right and that was all that mattered.

  Chapter 28

  She was aware of what the male anatomy looked like from her medical work, but never had she seen it in such a manner. Looking upon it for the first time—aroused no less—she felt as ignorant as any maid would. Rather than strike concern or uncertainty into her, it kindled curiosity and need.

  “Oh my,” she murmured in an appreciative tone.

  She hadn’t even realized she had spoken aloud until Sean laughed, a warm sound that resonated deep with desire. Hoping her hands weren’t too chilled, she took hold of his erection, stroking the surprisingly silky skin. That it could be both silky soft and hard as a rod at the same time was a marvel to her. The moan that slid from him chased away the chill clinging to her, sending a lightning bolt of heat straight to her midsection. Seeing him with his head thrown back, muttering in Gaelic, only served to stoke the growing fire within her.

  The almost painful looking mixture of passion and restraint that filled his eyes when he looked down at her made her heart skip. His fingers slowly pulled her tunic free from her breeches but he paused before lifting it.

  “I will cherish and respect you just as much tomorrow as I do tonight. It is not my intent to dishonor you, however. If you are not sure about this…”

  Shaking her head, she pressed a finger to his lips. With her other hand she relinquished his erection only to pull him close and press it against her lower stomach. “I am more sure of this than I have ever been of anythin’ in my life. Too long I have hidden away who I really am and done what society deemed proper, what my parents wanted me to do, what my brothers wanted me to do. Tonight I do what I want to do.” Each word filled her with courage and determination, like sips of wine from an endless goblet. Only it wasn’t spirits giving her this fearlessness, it was desire and need.

  For all her boldness learning and practicing medicine when society deemed it most improper, she had never felt so bold as she did tonight. Pressed up against Sean, his body mostly naked against her wet clothing, she both saw and felt how much he wanted her. He stroked her cheek.

  “How can I argue with an angel?”

  Laughing, she pushed back from him just enough to peel her wet tunic off and toss it aside. Cool air tickled across her bare breasts, tightening the skin of her areolas as her nipples hardened. It felt deliciously wicked when Sean’s eyes dropped to take her in. His rough hands covered her breasts, cupping them as if they were precious orbs made of glass. She leaned into his touch, pulling his body tighter against hers at the same time.

  “Tonight I am more devil than angel,” she whispered.

  Soft lips covered hers, gently pushing them apart to allow his tongue access to her mouth. His exploration was reluctant, slow, as if he awaited her permission with each flick. Using her own tongue like a lure, she drew his into her mouth deeper, swept under and across the top of it, sucked gently. At that his erection jumped against her stomach, making her realize she wanted more of him inside her, sooner rather than later. The wait had already been excruciatingly long. She drew back from him, pulling her breasts from his needing hands, and turned.

  “Will you help me with my corset?” Her words were scarcely more than a breathy plea. The blasted thing was nearly impossible to get off by herself when wet. She didn’t want a stitch of clothing between them.

  His fingers worked at the laces until finally he had them loose enough that she was able to push it down over her hips and step out of it. Arms wrapping around her, he unbuttoned her breeches and slid them off her as well, going slow over the curve of her buttocks as if savoring the view from behind. Hands, trailing back up her legs, over her hips, and around to the front of
her stomach, he slowly stood back up. She leaned against him. The planes of his chest blazed hot against her back, the swell of his erection pulsed against her buttocks.

  One of his hands trailed up to cup her left breast while the other moved down to toy with the edge of her pubic hair. The ache, the need for him to touch more soon had her gasping for breath. Instead of begging like she so desperately wanted to, she reached up to grasp the back of his neck and pull him down for another kiss. His tongue delved into her mouth at the same moment his hand brushed lower over her mound of hair. A single finger slid between her wet folds, tearing a moan from her that he swallowed eagerly. That finger pushed down lower, dipping inside her channel. Slowly and gently, his finger began to move in and out of her, making her knees weak. The sensation was amazing, like a million points of pleasure being rubbed all at once. She wanted to return the favor, she had to return the favor.

  The bed that she had made up with the nearly half a dozen blankets she had found in the place began to look all the more inviting. Cold, packed dirt beneath her feet helped ground her and bring her back to herself as she stepped toward the bed. Tonight would not be all about pleasuring her; she wouldn’t allow it. This was about them both. One of his hands grasped hers as she walked away and she clung tight to it, pulling him along with her.

  Sometime during her disrobing, he had stepped out of his breeches and now stood completely naked before her. Fit and trim as only a half-starved soldier could be, he still managed to be so handsome he was breathtaking, scars and all. He walked closer but he did so slowly, as if giving her a chance to change her mind.

  “You’re sure of this?” he asked.

  A grin worked its way across her lips. She leaned back onto her elbows, loving how his gaze raked across her naked body with a barely contained need. “Careful, you will make me feel as if I am the one ravishin’ you if you keep hesitatin’.”