by Sasha Lord
“I told you to stop!”
Ignoring her, he shifted his hips against hers, seeking her moist warmth. The rough fabric of her peasant gown rubbed abrasively against his breeches, and as the cloth massaged his groin, it brought him to full erection.
She wriggled, trying to avoid feeling him. Her breath shortened and her heart began racing. In desperation, she curled her toes and clenched her fists in an effort to ignore his motions.
“You want me,” he said. “Why are you fighting it?”
“I only want you to let me go.”
He rocked harder, changing position so that his cock nudged the sweet juncture between her thighs. He grinned at her involuntary gasp of pleasure. The ache in his chest receded as his mind focused on his hips. He rocked faster, hearing the rasp of their clothing almost as loudly as their panting breaths. His need for her skyrocketed and what had started as a taunt became a pressing desire.
“You want me,” he accused. “Admit it.”
She flung her head back and forth. “No,” she groaned, but her hips tilted upward, seeking closer contact, and the huskiness in her voice betrayed her.
He released her hands and slid his down her arms, tracing the sensitive inner surface of her wrist and forearm. His pleasure built as her body arched in response, and his motions became more forceful and erratic as he neared his climax.
She writhed beneath him, opening her legs and bending her knees as she lifted her hips off the ground. Her dress bunched between them and she tossed and turned, trying to be free of the restrictive clothing. Her inner muscles rippled, longing to be filled, and wet heat flooded her sanctum.
“Yes,” she gasped. “I do want you! Now!”
He bucked against her, his hard shaft encased by his tight clothes and her dress cushioning his brusque motions. Like rough hands sliding up and down, rubbing his tip and wrapping him in a calloused grip, his clothes encased him and pushed him to ecstasy. He groaned and his hips jerked; then he paused with his eyes tightly closed as proof of his climax rippled down his shaft and dampened his breeches.
Kassandra twitched, yearning for his hips. “Don’t stop,” she begged, but he sighed and rolled off her, exhausted and replete. “Cadedryn!” she called sharply, her center still pulsing with need.
He turned his head and looked at her, his expression triumphant. “You cannot resist me.”
Passion was replaced by fury and Kassandra struggled to her feet. “You did that on purpose,” she accused.
“Hmm.”
“You found your pleasure yet left me wanting!”
“Mmm-hmm. Just a little reminder that you must stay with me if want to be fulfilled.”
Her eyes narrowed and she shook her skirts down. “You are a beast. I will punish you for that!”
He rolled to his side and pressed his hand over his bleeding wound, the pain resurfacing. “The score is not even close to being even.”
Chapter 20
It took several days of riding through the lowland forests before they reached the edge of the Highlands. Throughout their journey, Cadedryn remained alert, listening for sounds of pursuit and ensuring that their passage was well hidden. Once he thought he saw Curtis’s horse, but it was immediately lost to view and he never saw it again.
As the days passed, he was astounded time and again by Kassandra’s forestry skills. She was able to locate sources of water and find edible plants with an innate ability that far surpassed his own, and she seemed to know where there were rabbits or deer long before he could spot them.
Never once did she complain about the dirt or lack of comfortable bedding, and he sensed an aura of peace around her he had not felt at court. Was this the real Kassandra? This woman with a torn dress and wild red hair who rode astride her mare without benefit of a saddle? This woman who cooked over a fire and readily ate with her fingers . . . who strode bare-foot through the forest with easy, relaxed grace as she hummed with the songbirds. Could she be the true melding of Lady Kassandra and Tiger Kaitlynn?
She had not mentioned leaving again, but her gaze often drifted toward her pet and her eyes flickered as if she were talking to him. If she had begged him for Triu-cair’s return, he would have relented. He could not force Kassandra to stay if she truly wanted to go. But she did not ask, and he did not offer. Instead, they rode in unspoken harmony, working together and quietly learning about each other.
Soon they crossed the Highland moors and entered Caenmore lands. Despite being pleased that they were nearing Aberdour, Cadedryn shifted uncomfortably in his saddle.
“Does the wound still plague you?” Kassandra asked.
He shrugged.
“I found some comfrey last night,” she offered. “If you apply it to your injury, the pain will diminish.”
“Your knowledge of medicine is much appreciated,” he said once they paused and Kassandra applied the comforting poultice. “The wounds on your mare healed well. Where did you learn such skills?”
“From the people of my village,” she answered as she glanced at him from under her lashes.
“Ah.” He looked at her curiously, wishing she would offer him more details of her childhood.
Kassandra lifted her chin. “I know more than simple remedies.” She pointed to a willow tree on the far hill. “The bark from that tree would also help your pain. I know plants that relieve constipation or diarrhea, that can induce vomiting and quiet one’s stomach. I know how to set bones, stitch wounds and even deliver a baby.”
“You must have been a fascinating child. I’d like to know more.”
“You would not find it interesting,” she hedged.
He stared at her closed face, aware that she was hiding things from him. He debated about pushing her to reveal the truth, but remained silent. When she felt ready, she would tell him. Until then, he must be content to wait.
“I have never seen a woman ride astride without a saddle. Do you find it comfortable?”
Her brows lifted. “Would you rather ride sidesaddle?”
He laughed and shook his head. “I see your point. The sidesaddle must feel rather precarious.”
She shook her hair back, her expression challenging him. “Does it make you uneasy? To see a woman ride with skill equal to your own?”
“A bit. My mother never sought to excel in the masculine arts as you seem to do. She doted upon my father, always supporting and praising him.”
“So my skills disturb you?”
“Not at all. They intrigue me.”
Kassandra ducked her head and smiled shyly. It felt good to hear him say kind words to her. Her stomach fluttered. “Did you enjoy your childhood?”
“Definitely, but when everything was suddenly thrust into chaos after my parents’ deaths, I became angry. First, my mother died, and then my father sent me from the only home I had ever known. I was devastated. I could not understand or forgive his actions, especially when he was killed before we could come to terms. It was far easier to concentrate on regaining my title.”
“Yet despite your suspicions you did not pursue his murderer.”
“Grief clouded my judgment and anger superceded my sense of loss. I let everyone convince me that he had committed suicide. I spoke of my suspicions only to the one man I called friend.”
“Curtis McCafferty.”
“Aye.”
They crested a hill and Cadedryn pointed to one corner of the far horizon. “That is the land Morgana’s father owned. A large portion was given to Laird Fergus as a dower gift, the same portion my father would have received had he married her.” He turned and pointed to another corner. “That is Fergus land. He has no sons. If I wed Corine, I will own it all upon Laird Fergus’s death, including Morgana’s dower properties.”
“What happens if you die?”
Cadedryn’s gaze swung back to her. “If I die before I wed, Aberdour will go to whichever laird captures her, for I have no other living kin. There will be civil unrest as many fight for her lands, which is exact
ly what the king seeks to avoid.”
“If you die after you have wed?”
“If we have no children, then the property and title will go to the man who marries my widow.”
Kassandra stared at Cadedryn’s tense face and shuddered.
“Come. We are near my castle,” he said as he started his stallion up the last part of the hill. As they crested the peak, he pointed across a vast valley to a massive, gray stone structure with a series of seven outlying defensive towers and two moats. The partial ruins of an older keep lay nearby, giving evidence to the many generations the Caenmores had lived on this land. Even from this distance, the iron-tipped ledges and sheer walls of the castle looked intimidating and powerful.
“Aberdour Castle,” Cadedryn announced. “My home.”
Acres of untilled land rolled from the base of the castle, punctuated by huts with small gardens. Many of the homes looked unkempt and forlorn, and even the sheep herds appeared straggly. Several peasants stood at their front doors, watching Cadedryn and Kassandra pass. Cadedryn’s eyes narrowed in anger.
“ ’Twas not like this when my father ruled the land,” he grumbled. “The fields were rich and the herds flourished. The peasants have grown lazy. ’Tis no wonder the tithes have decreased. I should have come home sooner.”
Kassandra’s inner trepidation built as they rode over the moor and approached the castle. For the first time in days, she felt self-conscious about her hair, and she awkwardly smoothed the strands away from her face as she attempted to restrain the wayward curls.
Triu-cair peeked his nose out from underneath Cadedryn’s tunic. I smell food rotting in the storage shed.
“Most of the lambs are singletons,” Kassandra added.
Cadedryn glanced at her with a lift of his brow. “You know about singletons?”
“Yes, the sheep birth rate. They are delivering singletons instead of twins.”
Cadedryn nodded grimly. “More evidence of inefficiency and poor management. Robert, my overseer, has been writing to me about his concerns, but I thought he had exaggerated. Now I see that he did not.”
Kassandra winced, feeling Cadedryn’s anger. She impulsively reached over and squeezed his thigh. “Now that you are here, everything will be as it should. A home needs its master.”
He glanced at her hand, then at her. “And its mistress,” he replied softly.
Kassandra jerked her hand away. “Do you love me?”
His gaze swept her face, tracing the slope of her cheek and flicking over the freckles that dusted her nose. Love her? He needed her. She knew things that others did not. She had skills that were uniquely her own. He wanted to cherish and protect her. She made him feel more alive than he had felt in years. But love? “I want to marry you,” he said. “I don’t understand your sudden resistance. You found me. You proposed to me. Don’t you want to be a countess?”
She kicked her mare and sent her galloping toward the castle, too annoyed to answer him.
A few moments later, Kassandra pulled her mare to a stop and waited for Cadedryn to catch up with her. She stared uneasily at the castle that loomed ahead. It was larger than any she had ever seen. Her half sister’s castle looked like an elegant cottage compared to Aberdour, and even the king’s court was small in comparison to this Highland stronghold.
She took a deep breath, her gaze darting to the numerous arrow holes and high watchtowers. Over a hundred men manned the military sites, each bristling with shiny, well-maintained weapons and black and red tabards with shimmering silver stitching. No one welcomed their arrival. Instead, the armored faces of the Caenmore soldiers displayed unrelenting menace.
At the end of the bridge, a large iron studded gate slid upward on well-oiled chains and the inner courtyard was revealed. A double row of mounted guards rode over the first bridge and raised their lances to bar Cadedryn and Kassandra’s passage.
Cadedryn sat tall in his saddle and stared at the first guard. “Robert McDuff,” he acknowledged. “It has been ten years since I saw you. You must be well over fifty summers now, but you look the same as you did when I was just a youth.”
The guard peered across the second bridge, his jaw going slack. “Young Cadedryn?”
Cadedryn smiled. “The Earl of Aberdour, at your service.” Cadedryn bowed slightly. “I have returned home. I trust I am welcome.”
“Earl?” Robert McDuff broke ranks and trotted his horse up to Cadedryn’s stallion. He searched Cadedryn’s face after glancing only briefly at Kassandra. “Your father’s title?”
“Has been restored,” Cadedryn finished. He looked at the well-trained men and well-tended moat with pleasure. “I see that your missives spoke true. You have upheld the family honor in managing the castle. My father would be pleased.”
“I was devoted to Liam, God rest his soul, and I am, in turn, your faithful servant, but the peasants have been less dedicated. They are afraid to work the land as they used to, fearing that their fields and herds will be raided by neighboring clans. Perhaps now that you are home, the raids will cease and the fields will be safe.” He spun his horse around and stood in his stirrups. “Sound the horns! The earl had returned! Make way. Make way!”
The guards lowered their lances and shifted to the edge of the bridge as a young page raced up a steep flight of steps and carried the message of Cadedryn’s arrival to the other soldiers.
Soon the trumpets blared and men at every level of the fortress pounded the hilts of their swords against the heavy stone, sending a reverberating welcome that could be heard for miles.
Cadedryn and Kassandra rode the rest of the way into the courtyard, flanked by Robert and the double row of guards.
A rotund, gray-haired woman ran forward and squealed with delight. “Cadedryn! You have returned home! We knew you had been to court and have been waiting to hear the news, but a messenger has yet to arrive this fortnight!”
“Moxie, my old nursemaid and now the castle keeper,” Cadedryn explained to Kassandra as he smiled and swung off his stallion. “Moxie, meet Lady Kassandra.” Handing his horse’s reins to a groomsman, he helped Kassandra down from her mare, then took her hand and held it high. “Lady Kassandra, the next countess of Aberdour!”
Many of the servants who had made their way to the courtyard shuffled and averted their eyes, while others stared at Kassandra with stunned disbelief. Even the soldiers twitched in obvious surprise. Her unusual riding style, her dirty clothes and her flaming tresses made her seem an unlikely countess.
Moxie glanced behind them, searching for Kassandra’s entourage, and Kassandra blushed in shame when Moxie determined that no one else accompanied her lord and his lady. Suddenly, a huge smile split Moxie’s face and she reached to enfold Kassandra in a motherly embrace. “How wonderful!” she exclaimed. “Anyone who loves my young Cadedryn and is loved by him in return will be welcome in this home, just as I welcomed Liam’s bride, Sarah. I will bring you to your rooms immediately and you can freshen up so you may be properly introduced to the staff.”
Kassandra struggled to pull free and took a quick step backward. “No,” she replied sharply. “You misunderstand. I have not agreed to marry the earl. I accompanied Cadedryn to Aberdour only because he stole my pet, Triu-cair.”
Moxie looked at Cadedryn. “But dear,” she murmured, “you are traveling without a chaperone.”
“I don’t care!” Kassandra cried. “I am tired of all these rules! I just want to go home.”
“Lady Kassandra is tired,” Cadedryn explained to the shocked audience. “I am certain you will all forgive her outburst.”
As the servants nodded, Kassandra swung her fist at Cadedryn’s head.
He ducked and quickly wrapped his arms around her. “An amazing woman,” Cadedryn explained aloud. “So brave and daring. You can understand why I have chosen her to become my countess.” His face remained firm as he ignored Kassandra’s gasp of outrage. “Please bring milady to her rooms and send a messenger to my chamber immediately. I ha
ve several missives that must go out today.” He gently pushed Kassandra toward Moxie, then untied Triu-cair’s leash from the saddle and cradled the weasel in his arms.
Moxie looked back and forth between the two people. Lady Kassandra stood with her arms akimbo and Cadedryn’s green eyes were kind but unrelenting. Taking pity on the young lady, Moxie stepped forward and gently took her arm. “Come with me, milady. The day is well over half past. The best you can do is get cleaned up and rested. Then we can sort everything out. Perhaps you can discuss these matters with him later.”
“Just for the night,” Kassandra finally stammered. “I will stay only one night.”
Cadedryn smiled noncommittally and motioned for Kassandra to precede him into the castle.
Feeling unsure of herself, Kassandra entered the vast hall, followed by Moxie, then more distantly by Cadedryn and Robert, who were speaking together in lowered tones.
Once inside, she stumbled to a halt. The great hall was twice as large as any room she had ever seen. Enormous tapestries depicting Caenmore history draped the walls. A long table spanning half the distance from wall to wall had carved edges and heavy sloping legs, which ended in rounded feet, and there were fifteen matching chairs arranged along each side.
Moxie put a comforting hand on Kassandra’s shoulder. “The late Caenmore and his wife were fond of artisans. They welcomed masters in every trade and spent their time beautifying the castle.”
“But Cadedryn’s mother was a peasant. These things are . . . exquisite!”
“Not just a peasant. An artist. Liam appreciated fine things. He met Sarah when he commissioned her father, Mr. Douglas Tate, to carve an end chair for his dining table. He was so enamored of the master’s daughter, he commissioned another and another and another, just to see Sarah again.” Moxie waved at the collection of chairs. “Each took Mr. Tate a sennight to complete, and the late earl insisted that he and his daughter reside in the castle during that time. It was a long and sweet courtship between two people destined to find each other. True love.”
Kassandra walked forward and stroked the sloping lines of a chair. It was as smooth as satin and glimmered with a rich gloss. “Beautiful,” she breathed. “Each one is a masterpiece.”