Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Lynn Tyler

  “Robbie?” he heard Will say from down the hall. He shut the door quickly, unwilling to let Will see Jocelyn naked. Never mind he already had seen her naked. Now she was his, and he didn’t share.

  He cleared his throat and reminded his hard cock that his wife was suddenly horrified at the idea of bedding him. “Aye,” he said hoarsely.

  Will looked at him funny but continued speaking. “Jamie and I were just informed we are missing more than twenty head of cattle and at least ten sheep. We are not sure what is happening. We have been raided before, of course, but never this often or this badly.”

  Robbie felt like hitting his head against the stone wall. They had lost at least a quarter of their herds. They depended on the cattle for the meat to feed their people and those in the surrounding villages. The wool they gathered from their sheep was sold to tartan makers for enough coin to maintain the keep and its defenses. If they lost much more, their winter would be a lean one.

  What was worse, whoever was raiding their keep was somehow able to do so in complete secrecy. They always struck when the men were changing watch. He suspected Henry Campbell was behind the raids. Ever since his sister and Robbie’s first wife, Eileen, had died, he had made it his mission to make Robbie’s people suffer. The man seemed to have a silver tongue and could talk merchants out of visiting and other lairds into reconsidering any treaties they may have with Robbie. He had even gone so far as to hire mercenaries against Robbie and his brothers in the past.

  The problem was, Robbie had absolutely no evidence to back up his suspicions, only hearsay. He refused to confront the other laird without rock solid proof. Blood feuds had been started by less.

  Then there was the issue of how the raiders knew when the watch was changing. There had to be a traitor inside his walls, but he was at a loss as to whom it could be.

  He followed Will down the stairs and out the keep door, joining Jamie at the stables. “Change the time the men change watch and increase their number. I will join first watch tonight.”

  Jamie arched his eyebrow just as Will cocked his head and looked at him with confusion. “I think our brother has finally lost his mind,” Jamie commented. He knocked on Robbie’s forehead and peered into his eyes with mock concern. “Have you forgotten you are newly married? And that you have not even consummated your vows? You are laird here, Robbie. You do not need to even lift a finger, let alone take a watch.”

  Robbie shoved his brother’s hand away and nearly growled at him in his irritation and frustration. Of course he knew he had yet to consummate his marriage. His cock was constantly reminding him. “A good laird does not set his people to do something he himself is not willing to do,” he said.

  “Fine,” Will said reasonably. “You can take the first night watch while your new wife attends your wedding feast on her own.”

  Robbie swallowed a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine,” he bit out. “I will attend the feast and take a later shift.”

  He stalked over to the stable and yanked a bag of oats from the hook, offering it to his giant roan stallion. He could hear his brothers following him inside. “Robert, what is wrong with you?”

  He froze, and the words came tumbling out of his mouth without his permission. “Lads, I really do not want to see her flinch away from me. Like all the lasses.”

  Jamie sighed with exasperation. “Robbie, we have told you before. It is not your scar the women flinch from. It is your reputation. Why do you not just clear up the rumors of Eileen’s death once and for all?”

  “Even if it was my reputation, I will not tell anyone the truth. Would you tell anyone that your wife chose to kill herself rather than to wake up next to a gruesome, disfigured half of a man for the rest of her life?” Robbie growled.

  Will kicked at a rock as they walked back toward the main building. “Robert, it did not look as if Jocelyn was concerned about your scar while she was kissing you rather enthusiastically by the river.”

  Robbie mulled over Will’s words. It was true she had responded passionately each and every time he had touched her on their journey to the keep. But it seemed as soon as they had arrived she had turned cool and distant. Now that he thought about it, she had not seemed to mind his scar at all.

  He really couldn’t decide which was the real Jocelyn. Or rather, what he’d done to instigate her attitude shift. “Aye, well, perhaps I will let the two of you organize the watch. I have a marriage to seal.”

  Cock twitching at the thought of a wet, naked Jocelyn, he sprinted through the great hall and took the stairs two at a time. He skidded to a halt in front of his, their, chamber and eased the door open.

  Robbie was greeted not by the sight of a nude wife but by a blonde maid he didn’t recognize. She was bending over the satchel he had removed from her back just after discovering her fighting the horse thieves. He had stashed it in his saddlebag and had forgotten about it. One of his brothers must have retrieved it and delivered it. The maid was shaking out a gown she had obviously just pulled out of the bag. “Who are you and where is my wife?” he all but growled.

  The maid jumped and spun around, paling when she caught the look on his face. “I am Elizabeth, my laird. I started as maid here only a few days ago. My lady has gone to look at the healer’s old apothecary,” she squeaked, clearly terrified of him. She may be new but had obviously already been informed of the rumors surrounding him. It never took long for those rumors to rear their ugly head.

  Robbie rubbed the back of his neck and swallowed his irritated words. “I am going to wash now,” he said gruffly. When the maid paled even further, he sighed. “You may leave.”

  She dropped a quick curtsy and scurried out, her long blonde hair swinging behind her.

  He shut the door and quickly stripped off his clothing. Stepping into the now lukewarm water, he scrubbed his body free from the dirt that had accumulated during the trip.

  * * * *

  Jocelyn stared around the old apothecary in dismay. The stores of medicinals were woefully small, and those that were plentiful were nothing more than garbage. Leeches left to die and rot in jars gave the room a rancid smell that competed with the musty smell of some sort of mold growing out of a vial in the corner. She would have to completely restock and reorganize the room with proper medicinals. Good God, how had these people survived?

  She backed out of the room, careful to shut the door behind her so the smell didn’t waft into the hallway, and went in search of someone, anyone, who would know where the kitchen garden would be. There were probably some plants she could use in it, and she could scour the forest and fields for the rest before the cold weather came and killed it all.

  Jocelyn spied a tall brunette hurrying down the hall and had to run to catch up. “Excuse me,” she said loudly. When the woman stopped and turned, Jocelyn smiled. “Would you be able to direct me to the kitchen garden?”

  The woman’s eyes widened, and she immediately dropped into a clumsy curtsy. “I am sorry, my lady. I did not see you coming.”

  Jocelyn patted the woman on the shoulder reassuringly. “Please, get up. I will not have anyone curtsy to me. And how did you know who I am?”

  The other woman smiled slightly as she straightened up. “The men at the wall informed us all the laird was home with his new bride. Since yours is the only unfamiliar face I have seen, I guessed who you were, my lady.”

  Jocelyn threw back her head and laughed. It was nice not to be the only female willing to show her intelligence around here. Not that she’d met all that many people yet. The blonde maid, Elizabeth, who had helped her lace her dress, didn’t seem very intelligent though, and she supposed she had begun to judge everyone by the blonde’s standards. “Please, call me Jocelyn,” she invited, linking arms with the woman. “And you are?”

  “Oh, Sarah,” she replied, smiling widely at her.

  “Well, Sarah, where would I find the kitchen garden?”

  Sarah frowned at her slightly. “Why would you want to find th
e kitchen garden?” she asked as they walked slowly down the hall.

  “I was in the apothecary and noticed the stores were dangerously low. The kitchen garden may have some of the herbs I need.”

  “You are a healer then?” Sarah asked, clearly delighted. “Oh, my lady, I mean Jocelyn,” she corrected when Jocelyn frowned at her. “This is wonderful. The last healer…well, she was better at bleeding the bleeding, if you know what I mean.”

  Jocelyn nodded. Leeches had their place, but she had never figured out why so many healers used them on already bleeding patients. “Aye, I do know what you mean.”

  Sarah told her about the old healer, the cook who would refuse to prepare any food if anyone but the laird so much as suggested using a little more salt, about the blonde maid Elizabeth, and the rumors of Jamie liking more than one lass in his bed at a time.

  By the time they reached the kitchens, Jocelyn’s head was spinning. She told the cook quickly what she wanted, and after eating and praising one of the dishes he was preparing for the wedding feast that night, he showed her and Sarah to the garden. She was pleased to find it well stocked with many of the herbs she needed. The others would be readily available in the forest.

  Jocelyn and Sarah walked back together in companionable silence. It struck her that Sarah didn’t have the normal demeanor of a servant or a maid. “What are your duties here?” she asked curiously.

  Sarah blushed. “My father did not think I was a suitable enough lass to make a good bride. He sent me here to learn how to run a household properly. He will be disappointed to know everything has been running smoothly without my input.”

  “Ah,” Jocelyn said, nodding sympathetically. “My father always said I should have been born a lad. How was it that you came to be here?”

  “My father and Laird MacGillivray’s father fostered together. I fear Laird Robbie has taken me on out of pity and obligation. I have known Laird Robbie, Will, and Jamie my whole life.” Sarah paused as if she had more to say. “I am very interested in healing. The old healer, well, let us just say she left much to be desired. And since her death, the people here have been tending to themselves, and rather poorly at that. It broke my heart last winter when a lad, barely two years old, died of a lingering cough I suspect could have been treated with a simple draught had I had the knowledge.”

  Jocelyn patted her arm with compassion. She, too, knew what it was like to lose a patient. More than once she had stayed with someone, trying to make them live by sheer will alone. And more than once she had cried over the loss of a precious life. “Of course I will teach you,” she said.

  The two women stood in the hall, smiling at each other. Jocelyn sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward to have found someone so similar to her in her new home. It would make tolerating the dullness of an empty life easier. Besides, since things seemed to be running smoothly without a chatelaine, she would simply take over as healer. Surely Robbie would have no qualms with that. After all, he was the one who had said they needed to find a new healer.

  Sarah broke into her thoughts with a comment about her wedding feast. “I suppose you should be getting ready for the feast tonight,” she said.

  Jocelyn nodded slowly, grateful Robbie had retrieved her satchel after her fight with the horse thieves. Will had brought it to her just as she was getting dressed after her bath. At least she had this gown and a spare one. And her hairbrush, not that she had to really worry about that since she had cut her hair to her chin. Even her husband had longer hair than she did. Oh well. Her short hair had probably saved her from getting raped by the horse thieves during her botched escape plan.

  Squaring her shoulders and preparing to face her husband, she strode down the hall and toward the door to his…no, their, chamber. She turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly, peeping in cautiously and came face to face with the sight of her very wet, very naked husband.

  Chapter 8

  God’s blood, he was beautiful. She really hadn’t had time to look at him before as he had overwhelmed her so fast. Now she took her time. He was stretched out in the huge tub, looking every inch the proud laird in his glory. He ducked under the water and had just emerged, dripping wet, when he spied her standing just inside the door. He froze when her eyes settled on him. His body, covered in battle scars, was on full display. Her mouth suddenly dried, and she fought to keep her gaze level.

  She had wondered at the size of the tub and now realized he had probably had it specially made to accommodate his long body and broad shoulders. And what shoulders they were. She had always admired broad, strong shoulders in a man. “Are you quite finished, lass?” Robbie said, an edge sharpening his tone just a little.

  Jocelyn nodded quickly and felt her cheeks flush at his sour look. Perhaps he didn’t like her staring at him so brazenly. Perhaps he didn’t appreciate her distinctly unladylike behavior. She fought the urge to hang her head. She refused to be ashamed of herself or her behavior. She had, after all, done everything she could to prevent this marriage.

  She raised her chin defiantly and stared him right in the eye. Until her gaze slipped to his full lips. Heaven help her, she was a hussy. Her throat dried as she suddenly remembered the feel of them moving over her own lips.

  He rose and stepped out of the tub, and she took advantage of the opportunity. She let her eyes run slowly down the strong column of his throat, past his shoulders and chest, below his rippled stomach to his cock, which was presently growing slowly. She jerked her gaze back to his, afraid she had offended him with her frank and open perusal. “The feast should be starting soon, my laird,” she blurted out.

  “Aye,” he said. “Elizabeth was here, shaking out one of your gowns. Is that the one you want to wear?”

  She nodded, glancing quickly down at his cock again. It had grown even more. “I did not have the time to get you a lady’s maid,” he continued. “Should I have Elizabeth attend to you?”

  “No, my laird,” she replied, fixing her eyes back on his. “I can do it myself. Indeed, I did not have a lady’s maid back home.”

  Robbie took one halting step closer to her before freezing in place. “This is your home now, Jocelyn, and I am your husband. I would have you call me by my name.”

  “Of course, Robbie,” she breathed, her body burning and becoming ready for him.

  Robbie groaned low in his throat and advanced on her quickly. He grabbed her by the waist and dropped his lips to hers. “I cannot wait,” he said against her mouth. “I was going to wait until after the feast to consummate our marriage, but it will have to be now.”

  “All right,” she agreed as she tried to find a good place to rest her hands. She settled on his ribs and clutched him tightly.

  He kissed her deeply, moaning in approval when she opened her mouth for him immediately. His tongue dipped in and tangled with hers, thrusting in and out in a rhythm that drove her wild with need. She felt his hands tugging on her laces and let go of him to help. Her dress fell to the ground, and she accepted his help stepping out of it.

  Robbie cupped her face and kissed her again, angling her head to where he wanted it. The kiss seemed to go on for forever and, at the same time, was far too short in duration. His lips left hers, and she whimpered in distress.

  “Easy, lass,” he whispered against her ear, biting at the lobe gently. “I will take care of you.”

  Jocelyn’s body liquefied at the memory of how he’d taken care of her the last time, and she gripped him harder. He reached for her hands and disengaged her nails from his sides before sliding them around his back. She restlessly kneaded the strong muscles she found there. She wanted to do something with her hands but didn’t know what so she settled for scratching them over his skin lightly. He shivered at the soft scrape of her nails and tugged her closer.

  Robbie’s lips wandered down her neck to her collarbone to nibble softly. Her nipples hardened, and her breasts swelled. His hands slid up her ribs to caress the bottom of her breasts teasingly. Slowly, he tra
ced them in progressively tighter circles until his fingers hovered over her nipples.

  “Shall I?” he asked.

  She nodded frantically, baring the side of her neck so he could go back to the delicious little nips he’d been giving her.

  “Say it,” he encouraged. “You know what I like.”

  Jocelyn thrust her breast into his palm and shuddered. “Touch them. My nipples,” she demanded hotly, desperate to have pressure on the aching points.

  He chuckled darkly and bent his head to suck strongly at the side of her neck. His fingers covered her nipples and pinched lightly, sending chills up her spine. She could feel the wetness weeping from her core and her small clit swell. She rubbed her thighs together to try and provide the friction she so desperately needed.

  “Stop,” he ordered. “When we are together, I will see to your pleasure.” She gulped and stared at him, silently willing him to continue touching her. “Say ‘yes, Robbie’,” he demanded.

  “Yes, Robbie,” she echoed breathlessly.

  “Good girl,” he praised and pinched her nipples harder. The small bite of pain only served to intensify the pleasure racing through her body, and she whimpered.

  Unable to help herself, her hips began to swivel, and she nearly cried when he stopped what he was doing. “Do I have to tie you down?” he questioned.

  Shaking her head quickly, she scraped her nails over the small of his back again, delighting in the shudders that rippled through his body. He obviously wasn’t as unaffected as he seemed. Returning his lips to her body, he sucked the flesh at the top of one breast into his mouth. He blew his warm breath over the damp spot and looked at the mark he’d left there.

  Robbie straightened and lifted her hands over her head, guiding her to grip the bedpost. The action made her back arch, thrusting her breasts out. He placed his hand low on her belly and pressed her ass into the post. “Do not move,” he ordered before dropping his head to tongue her right breast.