“For what I just did. For kissing you and…and…” She couldn’t say it—it was too dreadful. She lowered her voice. “’Twas most ungodly.”
He laughed—a short, hard sound. “God is in all creation, Caitlin. Surely if He didn’t want us making love, He wouldnae have made it so pleasurable.” Darach’s face turned bleak. “And ’twas my fault, not yours. I took advantage of you.”
“You did?”
“Aye.”
She didn’t understand. She was the one who’d trapped him with her legs, climbed on top of him like the monkeys her father had told her about. A confused frown creased her brow. “I didn’t hurt you?”
He dropped his head into the crook of her neck. His breath puffed against her skin as if he laughed, maybe sighed.
When he raised his head, he tilted her face up with his fingers. “You didn’t hurt me. ’Tis what happens when a man makes love to a woman. Until he finds release, ’tis…uncomfortable.”
Her dismay must have shown on her face, for he shook his head and said, “God help me, I’m making it worse.”
He gripped her waist and tried to lift her, but her legs were trapped by her heavy skirts and the arms of the chair.
“Raise your arisaid, then your feet,” he said. “I’ll pull you free.”
When they were untangled, he rose, placed her back in the chair, and moved toward the hearth. After a moment, he turned to her. She noticed his plaid bulged in front where his privates were located. He caught her staring and shifted his leather sporran over himself.
“I knew I hurt you with my indecent rubbing. Is that why it’s swollen?” She couldn’t take her eyes from it.
He rested his forehead against the mantel, rubbing the back of his neck. “Lord have mercy, I have ne’er met a lass so innocent. Do you know naught of intimate congress?”
Her mouth snapped shut. She’d seen animals in the act, aye, but always from a distance. When she’d asked her mother about it, she’d been told a man’s parts fit into a woman’s parts like a broomstick into a bucket. She’d said naught of the broomstick breaking.
“So…’tis not broken?”
“Nay.” He looked over his shoulder toward the door and mumbled something under his breath about Edina. She thought he was going to leave, but instead he moved stiffly to the other chair and sat down. Color came and went in his cheeks. “Caitlin, what we did, the way we touched each other and how our bodies reacted, mine as well as yours, is all part of lovemaking. If we’d been married, I’d have…finished the act.”
She scrunched her brow. “You mean, put your broomstick into my bucket?” She didn’t think that had happened, but it would be good to know if she were still a maid.
He half laughed, half coughed at her question and nodded his head. “Aye, that’s what I mean. Who told you that?”
“My mother.” Caitlin had been about fourteen. She’d asked other questions too, but Claire had said she’d tell Caitlin when the time was right. That time had never come.
“What else did she say? Did she tell you that if we’d finished, we could have made a bairn?”
Caitlin rolled her eyes. “I know where bairns come from, Darach. I’m not a lass of five.”
“Well, you’re not a lass of nearly twenty, either.”
She gasped at his jab, and he groaned. “I’m sorry. I just meant you’re verra innocent for a woman your age. I ne’er should have touched you. When I think what could have happened…”
She leaned toward him. “Tell me.”
Startled eyes met hers. She watched, fascinated, as his pupils dilated. He sat back as far as he could and cleared his throat. “Go…to…bed.”
“But how will I e’er—”
“Now!”
He’d yelled at her—for no good reason. And just after she’d told Heather and Rose their laird would never raise his voice.
She stood with a disdainful sniff and tossed her hair. “Maybe I’ll ask Lachlan.”
At his outraged look, she marched toward the stairs. At the bottom, she hesitated. She didn’t want to ruin her grand exit, but she knew if she didn’t ask the question, it would bother her all night. And it’s not like she could ask Edina and admit to such shameful conduct.
She turned back to him. “Darach?”
“Aye.” He sounded at his wit’s end.
“You doona think… That is to say…I’m not possessed, am I? By a succubus or something? It’s just…to behave so wantonly.”
The air exploded from his lungs with an exasperated bellow. “For the love of all that’s holy…no!”
She took the stairs two at a time and was almost at the top when he yelled, “And bar your bloody door!”
Ten
“Good morning, Caitlin. You slept late.”
Caitlin jumped as Edina appeared from behind her, and she almost tumbled down the stairs she’d been quietly descending to the second floor.
Her words came out quickly, sounding guilty even to her own ears. “Aye, I waited up to tell Darach that Fergus had moved into the keep. I didn’t want him to worry lest he went to the kitchen and found the lad gone.”
“That was thoughtful of you.”
Edina passed her with a basketful of laundry and Caitlin fell into step behind her. They crossed the great hall and exited into the bailey.
It was well past midmorning, yet the yard was unusually quiet, with only a few people milling about. She blinked in the bright sunlight. “Where is everyone?”
“Darach and Oslow took a number of men on patrol and many of the rest have been deployed in preparation for the conflict. We still have a strong guard at the castle and in the village, of course. Laird MacKenzie would ne’er let any harm come to you or any of the others.”
Caitlin stopped, her jaw dropping as Edina hurried down the outside stairs.
“They’ve gone?”
“Aye, early this morning.”
When she reached the grass, Edina entered another door at the base of the stairs that led to the keep’s supply room and disappeared inside.
Feeling a good cry coming on, Caitlin flopped down on the top step and put her head on her knees. How could Darach be gone? She needed to see him, speak to him…to touch him. She needed reassurance about last night.
Uncaring man.
But the tears wouldn’t come. How long would he be gone? Would he even miss her? She jumped up and raced down the stairs, following Edina into the supply room. The housekeeper was in the corner, counting bags of oats. A lit candle burned in a sconce on the wall.
Caitlin hurried over. “When will they be back?”
“Oslow thought maybe a week.”
“Are they in danger?”
“I doona think so. The Frasers are a tricky bunch but not as well prepared as our laird. He’s been planning this conflict for years.”
“But it isna the big one, right? He would have said goodbye to me before he went to war.”
“Aye, Caitlin. Doona fash.”
As Edina moved through the storeroom making notes, Caitlin hovered behind her, feeling lost and scared, having a hard time catching a full breath. Even if the clan weren’t going to battle, Darach could still fall from his horse or tumble off a cliff. What if he banged his head and didn’t remember her? She was proof it could happen.
Well, not really, but Oslow had said it sometimes happened.
And it was harder to contain the fear that rose over Fraser and her uncle finding her knowing that Darach was gone. What if they somehow got past the castle walls and spirited her away before he returned?
What if she never saw him again?
The pain that ripped through her at that thought pushed any fear for herself away. She leaned back against a bag of grain before she fell down and tried to calm her racing heart, to take deep breaths and loosen the stricture in her throat, the twisting in her gut
s.
The idea of going to France to find her mother’s family now seemed like torture. She wouldn’t get any farther than the village before she turned Cloud around and raced back to Darach.
“Did you see them off this morning?” she asked, her voice sounding weak.
“Aye. ’Twas not long after sunup.”
“So they’d planned it ahead of time.” He could have told her yesterday. He’d had plenty of time.
“I knew Oslow was going, but I didn’t know Darach intended to go as well. Maybe ’twas something he and Laird MacKay decided at the last minute.”
He’d taken Lachlan too, and most likely Gare and Brody.
Edina placed a bag of oats in her hands. “Quit pouting and make yourself useful.”
“I’m not pouting.”
“Aye, you are. He’ll be back before you know it.”
“’Tis just…well…” She shifted fretfully on her feet. “Did he say anything about me before he left?”
“Caitlin, ’twas verra busy. I did not stop to chat with the laird. I barely had time to say goodbye to my husband.” She headed for the door carrying a second bag of oats.
Caitlin followed. “You’re right, of course. ’Tis selfish of me. I’m sorry.”
When they reached the stairs, Edina placed the bag down and took a seat. She patted the step next to her. “Come sit down and tell me what’s bothering you.”
Caitlin plopped down on the stair. She sniffed. “He didn’t say goodbye.”
“You’ll see him soon enough. You can spend your time riding Cloud and teaching the dogs new tricks.”
She shook her head. “I need to see him now. I have…questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
Heat rushed up Caitlin’s cheeks. Edina would surely think she was wicked if she knew about last night. “Oh, ’tis naught. Just…questions.”
Edina harrumphed and took her hands. “You will tell me everything, Caitlin. Especially if this has aught to do with Darach MacKenzie kissing you.”
Her heart sped up. How had Edina known? Caitlin was certain no one had seen them. “We did no such thing, I swear. Well, maybe a wee bit. But not what you think.”
“And just what am I thinking?”
“That he, you know, put his broomstick in my bucket.”
Edina raised a brow but said naught.
The pressure on Caitlin to say more increased. “We just kissed…a lot…and, um, rubbed. Then he put his hand under my chemise and touched…you know.”
“Nay, I doona know. Where exactly did he touch you?”
Caitlin could barely get the words out she was so mortified. “My breast.”
“And that’s all? Not between your legs?”
The idea horrified her. “Nay! I swear. I would ne’er let that happen.”
“Aye, you will, but you must promise me not till you’re married. ’Tis verra important you stay a maid, do you understand?”
Caitlin nodded. She could scarce meet Edina’s eyes. Her stomach twisted so tightly she thought it would never loosen. “Were you a maid when you married Oslow?”
Edina hesitated. “I was a maid when I met Oslow, aye. I ran away from the Fraser keep to ensure I remained a maid. Your virginity is a wonderful gift to be given only to your husband on your wedding night.” She lifted Caitlin’s chin. “Can you make me that promise?”
Caitlin repressed a shudder lest she give too much away. She would never give her husband her virginity. If it was impossible to marry Darach, she would remain a maid forever.
Her heart clenched at the thought. She would never know what it was like to “finish the act” or sleep in his arms. She would never have a child or a proper home.
The futility of her situation sank deep. Why must she remain a maid? Surely Darach wouldn’t do anything to hurt her. Or put her in danger. It was most unfair that men could take a lover but women could not.
“I doona like the look in your eye,” Edina said. “You must promise me you willna let Darach bed you until you’re married. The first time you make love should be special. It signifies the joining of two people and seals the wedding vows.”
“What do you mean, seals the wedding vows?”
“Intimate congress validates the legal and spiritual union a man and woman make when they marry.”
Caitlin stilled. The words echoed in her head. “So if a wedding takes place, but the husband and wife doona make love?”
“It can be annulled.”
Her heart beat so fast she couldn’t catch her breath.
Edina’s brow puckered with worry, and she placed a hand on Caitlin’s neck. “Put your head down, lass, and take deep breaths. That wouldnae be a problem, believe me. If our laird married you, he wouldnae forsake his wedding night.”
She could still have the life she wanted—married to Darach, sleeping in his bed, nursing his children. She’d never worry him again or cause trouble. And they could “finish the act” again and again.
He’d asked her to stand beside him and fight the Frasers, and she would—despite her fear of capture, of being locked up and controlled again. Or worse.
He said he would keep her safe.
“Do you think Laird MacKenzie would be happy with me?” she asked.
“Happier than he’s e’er been.”
“Even though he says he ne’er wants to marry?”
“Aye, lass. Men doona always know what’s best for them.”
Well, maybe she just had to show Darach that she was best for him. Caitlin smiled as the sun moved from behind a cloud and filled the bailey with light. She could marry Darach. She would marry Darach. As soon as she’d fixed her wee problem.
“We’ll need a priest,” she said.
Edina gave her an assessing look, then nodded. “He’s on his way. Oslow told me Father Lundie is at some of the outlying farms and should arrive in a day or two. He gives mass in the village when he’s here.”
“That’s good, but I doona understand why there isna a chapel at the castle.”
“It hasn’t been a priority. Our laird’s been busy preparing for battle. ’Twould be nice to have a holy man living here. Too many MacKenzies have missed last rites because the priest didn’t arrive in time, and Father Lundie is getting old. ’Tis hard for him to travel from place to place.”
Surely Darach would like a chapel in his yard. Maybe between the barracks and the keep. Or farther down, by the stable.
“Is the father a good man?” she asked.
“Aye, and a good priest—always concerned for the people, and he doesn’t judge harshly.”
It sounded like he would be an asset to the clan. Poor Darach just had too much to do and no one to help him. Wouldn’t it be nice if someone else took on the responsibility? Shouldered some of the weight?
Caitlin jumped to her feet, her earlier despair forgotten. She had a new purpose, a new plan. “I look forward to meeting Father Lundie. I have so many questions for him and innumerable sins to confess.”
“Innumerable?”
“Aye. Do you think he’ll approve of the union?”
“I think he’ll be more than happy to marry you to our laird.”
She spun in a happy circle. It was wonderful to be able to hope again. To dream. “I pray ’tis so, for I would like naught better than to be Darach’s lady.”
* * *
Darach refused to marry the lass, no matter how badly he wanted to tup her. Which meant he couldn’t tup her. Which meant he couldn’t eat or sleep or think of anything else but tupping her.
This was exactly why he’d decided not to marry or have bairns in the first place. Women were a distraction. Nay, not all women. Caitlin was a distraction. When he should be concentrated on protecting his clan and defeating their enemies, she tugged him around by the heart and the cock in the sa
me manner as Moire. He was the biggest kind of fool.
A low-hanging branch clipped his head, and he cursed his own stupidity. He wasn’t fit to lead. This was the MacKenzies’ greatest hour of need and their laird couldn’t even walk through the forest without banging into a tree.
With a disgusted sigh, he lowered himself onto a boulder and rubbed his brow. The ache in his head didn’t even begin to drown out the ache in his groin. If he’d thought his need was bad before he’d touched Caitlin, now it consumed him. And it didn’t matter how many times he swam in the icy loch—the need came back.
He dropped his head to his hands only to be assailed with images of her as they’d kissed last night: bright eyes, swollen lips, flushed cheeks. And the way she’d felt… God almighty, he’d never touched anything so soft. The worst of it was she’d wanted him too. She’d moved against him as he had her. Both of them seeking the other.
“You look like hell,” Lachlan said.
He didn’t glance up. “Go away.”
“Why put yourself through this anguish? Marry the lass and be done with it. You can go back right now, handfast her, and take her to bed. Tonight. Tup her till you canna move, then focus on the job at hand—defeating the Frasers. Kill the man who betrayed your clan, killed your father, and abused your wife. You know you want to. You’re just too stubborn to change your mind.”
Darach tried to ignore Lachlan, but his heart had picked up and his ears were straining to catch every word. Everything within him wanted to grab on to the idea and run with it. Straight back to Caitlin.
“She’s going to leave. She doesn’t think I can keep her safe. What kind of wife doesn’t trust her husband?”
“The frightened kind. She’s running around like a headless chicken with her so-called plan. Take her in hand, Darach. She needs you.”
He snorted derisively and rubbed his head. “She needs a man who doesn’t run into branches.”
“You’ll ne’er be the man you were before you met her. ’Tis impossible. She’s wormed her way under your skin and will ne’er get out. Even if she left, you’d be thinking of her, worrying about her. At least if she’s in your home, your bed, you’ll know she’s safe and happy. And you willna have to walk around half-cocked every moment of the day.”
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