by Reece Butler
“Not bloody likely,” replied Cormac. “We be MacDougals, aye?”
“If it is, I expect you to put a son or two in her belly right after.” The earl leaned back, considering him over the wine. “Your father had, what, two pairs of twin sons?”
“Three,” said James. “Plus another ten sons.”
“Sixteen sons.” The earl looked at her husbands more fondly. “’Tis good odds every babe will be a lad. You’ll have at least six.”
Cormac bowed deeply. “We’ll do our best, Yer Excellency.” He looked toward the table and rubbed his stomach. “’Twould be best if I had a bit of meat to keep up my strength, and perhaps a wee dram? My willie is nay wee, ye ken.” He winked.
The earl’s laugh startled Alana, and many of those around her. The nightmare was over. She was safe. Her husbands were safe. She braced her knees and back to keep from collapsing.
“Zounds, lad,” bellowed the earl, “are you still hungry?”
Cormac patted Alana’s behind, openly cupping it possessively. “Yer daughter is a demandin’ woman, my lord.”
“Is that why she has two husbands?” asked the earl in a far quieter voice.
James cursed his brother. They knew Cormac would never be a sweet-voiced courtier. He was a blunt warrior, good-natured most of the time, but when he wanted to speak, he did not mince words.
“You kenned the ways of the MacDougals afore fostering us, Your Excellency,” said James. He looked the powerful, vicious man in the eyes. “What William did to Alana terrified her. She still has nightmares, and canna enter rooms without windows unless the door remains open. Even then, she will try to hide her trembling. With two of us, she will always be protected.”
The storm suddenly unleashed its power, rain smashing against the windows.
“Alana married us both,” said Cormac, speaking loudly to be heard over the storm. “MacKenzie’s priest married us after Laird Munro witnessed Alana handfasting with James. If one of us dies the other will be there for her.”
“Without need of a new dowry,” added James.
“Ah yes, Alana’s missing dowry,” said Sinclair.
“Aye.” Cormac curled his lip. “Laird Fraser made it clear there was none. We married yer daughter as we wished to have Alana, not yer gold.”
Sinclair leaned back in his chair, tugging on his beard again. “Laird Fraser was mistaken. Alana has her dowry still.” He lifted his cup to Cormac. “Which means you are now Master of Keiss Castle.”
“We may live there?”
Alana had blurted the words. She blushed at speaking so bluntly to her father. Though her aunts had caused her trouble, she’d loved Keiss. It was small, four stories plus an attic but with only one room per floor, plus the tower. The walls were barely three feet thick, so it was not easily defended. She didn’t care. It would be so much more a home compared to Girnigoe.
“Aye.” The earl sipped his wine until the murmurs died down. “If, that is, your husbands will kneel to me.” He looked them over, from worn boots to tattered plaids pinned without jewels. “For all that you married my daughter you are not kin. How can I trust that you have what’s best for Caithness in mind?”
Cormac twitched. Alana held her breath at what he might say.
“And William does?”
Chapter Five
The earl rose to his feet at Cormac’s surly question. James muttered a curse at his older brother’s big mouth. He slammed his elbow into his gut, making him grunt.
“Follow my lead if you wish to live in peace,” he whispered. “Bow with respect. We are his allies nay his vassals, yet are at his mercy.”
He went to one knee, then yanked on his brother’s plaid. They bowed low, then lifted their heads, still kneeling. He’d not forgotten the courier’s skills he learned at this man’s table. The earl wished to seem taller, grander, and wiser than all before him, whether true or not.
“Your Excellency, Cormac and James MacDougal kneel to the Earl of Caithness in respect and obedience, as we have in the past,” said James formally. “Your Excellency took us in as half-starved, gangly lads. You fed, clothed, educated, and trained us. For that we are forever in your debt.” He bowed his head again. Cormac followed, slightly behind. A slight nod from the earl showed his acceptance.
“We have given our oath to Somerled MacDougal of Duncladach, our laird brother. Marriage to Lady Alana Sinclair doesna alter our allegiance.”
James waited for the low growl of disapproval to fade.
“Though you gave no permission for our marriage to your daughter, we wish to be as your kin. We have no goods to offer. We do have knowledge and strength”—he let a hint of humor show—“and a strong family history of breeding warriors.”
Soft chuckles and murmurs ghosted around the back of the hall.
“We offer our obedience to you, and Clan Sinclair, and will be bound by your words whilst on your lands.”
Cormac nudged him in the ribs. “Except if he wishes to help the damn Campbells,” he said in a loud whisper.
“Ah, aye.” James cleared his throat. “Your Excellency, in good faith we must tell you we canna support the Campbells. However, if you wish to bring those adders into your home we willna kill them.”
“Without yer lairdship’s permission,” added Cormac. “And if ye give us Keiss Castle we respectfully ask they dinna be sent there. I might be forced to separate their heads from their shoulders as I canna trust them with my wife and bairns.”
“I’ll have my wee dirk with me, husband,” reminded Alana.
Cormac looked at their woman. His black eyebrows made one dark line above his eyes. “Nay, wife. I said ye willna wear a dirk. I am yer husband, and I’ll protect ye.”
“We’ll discuss this later,” she said, nose high.
“Aye, with ye lying o’er my lap with yer skirts up while my hand shows yer bare arse who’s the mon in this marriage!”
“Cormac MacDougal!” Face red, she slammed him in the chest with her hand. “Dinna speak of such things!”
Though still kneeling, he held her hand tight to his chest, keeping her still as he swatted her bottom with his other hand. With all her skirts it did nothing other than show what he planned.
“Best warn yer guards, Yer Excellency,” said Cormac over the laughter. “If they hear screams from our bedchamber ’tis just the lass disagreein’ with her men. She’s takin’ a wee bit of time to accustom herself with marriage. Been too long without a husband, me thinks.”
“Cormac!”
“Did you choose to marry Cormac MacDougal?” asked the earl.
“Aye, Father,” replied Alana. “Though I handfasted with James first.”
“So you accept that you have two husbands?” She nodded, biting her lip. “Then you have two masters to obey. ’Twill be good for my lands at Keiss to have a pair of strong lairds.”
The earl lifted his hands, using the gesture of a bishop. James tensed as the hall went quiet. He thought all would be well but if not, there was nothing he could do about it.
“These men, from a clan on the far western coast, acted against my plans for my daughter.” The earl spoke as if he were King James himself giving a proclamation to the land. “As they have already shown proof they can sire a child I will be lenient and give my blessing to the union. Clan MacDougal is known for their honor, loyalty, and courage. I will count on you, Cormac and James, to serve me well, and give me many grandsons.”
James tugged at Cormac, who followed him in a bow of thanks. When they stood, Cormac’s stomach complained loudly. He curled a lip, rubbing it.
“Pardon, Yer Excellency. My belly remembers yer table with fond affection.”
“Then join me,” said the earl, gesturing for them to come forward. “I would hear of the news from your travels.”
Chapter Six
Alana’s tense stomach made it difficult for her to eat. Cormac was quite friendly with her father, the two of them talking with their heads close together. James joined in on
occasion, but kept his eye on her. She wanted to leave but couldn’t without her father’s permission. She wanted a bed, one that did not rock with the waves. First, she wanted a hot bath. That was not something found on board a ship. She tried to catch their eye, but it didn’t work.
“If you faint, my lady, they’ll have to take you out. And then the rest of us may leave as well.”
She didn’t know the woman beside her. She looked pleasant enough, though terribly nervous.
“I’m afraid I dinna ken who you are.”
“I am Lady Jean Hepburn. I was married to yer brother John, Master of Caithness. My son George is the earl’s heir.”
This poor woman had been forced to live here for six years while her husband was locked in the earl’s dungeon, fed nothing but salted beef with a bit of brackish water. The slow torture forced on John was far worse than a quick death. He must have died in slow agony, yet it would not be murder.
“I am so sorry. Your children must be a comfort.”
“I have not been allowed to see my son but from a distance since shortly after his birth. My wee daughter Agnes and I are watched closely. This daily meal is the only time I am allowed to leave my room.” She smiled wanly. “The servants have been ordered to be sparse with candles and wood.”
“I’m not the only one wishing to leave this place, then?”
“Nay. I fear if the earl notices me he will marry me off to a brute, far away.”
It would be good to have a female of the same station as herself. Jean had birthed two children by her brother. There was no healer at Keiss, so having a widow who knew what to watch for, would be good. Alana put the back of her hand to her forehead and moaned. James whipped his head around. She tried to stand and realized she really did feel faint. James shoved back his stool. She wavered, dizzy. He caught her as her legs gave out. He held her close.
“This is real, not to escape this place?” he asked.
She curled her face into his neck. “I feel as if I’m under siege,” she said. “The sooner we get to Keiss Castle, the better.”
“Your Excellency, Lady Alana is faint. May I carry her to our chamber? These women will see to her while I return with more news.”
The earl waved negligently in their direction. James carried her, followed by more women than she’d expected, out of the hall. They were directed toward the stairs, where a porter met them. James carried her down and into a small hall. She was shown into a chamber with a big bed. A fire had been set some time ago, warming the room.
James set her on the bed. “Big enough for three,” he said in her ear. “And a half,” he added, patting her belly.
“This is my brother’s widow, Lady Jean,” she said, gesturing for the woman to come forward. “I wish her to join us at Keiss, if my lord father will allow it. Her daughter, Agnes, as well.”
“Not George?”
“My son is kept with the men,” said Lady Jean.
“Pack what you have,” said James to her. “If we are allowed to leave, we will do it quickly, before he changes his mind.”
The women departed shortly after James. Lady Jean helped her into bed, refusing to leave until she was settled. After she was gone, Alana rested her eyes as she waited for Cormac and James to return. She quickly slipped into a deep sleep.
* * * *
Cormac yawned as he followed James from the hall. The earl had kept them there, demanding news and stories, far longer than they wished. Only when he was satisfied did he say his son John's widow Lady Jean and wee Agnes could accompany them to Keiss Castle. They learned Jean had been divorced in July, while John was still alive. The earl wanted to send her back to her family on the Borders but he didn’t have a good enough reason to force her out as her mother had been a Sinclair cousin.
“I’d like a wee chat with William afore they toss him back to his father,” said Cormac.
“The earl wouldna like you chatting with your fists on his nephew’s face.”
“Ah, but how would the earl ken who’d made the marks? The guards bounced his head off a few walls as they walked him and his wastrel friends to the dungeon.”
“There is that.”
James pressed against the wall to let a servant pass. Cormac did the same. They both kept their hands near their dirks, not knowing who may attack. He didn’t like the earl’s stronghold. It was too crowded, too narrow, and he hated to admit it when he got lost.
The storm still raged, though from what they remembered of weather patterns it should be gone by late morning. The cart carrying their goods, gifts from the Frasers and MacKenzies, would not leave Wick until it was over. It would catch up with them at Keiss. They had an early morning meeting with the earl to discuss Alana’s dowry. All night he’d called Cormac Laird of Keiss, and James his steward.
Such titles would not stop William Sinclair from reclaiming what he believed was his by right of birth. He was a bully, weak unless surrounded by lackeys. He could be easily stopped if alone but he had the help of broken men. Outlaws, they cared about nothing and no one but revenge and gold. All they needed do was kill him and Alana would be free to remarry. The present bishop wouldn’t support James’s handfasting. The previous one, Bishop Hepburn, had fathered at least thirteen illegitimate children. He’d eventually had ten of them legitimized. It stuck in Cormac’s craw that he and his brothers were forever bastards yet a man supposedly of the cloth waved his hand and wiped away decades of immorality.
No, Alana would not be safe just because William was sent back to Braal. It was only sixteen miles west, a day’s walk with Cormac’s long legs. They knew no one at Keiss. After the thought of being ruled by William he and James would no doubt see friendly faces, but that did not mean there wasn’t a hand holding a dirk, ready to stab.
It was almost time for lairds to call all to harvest the castle’s fields. Most resented having to leave their lands to do so but the ones at Keiss would be curious to learn who would now rule them. No doubt it would shock them when they discovered their laird and steward working beside them in the fields. He looked forward to stretching his muscles with work.
“We have to make Alana think all danger is past once we are at Keiss,” said James. “She fretted, not knowing what the earl would do. Now he’s accepted your marriage she must relax and grow our babe. That means staying inside unless she is with us.”
“She’s not had a home afore. I’m thinkin’ she’ll make Keiss her own before winter sets in. ’Twill be better than this rambling place.”
“From what I remember ’tis naught more than a square with a turnpike stair off one corner and a round tower off the other. Ye canna get lost,” said James.
The dig was a reminder of the times Cormac had enjoyed too much ale and had spent the night in a courtyard rather than trail through the confusing castle to find his bed. Even now, he’d needed an escort to find their allotted chamber. The lump on the bed omitting a slight snore could only be Alana. She sounded as if she’d been sleeping for a while. He smiled to himself. She usually squawked when he woke her, then quickly demanded he pleasure her.
“The lass needs her sleep,” warned James.
“We dinna ken what we’ll find at Keiss. We may have just a pallet on the floor. Best make use of this bed while we can.”
He stripped off his plaid by unbuckling his belt. The shirt came next. James gave in without a murmur, dropping his own clothes. They climbed in, one each side of her. They rocked the mattress, disturbing the lump.
“I’m asleep,” she said.
“Tch, dinna lie to yer laird and masters.”
Cormac slid under the covers. She lay on her side, facing away. His knees went behind hers, his chest against her back. His hard cock, squeezed between the cheeks of her arse, demanded he slide into her heat.
* * * *
Alana had slept well, wakening to the rumble of familiar voices. The equally familiar sounds of belts coming off, plaids dropping, and shirts pulled over heads had her body thrumming. Now that
her worst fears were gone she was eager to be pleasured, though she liked to play games.
“Is that you, Roger?”
Cormac choked. “Roger?”
She looked up at him, pretending surprise at seeing Cormac. “Oh, you were gone so long… There was this very nice guard, and since I thought Father must have tossed you in the dungeon as you’d not returned, Roger was happy to console me.”
He leaned down until his bushy eyebrows were only inches from her forehead. “None will be touchin’ ye but me, and James. The sooner ye get yer wee head around that thought, the better ’twill be for ye.”
“Best listen to him,” said James.
“Or what?” she demanded.
“Or the new laird of Keiss Castle and his steward will take their belts to yer arse,” said Cormac with far too much satisfaction. “We are yer masters, Alana Sinclair of Keiss. Ye will obey us in all things.”
His low growls and threats made her eager to fight back. James reached around and found her clit. She pretended not to notice.
“Our wife needs a reminder her duty is to serve us,” said James.
Cormac threw back the covers, exposing all three of them. She tensed, eager to see what they would demand. Both cocks were hard, the men’s expressions eager.
“Put yer mouth on my cock,” demanded Cormac.
She shook her head. His eyes widened at her refusal, then narrowed in anticipation. He grasped her braid. She had no choice but to move where he directed her. James maneuvered the rest of her body until she knelt between Cormac’s legs, her hands either side of his hips. He caressed her cheek with his knuckles before pressing her head down. She licked his cock’s silky head, inhaling his scent. She used the tip of her tongue on him, barely touching the skin.
“Dinna tease,” he warned.
She flicked her tongue lightly from his balls to his tip. His cock jerked. “Or what?”
“I’m thinkin’ of tyin’ ye to me bed, bare arsed, so I could use ye when’er I wished.”