by Riley Moreno
‘Go inside, my lady,’ Lainie instructed, afraid it might not be a friendly horseman.
‘What if it is Brice?’ Marion argued.
‘Then you can come out the moment you know it is him. But please, do not take a chance. Go inside.’
Marion rushed indoors and positioned herself by a window set high in the wall, standing on tiptoe to look out.
She saw the horseman come closer and then nearer still. ‘Wallace! Wallace!’ Lainie whooped, running out into the path of the horse, so that it stopped short and almost threw off its rider.
Wallace leaped off and ran to her, sweeping her up into his arms and swinging her about joyfully.
They were still talking as Lainie led Wallace indoors. ‘And then the peasant army flooded into the castle and yes, Brice has been given charge of Bothwell Castle and the Murray lands and his father and mother have gone to live in England with William. Robert has called for the dissolution of his marriage to Lady Marion, and laird Brice has a paper which states that the marriage is annulled.’
Marion, who had been standing there listening to them talking, spoke up. ‘And where is Brice?’
Wallace turned to her, hastily apologizing. ‘He is well, my lady, and has sent me here to take you back to him.’
‘Why didn’t he come himself? He said he would,’ Marion said, seized by a wave of consternation.
Wallace looked sheepish. ‘My lady, he told me to apologize on his behalf, and to explain to you that a laird cannot leave his lands and castle for any length of time – particularly in the wake of recent events. He begs your understanding and says he is waiting for you eagerly and that he cannot wait too long to make you wholly his.’
‘When do we leave?’ Marion asked.
‘Tomorrow – at first light. Lainie will come with us.’
Marion could not shake the feeling of unease that grew more acute as the hour of their departure for Bothwell Castle drew nigh. She tossed through the night and was awake and alert before she heard Wallace and Lainie stirring. Something was amiss.
They left hurriedly, Wallace insisting that Marion not take any of her personal effects. It would slow them down, he said. She suppressed a shiver and looked at Lainie for reassurance, but got none. Lainie had been quiet since Wallace returned, and seemed concerned about something.
They weren’t far from Bothwell Castle when Robert rode out to them, pulling Marion violently down from her horse and bringing her to her knees.
‘You lying, deceptive hussy!’ He shouted.
Marion looked beseechingly up at Wallace, but his mouth was set in a firm hard line.
‘Sorry my lady,’ Lainie sobbed, ‘The laird Robert said he would see me dead if Wallace did not bring you to him.’
‘Brice is now laird of Bothwell and he will see that justice is done,’ Marion said through clenched teeth, but Robert struck her first and then roared with laughter.
‘So you believed the story that Wallace told you? That my father and Mother have gone to England to live with William?’
‘Is it not true?’ Marion ventured.
Robert roared with laughter again. ‘No! Brice thought he could go against my father, but he was no match for him. I paid the peasant army well to deceive Brice the do-gooder. And now he is paying for his mistake.
‘What have you done to him?’ Marion cried.
‘I could tell you he was dead, because he soon will be. He is being dealt with like the criminal that he is – in a dungeon crawling with vermin.’
Marion began to sob uncontrollably. ‘What is to be my lot?’
‘I could throw you in the dungeon with Brice, but that would not suit my purpose – to have you two lovers together in death. Oh no! You see, my father has now stopped me from going to France and I owe that change of mind to you. I intend taking every bit of revenge on you for so destroying my life.’
‘It was you who destroyed my life!’ Marion exclaimed, aggrieved.
‘You had no life. I gave you a good alternative and you did not want it. Well, you will now see the vengeance of Robert Murray and how painful it can be.’
Robert turned his horse about. ‘Get the woman onto her horse Wallace, and bring her into the castle.’
Lainie, who had been singularly quiet all this while suddenly let out a cry and brought a sword crashing down on Robert’s head, unhorsing and wounding him enough for her and Wallace to turn their horses about and flee with Marion.
‘I cannot trust you both. Where are you taking me?’
‘We are taking you to your home – to your parents.’
‘To England?’ Marion asked, alarmed. ‘How can I go back? My family will never accept me.’
‘It is either that or to return to Bothwell and face the wrath of Robert. We have arranged for a coach to take you.’
‘What about you and Lainie?’ Marion asked Wallace.
‘We have work to do. We must get back to the peasant army and see if we cannot muster them again.’
CHAPTER VII
Marion sat by the fireplace with her mama.
‘I’m sorry child,’ Lady Buchane said, ‘We did not think of your wellbeing at all when we promised you to Robert Murray.’
Marion said nothing. The rigors of a coach journey to her home in London had weakened her both physically and mentally. She felt like she had betrayed Brice by not going back and attempting to rescue him and all she wanted was to end her life.
‘You gave me to him to pay off a debt,’ Marion said flatly and Lady Buchane exclaimed. ‘How can you say such a thing Marion?’
‘Because it is true. Robert told me and so did Brice.’ She began to weep. ‘And now what is to become of me?’
‘Nobody here in London knows what transpired in Scotland, so your secret is safe. You can marry again.’
‘Am I not married to Robert?’
‘The marriage will automatically be annulled after a certain period of being apart from him,’ Lady Buchane said, attempting to mollify her daughter. ‘So you have a chance to begin your life again.
Marion looked sadly at the fire, remembering an evening when she had indulged in that simple pastime with Brice. ‘I have been promised time and again that I am to be free of my ties to Robert…but it seems like I never will be. And now the only man I ever loved lies in a dungeon and is probably close to death. If he dies, so will I.’
Lady Buchane shifted uncomfortably. ‘You must not speak like that. There will be other men – you are young yet.’
‘There will not be anyone else…not for me.’
It was a spring morning some months later when Marion was looking out of her window, lost in thought. She had grown more silent and nothing that her mama or papa did could bring her out of herself. She seemed locked in a very dark world which nobody could penetrate. Lady Buchane coaxed morsels of food down her unwilling throat, watched her while she slept and encouraged her to make new acquaintances, but prospective suitors were deterred by Marion’s reticence, and soon tongues began to wag and speculations about her state of mind ran riot.
Marion could see the street from her bedroom window and always imagined Brice walking towards their house one day. That morning she saw a sight that was incongruous on a street in London – a man in a kilt. And he was riding a familiar looking horse. Marion’s pulse began to race. She recognized the gait and the untamed mass of dark hair as the man sprang off the horse and walked the last few feet of the way to the Buchane home. People on the street turned to look at the man who walked with such resolve towards the house where the pale faced young girl often stood by her window watching the passersby. Women cast more than a passing glance at him – struck by his good looks.
Marion ran down the steps and to the front door, even as she heard the frenzied rap of the knocker. She pushed past the maid and opened the door herself, crying and laughing all at the same time, as Brice swept her up into his arms. Lady Buchane came running down the steps, fetched hastily by the maid, and had to avert her gaze as Brice an
d Marion threw caution and restraint to the winds and embraced each other with fervor.
‘The nightmare is over,’ Brice said, finally releasing Marion’s lips.
‘It is! You are here!’
‘And you can be mine now. For always.’
‘Do you live here now?’
‘No,’ Brice answered, ‘The laird of Bothwell Castle lives in Scotland and so does his lady.’
‘The laird of Bothwell Castle?’
‘Yes,’ Brice answered, ‘And that’s why I sent Wallace to bring you back to me.’ Brice stroked her cheek. ‘When you failed to come, I realized there must be something wrong.’
‘Robert accosted me when I was almost at Bothwell, and told me you were in a dungeon and that all I had been told about your win against your father was a lie!’
‘I trusted Wallace, little knowing he was on Robert’s side.’
‘Lainie was an unwilling participant in that whole charade,’ Marion replied. ‘Oh Brice, am I dreaming? Will I wake up and find you not here?’
He kissed her again. ‘Now tell me if that felt real.’
Marion laughed, and lady Buchane’s heart lifted at the sound of her daughter’s mirth – a sound she hadn’t heard for so long.
‘How did you leave Bothwell and come here?’ Marion asked.
‘Because I had to find you myself. I couldn’t trust that job to anyone else.’
‘And what if Bothwell has been retaken by Robert…or your father while you are gone?’
‘They are both far away. Robert is in France where his heart has always been and my father is here in England with William. And I am here only to turn around and return to Scotland – but not without you.’
‘She shall wear the gown I wore for my wedding,’ Lady Buchane said, coming out of the shadows where she had retreated to listen to them from a discreet distance.
CHAPTER VIII
There was a sense of urgency during the nuptials – a desire for the ceremony to be done with and for their life together to begin. Brice and Marion endured the rituals that took place before select members of Marion’s family, before they began the long journey back to Scotland.
They spent their first night together in the lavish room that Brice had had prepared for his bride, surrounded by exquisite drapes and tapestries, and carefully chosen furnishings. For Marion however, there was nothing in the room besides Brice, and once the sparks of nervous tension were stilled, Marion could react to the rapid pounding of her heart. Their union was like the moment when the sun kisses the moors – when the heather trembles beneath the morning breeze, blissfully warmed by the first of the sun’s rays, and then begins to dance as a cloud rapturously drenches the hillsides; It was like a golden eagle winging up towards the heavens and then swooping down again, spiraling in an ecstatic dance with nature. Marion was swept up in Brice’s eyes, his lips, the glorious play of his fingertips on her burning skin; his rough jaw on her breast, his tongue creating ripples of desire as it took her body to new heights of ecstatic fulfillment. As her gown fell away in a swirl of lace, and her garments were eased from her body, Marion fell into Brice, in the most perfect of all unions; their bodies now entwined, now apart, now cleaving to each other again, now rising towards a climax and then floating…gently floating…like a sun warmed leaf from a tree shuddering beneath the onslaught of the most violent, yet the sweetest of storms. And so they lay, clasped to each other, and life was new again.
Xxx
Desired by the
Alpha Tiger
Paranormal Shifter Romance
By: Riley Moreno
Chapter One
Homeless Lucy
You’d think working with animals would be pretty cool, right? You’d be wrong. I’ve been working with animals nearly all my life and let me tell you they can be just as much of a jackass as that next door neighbor of yours who starts blasting loud music on the dot of midnight when you’ve just found that comfy spot in bed.
I’m Lucy by the way. Lucy Priestly. I work as a receptionist at the Waterville vet clinic and the most exciting part of my day is deciding what to have for lunch and that just isn’t enough motivation for me to get out of bed.
The alarm is blaring again and I feel my toes nudging the rest of my foot out of bed, inch by inch no matter how strongly I command it to stay put because we’re staying in bed today, damn it!
Foot on the floor.
Betrayed by my own body.
I’m shorter than the average person which means I meet people crotch first. It can be disconcerting meeting people when they have their junk sticking in your face. As it is I have to stand on a stool to be able to look in my bathroom mirror.
I’m not very pretty. The most striking thing about me is my bright blue hair; but that’s an artificial contrivance; it’s the only thing I’m vain about. The rest is average Joe. I have light brown eyes with just a smidge of green but it’s barely visible behind my glasses. My sharp chin gets a tiny dimple when I smile. My pug nose is my worst feature and it doesn’t help that it’s scattered with freckles.
I’m brushing my teeth when someone tries to breakdown my door.
It’s jackass from next door.
“You need to get out,” he says. He’s tall, lanky and his face is obscured by a beard. I’ve never seen him up so early in my life. He probably never went to bed. “New tenant coming in.”
Did I mention he’s also my landlord?
“I paid this months’ rent,” I protest.
“Yeah,” he says as if he’s just remembered, pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and hands it to me. “There. Now, you have a week to find someplace new.”
“Are you throwing me out?” I’m really mad now. This doesn’t seem to be some crazy, weed fueled high; he’s serious. “This is ridiculous!”
“I have a new tenant coming in,” he repeats.
“I got that but you can’t give them my place, I paid rent on it,” I say thrusting the money back at him. “You can’t just kick me out. We had an agreement.”
“Dude she’s my cousin,” he whines, “And my dad says she’s supposed to live here now. Do me a solid, come on.”
“Do you a solid?” I screech. “Why should I do you a solid? You’re evicting me, you asshole!”
“Hey don’t get screechy now,” he says backing away a few steps. He’s holding his hands up as if I were dangerous. The guy’s over six feet. I’m a Chihuahua compared to him. “It’s not my fault. My dad’s making me do it.”
“Fuck you, and your dad,” I shout and slam the door in his face.
“Does this mean you’ll leave?” his voice is muffled through the door. “Or do I have to call the cops.”
Great! Regular bad day just turned in to super bad day. Now I have to find listings for apartments in this scenic hell hole. I’m too angry to make myself breakfast. Plus I’m sure I’ll try to burn the place down, the state that I’m in. I head to work, ignoring the sorry note taped to the front door. Landlord boy can shove that up his ass for all I care.
I didn’t always live in Waterville; I’m a Detroit girl who got quite sick of the concrete and wanted a better life. I didn’t think it would be this boring though. My parents are happy I made it out. They Skype chat with me every Friday night.
Yup, every Friday night.
We sometimes have Skype dinner dates!
For the hundredth time I wonder what on earth am I doing here. I could have up and left a long time ago but I’m lazy and I love the lobster roll at Curley’s. I first came to Waterville chasing a boy. He was handsome, your classic American handsome, blonde hair, blue eyes, the works. After three months of dating he dumped me to join the troops and flew off to Iraq.
I later found out that he was gay.
I didn’t know whether to be happy or sad about that. We never hooked up in the three months we dated and I get now that it was because he was gay but was he repulsed because he was gay or because I was simply repulsive.
Blackpaw’s car i
s already parked outside. I like her. For a big woman she is light on her feet and that hair! Caramel woven in a strawberry blonde sundae. I know it sounds creepy bordering on lesbian but that woman has fly hair.
“You’re late,” Sonya Blackpaw is feeding pureed peaches to her eight month son. He’s got disconcerting green eyes. They’re the color of a jungle cats. “Better not let the boss find out.”
“I just got eviction notice by my landlord,” I tried not to whine but I whined a little. “So Brennen could cut some slack, you think?”
“He’s too much of an asshole to do that,” Sonya says, wiping peaches off of her son’s chin. I always forget his name: Toby, Tobias? “Isn’t he Forrest?”
Forrest, right.
“Why did you get evicted?” Sonya asks. She crinkles her nose every time she asks a question. “Did you need help with rent? You should have asked me! Maybe we can pay now and get you your house back.”
“I paid rent,” I’m offended by how irresponsible she thinks I am. “The landlord wants to give the apartment to some cousin of his so he’s throwing me out with only a weeks’ notice.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” she asked.
“Would it matter in the short term?”
“You could get a stay order and keep the house while you look for another place,” she piled too much peach sludge on the spoon because she was concentrating on my problem. “It will allow you about a month to look since you’ve already paid this months’ rent.”
“I’m not overly attached to that place to fight so hard for it,” Forrest’s mouth is a peach stain. “Aren’t there any listings where you live?”
“Shifter Grove?” she looks alarmed. “I don’t think you’d like the neighborhood. It’s all woods and cabins; the animals will keep you up at night.”
“I love animals,” I lie. “Please, you’ve got to help me find a place.”
“I’ll talk to Diesel,” she is the picture of reluctance and it’s pissing me off a little. “I think he’d know more than I do.”