“The baby lives,” Edana finally said. Duncan exhaled in relief. “You are four months along, Cait, if not more. It is not Douglas’s child. This child was conceived of your husband long before that blackguard stole you away.”
It is not Douglas’s child. It is not Douglas’s child. Cait smiled. It was their child, half-Duncan, half-Cait, just as it should be. She wanted to tell them how happy she was, how pleased, but the only thing that came out of her mouth was, “I’m tired.”
“You must eat,” said Henna. “Do not sleep until you’ve had a good meal. Think of the babe.”
Her eyes closed as she felt Duncan’s arms come around her. She didn’t need food or drink. She just needed him.
* * * * *
Duncan looked down at his wife’s exhausted features. He could feel her body relax into sleep.
“Poor creature,” said Henna. “Poor, poor creature. She’ll never forgive me. She won’t. She shouldn’t!”
“She will,” said Duncan. “She would never blame you. Knowing Cait, she blames herself for all of this.” He brushed her damp hair back from her cheek. “I am the one to blame. This was all my fault.”
“I will stay,” said Edana suddenly. “I will stay some time and help her heal.”
Henna and Duncan exchanged glances. “There is no need, Edana. Henna can tend to her.”
“I mean her mind, not her body. Her mind is unwell. As is yours,” she added, looking at Duncan. “I will stay until I know my daughter is better.”
Duncan frowned. “As you wish.”
“I will not steal her away from you, if that’s what your dark looks are all about. She possesses more power than I suspected, but the life of a priestess is not for her.”
“Power?” Duncan echoed. But looking down at her in his arms, he knew exactly of what she spoke.
Chapter Sixteen
Duncan jerked awake to the sound of Cait’s screams, and gathered her up for the second time that night.
Edana had been right. Cait’s mind was troubled, even though she tried to pretend she was perfectly fine. Little by little, after sleep and healing, she had risen from her bed and gone about her life with an endearingly plucky determination to “forget about that horrible man.” By day she did many of the same things she used to. She roamed the town, tended the gardens, even walked on the beach. But at night, it was clear to Duncan that she still suffered. At night, when she slept, Lord Douglas came to her in her dreams.
“Shh, shh..” he crooned, waiting patiently for her to stop struggling, to realize it was him holding her and not his father. As soon as she did, she curled against him with that familiar relieved sigh.
God, he hated that she hurt.
Edana had left recently, promising to return at high summer for the birth of the babe. He had to admit she had been very wise at healing. She had spent long hours talking and bonding with her daughter. Edana was responsible for the positive changes he saw in Cait, the new confidence and strength of will. He knew Edana was no small part of the reason Cait seemed so calm and adjusted after her ordeal, at least during the day. It was certainly no doing of his. He had been so agitated and cowed by the damage done to her he had avoided her, giving her over to Edana every morning in relief. Henna slunk about as guiltily as Duncan. But Cait, she was so strong. She took it all in with clear eyes and an innocent heart and truly seemed content to let it all go.
Until she slept.
Their nights, which used to be a dream world of intimacy and pleasure, were transformed into trials for them both. He could not even think about reaching out to her in lust, although he burned beside her as he always had. She awoke with screams, and he awoke with an intense arousal that he did his best to hide. Her body tempted him mercilessly. Her curves rounded out as she regained her appetite and the sickness of her early pregnancy eased away. There was a pronounced curve to her belly now that he longed to kiss and caress, and her breasts...they would fill his hands if he could only touch them as he craved.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t touch her in any way that a man touched his woman. He couldn’t bear to touch her and feel her pull away from him in disgust, or even worse, fear. So they went on much as they had in the beginning, him avoiding her as much as possible except in the night, when they lay miserable and uneasy next to one another in bed.
He had wanted to ask Edana her advice, but in the end he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t admit that he even desired to use his wife, much less ask her advice on how best to go about it. No, he couldn’t. For now, he would have to go without. He didn’t deserve her anyway.
And she was pregnant, he reminded himself. The only thing that was important right now was Cait’s well-being, her health and the babe’s. If and when his wife ever wanted him again in that capacity, she could make the overtures herself.
* * * * *
Cait walked heavily up the hill to the orchard. It seemed an age ago that she’d snuck here to get his attention and ended up turned over his lap. Silly, childish games, she thought, from when she was still young and innocent. She was not innocent now. She never would be again.
Duncan knew it. He didn’t even want her anymore, now that she was so used. He didn’t deign to even touch her. In bed, he held himself away even though he soothed her fears. He probably wished she’d move back into her old room and not plague him with nightmares all night long, but she couldn’t sleep so far away from him. She would put up with his carefully cultivated distance, with his restrained touch, if only to sleep there next to him and know he was only an arm’s length away.
As she drew nearer to her favored tree, she looked over at Desmond. He bit his lip and avoided her gaze. Even her guards tiptoed around her now. Before, he would have warned her that her husband didn’t like her climbing up in trees. Now he just frowned and kept his silence. Their behavior—Duncan’s, Henna’s, her guards’—did nothing more than remind her what had happened, again and again. She scowled, looking away from him.
Only Edana treated her like a real person since her return, and she was gone now. Edana. She couldn’t call her mother, and she didn’t think Edana wanted her to. She was not much like a mother anyway, more like a wise friend. She had made Cait feel for the first time that she was not worthless, that she was not ugly and unwanted. She looked like Edana, and Edana was truly beautiful, so she must be too, at least a little. And Edana, her mother, was a great priestess. At least some of that intelligence and poise must run in her veins.
“Don’t forget that you have great power of your own, my love,” Edana had told her.
“Power? What kind of power?” Cait asked doubtfully.
“The power of a warm and innocent heart. I am not innocent, nor could I ever be, but you have the ability to look at the world through clear eyes, unfiltered by guise and pride and scheming. It is a gift, my dear, and not many have it.”
“It doesn’t do me much good, honestly.”
Edana had laughed at that, but it was true. She looked through her clear eyes at her husband, but he avoided her gaze. She looked at Henna and she skittered away. She looked at her guards and they averted their eyes. No one wanted to see what was there.
So be it. She would have a baby to care for soon. Her baby would love to stare into her eyes and smile and tug at her hair as she’d seen the other babies do to their mamas. Her baby wouldn’t know or care what Lord Douglas had done to her.
She reached the tree she loved most, with all the good broad branches for climbing. She could sit low and still feel she was hidden in a secret place, or she could climb high and be safely supported by the strong boughs. She felt like really climbing high today.
Desmond cleared his throat as she hoisted herself up into the cradle of the twisted trunk to climb onto the first branch.
“Lady, you should not climb in your...your condition.”
“I can climb just fine.”
“Your husband will not like it.”
“Won’t he? Then he can come and get me down.” If h
e cares about me, let him come.
She didn’t climb as high as she might have, because Desmond was eyeing her, coughing and frowning and scowling the higher she climbed. She made herself comfortable in a seat between two large boughs and looked around. She could see the keep, the grounds, everything from this vantage point. Spring had not quite arrived, no leaves yet bloomed.
“Can you see me, Desmond, or do the branches hide me?”
“I can see you fine, ma’am.” He frowned up at her, muttering something about how it would be his neck if she fell, just loudly enough for her to hear. Well, she would not fall. She was an expert climber. She had been her entire life. She’d been raised in a forest, she wanted to remind him, but she kept her silence.
She sat for several minutes looking around, wishing there were apples to pick, before she noticed Duncan start across the field. She probably could have eaten a dozen apples. Her appetite lately was unmatched. But there weren’t any now, nor any green leaves to hide herself, so she just waited and watched through the branches as her husband came near.
He was so comely, so handsome. Even the way he walked affected her. She remembered him crossing the bedroom to her with that walk. Intent, strong, focused. He looked a lot like Lord Douglas, but at the same time, nothing like him, because his eyes were so kind. Even now, when his face looked angry, his eyes were gentle, not cold and horrid like his father’s.
When he arrived, he dismissed Desmond with some short words and crossed his arms, glaring up from under the tree. “Come down, Caitlyn. Immediately.”
She should obey, shouldn’t she? She looked down at him, at his broad shoulders, his stern expression.
“I don’t really want to. I like it up here.”
“That may be so, but if you do not climb down from that tree this instant I will spank your disobedient bottom, six months pregnant or not.”
She shifted on the hard branch. He hadn’t touched her like that in weeks. He hadn’t spanked her or caressed her or given her his seed. She swung her legs and picked at some bark.
“If you want me, I suppose you can climb up here and haul me down.”
He frowned so darkly that Cait had the sudden urge to giggle. Laughing at him now probably wouldn’t be wise. Perhaps she had already gone too far, but she didn’t care.
“Caitlyn, do not test me. If that branch breaks and you fall—”
“It is a strong branch. That’s why I picked this place to sit.”
“You will not be sitting anywhere in a few minutes,” he muttered. “You will find it impossible to sit.”
“Will I?” Cait sighed. “I much prefer sitting here to coming down there and getting my bottom spanked. If you want me to come down, you might have to bargain with me.” She could almost hear him grinding his teeth. “I might come down if you promise to hold me,” she offered softly. His chest rose and fell. He looked at her with a look she didn’t understand. “Why don’t you hold me anymore, Duncan?”
“I do hold you.”
“Not like you did before. You hold me like something that’s fragile. Like something that’s already broken beyond repair.”
“That’s not true,” he said, but then fell quiet. His arms uncrossed and he put them on his hips in frustration.
“Come down, right now!”
“No! Come and get me.”
With a curse he hiked himself into the tree. Cait watched half alarmed and half delighted as he scaled the branches more quickly than she ever could. He hauled himself to a stout bough just below her and looked hard into her eyes.
“I miss you, Duncan,” she whispered.
He took her in his arms and kissed her. She moaned. She didn’t mean to, but to feel him really touch her again was almost too much to bear. Her soft pleading sounds seemed to inflame him, and his hands roved over her restlessly.
“Cait...” he sighed when they finally parted.
“Do you still love me, Duncan? I want to be your true wife, like I was before. If you still want me.”
His gaze seared her. She thought he might take her right there in the cold branches of the tree. She would have welcomed him without complaint. But he began to climb down impatiently.
“Come with me. Now. To the room.”
He jumped to the ground and practically yanked her out of the tree, leading her back to the keep at an unforgiving pace. When she became winded, he lifted her in his arms and carried her. She clung to his neck, breathing in his manly scent. Up in his room, he let her down and she felt suddenly shy under his gaze. But she was determined to please him, to make him want her again the way he used to.
“Undress,” he said. “Show yourself to me.”
Cait complied, but she was conscious of the changes in her body, the pronounced bump at her waistline where she could feel the baby move sometimes, a flutter in her middle. Duncan came to her, running his hands over her new shape.
“The baby grows.”
“Yes.”
“It is a beautiful look for you. I hope... I hope...”
He looked troubled. She reached for him. “I’m not afraid of bearing this babe. I’m more afraid of that spanking you threatened.”
He smiled and pointed to the bed, taking off his clothes.
“You should be afraid. You will get a spanking, but...my God. First things first. Lie down, wife.”
She laid back and he came over her, kissing her passionately. He grasped her hands in his and pulled them over her head so she felt completely and totally controlled. Not controlled...safe. He wouldn’t let go. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her, but she wanted it, she craved it. She thought for a moment of Lord Douglas pressing against her, forcing his way into her. This was not at all the same, although Duncan looked down at her worriedly.
“Okay?”
“Yes,” she breathed. Yes, please, please. Take me.
“If I hurt you,” he said, “let me know.”
He was simply insane with desire. He wanted to plunge inside her violently, reclaiming her, making her his own. She sighed and moaned so sweetly under him. How had he resisted her charms for so long?
She wanted him. She wanted him. She clearly wanted him every bit as much as she had before. Why had he waited? Why had he denied himself? He wouldn’t deny either of them a second more. He slid inside her slowly, inch by inch, reveling in the feeling of possessing her again. “Okay?”
In answer, she shifted closer, arching against him. “Please, please...”
He withdrew and surged forward more deeply, drawing from her a shuddering moan. His free hand roved over her, cupping her breasts, bringing the dark pink nipples to his lips to suck and tease. She was so intense, so alive under him. He reached down to cup her bottom, to hold her fast for his demanding thrusts.
“Okay?” he rasped.
Her stifled groan signaled that she was as she writhed under him. She came a moment later, breathless and uncontrolled.
He released her and turned her on her stomach, pulling her onto her knees before plunging back inside. He held her hips in his hands, looking down at her shapely figure. In the light of day, he could see the fading scars there, thin stripes on her buttocks and back. But they made her no less beautiful to him, only more so. Her bravery, her desire, her refusal to give up when all seemed hopeless...her ability to forgive. He loved her. He needed her.
He had been foolish to deny himself that which he needed most on earth. Her smile, her laughter, her affectionate clinginess, he couldn’t take these things for granted anymore. He couldn’t hide away from her, hoping she wouldn’t affect him. She affected him. It was a lost cause. But it was okay, he thought as he drove into her, touching her deepest center, claiming her very soul. It was all okay, he thought as he shook with the pleasure of emptying himself inside her. With Cait, everything would always be okay.
He rubbed the small of her back as he lingered inside her, admiring the sight of her on her hands and knees. She began to shift, but a low sound from his throat stilled h
er, and she resumed her stance, back arched, head down. Only after a long moment did he withdraw his cock and back away. Even then, she lay still as he’d arranged her. He studied her pliant form thoughtfully, running his hand up her thigh to her bottom.
“How white and unmarked you are, Cait.”
She made a faint sound into the bedcovers. He caressed the other shapely globe.
“There is still the matter of your punishment to see to.”
She sighed softly. “I know.”
He leaned close to her, breathing in the scent of her hair as he whispered in her ear. “You remember, of course, it is not to hurt you. It is not only done to cause pain. Not like him...”
“Yes, I know. I know you do it to help me be good.”
“And because I love you.”
“And because you love me. And care about me, and want me to be safe.”
“Good girl,” Duncan said. “You haven’t forgotten.”
No, she had never forgotten, although he had. Everyone had forgotten what love was all about. Everyone but Cait.
“Such a good girl.” He lifted her hands from the bed to place them firmly on the headboard. “Such commendable obedience is rewarded. If you keep your hands there and remain perfectly still for the first ten strokes, you may take the second ten over my lap.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Cait in a most submissive tone.
With a smile he lifted his leather belt from the floor and doubled it over. He didn’t make her wait. And yes, he was perhaps a bit soft on her, but it had been a while since she’d taken any punishment, and she was several months pregnant besides. Still, he managed to give them just enough sting. She fought against the urge to fidget and dodge the blows, her fists going white-knuckled where they wrapped over the edge of the bed. She grew more and more tense, determined to please him. At ten, she sighed in relief.
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