Annabella was outraged. “He most certainly was involved! He was there! He imprisoned the queen so she could not defend Master Riccio. He followed every order that that old devil Ruthven gave him. How can he in good conscience swear he knew nothing of the plot and was not involved? He hated Riccio. Was jealous of him. He even suggested once that the bairn the queen carries might be Riccio’s.”
“And it was partly because of that accusation that he was spared. The bairn to be born is Darnley’s. But until it is born, and Darnley formally accepts it as his own blood, its legitimacy could be questioned. Darnley is a childish coward, and it is unlikely he would make such a claim. But we cannot endanger the rights of Scotland’s future king. Darnley must be placated and declared innocent. Once the queen’s bairn is born it will be a different matter,” Angus answered her.
“The queen hates him now,” Annabella said. “She will not miss him.”
Nay, she would not. Angus Ferguson had seen the way Mary Stuart looked at James Hepburn. He had seen his friend’s hidden desire for the queen warring with his honor. But if Henry, Lord Darnley, the man who styled himself Scotland’s king, were no longer alive, he believed that Bothwell’s scruples could be overcome, despite the fact that he was newly married, and he would pursue the queen. The marriage between James Hepburn and Jean Gordon had been a political match. There was no love between the two, and Angus Ferguson knew that Bothwell was already considering a divorce that Jean’s brother, George Gordon, would not object to as long as his sister came out of the marriage a rich woman.
But he kept this knowledge to himself. Annabella was recovered from the loss of their bairn. April was coming to an end, and it was past time for them to return to Duin.
He sent a messenger to Matthew, who had returned to Duin weeks ago, that they would be coming. Another messenger was sent ahead to see to the accommodations for their trip.
They left Burnside House on a clear and sunny morning, traveling slowly, for Angus did not want his wife’s recovery to relapse.
Ten days later they stopped upon a hill to view the towers of Duin Castle. Beyond it the deep blue sea sparkled in the May sunshine. The hills were dotted with flowers and their flocks of sheep. In the meadows their cattle grazed placidly. Angus Ferguson felt his heart expanding with his pleasure. Reaching out, he took Annabella’s hand in his.
“At last!” she breathed.
The joy on her plain face delighted him. She loved Duin as much as he did. And he loved her as much as he did Duin.
Chapter 8
A week after they had settled back into their home, the earl sent Matthew Ferguson across Scotland into the eastern borders to Rath to fetch Mistress Agnes Baird. Matthew carried with him a letter from Annabella explaining the loss of her bairn. The laird and his wife were saddened by the news, and outraged that Darnley had played a part in robbing them of a grandchild.
Agnes was now fifteen, and the prettiest of her sisters. She had dancing eyes, the blue of a summer’s sky, and fluffy brown hair filled with golden highlights. Matthew could not help but notice how trim her figure was, with its dainty waist and generous bosom that had not seemed quite as voluptuous six months ago. Odd, he thought to himself. She was interesting the last time I saw her, but now she is delectable.
It took several days for Agnes’s belongings to be packed for her visit, as she had not been certain when her escort would come. Matthew and his men were content to wait. And then a week after his arrival at Rath they were ready to make the long return journey. Agnes was filled with excitement as she mounted her horse.
Lady Anne and her husband bade their youngest daughter farewell. “Be helpful, and dinna impose too greatly upon yer sister, my child. I know yer visit will delight her.”
“I promise to be good, Mama,” Agnes said dutifully as her father gave her a wink. She was anxious to be off on this adventure she had waited so many months to attain. And she was anxious to be free of Rath. It had been very dull since her three older sisters had wed and gone off with their new husbands. Myrna now lived in the far north. It was very unlikely Agnes would ever see Myrna again. Sorcha lived nearby in much the same style as the Bairds. There was no excitement there. But Annabella lived across Scotland in a castle on the sea. Agnes had never seen the sea, and she was most anxious to do so.
And to be escorted to Duin by a handsome man might prove delightful, she decided.
Matthew Ferguson gave the signal to depart, and the journey to Duin began.
To Matthew’s surprise Agnes Baird turned out to be an excellent and uncomplaining traveler. Whether it was her nature to be so or simply the novelty of the journey, he didn’t know, but he was grateful. Anxious to see her eldest sister, Agnes had even pushed Matthew to travel faster. Liking her spirit of adventure, he had gladly obliged her. They reached Duin a day before he had anticipated that they would.
Annabella and Angus were awaiting them in the courtyard. Agnes jumped down from her horse and ran to her sister. The two siblings hugged.
“Let me look at ye, Aggie,” Annabella said, setting the girl in front of her at arm’s length. “Oh, my! Ye’ve grown taller, and ye finally have breasts! Come into the hall. Ye’ll tell me everything that has happened at Rath in these last months since I saw ye.”
The earl stepped forward and kissed his sister-in-law’s rosy cheeks. “Welcome to Duin, little sister Agnes,” he greeted her.
Agnes curtsied politely. “Oh, thank ye, my lord! And thank ye for sending yer brother to escort me. Matthew proved a delightful traveling companion, even if he is a bit slow a-horse.” Then, linking arms with her sister, she entered the castle.
Matthew Ferguson’s mouth fell open at being called poky a-horse.
“All is well at Rath, I assume,” Angus Ferguson said, chuckling at both Agnes’s remark and his brother’s reaction to it. He could see that his young sister-in-law was going to prove a lively addition to his household.
“Aye,” Matthew said. “The laird and his wife are well, saddened by yer loss, but hopeful that another bairn will soon be on the way.”
“So Mistress Agnes considers ye a delightful traveling companion,” the earl teased his younger brother.
Matthew flushed. “She’s an interesting little minx,” he said.
The two men joined the two women in the hall, where Agnes was taking a cup of wine from a servant.
“I think ye are no longer quite so plain, Annabella,” the men heard Agnes say. “Ye’re actually beginning to look pretty.”
“I am happy,” Annabella said quietly.
Angus Ferguson sat down next to his wife on the settle by the great hearth. Taking her hand, he gave it a little squeeze, which she reciprocated.
He loves her! Agnes thought to herself. That’s what I want. A man who will love me. How fortunate my sister is, but she deserves her happiness.
“Mama writes that ye have many suitors,” Annabella noted.
“They only want me because I am beautiful,” Agnes said scornfully, “and they want my gold dower. They do not want me. I have never been like Myrna, who was content in her beauty and thought it was enough. Nor am I like Sorcha, who is pleased to have married into a family more important than the Bairds. And I am not like you, Annabella. You were happy to have been given a husband at all, for no one thought such a plain lass would ever wed. It was believed ye would remain at Rath looking after our parents as they aged, and thus free any wife Robbie took from that burden.”
Although the earl bridled at his sister-in-law’s thoughtless tongue, Annabella merely laughed. “And yet I was given the greatest prize of a husband,” she said. “One never knows what will happen, Aggie. Dinna despair. Ye and yer true love will find each other one fine day. Ye are, after all, only fifteen.”
“Sorcha was sixteen when she wed,” Agnes reminded her sibling.
“Then surely within the next year something wonderful will happen for ye,” Annabella teased. She reached out to touch her sister’s cheek. “I am so glad ye’
re wi’ me, Aggie. I have missed ye, and I have a great deal to show ye here at Duin.”
Agnes Baird had arrived at Duin at the end of the month of May. Her sister’s home was a wonder to her. Like Annabella, she had never before lived in so large a dwelling; nor had she seen the sea. The water, the waves, the soaring gulls all delighted her. She loved the vivid sunsets. One clear day Annabella had insisted that Matthew take Agnes to the rooftop of the castle to see the magnificent view.
With much grumbling Matthew Ferguson climbed the narrowing staircase to the very top of one of the square towers. Agnes was right behind him. Opening a small door, he carefully stepped out, then reached back to take her hand and pull her up onto the rooftop. Together they walked to the stone parapet that bordered the edge of the tower.
“Look out across the sea and tell me what ye see,” he instructed her.
Agnes stared, seeing in the distance something she had never noticed before when she looked out over the water. “Is that land out there?” She looked up at him for the answer. “Is it an island?”
“Nay, ’tis the northern end of Ireland,” he told her. “On a very clear day like today ye can see it. The Irish used to raid Scotland. They haven’t come to Duin in my memory, although I understand they still raid this land. Perhaps we are too strong.”
“Could we take a boat and sail there in a day?” she asked.
“Aye, wi’ a good stiff breeze we might just make it,” he said, admiring her spirit of adventure. “But why would we go?”
“To see what’s there,” Agnes answered him. “Why don’t we?”
“Because I am the steward of Duin. I have my duties to perform daily, Aggie. ’Tis the way of the world. A man toils. The woman keeps the house and bears the bairns,” Matthew told her.
“Then I might just have to go myself,” Agnes said pertly. She looked up at him and smiled. “Would ye miss me if I went, Matthew?”
He gulped. There was no way she could know that he had been thinking a great deal about her ever since she had arrived at Duin over a month ago. “Nay,” he boldly lied. “I should not miss ye.” He waited for her to either weep with disappointment or castigate him for his words.
But she did neither. Instead Agnes Baird smiled a knowing little smile at him.
Matthew Ferguson was suddenly uncomfortable. “If ye’ve seen enough, then,” he said in a tight voice, “I hae more important duties to attend to, mistress. We will return to the hall.” He went down the steep ladder that led from the roof to the stone floor of the tower’s landing first, then reached up with both hands to help her down.
June slipped into July and August. Agnes Baird was quite comfortable in her sister’s house. It was Angus who suggested she might want to remain for several more months. Annabella agreed with her husband that it would please her greatly, and Agnes was delighted. A messenger was sent off to Rath, and returned with permission. The sisters rode out daily. They hunted with the men, and shot at the archery butts set out in the courtyard. They spent lazy September afternoons lying in a meadow talking.
The days were becoming cooler and shorter. The warm hall was very welcoming in the evenings, when they would play chess with Angus or Matthew. The earl had been careful of his wife since the loss of their child, but now with the long nights he felt his need for her rising, and sensed that she felt the same. Catching her briefly alone in the hall late one afternoon, he took her hand up, kissed it, and said, “I miss ye. I need ye in my arms again, Annabella.”
Her gray eyes filled with warm laughter. “I thought ye would never ask,” she surprised him by saying. “I hae missed ye too. Jeannie said I was well healed several weeks back, but ye seemed more interested in the possibility of English raiders and the cattle than ye did in me, my lord.”
“I was making up things to divert me from how much I wanted to be back in my wife’s bed,” he said, grinning.
“Then come to it,” she said softly.
“What of the evening meal?” he asked her, looking to the servants, who were now setting the high board and dragging the trestles for the men from the side alcove, where they were kept after meals.
“It will be served whether we are at the high board or nae,” Annabella said, smiling. “But if ye would prefer to wait until after ye hae supped, my lord, I shall abide by yer decision.” She curtsied and, turning about, left the hall. Once inside her bedchamber Annabella undid the fastenings holding her bodice to her skirt. The skirt dropped away to the floor. Undoing her petticoats, she stepped from the pile of material, kicking her shoes off as she did. Unable to reach the laces of her bodice, she waited for him. He would, Annabella knew, enjoy doing it. She undid her long dark hair and began to brush it free of tangles, restraining her laughter when he burst through the door of her bedchamber. “Undo my bodice for me,” she greeted him before turning her back to him.
He acquiesced, unlacing the bodice, pulling it off of her, tossing it aside. Fascinated, she watched his hands coming about her to undo the ribbons holding her chemise closed. It fell away from her. He pushed the delicate garment from her shoulders, his hands slipping beneath her beautiful breasts. He groaned low in her ear as he felt the weight of them settle in his palms. His fingers tightened about the firm flesh, rubbing the nipples with the rough balls of his thumbs.
Pressing her against the bed, the earl knelt so he might undo her garters. Slowly he rolled the gossamer stockings down her shapely legs, his expert tongue following his fingers down the warm, soft flesh of her thighs as he divested each leg of its silken covering. As he drew each stocking from her feet he kissed each one, nibbling at her toes, which caused her to giggle.
Every inch of her seemed to be throbbing. With a great effort she stood up so she might undress him; he had entered her bedchamber in only his breeks and a shirt. She undid the ties of the shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Then Annabella pressed her own naked breasts against the smooth, warm flesh of his chest, rubbing her nipples against him quite wickedly.
“Woman,” he growled low in his throat. “Do ye mean to try my patience?”
“Aye,” she whispered in his ear before she licked it. Her hands moved to unfasten his breeks. He wore no drawers beneath, and as they fell away she reached about him to cup his firm buttocks in her hands, squeezing them lightly. “Have ye truly missed me, my lord? If ye would hae me believe it, ye must show me how much.” She took a hand and stroked the length of his manhood, reaching beneath it to cup him.
The earl groaned as fiery pleasure engulfed him. A brief year ago she had been a shy but curious virgin. He had taken that curiosity and taught her to satisfy him, to satisfy them both. She had proven to be an incredible pupil. Jesu! He groaned again as she fell to her knees to take him into her mouth. She had learned her lessons well, he considered as a bolt of wicked sensation shot through him. His long fingers tangled themselves in her thick hair, kneading her scalp as she brought his cock to raging life with her mouth, her tongue, and the skillful fingers that teased his balls. He closed his eyes briefly, savoring her delicious attentions.
In the early months of their marriage he had actually come to like her for the qualities that had nothing to do with her gorgeous, tempting body. He saw kindness, thoughtfulness, and intelligence. It was her clever mind that he found truly pleased him, and her instant loyalty to Duin. Then, when they had finally joined their bodies, he had been astounded by the perfection of her body. It had aroused in him a passion such as he had never known. Some might have thought it lust, and perhaps in the beginning it had been. But not now. He was in love with his wife, and could not imagine his life without her. To his relief she had responded in kind to his passion. “Enough, sweetheart,” he begged her.
Annabella arose gracefully, slipping her arms about his neck, her lithe body pressing against him. “Dinna play the lover, my lord. I need ye inside of me. Deep inside! Afterward we will sport ourselves with kisses and caresses, but now I very much need to be fucked, Angus, my lord and husband.”
He pressed her back against the edge of the bed, pushing her down, drawing her legs up and over his shoulders. “I am happy to oblige ye, madam,” he said thickly, guiding his engorged cock into her with an audible sigh of pleasure.
Wet and hot, her sheath enclosed him eagerly, squeezing the long, thick peg that plunged itself into her right to the very hilt.
“Is that what ye desire, madam?” he demanded of her. He stood very still now.
“Aye!” Holy Mother! His cock throbbed with life as he stood over her. Her eyes were shut to better experience the sensations, and she repeated, “Oh, aye, Angus! But ’twill be even more perfect, my darling, if ye will . . . Ahhh! Oh! Aye! Just like that! Dinna stop! Dinna ye dare stop!” Her hands fisted themselves into the coverlet beneath.
At first he moved with slow and majestic strokes, pushing as deep as he could, slowly withdrawing almost all the way until he could see his tormenting was beginning to drive her wild with passion. After a time he increased his tempo, his cock flashing furiously back and forth with great rapidity. Her pleasurable moans of delight increased his own desire. He felt invincible. As if he could go on like this forever and ever.
They were both panting as each stroke of his cock brought them closer and closer to pure perfection. Annabella burned and froze with her need for him. She tightened herself about him again, wresting a cry of delight from him. Knowing that he wanted her, needed her, every bit as much as she did him excited Annabella. The rapture began to build, swiftly rising up to overwhelm her. She opened her mouth to scream her satisfaction as she was rocked by spasm after spasm after spasm.
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