Bond of Passion

by Bertrice Small

  “If they send the same message we will still nae learn the time and place or the first of their victims,” Angus said. “That is what we must discover.”

  “I dinna believe they would be informing Dumbarton unless the time was near to begin implementing their wicked scheme,” Annabella noted. “Take the courier now, and then let us wait a few days before questioning him. Or better, I could simply bring the message that ye hold to Dumbarton myself. Perhaps I could learn something there.”

  “It’s too dangerous,” Angus Ferguson told his wife. “What if ye were caught?”

  “Someone is going to die, my lord. And Scotland is going to be thrown into chaos again. We hae the ability to prevent that, and we must.”

  “We could send Matthew to Dumbarton,” the earl suggested. “He needs to repent of his disobedience.”

  “Forgie me, my dear lord, but yer brother can no longer be trusted,” Annabella said bluntly. “His heart is good, I am sure, and he would go wi’ the best of intentions, but then he would be swept up in the patriotic fever of those who wish to restore the queen. He would betray ye, betray us, and then he would repent, but it would be too late.”

  “I could go,” the earl said.

  “Nay,” Annabella replied, shaking her head. “The Hamiltons may have informed those at Dumbarton of yer refusal to help. They would nae believe yer change of heart. There is nothing for it but that the lad I can be must go.”

  “Nay! I canna allow it, sweetheart,” he told her.

  “Dumbarton is easier than having to find the Hamiltons’ hidey-hole,” Annabella said, as if he had not spoken at all. “Come, my lord; the hour grows late. It is past time we were abed, Angus.” She stood up, and the cat on her lap hissed at being displaced once more. It stalked off, its ears turned back.

  “Jesu, woman, are ye attempting to seduce me?” he demanded of her.

  “Oh, may I?” she teased him, and, laughing, took his hand to lead him upstairs.

  “I will not be ensorcelled by yer charms, Annabella, many as they may be,” he said sternly, but he did not pull away. Indeed, he was smiling. How he loved his lass!

  “Nay, nay, my lord, of course not.” She whirled about, standing upon her tiptoes, and kissed his mouth a quick kiss.

  “I will take a hazel switch and beat ye,” he threatened.

  “And if I am deserving, ye should, my lord, ye should,” Annabella agreed.

  They were on the stairs now. He stopped and pushed her against the wall, his hand sliding beneath her velvet skirts along her silken thigh. He pressed his big body against hers as his fingers tangled in the dark curls covering her mons. “Oh, ye are deserving, my love, of a great deal,” he told her. “And I intend on seeing ye get all ye deserve.” A finger slipped through her nether lips to touch her love button, to rub it teasingly.

  Annabella drew a sharp breath. She loved it when he touched her there. She wiggled against the ball of his finger. She was already moist, and growing wetter with the teasing pressure and friction of that finger. “Angus,” she moaned against his lips.

  The finger was withdrawn from the sensitive nub, leaving it tingling but not at all satisfied.

  “Oh, nay, madam,” he said softly into her ear. “Ye will nae hae yer way wi’ me so easily before I hae had a full measure of my own back.” He took his hand from beneath her skirts and continued up the stairs, this time leading her through her apartments and into her bedchamber. Turning her back to him, he unlaced her gown, pushing it down to her waist. His hands reached around to undo the ribbons of her chemise, which he peeled away over her shoulders and down to meet the fabric of the gown. Then, holding her by her shoulders, he bent to slowly trace a line of kisses down her backbone.

  Annabella sighed, feeling his warm lips moving across her flesh.

  His hands dropped from her shoulders to cup her breasts, which he fondled at his leisure. Now his hands were moving to clasp her waist so he might lift her from her slippers and the pile of fabric that had covered her glorious body. She was naked but for her stockings with their silk ribbon garters.

  Free of entanglement, Annabella turned about and began to undo the sleeveless leather jerkin that he wore. She unlaced his shirt, pulling it from him, and then, bending to press kisses all over his chest and torso, she slipped to her knees before him. She could feel his various pulse points jumping beneath her lips as she moved lower and lower. Her hands worked to undo his breeks, beneath which he wore naught. Her breath caught briefly in her throat at the sight of his wonderful manhood. She gave his taut buttocks a quick fondle as, now fully kneeling, she reached for him.

  His cock was yet a wonder to her. Annabella could not know for certain, but she assumed its size was of a larger variety. Whether it was or not made little difference to her, as it gave the greatest of pleasures, for he wielded it skillfully. Taking a gentle hold on it, she licked its length several times while her other hand played with his sac. Angus made a small murmur as the message of her tongue was conveyed to him. Annabella next licked the tip of his cock with several seductive sweeps of her tongue before taking that tip between her lips, pressing down on it, rolling it between those lips.

  His hand slipped to her dark head. He had taught her months before how to suck his cock, but something instinctual had taken over and she had refined the task into the sweetest of tortures. He felt her mouth opening now to absorb as much of him as she could. She began to tug upon the peg of flesh within her mouth with delicate pulls that grew stronger and stronger. Then, sensing his excitement, she would pull back, her tongue caressing his length and his thickness as it lay imprisoned between her lips. The wicked bit of flesh stroked him, encircled him, but never allowed him release. Finally he could bear no more of this deliciousness. “Enough!” he growled in a hoarse voice, and as she released him he pulled her up to kiss her hungrily.

  She loved teasing him. She had discovered almost immediately that she had an instinct for pleasuring him without bringing him to completion. Now it was her turn, and Angus Ferguson did not fail his wife. He kissed her until her lips were bruised. His tongue ravaged hers until she was weak. Then he stopped and, seating her upon the edge of the big bed, he pushed her gently back, pulled her shapely legs up over his shoulders, and buried his dark head between her thighs. The tip of his tongue found her love button, touching it lightly at first, then with delicate, quick touches, until Annabella could not refrain from making small noises as his tongue began to stroke her strongly. Then his lips closed over that sensitive little nub of flesh and sucked hard, releasing the first flow of her juices. Annabella shuddered with the tiny burst of pleasure.

  Now he raised himself up. Holding his swollen cock in his hand, he guided it into her welcoming sheath with a single hard and deep thrust. “God, ye feel good!” he groaned as he filled her full. Then he began to piston her.

  Annabella couldn’t speak at first. His cock moved slowly but steadily, its speed increasing slightly with each strong stroke until it flashed in and out of her with incredible rapidity. Then he would slow his pace again, and when he did Annabella squeezed him, the walls of her sheath closing about him so tightly that he cried out at one point. Then the movement began once again. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth until they were both drenched in utter pleasure.

  “Dinna wait,” she whispered hotly in his ear.

  “I canna,” he admitted, increasing the tempo that shortly sent them both over the edge and into paradise as his juices flooded her secret garden and she cried out with her need fulfilled. He fell on the bed next to her then.

  For some minutes they lay motionless: Annabella with her legs now fallen over the edge of the bed, Angus on his belly near her. Finally she managed to crawl up and beneath the coverlet, tugging at him to do the same, for the night air was becoming chill.

  He pulled her into his arms with a groan into her long loose hair, and whispered that he adored her.

  “I love ye too, Angus,” she responded. “But send someone to
catch the Hamiltons’ messenger before he escapes us.”

  He laughed softly. “I hae just loved ye verra well, wife, and ye canna enjoy the afterglow?” he teased her. He released his hold on her, climbing from their bed to yank upon the bellpull. To his relief his serving man, Tormod, appeared immediately, entering through the small door that connected the earl’s bedchamber to his wife’s. “Send several men-at-arms to catch the Hamilton messenger who came to my brother’s house. Treat him well, but put him in the castle dungeon. He may still be at Matthew’s or he may have departed either back south or toward Dumbarton.”

  “At once, my lord,” Tormod replied with a quick bow, and was gone again. He was not in the least disconcerted by his master’s naked state.

  Angus Ferguson climbed back into bed to pull his wife close. She murmured sleepily, for she was already slipping into rest. In a few hours she would want to play again, he knew. Annabella had gained a healthy appetite for bed sport, he considered with a grin. He chuckled, and concentrated on sleep. The demanding wench would be awake soon enough.

  But to his surprise they both slept until Jean awakened them just as dawn was breaking. “They caught the messenger,” she said by way of greeting. “Get up now, for the day is beginning, and yer breakfast will soon be in the hall.”

  The earl got up and, walking to the little door separating the bedchambers, passed through it so that he might have the services of his serving man.

  “He still has a fine ass,” Jean remarked pithily. “I remember when we swam together as children. What will ye wear today?”

  “Something that doesna make me look all female and fragile,” Annabella said.

  “Ahh, ye’re planning some naughtiness,” Jean remarked, “aren’t ye?”

  “The lad I once was must be resurrected,” Annabella said. Then she explained everything that had happened yesterday.

  “Aye, Ned told me of Matthew’s lapse in judgment,” Jean said. “Did Angus really forbid him the castle?”

  “Aye, until his anger cools. I think that once we can correct this situation, Jean, Angus will nae be quite so angry, but questioning the earl’s judgment was not a wise thing for Matthew to do. It is his antipathy toward me that seems to direct this. Why does he persist in disliking me so, Jeannie?”

  “Because he’s a fool,” her tiring woman said. “Matthew has always almost worshiped Angus. He felt Angus should hae a woman as beautiful as Angus was handsome, and wi’ a large dower to match his brother’s wealth. Instead Angus took ye, a plain-faced lass, to wife for a piece of land he coveted. I think my brother thinks ye are nae worthy of his idol.”

  “He told Angus I was too bold,” Annabella said as Jean laced up her gown.

  Jean laughed. “Matthew is an old-fashioned man. He thinks women should be silent, yet neither our mother nor Angus’s mother was meek and mild. Is Aggie?”

  “Aggie is like our mother: quiet to a point, but she will speak up when she hae had enough, and believes a situation needs correcting,” Annabella explained. “I think she may hae given poor Matthew quite a piece of her mind when she learned what he had done. Angus scolded her severely for nae telling him what she knew until it was almost too late. She is nae used to a woman’s first loyalty being to her overlord, nae her husband. I think Angus hae made that quite clear to her now, however.”

  “Aye, I expect that he did,” Jean agreed. “He hae had the responsibility of Duin ever since he was a young lad. He is a good lord.”

  “Aye, he is,” Annabella said.

  Jean dressed her mistress’s hair. “Ye’re ready,” she said.

  “Thank ye.” Annabella got up and hurried from her apartments down into the hall. Angus was not yet there, but Agnes was already seated at the high board. Annabella joined her younger sister. “Feel better this morning?” she asked Agnes.

  Agnes nodded, but then she said, “I think I should take Robbie and go home today, Annabella. Angus is certain to be angry until he can straighten out Matthew’s foolishness, I fear.”

  “Angus hae told ye ye’re to remain in the castle until he gives ye permission to leave,” Annabella reminded her sibling. “He is the earl, the laird here, sister. It is his word that prevails, nae mine nor yers nor Matthew’s. Ye are nae stupid, Aggie, and this is nae Rath, where our da is laird, husband, and father. This is Duin. We owe our very existence to its earl. Why can ye nae understand this?”

  “I do, and yet Matthew is my husband. It seems odd that yer husband must approve his every move.” She sighed. “I know ’tis nae different than the household of any other lord, and yet I chafe, as I know does Matthew,” Agnes replied.

  “When this crisis is over,” Annabella said, “I will ask Angus if we may do something that could change all that, but for now ye must obey him.”

  “I will,” Agnes promised.

  The earl came into the hall. He did not look pleased as he joined them. He gave Agnes a quelling look as she concentrated upon her oat stirabout.

  “Eat before ye interrogate the messenger,” Annabella said to her husband.

  “I hae already spoken wi’ him,” Angus said. “Now that he believes he faces nae real danger from us, he will nae cooperate and tell me from whence he came. When I hae eaten I will see he is disabused of the notion that we are weak.”

  “Angus, ye canna torture the man,” she said.

  “Of course I can, and I intend to,” he told her. “Going to Dumbarton is a better idea than going into the Hamiltons’ lair, wherever it may be, but I need to know if this man came from Dumbarton originally. We dinna need any surprises.”

  “What will ye do to him?” she asked, fascinated in spite of herself.

  “A wee beating will loosen his tongue,” the earl said, helping himself to a large portion of eggs and several rashers of bacon. He pulled a piece off of the cottage loaf, buttering it generously with his thumb.

  “Nae too hard,” Annabella pleaded for the man.

  The Earl of Duin laughed. “Ye’re too softhearted, sweetheart. We need to know what he knows, and we need to know it in relatively short order.” He began eating with a good appetite, his good nature restored by just being with Annabella.

  “Gie the man a day or two to consider his position,” Annabella suggested. “Surely we hae a little time, particularly if this messenger does not arrive as promptly as those waiting at Dumbarton expect. And unless he originally came from there, went to the Hamiltons, and is returning to Dumbarton, it’s likely he isn’t on a fixed schedule. A messenger comes when a messenger comes, Angus.”

  “I’ll gie him a day to reconsider his fate,” the earl said.

  But by the next day the courier still remained obdurate. Annabella, however, could not bear to know the man would be beaten. She insisted upon going down into the dungeons to speak with the fellow herself. He was surprised to see this plain-faced woman standing looking through the cell door grate.

  “I am the Countess of Duin,” she introduced herself.

  Her husband’s prisoner jumped up and bowed politely.

  “I dinna want to see ye beaten, sir,” she began.

  “I can take a beating,” he answered her.

  “I’m certain ye can, for ye appear to me to be a strong man,” Annabella agreed. “But what we seek to learn is hardly vital.”

  “It seems to be for ye,” he said with a cheeky grin.

  Annabella laughed. “If you answer a question for me,” she said, “I’ll answer one for ye, sir. And ye may go first.”

  He was surprised, and curious to see whether she would actually keep her word. Offering to allow him to query her first was certainly reassuring. “Verra well,” he said. “Tell me how such an attractive man like yer husband came to wed such a plain lass? Ye must be verra rich to hae gained the wedding band on yer finger.” It was a bold question, and even a bit insulting. Of course she wouldn’t answer it, and then he did not have to answer any query she put forth.

  Annabella was startled by the inquiry, but she knew if s
he did not answer their prisoner she had no chance at all of learning what she needed to know. Looking the man directly in the eye, she said mischievously, “I’m nae rich, sir, but my da had a wee bit o’ land Angus wanted for his cows. The cows gained the pasturage; and I got a husband.”

  The prisoner chuckled at her explanation. She had, to his great surprise, answered him honestly, he knew. And the truth was, the questions they wanted him to answer were really of no importance to him. “The Hamiltons hae an encampment in the hills along the border. They move it every few days in order to avoid being discovered by the King’s Men. I am a paid courier and was nae expected to return there, but to make myself of use to Lord Fleming at Dumbarton. I hae never been there before. I dinna care which side in this war prevails, as long as I earn my coin. The Hamiltons dinna pay me. Lord Fleming was to do that.” His tone was slightly aggrieved when he said it.

  “The earl will see ye are paid when we release ye,” Annabella told the prisoner.

  “And when is that to be?” he asked her.

  “When we hae completed yer commission, sir,” she said with a twinkle. “Ye’ll be comfortable until that day. Hopefully ’twill nae be long.”

  He nodded understanding, and smiled a small smile. “I thank ye for visiting wi’ me, madam. To hae the lady of the castle concerned wi’ my welfare is comforting.”

  “I hae always attempted to be a good chatelaine, although my purview hae nae before extended so deep into my husband’s castle,” Annabella said, smiling back.

  “He knows ye’re here?” the prisoner inquired.

  “Aye, he does,” she replied.

  “He must trust ye a great deal, madam.”

  “I hope he does,” Annabella answered him. Then she turned and hurried away.