Some of her fear, and also the excitement she could not quell, came from the fact that she was about to embark on a journey with a man who made her blood heat with desire. Murdina knew they would become lovers once they were away from the keep. She also knew she ought to be alarmed by that, for she would be giving away her only dowry to a man who gave her no vows or love words. That did frighten her but not enough to make her turn away from it.
She could touch him. It all came down to that simple fact. She could put her hands on the man and feel only calm or desire. If he had any evil in him, it was well buried. Even the shadow she could sense beneath the calm, beneath things like loyalty, love for his clan, and honesty, carried no tinge of evil.
“Ah, Mother dear, your lass is about to become a fallen woman,” she whispered as she gazed upward to the ceiling. “I but pray that, if ye are watching, ye will understand and forgive. I can touch him, Mother. ’Tis such a wonder that I cannae turn from it. And, aye, I do believe I may be in love with the fool.”
She collected her things and walked toward the door of the tiny room she had been given once she had been given the chore of being a maid to an honored guest. The room was dark, cold, and often damp, little more than a niche in the wall with a thin door, but it had been hers alone for a short time. After being crowded in with all the other maids who did the lowest and dirtiest of the chores, it had been a pleasure to have the tiny space. She hoped there would be a tiny space for her somewhere at Cambrun.
“I begin my adventure now, Mother,” she whispered. “Please watch over me and Sir Gillanders. Even if he isnae the mon who will stay with me, he is still a good mon.”
She slipped out of her room and headed toward Sir Ranald’s bedchamber. There was one more thing she had to pack to take with them. This time she had no hesitation about the theft she was about to commit.
Chapter Six
Gillanders picked his pack up, tossed it back down on the bed, and resumed pacing his room. He had wavered between waiting a little longer for Murdina and simply leaving without her. It was easy to convince himself that a much needed stealth was the reason she was taking so long to return, but it was also easy to convince himself that she had changed her mind and was not going to ride to Cambrun with him. The latter possibility troubled him far more than he wanted to admit.
He finally sat down on the edge of the bed, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared at the door. If she did not appear soon, he would hunt her down. Murdina thought she had been unseen when she had come to warn him, but he was not so certain. Since she had no skill at stealth, had never been trained to it, she could have been seen but simply not known it. The reason she had not joined him yet could be because Sir Ranald or one of his men had caught her warning him or even caught her as she was trying to join him now. His stomach knotted at the thought of Murdina’s facing an angry Sir Ranald.
The sound of a soft footstep just outside his door brought him to his feet. He was standing at the side of the door, dagger in hand, as it was eased open. Murdina’s scent came to him first, but he remained tense until he was absolutely certain there was no one with her. The moment he was sure she was alone, he tugged her into the room and shut the door. Relieved that she was safe and with him again, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
Murdina let the heat of his kiss melt away her fear, but before she sank beneath the fog of desire he could so easily rouse in her, she backed away from him. “We dinnae have time for that, I think.”
“Nay, true enough. A shame that.” He frowned when he realized she carried two sacks. “Do ye wish me to carry one of those? They look to be quite a burden.”
“Oh, nay. One contains what little I own and some food. And, the other? Weel, the laird is spending time with his mistress in the village as is his habit, ye ken. So, I went into his bedchamber and took the skulls,” she confessed, her voice slowly fading away to a whisper. “I wasnae sure what ye would do with them but, if they are your kin, I thought ye would at best wish them removed from Sir Ranald’s mantel. I think one may be of the cousin ye lost.”
“Why would ye think that? Because he was murdered near here?”
It was very tempting to tell him that she had merely guessed, as he suggested, but she fought against giving in to that cowardice. The man had a right to know the truth, even if it changed his mind about taking her with him. If he pushed her away now, at least she could slip back to her little bed. Once on the journey to Cambrun she could find herself deserted in the middle of a strange land. Murdina did not think he would do such a cruel thing, but she had never faced anyone squarely and told him the truth about her gift.
“I touched one.” She sighed when he looked at her in confusion. “I have always had a strong intuition about people. S’truth, ye are the first person I have willingly touched in many a year, aside from my own parents. When I touch a person I can feel a great deal about who they are, what they feel. Ye just feel calm but with a wee shadow behind it all. Sir Ranald feels angry and cruel. So does Egan.”
“And ye felt that when he approached. ’Tis how ye kenned he was coming to the room.”
“Aye. Once I did get a feeling from a hammer the cooper in my village used to beat his wife to death. So, I do all I can to touch no one and to touch very few things, especially things like daggers and swords. That has nay been easy to do in such a crowded keep.”
“Ye touched the skulls.”
Relaxing a little when she sensed no revulsion or fear in him, she nodded. “Just one. I got the feeling of deep grief, the grief of a mon who kenned he would ne’er see his son grow to be a mon nor be able to protect that child as he grew.”
“Did ye see who killed him?”
Murdina realized that Sir Gillanders was no stranger to such gifts, his calm as she spoke one of utter acceptance. “Nay. I dinnae truly see, I just feel. ’Tis true that, at times, it is as if I see something, but it comes from the emotion’s being verra, verra strong. ’Tis difficult to explain, but, with the hammer I spoke of, I could feel the woman’s pain and the cooper’s fury and hate.”
He nodded. “So it was nay so verra hard to ken just what he had done with that hammer.” He took the bag holding the skulls from her. “We will take this because, aye, I suspicion they are the skulls of my kinsmen, and they should be returned to Cambrun. Mayhap, when we reach my home, ye can touch them if it doesnae repel ye, and discover enough that we may ken exactly who has been returned home.”
“I can try but ’tis just the skulls. Are ye certain your clan will want them returned?”
“ ’Tis more than we have of them now. So, come, lass, ’tis time we left this cursed place.”
Stunned at how easily he accepted something she had hidden all her life, Murdina silently followed him. There was a chance the MacNachtons had more oddities in their blood than a tendency to grow very sharp teeth. If that was true, if some of his people had gifts such as she had, for once in her life she would be able to cease fearing that someone would discover what she could do and decry her as a witch.
Murdina forced herself to concentrate on following Sir Gillanders as carefully as she could and not getting caught. The man slipped from shadow to shadow with ease as he led her down into the bowels of the keep. He had not been boasting when he had claimed he already knew how to slip away without being seen. The bolt-hole he led her through was long, narrow, dark, and damp, but she caged her fear.
Once out of it and in the stables, she wondered how they could silently escape with his horse. That was not an animal one could easily hide in the shadows. Before she could ask, he had readied his horse and her sturdy pony, secured their belongings to the saddles, and was leading his mount toward the back of the large stables. She grabbed the reins of her pony and followed him.
“Another bolt-hole?” she whispered as he opened a thick wooden door to reveal a large, ironbound one.
“Sir Ranald obviously plans to flee on horseback if pressed to it. I wondered when I saw how the stab
les were built hard up against the curtain wall. It did take a while to be able to open both doors and the iron-gate though. On the outside is a steep hillside, difficult for an enemy to descend unseen by men on the walls, so this proved not to be the weakness I thought it to be. It is, however, a way to leave this place unseen with a mount to help us put a lot of miles between us and this cursed place ere we are discovered to be gone.”
It all worked just as he said it would, but the fear that they would be caught did not leave Murdina until they were several miles away. She could no longer see the keep, and there had been no outcry, so she began to believe that they had actually succeeded in escaping. It would be several hours yet before the laird left his mistress’s bed, returned to gather the six men he thought he needed to subdue and capture Sir Gillanders, and found only an empty bed. Murdina wished she knew exactly how much effort the man would exert to hunt them down. She rested her head against Gillanders’s broad back, closed her eyes, and prayed the laird simply accepted his loss and stayed at Dunnantinny.
The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when Gillanders found a place for them to rest for a few hours. One thing he had gained from his mother was far more tolerance for the sun than many another MacNachton. The height of the day was still dangerous, however. During those hours, especially if the sun shone brightly, he could be seriously weakened and would need blood to recover his strength. That was something he wished to avoid.
He nudged Murdina awake, smiling at the way she rubbed her eyes then blinked sleepily as she looked around. As soon as he dismounted he helped her off her pony and pretended not to notice how she winced. A blacksmith’s daughter might know a lot about horses, but he doubted she had ridden one very often. Her pony was probably one the family had had to pull a cart or help at the forge.
“A shieling?” she asked as she walked around in a small circle, attempting to ease the stiffness in her legs, and studied the small stone and thatch building.
“Enough shelter for us to rest for a wee while,” he said as he tended to their mounts. “Aye, and to allow our mounts to have a wee rest as well.”
“I am certain they are in need of one.” She paused next to her pony and scratched at his ears, earning an affectionate nudge from the animal.
“Do ye think we will be safe here?”
“Aye. For a few hours. Enough to have a bite to eat, a wash, and a rest.”
Gillanders spoke even as he walked into the shieling, and she quickly followed him. It was not until they had washed the dust of travel away, eaten a little, and prepared to take a rest that Murdina realized Gillanders was anticipating a great deal more than a rest. While she had cleared away what they had used to have their meager meal, he had set out their blankets. He had also stripped down to his braes and was now lying on the blanket, his arms crossed beneath his head, watching her closely. The desire he had for her was so clear and strong she could almost scent it in the air.
She hesitated only a moment before shedding her gown and slipping beneath the blanket they would use for a cover. He was the one she wanted. He was the only man she had ever been able to touch freely. In most people’s eyes it would seem wrong of her to want to give herself to him when he had not even offered a future together for them, but she did not care. The ability to touch him without being drowned in feelings of every sort was a blessing she could not ignore. This might be the only time she could learn just what could be shared between a man and a woman. If she ended up alone, it would hurt, but not as much as having missed this chance to know the things that had made her mother smile whenever the woman looked at Murdina’s father.
Gillanders turned on his side, wrapped an arm around her waist, and tugged her close. “I do heed a nay when ’tis said, lass.”
“I ken it,” she said, knowing she was blushing but trying to ignore it. “I find I am nay inclined to say it.”
“I cannae tell ye how much it pleases me to hear ye say so.”
He did not have to tell her, she could feel it. As he kissed her, his tongue stroking the inside of her mouth in a way that had her clinging to him, Murdina sensed his desire, and it fed her own. This would truly be a sharing, she thought, fighting not to tense with shyness as he rid her of her shift. The moment he pulled her back into his arms and their flesh touched for the first time, she ceased to worry about her decision. She was skin to skin with a man, and all she felt was desire, his and hers. She would be a fool to run from this.
Gillanders knew the moment she had shed all doubt, for her body nestled against his in a welcome that had his heart racing like that of some untried boy. He kissed her until that soft haze made her eyes the color of the sea and then began to kiss his way down to her breasts. As she stroked his back and arms, he could feel the faint roughness there, but the rest of her skin was as soft and sweet as he had thought it would be. He silently promised her that she would never have to suffer the roughness of hard work on her hands again.
The rose-colored tips of her breasts were hard and beckoning, and Gillanders feasted on them. He slid his hand down over her taut stomach and between her legs. She tensed a little but that faded as he caressed her. The damp welcome of her desire was quick to form, and he had to grit his teeth against the urge to thrust himself into her heat as quickly as possible. He eased a finger inside her, feeding that desire and readying her for his possession. By the time he slid a second finger into her heat, she was breathing heavily and arching to his touch. Gillanders wanted to kiss her there, to taste her passion, but beat down the need for she was a virgin. Some of the things a man and woman could enjoy in bed would be a little too frightening for one who had never had a man. He would save that pleasure for later.
Shaking a little from the strength of his own passion, Gillanders settled himself between her legs as he kissed her. Slowly he eased into her and met the proof of her innocence. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he thrust deep inside, breaking through the barrier, and swallowed her soft cry of pain with his kiss. Sweat trickled down his spine as he held himself still so that she could adjust to the invasion, but he doubted he could hold still for long. He prayed the loss of her innocence had not killed all of her desire.
Murdina held tight to Gillanders as she caught her breath. The pain of the loss of her maidenhead was rapidly fading, an ache for more replacing it. She curled her legs around his lean hips, and he groaned, pressing his face against her throat. Murdina almost smiled, for she could sense his need as well as how fiercely he was fighting to control it. She shifted her hips, pulling him deeper into her body, and shivered with the pleasure of it.
“Has the pain eased?” he asked in a voice made hoarse with the fight to remain still.
“Oh, aye,” she whispered, and kissed him.
A heartbeat later he began to move, and Murdina gasped from the ferocity of the desire that flooded her. She knew some of that was from him, but her own body was savoring the joining, reaching out for the joy he could give her. A strange tightness began to build low in her belly as she moved into a perfect rhythm with him. It was the bliss her mother had told her about when she had reached the age to notice men. Murdina reached for it, shifting her body so that he filled her completely with every thrust of his strong body. When that tightness snapped she was flooded with a joy that was tinged with a delectable pain and cried out his name. Even as she sank beneath the waves of pleasure washing over her, she heard him call out her name and felt the warmth of his seed flood her womb.
Still reeling from what they had shared, she barely moved as he fetched a cloth to wipe the signs of her lost innocence off of them both. When he returned to her side and pulled her into his arms, she nestled as close to him as she could, savoring the warmth of him, even his scent. She loved the man, of that she had no doubt. It was why she had been ready to take the risk and give away her innocence despite no words of love. It hurt a little that he had not filled her ears with promises of a future and words of love, but she shook that aside. She would win his lo
ve and, if she did not, she would still cherish what they had shared.
“I tried to nay hurt ye, lass,” began Gillanders, rubbing his cheek against her hair.
“Ye didnae. T’was but a wee sharp pain that quickly faded.”
“Good. Rest now. We still have a long journey ahead and one that might be fraught with danger.”
“Because ye believe Sir Ranald will be chasing us.”
“Aye. I must believe that so that I remain vigilant.” He briefly tilted her face up to his, brushed a kiss over her mouth, and then tucked her face up against his neck. “Sleep. Ye, too, will need to be rested enough to remain vigilant.”
She closed her eyes and enjoyed the way he ran his fingers up and down her back. There was a pleasure to be found in resting skin to skin with this man, all desire sated, and peace surrounding them. Danger might be on their heels but, for this moment, she intended to bask in the sense of peace and contentment he gave her.
Gillanders stared down at the woman in his arms. Despite her innocence she had gifted him with a passion he had never tasted before. He knew what that meant, just as he knew what the urge to mark her that had nearly overcome him as they made love meant. This woman was his mate.
No one was certain why it was so, but MacNachtons did not just marry; they mated. They marked that mate on the neck, the one bite wound that never healed. He ached to see his mark on her pretty neck. Gillanders sighed and had to admit that, if he was not already in love with her, he was very close to it. With most people that would be enough, but she did not know the truth about him yet. It was going to be even harder to tell her now, for the fear that she would turn from him now ran deep. The mere thought of it clutched at his heart.
Born to Bite Bundle Page 88