by Mary Wine
Gahan jumped when she moved so suddenly, his huge body jerking off the bed as he pushed her to the side of the bed away from the door. He reached for something leaning against the wall, and she realized it was his sword.
“What is it, Moira?” he asked as he swept the room twice with his gaze before looking back at her.
“I fell asleep.” The moon was still only part of the way across the window, telling her most of the night was yet to come.
He released his sword. “Aye, as did I.” His attention dropped to where her chemise was still gaping open to expose her breasts. “But I am nae complaining about being roused.”
She pulled up the fabric, earning a frown from him. “We’ll be discovered,” she said.
“Good.” He began to pull on the lace that closed his boots. In their haste, he had never removed them.
“It is nae good.” She stood up.
Gahan reached over and struck a flint against iron. Sparks dripped down to a pile of tinder, giving birth to a flame. The orange-red light illuminated his face, the hard features striking her as solid. He held a candle over it until its wick caught. Warm golden light washed over him, gifting her with a full view of just how perfect his body was, as well as how strong it was. There wasn’t a single bulge of fat on him, and every muscle was hard. There was something savage about him, but it served only to enhance his appeal. She shivered and hugged herself.
He stood up and held the candle over the bed. A dark stain marked the sheet.
“Deception is nae good, Moira. Let us be discovered, and let yer brother and Achaius receive what they are due for insisting on the farce that is yer marriage.”
His tone was just as solid as his body.
“To what end?” She stooped down and picked up her undergown and shrugged into it.
“The end of yer marriage, to begin with.” He placed the candle on a table and stood up. But he didn’t seem concerned with his lack of clothing. Instead, he began to close the distance between them.
“Everyone will say ye stole the wife of one of yer vassals.” She lifted her overgown and put it on, but there was no way to close it because the ties were down the back.
“Achaius is nae yer husband,” Gahan growled and pointed at the stained sheet.
“Neither are ye. So if we are discovered, I will be shamed, yet rightfully so.”
He was the son of the Earl of Sutherland. Allowances would be made for his lustful wanderings. Horror filled her as she realized what she had forgotten in the grip of passion. It had been so simple, so very much like being enchanted. But reality was hard and full of consequences. He was the earl’s son, and as such, he would not be alone.
She turned in a circle, looking into the darkened corners of the chamber. Off to one side was a doorway leading to another room enclosed in blackness. “Where is he? Yer captain? Ye are never alone.”
“Sometimes I am.”
She looked back at Gahan in relief, but his hard expression didn’t put her at ease.
“Cam stayed outside the door until we fell asleep.”
“But he is here now.”
And the man knew full well that they had been enjoying bed sport.
Gahan reached for his shirt and shrugged into it. “With yer brother in this tower? I doubt me captain would leave me even if I ordered him to.”
The shirt had been draped over the arm of a chair, and Gahan’s kilt was no longer lying on the floor but pleated and waiting for him on a side table. A shiver went down her spine. Cam had been in here. Moira looked back at the side door, blinking several times as her eyes showed her what she had already known to be true. Gahan’s captain stood there, partially hidden in the shadows. He didn’t look at her, but her cheeks burned scarlet anyway.
She turned to leave, but Gahan captured her wrist and pulled her back to him.
“Ye do nae have to return to Achaius.” His embrace was solid and tempting. But Moira knew the sun would rise, and with it, the harsher side of life.
“I won’t be another link in the chain. Bari wants to fight with ye so badly, and he will if I don’t go through with this. Sandra was very important to him, and I share blood with him. ’Tis something I cannae change.”
His expression turned stony. “Did ye know about the poison?”
“Nay.” He was weighing her answer, his dark eyes glittering with the need for justice.
She sighed then pushed away. She wanted to think she was leaving to protect his good name, but the truth was she couldn’t bear to see the suspicion in his eyes. It tore a hole in the trust that had grown between them, sweeping away the confidence that had seen her sharing his bed. Which left her no reason to stay.
None at all.
***
Cam spoke. “I do nae think the lass cared for how long ye considered her answer.”
“Keep talking, and I’ll smash ye in the jaw, Cam.”
His brother grinned, but Gahan wasn’t in the mood to jest. He turned around, feeling like the walls were closing in on him. It took every last bit of discipline not to go after Moira. But the stained sheet was a glaring reminder of her.
She shouldn’t be so important.
The words and the idea that she mattered to him didn’t sink in; they just crossed his mind before disappearing. He tugged the sheet free and folded it.
“What are ye planning to do with that?”
“Keep it.” Gahan lay back down. “And do nae ask me why, because ye already know that I do nae understand why. Only that it is going to Dunrobin, and I will never tell Moira I am sorry you are witness to how it was stained.”
“She’s right. If ye show that to anyone, there will be talk of yer stealing from a vassal,” Cam warned. “As well as making it public.”
“Exposing deception is nae a thing to be avoided. That’s why we are here, to prove Bari Fraser is the villain we know him to be.”
Cam grabbed the sheet and handed it to another retainer. “Somehow, I think that reasoning will gain ye naught but grief as well.” He pinched the candle out then returned to the second chamber to get some sleep.
At least someone would sleep, but Gahan doubted he would. He hadn’t needed to hear Cam softening toward Moira. It was too close to his own feelings for her. He grunted and punched the pillow.
He didn’t have feelings for her.
She was a Fraser.
But her scent still lingered, and the echo of her soft cries as he’d pleasured her followed him into slumber.
***
Everything was quiet when she climbed the stairs back to the chamber where Achaius slept. She entered the rooms provided by Saer McLeod. The small receiving portion of the chambers had a single candle burning for her. The retainers had lain down near the curtains that separated the receiving room from the bedchamber. They were thick, wool ones that stretched from ceiling to floor to provide privacy. The retainers were lying across the floor to prevent anyone from crossing into their laird’s bedchamber without stepping over them. They had the portion of their kilt that was draped over their right shoulder raised to cover their heads and keep them warm throughout the night.
But they’d wake if she walked past them and opened the door.
A reckless urge to do so rose up inside her. She didn’t even want to fight it. Frustration with her current predicament threatened to help her make sure the retainers knew how late she was returning.
At least it would be an end to her sham of a marriage.
But there would also be an end to Bari’s civil behavior.
A curtain was pulled aside on the side of the room. Another candle burned inside a tiny alcove. A cot took up most of the space. It was intended for a groom or a captain, but the candle had been left there for her.
Her husband’s retainers didn’t expect her to join Achaius.
It wasn’t an uncommon thing. Especially among noble unions. Her cheeks stung with a blush as she realized just how relieved she was. It was wrong, but it felt so wonderful.
She
let the curtain fall over the doorway and lay down. The ropes strung through the wooden frame of the cot groaned and needed a good tightening, but the bedding smelled fresh enough. She pinched out the candle and tried to sleep.
Her thoughts were churning, but at least she was alone. It was a small mercy, but she was grateful for it. Dawn would be soon enough to deal with reality.
***
Achaius opened his eyes when his captain stirred. The man rolled over and settled back into sleep. The fire was only a bed of coals now, a faint red glow coming from them. His toes were still warm, and he grinned as he realized his wife had returned. Beyond the curtain, he watched the faint light go out.
Yes, his young wife had returned. In the darkest hours of the night too. There was only one reason for that.
He savored the victory, his mind full of the opportunity it afforded him. As soon as he was sure her belly was full, he’d let his captain tell Bari of the lovers’ secret. The Fraser laird was no match for Sutherland’s bastard. Gahan was a bear of a man and much harder than Bari. The moment Bari gave him a cause, Gahan would snap his neck.
Achaius grinned and chuckled. It would be perfect, and he would have the Fraser land. A laird was only as good as the profit he gained for his clan. It was the Highland way.
***
Moira was sore the next morning.
She noticed it the moment she sat up. Deep inside her passage, she ached. But the gray light of dawn was welcome because her sleep had been fretful. She fingered her underrobe, contemplating the thoughts that had troubled her sleep. She was torn between the need to be truthful about Gahan and her sham of a marriage, and the very real threat of giving her half brother what he wanted: a reason to feud with Sutherlands, not to mention with the Mathesons alongside him. Perhaps truth was supposed to be the only path a true heart should walk, but she just couldn’t stomach the price.
She could do little more than drag herself out of bed and pat her hair down before pushing the curtain open.
“There ye are,” Achaius remarked.
“Good morning, Husband,” she said dutifully. The bright light of day reminded her of all the reasons why she needed to please Achaius.
“That cook must have taken impossibly long with the cider,” Achaius said, laughing. “No doubt because her laird is nae a man who enjoys his comforts. She’s out of practice in brewing up such things.”
Achaius’s gillie was tending to his master with the help of two other youths. The first one directed his dressing, and one brought forward a large, polished brass mirror for Achaius to see himself in.
“Get yerself ready to ride,” Achaius said as he inspected his appearance. “We’ve two days of riding before making Sutherland. It will be the ground for beds tonight.”
Moira let out a breath when Achaius did not pursue the subject of her late return, and for the first time in her life she was grateful to hear there would be no warm bed to climb into at sunset. No walls meant Gahan could not surprise her in dark hallways.
She knew her thoughts were cowardly, but it was better to admit it than allow herself to be in a position to fall under his spell again.
***
Dunrobin was far, far in the North.
On the journey, the rivers they crossed still had ice in them, and the going had been further slowed by mud. Snow still lingered under trees and on the shady sides of slopes, but much of it was melting and making the ground difficult to traverse.
Soon the roads would be filled with merchants moving about to sell what they had crafted during the winter. Only a few of the fields were turned, the nights still too cold for planting.
But construction had commenced on the castle.
When they neared the village that surrounded the castle, the sound of hammers and picks filled the air. Wagons with their beds weighed down with stone made a slow but steady trek up to the new building. Three large cranes were in position, and it looked like well over two hundred men were working on a new section of the castle. The road was packed hard from the constant traffic.
Dunrobin Castle was already massive. There were three tall towers and two older ones, short and square. The newer ones were round, to make them harder to hit with war machines. A thick curtain wall connected them all, and the back of it dropped off to the ocean.
The prosperity of the Sutherlands was clear. Gahan pulled up and turned his horse so he might make eye contact with Bari as her brother got a good look at Dunrobin. Some might have accused Gahan of appearing arrogant, but Moira decided he was justified.
Bari was a fool to trifle with a clan like the Sutherlands, especially when he did not have to. Sandra had been a beauty and had many suitors, but she’d set her sight on one who didn’t care for her. Greed was deadly.
Bari stiffened and rode straight for the entrance of the curtain wall. The wall would double the size of the inner yard. The castle would be huge, and she doubted even the English king had such a fine fortress.
She expected the Sutherland retainers to take their horses toward the stable, but they continued on into the inner yard. The earl stood on the steps of the largest keep, his face set into a frown. Next to him was a younger man, one every bit as toned as Gahan, but with light hair. Gahan climbed the stairs to talk to him. They had a heated debate, which the lighter-haired man clearly lost. He nodded at last, then turned and spoke to the retainers guarding his back. There was a shift and then a snarl as a petite woman with a swollen belly was guided away.
She didn’t go before shooting a scathing glance at the blond-haired man.
“Ye did nae have to send yer wife away, Norris Sutherland,” Bari declared.
The blond-haired man clenched his hands into fists. “Ye were made welcome here last season, and ye betrayed that trust. I promise ye one thing, Bari Fraser, ye will nae get another chance to harm any member of me family.”
Bari hesitated, fighting the urge to argue. The muscles in his neck corded, and many stopped what they were doing to stare at the standoff. But he finally ducked his chin and lowered himself in front of the earl and his son, Norris. “I’m here to make amends for me sister’s actions.”
Neither Norris nor Gahan looked impressed. The retainers behind them moved in closer.
“Aye, it’s true,” Achaius said as he made his way up the stairs. “I won’t be having traitors in me family. Since I wed Laird Fraser’s younger sister, I insisted he come here to smooth over this difficulty.”
“Ye wed his sister? And come here after the fact?” Norris Sutherland asked incredulously. “That is nae how ye prove yer intent to be a good vassal.”
Achaius made it to the top of the stairs and took a moment to catch his breath. Norris wasn’t going to give the man time, but his father held up a hand. Achaius reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet before performing a shaky reverence. One of his men caught his elbow to help him straighten back up.
“At my age, ye do nae go to sleep at night and assume ye will be granted another day to enjoy life. For my impatience, I offer ye an apology. Yer father will likely understand me better than ye, young Norris,” Achaius admonished the heir to the earldom with a note of glee. “I’ve always been a bit of a fool for a sweet lass.”
Norris looked past Achaius to Moira. His gaze was much like Gahan’s, sharp and knowing. “She could be yer granddaughter,” Norris declared bluntly.
Achaius didn’t look ashamed. “Marriage is for begetting children. I need a young, healthy lass for that. I’m looking forward to seeing her belly as round as yer own wife’s.”
“Let us take this to me private chamber,” the earl decided.
His sons didn’t agree. Both Gahan and Norris glared at Bari suspiciously. Their father turned and walked into the keep. Both Matheson and Sutherland captains followed, as did many of the retainers.
Once most of the men moved inside, Moira sighed, realizing it was the first moment of peace she’d had in days. There was a great deal of activity in the yard. Younger boys were leading t
he horses away, while the retainers who had ridden with Gahan greeted their families. There were squeals from children being lifted high in their fathers’ arms.
“The men have their minds occupied with dark thoughts they need to settle with the earl, and since the mistress was sent away, that leaves welcoming ye to me, my lady.”
Moira turned to see an older woman standing behind her. She wore an overgown of fine wool, and a ring of keys was secured to her belt. Moira lowered herself.
“I am Asgree, the head of house at Dunrobin, and ye owe me no deference, Lady Matheson.”
“I am simply Moira. My mother was common-born.”
“Still, ye are wed to a laird.” The older woman studied her for a moment. She snapped her fingers, and a young gillie came quickly to her side. “Perhaps ye would like to bathe?”
Just the mention of the word made her tremble. The gillie tugged on his knitted bonnet, then extended his arm out for Athena. She let him take the hawk, the idea of a bath too much to resist.
“I did nae see any clothing packed for ye.”
“Nae.” Moira followed the head of house into the keep. Maids in livery lined up as their mistress passed, and then followed behind. Each one wore a linen cap and apron.
“It is just as well. Yer gown is too light for Sutherland. Alice? Go find something warm enough for Lady Matheson.”
The maid fixed her with a keen, knowing look that sized Moira up before the maid turned and mounted a set of stairs without a single question.
She didn’t feel like Lady Matheson. What ye are is Gahan’s lover, she thought. Well, that wasn’t entirely true either. One liaison did not make them lovers. Sinners, to be sure, but nothing else.
Asgree led her into a bathhouse built alongside the kitchens. The window shutters were open to allow the fresh air in.
“The light will be gone soon, but we’ll stoke up the fire if ye wish to wash yer hair,” Asgree told her.
Two maids were already working at the hearth. One added a thick log while another picked up a bellows and used it to fan up the flames. The log crackled and popped as it caught. The room was soon warm as a summer day.