by Alisa Adams
Even now there were those who still questioned the possibility of a child in the lowlands, arguing that there was no smoke without fire. Davina was going to fetch Maura from Blairmore, ostensibly to see new foals, but in fact to take her to see Una. Athol had stayed with Lyle that night and she had missed him more than she had thought possible. They had not spent a night apart since their wedding.
When she woke up that morning she reached for him instinctively, feeling a plunging sense of disappointment when he was not there. The bed had been cold; it was the first time she had ever had to put a hot stone in it. She was used to his strong arms around her and her back resting against the hard muscles of his chest keeping her warm. She was accustomed to his limbs tangling with hers, his strong, work-roughened fingers interlacing with her own, and the rasp of stubble against her cheek.
And best of all, when she opened her eyes, she would be looking into his warm hazel ones. That was the moment her heart overflowed with love and she kissed him with such passion that it became the fiercest kind of lovemaking. She would sit astride him and dig her finger fingers into his flesh, sometimes leaving bruises. Then he would use his strength to overpower her and when it was time for them to join together he would thrust himself inside her, sometimes painfully. Her climax was always fierce. Afterward, they would lie for a while, breathless in each other’s arms before breakfast and the business of the day began. On such a day she felt strong and invigorated.
Now, she ran her hands over the pillow, which would usually be dented with the warm imprint of his head after he got out of bed. Today it was cool, smooth, and empty. Davina got up and scribbled a note to Una telling her where she was going and when she would be back, then she left with such swiftness that the thundering noise of her horse's hoof beats could still be heard a quarter of a mile away.
When she dismounted in the courtyard of Lyle's house, she went straight into the dining room, knowing that Athol would be at breakfast. She was right. He was sitting with Grant, Lyle, Callum, Maura and Finella, laughing and chatting as they ate. Maura was the only silent one. Athol looked up as soon as she came in and welcomed her with a wide, glowing smile. He strode over to her and enfolded her in his arms.
"I've missed you," he whispered into her ear.
"I missed you too," she murmured. "The bed was so cold!"
"My lovely wife is complaining because her bed was not warm enough last night." He laughed, and so did everyone else. "Neither was mine, sweetheart and somehow a hot stone has none of the charms of a warm woman."
"Come, sit and have something to eat, Davina," Finella invited, "Athol told us you might come. I am so glad you did."
"I came on a mission." Davina smiled. "It is my birthday on the first of August, which is on Thursday. Mother and I discussed it, and we would like to have a small party to celebrate. I wondered if Maura and Grant could delay their departure just one more week so that they can attend." She smiled at them. "Please? I would love it if you would stay with us for a few days as well."
Grant beamed. "Of course, we will!" he exclaimed with childlike delight, "this is wonderful!"
Maura smiled and put out a hand to grasp Davina's. "Thank you, Davina," she said graciously. Davina resisted the urge to yank her hand from Maura's hold, but she answered the smile with a cold, hard look of her own.
Maura's smile faded.
"I wanted to show Maura some of our new foals, they are so pretty." Davina squeezed Maura's hand so tightly she could see the pain on her face. "You would like that, would you not, Maura?"
Maura looked up and trembled at the dangerous light in Davina's eyes. The pressure on her hands still had not abated. "That would be wonderful," she replied trying to sound happy, but her hand was now beginning to tremble.
"Good! We will go as soon as we have finished breakfast." Davina began to help herself to haggis, black pudding and eggs, then asked the men what they were doing that morning.
"Men's things," Athol answered, eyes twinkling. "We may swim, play chess, drink whiskey…"
"You are coming back tonight, then Athol?" Davina asked, her voice uncertain.
"Grant and I will come. One night away from you is enough." Athol smiled. "I could not stand another one!" His voice sank to a whisper.
"And I have something very important to tell you."
"So sweet," Finella said, her voice filled with old-fashioned rapture.
After Davina had a little breakfast and everyone had said goodbye, Davina and Maura mounted up then set off. With them was a tall, strapping man at arms, whom Athol had said was for their protection.
"Davina did not come with any protection," Maura said, baffled.
"But you have more enemies than she does," Athol replied silkily.
Out of sight of the house, Davina ordered a halt. She took from her saddlebag a length of rope and proceeded to tie Maura's hands with it. "Why are you doing this?" Maura asked, outraged. "I gave you my word—"
Davina let out a peal of laughter. "Maura, your word is like the waste we empty into the cesspool every day. It is worthless and stinking."
Maura was silent.
"The best thing you can do with your word is to keep it inside your mouth." Davina was trembling with anger. "Whatever you say is bound to be a lie anyway." She looked at her former friend with derision. "Keep your mouth shut until we get to my house. My mother is waiting to talk to you there. And Maura—"
Maura looked across at her.
"No more lying," Davina said her voice loaded with menace. "You have no idea how much I can make you suffer if you lie to me."
Looking into Davina's eyes, Maura was scared to death. This was not the Davina she had known and disrespected before and whatever Davina had in mind, she was serious about it. This was one predicament from which Maura could not extricate herself. Maura looked over at the big man on her left and he glanced back at her with expressionless eyes.
There was no escape from this.
Una came out to meet them when they got back to Craiglochan. She hugged Davina while looking over her shoulder at Maura, who was struggling to dismount from her horse because of her tied hands. Eventually, Una ordered the soldier to help her and she walked over to them, looking at the ground.
"Good morning, milady." She curtsied to Una who ignored her. Davina took her arm none too gently and followed her into the castle. There was a warm fire in the parlor but only two chairs, in which Una and Davina sat.
"You may sit on the floor or stand." Una's voice was simmering with barely-controlled rage as she looked at Maura. "You have only come here to be interrogated, otherwise you would not be welcome under this roof at all. Do you understand?"
Maura's anger flared. "Madam, when I was here before I came as your daughter's guest, by invitation," she spat, "I was a model of propriety."
"Except when you lay with my future husband in one of our bedrooms," Davina said reasonably, "that was not courteous or polite, was it, Maura? Not much of a model of anything, is it?"
Maura's cheeks flamed. She was beaten and she knew it.
"I told you that the time for lies is over, Maura," Davina said firmly. "I will have admissions of guilt from you about a number of things. If not, the only place you will be living in this castle which you coveted so much is the dungeon."
"Grant will want to know where I am," Maura's voice was shaking.
"Then regrettably we will have to tell him the truth," Davina stated. "That his wife is a murderer, a poisoner, a blackmailer, slanderer, and who knows what else? It will hurt him very much, but I doubt you care about that. He was just a means to an end, was he not?"
Maura sank onto the floor and, hugging her knees, began to sob bitterly. Davina felt dreadful. Her captive may have been all the vile things of which Davina had accused her, but it was not in her nature to be so cruel and she hated herself for it. She hardened her heart by reminding herself that this was her father's killer. This evil woman had murdered her dear father who should have been at her weddin
g, and perhaps her son's or daughter's baptism. But for the intervention of Elisaid her mother might have died too.
No, she thought, I will not give in. She will suffer as we have suffered.
"Where did you get the arsenic?" Una asked.
Maura looked up. If she had expected a softening of Una's flinty expression she was disappointed. There was such hatred in Una's face that Maura had to look away.
"My lover got it for me," she confessed, "he is Ewan Taggart, former Laird of Doon, who now works for Lyle's father."
"And where did he get it?" Una was relentless.
"It is a common ingredient of many things," Maura replied, "some not even harmful. He got it from an apothecary, who knew nothing of this."
"And how did you poison me?" Una asked, "arsenic again?"
Maura's voice was almost impossible to hear and Una had to ask her to speak up. "It worked the first time," she answered, putting her hands over her eyes.
"Are you satisfied with what you did?" Davina asked. "Are you even sorry?"
"I am sorry," she lied, looking up into Davina's eyes, and Davina saw with some satisfaction that Maura was shaking.
"I doubt that somehow. Are you cold?" she asked softly. Maura nodded and Davina squatted down beside her. "Do you know how much my father suffered? And my mother? Do you know how much anguish you caused Athol and me?" She bent down close to Maura. "Well, you can sit there and shiver, my dear. Neither of us cares. You will have a bad headache and be staying here tonight; I have sent a message to Athol. Your door will be locked with a guard outside, and you can count yourself lucky you are not in the dungeon."
77
Making Love
"Now you must eat." Davina's voice was like flint. "I will not be responsible for starving you to death, but I will kill you if I have to, baby or not."
Maura was hugging herself and there were tears running down her cheeks. Davina was suffering almost as much. She could not believe she was bullying and humiliating another human being. She hated Maura even more for bringing her to this pass. Una could not dredge up an ounce of sympathy. This was the woman who had killed the love of her life. If someone had given her a knife at that moment she would have plunged it into Maura's heart, twisted it and smiled while she was doing it.
"We should feed her," Una conceded, then she hauled Maura roughly to her feet. For good measure, she spat in her face then slapped her forwards and back on her cheek.
Maura cried out, putting her fingertips on the sore spot, then began to weep again. Una swept past her with a noise of deep disgust then marched into the dining room. They sat down to a mostly silent lunch, but no-one ate much anyway.
Afterward, Una and Davina felt so drained that they went for a sleep in Una's room, at her request. "I liked it when we kept each other warm," she said contentedly, snuggling down in the bed with Davina behind her.
Maura had been installed in her own bedroom with the door locked and a large man-at-arms standing outside. The maids had been instructed not to disturb her. She lay inert, neither thinking nor feeling. It was over. Now God alone knew what was going to happen to her.
"I have to get some fresh air." Una was restless and nervous, pacing around the parlor and drinking more wine than was good for her.
"I will come with you," Davina offered. Una shook her head.
"Thank you, darling, but I need some time on my own to think," she replied. She collected a warm cloak and wrapped it around herself, then walked the short distance to Davina's stables.
It was late afternoon and still full daylight, but sometimes she and Mungo could only meet at night time in the dark. They had to snatch chances to be together unseen, for if they had been found out both of them would suffer, but Una especially. A woman's reputation was a very fragile thing. But Una was past caring. She was hopelessly, head over heels, in love with Mungo and he with her.
They had never crossed the line; the furthest they got were passionate kisses and caresses above their clothes, but soon it would not be enough. They were both frustrated. It had to end or they could become lovers or they could marry.
When Una got to the stables Mungo sneaked her into a storeroom that he had emptied solely for the purposes of their liaisons. It was only just big enough for them to lie down in, but Mungo had spread a straw mattress there with half a dozen blankets and Una had brought a great feather pillow from the castle. They were quite snug.
Mungo began to kiss her as soon as she lay down, but she allowed only a few before she stopped him. "Have you had a good day?" she asked.
"Aye, but noo I'm havin' an even better ane!" He laughed, then stopped as he realized she was not joining in. "You havenae, I see'," he murmured. "Tell me aboot it. maybe I can help."
She sighed wearily, then began to unwind and tell him all about the interview with Maura, the appearance of the lairds, and her subsequent confessions. "She is a fiend," she said when she had finished, then she burst into tears.
Mungo held her against himself. Her body was shaking with sobs and though he felt desperately sorry for her he was also becoming aroused. At last, she stopped, then looked up at him, smiling through tears.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I did not mean to put this load on your shoulders. But sometimes I need someone to talk to. Davina, Athol and just about everyone else are all involved. Anyway, you are my loving friend."
"Aye," he sighed, looking at the ceiling and frowning. "But we might have tae end that friendship soon, hen."
"Why?" She sat up and looked down into his china-blue eyes.
* * *
"Because I cannae staun it ony mair." He turned his gaze away from her. "Ye're sae bonny an' I jist want tae kiss ye a' day an I cannae dae it ony mair. I'm a man. I need mair than kisses. I'm sorry."
"You mean you want us to be more than loving friends?" She stroked his cheek and looked into his eyes. He nodded. Una didn't even think about it. She kissed him fiercely and heard his indrawn breath and groan of pleasure, then she pushed her hands underneath his shirt.
He pushed her away and looked at her in disbelief. "Una, ye cannae dae this," he protested huskily, "I am a servant an' you are a lady."
Una shook her head. "When we are together like this," she murmured, "I am just a woman and you are just a man. And we want each other, do we not?" Then she said what she had been longing to say since their first kiss. "I love you, Mungo." The words were like a caress, and he closed his eyes, savoring them like a sweet scent.
"I love you an' a', lass," he whispered, "very, very much."
"Do you think it's dreadful of me?" Una asked. She was still running her hands over his skin, "Ruaridh has not been dead long." It was soft except for the slight rasp of his chest hair, but there was nothing soft about the rigid and unyielding muscle underneath.
"Are ye happy, Una?"
"Yes," she sighed. "So happy."
"Then how can ye ask that?" He smiled, loving the feeling of her soft hands exploring his body. He pulled her down for another kiss and lifted his hips up to meet hers. Then, abruptly, he stopped. "I dinnae want tae get ye wi' child," he said, frowning with concern.
"I am past all that," she sighed. "I have had so many miscarriages, one stillbirth and only one live child. Ruaridh and I did not conceive once in the last five years. I am past childbearing, my love. Be at ease."
He cupped her breasts in his hands. She was still clothed, but that could not be helped; there was no time for dressing and undressing. She lay back on the straw and he pushed his hose down to his ankles. she wrapped her legs around his hips and soon felt his manhood easing inside her.
It was glorious, and soon she was looking into his eyes, begging for fulfilment. When it came, wave after exquisite wave of it, she wept with joy, her body shuddering against his. Mungo could not believe it was happening. Here he was, a glorified stable hand, making love to a noblewoman who owned a great estate, her soft breasts pressing against him, driving him mad with desire. He had never felt like this before, not ev
en in his youth when he had been potent and strong. His climax was fierce, but then he saw the tears running down her cheeks.
"Lass, what's wrong?" He was pulling his hose up again. "Did I hurt ye?"
"No," she smiled through her tears. "No, darling. These are tears of happiness. I had forgotten how good it was to be loved."
"I had an' a'," he admitted. "There has been naebody for me since before I went tae jail." He gathered her into his arms. They lay in contented silence for a while, then Una sighed.
"I have to go," she groaned, "Davina will be wondering where I am." She stood up, and he looked at her lovingly as she straightened her dress and tidied herself. "We must find somewhere better than this." Una laughed as Mungo helped her to pick pieces of straw out of her hair. "I look like a scarecrow."
"Naw ye don't, lass. Ye look like a lady who has jist been loved." He smiled at her. "An' that is jist whit ye are." He kissed her one last time before she left. He had to. He couldn't help himself.
The smile she bestowed on him was radiant. She parted from him with great reluctance and felt bereft as soon as she got back to the castle, which seemed so big and empty. The bed was empty too. With its cold crisp ironed sheets and perfectly laundered pillowcases, it was pristine, beautiful and sterile. But oh, how she missed the warmth and scent of another human being. She was unable to sleep that night and ordered a cup of valerian tea to help her, then she imagined Mungo's arms around her, and she finally drifted off, contented.
78
Another Death
Davina had been searching for Una for half an hour before she saw her coming in the main gate. "Where have you been?" she demanded, "Grant and Athol have just arrived, starving as usual. Mother, you have straw in your hair." Then she froze. "Have you been at the stables, Mother?" Davina asked frowning with suspicion.