by Wine, Mary
One of the captains stood and took command of the blessing. The maids began to carry out the food as conversations began once more. It was still hushed as the men ate and eyed her while chewing. Cora had taken too many meals to count at head tables, yet she struggled to remain poised and collected. Brynna stood behind her, acting as the perfect lady’s companion.
And the meal lasted forever.
By the end of it, Cora was certain she’d aged an entire year. Her belly was only half full, but she stood and left the hall.
But she didn’t get far. Waiting in the passageway were women who had come to have her decide issues that pertained to the female members of the clan. Debates over dowry portions and handfasting. Nothing so grand as money, but in the highlands, a pair of hens was cause for discord. Arguments over wages for girls who had served in houses in the village and an accusation of sour milk having been sold in the village market.
She didn’t climb the stairs to her chamber until the sun was going down.
Will he come then? To join ye?
Cora discovered herself grateful for the matters that had kept her busy for the afternoon, for her doubts hadn’t had the opportunity to prick at her.
Strange how she’d always raged against measuring herself by men’s standards, and now, she discovered herself very worried that Faolan wouldn’t consider her performance in bed to be something he’d be interested in sampling again.
Or when no one would be checking.
“Thank ye, Brynna.”
Brynna lowered herself before she left for the night. One floor down, the area was divided into four chambers. Cora had given one to Brynna when there was a small sleeping closet in the receiving room, which Noreen’s own companion had been expected to occupy. There were many who wanted a witness to the most intimate moments between a laird and wife. Such things assured there would be no grounds to be sent back to her father for failing to conceive when the husband had never bedded her.
Faolan wouldn’t lie.
But that doesn’t mean he’ll seek ye out…
She really should dismiss such doubts. Faolan had carried her from the hall because he was so eager to share her bed.
He’s had ye now… Men seek new conquests.
Cora couldn’t hide from that truth. She’d heard many, many things she shouldn’t have in the passageways of the Mackenzie stronghold. Without a mother to see to her being closeted, Cora had learned the conversation would flow so long as she was hidden.
Perhaps that had not been the wisest choice.
Now she recalled how often husbands snuck into the storerooms with other men’s wives. She’d heard the maids confiding in one another about the names of the fathers of their children.
Aye, well ye also saw that same look in Faolan’s eyes as he said he’d have ye…
Cora suddenly felt her spirits lift. That was true. She’d witnessed the gleam in the eyes of lovers as they met. The anticipation and the zeal with which they hurried away together.
“Tonight I will have ye, Cora, for no one will ever again have cause to doubt that ye are mine.”
He’d taken her like a lover.
Cora felt her checks warm only this time, she smiled and enjoyed it. She went to her bed but didn’t put the lanterns out.
*
Una watched the passageway.
The sun had set an hour ago. Which meant the time was coming close. Her patience paid off when there was a soft patter on the stone floor. The maid she’d left to watch for the laird was in stocking feet, so Faolan wouldn’t hear her running. She stopped at the end of the passageway and stretched her arm above her head to signal to Una.
“It’s time,” Una said to her companions.
One of the other women snapped her fingers at the two boys who slept in the bunks in the kitchen. They rolled over and pulled their plaids up and over their heads as they faced inward. Orla had set out fare for the laird and his men on the main worktable. Off to one side was a smaller workroom used during the day. Una and her companions went into it.
“Aye, it’s a fact the poor mistress looked exhausted,” Una exclaimed to one of the other women when she heard the men enter the main kitchen.
“Little wonder with how much blood there was on the sheet.”
“His body sculpted by God,” Una declared. “But likely his cock was created by the devil.”
“The mistress dropped off to sleep the moment the sun was set,” one of the women added.
“One can hope the laird has the decency to not trouble her too often.”
Una held up her hand. The women fell silent. They all grinned, for there was satisfaction in knowing they might affect the men around them. Men who believed themselves in charge of the world.
*
The women’s words carried into the kitchen. Yestin and Gainor tilted their heads to one side as they listened.
Faolan gritted his teeth. Frustration bit into him.
No, it was disappointment.
Yet, there was something else, too. A need to be protective. If Cora was sleeping, then he’d not be waking her. It wasn’t his blood that had been spilled, after all.
Yestin reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Faolan nodded, but he ventured into the archway that opened into the back room where the women were.
Una gasped when she saw him. “Evening, Laird.”
The other two women dropped him a quick courtesy before they all but ran from the room.
“I’m sorry if we disturbed yer dinner.”
“I’m more interested in yer conversation.”
Una’s hand flew up to cover her mouth. “We didn’t mean any harm. It’s just women talking about female things.”
Faolan stepped further into the workroom. He looked about to ensure they were alone. “Me mother is long dead, and I have no close female relatives. So…what I’m wondering is…how long…should I leave me wife be?”
Una drew in a deep breath.
“Forgive me, but I do nae know who else to ask, and I’d not see me wife suffering.”
He felt like a babbling fool, but the need to shelter Cora from pain was greater than his embarrassment.
“I see.” Una appeared to be trying to gather her composure.
“I’d be grateful for yer opinion on the matter….” Faolan made a motion with his hand. “Ye are?”
“Una, Laird.”
“Una,” Faolan said. “Ye are old enough to know me own mother was put out when I was fifteen. She never discussed marriage with me.”
“Yes, I remember,” she said. “As to the matter of yer wife, I suggest ye allow her to rest a bit.”
“How long is a bit?” Faolan insisted on details.
“A few weeks.”
Faolan clamped his jaw down to contain the words which wanted to roll off his tongue. Curses were not appropriate for the kitchens.
“Thank ye, Una.”
“Um…ye may bring any other questions ye have on matters…to me.”
Faolan had started to turn around. He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Ye have me appreciation.”
Even if he had no liking for what Una had said.
Well laddie, ye have heard things ye did no’ like before…
Such was true, and he was man enough to demand he not sulk over the matter like a child. It was just a delay. Cora wouldn’t tell him herself. No, she was too proud of her strength. So, he’d have to protect her.
That’s what a husband does…
Aye, it was. Faolan took solace in that knowledge. Yestin and Gainor were still in the kitchen when he returned. The scent of cheese and meat drew a rumble from Faolan’s belly.
At least that was a hunger he might feed. In the distance, thunder began to rumble.
“At least the storm did no’ break until we made it back,” Yestin remarked.
“Aye,” Gainor agreed. “It will be a chilly night to be sure.”
Very chilly.
But Faolan didn’t trust himself to share a bed wi
th Cora and leave her untouched. He would have hoped he had the restraint, but the truth was, he doubted himself.
Another round of thunder filled the air.
Faolan grinned as he sat down on a stool to enjoy the meal. The air was growing colder, and he could hear the wind whipping the tree limbs.
A storm he understood.
It was a place he’d tested his mettle and built his strength.
In many ways, it was his truest home.
Tonight, he’d enjoy letting his inner beast free. It wasn’t what he’d planned on, but there was a satisfaction in knowing he had the strength to leave Cora sleeping. What he didn’t look too closely at was the memory of all the times he’d heard the whispers about himself.
He knew what was said about him.
Bastard born.
Tainted by his mother’s lack of self-control.
A man with the blood of the laird flowing through his veins, and yet, there was part of him that was considered less than worthy.
He was laird because the alternative was blood being spilled. It was sobering knowledge—the sort which might so very easily turn into doubts.
Well, it’s not the first time ye’ve had to rely on yerself, laddie…
No, it wasn’t.
Faolan climbed up to the top of the tower where his chamber was. It wasn’t the grandest chamber in the stronghold, but he had no taste for laying his head where Malcolm had slept.
Instead, he had a clear view of the gate and the road leading up to it.
And he could see where Cora slept.
There would be fresh linens on the bed, but he didn’t stop at the landing outside the doors of his chamber. For the moment, he was alone. The storm was raging just on the other side of the stone walls.
Yet, for part of him, that wasn’t close enough.
He pushed open a door, and the wind blew in. The door allowed him onto the curtain wall. The men on duty were huddled inside the gatehouse, which afforded him the opportunity to climb the last set of steps to the top of the tower.
Above him, the clouds were a swirling mass of blackness. Flashes of lightning were beginning to split them as thunder began to crack overhead. The wind was tearing at his kilt as drops of rain began to pelt him.
Faolan opened his arms wide to soak in the moment.
Half beast?
Aye.
He truly was.
*
“He’s taken ye as a confidant?” Gilmor asked incredulously.
Una smiled. “Once ye have the position ye crave, never forget that half of the clan is made up of women. And that many men will bend if it keeps their wives and mothers happy.”
Gilmor nodded. He was busy partaking of a plate of meat and cheese, which Una had brought with her. He suddenly frowned as he realized she’d plied him with the food, and he’d performed precisely as she’d anticipated.
A tingle touched his nape at being so very predictable.
“But will Faolan stay away from her bed?”
Una sat down on a bench and removed her linen cap. Noreen had insisted on those caps for the entire household in an effort to keep her husband from sampling the maids.
“He seems quite different from his brother, Malcolm,” Una remarked thoughtfully. “I suppose that is the blood of Faolan’s mother. She followed her heart. He appears to be much like her.”
Gilmor smiled. It was an unpleasant expression that made Una’s eyes widen.
“His mother died for allowing her heart to overrule everything else.”
*
Gilmor left with a giant smirk on his lips.
Una watched him go, a sensation of dread beginning to grow in her belly. Ambition was to men what love was to women. Gilmor might claim he’d happily stay a captain, but for many men, a sampling of power only whet their appetite for more.
She sighed. For there was naught to do. Blood was blood. Her fortune was shackled firmly to Gilmor. He was not wrong when he’d said her portion was less now that he was no longer a captain.
It was true.
Orla gave her the harder tasks now that the Head-of-House didn’t fear one of the laird’s captains hearing of how hard she toiled. Fewer of the maids were willing to help her finish her tasks now that there wasn’t as much to gain from her good favor. The small chamber she sat in might even be taken from her at any time when the Head-of-House needed it for someone with more influence.
Such was life.
And such was the reason she’d help Gilmor with his plan, for there was nothing else to do but give up hope.
*
Thunder woke Cora.
It boomed above her head. Lightning split the darkness wide open a moment later. It illuminated the empty place beside her.
She sat for a long moment before the rain began to plummet the side of the tower. She heard it hitting the closed window shutters. The wind was whipping the water through the air. More thunder filled the night.
Cora got up, the energy of the storm making it impossible to stay in bed.
Ye met Faolan on a night like this…
She had, and she suddenly wanted to see the wildness of the storm as well as hear it. Cora crossed the floor to the side of the tower that the wind wasn’t hitting. She worked the latch and opened the shutters inward.
Her reward was a view of the next bolt of lightning. It crackled across the mass of swollen clouds. The flash was bright and so vivid, it felt like it warmed the tip of her nose. A fine spray of water was making its way into her face as the wind came in the open shutters and tugged at her chemise.
Thunder boomed again, making her laugh. Something about the pure strength of the storm amused her. It seemed to touch that thing inside her that longed for complete freedom.
When the lightning came again, she was ready. Only this time, she gasped, for it illuminated Faolan.
Like the first time ye saw him…
The tower the laird’s chamber was in was close to hers. Faolan was on top of it, his arms stretched out wide, and his face tipped upwards. His kilt was flapping in the wind as the storm pelted him.
He was magnificent.
At that moment, he was stronger than any man she’d ever encountered. It was flesh and mind combining into someone she seemed drawn toward with such power, even thinking to resist was impossible.
She would have gone to him with no promise of tomorrow.
No assurances of anything at all.
And her empty bed was a torment she refused to endure.
Instead, she turned and pulled the door open and went out onto the landing. There was another door there, one which led out to the curtain wall. It was a place she didn’t normally dare go for it was the domain of men.
Tonight, she flung the rules aside.
It’s hardly the first time…
Cora smiled. The rain was cold but not icy. Her heart was hammering away inside her, warming her and sending her blood speeding through her. The wind whipped at her, but the rain soaked her chemise and hair so that they didn’t fly wildly about.
Faolan turned and caught sight of her before she’d made it more than a few steps. As lightning crisscrossed the sky, she felt his gaze latch onto her. The flash illuminated his teeth, and something tore through the constraints she kept contained deep inside herself.
It was the part of her nature no one approved of.
Except for Faolan…
She didn’t know for certain that he approved of her, but he gestured to her, motioning with his hand, beckoning her forward.
Cora began her walk. It was more intense than the moment when she’d gone to wed him. Felt more true to her nature than when she’d worn the silk dress or been stripped down to await him in bed.
*
She was truly a siren.
Faolan felt her song reaching out to wrap around him. It was carried in the howl of the wind and the clamor of the bare tree limbs beating against one another. The thunder rounded it out.
The beast inside him growled with a
nticipation.
Her chemise was stuck to her body. Showing him her tight, high breasts with beaded nipples. She came toward him, uncaring of the storm.
No. That wasn’t right.
The elements thrashing at them both fed her spirit. He saw it in the way she came to him. It was in her eyes as the lightning cracked open the sky and flashed across her.
She was mesmerizing.
Faolan felt the moment sucking him in. There was a bond between them. Perhaps it was better to call it an obsession, for he was certain he’d rather die than not reach for her.
*
Cora gasped as Faolan pulled her against his body.
He was warm.
He bound her to his length, wrapping her in the iron strength she’d come to associate with him. Now, it seemed to flow straight into her, delighting her in a way she’d never thought possible.
His kiss was hot.
And hungry.
He stroked his hands up her back to clasp her nape so he might hold her in place for his kiss. There was no soft toying with her. Instead, he took her mouth and demanded surrender.
Cora denied him that.
Instead, she met him with equal force, moving her mouth as determinedly as he did. He growled, and the sound was swept up in the wind to merge with the storm swirling around them. In that moment, she was half certain it was a manifestation of everything Faolan had freed inside her.
The thunder.
The wind.
The lightning.
It was all part of her need to be connected with him. There was no slowing down. Faolan pressed her back against the wall, picking her up, so she clasped him with her thighs. She’d never been so needy, never craved to be connected with another person so very greatly.
Never been so wanton.
But there was no thinking. There was only motion. Cora felt the need to move so intently, and there was no possibility of her mind overriding the impulse. She felt the head of Faolan’s member slipping between the folds of her sex. She was suddenly so eager to have him inside her, she tilted her hips up.
The first thrust stretched her. It wasn’t as bad as the first time, though. Her body seemed to remember how to take his length. The prickles of pain receded in the space of a breath, leaving her gasping at the sensation of being filled.