“Husband,” she greeted breathlessly.
The wine, he thought wryly. He’d never known a young woman to drink the way she did. Independence, it seemed, really could change a young and proper lass. Not that he was unhappy about it. She should enjoy herself, but there was a grain of disappointment. She never seemed that happy to see him.
“Wife,” he greeted. “‘Tis late.”
“Oh, stop. One of the wonderful things about Loch Moran is that I can come and go as I please. It was never a freedom I had in England, and one I do not plan to give up.”
“I wouldnae ask ye to give it up,” he said carefully. She clearly loved Loch Moran, and he wanted her to enjoy it as much as possible before they left. “But I was worried. With Jillian and Graeme both here, I am worried there will be trouble.”
She paused, considering his words, and nodded. “All right. I should have been considerate that I have a husband at home, though you are not usually waiting for me. As it happens, you have nothing to worry about. Jillian was with me all evening, and Graeme did not approach her.”
“Good.” Walking toward her, he slowly undid her cloak and hung it near the fire to let it dry from the mist outside. “Did ye enjoy yerself?”
“Aye. Vera much. Elizabeth joined us. It felt like old times again. Ye didnae stay out long.”
“No. There was something that I wanted more.” Leaning down, he brushed his lips across hers. “Ye need sleep.”
Her gaze was filled with need and hesitation. “Just sleep?”
“Aye.” He grinned, knowing full well what was going on in her head. “Unless ye want more.”
His hunger for her was overwhelming, but he knew she was shaken from her last encounter. He understood that all too well. He was shaken by it too, surprised by how desperately he wanted her and the fear that he would lose control and hurt her.
“Maybe,” she whispered, and rose on her toes for another kiss, “but not tonight. My head is swimming a bit.”
He wanted her to remember every minute of their first night together. “Then we will wait ‘til ye have a clear head. Do ye need anything before we retire?”
“More kisses.”
“There will be time for that.” Chuckling, he led her to the bed and helped her undo the buttons of her dress. It slipped from her shoulders, pooling by her feet. “Do ye want yer nightdress?” he asked as he started undoing the buttons on her shift.
Her chest heaved, and her breasts rose. Theo groaned and resisted slipping his fingers beneath the fabric to feel her and hear her moan.
“It would probably be safer,” she managed.
The buttons were undone, and he slipped the shift over her head. Aching, he almost asked her to undo her undergarments so he could see her naked just once, but he stepped back. As it was, she was already a vision, and he knew that waiting to see her naked tantalized him. After a moment, she hurried to her chest to gather her nightdress, and then turned her back to slip it over her head.
When she slipped her underthings off from beneath, his mouth went dry. She was coming to bed in only that flimsy fabric.
Not meeting his gaze, she slipped under the blanket on the bed and froze. Undressing, he joined her.
“You are naked,” she breathed.
“Aye, I sleep naked, but ye doonae have to worry. I just mean to hold ye and sleep.” However, it might very well kill him.
“Theo,” she whispered as she turned and put her hands on his chest. Her voice was still a little heavy from the wine, but he could sense that she was about to tell him something difficult. There was pain in her eyes, hurt that he wished he could ease. “My parents were cold and unfeeling. They cared only for money and status. I am nothing like them.”
“Aye, ye are a passionate one.”
“They both had lovers, and they both hated the other for it. Even still, when I was young, I accidentally walked in on my father, and I remember thinking that what I saw was not about affection but power. I shied away from you when I realized how easily you could control me through your touch.”
“Gemma.” Leaning over, he kissed her gently and rested his hand on her hip above the covers. “I have no wish to control ye. Simply to see ye safe.”
“I know, although I am still aggravated when you give me orders. The point is that I believe you. We do not have to be like our parents.”
He knew what she was saying. She wanted to assure him that he wouldn’t be like his father, just like she wasn’t like her parents. He desperately wished it could be true, but he couldn’t agree. She didn’t know the temper that could assail him or the damage he could do in a haze of anger. It was something he struggled with every day. Hamish was nothing like their father, but he hadn’t grown up with him. And Gemma, well, she was just like her name. A gem. He would never be so beautiful, inside or outside. He was a lump of clay, and feared his father had done too much to try to mold him.
“Go to sleep, Gemma,” he whispered. Soon, they would have to return to the keep, and maybe then, she would realize just what awaited them at home. She would see why he felt the say he did.
And then, with his father so close and the fearful MacDougals waiting to greet her, she might see the same monster that they saw.
12
The next morning, at the river, there were baskets of laundry; clothes covered in grime and filth. Gemma, along with the other women, had volunteered to do laundry for the guards, so there was nearly twice as much to do. The younger women helped dump out and refill the tubs with clean water while Gemma and the others used the scrubbing boards.
Gemma hated laundry day.
When Fletcher had dumped her here, she had no maid or cook. Since she grew up in a wealthy household, she had no experience with cleaning up after herself, or cooking. Some of the other families helped take care of her, and Gemma, in a fog, had assumed that soon she would be in a keep with servants. But when she got the first inkling that Fletcher had no desire to wed her immediately, she began to plot.
The others helped her learn to take care of herself, and she’d had every intention to run until she’d heard that Fletcher MacSeaver had wed another.
It had been exhilarating living on her own. All her life, she had been groomed to be married with no real skills.
It hadn’t occurred to her parents that she might wed in the harsh Highlands, where there was little class distinction. It thrilled her to watch people eat what she’d prepared, and to keep a home for herself, but laundry was backbreaking business. She did it out of obligation, but also because she loved to gossip with the women.
Next to her, Jillian, who’d insisted on helping, rinsed the clothes and hung them to dry. It had been easy enough to find accommodations for her since many of the cottages were empty. There had been too many lives lost in the battles for Loch Moran. Her neighbors remembered her kindness and were eager to help look after her.
This would be a good place for Jillian to settle. This was a community to help people, and she would bloom. She might even decide to marry, although Jillian didn’t talk much about her previous marriage; only that it was brief.
“Did you sleep well?”
“It might have been the first restful night of sleep I have gotten in months,” the widow admitted. “‘Tis so quiet here. No one was shouting outside my window, harassing me.”
Anger rose inside of Gemma. There were always people who enjoyed tormenting those they thought were weaker than them.
“There will be none of that here,” Gemma assured her.
“None of what?” a new voice asked.
At the sight of Graeme, Jillian gasped and whirled around. She would have fallen in the tub had he not reached out and steadied her. “Easy, lass,” he said in a low voice.
As Jillian paled, Gemma quickly reached out and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Around them, the other women had stopped and straightened, all keeping a close eye on what was happenning.
Graeme released her and looked around with a wry smile. “I
apologize for interrupting ye, ladies. I simply wanted to have a word with Jillian.”
“In private?” Gemma challenged as she crossed her arms over her chest.
“No, ‘tis not necessary, unless she would like to answer my questions in private.”
“What questions?” Jillian asked quietly.
“Ye are seeking sanctuary from the MacSeavers. I wish to know the details.”
“I...” She looked at Gemma, who realized that Jillian was embarrassed and did want to speak to him alone.
Elizabeth, having watched the scene quietly, now quickly elbowed her way into the thick of things. That was Elizabeth, boldly acting with little fear.
“Has it occurred to ye that she might not want to talk to a MacSeaver, especially one that is to be heir?” she demanded.
Graeme frowned. “I havenae been there recently—”
“Nay!” Elizabeth snapped. “Ye havenae. Ye have been here when yer own people might have need of ye!”
“Elizabeth,” Jillian said quickly, paling. The young woman was challenging Graeme’s leadership skills, and no good would come of that. She glanced at Gemma.
“It is all right,” Gemma told her. “We will be right here if you need us.” The sooner Graeme was mollified, the sooner he might leave them alone.
Jillian and Graeme walked a little further away, and Gemma stared the whole time. She knew what it was like to be harassed by a man when others were still so close. At the insufferable parties in London, she could be dancing with someone in the middle of a crowd while he tormented her with lewd suggestions or threats if she didn’t take his hand in marriage.
None had worked on her, but then, she hadn’t been exposed to months and months of harassment.
From what she could see, Graeme didn’t say a word as he listened but nodded from time to time. Finally, he scowled, murmured something to her, and walked away.
Quickly, Gemma and Elizabeth hurried to their friend. “Are you all right?” Gemma asked anxiously.
“Graeme MacSeaver is just like the rest of the MacSeavers,” Jillian snarled, “but he assures me that he wilnae interfere with my quest for sanctuary so long as Fletcher doesnae ask him too. I think ‘tis more likely that he doesnae want me telling his uncle that he is here rather than looking for a bride.”
“Are you worried that he will bother you while he is here?” Elizabeth turned and glared at the man’s retreating back. “Honestly, laundry day is sacred. What was he thinking interrupting us?”
“Nay. Graeme is likely to ignore me. He blames me for what happened to my husband, and that is fine. I prefer the ignoring to the harassment, but he likes to throw his weight around. ‘Twould have been better for him not to realize that I was here at all. He would have forgotten me in time, but that could still be the case. How long is he going to be here?”
“That I doonae know, but Theo wilnae suffer his presence for long.” Gemma sighed. “Come, once we finish the washing, we can take a break and walk through the flower fields near the loch. The sun is sure to help us forget our troubles.”
“And what troubles are ye having?”
A flush bloomed on her cheeks, and Jillian chuckled. “Bedroom problems?”
Elizabeth gasped and clapped her hands. She was such a romantic, and desperately wanted Gemma and Theo to live happily ever after.
“Shhh! I don’t want everyone to know!” Looking furtively around, Gemma assured herself that no one was looking at them. “It’s not that there isn’t interest, but when we first...had an intimate moment, I did not realize quite how intimate it might be. I feel almost foolish about how I acted, and how I feel around him.”
“Men can be brutes,” Jillian said quietly. “Has he hurt ye?”
“No, he just hasnae...erm...taken his pleasure yet. He wants me to be more comfortable.”
The widow’s eyes widened. “Really? That doesnae sound like the man I heard so much about. There was a time when the stories that came from MacDougal lands were terrifying. He was burning houses when they couldnae offer a portion of their crops that the laird deemed acceptable.”
“He was his father’s executioner,” Elizabeth offered.
“What?” Gemma frowned, horrified at the thought. “No, that cannot be right. Theo cares about the people.”
“I can only tell ye what I heard. There was a time when Fletcher thought Theo would be crueler than his father.”
Gemma was sick to her stomach. Is this what Theo had tried to tell her? Was he trying to warn her that his father had already done his damage?
Would he be a completely different man when they left Loch Moran?
“Gemma, are ye all right?”
“Yes,” she said as she managed a smile. “Come, we need to finish this so the sun can dry the clothes.”
There was no reason to dwell on the worry that she’d married a stranger. What was done was done, and all she could do now was hope that she could change the path Theo seemed to be going down.
The mercenaries hit as soon as darkness covered the skies. In the outside bonfires’ dying light, as the last of the neighbors started to their homes, the patrols sounded an alarm.
Followed by Theo’s furious bellow for everyone to get inside.
Still gathering the last of the clothes, Gemma froze and listened. Shouts carried over from the other side of the loch, followed by the oil-dipped arrows carrying fire through the sky.
Alone, her stomach twisted. They were being invaded.
Again.
David and Cameron.
Panicked, Gemma dropped the clothes, picked up her skirts, and hurried over the fields to the boy’s home. When she’d last seen them, David had declared that he and Cameron would sleep in their own home that night. It hadn’t bothered her. They often liked to sleep in their parents’ bed, and someone would bring them breakfast in the morning, but she knew exactly what David would be thinking.
He’d be thinking about revenge, and poor Cameron would be terrified. There were nights where he still woke up crying for his parents.
David would try to join the men who were no doubt gathering arms. The poor boy would get himself killed thinking that he needed to avenge his parents.
Heart pounding, she raced as fast as she could through the village. Thankfully, the fighting still sounded as though it was being contained at the border. The women were racing with buckets to the loch to gather water for fires and injuries while the men hurried to the border to help.
They’d been through this so many times. There was no longer any panic; just a quiet determination to survive and do what was needed to defend the loch.
Gemma had desperately hoped that they would have more time before the next attack with Theo in charge. A chance to relax and enjoy life again.
Her gaze scanned those hurrying by, searching for the children before she came to their small house and opened the door. “David?”
“Lady Gemma!” Cameron sprang from his hiding spot in the corner and raced toward her. Tears streaked down his face, and he clung to her. “‘Tis happening again.”
“Oh, you sweet thing.” She hugged him tightly and saw with a sinking heart that he was alone. “Where is your brother?”
Cameron sobbed. “David said he was a soldier now, and he needed to fight. He told me to hide. I wanted to follow, but I was too scared.”
“You were doing what you were told, Cameron, and that is good. Right now, I want you to stay with Miss Elizabeth.” Agnes and Harris would be out helping where they could, but Elizabeth and some of the other younger women always took in the children.
Cameron continued to cry. “What about David?”
“I am going to find him, honey.” Trying not to show her panic, she picked him up. Usually, she would stagger under his weight, but right now, she was fueled by the need to get him to safety. “Hold on to me.”
Praying the battle was still at the border, Gemma hurried across the fields to Harris’s house. There were already five children inside, huddl
ed around Elizabeth while she told them a story to distract them. She didn’t even stop when Gemma sat Cameron down and kissed him on the head.
“Mind Miss Elizabeth, and I will be back as soon as possible,” she whispered.
“With my brother?”
“Yes, darling.”
And when she found David, she was going to wring his neck for putting her through this.
Elizabeth looked at her curiously, but Gemma didn’t stick around as she picked up her skirts again and fled out the house and down toward the fires. Tears gathered in her eyes. Was David all right?
Was her husband?
Smoke was filling the air; her eyes burned. Armed only with her wit, she prayed no one would take notice of her as she hedged closer to the wood and searched the fighting below the hills. While the MacDougal guards were dressed in their colors, the invaders weren’t wearing any colors at all.
Mercenaries! Who would hire an army of mercenaries to fight their battles for them?
She gasped when she caught sight of a small figure running awkwardly from the armory with a heavy sword dragging on the ground.
“David!” Heart in her throat, she hurried his way. One of the mercenaries were bound to see him any minute. They would take him down with a single arrow. They may not even realize he was a child or worse, they may not care.
By the time she got to him, her lungs were burning. With little thought to her surroundings, she grabbed hold of his arm. Lucky for her, the weapon was weighing him down. Yanking the heavy sword from him, she pulled him up against her.
“David, stop struggling! It’s me. It’s Gemma.”
“Let me go!” he yelled as he tried to pull away. “I haftae avenge my parents!”
“This is not how you do it. You do not leave your baby brother behind. What if the mercenaries aren’t contained here? What if they reach the village? What of Cameron?”
Shame filled his small face, and tears gathered in his eyes, but he still held his chin out in defiance. “I am the man of the family.”
Highlander’s Lesser Evil: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Highlands' Deceptive Lovers Book 4) Page 8