by Terry Spear
A peat fire burned in the hearth on one wall, the smell of leather, horse, man, wet wool, and peat permeating the air. Ale and fish stew added to the smells while voices grew more boisterous as men gathered at the tables, glad to be out of the bad weather, and having food and drink to bolster their spirits.
Angus intended to retire to one of the rooms with Edana for a brief time. But she wished to learn if anyone had word about her brothers. She was shivering so hard, he feared if he didn't get her out of her wet clothes, she would grow ill. Still, she proved reluctant to leave her da's side. Undeterred, Angus scooped her into his arms without warning. Her expression revealed shock, eyes wide, her lips parted as she let out a small squeal.
Not waiting for her to object, Angus carried her up the wooden steps to the second floor of the tavern. A few laughs and ribald comments punctuated their exodus—about a man being in charge, a woman knowing her place, and other such things that had him smiling and her frowning.
Una followed close behind, just as wet and bedraggled and tired looking.
Angus set Edana on her feet inside the room, unsure what to do with Una. He didn't wish her to join them, but they couldn't afford to give her a room to herself as few rooms as there were, nor could they safely foist her off on the men. Angus had no intention of sleeping with the men, but Una needed to divest herself of her wet clothing as well.
Fully intending to help Edana out of her wet garments and then leave so that Una could do the same with hers, he shut the door to the room. He started across the floor to help Edana as her chilled fingers worked to unfasten her brooch. Before he reached her, a knock at the door stopped him. He stalked back to it and opened the door.
Una's father, one of Tibold's head guards, black-bearded and black-eyed, stood in the doorway and said, "I have found a crofter who will take Una and me and two of my men in. My chief says that they still have no word of where his sons are, but he will continue to question newcomers to the pub to see if any know of the woman and where she may be. Then he will make further plans. He says to sleep and food will be sent up in a few hours." Una's da bowed his head a little to Angus. "Sleep well." Then he smiled at Angus and hurried his very wet daughter down the corridor to the stairs.
Vastly relieved that the maid's father took her off Angus's hands, he quickly shut and barred the door and turned to see Edana struggling to get out of her wet brat, her fingers icy cold.
He strode forth, unfastened her brooch, and helped her out of her damp léine, chemise, hose, and shoes. Before he could remove his own clothes, she buried her naked body under furs in the big bed. He smiled at the sight, ready to warm her better than even the furs could.
He laid his clothes out to dry beside hers. Then he pulled the covers aside, glimpsed her arousing nakedness—light unmarred skin, dusky rose nipples peaked, the red curly hair at the juncture of her thighs. Her blue eyes and rosy lips smiled at him. And he wanted to bury himself in her—make love to her, and then sleep with her tucked in his arms.
He quickly climbed onto her and yanked the furs back over them.
"You are so cold." Her teeth chattered as she ran her hands over his back.
"Aye, you as well, wife. But we shall soon remedy that," he said, already seeking her mouth with his.
Even kissing her and pressing his body against the length of her soft skin brought his to life. His body burned hot with desire, and before he knew it, she was no longer shivering.
She parted her legs for him, and he rubbed her in that feminine place that made her arch against him, pushing for more. The days they had not been able to love each other made this one even more special.
She seemed to be holding her breath, her heart pounding wildly as he continued to stroke her need. Her expression was taut with concentration. He loved how responsive she was to him, but as soon as she looked ready to come and took a breath, he covered her cry of pleasure—not wanting the whole tavern full of men to hear just what was going on above stairs. Not that they wouldn't have a good idea.
He slid his cock inside her warm, welcoming sheath and kissed her again. Her tongue wickedly teased his mouth, gaining entrance, taking charge, dominating him. He loved every new experience they shared. Her hands caressed his skin, her fingertips soft and kneading, encouraging him to thrust deeper, over and over again.
The stolen kisses at night before she had retired to her tent with Una were nothing like this. He had only imagined what it would be like to see her naked again, to feel her body all around his, to enjoy her lips and tongue on his. He loved cupping her breasts in his hands and feeling the taut nipples underneath his thumbs, in his mouth, his tongue tantalizing them.
She came again, only this time, he concentrated on his own raw need and missed capturing her cry with a kiss. A shock of heat speared him as he spilled his seed inside her. Hot and satiated and satisfied, he sank down on her and kissed her now thawed cheeks.
"Are you warm enough now, lass?"
She cast him a mischievous grin. "You have warmed me up just fine, husband."
"I was a fool no' to see you sooner," he said, truly regretting looking for a wife anywhere else such as when he, Malcolm, and Dougald had searched in England for a woman, when the one for him had been so close at hand.
She smiled as he moved to her side, and she turned to rest half her body on his, her head on his chest. "Aye."
He chuckled, stroking her naked back, the furs still burying them, and he felt relaxed after the long night's ride and pummeling from the rain. This was how he wished to spend all his nights, and if he could get away with it, half his days.
But he knew she would not like the next part of his plan. Once he learned just where her brothers were, he wished to leave her safe somewhere. Even here, mayhap. He didn't want her with him, should they have to do battle to free her brothers.
***
Dunbarton, the old fool had lost his chance at happiness, MacRae thought as he watched Oppida enter the great hall. She looked as bonny as ever, her black hair plaited against her head, her dark sultry eyes on him and only on him. He loved that about her. She didn't flirt with other men. And that's what infuriated him—that some men would attempt to take advantage of her anytime she left the keep without him. But she loved so to visit with the people in nearby villages, spreading her cheer and seeing to their welfare. How could he not allow her to continue to do so?
Why Dunbarton only kept the woman as his mistress while he was alive and didn't make her the lady of Lockton Castle, taking some other woman as his wife instead, MacRae couldn't fathom. He rubbed his bearded chin. Though he had to admit he'd been reluctant to make her his wife as well. Devil take it, he couldn't say why, either.
She offered him a radiant smile and practically glided across the stone floor to where he was seated at the high table. His eyes weren't the only ones on her, however. He could never be certain if that bothered him that his men lusted after her as much as he did, or appealed that the woman was his and not theirs. And he alone had garnered such a prize.
She joined him at the table, wrapping her arms around him as if she hadn't had enough of him, though only a short time ago they had been naked in his bedchamber making love. Again, he noted the rabid interest from some of his men, the amusement from others. She took her seat next to him and plucked some of the goat cheese off his trencher. His gaze caught sight of his son of nine summers who looked on with disgust, his mouth turned down, his green eyes narrowed.
Mayhap that was why he had not taken Oppida for his wife. She seemed kind and loving toward Pol when MacRae was in their company, but the lad would not warm up to her. Was it that he had lost his mother and did not wish Oppida to take her place? He had talked to the boy about it over and over again. But not once had Pol told him why he didn't like her.
He would grow up and learn the way of men soon enough. One thing MacRae would not allow was for the boy to talk to the men in his dungeon again. How many times had he visited them before MacRae learned of it? What
was the lad thinking?
Thankfully, his advisor had seen Pol leaving the corridor that led into the dungeon and had brought the difficulty to MacRae at once. But no matter how much MacRae had questioned his son, he remained adamant the men said nothing. And that he worried the one man was ill and dying.
Pol had much too kind a heart. Let the men who had molested his Oppida rot the rest of their days in his dungeon, for all he cared.
Shifting his attention from his son, MacRae gazed upon his adoring Oppida. He enjoyed loving her naked body in his chambers. The most extraordinary creature, she'd convinced him to pleasure her by the lake, in the woods, in the kitchen while the servants slept—any number of places—making him feel as he did in his youth. Spontaneous, lighthearted, young again.
He would not give her up for anything.
***
Angus and Edana slept for some time, then he woke and wished to see if Tibold or any of the other men had word about her brothers. "I am going downstairs to fetch us a meal and see if anyone has learned where your brothers might be, lass," Angus said, brushing his lips against her cheek as he leaned over her.
Edana opened her eyes and looked up at him. "I will go with you."
"Nay. Sleep, lass. I will have one of the men posted as a guard until I return."
"You will no' leave me behind?" she asked, her eyes rounding.
"We will talk about it when we have a clearer idea where they may be. Sleep, lass. I will return with our food in a bit."
Thankfully, she nodded and closed her eyes. He had quickly learned that when he suggested something she didn't agree with, she would attempt to change his mind. Which had to mean that the trip here had wearied the lass too much. And that again made him want to leave her behind to rest up further.
He left the bed and hurried to dress, then with one last kiss on her warm cheek, he left the room. Seeing Gunnolf headed up the stairs, Angus asked, "What news?"
"None."
"Will you watch Edana's room while I get us some food?"
"Ja."
"Did you sleep?"
"For a while. Niall is still asleep. I am no' sure he can handle our adventures."
Agnes smiled, thinking that Niall had missed out all this time as he had helped James manage the MacNeill clan and their holdings.
The wooden steps creaking with his weight, Angus headed down them to the main floor. Every table was filled with men drinking and eating, laughing, and talking, the clinking of tankards adding to the noise in the room. A fire helped warm the place, though some travelers sat close to it, attempting to dry their wet clothes.
The smoky smell of peat mixed with wet wool, leather, the baking of bread, and fish stew.
Tibold motioned to Angus. His faced looked drawn. "We have spoken to everyone that has passed through here while you slept. No one knows of the woman."
"The pub owner?"
"He recalls naught of it," Tibold said, rubbing his eyes.
"Mayhap she met your sons outside the tavern and her benefactor saw the situation and had his men take them hostage."
"Aye. Could very well be. Others are asking the villagers if anyone had seen or heard anything," Tibold said.
"Have you rested at all?" Angus asked. It would not do if Edana's father grew ill.
He shook his head.
"Go, rest. I will continue to query newcomers."
"What of Edana?"
"Gunnolf is guarding the room. She is sleeping. I will take food up to her later."
Tibold clapped his hand on Angus's shoulder. "I am pleased to call you son. Should you learn anything of my sons' whereabouts, come get me."
"Aye."
Tibold headed for the stairs, looking weary and beat, his stride shortened and his footsteps more of a shuffle than his usual brusque manner of stomping about.
Angus turned his attention to the crowd. Was Keary sleeping as well? He saw no sign of him.
Angus went to speak to the owner, a large beefy man with a red face, who was pouring ale into tankards. "I already know what you are going to ask and I will tell you the same as I told Tibold. I know of no incident where men hauled others out of here by force."
"And the woman? Oppida? Has she been here of late?"
"Aye…once…or twice."
"Who keeps the woman?" Angus asked.
The tavern owner shrugged.
Angus watched the man's gaze slide to the other side of the room. Angus was certain the man knew. "This has happened before, has it no'?"
The man's gaze returned to Angus's. "Like I said—"
"You fear retribution. The chief lives nearby and he and his men frequent the tavern. Is that no' so? You worry if you tell us, the chief will return and want revenge? But we are here now. And all I have to do is tell Tibold you know where his sons are, and that you are protecting this woman or the man who keeps her as his mistress. Do you know how many combined forces we have? How Tibold himself would do anything to learn the truth? Need I say more?"
"MacRae," the man spit out. "We have no quarrel with you or him either. 'Tis the woman who has caused all the grief of late."
"How many times has she done so?"
"Three, that I know of. She is the devil, that one. I dinna know how Chief MacRae canna see it. The woman is beautiful, but she tempts the men into losing their senses. Aye, they want her, but if she didna offer herself to them, naught would come of it."
"Where is his keep?"
"Three hour's ride due north of here. She comes with an escort while the chief is away on business. If he catches her with a mon, the wretch is done for. Why MacRae doesna kill the woman…" He shook his head. "Och, she claims the men took advantage of her and the chief always believes her when anybody else could see the right of it."
"But the brothers…they are still alive?" Angus asked, fearing the worst.
"The men fought hard and wouldna give up their brother. MacRae took the whole lot of them. I suspect he willna want to kill them, fearing who he might offend this time." The tavern owner leaned closer. "I dinna believe he knows just whose sons he has though or he wouldna have hauled them all away like he did."
That worried Angus. What if MacRae feared repercussions and killed Tibold's sons and attempted to bury the bodies and say they had never been at his castle? Any one of the men who had visited the tavern who they'd questioned might have gone to speak with the chief and warn him about what would come to pass if Angus or anyone in his party learned the truth.
"I thank you for your honesty." Angus stalked off and ran up the stairs to Tibold's shared quarters.
"News?" Gunnolf asked, straightening next to the door leading to Edana and his room, his blue eyes widening.
"Aye, 'tis MacRae who has the Chattan brothers." Angus knocked on Tibold's door.
Niall answered it, dressed and looking as though he was on his way out of the room. "Have you any word?"
"Aye, 'tis MacRae who has the men," Angus said, loud enough for Tibold to hear.
Tibold quickly came off the bed and began to dress. "Where is MacRae's keep?"
Angus told him. "I must speak with Edana."
"You dinna plan to take her with us, do you?" her father asked, his face dark with concern.
"I will talk to her." Angus hoped to leave her here, but he was torn between worrying for her safety if she remained behind and taking her into a potential battle if that's what they were bound for. He entered their room, then shut the door.
Her eyes remained closed, her hair spilling over the furs, her face angelic in sleep. He sighed. He did not want to move her from here. But he suspected if he left her behind, she might just try to follow him. He sat down beside her on the bed and caressed her hair. "Lass, we have word of where the woman resides."
Edana eyes popped open and she quickly sat up. "MacRae! Kayne just told me. We must go at once."
"Aye, but wouldna it be better if you stayed here with a few of your father's men?"
"Nay," she said, and tried to get out of
bed, but he was sitting on the furs, pinning her down and blocking her path.
He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "All right. Dress. I will get us some food and then we will be on our way."
Before he could leave the room, a knock on the door sounded. He answered it and found the tavern keeper's daughter standing there with a tray of two bowls of fish soup, bannocks, and chunks of goat cheese.
"Thank you." He took the tray from her, then shut the door with his foot.
"How long will it take us to get there?" Edana asked, slipping the chemise over her head.
Fascinated, he watched the fabric catch on her breasts. He didn't offer to help her with her garment, not believing how lucky he was that he could feast on such beauty. She quickly tugged the chemise down and rushed to pull the léine over her head next.
He took a deep breath. "Mayhap about three hours. Depending on the weather."
"Is it raining again?" she asked, sitting down to eat her food.
"Nay. You canna see the stars tonight, though." He wolfed down his food, like he often did, but noticed she was trying to eat hers just as fast so they could be on their way. "Are you certain you dinna want to wait here for us with your maid? 'Tis late. And I dinna want you in the middle of a skirmish if it comes to that."
"Nay. I want to see my brothers as soon as possible."
A knock on the door sounded. "Come!" Angus said.
The door opened and Niall said, "We are ready to go."
Edana hurried to pull on her hose and slipped on her shoes, finished the last of her soup, seized her bread, and said, "We are also."
Angus prayed to God he wasn't making a mistake with allowing Edana to come with them this time.
Chapter 14
Oppida whispered in MacRae's ear, "I will be waiting for you in bed. Dinna delay."
Then she gave him another one of her come-hither smiles and hurried off. Just her whispered breath on his ear made his cock twitch with eagerness. He watched her hips sway as she left the great hall, most of his men's eyes on her. Eager to join her, he rose from his seat and brought an end to the meal.
