by Fiona Faris
She usually went to Connell as Alexander’s second if she felt that things might get out of hand but now he was the one occupied with killing one of the brigands. She wondered if she should get Onesmus but she didn’t want to look as if she was taking sides.
“Help.” She whispered although there was nobody to hear her.
Someone crashed onto the kitchen floor with a grunt and she scrunched her eyes shut, and covered her ears. She crept slowly toward the other door, not opening her eyes and was surprised when she was stopped by a soft round barrier. She jumped, turning to gape in shock at Emily MacTavish who was standing in the kitchen doorway, her belly on full display, and with a face like thunder.
“Ak,” Frances said.
“What is going on here?” Emily said loudly, causing the squirming mass on the kitchen floor to stop and see who this new female voice was. Emily stepped into the room and surveyed Connell and Ronald, the former who’s fingers were firmly around the latter’s neck, clearly squeezing for all he was worth.
Emily surveyed the scene dispassionately. “Connell McDonald is it? Where is my husband?”
Frances’ heart stopped. “I-I’ll just get Rebecca shall I?” she said before scampering out of the room without waiting for an answer.
Emily turned back to face Connell who was slowly getting off Ronald.
“Madam,” he said with a slight bow, “We were not expecting ye.”
Emily snorted. “Clearly.”
She put one hand on her back and stretched. Connell immediately stepped forward fearfully. “Are ye alright? D’ye need to sit doon?”
“I’m fine Mr. McDonald. I just want to see my husband. Where is he?”
Connell merely gaped at her for a moment but when her face began to look alarmed, he hastened to answer. “He may be resting. I’m not really sure…” he trailed off as she narrowed her eyes at him.
Just then, Rebecca stepped into the room, much to Connell’s relief.
“Emily!” she cried before leaping into her arms and hugging her hard. She stepped back, staring at her sister-in-law, “I canna believe ye’re here. How did ye come all the way by yersel’?”
“I wasn’t alone. I brought a whole battalion of men. I didn’t know whether…” she trailed off uncertainly, “Are you alright, Rebecca?”
Rebecca gave her a smile. “I’m fine,” she choked, looking away and blinking hard, “I’m nae the one ye should be worrit for.”
Emily took a step toward her, “What do you mean by that?”
Rebecca whirled around, enveloping Emily in her arms. “Forgive me sister.”
“Rebecca? You’re scaring me.”
Rebecca sighed deeply, disengaged from Emily and took her hand. “Come with me.” She said. She led her up to Alexander, explaining slowly and as delicately as she could, what had happened. Emily’s hand tightened on her arm when Rebecca told her that the brigand had shot her husband but she said nothing. Rebecca hastened to assure her that Alexander was on the road to recovery.
“I promise ye.”
“I know,” Emily said her eyes bright with compassion, “this must be very difficult for you.”
“Why d’ye say that?” Rebecca asked, her heart twisting painfully at the lack of censure in Emily’s gaze.
“Because I can tell by the way you speak of him that your brigand has made an impression on you. I can well remember the internal conflict of loving a man you feel you should hate.”
“I dinna love him!” Rebecca whipped her head around to glare balefully at Emily. Her sister in law simply reached up and cupped her chin and then leaned in and kissed her cheek very gently.
“I’m tired, so I’m going to greet my husband and then get some rest. You should do the same.”
Rebecca snorted in surprise. “The sun is still up. There’s plenty yet to do about the place.”
“And I wager you’re trying to do it all aren’t you? Give some of those men with too much excess energy some chores to do. I guarantee you will have less fights to break up.”
She laughed soundlessly, acknowledging the truth of her sister-in-law’s words. “I expect ye’re right. I expect Alexander’s men might listen to me, but Chris’…” she shook her head.
“Well then tell him to help you.” Emily squeezed her arm and smiled.
Rebecca shook her head. “We’re not exactly on speaking terms at the moment.”
“I’m sure you can change that.” Emily said with a smile before stepping into the room.
“Emily!” Rebecca heard Alexander say in shock, before the door was closed. She turned away with a sigh, going in search of her own husband.
Until the day Emily had come running up to him with a face-splitting grin and the news from the physician for why she was throwing up all the time, Alexander had never understood what people meant when they said that pregnant ladies glowed. Now, of course, he was all too aware.
His wife made such a picture, curled in the bed with sheets and blankets wrapped artfully around her and the winter sunlight painting in broad stripes across her shoulders. Emily had one hand curled near her cheek, the other tangled in Alexander's shirt. She was making soft noises in her sleep, humming and purring at whatever filled her dreams.
Alexander smiled and ran his fingers through Emily's hair, breathing in her early morning scent. Emily had always smelled good, but now it was like nothing he had imagined. Not only did she smell like honeydew and rain as usual, but now with the approach of their child, she radiated happiness and well-being that intoxicated him like a drug. Even in the midst of all this stramash with Chris and his sister she was a haven of peace and Alexander was more in love with her than ever. He was glad she had made the journey.
"Sweetling," he whispered, moving his fingers to stroke along Emily's cheek. "Sweetling tis morning."
"Five more hours," mumbled Emily, snuggling into her pillow. Alexander laughed, and the corners of Emily's lips tugged upward.
"Careful," Alexander warned. "Ye're getting lazy in yer auld age." Emily's smile disappeared at that and she cracked open an eye to glare at Alexander.
"That was simply uncalled-for," she said. "I'm moving in with Rebecca."
"I'll tell Chris not to let ye," Alexander warned. Emily rolled her eyes.
"Chris's more scared of me than you," she answered. She stretched her arms and legs out with a sigh. "As it should be."
Emily pushed herself to sit against the headboard, folding her hands across her belly. Alexander leaned in to layer his hand on top, nosing at the scent glands under Emily's jaw.
"Good morning, my love," Alexander whispered.
"Morning," Emily hummed, freeing one of her hands to tangle in Alexander's hair. "Make love to me?"
Alexander fell backward, sputtering. "E-Emily!" he cried. Emily pouted up at him.
"Please?" she prodded.
"But-" Alexander's mind was whirling. "But, the bairn!" he protested. Emily rolled her eyes and crossed her arms with a huff.
"The baby will like it," she said. "It'll probably rock him to sleep."
"But- but won't I hurt him?" Alexander asked. Emily's expression softened and she reached out to cup Alexander's cheek.
"No, I promise," she said. "plenty of pregnant ladies pump and their bairns are fine. My mother told me so." She leaned forward, the light in her eyes turning hard. "I have longed for you for the past five months, Alexander. If you keep refusing me I will have to take drastic measures." Alexander watched her with nervous eyes.
"I'm a bit terrified of ye the noo’," he admitted.
"Good."
Alexander swallowed hard, following the pressure of Emily's hand as the lady guided him carefully to lay flat on the bed.
"Don't look so worried," Emily teased. "I promise it's nothing you haven't done before." Despite himself, Alexander could feel his cheeks heating as he stared up at Emily.
"I'll be gentle with you."
Alexander hummed happily, the pain in his chest forgotten as he reached fo
r Emily. He stroked his thumb lovingly along the swollen heat of her before he began to rub in earnest. The feeling of Alexander’s rough callouses dry on her sensitive skin was almost painful but Emily loved it and it quickly eased as she began to weep around his hand.
“God, love how wet ye get,” Alexander whispered as he twisted his lips with effort. “Bonnie lassie…”
“Alexander,” Emily whined quietly, turning her face into her shoulder to muffle her noises. “Wait.”
Alexander paused as Emily reached between them and slot Alexander’s hardness between her legs so that he could thrust between them. They both knew it was a surefire way to get Emily going, feeling her husband’s heavy member rubbing over her hole again and again.
Emily lifted her hand to her mouth to lick it clean of any slick still on it and Alexander picked up his movements again, stroking Emily steadily but this time with a slow thrusting of his hips.
“That’s it, love,” Alexander breathed, the sleepiness gone from his voice but he didn’t speed up and Emily didn’t feel the need to ask for faster. She knew she needed to do most of the work with Alexander’s chest still healing.
Closing her eyes, Emily just floated on the pleasure that Alexander knew how to draw out of her so expertly. The past few months, it had been incredibly easy to get Emily wet, it was like there was just so much slick in her body that the slightest bit of stimulation and it all came rushing out. Tonight was no different and it didn’t take long at all for Alexander to slip out from between Emily’s cheeks with just how wet she was.
“Make love to me?” Emily asked again, softly, whole body languid.
Alexander didn’t respond, instead just releasing Emily’s hips so he could guide himself into her. Her pregnancy had raised her temperature to mind-blowing levels unaffected by the outside cold. Alexander was still, simply enjoying being encased in such wet heat. His body was relaxed even as he was hard as a diamond. When he reached this point of arousal that there was almost no resistance when Alexander pushed in, letting her sink slowly onto him until they were pressed together, skin to skin.
“How are ye always so perfect?” Alexander asked on a quiet groan.
Emily just smiled slightly, moaning softly as she pulled back almost all the way so she could sink back onto him slowly again. It was so agonizingly slow but it was perfect. Emily didn’t want it any faster. The slow thrusting, the steady build towards orgasm, was… relaxing. Usually, the relaxation only came after she did, but this was good.
After a while, Alexander’s arms slid around her to pull her down so she was closer to him, chest to chest. Suddenly, Emily had to take a shaky breath because she was so happy. She was having a baby with her husband! Every dream of hers had come true. She wanted a big family full of loving siblings, the way she’d been brought up. This pregnancy was hopefully the first of many. Even the troubles with Chris couldn’t dampen her happiness.
“Alexander, please,” Emily sighed, unsure what she was asking for.
“Relax, love,” Alexander breathed against her neck. “I’m close.”
“Me too… Can I–?”
“Slowly.”
Emily ground down harder, swirling her hips to further embed him inside her. She felt as if she could not get enough of this. It was never enough but neither was it long before Emily was coming with an unsteady jerk of her hips and her mouth opening in a silent cry.
“Ah! My love, God, ye take all the pain away.” Alexander whispered even as he thrust harder feeling his own orgasm bearing down on him. Emily was busy focusing on the pressure of Alexander’s shaft pressing against her rim with every thrust.
“Come on, Alexander, come inside me, please. I want to feel you in me all day,” Emily whispered.
Alexander’s grunt came with a sudden surprised thrust of his hips in violent release. Alexander came inside her with a grunt, leg shaking as he gave her everything he had.
Lying together in silence aside from their quickened breathing, Emily dozed. Her body was limp and languid, relaxed into the mattress and Alexander’s arms came more fully to wrap around her swollen belly.
“Alexander?” Emily asked, eyes closed with a grin that she knew Alexander couldn’t see. “You know how intercourse can induce labor?”
“What? Are ye–?” Alexander asked, voice slightly panicked.
Emily laughed happily. “No, just making sure you knew.”
“I swear to god, ye’re gang to kill me one day,” Alexander said, frustrated, though his tone was beyond fond.
“Look forward to it.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Rebecca was surprised that Chris had not come to retrieve her from the chamber she was currently sharing with Frances. She knew he had moved down the hall from Alexander in the North Wing and she had gone back to the South Wing to her old bed. If she was honest, she was slightly peeved that he had not come to unceremoniously collect her. But now she needed to speak with him and so she went to his chambers, only to find it empty.
She sighed with annoyance, heading back down the stairs to ask his men where he might be. She found three of them in the dining room, apparently locked in a mortal battle of whist with three of Alexander’s men.
“Onesmus? Have you seen Chris?” she asked from the door not wanting to disturb them. They nevertheless all scrabbled to their feet when they saw her.
“Uh…I think he’s in the uh…” he got to his feet, “I’ll fetch him.”
Rebecca opened her mouth to tell him to just tell her where her husband was but then it occurred to her that he might be in a compromising position somewhere, perhaps partaking of some other woman’s wiles.
She swallowed the bile that climbed up her throat at the thought and nodded. Onesmus was off at once, while the other men awkwardly avoided her eyes. She moved away from the door so that they could not see her and immediately they resumed their game, loudly insulting each other as they did so.
Rebecca stood against the wall, breathing hard as she waited for Chris to appear. Onesmus appeared at the end of the hall, with Chris walking unsteadily behind him. Rebecca’s eyes narrowed and she straightened up from the wall she was leaning on to meet Chris halfway.
“We need to talk,” she said as soon as Onesmus disappeared back into the dining room.
Chris gave an unsteady smile. “I suppose we do.”
He turned and headed for the stairs and Rebecca had to wonder how much a man like him had to drink to get this drunk.
As soon as they reached his room, she rounded on him. “Were ye wi’ some other woman?”
His eyebrow rose. “Is there no end to your accusations?”
She pushed him, her face red. “Dinna even act like ye dinna deserve them.”
“I don’t!” Chris shouted and that made Rebecca so mad she slapped him. It was one thing for him to do something and regret it. It was quite another for him to completely deny any wrongdoing. She was so fed up with him.
Rebecca slammed the door shut as she walked out of Chris’ chambers in a fit of anger. She clearly intended to make the action as loud as possible, judging by the way the paintings hanging from the wall rattled loudly as the door shut. Chris, his fists shaking, stormed to the bed and sat down hard on it.
It was difficult to control how heavily he was breathing. He expelled his breath in a huff from his nose sharply absentmindedly running his fingers through his long auburn hair. He was burning with fury and frustration.
Considering everything they’d been through, he really should have been prepared to fight so angrily- so loudly. She threw accusations at him faster than he could catch them. He would be willing to admit that he was very drunk – thanks to an unsuccessful attempt to drown his feelings for her. He missed her so and he would have been completely justified in taking some other woman to his bed.
But he hadn’t.
Oh no, what with the MacTavish recovering from a bullet to the chest two doors down, and keeping an eye on his men to make sure they didn’t start somet
hing, Rebecca acting like a scalded cat every time they were in the same room…it had all been a lot. Where would he even have found the time to find another woman? His wife was ridiculous and he’d told her so.
