The Great Scottish Devil

by Starla Kaye

  “Ye do look a bit pale. Nay doubt no’ as recovered from yer illness of yesterday as ye’d thought.” He motioned her to the door leading to the stairs. “’Tis sorry fer that, I am.”

  Her queasy stomach had nothing to do with an “illness of yesterday.” Since what he thought had been an ailment of some kind that had kept her from walking with him last night had really been her spending time recovering from Brodie’s sound leathering of her poor bottom. But the reasoning worked for now. She hurried down the steep, circular staircase as quickly as she could manage without tripping over her long skirt.

  The second she reached the first floor she breathed a sigh of relief. Until she felt tension around her. Until she glanced up and found Brodie standing a few feet in front of her, scowling darkly, his jaw tight.

  “What…what are you doing here?” she asked nervously. As angry as he appeared, she was still grateful for his presence.

  He ignored her question, stepped even closer, and the furrow between his brows deepened. “Why are ye so pale? Why are ye shivering?” He turned his glare toward Angus. “What did ye do?”

  Annabel felt the tension grow worse, sensed Angus swelling with fury behind her. While something about him worried her, he had done nothing wrong. Did he push you closer to the low wall? Was that really an accident? She forced aside the thoughts as being ridiculous. It had been windy up there, that’s all.

  “I wouldna harm sweet Annabel,” Angus growled. “I plan to take her fer my bride. Soon as she gets to ken me better.”

  Her stomach knotted and she turned to gape at him. “Your bride? Me?” It would solve her problem, but instead of feeling happy, she felt flutters of fear. Which confused her.

  Brodie pulled her back against him. “Never! I will no’ allow it!”

  As always, Angus showed no hint of being intimidated by his fearsome laird. He moved closer, until Annabel was sandwiched in between the two warriors.

  ““Tis no’ up to ye. ‘Tis up to Annabel.”Angus looked down at her, his expression grim and determined. “She wants to continue her tinker trade, I can help with that. She needs a mon to protect her, a husband. I can do both.”

  Brodie started to reach for the man, squishing her and making her yelp. He stopped as he realized what he’d done. But he merely lowered his hand. He didn’t move back so much as an inch. And neither did Angus.

  Having had enough of their challenging one another and of the whole upsetting night, Annabel squirmed out from between them. She planted her hands on her hips and looked from one to the other. “I am going to my bedchamber. I will not discuss this subject further, with either of you. Not until I have thought things over.”

  She stormed toward the door leading from the tower. The men were still standing there, no doubt trying to glare each other down, and mayhap preparing to reach for weapons. She couldn’t live with either of them getting hurt because of this ridiculous showdown, this powerful need they each had to prove who was tougher, stronger.

  Heaving a put-upon sigh, she looked in their direction. Aye, she’d been right. Both men had put their hands on knives in sheaths at their waists. “Brodie Durward, stop that this instant! Angus Gordon, if you even think about pulling that knife out, I swear I will not so much as look at you again! Let alone consider marrying you.”

  Brodie lowered his hand, but the glower he shot her warned her of his anger. She could almost feel his palm smacking against her bottom, which would be unfair since this wasn’t really her fault.

  Angus backed down, although he didn’t look like he did so easily. But he strode around Brodie and by her as well. He hesitated before walking outside. “I will talk to ye, Annabel, on the morrow.”

  An instant later Brodie snagged her arm and pulled her with him to the end of the lord’s table. She tried to dig in and resist going, but her slippers couldn’t get a hold in the rushes on the floor. With a firm hand to her back, he forced her down over the hard wooden table. Then he had the gall to snap, “Lift your skirt and chemise!”

  While her parents had often made her bare her bottom before punishment, she hated when Brodie had demanded it. Her face flamed as she stayed bent over but looked back at him. “I will not! There is no reason for you to punish me now. So absolutely not!”

  His big hand shot out and smacked hard enough she felt it through the layers of her clothing. “Oh there is much reason to burn yer bottom, Annabel. Ye acted foolishly going up to the lookout of this tower alone with Gordon. He’s a dangerous mon. And he lusts after ye.”

  “As do you,” she protested. His expression turned even more irritated and she didn’t want him taking off his belt again. She decided that he might be a little bit right, about going anywhere alone with Gordon. With a sigh of resignation, she reached awkwardly back to lift her skirt and chemise.

  He took them and shoved them over her back. “’Tis a shame I must redden yer bottom with a spanking so soon after the leathering.”

  “It really is not necessary,” Annabel said as he tucked her skirt beneath her stomach and out of his way. “I will not go off alone with Angus again. It was foolish, very foolish.”

  Brodie put his hand over her bottom, the touch sending quivers throughout her body. Now this was foolish! Feeling excitement at his touch when he was about to give her a spanking. He stood there for several seconds just smoothing his calloused hand over her buttocks. She could hear his breathing change, become ragged. He was experiencing feelings he shouldn’t be having as well. For both their sakes she had to do something.

  “If you are going to do this, do it. Otherwise…”

  His hand lifted and fell with a thunderous Smack!

  “Ohhhhhhh!” That single swat hurt like the very devil.

  “I want ye to think verra carefully before ye go anywhere with that mon agin.” He spanked her repeatedly and with enough force that she was shoved forward against the tabletop.

  “I do no’ like him. The men do no’ like him.” He landed a quick sequence of hard smacks low on her bottom.

  “He…he…” She started to protest but lost her focus as Brodie continued to spank her with grim determination. He didn’t spare an inch of her poor bottom. He built up every bit as much fire as he had the day before with his belt. She couldn’t stand still, went up and down on her toes, wriggled in attempts to get away from the steady smacks.

  “When the guard sent word to me aboot ye going up there with Gordon,” he sent a new rain of swats to each of her burning buttocks, “I came directly. I was frightened fer ye.”

  She could barely think beyond the pain, but she heard the worry in his tone. “I am sorry…truly sorry,” she sobbed out. “Ohhhh please….I am sorry for worrying you.”

  The spanking stopped but he didn’t move away from her. She lay there sobbing, shuddering, in awful pain and felt his mood change. His anger was gone. His hand moved once again to her tender bottom, but this time he smoothed it gently over the hot skin.

  “Brodie,” she questioned and found herself pushing back against his hand. Her woman’s place was on fire. She felt a powerful longing within her, but she didn’t know what she needed. Except that it had to do with the man torturing her in a whole new way now.

  “God’s teeth, Anna,” he groaned. His hand moved between her legs, parting them. “I canna fuck ye. But I desperately want to.”

  “Nay,” she said in disappointment. She knew it would be wrong, but she also knew if he wanted to be intimate with her, she would let him.

  He still didn’t move away. Suddenly his hand cupped her swollen lower lips and she sucked in a breath, waited. “Brodie. Please.” She ached, she wanted. Instincts she knew little about told her she needed him inside her.

  “I canna drive my rod into ye, but I can give ye relief.” One of his long fingers found her center, pushed inside her.

  Relief? She froze in surprise and adjusted to the strangeness of what he was doing. Then a second finger slipped inside as well, and he slowly moved them about. When his thum
b brushed her tiny bud, she held her breath and then cried out, “Ohhhhhh, ohhhhh!”

  After that he worked her body with every bit as much effort as he’d put into spanking her. She squeezed her inner muscles over those wondrous fingers. She squeezed her thighs to hold his hand in place. And she went wild as he took her to a place she’d never been. Finally she stiffened, moaned, and felt juices flooding over his fingers.

  When she’d collapsed against the table, he eased his fingers out of her and stepped back. Her face was flaming again, no doubt as red as her very tender bottom. She didn’t think she could face him after what they’d done.

  He un-tucked her skirts and gently lowered them over her burning bottom. “Ye canna stay there forever, Anna.” He pulled her upright and turned her to face him. “I am sorry. I shouldna have…”

  She boldly lifted her chin. “Spanked me?”

  One side of his mouth twitched. “Nay. Ye deserved a spanking.”

  “We need not talk about the other.” If it were possible, her face flamed even more. She gave him a soft smile. “’The other’ was…very nice.”

  He closed his eyes, heaved a frustrated sigh, and shook his head. “Aye, it was. But it canna happen agin.”

  He took her arm and led her from the tower house. They walked silently together back across the bailey and into the keep. Agatha was waiting for him, looking none too pleased.

  “You must worry less about me, Laird Urquhart, and more about Lady Stonewall.”

  With that, Annabel walked with head held high across the partially filled room. She knew many of the people there wondered why she’d returned with their laird instead of with Angus. They probably wondered just what she’d been doing with their laird, especially now that his betrothed was here. She smiled but spoke to no one as she went to the stairs and carefully walked up to her bedchamber. Her bottom hurt, but it was her woman’s place that still shivered with excitement. ‘Twas a very good thing no one knew exactly what they’d been doing.

  * * *

  Angus stood in the far corner of the great hall, watching in furious silence as The Great Scottish Devil walked in with his “ward.” He had started to go back into the tower house to demand Annabel Henderson’s hand in marriage because he was fed up with the whole job he’d been hired to do. He would rather be off warring somewhere than waiting around to get rid of her. The perfect chance had come and gone up on the parapet. In a moment of softness—which he rarely had—he had drug her back to safety, instead of nudging her over the wall. It would not happen again! Especially after what he had heard and seen only moments ago.

  He watched the beautiful tinker’s daughter walk gingerly up the stairs across the room. He noticed how she winced once and he knew her skirts were brushing over a very sore bottom. He had nearly walked into the tower house’s hall caught up in his anger when he’d heard Annabel cry out. Then he had heard the obvious sound of flesh connecting with flesh and another gasp of pain. Unable to resist, he had eased into the shadows just inside the doorway. He had spanked his share of women over the years, though he preferred stripping a woman’s bare bottom with his belt. He liked seeing a woman squirm about in pain and plead for mercy, which he never gave. He liked hearing them scream out.

  Annabel reached the landing and stopped to lightly touch her backside. Aye, the lass suffered from a sound spanking. The laird had taken his hand to her bottom fiercely, chastising her for going off alone with him. She had sobbed and promised to not do so again. A new problem for him. He still had to do his job, one way or another. But he would have liked to take her away from the almighty Scottish laird. He would have liked to bed her, drive himself into that small yet tempting body. When he’d had his fill of her, he would slice her throat.

  Agatha Stonewall had been standing by the fireplace, impatiently waiting for Laird Urquhart to return. He imagined she had been pretty upset when her betrothed had raced out after getting word from that interfering guard about Annabel, which he’d heard a couple of the men talking about. She looked none too pleased now as Urquhart walked slowly in her direction. If she knew how he’d not only spanked his “ward” but also then proceeded to finger-fuck her… Well, Angus was certain she would not be happy.

  He turned and headed for the keep’s door. It was time for him to find a more private spot. His dick needed some attention. He had nearly shot off in his braies watching that final bit between Annabel and Urquhart. It was too bad he couldn’t find a willing maid to give him some relief. Unfortunately he had given everyone the impression he was completely smitten with Annabel and intended to marry her. Still, his hand had worked well many other times.

  * * *

  Brodie knew even before Agatha opened her mouth that he was in trouble with her. But after the frustrations he had just suffered with Annabel—burning her soft bottom, wanting to fuck her, pleasuring her but not him—his mood was sour. And Agatha had gotten on his nerves earlier.

  “I really think it was poor of you to leave me like you did. No one here knows me. No one seems to want to speak with me. All of your people, including you, appear far too worried about that young ward of yours. I do not like it.” She huffed and her lips pursed in annoyance for a second before she lashed out again. “You have a soldier clearly interested in her. Let him have her. Let her leave here and continue that ridiculous tinker trade of hers.”

  “Watch what ye say, womon,” Brodie warned in a lowered tone. His head ached again. He was tired. He wanted nothing more than to retire early to his chamber and try to forget his many problems.

  She puffed up, her chest pushing out, her cheeks as well. “I can say whatever I wish. We are to marry and you need to listen to me, have a care for my tender feelings.”

  “Tender feelings? I have seen no sign of them, Lady Stonewall.” He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides.

  She snorted. “Well, I have them. And you have stomped all over them, with refusing to get married for a fortnight, with flaunting your ward in front of me.”

  He felt a twinge of guilt concerning Annabel. “I dinna mean to ‘flaunt’ my ward in front of ye. She is jist a concern I have at the time. When I find her a suitable husband—”

  “I would think Sir Angus Gordon would be suitable. He is a Scottish warrior, one that has also been deemed a knight.” She looked across the hall. “He looked rather upset when he walked in here shortly before you and Annabel. Did you have a disagreement with him?”

  Brodie felt uneasy at hearing Gordon had come back here just before them. For a second he wondered if… Nay. The man had stormed off before Brodie had decided to discipline Annabel. “Not all knights are honorable, Lady Stonewall. I do no’ trust the man entirely.” In truth, he did not trust the man at all.

  “He seemed most interested in your ward. I saw no signs of being untrustworthy.” She narrowed her eyes. “Or is it that you have feelings for her, more than as your ward?”

  “Even if I did, they wouldna matter. I have given my word to marry ye.” He didn’t want to talk anymore about the marriage or about Annabel. He simply wanted to go somewhere alone.

  Agatha stepped closer, lifting her chin in challenge. “Then do so, on the morrow. Prove yourself.”

  She had pushed him too far now. “There will be nay wedding fer a fortnight, as I already told ye. Dinna push me agin on the matter or ye will learn how much I dinna like being pushed.”

  “Are you threatening me?” she questioned, blinking in shock.

  He decided she might as well know from the beginning how he dealt with disobedience and dogged annoyance. “’Tis no’ a threat, but a promise, Lady Stonewall. Ye disobey me, purposely antagonize me, or do something foolish and yer bottom will suffer for it.”

  “My…my bottom?” Her eyes widened. “Surely you do not mean that you would… would touch my bottom in a…” she swallowed hard, “in a harmful manner.”

  “Aye, I do. Push me, disobey me, antagonize me, or behave foolishly and ye will get a sound spanking…or worse.�
� He didn’t particularly enjoy punishing a woman, but he would not be a weak man, a weak husband. Then he noticed her paleness. “Yer father or mother never took ye over their knee? Never burned yer butt?”

  She shook her head. “Nay.” She swallowed hard again. “I do not wish to be,” she lowered her voice and her cheeks turned pink, “spanked…or worse.”

  “Then do not force me to do so.”

  “I…I would like to retire now, my laird. I find I am rather tired from the day’s events.” She backed away from him, looking wary.

  He gave her a knowing look. “Yer ass is safe fer the night. Though ye did come close to getting a swat or two.” He glanced toward the stairs without meaning to and added, “I have already warmed one bottom and that is enough fer today.”

  Agatha’s eyes widened again. “You… Annabel… You…”

  He shouldn’t have said anything but it was too late to take it back. “Aye, I disciplined Annabel for behaving foolishly. She will think twice next time.” But he doubted it.

  Agatha gave him a nod and hurried away; clearly worried that he would change his mind and spank her as well. He had a feeling he would be doing so before long.

  He waited until she had disappeared at the top of the stairs before he headed for them. His head seemed to throb even more and it was starting to make him nauseous. He would get some much needed sleep and the morrow would no doubt be much better.

  * * *

  The first rays of dawn were creeping into Brodie’s chamber when he tossed off the bed linen. He had tossed and turned all night, fighting demons, struggling with memories he couldn’t quite reach. Sweat beaded his body. His head throbbed even worse than it had when he’d gone to bed.

  He flung his legs over the edge of the mattress, put his hands to the sides of his head, and squeezed his eyes shut. Something was there right in the corners of his mind. Something important.