The Great Scottish Devil

by Starla Kaye

  Lost in his thoughts, Brodie nearly missed seeing Annabel. She gave a soft laugh and he froze, glanced around, finding her near the gardens. She was smiling and watching some of the servants’ children playing. She was back to wearing a gown again and the long yellow skirt fluttered in the breeze around her legs. He started toward her but stopped when he heard Callum Campbell’s voice.

  The wiry man stepped into view from the other side of the keep. His tone was a bit whiny, manipulative. “The wife and I are anxious to get on our way, lass. We could leave on the morrow.”

  Brodie scowled. But before he could protest, Annabel pinched her lips in annoyance and shook her head. “I promised Lord Devil…I mean Lord Urquhart that I would stay for another week.”

  It amused him that she continued to call him “Lord Devil.” He pushed the thought aside and wondered what she was talking about. The last time they had talked about her leaving, there had been no specific timeline set.

  “Lady Stonewall gave me the impression he is most anxious for ye to leave here. He had been waiting for a proper escort for ye, or to find ye a husband.” Callum raised his pointy chin. “Sarabeth and I would make ye a proper escort.”

  “Oh, you are fine people, Callum. And I truly appreciate your offer.” She hesitated. “It is just that he—”

  Brodie came to her aid. He walked next to her and said firmly, “Lady Stonewall does no’ ken that I asked Annabel to stay another week.” He winked at her and almost chuckled at the relief that swept over her face. “I received word that some neighboring clansmen want to see some of her wares. They should be here by the end of this week.”

  Callum frowned at that bit of news, and then all but rubbed his hands in glee. “We have far more items to sell than Annabel. Mayhap they would like to see ours as well.”

  Annabel struggled to keep from smiling, having understood he’d simply made the quickest excuse he could think of. “Aye, I am sure they would. Who exactly is coming? I forgot which neighbors you told me about.”

  He gave her an I-will-get-you-later look and mumbled, “The MacKays. But they may no’ show up. Unreliable clan they are.”

  “Oh, there you are,” Agatha said a little too brightly to hide her clear annoyance at finding him once more with Annabel. She hurried closer. “You said we could discuss—”

  Brodie blew out a deep breath that stopped her. “Aye, the wedding ceremony.” He saw the immediate flinch on Annabel’s face and was disgusted with himself for mentioning it.

  She gave Agatha a tolerant smile and then looked to Callum. “One of my horses seems to have a sore front hoof. Could you come see what you think is wrong? I would certainly appreciate your advice.”

  Callum straightened and beamed with importance. Then they walked toward the paddocks together, leaving Brodie to his fate with Agatha.

  * * *

  Annabel sat on the trunk in front of her window, her legs pulled up so that she rested her chin on her knees. The night air was almost cold and before long she’d have to lower the oiled paper to cover the window. She squeezed her eyes shut and yet another tear trickled from the corner of one eye. Nay, before long she would be gone from Urquhart. She’d already overstayed her time here. Brodie had not been able to find her a suitable husband, although she believed either he hadn’t tried all that hard or he’d scared any possible men away. Probably both. It mattered not. She couldn’t stay here.

  The breeze fluttered over her and she shivered beneath the thin chemise. She was so lonely. She missed her da so much; her ma, too. The Campbells were trying to treat her as an adopted daughter, but there was something about them that bothered her. They’d never been anything but kind to her. So she was just being silly. They wanted her to leave with them, continue on the route they traveled. Her wagon carried different wares than theirs and they could combine everything to make better sales. She had no real problem with that, since more and more she was thinking her heart wasn’t in the tinker’s life any longer. She wanted a husband, children, and a home of her own. Mayhap she could find a husband in the next village. Or in the one after that.

  Her heart pinched and more tears slid silently down her cheeks. The only man she wanted, she couldn’t have. He belonged to another woman. But there were other good men, mayhap not as handsome, but comely. All she wanted was someone to love her, someone that she could love back.

  Disgusted with her foolish tears and ridiculous dreams, she picked up the small package of notes she’d found this afternoon in her wagon bed. The leather wrapped bundle had been stuck behind a box that she’d moved to get to her medicinals for some salve for her lead horse. She’d barely unwrapped it earlier and blinked in shock at the small pieces of parchment with faded, nearly impossible to read notes in her mother’s handwriting. She knew her mother had been able to read and write, but she’d never seen her actually write anything. Yet these were not in her father’s handwriting.

  She moved to the bed with her package and pulled the candle closer. Dashing away the tears, she drew in a shaky breath and unwrapped the bundle again. She struggled with making sense of anything for the first few pieces of parchment. And then she found one with a number of words that she could actually read.

  “My dearest Anna, You have always been my beloved daughter. Your father and I…could not have children…One day…evil, evil man gave you to us…had no choice…loved you from that first moment on…”

  Annabel’s heart pounded. She put the paper closer to the candle and nearly singed it before she pulled it back. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t make out any more of the words. What did it all mean? Her mother couldn’t have children? But she’d seen her give birth to her younger brother! What evil man? Was it that Ala… her father had mentioned when he was dying? What choice?

  Frantically, she studied one paper after another. This had been the only halfway legible one. She needed to ask Brodie what he thought… Nay! These were her problems, not his. He had more than enough without her adding to them. Mayhap she could talk to Sir Douglas about what she’d read? Nay. She would have to sort all of this mystery out on her own.

  She wrapped the notes up again and set them aside on the bedside table. Then she blew out the candle and lay back. Mayhap if she got some sleep, her mind would be calmer on the morrow. Mayhap then she could begin sorting through what she’d learned.

  * * *

  The keep was quiet by the time Brodie made his way back inside. Not long after sup he’d walked out through the Watergate and gone down to stand beside the loch. His mind had been in such turmoil all day; it seemed to get worse with each passing hour. He’d come to an agreement with the serf and let him buy his freedom. He’d discussed what to do with the new men and some new training methods with Douglas. And he’d agreed to a date for the wedding ceremony, two weeks from today.

  His stomach knotted with dread as he wound his way by the soldiers sleeping on mats on the rushes in the hall. Agatha was delighted and eager to finish working on a gown she’d started on for the wedding. She’d babbled on and on about it, but he’d barely listened. She would make him a passable wife, he supposed, but he knew he would never love her. Was he being fair to her? Should he back out of the arrangement? Edward would be upset, but… Nay, he’d given his word. He would stand by it.

  He walked up the circular stone staircase on leaden feet. Soon he would be…

  Heart wrenching sobs pulled him from his thoughts, stilled his steps. Annabel! He’d passed by her door on other nights when she’d quietly cried, but this was different. He couldn’t ignore these cries.

  Brodie opened the door carefully, not wanting to frighten her. Moonlight lit the chamber enough that he could see her small form on the bed. She was wrapped tightly in her bed linen, evidently from tossing and turning with whatever was torturing her dreams.

  “Nay!” she cried out in a panic, wrestling again. “Do not kill me! Please!”

  His heart pounded. Kill her? The note! He closed the door so others wouldn’t hear h
er fearful sobs and then rushed to her. “Anna,” he said quietly, still fearing frightening her.

  She tried to fight her way from something but her arms were trapped. Her mind, too. She tossed her head back and forth, pleading, “Please! I do not want to die. Please.”

  Not knowing what else to do, he sat on the side of the bed and began tugging the linen from around her. “Anna, ‘tis all right. Ye are safe.”

  Her eyes shot open and she looked at him in such desperation that he knew right then that he would slay any dragons necessary for her. No one would ever harm her. No one.

  “Brodie?” She blinked at him, her chest rising and falling in rapid breaths. She trembled.

  He sat still, having pulled the linen completely free of her now. Then he couldn’t keep from reaching down to gently push the hair off her sweat-covered brow. The mere touch sent awareness sizzling through him.

  She lurched upward, flung herself into his arms and clung to him. “I was so scared.” She sniffled and he felt fresh tears wetting his shirt. “They were trying to kill me.”

  He held her to him, splaying his hand on the back of her head, as desperate to hold her as she to be held. “Who, Anna? Who was trying to kill ye?” Mayhap she recognized a face in her nightmare. It could be false, but he needed anything at all to help figure this out.

  She snuggled closer, rubbing against his already hard erection, not seeming to notice…but he did. He should have worn braies this night instead of his kilt with nothing under it. He tried to inch her away. She only moved closer.

  “I am so alone. So awfully alone.” She was sobbing again, trembling again. Somehow she was facing him, straddling him. Somehow he ended up lying on his back. Her chemise had ridden too high on her thighs, her bare bottom far too close. Only the thinness of his kilt kept his cock from sliding into her body.

  “Oh, Anna, sweet Anna,” he moaned, fighting to keep from taking her as he so badly wanted to do.

  Her face mirrored confusion even as he saw her eyes soften with desire. He doubted she fully understood what she was doing. She lifted up enough to reach between them and raise his kilt. Her small mouth moved into an “O” and she gave a tiny sigh of wonderment.

  Brodie had frozen, afraid if he moved at all, he would only make the problem worse.

  Then she reached out a hand and all the breath left his body. She touched him, gently moved her hand up and down his pulsing shaft. “God’s teeth!” he gritted out, dying at such a light touch.

  She looked at him, smiling like she’d found a wondrous treasure. “’Tis soft, yet so hard.” She moved her hand once more.

  He didn’t think he could survive this. “I am no’ that strong, Anna.”

  Her head tipped to one side and she frowned in puzzlement. “You are very strong, Lord Devil. The strongest man I have ever known.”

  He groaned as her fingers lightly played over his shaft again. “Nay, I mean strong enough no’ to…”

  The suddenly bold woman lifted up, wiggled closer and bent over to kiss him, which he couldn’t resist. Then as he arched upward to hold her and plunder her mouth in frantic need, she sighed and sat down. His cock drove right up inside her, clear to the hilt.

  She cried out, but he held onto her so that her cries went into his mouth. Her obvious innocent’s pain lasted only a moment and she slowly relaxed.

  Finally he let go and she eased back to look at him. “I did not mean to…” She looked down at where his rod entered her body. “I should…”

  Brodie gripped her around the waist and held her in place. His cock was already moving inside her; her inner muscles already massaging him. “It matters no’ now. I canna stop what I must do, nor I think can you.”

  She squirmed and gently moved, sighing in obvious pleasure at the sensations she felt. Her eyes were glazed as she focused on him. “’Tis a wonderful thing, this.”

  He reached for her plump breasts, taking each one in a hand, molding them. Her eyes widened and she smiled. She was so responsive, so perfect. Still, he felt shame for what they were doing. He’d taken her innocence, even though by accident. He was betraying Agatha. Yet there was no going back now.

  “Even if we have only this one time, sweet Anna, I want to do this right.” Although she appeared to be content to sit there impaled on his rod, slowly moving and steadily finding more and more pleasure, he wanted to do the taking. He flipped her onto her back, his cock still deep inside her.

  She sighed in delight, her muscles clutching him tighter. “Aye, I like this, too, my lord.”

  “Ye’re going to like what I do next even more.” Then he showed her exactly how wonderful it could be to make love with someone you cared for.

  Dawn was starting to creep into the room when Brodie next awakened and tried to slip from Annabel’s side. She caught his arm before he could get off the bed and smiled knowingly up at him.

  “What happened last night changes nothing, my lord. I understand as much. But I will always have the memory to carry with me.”

  It felt like a knife was twisting in his gut. “I wish it could be different.”

  She tugged the bed linen over her naked body. Somehow during their numerous bouts of making love she’d lost her chemise, just as he’d lost his shirt and kilt.

  “I will be leaving with the Campbells,” she said quietly.

  “Another few days. I need ye to stay another few days.” If he didn’t get a response from The MacKay by then, he would have to let her leave.

  “Why do you insist on that? I have already been here so long, too long.” Tears were filling her eyes. “It will hurt too much to stay here, to be near you, to not be able to touch you again.”

  He knew exactly how she felt, but he neither wanted her to leave with the Campbells—who he didn’t trust—or leave before MacKay could possibly arrive. He should tell her, and yet he didn’t want to get her hopes up falsely. “Three more days.”

  She didn’t look happy, but she nodded agreement. “As long as you keep your distance from me. I will take my meals sitting with the Campbells.”

  He hated that, wanted every bit of her last days at least near him part of the time. But she was right. Distance would be best. He owed that much to Agatha.

  Brodie got up and dressed quickly, praying he could get down the hall to his bedchamber without being noticed. Fortunately it was still early. He stopped when he went to the door and faced her, grimly saying, “I canno’ break my word to King Edward or to Lady Stonewall. But if we made a babe, I want to ken aboot it. I will claim it as mine.”

  Annabel gaped at him and put a hand across her flat stomach. “You…you would take my child from me?”

  “Nay. I would ne’er do that to ye or the babe. But the babe would carry my name.” With that he left the room, shutting the door behind him. Walking away from the only woman he would ever love.

  * * *

  “Both of ye, upstairs! To my solar! Now!”

  Annabel stiffened from where she’d been arguing heatedly with Agatha in front of the fireplace. Brodie had walked into the great hall and was furious. His words and the tone behind them did not bode well for her bottom, or for Agatha’s bottom. Guiltily Annabel glanced at him. “We should have…” It was too late for apologizing for once again arguing in front of the few servants and handful of men in the hall.

  Agatha stamped her foot. “Nay! I will not be ordered upstairs like some disobedient child.”

  Annabel simply started walking toward the stairs. She knew well enough from past such behavior to her parents that it only made the situation worse. She certainly didn’t want to get her bottom swatted in front of others. Foolish woman.

  Her foot was on the staircase when she heard the hard Swat!, followed by Agatha’s outraged yelp. She also heard the smattering of chuckles in the hall and her face flamed in embarrassment. Probably everyone already understood what their laird intended to do, but now it was made definitely clear. He was going to heat a pair of women’s bottoms.

  It
had been two days since Brodie had last touched her, in a far more intimate way. Although there was a great deal of “intimacy” involved at baring your bottom for someone else even if it was to get it spanked. She walked quickly to the solar, wishing only to get this over with. They both had been warned about this matter before and yet they’d gone against his order to keep any argument between them private. She would accept her due. This would surely be the last time Brodie punished her, since she planned to leave with the Campbells in another two days.

  Agatha complained every inch of the way up the stairs and down the hall. Since she was still new to being punished, Brodie might be lenient with her yet. But if she didn’t learn soon, Annabel knew his patience would thin and her bottom would suffer greatly. Which might help the woman. She had a very bad attitude most of the time.

  Annabel stopped in front of the big wooden desk and watched Agatha storm into the room. Brodie’s fierce scowl warned of his anger. He shut the door with a slam.

  “Both of ye, raise yer skirts, and bend over the desk,” he bit out the demand. His hand had gone to his belt and he removed it while walking toward them.

  Annabel felt flutters of dread in her stomach. “Lord…” At his heated look she stopped speaking and turned away.

  “What are you doing?” Agatha squeaked in horror.

  Annabel had already tucked her skirts beneath her stomach and leaned over the desk. She glanced at Agatha and said briskly, “Do as he told you or it will only be worse.”

  Agatha looked rebellious until Brodie said grimly, “Yer partner in crime is right. Unless ye want twice as many lashes with me belt, get yerself in position.”