IntoEternity

by Christina James

  He moved to roll off her to face his man and Gusty grabbed the front of his tunic to hold him still. He glanced at her flushed cheeks and she ducked her head to hide her face against his chest.

  “Don’t you dare move!”

  Her harsh whisper in his ear had him glancing down at her with amusement until realization hit him. His lady’s gown was opened, fully revealing her tantalizing assets. He started to laugh but her fist hitting him in the chest turned his chuckle into a feigned groan of pain.

  “Careful, love, you might bruise me.” He grinned down at her as he addressed his second in command. “What is it, Davin? Can you not see I am engaged at the present?”

  “Aye, Alexander, I could not help but notice. But you need to hear this.”

  The tone of Davin’s voice peaked Alexander’s interest. The man knew better than to disturb Alexander at such an intimate moment unless it was important.

  “Don’t you dare move,” Gusty warned him again and tightened her grip on his clothing.

  “Go away, Davin. I will join you at the front gate in a few moments.”

  “Aye. But you had better hasten. There’s trouble afoot.” With those parting remarks, Davin left them alone in the secluded garden.

  Even after Davin left, Alexander had to pry Gusty’s hands away. He sat back on his haunches, straddling her hips as he looked down at his love’s flushed face. He did not know whether to laugh or weep at their situation. Gazing down at the beautiful half-clothed woman under him, he settled for a self-deprecating grin.

  “Sorry, my love. It seems that duty calls once again. Damn but this is getting to be more than just a little frustrating.” He swiftly pulled her bodice back over her beautiful breasts and then did up her laces. He didn’t need the extra temptation of her sweet flesh when his aroused body was protesting the abuse of having to leave her at that moment. He swore silently that if Davin’s urgent circumstances were not as vital as he made them sound, Alexander was going to thrash the giant warrior into oblivion.

  “Stay here, my sweet selkie.” He gave her one last hot, passionate kiss before rising to his feet. “I will return shortly.”

  “I am not going to wait here in the garden for you. How would it look for me if one of the nuns came by and found me lounging here under this tree looking like this? It would be too embarrassing!” She stood up, gathering her dignity around her like a mantle. As she started to walk past him, her head held high, he swatted her sweet little arse with a resounding thwack, causing her to yelp.

  She turned, no doubt ready to give him a piece of her mind, but his lips were there to stop any words from escaping. The urgency of the kiss reminded him only too vividly of their brief interlude and he wished fervently they had not been so rudely interrupted.

  * * * * *

  Bart groaned and rolled from between the thighs of the once exquisitely beautiful woman he had just used to satisfy his animal needs. He was breathless from his sexual efforts, soaked with his own sweat and seed. Imogen merely reached for the bedcovers and pulled them up over her lush body. He cursed when he noticed that his exertions of the past few minutes had barely affected the indifferent woman who shared his bed. She was indeed a cold fish and even as he sated himself on her, she had just lain there unmoving.

  His mind wandered back in time to when they had been young and romantic and had taken pleasure in the hot passion that had flared between them whenever they had come together. Theirs had never been a true love match. More like lust, good, self-satisfying lust. At one time, they had not been able to get enough of each other. But over the years she had changed, growing embittered and increasingly unfeeling toward his sexual overtures.

  Even her own daughters had quit coming to visit her. They were happy in their own lives and he could not blame them for avoiding the sour woman their mother had become. If she were not presently helping him with a crucial matter, he would probably not be here either. He had no need of her now that he had found another who appreciated his sexual prowess and expertise. The thought of his young mistress’ beautiful body welcoming him had his manhood flexing and he took a deep breath to calm himself.

  “Are you quite finished?” Imogen asked.

  Her voice grated and he flinched as he rose from the bed.

  “Aye, I’m finished with you.”

  “Then go and wash. Your stench is revolting.”

  “Are you sure it is not your rotten core that has just rubbed off onto me?”

  “You bloody bastard! Take care what you say to me. Without my help you would be nowhere with all your scheming. It is because of me that everything has fallen into place exactly as you wished. With my help, you will soon rule the northern clans. You have me to thank for that. So stop your sniveling and get out.”

  Bart wasn’t about to let lose the retort that clamored at his lips. He was too superstitious to curse his good fortune at this late date. Imogen spoke truthfully; he would soon be in control of four of the most powerful clans in the Highlands. His plan to gain control of Clan Sutherland was almost complete. He had already taken care of his other nephews and the previous Laird, Seamus, and his brother Allister and his wife. The raids on their outer holdings had been well planned. Soon Alexander and Duncan would be in their graves as well and Clan Sutherland would fall to Bart.

  Imogen would do her part by delivering the poisoned wine to Malcolm Sinclair and the revenge she had sought for years would be complete. Imogen would then be free to marry Bart, bringing to their marriage the wealth of her dead husband and an alliance with the Sinclairs since she was the standing Lady Sinclair. She was also the only heir to her own father’s fortune and with their marriage the MacKay would back him in his plans to take the throne.

  He had already put into play his scheme to marry Augusta off to the Ross. Her grandfather, the MacKay, had agreed to help in this. With Bart’s connection to the MacKay and therefore the Ross, who was cousin to Edgar, and the unforeseen deaths of Malcolm Sinclair, Alexander Sutherland, and Duncan Sutherland, Black Bart would soon realize his dream of obtaining the throne of Scotia. He would be able to challenge Edgar with a magnificent arm to back him in his quest.

  * * * * *

  Gusty stopped beside Alexander’s mount, looking up at him. Her face showed her every emotion… Her disappointment that he was leaving at this important time in their relationship, her fear he would not return, that he might go off and get himself killed. And finally, her anger at being left behind.

  Alexander recognized the rebellious expression but he did not have time for her peevishness right now. He had no choice. Important matters awaited his attention and Augusta would have to become accustomed to his being called away on a moment’s notice. He refused to be intimidated by that look.

  “I have to go, Gusty,” Alexander stated in a voice that brooked no argument. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye to see how she was accepting his words. He had received news that did not sit well with him. He jerked at the leather cinch of his saddle until he was satisfied with its fit and continued to check the rest of his gear.

  “What has happened, Alexander? Tell me.”

  She touched him lightly on the arm but he was so tense even her attempts to soothe him had little effect.

  “It is just a little business I must see to.” He thrust his blade into its sheath with a mighty jab and then took the reins from the stable boy and swung up into his saddle.

  “Let me come with you. I am fully recovered now. There is no need for you to leave me behind.” Gusty spoke in a low, pleading voice.

  “Nay, Gusty. You will stay here with your father and mother where you will be safe. I will return in a few days.”

  He turned his mount around to leave but stopped when he saw the determined set of her jaw and the devilish glint in her golden eyes. He could almost read her thoughts of rebellion. He dismounted and strode back to face his unhappy wife. He leaned down until his nose nearly touched hers, gently cupping her neck with his hand as his lips stopped
just short of kissing her.

  “I know what you are thinking, Gusty, and I say nay. That is my final answer.”

  “We are not on a game show, buddy. So keep your answers to yourself.”

  “What is a game show?”

  “Never mind,” she muttered. “You need me to come with you, Alexander. I could help in whatever it is you have to do.”

  “I need no help hunting down Duncan. I have had much practice in that endeavor.”

  “Duncan is missing? Why didn’t you tell me? The poor baby. He must be scared to death, perhaps lost in the woods.”

  Alexander’s roar of laughter echoed across the courtyard.

  “Thank you, Gusty! I needed something to lighten my mood before I set out to find that little scoundrel and skin him alive.”

  “Why would you do that? The poor child is lost, for God’s sake!”

  “Nay, not lost. Run away is more like it. He has been pulling this same stunt since his father—my cousin Allister—was murdered. It is as if he were tempting Fate. His adventuring has taken him onto Ross holdings, MacKay holdings and Sinclair holdings. He has even gone so far as to roam across Gunn holdings. The lad’s recklessness is going to lead him into a great deal of trouble one of these days.”

  “Oh.” Gusty sighed. “I am sorry to cause you any further problems, Alexander. I will not argue with you about this. But if you do not return soon, I just might run away so you will have to come after me.”

  Alexander shook his head in amusement as he remounted his horse. “You would not make it far.”

  “Oh? And why is that, my lord husband?” she asked through gritted teeth, obviously unhappy.

  “You would lose your way before you made it more than a few steps into the woods. Women have a terrible sense of direction.”

  He turned and walked his horse to the outer gate before she could reply but she followed behind him.

  “What makes you think women have no sense of direction? I have never been lost in my life.”

  “Aye you have.”

  “When was that?”

  He stopped, leaned down to grasp her about the waist and lifted her onto his lap.

  “You’ve been lost most of your life, Gusty, until I found you and brought you home again.”

  Tears blinded her as she clutched at his shoulders and lifted her lips to his. Alexander tasted the saltiness of her tears on his lips when his mouth took possession of hers in a kiss that was meant to remind her of just how much she loved him.

  “I will return for you shortly and then we will go home.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Three long days slipped by and still there was no word from Alexander. Gusty kept herself occupied by getting better acquainted with her parents. They could not seem to get enough of her company and she found herself being smothered by their affection and advice. From the moment she awoke every morning until she retired each night she found one or the other of her parents waiting on her. But secretly she had to admit she enjoyed the attention.

  The first thing Malcolm Sinclair wanted his daughter to understand was how it came about that she and her brother Michael had been put into the care of Maeve and Hagen, her so-called grandparents. He recited his history with her mother and Isabelle’s sister, Imogen, the woman who was his wife. After Gusty listened to the story she could well understand why he took Isabelle as his mistress. The children they conceived had been a bonus in their relationship. But it was a bonus they were not able to expose. It was too dangerous to announce that he had two babes by his mistress. His wife was a very jealous woman. Despite Malcolm’s attempts to keep his children safe Imogen had eventually found out about his affair with her sister and tried to take her revenge out on Gusty and Michael.

  Maeve and Hagen had spirited them away just in time and Malcolm praised the old couple for their loyalty to him and for their intelligence in handling the dangerous situation that could have meant the deaths of them all. Tears filled her eyes as Gusty listened to her father recount the story of the night he had ridden to the cottage hidden in the woods, expecting to find his children murdered in their beds. But instead he found that his two old friends had taken it upon themselves to rescue his children and hide them away for their own safety. He told her how relieved and yet also how heartbroken he had been when he realized it might be many years before he would see her and Michael again.

  Gusty admitted she had no memory of her early childhood. She only recalled the years she lived with Maeve and Hagen and Michael in the future. With sadness in his eyes he told her about the first four years of her life as he remembered them. She was so moved she threw herself into her father’s arms and wept tears of happiness that she had been born to such a loving, brave man.

  Though Gusty did not understand all the rules of society just yet, she knew enough to realize her father had made an enormous sacrifice. In protecting his children from the insane jealousy of his wife, he had given up the joy of watching them grow from babes into adulthood. But he had also taken into account the politically greedy people who would have stopped at nothing to use his children to achieve their own plans.

  As the only male offspring of Malcolm Sinclair, Michael was in line to inherit the title of clan chieftain and Gusty was considered a great prize, able to bring her husband into a powerful position in the clan. For those reasons, their reappearance and his acknowledgment of them as his heirs was going to cause outbursts of jealousy and hatred in some quarters and even a motive to murder in others. Clan Sinclair would, of course, accept them because of their father but several others who had thought themselves in line for the leadership of the clan would not be so willing to receive them due to their illegitimacy. Malcolm Sinclair wanted to make sure his daughter understood the seriousness of her situation so she would be cautious of the people she would be coming into contact with when it became known she was his true daughter.

  Gusty took everything her father told her about her high station in life with a grain of salt. Although amazed to find out her parents were alive, if she were to live her life as they dictated, it would mean living in total seclusion and constant fear. That she would not do. She was a modern, independent woman, quite capable of taking care of herself and she had the accolades and certificates from all those self-defense classes to prove it.

  She smiled at her father, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and assured him she would take everything he had told her into consideration. He stopped her before she left him and made her promise to be on her guard and never to leave the safety of the convent walls without an escort. Her life in the twelfth century was becoming a disturbing existence to say the least.

  Gusty’s father kept her company as she made several forays into the countryside around the abbey when she was not busy helping her mother in her hospice. Gusty truly enjoyed the long rides they took and the time she and Malcolm spent together. But in the morning on the fourth day after Alexander had left her, Malcolm had to leave to attend to his clan duties. He promised to come back to visit her soon. But when she invited him to come to the Sutherland keep after she settled in there, he hedged a bit before giving her a vague rejoinder that left her puzzled.

  “It may be a while before you are settled in your husband’s keep, Augusta. I need more time. Time with my daughter before I give her into the hands of another man. Do not hate me for being selfish in this matter.”

  “I know you are not happy with Alexander handfasting with me but he is mine. And I am staying with him. I am sorry this makes you unhappy, Father. You will just have to get used to the idea. That is just the way it is.”

  Gusty hugged him tight and he kissed her cheek roughly.

  “I will see you soon, daughter mine.” He hesitated and with a look of regret in his eyes he shook his head and turned to mount up.

  She watched as he rode away without a backward glance. Gusty attributed his strange behavior to him feeling guilty because he had to leave her and her mother so soon.

  After her father
left she spent time with her mother in the convent herbal distillery and hospice, volunteering to do some of the nursing. The number of people who came to the abbey seeking medical help amazed her. Isabelle’s reputation as a great healer had spread far and wide. Gusty should not have been surprised that her mother enjoyed such fame, she was after all an intelligent, gentle woman and she had spent a great many years perfecting her talents. Day after day, Gusty watched as her mother counseled and nursed the poor who came to her for advice and medicine for their ailments. Isabelle cared for everybody with unending dedication and patience.

  When she still had no word from Alexander, Gusty decided that the next time he made one of these jaunts—no matter the reason—she would accompany him. Regardless what his arguments might be, she would not let him talk her out of it. He swore he would return to her as soon as he could and here a week had passed since he left and still she waited for him. Her patience was quickly running thin.

  By the end of the week Gusty was so keyed up she decided to take the pleasant walk she and her father had shared before he left. After packing a small bag of food and a skin of water, she walked out the front gate of the abbey. She lifted her face to the warmth of the sun and took in a deep breath of sweet air before making her way around the high wall of the abbey. There she found the narrow path she and her father had taken that led up a small hill. All around, white and purple wildflowers added splashes of color to the scenery. Leisurely she made her way across the high meadow above the abbey where a small herd of sheep grazed in the thick green grass while a young herder slept under the shadows of a tall tree. As she turned and looked back down at the buildings below she sighed. What a peaceful, beautiful setting…a landscape created by a master painter.

  When she reached the far side of the meadow Gusty continued on, making her way along the barely discernible path through the shady forest. Once she reached the meandering stream flowing beneath the tall oaks and billowing willows at the lower end of the valley she would indulge herself and do a little skinny-dipping.