And this one had the look of a MacNachton, Raibeart thought as they all left the bedchamber, pausing only so that Madeleine could spit on the laird’s body. She was a little taller than most women, beautiful, and had long, thick black hair. He accepted a supporting hand from Jankyn as they made their way out of Dunmorton, listening to Madeleine’s whispered tales of her mother’s lovers. The description of the man her mother had believed was her father certainly sounded like one of his kinsmen. There was a good chance that Madeleine would find some close family at Cambrun.
His heart skipped in his chest like some untried lad’s when they reached the horses and Una rushed to greet him, her worry over his wound clear to read on her face. Raibeart began to believe that she cared for him, but now was not the time to try to make certain of that. He exchanged a grin with Jankyn over her head as she helped him with Tor, and then gave himself into her care. It was nice to be fussed over by a woman now and then, he decided.
Una quickly pushed aside her fear for Raibeart as they traveled back to Cambrun. He had looked so pale and weak, his clothes soaked in blood, when she had first seen him return from Dunmorton keep that her heart had clenched in fear. Each time they stopped to shelter from the sun, however, one or more of the MacNachtons would offer him blood, and she could see him grow stronger. She stayed close by his side, uncaring that she shared his blanket in front of everyone, and the last of her fear for him faded away. He had told her that he was hard to kill and she began to believe it.
She also began to believe that her friends would find a home at Cambrun. The women were treated with a courtesy she had rarely seen. The men readily accepted the boys, and she could see Bartram and Colla growing stronger and less wary by the hour. Little Joan and Alma were in serious danger of being heartily spoiled before they even reached Cambrun, the men revealing their love for children in their every word and gesture. Her friends were safe and would be cared for. Una knew she could cease to worry about them now.
Her concern over her own place at Cambrun grew, however, no matter how hard she tried to smother it. She was Raibeart’s lover, but she ached to be so much more. Nothing he said or did gave her the confidence to think that she was or ever would be.
As they rode through the gates of Cambrun an hour before sunrise to be lavishly greeted by the rest of the clan, Una decided it was pride that held her back from reaching for that commitment she craved. She was going to have to swallow that pride and conquer her fear of being rejected. The moment everyone was settled, she was going to confront Raibeart. She loved the man and could no longer continue on as just his lover, waiting in terror for the moment he would set her aside. By the time the sun rose for a second time, she would know if she had a place in his heart, if she even had a small chance of finding one, or she would be preparing to live away from Raibeart. She could not endure the torment of uncertainty any longer.
Chapter Ten
“Those two bairns are going to be spoiled.”
Raibeart grinned at Bridget. He had not seen her since they had arrived just before dawn and gone straight to their beds. He idly wondered how she could look so much more pregnant than she had when they had left. It had been less than a week.
“Aye, but I think they deserve some spoiling,” he said.
“Verra true.” She shivered and idly rubbed her arms. “It sickens me to think that a mon could treat two bairns as MacKay treated them. Him and his men. They didnae see two wee lassies. They saw animals, beasts they could feed on. They were no better than your wild, arrogant ancestors.”
“Aye, and yet they think us evil and strive to kill us all.”
“Weel, that threat is gone and we have one more small piece in the puzzle that is the leader of the hunters.”
“I had hoped for more, much more. ’Tis verra clear that this leader doesnae even trust his most ardent followers.”
“We will find him.” She looked around, nodding slightly each time she saw one of the rescued women. “I think those women have cast aside most of their fears. They willnae remain unwed for long. Our men are nay ones to blame them for the abuse they suffered, and, once they see that, they will find themselves claimed. And our men will have the sense to be gentle with them.”
“ ’Tis nay what the laird wanted. They are nay Outsiders.”
“Wheesht, he doesnae care. They have the mix in the blood, some more than others, so ’tis still new blood for the clan. Cathal just wants his men content. After seeing how the cat still lingers in my Callan blood, despite the many years we have diligently tried to breed it out, he kens now that it will be impossible to rid the clan of all that makes it different and feared. He even admits that he is happy about that. Enough will fade so that many of us will be able to fool the superstitious into thinking we are just like them. So, ye dinnae need to fear that he will disapprove of ye mating with Una.”
“So he said and I havenae mated with her yet.” Raibeart knew that was not exactly true, that he had claimed her in his heart and mind, and accepted Bridget’s look of feminine disgust as well earned. “Everyone kens she is mine.”
“Do they? No mark, no claim.”
Raibeart frowned when Bridget pointed toward Una and he saw Einar was working his charm on her and Madeleine. He told himself that dark stirring of jealousy was unwarranted, that Einar was flirting with Madeleine not Una. Then Una laughed and lightly patted Einar’s arm. He heard Bridget laugh when he growled, but he ignored her and strode toward his woman, intending to tell her quite firmly that touching other men was not allowed.
“Ye are a wee bit slow, Raibeart,” said Jankyn as Raibeart started to pass by him. “No mark, no claim.”
“I mean to change that soon,” he said and then cursed when he saw Una walk away to go to talk to Allana.
“We are a clan without enough women for our men and it isnae easy for one of us to find a mate. Going outside of Cambrun is a risk, a deadly one. If she is yours, make it clearer than just sharing her bed. If not, stand back.”
“Oh, she is mine. I have stepped carefully because she was so intent upon rescuing her friends. Once I heard why she sought aid, it was something I was also intent upon. I have told her a lot of things about the clan, but nay about the mating bite. I told her I was wooing her.” He shrugged when Jankyn gave him a pitying look and shook his head. “I held myself back from giving her the bite because I also thought that she, more than many another woman, needed to choose, to be asked.”
“Ah, aye, ye were right in that, but I think ye failed in letting her ken just how much ye want her to choose you.”
Raibeart grimaced. “And take the chance that she doesnae wish to choose me? Nay an easy thing for a mon to do.” He held up a hand when Jankyn started to speak. “I will grasp my waning courage in both hands and do it verra soon.”
“I am thinking ye dinnae need as much courage as ye think.” Laughing softly, Jankyn slapped Raibeart on the back and walked away.
Was Jankyn right? Raibeart wondered as he watched Una talk with Allana. It did not matter if the man was, he decided. Until he heard Una tell him that she was his, the doubts would remain. Since she did not appear inclined to speak from her heart, then he would have to take the first step. She had not shied away from any of the truth about what the MacNachtons were. She shared a hot, wild passion with him. She had fussed over him when he had been wounded. Raibeart took comfort in those signs of caring as he planned the best way to get her alone.
“Your mon is looking at ye again.”
Una frowned at Allana and then peeked over her shoulder. Raibeart was talking with the laird. It had troubled her a bit that he had not stayed at her side, but she had busied herself with making certain all of her friends were content.
“He isnae,” she said. “He is talking to his laird.”
“Our laird now.”
There was a steely conviction in Allana’s voice. “Ye have decided that ye will stay here, become part of the clan?”
“Aye, and I am a part now
. Have the blood, dinnae I? But, it isnae just that. I feel safe, as safe as one of us probably can ever feel. I have spent my whole life being in fear, being different enough to draw the dangerous attention of the superstitious and the so verra righteous. I am tired of it. I belong here, with these people. I dinnae have to come up with some tale for why I shy away from the noonday sun or hide that dark hunger that comes o’er me now and then.” She suddenly grinned. “And there are some verra handsome men here.”
Una smiled back but then asked quietly, “And ye think ye could be with a mon?”
“Och, aye. Nan, Mora, and I all talked it over, and we think we can get over what was done. It wasnae done for long, was it? Once that fool failed in the bedding of one of us, he didnae want to see us in his bed again. Our good fortune was that he was a greedy bastard and didnae want to share us, either. And it was just a way to beat us, wasnae it? To shame us and make us cower. The best way to see that that bastard failed in that is to get on with our lives.”
“True, ’tis just that it is such a deeply personal wound.”
“ ’Tis, but it isnae mortal. Ye planning on getting on with your life, too, or are ye just going to leave that bonnie big mon of yours wondering?”
“He is bonnie, but he isnae really mine.” She frowned when Allana made a soft sound of disgust. “Weel, he isnae. He hasnae said he is.”
“Una, men dinnae always say what they feel. ’Tisnae monly, is it? He hasnae e’en looked at the rest of us. He watches ye as if he is afraid ye will disappear. And, if that isnae enough to make ye ken what ye could have, ye didnae see his face when ye were laughing with that bonnie Einar. Someone always has to take the first step and, when it comes to matters of the heart, that someone is usually the woman.” Allana patted Una’s arm. “Ye love him. Let that be the source of the courage ye need.”
Una was still thinking over what Allana had said as she undressed for bed. All her friends were free and obviously settling in at Cambrun. The women were already being courted. The little girls had found an aunt who wept with joy. Both the boys had found relatives as well. No one was certain yet who she might be related to, but Jankyn had promised that he was looking before slyly assuring her that he knew for certain she was not related to Raibeart.
“And I dinnae think I want to ken why he had searched out that fact so quickly,” she muttered as she crawled into bed.
On her back with her arms crossed beneath her head, Una wondered if Raibeart would come to her. He had crawled into bed with her when they had sought their rest after rescuing the others, but she was not certain if that was just habit born of their time together, or because he really wanted to be with her, even if all they did was go to sleep. She blushed as she suddenly recalled how very wide awake he had been when the sun had set.
Passion was not love. Innocent though she had been before she had met Raibeart, even she knew that. He had saved her and helped her save her friends, but he was a knight and that was what they were supposed to do. She and her friends were also of his clan, carrying MacNachton blood in their veins. He was always touching her, but that, too, could have its roots in fickle passion. The only thing she had to cling to as a hope that she might be more to him than a lover was that he had said he was wooing her.
Una was just deciding that she would give herself an aching head if she kept trying to understand his every gesture and word when Raibeart walked into the room. She watched as he moved around the bedchamber as if it was his when she knew it was not. He washed up, shed his clothes, and climbed into bed with her as if he had every right. Since they were not married, he did not, not even if he had been her lover.
“Is something wrong, Una?” Raibeart asked as he propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her frowning face.
Raibeart decided that Una did not look like a woman ready to be made love to. Nor a woman who was in the mood to accept his fumbling declarations of love. She looked like she wanted to hit him.
“I am thinking that ye act as if ye belong here when I ken that ye have your chambers down in the caves,” she said.
“I belong here because ye are here.”
That quiet statement, Raibeart’s rough voice full of emotion as he spoke, made her anger flee. It was no declaration of how he felt, but it was enough to touch her heart. He did belong at her side. What she needed to know was just how long he intended to stay there. Una did not want to push him to say things he did not feel but began to think she had a right to know what plans he had for her.
“I cannae be a leman, Raibeart,” she said. “I cannae bear to shame myself like that before my friends.”
He placed his hand on the side of her cheek and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “Ye are far more than that, lass, and there is no shame in our being together.”
She was about to argue that when he kissed her. For a moment, she tried to hold back the desire that his kiss always stirred within her. They needed to talk. She was ready to take the chance to speak of what was between them, to try and grasp for more than passion from him despite knowing how it would tear her heart out if he proved to feel no more than desire and liking for her. Then he unlaced her night shift and slid his big warm hand over her bared breast. Una wrapped her arms around his neck and decided they could talk afterward.
The way he stroked her body, touching her as if she were some precious piece of glass, made Una’s passion run even hotter. She caressed his back as he kissed his way to her breasts, and arched in delight when the heat of his mouth encircled the aching tip of one while his skilled fingers teased the other until she burned. This time, when he kissed his way down her stomach and began to make love to her with his mouth, she did not flinch, but immediately opened herself to his intimate caresses. Una wanted to try to make him see what was within her heart by completely surrendering herself to the passion they shared.
Lost in the wildness of what he could make her feel, it took Una a minute to realize that, although he had joined their bodies, he was not moving. She looked up at his face, reaching up to stroke the high color on his cheekbones with her fingertips. He looked so fierce and determined, she thought as she slowly wrapped her legs around his waist and, using her heels against his buttocks, tried to make him move.
“Una, I said I was wooing ye,” he began.
“Ye wish to talk about this now?”
“I but wish ye to ken that I wooed ye so that ye would have a choice, me or freedom to go and find another.”
Beginning to guess what he was working himself up to say, Una nearly grinned at the way he growled out those last six words. Raibeart did not want to let her go and find another. In fact, if she did try, that another could be in real danger. The possessiveness beneath his words thrilled her.
“I dinnae want another, Raibeart.”
“Good, because tonight I mean to mark ye as mine.”
“Mark me?”
“Aye. I am going to give ye what we call the mating bite. It doesnae fade away like the others I have given ye. We dinnae ken why, but once given, it stays and is a sign all MacNachtons can read.”
“One that says mine?” Una wondered if she ought to tell him he was sweating rather a lot and then just smiled at him. “How intriguing.”
“I want to give ye the chance to say aye or nay,” he said between gritted teeth, his body screaming for him to move, to give it the release it needed.
“How sweet. Aye.”
“Una . . .” He choked when he felt her inner muscles squeeze him like a hot fist. “Jesu, woman,” he gasped. “Ye cannae do that when I am trying to talk, to tell ye that I need ye to agree because . . .”
“I just agreed,” she snapped and, grabbing him by the hair, pulled his face down to hers. “Aye. Hear that? Aye.” She kissed him with all the love and heated passion she felt for him.
Raibeart gave up even trying to talk and lost himself in the heat of her. Just as he felt her body tighten around his, the throb of that impending release echoing in his own body, he pushed her
hair back from her neck. He was fighting to find the wit to ask one more time when his delicate woman placed a hand on the back of his neck and pushed his face against her neck. If he was not burning alive with desire, his fangs aching for a taste of her, Raibeart suspected he would have laughed.
Even as Una felt her body shudder with release, there was a sharp pain in her neck. As before, that sent her passion soaring to new heights yet; this time, it was even fiercer, even more blinding. She was so lost in her own pleasure that she only faintly heard Raibeart call out her name in a feral roar followed by the word mine. Una held him close to her even as the searing delight she had felt tear through her began to fade away. Nipping his ear, she whispered of her love for him.
It was not easy, but Raibeart finally found the strength to move, pleased to note that he had retained enough wit to collapse just to the side of Una and not flat on top of her. He touched his ear, the one she had whispered into, and eyed her warily. Usually the sight of her sprawled on her back, her lovely breasts rising and falling as her heavy breathing slowly eased, made him proud of himself, for it was proof that he had pleasured her well. Now he wanted her with her wits all intact so that he could ask if she had really whispered that she loved him.
He touched a kiss to her mouth, pleased when she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Ye are mine now, Una. This mark will ne’er fade.”
Una lazily lifted one hand to comb her fingers through his thick hair. “I ken it.”
“Ye whispered in my ear whilst we were in paradise.”
She bit back a grin for he looked very much like a small boy trying to find a way to get a special treat without bluntly demanding it. “I ken it. Wasnae sure ye would hear me with all that bellowing ye were doing, though.”
He blinked and then shifted so that he was on top of her, most of his weight resting on his forearms. She was teasing him. “Say it. Say it whilst looking me in the eye and whilst I am not so lost in passion that I probably wouldnae recognize my own name.”
Highland Hunger Page 9
