“Lie down again and go back to sleep. You’ll need your strength for we’ve a long walk ahead of us on the morrow.”
She shook her head. “Nay, I cannot.”
He sat up. “What happened in your night terror?”
“Wolf. A wolf happened,” she whispered.
“Aye, I thought as much. I should nay have told you the truth.”
He sighed and wiped his hand across his forehead. “Ahhh,” he said, hesitating. He wanted to say something, or do something, but seemed far from sure. But in the end, his red-blooded nature won through. He lifted a length of his plaid, indicating that she come join him.
She didn’t hesitate. She dived for his bed and snuggled in. “Thank you. The dream was truly awful. I know I won’t get a wink’s sleep lying on my own.”
Tam rolled his eyes as if to say that now he was the one who wouldn’t be getting any sleep. But he also had the beginnings of a smile on his lips.
She threw her arms and legs around him. The more of his body she touched, the better she felt. There was really no need to act ladylike out here in this wilderness. She didn’t care about being proper anymore, not in a forest where folk got eaten. What she wanted right now was to feel safe. She had a yearning to sap a little of Tam’s strength. She pressed her lips against his warm neck. His heart beat a fast pace. She could feel it through the weathered skin of his neck. Mayhap he’d just awoken from his own disturbing dream.
“Can I sleep the rest of the night here?” she whispered. He groaned but didn’t say no.
“First and foremost, I’m a man, Juliette.”
“I know. A big strong one. You’re the sort of man who kills a wolf with his bare teeth.”
She couldn’t see but guessed that he made a face. “Nay, I’d use the bow.”
“Fine by me,” she mumbled into his neck.
He rolled her over, so she was lying on her back. Then, stretching over her, he lowered his head, so he could whisper into her ear. “You might be in more danger right here with me than out there in the forest with the wolf.”
“I’ll take my chances.” She closed her eyes and left the smile on her lips.
He stayed above her a moment, studying her face, and then he lowered his head. She felt his lips press against her neck. He kissed her gently, right beside her ear. She tried to pretend it was nothing, no more than a peck an aunt might give a niece. But truth was, her heart lunged as if falling from her chest.
“Still think you’re safe, Juliette?” he whispered.
“Of course,” she replied, pretending his kissing was having no effect.
Then he brought his lips to her cheek and trailed kisses downward, stopping at the edge of her mouth. Gently, with strong firm lips, he kissed the side of her mouth, deliberately just missing her lips.
“Still safe?”
She didn’t know, or care, anymore. There was only one thing that mattered, that he kept on doing what he was doing.
She felt his hand on the outside of her skirt. His hand was rising. It was now at the top of her leg. Then it swept over her hips and rested just above her mound. He rubbed his hand over and around her lower belly, and every so often, he’d graze his fingertips right over her mound. She was acutely aware of every stroke, every slight brush of his fingers.
He nuzzled his lips against the side of her face. His breathing was heavy, too, just like hers. His tongue trailed a line from her cheek to the edge of her mouth. She wanted to turn her head and kiss him hard, but they were playing some sort of game, and she was just beginning to understand the rules.
She reached up and cupped the side of his face. Her touch jolted him, making him jump. She felt the chills on his skin. Then he moved his lips back to her neck and sucked. She moaned, a low animal sound. The noise just escaped her mouth, and it did something strange to him too.
He rested his lips against hers but refused to let her kiss him properly. When she tried to meet his mouth with her tongue, he pulled back, and she was forced to relent and wait. He pressed his lips against her again, but this time harder. She moved, wriggled, and tried to tempt him to kiss her properly. Mayhap she shouldn’t have wriggled. He pressed his whole body hard against hers and rose and fell against her hips. He kept up his slow rocking movements, and when she strained to reach his mouth, he grazed her lips and rose again.
He was pressed against her, hard against her core, and although they were both fully clothed, she could feel the line and rigidness of his body. The feeling was delicious. When he slowed his rocking, she encouraged him on. She wasn’t sure what he’d done, exactly, only that it felt wonderful, and she’d die if he were to stop now. Her head rolled back, and she moaned.
“Don’t stop, please,” she pleaded, and he pressed harder against her. He kissed her then, gently, but she was too hungry for gentle. Gently was not what she wanted. She needed searing and deep and wildly passionate. She reared up, urging him on, forcing him to kiss her properly, and biting his lip. She wrapped her legs around him, locking the two of them together. They felt like one now—one body melded together. He continued his rocking, and suddenly the forest tilted, and she realised she was on the precipice. Then his hand slid onto her breast and touched her nipple, and the fire sent her over the edge.
“Lord in heaven,” she whispered against his neck, pressing her fingers hard into his back, wanting to scratch. The forest was spinning now. His rhythmic movements were having a magical effect on her body. But if he didn’t stop right now, she’d spiral out of control and fall apart.
“Tam,” she whispered, not sure if she wanted him to stop or rock harder. Her heals dug into his legs. She closed her eyes as the first wave struck. She clenched hold of his plaid as another wave of pleasure washed over her.
“Tam,” she cried out again, and he silenced her with his lips. She shuddered, her muscles deep within her core clamping tight. She should feel mortified, humiliated over what she’d just done, but his frenzied kisses told her he was pleased.
He studied her face and kissed every inch. Then he whispered close to her ear, “You are the most beautiful creature to ever walk God’s earth.”
She breathed heavily, waiting for her heart to quiet. Now she was sleepy, but deliciously so. How was it possible to remain fully clothed, yet feel so close, and so intimate with someone? Right now, she’d do anything for him—anything at all. But he was not as calm or content. He eased away and refused to return to his plaid.
“Come back again,” she offered, thinking that she could do something for him. He’d been wed before; he’d know what to do.
But he shook his head, declining her offer. Instead he paced the perimeter of the fire like an animal on a chain.
~ ~ ~
They walked all morn, and fortunately, the rain held off, although the heavy clouds looked like they were at war with each other and jostling for domination of the skies. Tam marched them all at a brisk pace. He had his bow at the ready and a collection of knives tied to his belt. Juliette trod behind him, next in line. She fancied that she’d been given this favoured position because she was Tam’s mate. Florie and her babe were in the middle, protected by everyone. If the grey wolf was out, skulking about and tracking their movements, his jaws dribbling saliva, then it would be the babe he’d try to snatch first. Florie was also in a weakened state and, therefore, least able to protect herself. Isabel marched in last position.
“I am taking up the rear because Tam knows that, after himself, I am the most accomplished hunter and the most able to defend us all.”
Juliette doubted it. She supposed that Tam had placed Isabel last because if he had to choose to sacrifice one of the women, Isabel would be his natural choice. Certainly, Isabel was the one Juliette would give up first.
They stopped for a noon break by a fresh-water brook. Tam built a fire, and they
shared some of the rabbit meat from last eve’s hunt.
Every so oft, Juliette looked up to find Tam’s gaze searing her skin. She steadfastly refused to think of last night because she could not do so and maintain her composure. One look at her crimson cheeks would be all it took. The others would know for certes that her head was filled with sinful thoughts.
She watched Mariot chatting away, her soul pure, open and giving. Mariot was not the sort of girl who would lose herself inside a man’s plaid. Tam was asking Mariot a question. “Your father gave you to the church to cover his tithes?”
“Yea, the clerics liked my broths and pies, so they were in agreement with the deal. They took me as payment. They planned to put me to work full time, cooking their meals.”
“What business was your father in?”
“We had a small land holding: pigs, sheep, chickens, grains. When I was young, my father sent me to the abbey to cook. Other families in my village also took turns offering their services to the church. One day a sennight they’d labour for free on the church land. But not us. We could not spare Pa or my brothers. They were needed on our own farm, caring for the animals and the crops. I am one of eight children, so you see my father had many mouths to feed. Instead of Pa or my brothers doing church service, Pa sent me. I’d cook for them one day a sennight. But the priests and brothers wanted me more oft than one day out of seven.”
“So, your Pa gave you to the church, permanently, and he no longer had to pay tithes?”
“Correct.”
Juliette wondered if she should be asking this next question. “What about now that you’ve run?”
Mariot stirred the meat broth. “He will have annual tithes to pay again. I have no idea how he will manage. The thought does trouble me.”
The last thing Juliette wanted was to make her new friend feel bad. “You gave four hard years to the church, against your will. Tis enough to get to heaven.”
Mariot looked up at her with earnestness. “You think so.”
“I know so.”
They both laughed because there was no earthly way that Juliette could possibly know that. But Mariot was nice to be around; she was honest and open and easy. Chatting with Mariot made Juliette pine for Vienna. She missed her sister. Was it not the chief reason she’d insisted on being wed to an Englishman? She could not bear the thought of moving so far from Vienna. But now, there was a new problem. She’d grown awfully fond of Tam. Now, she’d miss him dreadfully. Worse than that, she’d never see him again.
As the sun hit its highest point, they resumed their march homeward. There was still a long way to go. The going was slow, too, because they had a new mother and babe needing frequent stops.
It was late in the noon when Tam called an abrupt halt to their march and hustled the women into the trees. Juliette peeled her eyes for signs of the wolf. She saw none. Tam pulled the bow from his shoulder and readied an arrow. They stood thus, for what seemed like an endless time, before Juliette recognised the clod of horses’ hooves upon the forest floor. Florie put her wee babe to her breast to silence him, and the rest of them held their breaths.
A tall war horse charged between the trees, and he was quickly followed by a band of men on horseback, each wearing plaid. They rode with strength and sense of import. Each carried long swords and bows and knives.
Tam slipped out from behind the shelter of his tree. “Took your bleedin’ time, MacTavish!”
Much raucous laughter and back slapping followed. The men crowded around Tam, all yelling over each other. Heavy Gaelic conversation followed and clearly much delight in finding each other. But Juliette understood none of what was said, not until he called her name and she slipped over and smiled at the sweaty maul of men. Their voices fell to a hush. They spoke in whispered tones then. Juliette supposed they’d spotted the novices and were afeared of being with them, lest they offend God. Nay, that wasn’t it. Instead, all eyes were on her. Even Tam was looking at her differently now.
“What is it, Tam?” she asked.
“These are my kinsmen, Juliette. The king sent them to find us.”
“Hooray, tis grand. Thank you,” she said, smiling up at each one. But still they continued to stare.
“No thanks is necessary, Juliette,” Tam said.
“Why are they staring at me?”
He rubbed his jaw with his great hand. “They stare, believing what the king has told them.”
“What?”
“The king has declared you have magical powers, like your sister Sybilla.”
“What?”
“Aye. Sybilla cured a whole clan of folk who were cursed and couldn’t be saved.”
Juliette gave him a quizzical look. “I don’t believe in curses or that the folk in Caithness were cured magically by Sybilla and her husband. Anyway, what has that to do with me?”
“Remember the boat we raced?”
“Of course, I remember.”
“Aye, well the men in that boat drowned. All three of them. And they were hardy Scotsmen too. And look at you, a small and delicate Sassenach lass. Yet, somehow, you survived the storm and all that time in the sea. Even I was knocked about the rocks and cut into shreds.” Then he whispered as if not wanting the others to hear. “Juliette, you barely suffered a scratch.”
“I had cuts.” She gestured for the novices to step forth.
“I’m going to introduce the women.” Turning to address the king’s men, she said, “Look who we found: a group of novices wandering amid the forest. We’re bringing them home with us.”
The one they called MacTavish raised an eyebrow. He spoke to Tam in rushed Gaelic.
“What did he say?” Juliette prodded.
“Tavish says that you’re charmed like Sybilla. You save lives. You have saved a group of God’s own women lost and stranded in the wilderness. And the waves in the ocean cannot touch you either.”
Juliette rolled her eyes. “Stuff and nonsense. We both came across the novices, by accident. And if anyone saved them, it wasn’t me. You led everyone to safety. You are the hero.”
Tam dismissed that idea. “Tis a Highlander’s job to save folk. Tis expected. But fine Sassenach ladies do nay get shipwrecked, wash up out of the sea untouched, survive wicked outlaws, and then save a handful of God’s own women on the way home.”
“That is a fanciful telling. The truth was far less gallant.”
Tam whispered, “The men say you’re awfully lucky, Juliette. The king has already claimed you are some sort of magic doer. Wait till he hears about the lost women of God. Our king is a superstitious man. He’ll have new plans for you. I’m sure of it.”
“New plans?” She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that.
“Oh, aye. If I’m right, your life is about to take another turn.”
Chapter 22
Living through the past sennight had been like surviving a maelstrom. Juliette, Tam, and the novices travelled back to the king’s castle on the back of giant war horses. Those thuggish Highlander men had been out searching ever since Kenneth raised the alarm. No one expected the novices to be included in the find. The lady-nuns huddled together, struggling to adjust to their new reality: a world dominated by large hairy men with a strange burr to their voices.
For Juliette, arriving at Dingwall Castle was a bitter-sweet experience. She knew already from MacTavish that both her sisters were awaiting her arrival at the castle with wide, open arms. But, there was sadness too. The end of the journey meant saying goodbye to Tam.
She was barely off Tam’s destrier before Vienna flew into her arms. “God be blessed, Juliette. I just can’t believe you survived! You are a tough, wild woman now. You can do anything you set your mind to. I want to be like you.”
Juliette laughed. “Hardly. ‘Twas luck I survived the sea and the
outlaws. Tam did the rest.”
She had to tear Vienna away, so she could look at her older sister, Sybilla. “Sybie, darling, you have a huge babe in your belly.” Juliette’s eyes watered.
Sybilla’s brightness rivalled the sun. “I am with child, and my babe will be born soon.” She hugged Juliette. “If I have a daughter, I shall name her after you.”
Juliette laughed again. “I hear that Pa is here too?”
Sybilla took her sister’s hand. “He’s with the king. You know that the king has big plans for you, don’t you, darling?”
Juliette found herself being led across the bailey toward the throng of folk cheering on Tam, slapping him on the back.
“The king says that you are special and blessed—a vessel of the Almighty himself.”
Juliette pulled back. “Don’t believe it. If I was blessed I would not have been captured by the Irish outlaws in the first place.”
Vienna slung her arm around Juliette. “You survived it all, sweetheart. Remember Kenneth, he was with you in the outlaw’s cave. The bandits took him away while you were out fishing for eels. He’s here now too.”
The world was indeed tilting on a strange angle. “Kenneth is here with the king?”
Vienna nodded. “The outlaws ransomed him, and the king paid good coin for his return. Kenneth told everyone about you, how strong you were and how you survived the ocean. It was he that alerted the king and had him send out a search party. He told us how you fed him and tried to bring Angus back from the brink of death.”
Vienna pulled her toward the entrance of the keep. “They have perfumed water for your bath and new fresh clothing for you to wear. Once you are done, we shall all go up and greet the king and Father, of course, too.”
Once they’d successfully dragged Juliette to the wooden tub, they peeled off her old tunic, giving each other furtive glances. They removed her outer garment, shredded as it was, and then her under-smock, also filthy and torn. Juliette saw awe in her sisters’ eyes. “You would have done just as I did, or even better. Sybilla, you would have beaten the outlaws with your purse, and you, Vienna, would not have needed rescuing in the first place. You’d know your way home all on your own.”
Thistles and Thieves: Highlander Romance (Troublesome Sister Series Book 2) Page 18
