Chapter 16
For several minutes, Camdyn did not say a word. He merely looked at Victoria as though he did not know what to say, and she certainly did not know what was on his mind. How could she? She was no mind-reader.
Release me from this anxiety, Camdyn. I beg of you… say what you must.
Camdyn sighed, as though he could read her mind. “The thing is, lass, I went into town while ye were restin’ and I spoke with one of me old pals. There’s naught that gets past him. He hears everythin’ what goes on in Inverness.”
“You… left?” Victoria blinked in surprise. “I did not know.”
“I did say goodbye to ye, but ye were sleepin’ like the dead,” he replied, with a small smile. “Anyway, he says I’m in a world of trouble.”
Victoria swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“The lad I killed—the one what put a bayonet through me shoulder first—were some Duke’s son,” Camdyn explained. “And his pal saw me escapin’ Culloden Moor. That’d be enough to start some revenge hunt on me, though anyone who saw me that day, and had any sense, would think I’d died of me injuries. Apparently, that is nae the case, and now there’s this other rumor being spread that I’m Bonnie Prince Charlie’s right-hand man. It’s got the English in a frenzy, and nay mistake.”
Victoria’s eyes widened in horror. “But… that simply is not true!”
“Aye, but the English want an excuse to get rid of all of us Jacobites who escaped.” Camdyn shook his head wearily. “They’ll execute us all and say it were just to make sure they got Charlie’s right-hand man, once and for all. They dinnae want another rebellion breakin’ out. So, the English think I’m this devil who’s goin’ to rekindle war, and my people think I’m their last hope. Either way, me arse is skewered.”
I should have known it could not remain a fairytale of stolen kisses and building a life together, here.
Victoria held tighter to the bedpost as her head began to swim. The man she adored was in danger, and she did not know what she could do to help. This was no injury that she could stitch up, or a bone that she could set, or a fever she could calm. If the English military caught up to Camdyn, it would be as he said… Certain death.
“Is that why you told Genevieve you would lie about the assistance and care I have given you?” she rasped, breathing harshly. “You think they may be coming, do you not?”
Camdyn lowered his gaze. “I dinnae ken, lass. Me pal, Murdock, told me nae to come back into town. He said there were soldiers crawlin’ all over the place.” He shrugged. “Mayhap he were just bein’ cautious, because he dinnae tell me to run. If it were serious, that’s what he would’ve said.”
“Well… can you not speak to this Murdock fellow and ask him to spread a… goodness, what would you call it? A counter-rumor, of sorts, to say that you have already succumbed to your injuries and are dead?” Victoria cried in desperation, feeling any sense of calm slip through her fingers.
If he fears for his life, and mine, he will leave. I cannot bear it if he leaves. I cannot!
Camdyn raised his head. “I think that’s what he’s goin’ to try to do, but it is nae all doom and gloom, lass. The English soldiers dinnae ken me name. They only ken of me because of me broadsword. It were a gift from Laird Young when I were a lad, with a raven’s head on the pommel. And I am nae strollin’ around with it.”
“But what if they torture someone who fought with the Jacobites? What if they get one of your comrades to tell them the name of the sword’s owner?” Victoria panted, feeling suddenly faint. “It sounds as though this broadsword is unique. Perhaps you should take it out to the Firth and throw it in the water or toss it into some woods near Culloden Moor. It might lead them astray and make them believe that you are dead.”
Camdyn’s warm umber eyes glistened with sorrow. “I cannae do that, lass. Where I come from, ye dinnae toss away a sword like that out of fear. I hope to pass it on to me son, if I have one.”
“You shan’t if they hang you, Camdyn!” Victoria barked. How could he not see that his life was worth more than some stupid sword? “You will have nothing but a cold grave for your bed if you do not act and put them off your scent! If it is a matter of value, then I shall buy a new sword for you when it is safe to do so.”
Camdyn shook his head. “It is nae about the cost of the thing, lass. It’s about what’s in here, and what that sword means to me.” He planted his palm against his chest. “It’s got me history and me endurance etched into the blade, and me blood, sweat, and tears in the leather wrap of the hilt. It’s a part of who I am.”
“It is a SWORD!” Victoria took leave of her senses, howling like a banshee. “We are speaking of your life here, and all you can think about is a piece of metal?! If the English fear you will spark a new rebellion, you must do whatever you can to persuade them that you are dead, or they will see it come true! I will not lose you, Camdyn. Do not ask me to stand by whilst you put your life in peril.”
“Be calm, lass.” Camdyn closed the gap between them and pulled her to him. One arm encircled her waist while the other stroked her hair, and his mouth hushed softly in her ear. “It is nae so bad as ye think. I am nae goin’ to die.”
Victoria pummeled on his chest. “How can you say that? It seems to me that you have already made your decision to do nothing, and I cannot validate that. Someone will talk, and when they do, the soldiers will come and they will take you from me, and… I will not manage without you, Camdyn!”
“I dinnae mean to fright ye, lass. It will nae be me first time evadin’ the enemy, and they haven’ae got me yet,” he cooed, but all she could envision was the sight of him on a gallows stage, with the hangman tugging a rope around his neck. And the swing of the trapdoor or the kick of the barrel that would end his life forever.
She beat harder on his chest, her fists closed in desperate fury. “I cannot fathom why you will not rid yourself of your sword. Make it look as though are no longer a threat, and the threat will subside. Is it not simple? Have I gone mad?”
“Nay, lass, but ye dinnae understand what that sword means to me. It’s me memories. It’s me reminder of what I’ve been through. If I were to throw it away, I’d be gettin’ rid of a piece of meself,” he murmured, enduring the thumping of her fists against him. “If Murdock had told me to run, it’d be a different story, but he did nae. I’ve still got time.”
Her hands ceased to thud against his chest. “You have time?” she hissed. “How much time? Days, weeks, months, a year? I shall tell you now, it will never be enough for me. I do not want to be on borrowed time with you, Camdyn, forever terrified that someone will come through the door to take you away. Moreover, do you not think they will punish you with additional brutality if you claim you forced me to take care of you? This is lunacy, Camdyn!”
“It’ll all be all right, lass. I am nae worried.” One look deep into his eyes and she knew he was lying. He was worried. Very worried. But he was pretending to be his usual, courageous self so that Victoria would not feel petrified.
She pushed away from him. “If you will not plant your sword elsewhere for the sake of both our lives, and our happiness, then I shall do it for you!”
Turning on her heel, she only managed to get a few paces toward the door before Camdyn seized her from behind, his fiercely protective arms wrapping around her.
His lips burned a passionate trail up the side of her neck, his teeth catching at her earlobe as his breaths turned ragged against her skin. “Dinnae be foolish, lass. I’ll figure this out for us both. Ye’ve got to trust me.”
“How can I, when you say you will not take the simplest course of action?” she gasped, struggling to concentrate on anything but his lips against her.
“I’ll fix it, lass,” he growled, his breath searing against her neck.
She bit her lip as her head tilted back, exposing more of her throat for him to kiss. “You will not distract me, Camdyn. I cannot be… oh… oh goodness!”
His h
and smoothed across her stomach and continued down, his fingers curving and bending the flimsy cotton of her nightgown until she felt a delicious pressure against the sensitive bud of her secret cleft. Her back arched against him as he slowly circled his fingers, creating a shivering friction through the material, and making her wish there were no such barrier between them.
“Ye were sayin’, lass?” She felt him smile against her throat, as his other hand gently turned her face toward him.
Her breath caught as he rubbed smaller circles against her bud, the exquisite pressure sending sparks of pleasure through her abdomen and down her thighs, prompting her legs to tremble. “We cannot, Camdyn,” she mumbled through stifled moans. “Genevieve will be coming… back at any… moment.”
“Leave it to me,” he purred. “I’ll show ye how resourceful I can be.”
All of a sudden, he released her from his passionate grasp, leaving her bereft of his touch, his kiss, his body, the hardening of his length beneath his kilt that had been on the rise against the plump curve of her backside. She gasped like a drowning woman who had just reached the shore, as he marched to her bedchamber door and turned the key in the lock.
“That ought to keep her busy for a while.” He flashed Victoria a lusty grin. “We’ll know when she’s here from the poundin’ on the door. If she asks about the sounds ye’re about to be makin’, I’ll just tell her ye were havin’ a feverish fit.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow. “And what sounds might those be?”
“I’ll be only too happy to show ye.” He strode back over to her and picked her up, his large hands cupping the soft pillows of her backside. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist and her head dipped to meet his lips with refreshed hunger.
She cradled his face as her mouth danced frantically against his, as though this might be the last time they would kiss. They had been passionate in their encounters before, but this was something new and uninhibited—an almost vehement ardor, both of them longing to devour one another in every way that carnal fervor would allow.
Her hands slid across his cheeks and into his hair, her fingertips gripping his russet locks and tugging on them to tilt his head further back. He growled as though angry, but there was a sultry grin upon his lips as she ducked back in to plunder his mouth with her tongue. He returned the favor, their tongues moving together as he carried her to the wall beside the bed and pushed her against it with a commanding thud.
“I cannot bear this,” she gasped. “I want you, Camdyn. I want you!” It was the first time in her life that she had realized that there was an animal, primordial instinct to humans that could not be controlled by society’s strict parameters.
His hands tugged her nightgown up to her hips, exposing the thin white fabric of her drawers. Delirious with longing, she gripped him tighter with her thighs, urging him to press himself against her, while his lips raked at her throat and worked down to her pert breasts. “Say that again,” he groaned.
“I want…” A sharp breath interrupted her words as she felt his hard length pushing through his kilt, seeking out her slick center. Had it not been for her drawers, she knew she could have reached down to lift his kilt, so he could slide inside her and join their bodies, once and for all.
Emboldened, she did what she could, given the circumstances. Her hand reached through her clenched thighs and raised up his kilt, until her hand found what it had been searching for. His smooth and silken member, as thick as her wrist and so long that even if she had wrapped both hands around him, there would still have been some flesh to spare.
“Och, lass…” He grazed his teeth against his lower lip, his eyes closing in passion.
Slowly, she began to move her hand up and down, feeling the tantalizing give of the skin around his pulsing tip. It was a trick she had learned to use on her husband, when she did not feel like coupling. But, with Camdyn, she did it because she wanted to see the ecstasy on his face and know that she was the one who had ignited it.
“Lass, ye should nae do that.” He sucked air through his teeth as he grabbed her hand to stop her. “I dinnae want me own pleasure. Nae with yer shadow on her way up. I want to see yers.”
Before she could argue, he carried her over to the bed and set her down on the edge of the stuffed mattress. She squealed in delight as he sank down to his knees and leaned up to kiss her hard on the lips, while his fingertips gripped at her thighs. A frisson of pleasure and a delicious hint of pain shivered through her.
“What will you do?” she whispered, intrigued. But he did not answer, letting his actions speak for themselves.
Ravenously, he pulled aside the collar of her nightgown and coaxed out a supple breast. His tongue flicked against her erect nipple, taunting her, until his warm, wet mouth closed around it. She clutched at his hair as he sucked gently, sending shooting barbs of bliss down into her stomach, where the muscles tightened.
Breathless with desire, she mourned the loss of his mouth on her primed nipple as he kissed further down, following the contours of her waist and over the bony rise of her hip.
“Lie back,” he murmured thickly, as his rough palms slid the edges of her nightgown up to her abdomen. She did not need to be told twice, even though she did not know what he planned to do. Her husband had never cared for her pleasure, and though she had heard myths among her patients of men who work miracles with their fingers and tongues, she had never experienced it herself.
Her hips lifted as she felt him untie the silk ribbon of her drawers and his insistent hands tugged them down over her thighs, where he quickly freed them from her legs and shoved the evidence underneath the bed.
“Camdyn, what if—” Victoria’s words died on her tongue, her hands clawing at the swathes of blankets upon the bed. There was nothing more to be said, for she did not want to interrupt the delicious sensation of Camdyn’s lips kissing up the inside of her thighs, drawing ever closer to her silky sweet lotus.
The moment Camdyn’s tongue flicked against her sensitive bud, the real world evaporated. There was only this. Him and her, alone together, indulging in each other.
His tongue lashed her again and again, harder and more intense, prompting her breath to escape in short, feverish gasps of pure wonder. Her body shook, unable to cope with the overwhelming pleasure, as his tongue slowed in longer, more deliberate licks that ran the length of her cleft, tormenting the precipice of her heat. She gripped the blankets tighter in her hands as a pressure began to build within her. A sensation she had never experienced.
Am I sick? Is this… healthy?
Truly, it felt as though she were about to burst, but she did not want to stop Camdyn out of some unfounded panic. Not when what he was doing felt so incredible.
A cry of passion slipped out of her parted lips as two powerful, skilled fingers suddenly pressed against her opening, though his tongue did not stop caressing her bud for a moment. Her hips bucked with wild abandon as his fingers pushed inside her. And though she was desperate to take him inside her, she had not known that there was such an intoxicating alternative.
“Camdyn… oh… oh Camdyn… do not stop. I beg of you… do not stop,” she rasped, relishing in the provocative, slow thrust of his fingers moving in and out of her, while his tongue licked her sweet spot at a frenzied pace.
The pressure continued to build in her abdomen, the muscles contracting with the arch of her back and the lift of her hips. Her head thrashed from side to side on the blankets, feeling as though she were no longer on this plane of existence. Pleasure like this surely could not be real.
Suddenly, that imminent swell of untold ecstasy finally exploded within her body. An extreme wave of wonder and limb-shaking glory that crashed through her veins like the cascade of a pounding waterfall, making her muscles seize and her heart thunder as an almighty cry filled the bedchamber.
As the pleasure ebbed, her slick center pulsating in the sweet aftermath, Camdyn gently drew his fingers out of her and licked her bud one last time
, before he placed tender kisses up her thighs and onto her hips. Glancing down, she saw him disappear beneath her nightgown as he kissed her stomach, before he reappeared with a pleased smile upon his handsome face.
“What… was that?” she gasped, propping herself up on her elbows. “Did you not hear Genevieve? I am not supposed to get excited in my current state of convalescence.”
Camdyn chuckled. “I thought I should help ye feel more alive.”
“I have never felt anything like that before,” she admitted, as he clambered up onto the bed and lay down beside her. She turned to face him and lifted her head to kiss him. His arm slid around her waist and pulled her even closer, as he caught her mouth with his, sharing a deep, sensual kiss as Victoria basked in the residual glow of what she had just experienced.
“Then that’s what I’d call a tragedy, lass,” he said, breaking away from their kiss so he could catch his breath. “Ye should be made to feel like that every damn day of yer life.”
Highlander's Fallen Angel : A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 14
