Captive Bride [Highland Menage 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  Perhaps she could stay with the Camerons as a servant? If she had a place Gillis would not feel required to care for her. He could then look for the wealthy wife he needed. It was more likely the Camerons wouldn’t want her. Though female, she’d been trained as a squire. Yes, she could learn women’s tasks, but would they allow her to? She would not fit in well. Servants did not do sums, keep ledgers, read, or write. They did not know Greek, Latin, or French. They had not listened to an educated man lecture for hours on whatever he chose to speak about. While Patrick practiced his fighting skills with the men she’d often lingered with his tutor. Master Tybalt enjoyed the sound of his own voice. As she was eager to learn, she’d absorbed what she could. She’d also participated in long debates about anything Master Tybalt wished to argue about. That led to her disliking being quiet when men gave their opinions, especially when they were wrong. She’d never spoken aloud, of course, though her mind had made speeches.

  If she could not be a servant perhaps Gillis could find her a kindly husband. Perhaps an older man who wished someone to care for his children and warm his bed? She could put up with a lot during the day if her husband could give her a home, and perhaps some joy at night.

  “Are ye ready, lass?”

  “Oh, aye.” She scrambled to her feet, face heating at having to be reminded.

  Gillis insisted on leading the way so she followed him up the stairs. When a torch lit his hair she was surprised it was red. She’d heard the MacDougals were dark. He was also handsome as well as tall and well formed. Seeing him made her want to rub her body against him again.

  He’d said it would take them days to get to the Camerons at Inverlochy Castle. Surely Gillis would wish to repeat what they’d just done? Would Angus be as skilled? She had shared her body with one brother and enjoyed it immensely. Why not do the same with the other? Perhaps they would try to outdo each other…

  Her body thrummed with eagerness. It must be the fever giving her these crazy thoughts. Crazy, and arousing. She followed Gillis into the shadows. He put his hand back to warn her something was wrong. The hall was almost empty. It should have been filled with men drinking and whoring. They slipped outside into confusion.

  “The gate’s open!” she whispered.

  The wind blew into their faces, bringing a stench almost more foul than the dungeon. They joined a group of men staggering toward the gate. Like the others Fiona hunched, clutching her belly as she walked, expecting an arrow in her back. Outside, they found the missing men groaning in pain. The guards yelled for their group to keep on going, to get far from the walls with their stink. Likely the meat had been rotten, or perhaps the cook wanted a dose of revenge while the laird was away.

  Like the others, she clutched her belly and ran as if she could barely keep her body from expelling what it needed to. There was little moonlight and much noise and confusion. She stumbled, and her legs gave out from under her. Gillis barely stopped. He grabbed her, holding her in his arms. Keeping low, he ran for the safety of the forest. Once in the trees he set her on the ground and bent over, lungs heaving from the effort.

  “About time ye got away from the Campbells,” said a deep voice from under the dark trees. “I was thinking I’d have to go in after ye, until the fools started stinking up the place. ‘Tis glad I am we’re upwind.”

  “Angus, are ye sayin’ ‘twas not yerself what fouled the meat?”

  Gillis slapped him on the shoulder. They insulted each other, as men were wont to do. She fought her way to her feet, shamed she’d had to be carried.

  “And who is this laddie ye dragged out with ye?” demanded Angus.

  “‘Tis no laddie,” said Gillis. “Fiona is a bastard of Laird Menzies. Fiona, this is my older brother, Angus MacDougal.”

  “I am dead to the Menzies,” she said. “I be just Fiona.”

  “They had a lassie in the pit with ye?”

  “She was the decoy to her brother, the heir,” replied Gillis. “I thought her a laddie, too, ‘til she unbound her lovely breasts.”

  “Gillis!”

  She swatted him in the belly with the back of her hand. He grabbed her hand, chuckled, and then brought the back of it to his mouth and kissed it. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach before dropping to tickle her pussy.

  “I’d still be counting my sins in the dark if Fiona didna drop in. I used the silk of her breast binding to climb out.”

  “Save the story until we are safe,” ordered Angus. “Can ye walk or are ye too weak?” he asked, directing the question to Fiona. “‘Tis too close under the trees to ride a horse.”

  “I told yer brother I can run, and run I shall.”

  Both men made noises of disbelief in the backs of their throats. She was exhausted and feverish in the cold air but would not give in even though her legs were so short she’d have to take three steps for every one of theirs. She’d studied a map of the area before traveling, which was why she knew what direction to race her horse. There were enough stars to find north.

  “The Camerons be north, aye?” Without waiting for an answer she set off at a trot.

  Chapter Four

  Angus, smirking, followed the swaying hips of the impertinent, exhausted, but determined woman. She’d insisted she could run though her slow trot was more of a stride for him. They had a long way to go before morning, but Gillis was also not at his best. He’d keep going until he dropped, though, and then he’d crawl.

  Angus would give the feisty wee lass a bit more time before he grabbed her up and carried her. If she struggled he might have to put his palm on her arse. The thought of spanking those well-rounded cheeks made his cock even harder. Though the light wasn’t good enough to see her breeks tighten with every step he could imagine the fine sight. Every now and then he caught sight of the full breasts which filled her shirt. He’d like to get his hands on those as well, and his mouth.

  He’d vowed he would get Gillis out or die trying. When he saw the gates open and groaning men run out he’d thanked his lucky stars at the diversion. Then he’d seen a dark shadow running toward him, bent over as if sick. But Gillis wasn’t sick, he was protecting the wee bundle in his arms. And she was a wee thing, barely five feet.

  Fiona may be dressed as a lad, but he saw her femininity with one glance in the rising moon’s light. Her looks and determination made him want her, and not for just a quick rutting. Gillis had given him a bit of Fiona’s story while they gave her privacy to relieve herself. They’d spoken in Gaelic as most folks in this part did not understand it. She was nothing like the women he’d met while fostering with the Camerons. They would never dress as a lad, ride a horse astride, or go anywhere without an armed escort. Fiona had done all that and, by leading the Campbells away from the heir, had offered her life for her clan. That loyalty was to be admired and rewarded. Menzies would do neither.

  Like a wildcat she had snarled up at him, insisting she could run. She’d proven the truth of it, though it must be taking every ounce of her strength. A woman like that would scratch her nails into his back while he thrust his cock deep. She’d scream his name as she clenched him. He groaned in need. They’d gone without a woman for years, refusing to be like their father who’d purposefully plowed his seed into eager women across the countryside. Nor had they spent precious coins to rut with whores.

  Though Fiona had been raised in a manner that was highly unusual, she was still the daughter of a powerful laird. Her bastardy meant nothing to him. Menzies would have abused any woman he’d caught, no matter her status, so he’d assume Fiona had been treated the same. He’d not want her back. Marriage would solve the problem of who would protect her.

  He and Gillis had little to offer a woman who’d been raised as a gentle lady. They’d been lying to themselves by thinking they could find a well-dowered woman. Nor did they wish to choose wealth over the loving companionship they’d seen while fostering. Deep down they wanted the same as what Laird and Lady Cameron enjoyed. The two openly shared laughs, not car
ing others saw how they enjoyed each other’s company. They seemed always in agreement, though not because Lady Eloise bowed to her husband’s wishes. No, they discussed things out of sight, and then stood together in front of their clan.

  Duncladach had little to offer a sweet, delicate wife but tough, fierce Fiona would fit in well. It did not matter that Fiona knew naught of such things. Another set of brothers would one day marry and their wife could oversee a housekeeper and, cook.

  If Fiona agreed to belong to both of them they would protect and provide for her. They had to convince her to marry them before they arrived at Inverlochy Castle. Laird Cameron was a strong leader, a shrewd warrior, and a pious man when it suited him. As the daughter, bastard or not, of his neighbor, Cameron would insist he protect her reputation and ensure she was married. It was up to the two of them to make sure they ended up with Fiona.

  She stumbled. He caught her before she hit the ground. She was far too hot! She wouldn’t marry anyone if she didn’t survive this fever. Capture, followed by hours in a cold, dank dungeon, and then running in the night, would make it worse.

  They had to stop to care for her. He knew of a bothy just inside Clan Cameron land where they could shelter. After they bathed the sweat from her naked body for days and nights, she would be well compromised. Cameron’s men would find them, of course. He and Gillis would let it be known they cared for a lad. By the time Fiona was better they’d have convinced her to handfast with one of them, so they could stay together.

  She struggled to get free.

  “Enough,” he said gently to her. “Ye have proved yerself. The trees are clear enough for horses now. Gillis, you mount Argon. I’ll take Fiona up with me. Then we ride, hard.”

  Gillis handed Fiona up to Angus. She sighed and sagged against his chest. Her forehead was far too hot. He’d wished her to be a little bit sick, not so bad she could die. He wrapped an arm under her breasts and held her snug. She fit, and trusted him. Just like that, he knew he could not let her go.

  He smelled rain. It was not unusual at this time of year but would make Fiona worse if they were caught in it.

  “We’ve got to make that bothy,” he said.

  Gillis grunted his agreement. They rode hard for hours, the horses having rested while Gillis was an unhappy guest of the Campbells. The east was turning a murky gray at their backs when they passed the invisible boundary onto Cameron land. He’d barely let out his breath when the sky opened. He wrapped his plaid tight around Fiona, now barely conscious.

  He found the hidden bothy tucked into a hill, one they’d used as boys. Gillis dismounted and took Fiona from his arms, handing her back when Angus was free. She moaned softly, her puny weight light in his arms. Her warm breath touched his neck when he bent over, holding her snug to him as he protected her from the rain with his back. He brought her inside, leaving Gillis to tend the horses and bring the packs. He found a blanket and wrapped it around her, then set her gently on a straw pallet near the hearth. The men of Clan Cameron were well trained. Everything was where it should be, clean and tidy. He had a fire started before Gillis came in. He was naked, having washed in the rain.

  “How is she?” demanded Gillis as he handed over a bucket of rainwater.

  “Too hot.”

  Angus gently washed her face with a cloth dipped in cool water. He was careful, unsure what was dirt and what could be bruises. Luckily, most of the color came off. She looked pale in the gray morning light. He didn’t know how much of it was due to her fever. The shape of her face was not distasteful. Like Gillis her hair was red, though it was straight. No wonder she was so stubborn.

  “She called herself ugly and old,” said Gillis. He made a noise of disgust. “She’s past the age to be married, but she’s nay ugly. I want her to wife, Angus. We canna let her die.”

  The last few words were quiet, full of agony. Angus nodded his agreement. Gillis, though loud and argumentative, was the one who brought home wounded birds and animals. He didn’t have the patience to care for them but had known Angus would. Fiona was another injured creature, a fragile wee thing who needed their help to survive. Most of the creatures he’d cared for had lived and been released. He would do everything to make Fiona live, but he did not want to release her.

  “I shouldna have wished she get a bit of a fever so we could keep her with us long enough to stake a claim,” said Angus. He gently removed her wet shirt. Her breasts spilled out, nipples puckered. His cock jerked to life. “Jesu!”

  “Aye, she’s bountiful, but ye’ll wait until she’s well,” ordered Gillis.

  “I’d nay touch to arouse without her aye.”

  They had to work to get the rest of her wet clothes off. She was hot but shivering. They cleaned her gently, then rubbed her dry with Angus’s shirt. Her belly was flat, her hips wide in proportion to her waist. She had a delicate face with dark brows and lush lips. Her stubborn chin came to a point. He could see her lying on top of him, driving it into his chest to irritate him. He grinned at the thought. Add her large breasts and she was perfect.

  They wrestled a dry shirt from Angus’s pack onto her as a shift, wrapped her in a blanket, and set her again by the fire. She curled on her side, back to the heat, wrapped like a cocoon. Gillis set a pot of water to boil. Angus thinly sliced dried meat into a tin cup and set it on the side of the hearth to make a broth to spoon into her.

  “She’s wee, but all woman,” said Gillis softly. “There's not much meat on her bones but she’s got a strong will, and should survive this, though it may take a few nights.”

  “Laird Cameron willna like us traveling with a lassie,” warned Angus.

  “He’ll not complain if we’re married. I aim to do it as soon as she wakes. Fiona insisted she’d nay die a virgin. She may already carry my bairn. I will handfast with her.”

  Angus nodded. Gillis would be married to Fiona for a year and a day. If no babe appeared in that time each would be free to walk away. Angus was sure between the two of them Fiona would be swelling in far less time, unless she was barren. That was a big part of handfasting. Those needing children to work the land could not keep a barren woman.

  Chances were their child would be a son with dark hair and eyes like most of his brothers, though it could be a redhead. He'd love to have a wee lassie just like Fiona but MacDougals had little chance of a daughter. It didn’t matter as long as their babes were healthy.

  “As my wife, Fiona willna be dishonored at Inverlochy Castle, and Cameron will make no plans to marry her off,” said Gillis.

  “I was thinking the same.”

  Fiona would never be the quiet, well-behaved wife many men wished to have. She had spirit and would stand up to her husbands. If she was smart she’d know not to do it in public, or too often.

  “We could do far worse in a wife,” said Angus.

  “Aye, but I doubt better. No laird wants a pair of battered MacDougals for a well-dowered daughter.”

  “Somerled and Niall will be pleased if we bring a wife home.”

  “She has to survive this fever, and more, first,” said Gillis.

  “More?”

  “I promised we’d take her where she wished to go. Perhaps she’ll want to visit her family.”

  “Who are they?”

  “She is the bastard daughter of Menzies and a Fraser maid, long dead.” Gillis looked up. “‘Twould be best to marry afore her father is known by Cameron. Aye?“

  Chapter Five

  Fiona floated, dreaming of kisses so real she could feel lips trailing a line across her belly. There was also a slight scratching as if from a beard. She arched, loving the sensation. A low chuckle made her freeze.

  “Methinks the lassie will live, Angus.”

  “Aye, and want more.”

  Her heart almost stopped, then pounded. She knew those voices, had heard them as she drifted in and out of…sleep? Her hand was lifted. Teeth gently nipped a finger. She gasped and opened her eyes. She was lying on a pallet in a dim room. Two
large shapes crouched beside her. One grinning redhead and his dark-haired brother. Gillis and Angus MacDougal. Her nipples contracted. She was naked! She covered her breasts with her free arm.

  “Why did ye strip me?” Her throat was so dry she croaked the words.

  “Ye had a fever, wee Fiona,” said Gillis, caressing her cheek with a knuckle. “We tended ye for three days.”

  “And nights,” added Angus. His fingertips drifted over the curve of her breast to her belly. “Ye have a fine body, lassie.”

  “Ye touched me?”

  “Only to care for ye. But now, since ye are awake…”

  Fiona watched, entranced, as Angus’s face descended. He didn’t kiss her lips, continuing instead until he found her nipple. His teeth nipped, and then his warm mouth closed over it. Pleasure burst from the point of contact. She clenched as her body demanded more. She remembered Gillis kissing and nipping before she rode him to a wonderful explosion. Or had that been another fever-induced dream?

  “Do ye wish me to give ye what my brother did?” asked Angus.

  Not a dream. She’d actually demanded he show her pleasure!

  The half-closed eyes and knowing wink meant Gillis had told Angus about it. She would be embarrassed if she weren’t so eager for more. The tempting devil of sin suckled, and her body responded to the invitation. His warm mouth lifted, topping her nipple with one last kiss. Angus gazed down at her, eyes twinkling, one corner of his mouth curled up.

  She felt alive, and wanted. Lying with Gillis without marriage had been a sin. Doing the same with his brother would break any number of sacraments. Yet, though the Menzies priest lectured about sins of the flesh he did not deny himself, especially among the younger maids. If God allowed him to rut without lightning striking him dead, why should she be denied pleasure?

  “Ye need to drink, now that yer fever broke,” said Gillis. “We spooned as much rainwater as we could down yer throat, but ye need more.”