Roderick nodded agreement. "We can carry him by cart to a spot outside of Glen Carran, when he is well. He can make his way east from there."
"What sort of hospitality is that?" Kate asked bitterly. "We pride ourselves in the Highlands on helping friend and enemy alike in time of need. You cannot do this."
"In this case, it's wise. Rob will agree," Neill said.
"What of the lists, Katherine, and the weapons?" Allan asked. "With all the nursing you've done, we've had little chance to discuss these things. You said you saw Cameron. What more?"
"When Rob arrives, I'll tell you. Not now, not here." She glanced at Alec, who slept.
"You have other things to explain, too," Allan said. "You've changed somehow, lass, though I cannot quite say how."
"I have. And this man will not leave here."
"He should be out of this glen," Neill said.
"I suspect the lass has other reasons for what she says," Allan murmured. "If so, she could endanger this clan with the wrong choice if I remember the fairy legend properly."
"I will make the right choice," Kate said. "I will."
* X- *
Later, when moonlight filtered through the windows and the castle seemed to slumber, Kate sat on the edge of Alec's bed. The fire in the hearth crackled, its smoke fragrant, making the room warm and cozy. Enclosed by curtains drawn nearly shut, the bed seemed a peaceful space. Kate dipped a cloth in the basin on the table beside the bed and stroked the dampness gently over Alec's cheek, beard-roughened and firm, over his jaw with its stubborn, handsome contour, over his strong throat, where his pulse thumped steadily though his eyes were closed.
His fever had broken early on the previous morning, though Neill's wife Mary had given him a potion that kept him slumbering through the day to speed his healing. Kate felt vastly relieved that the crisis of the illness and injury had passed, though she now felt a new anxiousness—he must leave soon, for her kinsmen had determined that for the sake of all of them.
She slid the damp cloth over his shoulders. He was without a shirt, and she skimmed the moisture over the rounded muscles of his shoulders and arms, and across his chest, where power lay banked beneath smooth skin. The cloth passed over his breastbone, his heart, over his ribs. His small, flat nipples tightened, he shifted, his breathing changed. The beating of her heart quickened, and she licked her lips a little, rocked with the motion as she pushed the cloth slowly over his chest, down his abdomen. His lips moved, his eyelids fluttered, and he seemed on the verge of waking, sighing so that his abdomen rose and sank under her hand with the damn cloth.
She did not doubt that Rob would agree with their kinsmen when he arrived. As soon as Alec's strength returned, he would be escorted elsewhere.
This night was perhaps her last chance to be alone with him.
She moved the cloth up and down, avoiding his bandaged left arm, which rested on a small pillow. Touching the cloth to his chest again, she watched drops of water trickle over his bare skin to enter the soft mat of dark hair that feathered over his chest and arrowed beneath the coverlet to his lower abdomen. With one hand, she pushed the cover down a little and brought the cloth down with it, sweeping, tracing, easing the warm, damp, soft cloth over his skin.
He roused under the covers, bold and already rigid, and as she stroked the cloth downward, she saw his unmistakable response. Her own body answered with a quickening. The yearning grew, heating her from within.
She trailed her hand after the cloth, taking up the moisture with her palm. He was a bonny and beautiful man, she thought, his skin cool and smooth, softened by a mat of hair that was delightful to touch. Chiseled in places, rounded and comforting in others, he carried strength in every fiber of his form. Flawless skin slid over taut muscle as he moved a little, the sheen lovely in the amber glow of the firelight. He stirred her within like no one ever had, ever would.
Even if her kinsmen did not send him away, she would have done so herself, knowing he could not remain here for lone without raisine suspicion in the
government, and she could not travel east with him to fulfill the obligation in Edinburgh. Yet despite all the tugs and tussles between them, she had come to realize that she loved him.
Shifting on the bed to reach his side, leaning over him, she pressed against him and felt him arouse further, just beneath her, so that she moaned a little on a breath, to herself, and moved closer still, sliding her palm up along the muscled terrain of his abdomen.
"Kate, lass," he murmured, "either stop that now, or there will be consequences."
"Oh!" Gasping, she sat upright. "I thought you were asleep!"
"How could I be, with so lovely a creature here with me?"
"You!" She slapped him a little with the damp cloth. Laughing softly, he caught her wrist with his right hand. "And I was bathing you all this time—why did you let me go on with it?"
"That hardly needs an answer," he said, drawing her close to him. He brought his right, uninjured arm fully around her, and she fell gently against his chest where he reclined against a bank of pillows. "I was up and about after supper, but you were not here then," he said.
"I was with my kinsmen, and my sister. We thought you were still sleeping."
"Aye. Well, a servant left a fine meal, a pot of tea and one of lemonade, too—though it was not what I would prefer—"
"Lemonade and tea are all you'll get," she said, slid-
ing her hand in circles over his bare chest, feeling the heartbeat beneath, "unless you want cocoa."
"Lord, no. I ate a little, had the tea, then had a bit of a wash myself, and I read among the books in the case over there. Poetry and such. I was dozing when you came in a little while ago. Since you wanted to give me another bath, I wasn't going to refuse."
She gasped a little and laughed as he nudged her downward to nestle beside him in the warm, deep bed. "Alec," Kate said, slipping her arm around his neck. "So you're feeling well?"
"Oh, very well," he said, nuzzling her cheek with his lips.
"If so—Alec, my kinsmen will want you to leave Dun-crieff. So this night... maybe our last... to be together."
He stopped, breath caressing her cheek, and she heard him sigh. He drew back. "And I suppose you will not be coming with me to Edinburgh?"
"They do not want me to do that." She gazed at him soberly.
"I see. And what is it you want?"
She closed her eyes. "You," she whispered.
He sighed low, nearly a growl, and held her for a moment, his cheek, whiskered and rough, pressed against her own. The warm, masculine scent of him filled her senses. "Katie ..."
Before she could draw breath to ask or reply, she felt his lips graze over her cheek, her jaw, then her mouth, and she returned the kiss with sudden fervor, feeling thunderstruck suddenly by desire, by hunger.
Circling her arms around him, she pressed herself against him. He was fully awake, for he murmured her name, began to question—and she hushed him with a finger to his lips and withdrew it to kiss him again. As his hands traced over her, his kisses only deepened the fierce yearning that grew within her.
She sighed against his lips, ran her hands over his smooth back, his sculpted shoulders and torso. Her mouth craved his, and her body's hunger was greater, overwhelming, demanding, and when he rolled her to her back, she breathlessly helped him to unlace her bodice, to strip away the gown and the stays that were only a hindrance, for she knew what she wanted. Thinking about what it would be like to be without him, she could not bear it any longer. She wanted him to make her his own.
Fairy legends or none, obligations to her clan or none, she wanted to love this man here and now, secretly and deliriously if just for one night. Soon he would leave her life forever.
He lay back and raised his outer knee, pulling her more fully on top of him, his body hard and warm and sensual against her, and when he pulled at her chemise, she sat up and stripped it away quickly, flinging it away, sliding back into
the circle of his arm with a deep sigh, capturing his lips with her own.
His fingers found her breasts, caged their fullness, eased over the nipples, one and then the other. She cried out softly and slid upward as he came closer, and when his mouth closed upon her nipple she shud-
dered. The joy that spilled through her made her desperate for him.
The curtained bed, dark and warm, created a haven of protection. She felt free to do as she wanted and needed—and she needed to trust him, to love him, to give herself entirely within this private space. The world would never know what they did. Nothing mattered but touching, kissing, pleasures given and returned. Longing filled her with a kind of fire, a wildness that brimmed over in her, which she needed to share with him.
If she never saw him again, she would know, finally, what it was truly to love him.
Sliding her hands over his firm and beautiful body, she pushed back the bedcovers and shifted over him, sighing out again as his hand slipped down and touched her, brought her to exquisite shudders, so that she arched and gasped. When a sweet release rushed through her, she moved and placed her thighs on either side of his hips, pressing herself against him, wrapping her hand around the hard, heated length of him.
He sighed, eyes closed, arched toward her, shaped her hips with his hands. He grew still beneath her, breath heaving slightly, and she felt the deep, needful pulse of him against her. Leaning forward, she rubbed her body against him so that he groaned deep, and she felt the vibration of that all through her. She stretched to kiss his mouth, lingering there, tracing her tongue with his, over his, and she felt her own need throbbing heavily within her.
Lifting slightly, she slid her body along his and found that his body and hers formed a natural and perfect match, so that she rose and settled herself over him, taking part of him into her, pulsing over him, breathing hard—willing away the sweet pain of the first time— then she eased herself downward again. The motion was hers to make, the decision hers.
He caught his breath, grasped the tuck of her waist with his hand, then drew in a breath as he moved upward. At that moment, she slid down, fitting over him like hand to glove, and she cried out, so softly, as he filled her to the brim.
She pulled back a little, opened her eyes, saw him do the same. In the darkness and firelit glow, his gaze met hers, keen and piercing. "You ... oh, God," he whispered. "Wait—"
"Hush," she breathed, knowing he had just discovered that he was the first—the very first. "Hush—I want this. I want to know what this is, with you. And I want you to know, too, what we would have together, if—we—could...."
But she could whisper no more, for she was leaning on her arms, easing downward, and she felt the glorious rhythm shudder through him as he began to move within her. His thrusts formed a cadence that flashed into a potent, exquisite flame inside of her own body. She rocked with him, cried out as he groaned, and the strength and the wonder of it overwhelmed her then. For an instant she soared upward, his hand at her waist and his heart thumping against her own the only line
that kept her earthbound, and where she wanted to be—with him.
She fell forward then, her hair loosened and slipping down like a golden curtain, and felt herself emerge slowly from the heart-slamming magic that had poured through her. He sucked in a breath, another, pressing his head to her own.
Somehow she felt different, as if she had found a new clarity of heart, of soul. She would have told him so, but could not find the words, tucking her head against his shoulder.
He took her into the circle of his arm, his body lightly covered with sweat, as was her own. She snuggled against him, closing her eyes as he kissed her brow.
"Kate, I'm sorry. I did not realize that you had never—"
"Hush. We will not speak of it," she whispered. "It does not matter. You were the first, and you are the only one, and that is all that matters."
"But Kate—"
She pressed a finger to his lips. "You had better rest now." She rose to hands and knees, climbed nimbly over him, and slid her feet to the floor, gathering up her clothes. When he reached out for her, she stepped away.
"Come back here," he growled low.
She shook her head, stepped away, pausing to pull on her chemise, then her dress over that. Stopping to glance at him, blowing him a small kiss in the darkness, she whirled and fled the room.
Chapter 21
44 M^ch, you're awake and alert today. Greetings, ^^^ sir." The woman smiled as she approached with a brass tray, which she set on an inlaid table beside his bed. The table already held a tall, shining silver candelabra with three fat, fragrant candles flickering bright on a gloomy afternoon. "I think you must be feeling better!"
Alec sat up and nodded a greeting. "Much stronger. Thank you for helping me, madam. I know you've been in and out of the room all the while that I've been sick. And I know that you did not need to do that—I am aware that I might not be welcome here."
"Highland hospitality is owed to whoever comes knockine at the door." she said, "even red soldiers."
"I'm not an English redcoat, but of a Highland company," he said. "I am Captain Alexander Fraser."
"I know. I'm Mary Murray, wife to the man you cut."
He blinked. "Madam, I'm sorry—"
"No need. He's fine enough, my Neill. But oh, what a wicked wound you had!" She spoke Scots rather than Gaelic, he noticed. "Now sit up, Alexander Fraser, and have some soup." She smiled and plumped the pillows behind him and added another blanket to the bed, though the room was warm already. He smiled in return.
She was a handsome woman, Alec noticed, lush and rounded, with light blue eyes and black curls framing her face beneath a lace-edged cap. She picked up a small china bowl filled with steaming dark liquid, its scent rich and familiar.
"Chocolate." He nearly groaned.
"Aye, Kate said your own family makes the very cocoa powder we use, and the tea and coffee, too! Fraser's Fancy tins! Imagine!" She smiled, folding her hands. "It's fine stuff, that. Neill buys some for me whenever he goes to Perth or Callander for the cattle markets and suchlike. I do love a wee sip o' chocolate drink now and then. Muckle fine, your cocoa wafers."
"Ah," he said, accepting the little bowl. "I'm glad you like it. I will send you some once I return to Edinburgh."
"Och, I dinna want you to go to trouble for me."
"No trouble at all." He sipped. The hot chocolate was good, hot and sweet, with a thick layer of foam on the top. "Excellent, Mrs. Murray. A deep froth, and quite hot. I like the extra sweetness." He had never enioved
chocolate drink much, but he found that he genuinely enjoyed this.
" 'Tis a bitter brew without extra sugar cracked off the sugar loaf, and it needs the best cream from the first milking, too," she said. "And I whip it very well. They've a fine silver chocolate pot here at Duncrieff, with a stirring stick—whatever that's called—"
"Molinillo," he answered, "or moussoir."
"The very thing. At home I do not have a chocolate pot, so I pour it from one cup into another, which gives it a fine thick foam on top, given enough pouring."
"That's a traditional old method, and very reliable." He sipped again. "So you use the wafers in the tins, and add more sugar? Our powder is already mixed with sugar, and dried into wafers and packed in the tins. It only needs breaking off, and mixing with a cupful of boiling water."
"Aye. 'Tisna sweet enough. City folk must drink it verra bitter, I think."
"This is truly excellent." He vowed to send Mary Murray not only a crate of cocoa tins, but a good silver chocolate pot and molinillo. "I shall tell my aunt and uncle, when I see them, that the best chocolate drink I ever had was in the Highlands."
"Och, Captain Fraser," she said, as she took the empty bowl from him. Then she handed him a larger bowl, wide and shallow, filled with hot soup. "Sit higher, so you'll no' spill this. It's a fine beef broth with vegetables from my own garden, and they came dear this year, s
o you'll eat it all."
Alec shifted obediently and accented the bowl and
spoon. "Thank you. I appreciate this, Mrs. Murray."
"Tchal You were weak as a bairn when I first saw you. Your strength will return quickly, for you're a healthy man"—she said it with an appreciative smile, and he chuckled at the implied compliment—"but you must rest, and eat that broth, and more, to gain back your strength."
He nodded, sipped at the soup. Looking past the blue damask hangings on the bed, he saw a well-appointed room with mahogany furnishings, windows draped in ivory brocade, Turkey carpets in rich colors on the wooden floor.
"Duncrieff is a fine castle," he said. "A fine home."
"Aye, 'tis. Himself, the chief o' Clan Carran, is no' here at present, gone into the hills wi' Lord Kinnoull, who married Miss Katherine's sister, Sophie. You were on Kinnoull's lands when Neill and them caught you."
He nodded, touching his bandaged arm in its cloth sling. "How did they come upon us that day, do you know?"
"Neill and our sons were out in the hills, and heard you calling for Katherine. When they saw your red coat, they took it for a threat. They've been searching for her ever since ... well, we heard she had been taken by the red soldiers. And then a miracle returned her to us."
Mrs. Murray apparently knew about Kate's involvement, Alec thought, frowning a little. No doubt they all did, here at Duncrieff. "Are you kin to Katherine Mac-Carran, Mrs. Murray?"
"Not blood kin. but friends of her family."
Alec nodded, glancing around the well-appointed bedroom, all he had seen of the castle so far. The view of the mountains through the tall windows was spectacular. "This is a fine place."
"You'll see more of it soon, when you're on your feet. Be sure to see the Fairy Cup of Duncrieff, too. 'Tis the prize of the clan and kept in the drawing room here. They say there's fairy power passed through generations of the MacCarrans of Duncrieff. Kate and Sophie both have a touch of it, and a fine lot o' mischief that has caused." She smiled impishly.
Sarah Gabriel - Keeping Kate Page 19
