Conall: The 93rd Highlanders, Book Two

by Samantha Kane

  “You did it,” Graeme accused him. “You risked it.”

  “I did.” Hamish smiled to himself and looked at Graeme. “But they’re in Scutari and I’m here. We’re still not sure what’s going to happen when this foolishness with the Russians is over. I think the thought of not seeing them again gave me the courage I needed. But what happened in Scutari is a great deal different than trying it here in camp. Isn’t it?”

  Graeme watched Avril come back out and go to stand next to Conall. She looked cold. Before he could say anything, Conall jumped up and fed the fire, pulling her closer to it. He whispered something in her ear and she blushed. He must be promising to keep her warm later. That was their secret language, wasn’t it? Graeme had heard that phrase countless times in the past few weeks. They didn’t look like they needed anything but each other. They certainly didn’t need him.

  “Yes.” He agreed with Hamish. “It’s much different. I’ll try to keep my eyes to myself from now on.”

  “It’s for the best,” Hamish said with a trace of pity.

  “Yes, for the best,” Graeme agreed, turning away from the sight of the lovers before the fire.

  Conall had just left Cathcart’s Hill, having gone to the lookout there to peer through the telescopes and see what was what. Not much had changed. The Russians were waiting out the winter just like the British and the French and the Turks. He was in company with a couple of Coldstream Guards as they ambled back to their respective camps to report the status quo.

  “So, Fletcher, word is you’ve got yourself a little piece to keep you warm this winter,” one of them said with a suggestive leer. “Mind sharing?”

  He stopped short. “What did you just say?” he asked in a low, threatening voice.

  “Now, Fletcher, don’t go getting your dander up,” the other guard said. “He’s a fool. Always has been. Don’t know how to talk about a woman without being insulting.”

  “Insulting?” the first guard said. “How is that insulting? It isn’t as though they’re married, now, is it? He’s got a cook and a washerwoman and a bedmate without tying himself down. There’s a man I can admire.”

  “I’m not with Mrs. Scott for all that,” Conall denied. “She’s not my servant, and she’s not a whore either. And if you say otherwise, you’ll be meeting the business end of my fist.”

  “Settle down,” the second guard said. “We’re just telling you what everyone else is saying behind your back. No disrespect intended. I’m sure she’s a fine woman. But I’d be careful. They’ll send her packing if they think she’s practicing the trade here, if you know what I mean. Sooner or later word will get into the wrong ear. There’s more than one jealous fellow around here wishing they were in your shoes.”

  Before Conall could put them both in their place he was hailed from down the hill. He turned to see Dougie and Brodie heading his way, their scarlet jackets a bright splash of color against the winter-brown landscape.

  “Saved by my brothers,” he growled at the two guards. “Run back to your worthless regiment and tell them to stop gossiping like old women. And if I hear any of you have repeated such rot about Mrs. Scott, I’ll march over there and thrash you.”

  “You Fletchers and your tempers,” muttered the first guard. “They ought to lock you all up!”

  Conall made a rude hand gesture and jogged down the hill to meet up with his brothers.

  “What did you see?” Dougie asked.

  “Nothing,” Conall said with a shrug. “Same old thing. Everyone freezing their arses off on both sides of the line.”

  “I’d hate to be in the trenches,” Brodie said with a shudder. “I see them carrying the poor buggers off with feet black from frostbite every day. What a godforsaken place.”

  “Well, it’s our place right now,” Dougie said firmly. “And defend it we will until they say otherwise. May Nicholas rot in hell.”

  “You can curse the tsar all you want,” Conall said. “It won’t make a bloody bit of difference.” They walked together for a minute or two and Conall noticed his two brothers exchanging odd looks. “Now what’s this?” he asked, immediately suspicious. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” He got a sick feeling. “Is it Avril? Is she all right?”

  Dougie put a hand on his arm. “She’s fine lad, fine. But it’s her we were wanting to talk to you about.” He cleared his throat. “Brodie.”

  Brodie looked like a deer in a trap. “Me?” he said. “Ah, that is to say, yes, Mrs. Scott. You see, Conall, there’s been some talk.”

  “I know,” Conall said angrily. “I was setting those two guards straight when you called out to me. I hate that Avril’s name is being dragged through the mud.”

  “Well, then, do something about it,” Dougie growled in irritation. “Either marry her, or set her aside. You’re the one that’s brought it on her.”

  “I did no such thing,” he denied. “She wouldn’t let me take care of her without making her my woman in every way. She was headstrong about it, I tell you. Do you think I wanted to bring her name low?”

  “You could have said no,” Brodie suggested logically.

  “And let some other lout have her who would treat her badly?” Conall exclaimed. “Sit back and watch another man provide for her and take her to his bed?” He shook his head. “I couldn’t do it.”

  “You shouldn’t do it,” Dougie declared. “She shouldn’t be with any man, not here, not like this. She came here as a sergeant’s wife, a respectable woman. She should be left in peace and we should all take care of her until she can go home.”

  “She won’t take charity,” Conall told him grimly. “That’s how she sees it.”

  “Are you willing to break off with her?” Brodie asked. “I know you care for her.”

  “I want to marry her,” Conall said, exasperated. “But she won’t have me.”

  That made Dougie stop walking and stare at him in surprise. “What do you mean, she won’t have you?”

  “I mean she said no,” Conall said through gritted teeth. “Do I have to draw you a picture, you thick-headed fool?”

  “Why?” Brodie asked, clearly shocked.

  “She thinks I only want to marry her out of some misguided sense of responsibility,” Conall told them. “I can’t convince her otherwise. She says she’s too old and too beneath me.”

  “Who filled her head with that rot?” Dougie asked angrily. “She can’t be more than a few years older, less than Mum and Father. And she’s a fine-looking woman, we all agree. As for being beneath you, why, you come from farmers. With a little money and land, yes, but farmers just the same.”

  “That’s what I told her,” Conall said. “She didn’t believe me.”

  “Then she must not love you,” Brodie said sadly. “I’m sorry, Connie, truly I am.”

  Conall cleared his throat and turned his head, letting the wind dry the tears in his eyes. “Aye, that was my conclusion as well.”

  Dougie clapped him on the back and then went so far as to give him a brief one-armed hug. “Every lad’s heart has to be broken at least once,” he said sadly. “Sorry I am, too, Connie.”

  They walked in silence for another minute and their camp came into view. The sight of Avril’s hut made Conall’s chest ache.

  “Are you going to tell her today?” Dougie asked. “I think it’s best. No sense prolonging it, and if you don’t end it now it may be too late for her.”

  Conall nodded. “Aye, today.” He’d never imagined when he left that morning that it would be his last waking in Avril’s arms. “But I’m not going to be far from her. She’ll accept my help whether she likes it or not. And I’ll not have every lowlife in Sevastopol knocking on her door. Munro will help.” Dougie shot him a sharp glance. “What?” he asked, suddenly feeling as though he’d been caught out in something, but he didn’t know what. He was blushing and he didn’t know why.

  “You’ve grown close to the captain, eh?” was all Dougie asked, casually looking away across camp
.

  “Yes,” Conall said defensively. “He’s a good man. He saved my life at Balaclava and you know it. And he took care of Avril when I was in hospital.”

  “True, true,” Brodie said, suddenly very interested in dusting off his jacket.

  “What if it’s Munro who takes your place with Mrs. Scott?” Dougie asked. “What then?”

  Conall grew hot and then cold and he stumbled. His emotions were going hither and yon, and he didn’t know what to make of it. The thought of Munro and Avril together didn’t anger him so much as agitate him. He deliberately didn’t pursue the thought. “If that’s the way of it, then I’ll step aside,” he mumbled. “But only,” he said fiercely, raising one finger and looking at Dougie and then Brodie, “only if he marries her.”

  Chapter Five

  “You what?” Avril asked. She could feel her face pale as she almost fell down onto the stool in her hut.

  “I’m breaking it off with you, Avril,” Conall said gravely. He went to one knee in front of her and took her gloved hand in his. She wished their hands were bare and she could feel his skin against hers. “People are talking and it’s not good talk.” He looked down at the floor and smoothed his beard with one hand. “They’re saying ugly things about you, and I won’t have it.” The look he gave her then was fierce and defiant. “If you won’t marry me, then I’ll have to end it to save your name.”

  Avril felt her temper rise. She shoved him back and he fell on his rump. “So you’re tired of me already, are you?” she accused him. She swiped at the hot tears in her eyes, not sure if they were tears of sorrow or tears of rage. “I thought better of you, Conall Fletcher.”

  “Avril,” he said, pleading with his eyes. “You’ve got to understand, I feel to blame for sullying your name. Surely you can see the only solution is for me to leave you alone?”

  “And I asked to be sullied, didn’t I?” she asked angrily, pacing the small hut around Conall. “I don’t care about the talk,” she lied. She knew what could happen if it reached the wrong ears, but she was beyond caring. She didn’t want to give Conall up. She’d never have the likes of him again, and she knew it. He was so fine, such a good man, a sweet lover and strong protector. He’d become the rock she leaned on. And now he was pulling that foundation away and she’d be alone again in the cold. It had only been a few weeks. She’d only had him for a few weeks. Surely she deserved more than that.

  “Marry me,” Conall insisted again. She treasured each time he’d asked, stored the memories away. But as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t say yes. He might think he wanted her now, but it was war. It was cold and frightening, and she was here. She might be the best thing available in this hell, but once they were back home, he’d regret binding himself to a woman like her. One who came from common stock, good for nothing but hard work and a humble life. She shook her head, afraid to speak for fear yes would tumble from her lips.

  Conall turned away as he put a hand on the floor and pushed himself back up to his knees. He stood slowly. “Well, then,” he said sadly. “That’s that, then, isn’t it?” When he looked at her, the shine of tears in his eyes and the bleak look on his face were nearly her undoing. “Sorry I am that you couldn’t care for me as I do for you, Avril,” he said, sadness dripping from each word. Did he know he was ripping her heart out?

  “You’d regret it,” she said in a hoarse whisper, “and I couldn’t stand that. Couldn’t stand seeing the disappointment in your eyes when you looked at me.”

  “Never,” he vowed fiercely, his blue eyes blazing with sincerity. He took two quick steps to her and dragged her into his arms as if he couldn’t stop himself. “It isn’t regret in my kisses, is it?” Before she could answer his mouth slammed down on hers, no hesitation in him now as there had been just a few weeks ago. He’d loved her plenty in that time, learned to please her and surprise her in their love play. He was as fierce and honest in bed as he was in speech and manner. He loved her earthiness, her delight in her woman’s pleasure and in his body. And never, never had she seen regret in his face, it was true. But that was here and now. She knew the look of a man who didn’t get what he’d bargained for. She’d seen it in her late husband’s eyes too many times not to dread it. To him she’d grown too old and hard following him to war, too rough and strong for his taste. And though he’d enjoyed her brazen ways in the marriage bed, he was forever accusing her of wanting other men. Conall hadn’t—not even Munro, who was here almost as often as he was. Was that only a matter of time as well? Because her feelings for Munro were growing day by day. Perhaps her late husband had been right about her. She couldn’t stay true to one man.

  She couldn’t fight his kisses. She didn’t want to. Maybe…maybe this would make him stay for a while longer. She threw her arms around his neck and opened her mouth and sucked his tongue and breathed his air. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist. When he sat down on the edge of her cot and yanked her skirt up she squirmed, giving him room, trying to kiss as much of him as she could. Then he pulled his kilt out of the way and she saw his cock, so big and proud and hard for her, and she felt light-headed. “Yes, yes,” she whispered. She rose up on her knees and let him pull her back down onto his shaft. It felt so good she shuddered. Even now he was gentle with her as she wasn’t that wet, but a few soft strokes and she was more than ready to be fucked. “Conall,” she begged. “Please.”

  “That’s right,” he growled, shoving up into her. “I know what you need, don’t I? And I give it to you, don’t I?”

  “Yes,” she said in a trembling voice, moving on top of him, still wearing her coat and shoes and gloves, caring only for his cock and being fucked by him. He made her so desperate for him, she cared naught for the unlocked door or the midday hour.

  “Ah, Avril,” he said with a heavy breath, “you undo me. Such a glorious fuck, you are. So perfect.” He thrust into her, one hand balanced behind him on the bed as the other held her waist, holding her in place so he could shove into her again and again.

  With a cry she came, and he gave to her again, thrusting deep and holding her there as he rocked her, stretching out the pleasure until she was trembling in his arms. When he moved again at last she gasped and shuddered, her pleasure renewed.

  “Ah, lass,” he growled. “When you come like that.” He grabbed her hip and thrust high and threw his head back as he came, and Avril gloried in how beautiful he was, this man who owned her in ways he’d never know.

  When it was over, he wouldn’t look at her. He gently lifted her to her feet and then rose from her cot and straightened his kilt. “I had no right,” he said gruffly. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage. Again.”

  “Don’t be a fool,” she said, turning her back to him, fighting her tears. He was still leaving. She could feel his goodbye in the air.

  “It was fine while it lasted, wasn’t it?” he asked softly at her door.

  When she didn’t answer he simply left, closing the door behind him. She raced over and locked it before she gave in to her tears.

  Conall was sitting in his tent, cleaning his rifle and thinking of Avril. He’d sent Brodie over to see how she was. Night was coming on. He couldn’t see her yet. He felt as though his chest had caved in when he’d walked out on her. It had been all he could do to breathe for an hour or so afterward. Thank God he wasn’t expected to engage the enemy today.

  “Good afternoon, Captain Munro,” he heard someone say outside. He expected a call of greeting, but Munro charged into his tent without warning.

  Conall rose quickly when he saw Munro’s thunderous expression. He carefully set his rifle down, never taking his eyes off the other man. “Munro,” he said slowly.

  “You bloody bastard,” Munro said and, without further ado, hauled off and punched him. Conall fell back onto his cot, his hand going to his throbbing cheek. Obviously Munro had heard about him and Avril.

  “It was the right thing to do and you know it.” He defended himself. “I know you
’ve heard the talk, same as me. Even Douglas and Brodie agreed with my decision.”

  “Douglas never thought you should get involved with her in the first place,” Munro barked. “So that’s neither here not there. What matters is that you did get involved with her, and now you’ve abandoned her, not only to the talk but the consequences of her affair with you.”

  “What consequences?” Conall demanded.

  “You fool,” Munro growled. “What if she’s got a babe? Then what?”

  “Then she’ll have to marry me,” Conall said vehemently. “I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “Why the hell don’t you just marry her now?” Munro demanded. “That’s the right thing to do.”

  “She won’t marry me,” he told him. “Refused me flat. I’ve asked and asked and asked until I was blue in the face. She won’t do it.”

  Munro looked like he’d just been shot. “She won’t marry you? She doesn’t love you?”

  Conall put his head in his hands. “Yes, thank you for being the third person today to point that out.” He looked up at Munro unhappily. “No, apparently she doesn’t love me enough to marry me.”

  “Ach, that’s more foolishness,” Munro said. “I know she loves you.”

  “How do you know?” Conall asked in exasperation. “Because I’m not so sure. I thought I was, but then there you have it. She won’t marry me.”

  “She’d have no one else,” Munro said with conviction. “While you were in Scutari, I mean. As soon as you were gone there was a steady stream of would-be suitors at her door, and she turned them all away.”

  “Not all,” Conall said, watching Munro carefully. “She didn’t turn you away, did she? Found you there the day I returned.”

  “Ach, boy, don’t you know I was keeping her safe for you?” He turned away as if the admission embarrassed him.

  “I’m not a boy,” he said out of habit. “Why? Why were you keeping her for me? You could have had her yourself. She told me so. Told me she was hoping you’d be the one.”