Conall looked over at Graeme. Graeme nodded and stood slowly. “I’ll get her,” he announced and ducked into the hut. A moment later the door opened and Avril stepped out, Graeme behind her. The sun hit her bright hair and she shone like a gold coin. Her cheeks were pink, either from the cold or embarrassment. She clutched her skirts with her gloved hands as she walked over.
“Good afternoon,” she said carefully as she stopped at Conall’s side. Graeme had taken his place in the chair by the door again.
“Good afternoon,” Miss McMillan said. She reached for Brodie’s hand, and he helped her down off her horse. Immediately there was a call from the ladies still waiting on their horses.
“Miss McMillan!” the older woman called out. “We must be going.”
She turned to her companions and waved them off. “Yes, go right ahead. Lieutenant Fletcher will see me back home.” She turned back to Avril, dismissing the other ladies much to their dismay. They turned immediately and trotted off the way they’d come, the young officer trailing them.
“And how are you today, Mrs. Scott?” Miss McMillan said solicitously. “Such a nasty business the other night. I meant to come sooner to see how you got on.”
“I’m fine, Miss, thank you,” Avril said, and Conall didn’t care for her subservient manner. She was as good as ten Miss McMillans as far as he was concerned.
“Douglas didn’t mind switching huts with her,” Conall said. “A lady like Mrs. Scott can’t be left unguarded around here.” He almost dared Miss McMillan to refute Avril’s status.
“Oh, I agree,” Miss McMillan said instead, so sincere, her big eyes wide with alarm. “I’m sure the good men here outweigh the bad, but one can never be too careful. And Mrs. Scott is quite pretty and vivacious, why any man would want to seek her company, I’m sure.” She reached out and patted Avril’s arm. “You must have been very frightened. I know I was the one time I was accosted while riding around the camp. It’s why Papa insists I have an escort now.” She linked her arm with Avril’s. “Have you any tea? I’m frozen right through.”
“Of course,” Avril said, looking stunned. “I can fetch it for you, but let me brew some fresh.”
“I’ll help you,” Miss McMillan said, and Brodie noticeably winced. Miss McMillan glared at him. “I can brew tea, Lieutenant Fletcher, without burning it or setting the hut on fire.”
“I didn’t say a word,” Brodie said innocently. “You brew an excellent cup, ma’am.”
“Humph,” Miss McMillan said, flouncing off and dragging Avril with her. The two disappeared inside and shut the door behind them.
“What is that about?” Conall asked as soon as the ladies were out of sight.
“Tory is worried that Mrs. Scott will be shunned by the other ladies in camp because of what the three of you are up to,” Brodie told him flatly. “She insisted on coming over here and making it all respectable.” Brodie glared at him. “And I’m sure to get an earful from her father about it. What the hell are the two of you about, taking up with her bold as brass like this?” He waved at the chairs in front of the hut and Graeme sitting there like he owned the place.
“Tory, is it?” Conall said, turning the tables on him. “And what was that business with Alec? I’d like to know.”
“We weren’t discussing me,” Brodie said. “We’re discussing your damn foolishness.”
“So Alec’s temper is your fault,” Conall said. “I surmised as much.”
“No, Alec’s temper is his own fault,” Brodie argued. “And you didn’t answer my question.”
“What question?” Conall strolled over to his chair and sat down again, mirroring Graeme on the other side of the door. Graeme grinned slyly at him and he smiled back, a little frisson of awareness skittering down his back and making him shiver. Brodie snorted in disgust.
“And the two of you,” he said. Conall froze and avoided Brodie’s eyes. “Don’t bother trying to deny it,” Brodie told him. “It’s as plain as the nose on your face what’s going on here. You’d best be careful, both of you.”
“Are you being careful?” Graeme asked casually. He was whittling something, as he was wont to do when they were whiling away the hours. He blew the small curls of wood off the stick as he regarded Brodie. Brodie grew flustered.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, and Conall was instantly suspicious of his tone of voice. Brodie could never lie worth a damn.
“Oh,” he said, “you know.” But despite his taunting, Conall didn’t. He felt woefully slow.
“Is Alec a better liar?” Graeme asked. “I can’t imagine you or Miss McMillan can deceive a blind man.”
“You should know, Graeme Munro,” Brodie accused. “You’ve been giving him the eye since we arrived and everyone knows it.”
Conall was catching up fast. Brodie and Alec and Miss McMillan? How had he missed that? He laughed out loud. It would seem he and Ham weren’t the only Fletcher boys to take after their father.
“Hush,” Conall told his brother. “You’ll be telling all to what few men in camp don’t know.” He stroked his beard as he watched Brodie, who was blushing as he stood there with his arms crossed defensively. “Have either of you bedded the girl?” he asked solemnly. “She’s not the kind you can dally with and walk away from. Her father will see you hanged or wed.”
“Of course not,” Brodie snapped. “Not all of us can set our light o’ loves up in convenient quarters and throw rules to the wind.” He shook his head. “Please tell me that you aren’t dallying with Mrs. Scott with plans to walk away.”
“Of course not,” Conall said angrily. “How is it that my own brothers are the ones who think the least of me? You know I want to marry her. Or Graeme will. It’s just a matter of convincing her.”
“With the two of you rutting around her she’s bound to turn up pregnant,” Brodie mused. “Women are strange about that. She’ll marry you then, mark my words.”
“That’s what I’m counting on,” Graeme said, surprising Conall. “But for now, all we can do is try to hurry that along.”
Brodie laughed. “I’m sure you’re doing your best,” he said mockingly.
Just then the door opened and Miss McMillan emerged, holding several cups. Avril was just behind her with a steaming pot of tea. After giving each of the men an empty mug, Miss McMillan sat down across from Conall and Avril poured everyone tea.
“And now you, Mrs. Scott,” Miss McMillan said firmly. She glared at Conall. “Perhaps she might have your seat, Lieutenant Fletcher.” Avril protested, but Conall rose and ushered her into his seat. He was truly chastised by Miss McMillan’s reminder of his manners. He’d best stop taking Avril for granted and start treating her like the lady he wanted everyone to believe her to be, or this whole mess was going to end in disaster. He watched Miss McMillan chat with Avril like an equal and realized his brother, like him, may have found a hidden treasure here in the frozen steppes of the Crimea.
Chapter Fourteen
“We’ll be returning after dark,” Graeme announced from the doorway. Conall waited behind him. Neither man had entered the hut since Brodie and Miss McMillan rode away, which Avril found odd.
She turned to him, her expression stunned. “What?” she asked. “Where are you going?”
“We’re going to walk around camp and make sure everyone sees us,” Graeme told her. “It isn’t right, us being here all the time and being so open about what’s going on. People are talking.”
“Not that nonsense about people talking,” she said. “That’s what drove Conall away before. Are you going to let it happen again? Going to let other people tell you what to do?”
“We’re in the army,” Conall said, amusement in his voice. “That’s all we do.”
Avril crossed her arms and regarded them angrily. “Fine. Go walk about, then, for all I care. What you do is your own business.”
“Be careful, Avril,” Graeme said calmly. “I’ll only take so much sass from you, woman.”<
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“Ach, go on with you,” she said, pretending a disinterest she was far from feeling. Graeme’s words had made butterflies take flight in her stomach. He was a man who liked to administer a good pinch and a slap on the bottom when he was fucking her. She’d often wondered if there was more to that. His words quieted her nerves in a strange way. They weren’t walking away from her. They were coming back.
“Think about what I said,” Graeme warned her.
“I know I am,” she heard Conall say and had to smile at the eagerness in his voice. Always ready for anything was her Conall.
A few minutes later there was a knock on her door. The sun hadn’t yet set, so she was smiling when she answered the door, amused they couldn’t wait that long to come back to her. She was shocked speechless to see Miss McMillan’s father, Colonel McMillan, at her door. He removed his hat and politely bowed to her.
“Good evening, Mrs. Scott,” he said. “Have you a moment to talk?”
She hesitated a moment. “Of course,” she said, frantically wondering what he wanted of her. “Let me just grab my coat.” Not even the colonel was getting inside her hut when she was here alone. Graeme would have a fit.
“Of course,” the colonel said with a polite smile. “I’ll wait here.” She looked over his shoulder and saw his two aides standing several feet away, holding their horses. They wouldn’t meet her gaze. Avril’s stomach churned with worry.
When she’d donned her coat she shut the door firmly behind her and joined the colonel outside. The sunset was beautiful, orange and red and pink blazing across the horizon.
“It would seem, Mrs. Scott,” the colonel began, “that you have become a bit of a distraction here in camp.”
She made no comment, firmly closing her mouth and biting her lips. Better to let him get it all out so she’d know what she had to defend herself against. The colonel was watching her closely, waiting. Finally he nodded and turned away. “Shall we walk?” he asked, holding out his arm for her. She slid her hand tentatively into the curve of his elbow.
They strolled slowly away from the hut. Avril noticed the camp was strangely empty as they passed. Rats abandoning the ship, Avril thought bitterly.
“You must see my dilemma, Mrs. Scott,” the colonel said at last. “You are a valuable member of our little community here. It hasn’t escaped my notice how many of my men you take care of. You are mother, cook, nurse and seamstress to half my officers and some of the soldiers too.” He sighed. “Yet there are ladies here as well. Circumstances have become complicated, you understand?” She nodded but still made no comment. The colonel sighed again. “I do not wish to send you away from camp,” the colonel said frankly. “I can’t guarantee your safety should I do so, and there are many, my daughter included, who would be very upset if I did.”
“I’ve almost saved enough for passage home,” she said, finally speaking. She didn’t want to be sent away. “The men pay me for the cooking and the sewing and such.”
“Do they?” he asked with interest. “Good. That’s good.” They walked for a moment in silence. “How long until you have enough to get home?” he asked, though he sounded reluctant, as though afraid to offend.
“Not long,” she said. “A month or two, perhaps, if the money keeps coming in as it is.” She felt sick to her stomach, having to talk of leaving in such a straightforward way. As though her heart wasn’t breaking to leave Conall and Graeme behind.
They’d walked a circle and arrived back at her door. “Then I shall do nothing about you for the moment,” the colonel said not unkindly. “I shall silence those who are whispering in my ear and wait. But if you are not gone or wed in two months’ time, Mrs. Scott, I’m afraid I shall have to insist you seek shelter somewhere else. Perhaps in Scutari? They have need of nurses there, I’m told.”
“Yes, sir.” Avril blinked back tears. It had come to this, her being thrown out of camp for being a loose woman and no better than a whore. He hadn’t said the words, but she understood what he meant.
“Give my regards to Captain Munro and Lieutenant Fletcher,” he said, tipping his hat politely. “I bid you good night.”
Avril was pacing the small square of her hut when another knock came at the door. She had no idea how long it had been since the colonel left. “Who is it?” she called out fearfully. Had he changed his mind and sent someone to evict her?
“It is I,” Graeme said formally through the door. “Are you all right?”
She yanked the door open only to find it was deepest night. “Yes,” she lied. She looked about furtively but didn’t see anyone spying. Grabbing his arm, she dragged him inside and shut the door.
“What’s going on?” Graeme demanded.
“Nothing,” she lied again, not looking at him. “Where’s Conall?”
“We decided to separate our arrivals by a few minutes. No need to be obvious.”
“A little late for that, isn’t it?” she asked, some of her bitterness seeping through.
“You’re the one who seemed to think our caution was unfounded. Now you’re complaining. Should I go?” He sounded so calm and cool, and she recognized it for what it was. A disguise, one he donned when he felt the need to hide his feelings.
“No. No, I don’t want you to go. I never want you to go,” she admitted foolishly. She’d have to tell them soon about the colonel’s visit and her plans to leave. But not tonight. They were all in a strange mood tonight. Perhaps Conall would set them right.
It happened so fast when Conall walked in Avril’s door that he had no time to react or resist. Graeme grabbed him and spun him into the room. Then he came in close behind him and wrapped his arm around Conall’s neck and grabbed Conall’s jaw, turning his head sharply to the side, exposing his neck. Graeme had his other arm wrapped around Conall’s chest, pinning his arms down. He leaned down and bit Conall’s neck sharply. Conall cried out and then Graeme was sucking the spot, licking it and kissing Conall’s neck. Graeme’s newly grown beard scratched against his skin. He went from alarm to fear to desire so fast his head was spinning.
Avril stood on the other side of the room, as stunned as he was. She was breathing fast and hard, watching them with eyes that glittered in the light from the stove fire. Graeme took a few steps back, dragging a stumbling Conall with him, still holding his head at an awkward angle. He was caught, helpless, and his heart was tripping as his cock filled and throbbed, the thought of being at Graeme’s mercy arousing beyond belief. Conall heard Graeme’s back hit the wall. Then Graeme reached down with the hand that had been holding his chest and cupped Conall’s cock through his kilt.
“You deserve a reward,” Graeme rasped quietly. “You were right to make me see we were treating Avril ill. Such a gentleman you were, giving her your chair and helping her stand and walking her to her door but no farther. Telling me we had to stay away until dark. What are we going to do in the dark?”
Conall could hardly speak he was so out of breath and rattled with desire. He’d never seen Graeme like this. Graeme waited patiently for an answer and all the while Avril watched them, her hands gripping fistfuls of her skirt as though she wasn’t sure what to do with them.
“We’re going to fuck,” Conall said in a rough growl.
“Are we?” Graeme asked. “Who is we?”
Conall’s heart sped up. This was what Graeme was leading up to. “You and me,” Conall said, not a trace in his voice of the uncertainty he felt.
“That’s right,” Graeme said approvingly. A warm glow spread from Conall’s chest at how pleased he’d made Graeme. “Is that what Avril wants?” he asked, and Conall looked at her intently. Graeme gripped his cock and balls firmly through his kilt and Conall cried out, his hips jerking into Graeme’s almost painful hold.
“Yes,” Avril said quickly. “Yes, that’s what I want. I want to watch you.”
“You’ll do more than watch,” Graeme told her harshly. “Get undressed.” She hesitated and Graeme’s hold on Conall remained unflinching.
“Now, Avril.”
Avril unbuttoned her dress and slid it off her shoulders slowly, exposing first one and then the other. The dress wasn’t flattering. It was a rough black wool, serviceable and warm. It made Avril look pale and washed out. Only when she took it off did one notice her rosy complexion and gold hair and blue eyes. It was like unveiling a painting. The dress fell at her feet and she picked it up and laid it carefully over the back of a chair. She wore her petticoats and slip along with her dark woolen hose and scuffed boots.
“More,” Graeme said.
“But I want to watch you fuck Conall,” she protested.
“All of it,” Graeme ordered, ignoring her protest.
She moved closer to the fire and off came her petticoat and slip. She sat to unbuckle her boots and then stood and put a foot on the chair and made a show of rolling her hose down one leg and then the other. Conall could feel how hard Graeme was, pressed against his buttocks. He knew he ought to be frightened of taking that big cock inside him, but all he felt was anticipation and exhilaration. They’d talked about it and put it off and found excuses not to do it. But tonight something had pushed Graeme into it. He wasn’t sure what, but he was grateful, and grateful it seemed to be what Avril wanted too.
“Now help me get Conall undressed,” he told her. Conall started to say something and Graeme bit his neck again, stopping the words in his throat. “You don’t get to say anything about it,” Graeme whispered in his ear. “Your job tonight is just to get fucked.”
Conall was ready right then. He wanted Graeme fiercely, could practically feel what that big cock was going to be like. He kept his mouth shut and Graeme slowly released him. He just stood there.
Conall: The 93rd Highlanders, Book Two Page 10
