"He's a good man. He deserves a wife who can love him and bear him sons."
"I think in time I could grow to love him, if only my past would stop intruding on the present. The terrible thing is I dinna deserve his love. But Lady Asilinn has told me that she has seen our love in a vision." Devon pulled away gently, avoiding Malcolm's probing eyes.
A grin spread across his face. "Asilinn is never wrong."
"So she has told me," Devon said testily.
"Is this what you wished to discuss?"
"There is one other thing. Bryce told me he'll tell Lord Wycliff I killed Frazer if I dinna help him get the land he wants in the property settlement."
"How can he do that, you didna kill Frazer!" Malcolm snorted.
Devon faced her father. "I did," she whispered. The silence in the room was deafening. They were in suspended animation, locked in the trance induced by her confession.
"Heaven help us," Malcolm murmured, staring at her in disbelief. "Devon, I have so many questions. How could you have done this thing?"
"Maybe someday I'll have the strength to tell you," she replied. "If you think I should die for my sins, I beg you to take my life now. I would rather die by your hand than any other. I'll write a full confession so you'll be absolved of all guilt in my execution."
"Stop this nonsense! If you killed him, I'm sure you had good reason."
"There is no reason good enough to commit murder."
"'Tis my fault," Malcolm cried brokenly. "Instead of running off traveling after you married the bastard, I should have been here to protect you from his abuse. I should have done the deed myself. Please forgive me." Malcolm buried his head in his hands and cried.
Devon stroked her father's head. "Dinna blame yourself," she pleaded. "'Twas I who wouldna hear you. You tried to tell me he was an evil man."
"The devil… he was the devil."
"Do you still love me Father, now you know what I have done?"
Malcolm pulled her onto his lap and hugged her. "I'll always love you, girl. No matter what might befall us, remember that."
They sat comforting each other for some time before Devon found the courage to speak. "I'm going to ask Liam to consummate our vows tonight. I'm determined to do right by my husband. Mayhaps Liam will find a way to make Asilinn's vision come true."
Her father nodded. "'Tis the right thing." His eyes met hers. "And we may need Liam's help now more than ever."
"Aye, so." Rising, she planted a kiss on his cheek and left the room.
***
Devon stepped into the master's chamber so quietly Liam barely heard the door creak. His thoughts were of poisons and murderers. She cleared her throat and he turned to see her behind him. She was looking down at her name scrawled across the ledger. She took his hand and came around to stand in front of the chair.
"I see you have found the page."
"I saw it before we went to the funeral."
"Yet you didna tell my father."
"I felt I owed you a chance to explain it yourself first."
"'Twas for me," Devon said quietly. "I couldna bear life with Frazer." She dropped his hand and sighed. "But I couldna bring myself to use the poison. I suppose I'm a coward."
Liam reached up and took both her hands in his. "Not a coward," he corrected, "a survivor. You had the strength to survive your abuse, and I'm very glad you're so strong.”
"I'm not the person you think I am."
"Then show me who you are. I want to know you, to share your pain and give you a new life full of pleasure and joy."
His whiskey-colored eyes sent hot daggers through her with their heat. "I shall try, Liam," she whispered. "Do you believe me about the Henbane?"
Without answering, he stood up and ripped the page with her name on it out of the ledger. In one motion, he crumpled it and threw it into the flames. Devon stood watching it burn, and then moved over to stand close beside him.
Gingerly she placed both hands on his massive chest. His scalding gaze sent scorching lines of fire across her skin. At least he couldn't see how he was affecting her. Her veil still provided a safe haven.
"I told you I protect what's mine," he whispered.
"Then make me yours completely," she murmured. "I'm ready."
Liam exhaled sharply and stepped back from her. "Are you ready or grateful for this favor?" he asked, motioning to the charred ash of the burnt page.
"I want to be your true wife. 'Tis the only way I'll ever be free of my past."
His handsome face clouded and he sighed. "I dinna think you're ready for me yet."
"I long for the new start you offer me. I'd be lying if I told you I wasna afraid, but I want to be yours tonight." He stood so stoically, she was almost sorry she had offered herself to him. "If… if you've changed you mind, I'll understand," she stammered.
He moved his hand to caress her face beneath the veil. "Dear Devon, I havena changed my mind, but…." He shook his head and stepped away from her as if totally unable to explain his hesitance. "Let's eat first."
"You dinna want me!" The cry tore from her throat. The pain the realization caused shocked her.
In one stride he was beside her again, his hands gripping her shoulders as his heated gaze stripped away all her defenses. She wanted to cry—to run.
"Devon!" he growled. "I'm giving you a chance to change your mind."
"Why don't you just say it? You dinna want me!"
"I want you so badly. I dinna think I'll be able to stop if you should suddenly change your mind. I want you to be sure."
"Oh," she gasped, a shiver of dread washing over her.
Liam released her and sank into a chair by the fire. "Let's have dinner, and then you tell me if this is really what you want."
She nodded and sat down opposite him at the small table Moira had prepared for them. With a trembling hand, she lifted the swath of cloth that covered the plates and scooted one toward Liam.
The aroma of roast chicken filled the air. Under any other circumstance, Devon might have appreciated one of her favorite meals. Liam smiled and opened the bottle of Meade, pouring her a glass.
Skillfully maneuvering to drink a few sips of the heady brew, Devon began taking her food up under her veil to eat. She watched her husband partake of the meal before him.
His lips seemed to caress the food, his mouth moving over it the way it had moved over her bare flesh not so long ago. His eyes searched her veiled face. Liam was starving for a taste of her. His expression told her the naked truth. She managed to gulp down part of her supper, but her trepidation was rising as surely as her husband's desire.
Without finishing, he shoved the plate away and took her hand, his smoldering gaze threatening to dissolve the netting that hid her from him. Devon sucked in her breath when his lips began to move over her hand. At first, the caresses were feather light, and then she felt his warm tongue teasing her hand—her wrist. Devon's pulse hammered under his fiery caress. She shivered involuntarily and he raised his head to watch her.
"Decide now, love. I promise I wilna hurt you," he murmured, as if he could read her every thought.
Devon pulled herself together and rose from the table. Shakily she moved her fingers to unfasten the bodice of her dress. Liam's magnetic eyes watched her like a cat about to spring upon a mouse, but she would let him have her tonight. This was her only choice.
With a ragged sigh, she ripped open the front of her kirtle. Her pale breasts heaved under his impassioned gaze. "I'm ready," she heard herself say. Her fingers moved stiffly to push back the material. Her mind and body were separate—she could let him take her.
Liam stood and gently pushed her trembling hands from the fastenings. "You are so lovely," he whispered. "I wilna hurt you." She felt his warm fingers move to continue her task.
Liam lowered his head to capture her lips with his. It began with a tiny stroke beneath the fabric—a searing flight across her contracted nipple that scorched her flesh, then gentle concentric circle
s over the quivering exposed peaks. Devon fought all the old fears—this time he had warned her. There was not stopping, and she had agreed.
His insistent lips devoured her, peeling away all the barriers—his tongue invading her mouth. Liam's palms cupped her breasts. His hands ran up her shoulders slipping off her shift as they went. Strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her off the floor and leaving the gown in a discarded heap.
Suddenly she wore nothing but her veil. She felt him lift her and carry her to the velvet-curtained bed—but it was happening to someone else. He set her down lightly on the ticking and stood back to remove his own clothing. As he disrobed before her, he wore a look of compassionate concern she didn't really understand.
"Devon," he whispered. "Would you allow me to remove your veil?"
Unable to form any words as his magnificent body came fully into view, she shook her head no.
"Please," he murmured.
"Not this time."
He lowered himself to the bed beside her, exploring her creamy flesh with the scorching heat of his perusal. She looked down to see what he found so enchanting. The golden glow of the firelight bathed her body.
"Aren't you going to close the curtain?" Devon asked hesitantly.
He smiled and ran his hand over her bare skin. "I'd rather not, the view is too spectacular. You have the most beautiful body," he told her. She felt his hands begin a steady stroke across her quivering chest. "Your breasts beg for my caress." His hand moved down her flat stomach to rest on the triangle of curls at the juncture of her thighs. "Your loins invite me to a paradise beyond imagining."
Devon froze in fear and his words only made her more anxious. What was this nonsense he was telling her? She gasped when his lips moved to savor her tender nipples. A warm sensation began in her chest. "Dinna be afraid," he murmured between his torturous samplings.
She was afraid. He seemed perfectly relaxed. Continuing his attention to each rosy crest, his hand lowered to begin a steady stroke between her legs—touching her most private parts—pressing back the tender folds to find the spot he used to drive her wild. The fire was spreading, consuming her. She shuddered breathlessly beneath his labors.
His lips touched her everywhere, tasting her mouth, her hardened nipples, trailing lower. Devon tossed her head back and forth, gasping for air. Her body melted under his touch—his lips. His fingers entered her, probing, stroking, igniting her. She was wet beneath his touch.
She felt his hands spread her thighs apart. He rolled over on top of her holding his weight off of her as he prepared to enter her depths. She could feel his steel rod pressed hot and hard at the entrance to her body.
Terror struck her heart. Always this had meant pain to her. Her body went rigid. Her hands gripped the sheets in fear as she felt him pushing into her. He was there moving inside her. There was no pain. How could this be? Her grip on the bedding relaxed and she moved her arms up to hold him.
Liam was losing control. She felt his urgency growing with each invasion—he thrust into her repeatedly. He was moaning, whispering her name, but she was detached from her body. She marveled at the mechanics of the whole thing—the smoothness of his muscles each time he arched into her, the tenderness of his exploding passion. His seed shot into her and he came to rest with a deep shudder.
He lay there spent, a sheen of perspiration covering him from his effort. At length he rolled off of her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry, love," he said, nuzzling her neck, his hot breath teasing her.
"Sorry for what?" Devon asked. "You didna hurt me. 'Tis a miracle. I felt no pain at all."
Liam groaned in frustration. "I had hoped to give you pleasure," he told her with a breathless sigh. "But I couldna hold myself back any longer. We'll try again later," he suggested.
"Tonight?" she questioned in alarm. "Mayhaps tomorrow, Milord. I'm going to my bed now."
"Devon, I want you to feel pleasure when we join together," Liam said softly. "Talk with me awhile. Tell me what pleased you and what made you afraid. I could feel your body go rigid when I entered you. Did Frazer used to hurt you somehow then?"
Devon's whole body blushed scarlet under his interrogation. "How can I speak of these things?" she gasped. "I'm sorry you found me so inadequate!" She jerked away from him and sprang from the bed.
"Devon! Wait!" Liam called, jumping up and running after her.
Devon reached her room and slammed the door closed in his face. He could hear the bolt click into place. "Devon, listen to me. Devon, I swear if you dinna answer me, I'll break this door down!"
"What is it, Milord?" came her shaky reply.
"I enjoyed everything we did this evening. I found you enchanting. I'm only disappointed by my lack of ability to make you feel pleasure, nothing else. Do you understand?" There was silence beyond the door. "Devon, do you hear me?"
The door opened and she stood before him with a robe flung loosely over her. "Nay Milord, I dinna understand," she choked tearfully. "I was proud of myself that I managed to let you take me even though I was so afraid, and you are dissatisfied with my response to you. I apologize for being so inadequate. In the morning I shall find you a whore to fill your bed."
Liam grabbed her and lifted her off the ground until her veiled face hovered close to his. "I dinna want any other woman, only you! Do not make me tell you this again," he warned. "I'm pleased with you. I'm disappointed in myself. And please do me the courtesy of calling me Liam, especially after we have joined as one."
His lips found hers in an intimate kiss. He kindled the flame that had burned earlier within her, making it grow again, then suddenly withdrawing and easing her to the floor.
"Good night, love," he said softly. "You pleased me this evening, really you did," he whispered.
"Good night," Devon replied, closing the door and leaning back against it quivering. What was he doing to her? What was the ache that had settled in her loins? She took her veil off and threw it across the floor.
Chapter Twelve
Liam tossed fitfully for hours in his bed. He thought having Devon would quell some of this raging desire, but having her without igniting her passion beneath him left him hungry for his next attempt to free her from the bonds of the past. He awoke several times in a sweat from his vivid dreams of finally possessing her, her body, and her love. Finally, he fell into a deep sleep.
He was disappointed to find her chamber empty when he rose the next morning. Dressing, Liam went down to the main hall. Malcolm and Lord Wycliff sat with Bryce at a table full of documents. "We were just about to go in search of you, Laird MacLean," Wycliff told him. "'Tis time to begin negotiations on this property settlement."
Liam groaned. All he wanted to do was find Devon and drag her back to bed so he could try again to dispel her tortured past. He was going insane. He was sure of it.
"Where is Devon?" Liam asked. "I think she should be present at the negotiations."
"I sent a servant to find her," Malcolm replied. "Have something to eat while we wait."
Liam was surprised when Bryce and Lord Wycliff did not object to a woman being included in such matters.
A servant entered the room tentatively. "Milord, Lady Devon has gone riding," he stated.
"Did she go alone?" Liam asked in agitation.
"Nay Milord, Garyth accompanies her," the man explained.
Liam felt like someone kicked him in the chest. She had given herself to him willingly, but had she suffered through his affections only to ride out for a rendezvous with her secret lover? Was that why she held herself from him before? He saw her with Garyth the night she was to meet him in the tower. Garyth seemed much more attentive than a friend should be.
"We'll have the meeting later," Liam growled, hurrying out of the hall.
"Liam!" Malcolm cried after him, but Liam ignored his father-in-law and ran to the stables.
Archie greeted him with surprise. "She didna go alone," he told Liam.
"I'm well aware of that," Liam said.
<
br /> Archie stood by while Liam saddled up. "It sounds like yer takin' me job, Milord. I'm not so blind I canna saddle a horse."
"I know, old friend, but I'm in a hurry." Liam mounted his horse. "Did you hear them say which way they were going?"
"They've been together since they were children, Milord," Archie said.
"Damnation man! I asked where they went!"
"They talked of goin' south towards the Firth of Lorn."
Devon's favorite spot—she'd taken him to her favorite spot. Liam wheeled his horse and galloped out of the castle gate, leaving Archie standing in the barnyard.
***
Garyth had ridden for the better part of an hour in silence, obeying Devon's wishes with his lack of conversation. For that, she was grateful, even though she knew it wouldn't last. She'd just slowed down, after letting her horse have its head on a quick gallop across the moor, when he pulled up beside her.
"Devon, what's he done to send you in flight? Is it your husband? Has he hurt you?"
"'Tis nothing," she retorted.
"If he's harmed you in any way, I'd gladly give my life to protect you," Garyth swore earnestly.
Devon pulled her horse to a stop and stared at him. "Dear Garyth." She paused and bit her lip. "Liam doesna mistreat me. My husband asked me not to ride alone, so I asked you to accompany me. 'Tis truly that simple."
"I dinna believe you," Garyth persisted. "You asked me along for some other purpose."
"Well, in part that is true," Devon admitted.
"I knew it."
"Let's dismount and we'll talk," Devon suggested.
Garyth threw himself down from his mount and moved to help her to the ground. Hesitantly she accepted his aid, but he pulled her close on her descent, holding her body to his as he let her slide to the ground. Devon found her footing and pushed back away from him. With a frustrated groan, she stalked off toward the rocky precipice overlooking the shoreline of the firth.
She smelled Garyth come behind her, leather and ripe clothes. She wondered if he ever bathed. To her dismay, she felt his body press against her back—his arms encircling her waist. Devon jerked away.
Connie C. Scharon - Highland Legends 02 Page 12
