by Lynsay Sands
Johnny-Boy immediately moved to pick up his mistress, but Duncan stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Taking his place, he carefully slid his hands beneath her frail body and gently lifted her. Despite his care, Lady Wildwood moaned in pain as Duncan carried her to the cart.
In the few seconds she had before he reached the wagon, Ebba had done her best to arrange a blanket and bag into as comfortable a bed as she could for the woman. Once Lady Wildwood was settled in the wagon, Iliana started to climb aboard, but Duncan caught her back and gestured to the old woman to mount the cart. Iliana frowned unhappily, but resigned herself to not accompanying her mother. There simply wasn't room for the three of them in the cart.
She made no demur when Duncan led her to his horse, but waited patiently for him to mount the beast, then allowed herself to be lifted before him. She was extremely grateful when he immediately urged his animal to the side of the cart, though, and squeezed his arm to let him know that as they started for the keep.
The hour-long ride out to the clearing became a two-hour trip back as they moved at a crawl to avoid unduly jostling Lady Wildwood. When they finally arrived, Duncan again lifted her mother into his arms. He carried her into the keep and upstairs to their bedchamber, waiting patiently as Iliana and the other two women quickly ripped the soiled linens from the bed, replacing them with fresh ones. Once the chore was finished, Duncan set Lady Wildwood gently down, then quickly found himself nudged away from the bed and ordered from his own chamber as the women set to work.
"I be thinkin ye might want to build those extra rooms ye've been planning fer so long."
Duncan glanced at his father in surprise as they descended the stairs to the great hall. "I thought to leave it 'til I got a bit further along on rebuilding the outer wall. 'Tis no sense in the whole place being in an uproar."
"Hmmm. Well...I be thinkin' ye'll be changing yer mind on that soon enough."
When his father said no more, Duncan's frown deepened. "Why would ye be thinkin' that?"
"Well, now, it seems to me, what with Iliana's mother so ill, the lass will insist on her stayin' in yer room. And no doubt she'll insist on sleepin' on the floor in there, so she can keep an eye on her mother."
Duncan came to a halt as the ramifications of the situation hit him. His father was right; Lady Wildwood was now firmly ensconced in his chamber and would be for some time. Which left him without a bed. He would have to sack out on the great hall floor. That did not bother him. He had done it before. But he very much feared his father was also right about Iliana wishing to be near her mother for a while at least. And even once she agreed to leave her mother's side and joined him in the great hall, 'twould be nothing but torture for him. With only the three chambers, the servants were forced to sleep on pallets on the great hall floor. Duncan had no doubt his wife would refuse to even consider letting him love her with the servants so close at hand. Good God, he had just managed to consummate his marriage and already he was being denied again. Impossible!
"Aye." Angus slapped him on the back good-naturedly. "It seems God himself has seen to it that wee Iliana gets the rest she is so sore in need of."
"I'll build a room," Duncan decided grimly. "Tomorrow."
"Ye'd best make it two or three, boy," Angus murmured, enjoying himself.
"Two or three?"
"Aye, well, 'tis thinkin' ahead I'm doing. It seems to me that Lord Rolfe and the bishop will be returning soon with that Sherwell bastard. We can hardly make the bishop sleep on the floor. I gave him my bed last time because it was yer wedding night. I won't be doing it this time.... And then there are the bairns."
"Bairns?"
"Aye. Well, ye've been working at it pretty hard, 'tis sure I am there'll be a babe or two to show fer it soon enough, and as I recall, there was only the one room when yer mother and I married and when ye were first born, ye slept in there with us. 'Twas most inconvenient. Yer mother wouldna tend to me wishes fer worry of yer waking." Irritation tugged at the old man's face as he peered at Duncan, as if even now he blamed him for those lost nights. "Aye, 'tis best to be prepared fer such things. Build on two more rooms, boy. Trust me, ye'll not be sorry."
It was a mixture of shouting and banging that awoke Iliana. Frowning as the cacophony of sound filled her ears and drew her relentlessly from the deep sleep she had finally dropped into, Iliana slowly forced her eyes open and grimaced at the light that flooded into them.
It was daylight.
That was not at all surprising. The sun had been peeking up over the horizon, painting the room in a grayish orange glow before she had finally allowed Ebba and Gertie to persuade her to leave her vigil at her mother's side and seek some rest on the small straw-stuffed mat they had had placed in the corner of the room for her. She had only agreed then because she had twice caught herself dozing off where she had sat on the side of the bed, and had feared she would doze off, fall forward, and add more damage to her poor mother.
A virulent string of curses sounded from the hallway and Iliana forced her eyes open once more, realizing only then that they had somehow closed again. Frowning at the pain the bright light seemed to send stabbing into her head, she glanced toward the bed to see that Gertie had dozed off in the chair at the side of the bed. Ebba was absent.
Pushing herself slowly to a sitting position, Iliana peered at the woman asleep in the bed. Her mother seemed undisturbed by the racket. She was still sleeping peacefully. That merely made Iliana more worried. Such a deep sleep was not a good sign, was it?
A second string of curses drew her eyes toward the door once more. Her mouth set with displeasure at such a racket occurring outside a sick room. Shoving away the blanket she had drawn over herself when she had laid down, Iliana got stiffly to her feet. Wincing at the pain that immediately shot from the base of her spine, she paused a bare second to stretch. Then she moved toward the door, ready to give someone an earful.
The sight that met Iliana's eyes, however, when she stepped out into the hall stole the angry words that had been bubbling up inside her head. All she could do at first was gape at the small army of men milling about. It looked as if every single man who had been working on the wall and moat had been reassigned and crammed into this small hallway and was working industriously, and noisily, away.
Iliana gaped at them briefly, then, spying her husband at the end of the hall, she set her mouth and strode purposefully toward him.
Duncan was removing another post from the railing that guarded the end of the upper floor when a tap on his shoulder made him stop what he was doing to look around. The sight of his wee bride brought an instinctive smile to his face that faded once he took in her expression. She was smiling, but by the saints, it was one of the coldest smiles he had ever looked upon.
"Husband, what is about?"
Noting that her honey-sweet voice was in definite contrast to her frigid smile, Duncan considered her briefly before admitting, "I thought to extend the upper floor."
"Extend the upper floor?" she asked.
"Aye, well, we'll be havin' a bairn or two soon enough, and I thought that an extra two or three rooms would not go amiss."
Her eyebrows rose at that. "Two or three rooms?"
He shifted uncomfortably. "I thought a room fer yer mother would be nice so she might visit as long as she liked. And then, one can never have too many guest rooms."
"A room for my mother?" Her eyebrows rose slightly at the thoughtfulness of the gesture, then dropped just as abruptly in displeasure. "So you do recall that my poor, battered, ailing mother is lying just beyond that door, trying to get some much-needed rest while you and all of your men are out here making the devil's own racket!"
The hallway fell into dead silence around them, all eyes turning with some surprise to Duncan and Iliana. But Duncan was oblivious to that. His gaze was fastened on his wife as she roared, drinking in her heaving chest, the glorious color of fury in her flushed cheeks, and the fire in her eyes. Lord almighty, he could recall th
is same flush of passion about her on the afternoon before, but then it had been from desire. He could also recall her softness afterward, the dreamy look she had worn as she lay pressed against him, her body warm and sated. Feeling his own body responding to those memories, he muttered suddenly and caught one of her clenched hands in his own, then headed abruptly for the end of the hall.
"What are you doing?" Iliana snapped, trying to tug her hand free.
"Ye are obviously overset, wife. I would take ye somewhere where we can discuss this in private so that yer screamin' doesn't awaken yer poor ailin' mother. To work, men!" he ordered as he moved.
"My screaming?" She gaped at the back of his head as he dragged her along, her ears ringing as the men set back to work, and pounding and sawing filled the air around them. Tugging free, she propped both hands on her hips and glared at him as he paused and turned toward her. "Do you not see that that is why I am out here? All this racket is sure to wake my mother. She needs her rest, Duncan. I--"
"Aye. Yer right. She does. And so she'll have it. Work as quietly as ye can, men. No shoutin' or the like," he instructed, then grabbed up her hand and started out again. This time he got as far as the stairs and halfway down them before Iliana managed to free her hand again. "Duncan! They cannot be pounding and hammering in the hallway while my mother tries to rest. She will wake--"
"Nay, my lady."
Ebba's voice drew both Iliana's and Duncan's eyes to the bottom of the stairs where the other woman now stood looking up at them.
"Gertie gave Lady Wildwood a tincture. A war could not awaken her."
"There ye are, then. See?" Duncan smiled at her widely. "Come. We should discuss this." Sweeping her up in his arms, he hurried down the stairs with her, unwilling to give her the opportunity to free herself again.
Taken by surprise, Iliana could do little but grab at his shoulders nervously as he started out of the keep.
"Husband," she said at last as he hurried toward the stables. "Husband?"
"Aye, sweetling?"
"What are you doing?"
"I told ye, I'm takin' ye somewhere where we can talk without disturbin' yer mo--Oh, damn!" He stiffened suddenly, then broke into a jog, jostling Iliana wildly in his arms as he nearly ran the last few feet to the stables.
Glancing sharply around, she tried to spy the source of her husband's agitation. But all she saw was Lord Angus hurrying toward them; then they were inside the stable. "What--" Iliana began, but paused as he shouted to the stablemaster.
Duncan had barely finished the order for his horse to be brought when the stablemaster was leading it to stand before them. Her husband set her down long enough to mount the beast, unsaddled as it was, then reached down to pull her up before him. As soon as he had her situated, he sent it charging out of the stables, right past his father.
"Duncan!"
Iliana caught a glimpse of her father-in-law's tight-lipped face as they flew past him; then he was out of sight beyond Duncan's shoulder. Clutching those shoulders, Iliana held on for dear life as they rode out of the bailey.
"He seemed angry at you," she murmured as the woods closed around them.
"Who? Father?"
"Aye."
"Hmm. Well, and most like he is."
Iliana frowned slightly when he did not explain, but merely asked, "Where are we going?"
"To a clearin' I ken. Yer screams'll not be heard there."
Iliana rolled her eyes with tired exasperation. "There is no need for it. I am no longer yelling."
"Nay, ye aren't are ye?" He grinned at her slightly, then kissed the tip of her nose before murmuring, "I shall have to see to that first thing."
Iliana frowned at him with confusion at that. "See to what, husband?"
"To teachin' ye to scream," was his confusing response.
Chapter Thirteen
They rode a good distance before Duncan began to slow. Despite the jarring ride and her own curiosity, Iliana had nearly dozed off when they finally broke from the trees into a clearing. It was the horse being drawn to an abrupt halt that caught her drifting attention and made her gaze sleepily around as Duncan slipped from the animal. She was yawning indelicately as she took in the beauty of the spot when she felt his hands at her waist. He plucked her from the horse, allowing her body to slide down his until their faces were on a level. Iliana immediately tried to cut off the yawn that had her mouth wide open, but was too slow. Her husband, taking advantage of this sign of exhaustion, covered her mouth with his own, his tongue sliding past her lips, and delving inside.
Weariness dropping away, Iliana quickly joined in the mating of their mouths, only to moan with disappointment when he drew his lips away.
"Da is mad at me because he kens why I brought ye here."
Iliana opened her eyes slowly at his amused words, confusion plain on her face.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"To make ye scream. With pleasure."
She blinked at that announcement, her weary mind slow to grasp his meaning until his hands rose from her waist to cup her breasts.
"I've a mind to taste me wife's passion again," he murmured, squeezing the round orbs he held before running his thumbs over the suddenly erect nipples that were pressing against the restraining material of her clothing.
Iliana stared down at the hands gently kneading her and swallowed. "Here, my lord? Out in the open?" she asked thickly.
"Here," he agreed.
"But what if someone should come along and--"
"But nothing," he murmured, pausing to kiss her again when she raised her head. Releasing her lips a moment later, he brushed his mouth along her cheek to her ear. "Nothing on God's green earth could stop me from--"
When he stiffened suddenly, Iliana went still as well, then gasped in surprise when he suddenly dropped one hand to cup her womanhood through her gown.
The ungiving hardness of thick leather and its metal lock that had met his touch repeatedly until the day before were blessedly absent and Duncan relaxed, a wry smile curving his lips as he admitted, "Well, almost nothing."
Iliana did not get a chance to comment before he had captured her lips again in a kiss that sent her head spinning. When his lips finally left hers several moments later and her head cleared slightly, she found that they were now several feet from the middle of the clearing where they had been just moments before. Much to her surprise, they were now at the edge. Duncan had moved her to lean against a tree. She could feel the rough bark pressing into her back. Oddly enough, she could also feel cool air hitting her body seemingly everywhere.
Glancing down as her husband kissed a trail down her neck toward her chest, she was shocked to see the reason she suddenly felt so cool. Her gown was torn and now gaped wide open to her belly, leaving her breasts covered only with small goose bumps. Added to that, her left leg was bare, raised, and half-hooked about his hip, held in place by one of his hands, which slid up the back of her leg toward her bottom, pushing her gown before it.
Iliana opened her mouth in shock at her own wanton display. But all that came out was a gasp of pleasure as she shuddered under the caress of Duncan's hot mouth, finding and closing over one chilled erect nipple.
Catching his head between her hands, she licked her lips and swallowed as she watched him suckle at her breast, finding the image amazingly erotic. Then she felt his free hand slide down between their bodies and she clenched her fingers in his hair, her head tipping back against the tree, a wild moan slipping from her lips as he opened the folds of her womanhood and found the bud of her pleasure.
"Husband!" she gasped with pleading as the feelings she had begun to explore the day before built within her.
Grunting, Duncan left off caressing her to grab her other leg and draw it around his hips. With her skirt now bunched up around her waist, he pressed her back into the tree and took a moment to shift his plaid out of the way. Then he was sliding into her.
Iliana shuddered and moaned as her body expanded to a
ccommodate him, then moaned again as he drew himself out. Clasping her by the buttocks, he dropped his lips to cover hers as he continued to love her.
Iliana could feel the bark pressing into her back, could feel the soft material of his linen shirt against one naked breast and the rougher material of the tartan that sat over his shoulder against the other. But mostly she could feel him inside and around her as he drove her to the edge of insanity, then finally gave her the release that waited there.
"You were right to bring me here."
Duncan stiffened at those softly panted words by his ear. Letting her legs slip back to the ground, he lifted his head from her shoulder, where he had dropped it after finding his own fulfillment.
Seeing the soft, sated look in her eyes and face, he smiled to himself with satisfaction at the compliment he imagined she gave him, only to pause when she added, "Surely the whole castle would have heard your screams were we not so far away."
Catching the teasing light in her eyes, Duncan's face split in a grin. He had indeed screamed as he had spilled his seed inside her. He had howled like a wolf on a cold winter night. He'd probably scared away all the game for miles. "As I recall, 'twas ye who were supposed to scream," he murmured, sliding his hands up and down her arms.
"That would not be ladylike," she demurred coyly, and Duncan's grin widened further before he lifted her in his arms and moved to a less rocky patch of grass to lay her there.
"I've a mind to see me lady unladylike," he murmured, sprawling out beside her and moving his hand across the sweet flesh revealed by her gaping gown.
"You tore my gown." It was more an observation than an accusation.
"I was eager. Ye did not seem to mind at the time."
"I did not even notice at the time," Iliana admitted wryly.
His eyes filled with interest at that admission, then brightened. "So! I drove ye to distraction?"
"Aye, husband," she admitted gently, deciding he deserved to preen a bit.
"But ye didn't scream," he pointed out, his hand sliding across her belly and lower. "And ye will scream ere we leave here, sweetling. Ye'll scream with pleasure ere we leave here, and that's a solemn oath."
