“It?” she asked, uncertain. The other night she had discreetly averted her eyes from this very male part of him. She wasn’t anxious to touch it.
“Oh, it is a bold and hungry creature.”
“You’re teasing me. I’ve heard it described as a stick. Sticks aren’t bold.”
He laughed with genuine amusement. “More a staff than a mere twig. Go along, Anne. See for yourself.”
She met his challenge, pushing his breeches down, and drew a sharp breath. “Oh dear.” It wasn’t what she’d expected…and yet it was more than she’d imagined.
“Touch me.”
“I don’t know.”
His hand took hers. “You liked it when I touched you?”
“Yes.”
“Then return the love, sweetheart. Feel me.” He placed her hand on him and she was taken aback at how soft and smooth he was. But hard, strong. She ran the back of her fingers along velvet skin and he almost purred with appreciation.
She lifted her gaze. “You like—?”
Aidan kissed her, pressing her back on the bed, suddenly very serious, very focused. He shoved the covers aside and leaned forward, pushing her to the mattress. The sheets were cool against her skin. He climbed on top of her, his lips not leaving hers, his skin rough and smooth against hers.
Her body understood better than her mind what the next step would be. Her legs opened to cradle him against her.
He kissed the line of her neck. His hands molded her to him. His whispered words of praise and encouragement that like an elixir robbed her of all will save his.
Anne forgot where she was or even who she was. The world ceased to exist beyond the bedroom doors, beyond the boundaries of the bed.
Aidan spoke. “I can’t wait any longer, Anne. I’ll try not to hurt you.”
He’d been moving his body against hers. But his next action was foreign, unanticipated. It stirred her from the languorous haze of desire. He entered her.
She stiffened. “Aidan?” Her hands gripped his shoulder.
“It will be all right, love.” He thrust deeper.
Anne felt a sharp pain, like the prick of a needle. It shocked her and she jerked, attempting to move away from him.
He held her in place. “Give it time, Anne. Let your body adjust to me.”
She met his gaze, wanting to trust him. “Does this mean the marriage is consummated?”
His lips curved into a smile. “Absolutely.”
“Then it is worth it.” She drew a steadying breath. “I think I’d like to get up now.”
“Get up—?” He pressed his head against her forehead and looked nose-to-nose in her eyes. “Anne, we haven’t even begun.”
“Do you mean there is more?”
He nodded. “More pleasure.”
She didn’t know if she believed him. This was such a strange position. Almost too intimate.
And then he started moving.
Holding herself still, she planned to wait it out until he was finished. But something happened. His movements sparked a responding sense of need. He pushed deeper and she felt the return of desire, only this time, it came with more force.
The ache became a distant memory. Her body moved to meet his. He was driving harder now, even as she reached to respond.
This was making love. Emotion guided her now. She strained to meet him, searching for a point inside her she didn’t understand. Aidan talked to her, kissing her and encouraging her to meet his every thrust.
Then, suddenly, she crossed a threshold she’d never known existed. One moment she was in the present, her body as tight as a bowstring; in the next she was flying.
Anne cried out, holding Aidan close. She couldn’t let go. She’d never let him go.
He buried himself deep inside her. Once, twice, a third time…and then she felt him release. His life force filled her, branding her, making her truly and completely his.
Anne fell back on the bed, drained. She closed her eyes, reveling in the weight of his body covering hers. “I didn’t know anything could be like that.”
“I didn’t either.”
The touch of amazement in his voice caught her attention. She opened her eyes. “Truly?”
“Yes, truly,” he echoed. He kissed her then, gentle, feather-light kisses on eyes and cheeks.
Cool air hit her skin. She’d been so involved in the heat of their own making, she had not noticed the chill in the room.
He rolled from her and pulled the heavy spread and sheets over them. His legs entwined with hers and she snuggled down next to him. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
She laughed. “I’ve never felt better.”
Visibly relieved, he said, “I got a bit carried away at the end.”
“I liked it.” She let her hand stray to his chest where she marveled at his hardness, his strength. “For the first time since my parents’ deaths,” she whispered, “I feel safe.”
His arms cradled her close. “I will do everything in my power to protect you.”
“This is enough,” she answered, and pressed a kiss against his collar bone before yawning. She relaxed into the bedclothes. “I could sleep for a week—”
A footstep outside the door was their only warning. The door was flung open even as Anne ducked further under the covers. For a second there was no sound, and then Aidan said coolly, “Was there something in particular you wanted, Lambert?”
Anne peeked from the shelter of the bedclothes and her husband’s body. Major Lambert’s eyebrows could not have risen any higher up his forehead. “The guard said he’d heard strange noises.”
Aidan smiled. “Not so strange, I would hope.”
Major Lambert struggled for understanding. “You’ve been making love?”
“How else did you expect us to pass the time?” Aidan said. “Wringing our hands with worry while you trump up charges by beating a man to death?”
“Have you no respect for my authority?” The major raised his voice, conscious as a very embarrassed Anne was that Lieutenant Fordyce and some of the other soldiers craned their necks to witness the confrontation between the two men.
But Aidan answered calmly, “I am well aware of how much authority you wield, Lambert. You have the power to destroy me whether I am innocent or guilty. But I am a recently married man.” His hand beneath the covers clasped Anne’s. “I have a pretty young wife who is being dragged into your schemes against her will and against all that is right and noble. If I choose to spend what may be my last hours loving her, then it is no business of yours.”
The major frowned. Anne sensed he wanted to throw Aidan’s words back at him—but there was nothing he could say. Especially in front of his men, whose sympathies obviously rested with her and Aidan. She could see it in their faces. They had wives and sweethearts. They must have known there was bad blood between Aidan and their commanding officer.
“Very well,” Major Lambert said at last. “While away the hours, my lord. Enjoy yourself.” He slammed the door shut.
“Touchy fellow, isn’t he?” Aidan said thoughtfully.
Anne sat up, holding the sheet in place over her breasts. She pushed her hair. “Is that what this was about? You wanted to make him angry?”
He turned, surprised. “I enjoy tweaking the fool’s nose, but this—” He placed an arm around her and drew her back down onto the mattress with him. “This has nothing to do with Lambert…” He kissed her neck. “Or anyone…” He kissed beneath her chin. “Or anything outside this room.” He kissed her lips.
She fell under his spell. It was as if she were a torch and he the spark. He rose up over her. “Can you do it again, Anne? Is it too soon? I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her answer was to open herself to him, offering what was only hers to give. As he settled himself on top of her, she pushed back his hair from his face and asked, “You do love me? Even a little?”
His eyes darkened. “I love you very much. Am I pleased with Alpin
a for her high-handedness? No. And yet, you have come into my life and changed it in ways I hadn’t thought possible. I was waiting for you, Anne. I didn’t know it—”
“And it took you a while to recognize the fact.”
He laughed, the sound vibrating through her. “Aye, Anne. But how can one ignore a tempest?” he asked. “But I know how to tame it.” He kissed her so thoroughly, so completely, she was his willing slave.
This time their pace was slower, more leisurely. They explored each other and Anne learned Aidan was a generous, considerate, sensual lover.
Now she understood the mysteries of love lauded by the poets. She discovered why a woman would forsake all for love.
There was nothing she wouldn’t do for Aidan. Nothing.
As afternoon faded into night, in a bedroom surrounded by English soldiers and facing an uncertain future, Anne became a prisoner of her own heart. When they weren’t making love, they talked about everything, and about nothing, making up for wasted time.
Occasionally, he would cross to the window or pace in front of it. His actions worried her, but she wasn’t going to ask any questions, fearing the answers.
At one point, he noticed the soldiers delivering a tray of food. He came back to the bed satisfied. “Lambert is listening to me. He’s working to keep Robbie alive.”
“He may be too late,” Anne said soberly.
Aidan shook his head. “The Gunn brothers are a tough and hardy lot. Robbie has had a beating, but he won’t die yet.” His lips twisted into a grim smile. “He’ll just look like he has.” With that, he let down the curtain, and with one wild leap, jumped into the bed beside her.
Major Lambert left them alone. There was a great deal of traffic outside their door, since the room was at the top of the stairs, but Anne ignored it. She didn’t even care that dinner had not been sent up to them. She closed her mind to everything but her husband.
Aidan seemed perfectly capable of both devoting himself to her and keeping an ear attuned to the activity around them. He was the one who noticed that Colonel Witherspoon, Lambert’s commanding officer, had arrived. He watched their movements around the cellar from his window vantage point.
“What do you think?” Anne asked.
“I don’t know.” He lifted a lock of her hair spread out on the pillow and curled it around his finger as he worked some problem in his mind.
“Aidan?”
Her voice brought him back to the present. He smiled and pulled her to him.
Later, as they lay tangled with each other and the sheets, she thought Aidan had fallen asleep. Lying with her back against his, she ran her hand over her flat stomach. An intuition as old as time told her his seed had taken root deep within her. She would have his child.
The mattress shifted. Aidan rose, moving in the dark to dress.
Anne came up on one arm, her hair hanging over her shoulder. “What are you doing?” she whispered.
He placed a finger to his lips, warning her to silence while he checked out the window. Satisfied, he crossed to the bed and started molding the bedcovers and feather pillows into a wall beside her.
She sat up. “Aidan—” His lips closed over her mouth.
“No questions, Anne,” he said, when at last he broke the kiss.
“Where will you be?”
“I’m going to save Robbie.”
“Aidan, you can’t.” She reached for him. “Please, stay here.”
He sat on the bed and put his arms around her. “I must try. Lambert will take me to London no matter what unless I can outwit him.”
Anne started to climb out of the bed. “I will go with you. I can help.”
“You are helping right here. You are the decoy. If someone should come in, pretend to be asleep. They will assume I am on your other side.” He came to his feet.
“Aidan—?”
He pressed his fingers to her lips. “Take care, Anne. Be brave.” With those words, he crossed to the window, opened it, and slipped out before she could protest.
Anne jumped from the bed, wrapped a sheet around her, and hurried to the window. The wind blew the curtains. She knelt to avoid being seen by any guards on the ground. But the only one she saw was a soldier guarding the cellar.
Meanwhile, in spite of his size, her husband moved quietly as a cat along the slippery shingled roof. Again clouds covered the full moon. He stayed close to the shadows and she didn’t think she would have noticed him if she had not known he was there.
Even as she worried, the guard appeared to look in the direction of her window. Anne pulled back quickly, ducking to avoid being seen.
Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited for the soldier to call an alarm; but no such warning came. When at last she dared to look out the window again, Aidan was gone. It was as if he’d disappeared into the night.
She closed the window.
The room seemed empty without his presence. Numbly she walked to the bed and lay down, pulling his pillow to her. It smelled of him.
She rested her hand on her belly and flattened her palm. She imagined a tiny pulse already beating there. A piece of the man she loved.
So she did the only thing she could do—she prayed.
Chapter 15
Aidan didn’t dare tell Anne the details of his plan. He wanted her completely innocent of what he was doing in case he was captured…and also, because it was almost too fantastic to work.
His practical wife would recognize immediately his foolishness and not believe it could succeed. He wasn’t certain, either.
Swinging down to a portico on the first floor, he allowed his body to hang over the edge a moment before releasing his hold. His feet hit the damp, spongy spring earth. His left ankle buckled, reminding him he was growing too old for such tricks.
He wished he could have stayed beside his warm, willing wife. Who could have imagined Anne was such a passionate creature? His reason to succeed this night was driven by his desire to return to her bed—forever.
Stepping back into the shadows, he glanced up at the window where he’d left her. She’d shut it. Good.
He ran along the line of the house, moving with the stealth of a hunter. One soldier guarded Robbie’s cellar, but Aidan knew Lambert had posted others.
Light came from the first floor dining room. People were seated at the table eating and drinking. Aidan knelt below the window casement and listened to Lambert entertain his superior officer, Colonel Witherspoon. From the sound of it, they’d had a good deal to drink, and Lambert was doing everything in his power to promote his suspicion of an impending Scottish rebellion. He mentioned Aidan’s name, pounding the table so hard the china and silver rattled. Aidan couldn’t catch Witherspoon’s low-voiced reply.
Fortunately, it appeared Lambert’s men did not share his vigilance. The two guards who were supposed to be walking the perimeters stood in the shadow of a tree, gossiping. As Aidan moved around the house and across the yard, he caught another asleep against the rustic stone barn.
Aidan skirted him and the outbuildings. Lambert’s dislike of dogs served Aidan’s purpose. There wasn’t one on the property to bark an alarm. He slipped unnoticed along the line of a thicket fence toward a copse of trees and walked off the manor estate without a cry being raised. His long legs ate the mile or so distance to Lybster. He had hunted in this area. He knew the backways and paths followed only by the locals. Lambert’s men did patrol a distance from the manor house, but they were watching for an armed force of men, not a lone walker taking the back ways.
Aidan prayed he could play upon Lambert’s faults. Within half an hour, he found himself on the grounds of the church at the crossroads where they’d stopped earlier in the day for the funeral procession.
It was the dead of the night. The good people of Lybster were sleeping soundly in their beds. Sheltered by dark, shadowy hemlocks, the cemetery lay on the opposite side of the church, away from the village, so the superstitious need not see the ghosties in spite of it being h
oly ground.
The hemlocks protected him from discovery while the same moon that had helped him smuggle in the gunpowder now let him find the freshly dug grave. He located a shovel and pick in an unlocked shed attached to the church. It took him approximately another hour to dig up the body.
He’d have to move faster.
Packy Gilbride, the man in the grave, had been a good-humored character known for his love of a prank. He also hated the English.
Aidan used the pick to lift the lid off the coffin. For a second, what he was about to do threatened to overwhelm him. He looked down at Packy Gilbride’s moon-shadowed outline. The man was peaceful in his repose without the lively skepticism that had marked his spirit when he was alive. “I’m sorry to disturb your peace, Gilbride, but I need you. Do you understand?”
A cloud passed the moon. In the changing shadows, Packy seemed to smile.
It was benediction enough. Aidan hoisted Gilbride’s body out of the grave and lifted him up on his shoulders. The body’s deadweight would not be hard to carry, not for a man as strong and desperate as Aidan.
A sheet wrapped around her toga style, Anne anxiously paced the length of the room taking care to avoid the window. It had been impossible for her to climb back into bed and pretend all was well.
She’d started to dress and then had changed her mind. If by some chance Major Lambert barged in, she could not be fully dressed—not after the man had caught her naked in bed with her husband.
Of course, if the major discovered her “husband” was nothing more than a mound of bedclothes, Anne didn’t know what she was going to say. She’d worry about it later.
The soldier guarding her door barely made a sound. She discovered why when she overheard soft snoring, which came to an abrupt halt as heavy boots clumped out into the downstairs hall.
Major Lambert had been right: sound did travel in the house. The conversation he and his guest were having flowed all the way up the stairs, waking her sentry and alerting her.
Quickly she hopped into bed, giving the door her back.
Lambert’s voice bounced off the walls. He slurred his words a bit, as if he’d been drinking. Her heart almost stopped when she heard him mention Tiebauld. Then the men walked outside.
The Marriage Contract Page 19
