by Lynsay Sands
Dwyn remained completely still at first as the voices faded away. She’d barely dared breathe once her sisters had appeared beneath them, but now that they were leaving, she realized she couldn’t move anyway. Her back was pressed tight to the chest of her savior, the arm around her waist like a band of steel under her breasts, holding her in place . . . And pushing her breasts up out of her top again, she realized with dismay. There was more than a little nipple now on display in the oversmall gown, although Dwyn didn’t think that had been the man’s intent. She didn’t even think he probably realized what was happening. Did he?
Dwyn turned her head and tipped it so that she could glance back at him. Much to her relief, his head was turned, his eyes pointed in the direction her sisters had taken as he waited to be sure they left. Just as she noted that though, he glanced down toward her and then froze, the arm around her waist tightening briefly and sending her breasts farther out of her gown until the nipples were almost completely on display.
They both remained still for a moment. Dwyn was blushing fiercely and struggling to find something to say to ease her embarrassment when he suddenly lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Dwyn stiffened in amazement as his mouth brushed over hers once, then twice. When he nipped at her lower lip, drawing on it and tugging gently, she opened for him. The moment her lips parted, he released the lower one and covered her mouth again with his. This time she felt his tongue slide out and Dwyn gasped with surprise as it snaked in to fill her mouth. That reaction melted away, replaced by a warm rush of excitement though, as his mouth slanted over hers, his tongue thrusting and exploring.
Dwyn found herself responding, or trying to. She hadn’t a clue what she was doing, and at first tried to keep her own tongue out of his way as her mouth moved under his, but he merely chased it. When his tongue rasped against her own, Dwyn moaned and stopped retreating to thrust back. Her hands came up to clasp his arm under her breasts, her nails digging into his skin as she kissed back with all that she was worth.
This time it was him who moaned, and for a moment the kiss became most demanding and hungry. It was as if he was trying to devour her, Dwyn thought faintly, and found she wasn’t at all alarmed at the prospect. Tearing one hand from his arm, she reached up to slide her fingers around his neck, her body straining and twisting in his hold to press closer, and then he suddenly broke the kiss and lifted his head.
For a moment he just stared down at her, his heated gaze sliding over her flushed face and then down over her exposed breasts. Dwyn followed his gaze, noting that the circles of dusky rose flesh had contracted and darkened around the small buds that had hardened and were now rising out of the center like flowers seeking the sun.
She’d just noted that when the man holding her abruptly shifted his hands, caught her by the waist and turned Dwyn to set her on her branch again. The moment her bottom landed on the hard wood, he grabbed the front of her gown and tugged it up to cover her properly. He didn’t let go of the cloth at once though, but froze, still holding the material, the backs of his fingers warm against her nipples, which were responding most oddly to the unintentional touch.
Panting breathlessly, Dwyn stared at his dark hands against her pale flesh. But then he groaned, drawing her gaze up to see that he’d closed his eyes and appeared to be in some distress.
“I— Are ye all right?” she asked shakily, her gaze shifting from his pained expression to his fingers still inside her top and back. “Did ye hurt yerself lifting me? I know I am heavy. Did ye—” She paused, her own eyes widening slightly when his suddenly flashed open. He was looking at her like she was sweet meat and he hadn’t eaten in days, Dwyn thought faintly, and then he abruptly removed his hands and was gone. She blinked at the empty branch in front of her, and then leaned forward and looked down in time to see him land lightly on his feet on the hard-packed ground. He snatched up a sack that lay against the trunk and walked away.
Dwyn watched until he was out of sight and then sat back with a shaky sigh. Well, wasn’t that . . . She shook her head slightly and reached up to press her fingers to her still-tingling lips. That had been . . .
“Oh, my,” Dwyn breathed. She’d just had her first kiss, and it had been quite wonderful. At least, she’d thought so. She didn’t think his walking off like that was a good sign though, and wondered what it meant. Perhaps she shouldn’t have let him kiss her. Not that she’d had much choice, she assured herself. It had been somewhat unexpected, and her precarious position in his lap—
Oh, give over, her mind argued at once. She hadn’t wanted to stop him, not once his tongue was in her mouth. Then she’d wanted him to continue to kiss her, and still did, she acknowledged with a grimace. Truly, she wished he was still there, holding her in his lap, his mouth moving on hers, his arms around her. But she wished he’d done more. She wasn’t sure what exactly, but . . . Her hands rose and closed over her breasts almost protectively. They had tingled and hardened as he’d kissed her, and were oddly sensitive now, the brush of her palms over them even through the material of her gown making them tingle all the more.
Lowering her hands quickly, Dwyn turned to peer out over the land beyond the wall and tried not to think about the odd sensations now swirling through her body. Or who the man might be. And whether he might repeat the experience should they encounter each other again while she was here.
Chapter 2
“Brother!”
Geordie nodded at that greeting from his eldest brother, Aulay, as he reached the high table, but then turned to lean over and press a kiss of greeting to his sister-in-law Jetta’s cheek.
“Geordie! We have been wondering where you got to,” Jetta cried as she leapt up from her seat to embrace him warmly. Pulling back to peer up at him, she added, “We were not expecting you until today, but the stable master said your horse was in its stall when he went out this morning.”
“Aye,” Aulay agreed, taking his wife’s place to hug Geordie next. Clapping him on the back, he asked, “Where did ye sleep last night?”
“The great hall was so crowded I knew we must have company, so I took meself out to the orchard,” Geordie answered, his gaze sliding to the guests at the table who were now eyeing him eagerly. All but two, he noted. The women he had first seen in the gardens chasing after Dwyn with their taunts were looking a bit dismayed and chagrined. He suspected they were recalling the sneers they’d cast his way on seeing him sleeping out there and now regretted it.
“A good thing,” Aulay said, regaining his attention. “I fear ye would have given the Innes lasses a scare had ye gone to yer own room.”
“Innes?” He glanced at his brother sharply. “Dwyn?”
Aulay’s eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded. “Aye. Dwyn, Una and Aileen. Their father, James, slept in his traveling tent in the bailey, but we gave the girls yer bed last night.”
Geordie hadn’t noticed any traveling tents set up in the bailey as he’d crossed it to the keep, but it had been late, and dark, and he’d been exhausted enough that he hadn’t really looked around much. That didn’t matter to him though. His attention had been caught by the knowledge that Dwyn had slept in his bed last night, her lovely hair spread out on his pillow, her body warmed by his linens and furs.
Realizing his own body was responding to the image in his mind, he shifted the bag he held in front of him to cover his growing groin. “I just came to let ye ken I was back. I’m heading to the loch now to clean up.”
“I’ll come with ye. We need to talk anyway,” Aulay announced, following on his heels when Geordie turned and started away.
“I’ll join ye too.”
Geordie glanced around at that eager cry, just catching the exasperation that flashed across Jetta’s face at being left to handle all their guests alone, before his gaze found his uncle Acair on his feet and hurrying after them with a speed that belied his age. Geordie’s gaze slid back to his sister-in-law with apology, but she smiled faintly and waved them off, then paused with sur
prise when Aulay suddenly turned and hurried back to kiss her. It was no quick peck, but a long, deep kiss that left his wee wife flushed and breathing heavily.
Geordie shook his head and continued walking, and Aulay caught up as they reached the keep doors. The three of them were silent as they crossed the bailey to the stables to fetch their horses. It wasn’t until they’d reached the loch and dismounted that Aulay finally spoke.
“I suppose ye noticed that most o’ our guests are female,” his brother started as they dismounted.
“Aye,” Geordie agreed as he tied his mount’s reins around a low-lying branch.
“How could he not notice?” Uncle Acair growled as he took care of his own mount. “We’ve got women crawling out of the woodwork just now. There’s no’ a room in the keep that a man can find a moment’s peace without giggling females following to ask questions.” Speaking in a high voice meant to imitate the women, he asked, “Which o’ the three brothers is most handsome, do ye think? Who is strongest? What kind o’ woman do ye think this one would like? Or that one? Do they have all their teeth? Which one is best at battle?” Shaking his head, he said in his own voice, “’Tis damned annoying.”
Finished with his horse, Geordie turned to his brother, one eyebrow raised.
Grimacing, Aulay avoided his gaze and muttered, “It appears you, Rory and Alick have become somewhat sought after.”
“Sought after?” Acair hooted with amusement. “They’re being hunted, the three of them.” Turning, he speared Geordie with a look and said, “I’d run like the devil if I were you, lad, else ye’ll find yerself run to ground and shackled to one o’ those lasses back there.”
“Uncle,” Aulay growled with irritation. He then turned a scowl Geordie’s way, and said, “Do no’ even think about running. I have been stuck with a keep full o’ females for several days now and want them gone. But they’re no’ going anywhere until you and yer brothers pick one each, or at least decide ye do no’ want any o’ them and make it known.”
Geordie grunted at that, and moved to the water’s edge. Once there, he quickly shed his plaid. He started to remove his shirt next, but paused and turned back to Aulay. “How the devil did they all end up at Buchanan?”
“Ah.” Aulay grimaced. “Well, ye remember when the lasses decided to have that visit a couple months back?”
Geordie nodded. It was hard to forget. Jetta had sweetly but determinedly told him, Aulay, Rory, Alick and Uncle Acair that they were not welcome and to make themselves scarce while their sister and their brothers’ wives, as well as Jo Sinclair and Annabel MacKay and her daughters, visited. Aulay had taken her at her word, put his second, Simon, in charge of the men and he, Geordie, Uncle Acair, Rory and Alick had all left for the hunting lodge. They’d soon been joined by the rest of the brothers as well as MacDonnell, Sinclair and MacKay, who had escorted their wives to Buchanan, only to be sweetly kicked out by the women.
It had got damned crowded in the lodge, and they’d ended up talking, laughing and drinking the nights away, and then spending the better part of the days nursing hangovers. There had been little actual hunting in the end. But the alcohol had been needed to make the floor seem less uncomfortable at night, and it had been a good time in the end.
“Well,” Aulay said now, “it seems they got talking about the three o’ ye—you and Rory and Alick—and fretting about how they wished the three o’ ye were settled and happily married too. They apparently came up with the idea that they should help ye with that.”
“Good Christ,” Geordie breathed.
“Aye,” Acair agreed grimly.
“So?” Geordie asked when Aulay didn’t continue. “What did they do? How the hell did we end up with a castle full o’ women?”
“Apparently, they made a list o’ all the women they knew who had lost their betrothed and were available. They then whittled the list down to all those who were the eldest child without a brother to inherit land or title, and finally they wrote letters to their fathers, pointing out the advantages of the daughter marrying a Buchanan.”
“Advantages?” Geordie asked with amusement. “I do no’ have a pot to piss in. What advantage is that?”
Aulay scowled at his comments. “Ma and Da left ye coin and a bit o’ land just like they did our siblings. Ye ken it’s waiting fer ye the minute ye ask fer it.”
“Aye, but a bit o’ coin and land is no’ a home to bring a wife to,” Geordie pointed out with exasperation.
“That’s the beauty o’ it,” Aulay said with a grin. “When they got the responses from the interested lairds, they then wrote back and gave terms. Only the lairds who were willing to make one o’ ye their heir and name ye the next laird were invited to bring their daughters fer ye to meet.”
“And the fathers of all those women in the keep were willing?” he asked with disbelief.
“Geordie, we are Buchanans, a strong and proud clan, but now add that Niels and Edith are laird and lady o’er the Drummonds, Saidh and her Greer are laird and lady o’ MacDonnell, Conran and Evina are laird and lady o’ the Macleans, and Dougall and his Murine are not only laird and lady o’ Carmichael here in Scotland, but also Danvries in England . . .” He paused briefly to let that sink in and then added, “And that does no’ even include the Sinclairs and the MacKays, who are friends to us all, or Evina’s cousin, Gavin, who is like a brother and son to her all at once and is now laird of the MacLeods. Any one o’ them would certainly call up their men to help if any o’ us needed aid.” He pointed out, “Not only do we now hold considerable influence, we would have no less than eight strong and wealthy clans at our back if under attack.”
“Aye,” Acair said now. “Many would like to join our circle and enjoy that kind of safety. Especially men who were no’ gifted with male heirs and seek to protect their daughters and lands from greedy neighbors who might like to take either or both by force.”
Geordie shook his head. When put like that he could see why the fathers were interested in arranging a marriage. Still . . . “Ye canno’ mean to tell me that the women did all this writing back and forth in that one weekend?”
“Nay. They sent the first messages that weekend, and then Jetta wrote the other women every time she got a response and they wrote back with suggestions about what to do next, and so on.” He raised his eyebrows. “Have ye no’ noticed I’ve had to send one o’ me men out almost every damned day for the last couple o’ months with messages from Jetta to the various women?”
Geordie had noticed that before he left, but had just thought it nice that Jetta was getting along so well with all of the women. Sighing, he shook his head. “I’d like to say it was kind o’ Jetta and the others to go to all this trouble . . .”
“But?” Aulay prodded when he paused.
“But I do no’ want to marry yet,” he said simply.
“Geordie, ye’re nine and twenty years old now,” Aulay pointed out.
“Aye, but I have been so busy helping everyone else . . . First we were rushing this way and that for Murine and Dougall, and then Edith and Niels, and then . . .” He grimaced. “And I’ve spent the last six weeks helping Evina get Gavin set up at MacLeod.”
“How did that go, by the by?” Aulay asked now.
“Good,” Geordie assured him. “The uncle ran the place into the ground with his gambling and such, so the people were more than glad to welcome Gavin as their proper laird. I think the thyftbote Evina’s father had taken for Gavin in exchange for his silence on what Garret MacLeod did to Lady MacLeod helped. It should go a long way toward repairing the damage the uncle did. And Evina and Conran are going to help young Gavin find his feet as laird.”
Aulay nodded, and then placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed until Geordie met his gaze. “I ken ye’ve spent a lot of time the last several years helping the family, and I’m sure ye probably feel ye’ve lost out on some time to sow yer wild oats. I’m no’ insisting ye marry right away. But it’ll no’ hurt to take a gander at the women
and see if any o’ them interest ye. Ye could always agree to a contract stipulating the wedding does no’ take place for six months, or even a year from now, so ye have some time to sow those oats,” he said, and then pointed out, “This is a golden opportunity fer ye, Geordie. Do ye choose any one o’ the women at Buchanan just now, ye’d no’ just be gaining a wife, but a keep and people o’ yer own.”
“Aye,” Geordie murmured, and then frowned and asked, “How far away is Innes?”
Aulay’s eyebrows rose with surprise, but he answered, “About as far away as MacDonnell, but ’tis northeast rather than straight north.”
Geordie nodded thoughtfully.
“I did no’ ken ye knew the Inneses,” Aulay said after a moment.
“Oh, I do no’,” he said, tugging his shirt off now, and tossing it to lie on his plaid.
“But when I said the Innes lasses slept in yer room last night, ye mentioned Dwyn,” he pointed out with confusion.
“Nay. I do no’ ken her,” he assured him firmly.
“Ah, Dwyn,” Acair sighed from Geordie’s other side as he removed his own plaid. “Now there’s a good wee lass with a fine pair o’ bosoms to keep a man warm at night.”
Geordie scowled at his uncle, but his words had brought up those bosoms in his mind. Dear God, when he’d looked down after her sisters had left the area, and seen her beautiful breasts pushing out of her gown above his arm . . . He swallowed as he recalled the sight. His mouth filling now with saliva as it had then, and his tongue tingling at the thought of rasping over the sweet nubs of her dusky nipples and sucking them into his mouth. Geordie still wasn’t sure how he’d stopped himself from simply closing his hands over each full globe and kneading her sweet flesh. But he had.
Nothing could have stopped him from kissing her though, and damned if Dwyn hadn’t kissed him back. The lass had been awkward at first, obviously unskilled, but she’d learned quickly, and the soft mewls and moans of pleasure she’d given him from just kissing had nearly pushed him into doing much more. When Geordie had started thinking about how to get her out of that tree without having to stop their kissing, so that he could tear her gown away, lay her in the grass and drive himself into her welcoming heat, he’d known it was time to put an end to things and get the hell away from her. He’d done that so abruptly . . . He hadn’t even stayed to help her down from the tree, he realized with a frown.
