Chapter Two
Like a pig destined for slaughter, she had been washed and seasoned and dressed. And all at the explicit orders of her husband. She had not, however, been fatted yet, for his orders were for the bedding to occur before the meal. In shock over hearing of the agreement between her father and the Bruce for her settlements and the disposition of the castle and the wealth she inherited from her mother, she’d listened to the rest of it with little interest.
Now, she stood staring into the fire in her chamber’s brazier, trying not to think about what would happen next. Oh, she knew about coupling with a man. Nothing much that happened between men and women was secret in clan life. But to have to do that with a complete stranger, a man who had barged into her life and who held in his grasp not only her life, but also the lives of her family and people, was difficult to contemplate.
But, it was out of her hands now. He held all the power. Whatever he ordered was done, either by those men who accompanied him here, or by her people, who had been told of his orders and his marriage to their laird’s daughter. Part of her, deep inside, would remain quiet and wait for a better time to fight back. And fight back she would.
The Bruce might hold Dunstaffnage for now, but there were ways to make certain that his possession was a temporary thing. Allies of her father were no doubt already planning how to recapture the castle and to free him. As the wife of the Bruce’s man here, she could get access to information that might help the fight against him and hasten the MacDougall’s return to his center of power.
“You look quite formidable when you frown like that, lady.”
His voice was deep and rich and it caused waves of unease to pass through her. Did her guilt show on her face? Clearing her thoughts, she turned to face her stranger husband.
Gone was the bloodied warrior she’d exchanged vows with in the chapel but an hour before. In his place was a handsome nobleman with his long brown hair pulled back from his face. Clothed in a long dressing robe as he was, she could see the long gash on his neck, now cleaned and sewn. Lara had noted his height when he had taken hold of her, so that was no surprise, but his piercing green eyes and strong chin and even smile were.
She looked up and realized that she had been gawking…and he had noticed. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her sweaty palms over her own robe.
“Although your maid said you preferred ale, I brought this wine to share with you. ‘Tis a gift from the Bruce to honor our marriage.”
The man walked toward her, carrying two goblets. Lara’s first instinct was to knock the cups from his hands, for drinking the Bruce’s wine would be an insult to those in her clan who had died this day. From the firm set of his chin, she knew that Sebastien would not tolerate that behavior from her. He had promised retribution against those she loved if she did not do as he told her, and she believed that he would seek it.
“I admire self-control.” He made a mock salute after handing her one of the goblets.
“I do not know what you mean, sir.” She lowered her gaze to the cup she now held.
“You wished to knock the wine from my hands at the mention of the Bruce. I am pleased that you exercised control over that wayward plan.”
“Am I so easy to discern?”
“Nay, lady. But as one who struggles with the same weakness, I recognize it quickly in others.” He stepped closer and guided her cup to her lips. “Try the wine before condemning it for its giver.”
Lara sniffed at the goblet, wondering if he had drugged it with some herb to make her more compliant for what he planned.
“Does the wine smell turned?” He sniffed at his own and frowned, then sipped it. “What think you wrong with it?” He gazed into her eyes, and then he nodded as he seem to read her thoughts once more. “You think I have drugged yours? To what purpose?”
Sebastien stepped back and took her wine. He drank deeply from it and then handed it back to her.
“If I want you dead or intend to strike at you, wife, you will see it coming. I do not hide behind the cowardly art of poison. You will know if…when you are my target.”
He turned from her and walked to the window in her chamber. Leaning an elbow on the frame, he stared out at the gathering dusk and drank the rest of his wine. Lara knew he was angry now. She saw it in his stance and in the way that the muscles of his neck tightened as he gritted his teeth.
“Sir, I meant no insult.”
He laughed and looked at her. “You think I would drug you into submission, and then say you insult me not?” His laugh turned sarcastic. “Lady, your barbs are like weapons and you wield them with amazing accuracy.”
Their gazes held this time and he moved closer to her. She knew that her actions determined his treatment of so many of her people. She could live through whatever he planned for her. She was a MacDougall and would not shirk from what needed to be done. If lying with this man was the price for her life and those of her siblings and father, she could do it.
Lifting her goblet to her mouth, she tilted it and drank the contents in one long swallow. Drops of wine collected on her lips when she lowered the cup, and she thought to lick them off, but his mouth was there first. Warm and firm, he pressed his lips to hers. As she felt the tip of his tongue slide over her mouth, and a heated pulsing begin to move through her, she pulled away.
“I know my duty, sir. I do not need your wine to ease my way in this.” If he did not like subterfuge, he would get none from her in this matter. The quicker done the better; once bedded and their vows sealed, she would finally see her brother and sister…if he kept his word. “I will not fight you.”
Lara handed him back the goblet and walked to the side of her bed. At first, she thought to climb on top. But, if they lay on the thick woolen covers, the sign needed to prove consummation would not be apparent. So she tugged the blankets out of the way and climbed on the fine linen sheets that covered her bed. Careful to gather her robe about her, she lay down and closed her eyes.
And she waited.
No sound filled the chamber except the crackling of the wood in the brazier. She was certain he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Still, he made no move or any sounds. Lara felt the tension grow inside of her. It was difficult to breathe and her skin tingled as the coolness of the room penetrated the thin material of the dressing gown she wore. She longed to pull the thick layer of blankets over her, but she did not.
And still she waited.
She was beautiful and intelligent and proud. She was loyal to her people and she was a skilled tactician in her own right. And she was his now.
And she was terrified.
Oh, his wife would never admit to it, but he could read that in her gaze and in her stance when he entered the room. It was obvious to him until she gathered her self-control and banished the fleeting glimpse of terror within those deep blue eyes. Then, to his surprise, she climbed onto the bed and placed herself like the sacrifice she was on the pristine white sheets. Although what he must do would embarrass her, he would rather not have to humiliate her before her people and the Bruce’s men.
He liked the challenges that she presented to him at every step of the way. Sebastien could not let them go unmet, but he learned more about her and the way her mind worked every time she resisted him and his orders.
Sebastien walked the few steps to the bed and gazed down at Lara. Her form was certainly pleasing to him. The dressing gown hid little from his eyes, and her position offered an enticing view of her lush breasts and shapely legs. Her blond hair spilled around her like waves, on the pillows and the bedcovers, tempting him to feel it and smell it. Bedding her would be no hardship to him. Catching a glimpse out the window at the sun as it moved toward the sea, he knew he had little time to dawdle at the task.
Sebastien untied his robe and let it drop to the floor. He sat next to her on the bed, forcing her to move.
“Sir, you may use the other side,” she squeaked as she looked through lowered lashes at him. “You are n
aked!”
“I will take the side nearest the door, Lara. Move now.”
He did laugh as she scrambled across the bed and positioned herself as far away from him as possible, all without looking directly at him. He granted her the reprieve of pulling up a sheet to cover them, and then he reached over and grabbed her hand.
“Now, wife, come closer.”
He slowly pulled her nearer to him until she lay next to him, her soft robe touching his leg. Sebastien reached down and untied the belt holding it together and tugged it free. She began to struggle as she realized his intent, but he paused.
“I intend no ravishment this evening, Lara. If you follow my lead, you may find the joy that exists in the joining of a man and a woman.”
“I have no choice in this, sir. You are stronger than I and can force your will on me whenever you choose to. You hold my family as prisoners and use my actions to decide their fates. And you say this is not taking me against my will?”
Her voice shook as she spoke the words. She was correct—she had no choice. But then, neither did he. He had never forced himself on any woman, and doing it now would surely make her his enemy. But, more important to him at this moment, he had never disobeyed an order from the Bruce. Preserving her dignity was one thing, but his orders were not for discussion.
“If you let me begin, I will give you as much choice in this as I can.”
She leaned away and looked at him, suspicion in every part of her expression and emanating from the depths of her ice-blue eyes.
“Then I choose to go down to dinner now.”
Sebastien laughed and pulled her into his arms. He tucked her head under his chin and held her still. “There will be time for eating when we finish here.”
When she lifted her head to reply, he stopped her with a kiss. Sebastien slid his hands down to her hips and pulled her against him, allowing her to feel the reaction of his body to her nearness. He tasted her surprise, but continued to caress her back and bottom even as he deepened the kiss. With smooth movements, he spread her long hair out over them. Then he slipped her robe off her shoulders and pushed it away.
The shock of her heated skin against his made him harden even more. He knew that she felt him and his readiness and knew it for what it was. He slid his hands up and held her mouth on his, moving his tongue over her lips and then inside, touching the tip of hers. He imitated what the other part of his body would do soon, and was pleased at the sound of her breathlessness.
She had made no move of her own, so he guided her arms around his neck. Her breasts now pressed against his chest and her hips cradled his erection. He paused to let her become familiar with the feeling of body touching body. His skin was on fire and the need to touch her more intimately grew until he could no longer resist it.
Sebastien turned them over until she was on her back, and he stroked her face and then her neck. Lara tensed as his hands moved lower. Her breasts tingled and ached as his fingers glided over her skin, moving ever downward from her neck to her breasts and stomach and lower still.
She really wanted to push him off and make him stop, but part of her was enticed by his touch. And that part of her shamed the rest of her for her compliance in her own seduction. He lifted her chin until their gazes met, and then he stared with a frightening intensity at her as his touch became more and more insistent. When his hand reached the curls at the juncture of her thighs, her body reacted on its own, tightening and arching against his hand.
Heat and wetness poured from the aching place between her legs, but she wanted to beg him to remove his hand. As though he sensed her doubts, he leaned over her once more and kissed her until she nearly forgot the truth between them. She was the Maid of Lorne, eldest daughter of the MacDougall. She had duties to her clan and this seducer could not sway her from them.
Her resistance lasted but a moment, until his fingers slid into the place that ached for his touch. Her legs opened to him and he used his hand to tease and ready her for more. Throbbing waves pulsed throughout her body until she thought she might burst. The groan that escaped her seemed to encourage him, for he knelt between her thighs and used his mouth and hands to ensorcell her more.
When his mouth covered the taut tip of her breast, even as his hand moved inside her to touch someplace unknown to her, she did moan. He suckled on her harder and rubbed the engorged fullness between her legs faster until she did begin to scream. Covering her mouth with his and capturing her sounds, he placed himself over the throbbing place and pushed his hardness into her. A moment of stretching was followed by one of stinging and then she was simply filled with him.
He stopped and she forced her eyes to open and look at him. Sweat covered his brow and his upper lip and she could feel the moist weeping where he lay between her thighs.
“Wife,” he whispered as he began to move again, pushing in to stretch her with his fullness, and then withdrawing. Some new tension built within her; the need to arch against him and to scream out his name increased with every one of his thrusts. Lara fought not to surrender, but her body betrayed her. Under his expert control, he drew her moans and took her to the height of excitement. She felt him grow larger and harder and then, as his body tensed over her, she lost any ability to think at all. She could only feel—feel him filling her, feel herself thrumming with pleasure, feel her loss of control as she reached for what he offered. Matching his groan, she let go and followed where he led. He filled her with his seed and then they collapsed together, out of breath and covered in the sweat and smell of passion.
Minutes passed and neither spoke as their breathing returned to what it should be. Unsure now of what to do or say, Lara simply waited for him to move off her. It was the knock on her door that spurred him into action.
“Sebastien, ’tis time.” A man’s deep voice carried through the door to them.
Sebastien said nothing in response, but he rolled away from her and stood next to the bed. He tugged the ends of the top sheet from under the thick mattress and wiped himself off on it. Lara felt the heat of a blush in her cheeks at the sight of her blood on his member, but his next action completely surprised her.
He eased her legs apart and cleaned up the maiden’s blood and spent seed from between her thighs. He would not meet her gaze. Mayhap he was sparing her embarrassment of such a task? Once he finished wiping her, he held out her robe to her and helped her from the bed. Pulling his own robe back on, he tugged on the sheet until it came free, and carried it to the door of her chamber. She watched in horror as he opened the door halfway and handed the bloodied sheet to the man outside.
“Show this downstairs to those who must see it and then take it immediately to the Bruce. Tell him it is the Maid of Lorne’s blood, shed by me as he ordered.”
Shock and humiliation filled her even as she still felt the remnants of pleasure’s grip. She had not mattered to him. Even as he worked her body for the desired response, he had not been thinking of her, but of his king and his orders. As she betrayed her clan with her surrender to passion in his arms, he had used her to complete a mission from his king.
The gentleness he had shown her was simply a means to an end, and she had been beguiled by his soft words and touches. Pulling herself to stand, she wrapped her robe around her and picked up the belt from the ground where it lay. He stood near the door watching her, but he refused to meet her gaze. Finally, his words broke the silence.
“I will wait dinner for you in the hall. Get dressed and join me there.”
Then he was gone and the sound of the door closing released her from her reverie. Even as she collapsed on the floor and sobbed for all that had been lost that day, she vowed to herself that she would not fail her people again.
Chapter Three
Not one to prevaricate once he’d made a decision, Sebastien surprised himself by standing outside the bedchamber door and wondering if he’d handled things well enough. Orders, especially from his king, were orders, in spite of the fact that many times
the Bruce allowed him to decide the method of implementation.
When innocents were involved, Sebastien preferred guile over bloodshed, seduction over force and negotiations over murder. When facing his enemies, there were no such alternatives. When dealing with women outside his bed, no rules or reason seemed to work.
Now, listening to the sobbing inside the chamber, Sebastien knew he would not be able to handle his wife in the same manner as he had handled everyone in his life before this day.
Leaning back against the cold stone wall, he remembered the moment of her surrender. In an instant he’d felt her resistance melt away and her stiff body soften under his hands and mouth. Knowing she was untried and nervous, he’d used his experience against her innocence, and bedded her without force. Consummating the marriage was no chore and had brought both of them pleasure, so why did it weigh on his mind so much now?
Shaking off this introspection, Sebastien nodded to the guard posted at the door and walked back toward the chamber that he was using on a temporary basis. A form separated from the shadows in the corner of the corridor and he tensed for a moment. Then he recognized the red-haired young woman as Lara’s maid.
“Sir,” she said, nodding her head in an unsuccessful attempt at obeisance. Anger flashed in her dark eyes as she met his gaze, and showed in the set of her chin. Anger?
“What is your name?” He stepped closer, forcing her to look up at him. He was a master at this game.
“Margaret,” she said. No “sir” this time.
Did she not realize the precarious position she was in? He held her life and the lives of everyone in this keep in his hands and could order her death at any moment. Then he noticed that her own hands, clasped tightly before her, trembled slightly. Good. She was worried.
“What do you want, Margaret?”
The Maid of Lorne Page 2
