by Mary Wine
“There’s still the nutmeg to be ground, and the cloves and cinnamon for the pies.”
Daphne picked up one of the nutmegs, taking a moment to marvel at it.
“Are ye mad?”
All three women jumped, startled by the head cook. He was a plump man, who clearly enjoyed tasting his work.
“Ye’re a simpleminded fool to let this harlot near the spices,” he scolded the servant. “She might already have stuffed some of those nutmegs down her bodice!”
“I am no thief,” Daphne insisted. “Ye have no reason to accuse me of such.”
The cook wasn’t accustomed to being challenged. His eyes bulged, and his cheeks turned ruby as he sputtered, trying to speak through his anger. “No one challenges me in me own kitchens! I am the head cook here, by order of his lairdship!”
He reached out and slapped her, the sound popping loudly throughout the stillroom. Daphne hadn’t even raised her hand to cover the stinging spot before Cam grabbed the cook and yanked him backward. Pandemonium erupted in the kitchen beyond the door of the stillroom. Maids screamed as plates and other things went crashing to the floor. Retainers from the great hall rushed in to investigate the cause of the commotion.
The cook stood his ground. “No one touches the laird’s food without me say so. Do ye think I allow just anyone near his supper? It’s me duty to make sure no one poisons him!” He reached out and delivered a slap to the woman Daphne had helped. “Ye should know better. That sugar costs more than gold and is meant for the laird himself. I judged ye more careful than to let a stranger near it. It will be both of us ended up hung if something befalls the laird through our carelessness.”
The woman’s eyes bulged as she rubbed her cheek. “I… I… I did nae think…”
“What is all of this?” the Earl of Sutherland demanded. His retainers cleared the space around him, making sure no one ventured too close.
The pudgy cook opened his mouth and bellowed, “Her!” He pointed at Daphne. “She was in the stillroom with her hands on the nutmeg and cinnamon! No doubt she has a few down her bodice to remedy her lack of dowry. She snuck in there, never asked me permission. Sure as the blessed Mother was virgin, she’s a scheming harlot. She did nae ask me permission… me laird…”
The rest of the kitchen staff cast her disapproving looks. Daphne could see them condemning her, and the retainers were no different. They shook their heads, disgust clear on their faces.
Daphne stepped forward. “I am no thief, and the fact that I came down to do an honest day’s work does nae make me a schemer.”
“Then what were ye doing in the stillroom with the sugar? It’s more expensive than gold. I am in charge of the kitchens. If it was honest work ye were seeking, why did ye nae ask me for a task?” the cook demanded. He puffed up his chest and pointed at her. “She needs to be stripped.”
“Hold.” Norris’s voice shook some of the pans hanging on the walls. “Touch her again, and I will have ye lashed.”
His hair was wet and his doublet open, indicating he’d come straight from the training yard. Gahan was at his back, his shirt collar dark with sweat.
“Well now…” the cook sputtered and drew his hand back toward his chest. “It’s me duty to account for the spices.”
“Enough!” Norris barked and shot his father a hard look. It was clear to one and all he was not pleased with his father’s silence.
“Aye, enough,” Lytge agreed. “The lass is nae some English noblewoman, raised to think herself above doing her share. Unless someone is willing to speak against her? A witness?”
“Mildred was in the stillroom. It was her duty,” the cook insisted.
“I was there as well,” Isla offered.
“But ye will only back yer mistress,” the cook accused her, “for ye have no place here at Dunrobin.”
Cam stepped forward to defend his sister. “Mind yer accusations, man.”
“For Christ’s sake!” the earl roared. “Have the lot of ye gone mad? I need a cook who can keep order in these kitchens.”
“I was keeping order.” The cook was quick to defend himself. “The spices ye trust me with are handled only by the most trusted. She”—he pointed at Daphne—“did nae have my permission to be in the stillroom. Such actions are suspicious. I’m right to be so cautious with my duty. It is an easy task to slip a nutmeg down a dress. I do nae allow just any lass into the stillroom, ye understand, me laird. Why, a couple of nutmegs are worth a fortune, and though there are plenty of rumors about her dowry, no one seems to know if she has one or not. Why wouldn’t I be suspicious to find her in the stillroom without permission?”
It was a valid point, one that drew dark looks from those watching. Daphne had to admit she would have questioned the matter if their roles were reversed, for nutmeg was rare and terribly expensive when it could be purchased. Yet the facts failed to keep her temper from rising.
“Shall I strip here, in order to appease ye? I have naught to hide and will prove it.” Her temper was boiling, else she never would have suggested such a thing. Shock appeared on Norris’s face, and his father’s, right before the earl choked with amusement. He bent over and slapped his thighs.
“Och now, well, little lass. I wager there are a few men hoping I’ll take ye up on that offer, and if me son is half the man I believe him to be, he’ll toss ye over his shoulder and take ye off to a chamber to ensure me the deed is done, since ye have so boldly offered.”
The old man’s brogue grew thicker with his amusement. Norris shook his head, fury dancing in his green eyes. Then he cursed in Gaelic and did exactly as his father suggested.
Daphne shrieked as she went over his shoulder, her skirts threatening to flip all the way over her head. Norris clamped an arm around her thighs and strode out of the kitchen to the sound of muffled laughter.
She was furious.
No ye aren’t; ye’re relieved to be free of the kitchen…
She wasn’t.
Ye’re being stubborn…
Fine. She was, and she wasn’t going to change her mind.
***
“Ye’ve got a nerve,” Daphne groused.
Norris grinned like a moonlight raider as he stood between her and the doorway.
“Do ye never tire of making a public display of me?” She discovered herself looking away because of the flare of excitement that went through her. She shouldn’t enjoy it.
Really… she shouldn’t.
“Nae when it comes to making sure everyone knows ye’re under me protection.” He aimed an unwavering look at her, one she was beginning to recognize and might even have called possessive—if she were foolish enough to think he cared so deeply about her, that is.
Yet ye do hope… That’s why it excites ye…
She cast a look about and realized he hadn’t taken her to the chamber she’d slept in. This one was twice the size and furnished with a bed worthy of the laird of the castle. The bed was hung with scarlet and purple velvet. She almost gaped like a simpleton and unconsciously chewed on her lower lip as she stared at the thing. It was huge, with heavy wooden posts carved with vines and leaves. Beneath it was a true Persian carpet. Or at least she thought it was, having only heard descriptions from her relations at court. Five swords hung on the wall, each one gleaming from recent polish.
“It’s as comfortable as it looks, but I would nae want ye to say I was telling ye what to think, lass. Ye’re very welcome to test it for yerself.” When she looked back at him, he was smirking. “But of course, ye did offer to shed yer clothing to prove yer innocence first.”
Her jaw did drop open. “Ye are a marauder.”
He shook his head. “Nae. I’m conducting meself as a true laird of the castle. Making me judgments based on fact, nae me personal feelings.”
He shrugged out of hi
s doublet and tossed it onto a large, ornately carved chair with a padded seat. “But I will be happy to play the blackguard with ye—too happy.”
A curl of heat unfurled inside her belly. It was intoxicating, dulling her wisdom and allowing boldness to rise up.
“Oh no, ye shall nae.” She propped her hands onto her hips and stood her ground against the slow advance he’d begun. “Since ye are determined to behave so very correctly, I would nae dream of distracting ye from such a noble purpose.”
He pushed out his lower lip, looking ridiculous and utterly adorable at the same time. “Ye would nae?” he asked, sounding pitifully disappointed.
“Nae,” she assured him firmly.
He grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “Where’s the fun in that?”
“Well…” Daphne reached up and tugged the linen cap off her head. She dropped it onto the table near the fireplace. “I do believe this was more of a duty…”
His eyebrows lowered as he tried to understand her meaning. Daphne removed the few pins holding her shoulder-length hair up so the blond strands cascaded down.
“So ye should sit down, me laird.”
His eyebrows shot up with disdain, bringing a smile to her lips. Daphne enjoyed the surge of daring that filled her and pointed at the chair.
“Sit down, Norris Sutherland, or I shan’t remove a single garment.”
He plopped into the chair like an eager little boy. There was a slant to his lips that was pure man, but his eyes glowed with anticipation too. A tingle raced along her arms and down her body, an awareness of just what her actions would lead to. She’d never felt so confident of her own sexuality or her ability to dictate the pace of their union.
“Do ye need help with yer laces?” he suggested hopefully.
Her cheeks heated, her memory recalling just how easily he’d overwhelmed her the first time. She’d boldly teased him too, and tonight, she wanted to unleash more of that devilish side of her nature.
She shook her head, gently fingering the edge of her bodice where it hooked. With a tiny pop, the first hook gave way, and then she was working her fingers down to the waistline.
Norris sat back, abandoning all hints of boyhood. Now he was very much an adult male, contemplating doing things only men did with women.
“I’ll have the tailor make ye up more of those,” he murmured suggestively.
“Ye are nae telling me what to do.” She had the bodice open, and the dress sagged, the weight of the skirt pulling it down her body. She rolled her shoulders back, and it easily slithered down her frame to the floor.
“Ye enjoy satisfying me demands.”
She shrugged, toying with the end of the lace that tightened her long stays down the front. “Ye might well find being on the receiving end… enjoyable too.”
His expression became one of impending challenge. He reached up and stroked his face. “I can nae wait to test yer theory.”
And neither could she. With a tug, she opened the bow the lace had been secured with. His gaze settled on the swell of her breasts. Hunger flickered in his eyes. It was fascinating the way he stared at her. She hadn’t realized how long she’d been in the stillroom, for the sun was setting and the light fading.
Twilight was the time when fairies were strongest…
With a single finger, she pulled the lace through the first few eyelets. Her breasts were still small and didn’t sag once their support was removed. The stays came off easily, and soon they were abandoned on the table with her cap.
Only the flicker of the fire lit the chamber. The dancing tongues of orange and scarlet cast a primitive light over her chemise. Norris’s face had been a tapestry of tension and need. One hand curled around the arm of the chair as though he fought the urge to rise.
“Come here, lass, and I’ll help ye with those boots.”
His voice was low and tempting and edged with a promise that made her tremble. It was the sure knowledge that he was aroused. She recognized the timbre of his tone. Beneath his kilt, his cock would already be stiff, and her passage was growing moist in response.
All of the reasons why they shouldn’t give into desire’s pull were missing as she sauntered toward him. He was mesmerized by her. His green eyes narrowed as his gaze slipped over the curve of her hips, and he patted the spot between his thighs. She wanted to be bold, wanted to let the desire to toy with him consume her.
He didn’t reach for the tie on her ankle boot first. Instead, he cupped her calf, gently rubbing it until he reached where her garters held her stocking secure at her knee. Without looking away from her, he worked the small buckle of the garter and released it.
“Courtesans learn to captivate a man by disrobing.” He slid his hand down to her boot and began to work the lace free of the antler-horn buttons along the inside of her ankle. “But I admit I’m the sort of man who enjoys getting his hands involved more than just watching.”
He lifted her foot out of the boot and let it fall to the floor. He massaged her foot, working his hands up along her calf until he reached the top of her stocking. He lingered there for a moment, teasing her bare skin. And then he boldly stroked the top of her thigh. When he drew his hand back, he curled his fingers into a talon, sending a ripple of sensation straight into her core. He felt it and chuckled softly as he tugged her stocking free.
“It seems ye like having me hands on ye as well, lass.”
He released her foot, and she touched it down onto the floor. The stone was cool and felt good against her skin. Her heart was racing, warming her and making the chemise feel like too much.
“So demanding again,” she admonished while offering her second boot to him. “Be careful. If ye believe ye know everything, what new experiences will there be for ye to have? What will there be to tantalize ye?”
He dropped her boot next to its companion. “I’m naught but yer humble student.”
She laughed at him while he unbuckled her garter and rolled her stocking down her leg. It fluttered to the floor, but he didn’t release her ankle. He held it prisoner while stroking her calf. This time he smoothed his hand along the inside of her thigh, awakening a thousand different points of sensitivity she’d never realized she had. The desire to lean her head back and let her eyes close so she might sink into the sensation was strong.
“I can see several advantages to sitting down,” Norris muttered.
He stretched up his hand, teasing the curls on her mons and then stroking her slit. She jumped, her eyes half-closed, and he steadied her with his hold on her ankle.
“Keep yer eyes on mine, lass.”
It was a honey-coated demand, and one she wanted to obey. He wasn’t the only one who wanted to know if the other was as moved. His green eyes were full of passion as he teased her folds, stroking them and parting them to circle the opening to her passage.
“No quite wet enough, but I recall well how to remedy that.”
Anticipation ripped through her, tightening her nipples. Her clit throbbed for the touch of his tongue again. Nevertheless, her pride rebelled.
“Ye are doing me bidding tonight.”
He thrust the tip of one finger into her passage, unleashing a need that was staggering with its intensity. “Is that a fact?”
“It is,” she countered and lowered her leg. Her clit ached with frustration, but she was too absorbed with the idea of reducing him to the same state he’d had her in that morning.
She sank to her knees, remaining between his open thighs, and flipped up the folds of his kilt. He sucked in a harsh breath. Just as she’d thought, his cock was rigid, the length of it standing straight up now that there was nothing to press it down.
“And I am going to enjoy matching ye, me fine laird.”
The skin encasing his member was soft and smooth. It was hot too. She clasped i
t, taking a moment to listen to the sounds he made as she stroked his length. Her confidence swelled in response, giving her the daring to lean forward and lick the head.
“Holy fucking Christ!” he swore.
“Norris Sutherland! Christ was pure.”
Norris’s eyes glittered with a savage need. He reached out and cupped the back of her head, gripping it just tight enough to send a prickle of sensation across her scalp.
“If ye had been between his thighs with yer little rosy nipples peeking at him, he’d have enjoyed ye as much as I plan to.” His eyes narrowed in challenge. “Unless ye’ve lost yer nerve.”
“Only gained more of it.” She stroked his length with her fingers. “Ye’ll nae count me as another conquest, Norris. I am going to be the woman ye remember as being able to best ye.”
Sure, she was boasting, but she didn’t care. She leaned forward and licked the crown of his cock. His grip tightened, confirming she was doing the job right. So she continued, teasing the slit and the spot beneath the head with her tongue.
“Ye’ve a natural instinct, sure enough.” His voice was raspy, and he’d leaned back in the chair, offering his cock to her. But he wasn’t shaking as he did right before he climaxed. For a moment she faltered, until her memory offered up a few comments she’d heard when the maids on MacLeod land hadn’t thought she was close enough to hear them.
“Likely sucks him off…”
She smiled as understanding dawned. Opening her mouth, she took the entire head inside and heard him growl. The sound was all she needed as encouragement. Rising up so she could take more of his length inside her mouth, she mimicked the motion of thrusting. Moving her head up and down, taking as much of his member as she could while sucking her lips around it. Both of his hands gripped her head while he thrust upwards into her mouth. She felt him shaking, his cock hardening even further before it suddenly erupted, filling her mouth with his seed.
“Ye’re a creature of enchantment for certain,” he snarled, pulling her head away from his sex. For a moment, she soaked up the satisfaction shimmering in his eyes, letting the sight fill her with confidence. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The woman inside her was pleased, and there was no shame involved.
