“How about now?”
She clenched her fist at her side. Why is he taking so long? I don’t want his tender touch, tenderness isn’t what I want.
He leaned over, and his tongue continued tracing downward until he reached her apex. He knelt between her thighs, lifted her hips, slid his hands down the back of her thighs, and spread her wide.
“Now?”
If I had a stick in my hands, I’d sit up and wallop you. Enough already!
He buried his mouth in her folds, and his tongue stroked her entrance. Blood was pulling in her –— somewhere down there. He continued swirling circles around her hardened nub, whirling… swirling …twirling— he didn’t let up — until she stiffened, and the tension burst in a thousand pieces.
Her eyes were losing focus, but his was finding pleasure. He watched her face until she came back to herself. She was still breathing heavily and slowed until her breath and heartbeat were steady again.
Am I ready for what’s next?
Edan clearly was. When he knelt, she could see the rise in his kilt and felt certain this was happening. She unclipped his kilt, and she beheld a figure of a man strong and powerful.
Isabel needed him. She needed him emotionally. She craved him to be closer, and at this moment her need was more primal, more demanding, hungrier.
She felt the same tension built up again, the one he had just released. She needed more from him, she needed him inside her.
“Edan!”
“Are ye sure ye be ready, me lass?”
She gripped his back and yanked him hard on top of her, craving to be crushed by the weight of him. Edan braced his weight with his arms.
Her breathing became more labored. “Edan — NOW!”
His two fingers entered her – she was ready.
He stretched her with shallow thrusts. She felt a sharp pain. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until she forcibly exhaled. Her body relaxed and ready to surrender to him.
“Please!” she begged, digging her nails in his back. She arched to take all of him. He paused until he filled her completely.
“You’re so large!” She exclaimed. He didn’t think she realized her words made his pride swell.
“Aye. A Scotsman knows how ye use it, lass.” He was taking in short, shallow breaths.
Isabel moaned – more like a groan —her words. “Please don’t stop!”
“I couldnae even if I wanted to…which I donnae.” Now he was having a problem forming his words.
The delight of Edan inside her was something she had never felt. It was closer and more intimate.
“Edan,” she whimpered in his ear. He nipped gently on her neck while he continued to rock his body within her. Just as she caught his rhythm, he stopped.
The tightness of her was too much for him to handle without ending too quickly. He needed her to enjoy it as much as he was.
“Please! Why did you stop?” she whined.
He was panting hard. “Sorry, lass, I’m trying to make it last.”
“No, don’t. We can just do it again.”
He was gasping between his words. “Aye, and again and again.” He resumed his pushing.
He lifted her hips and rocked her over and over. Isabel arched her body further into his to get him closer, moving faster and more urgently.
“Edan…Edan…Edan…” she repeated her mantra with every pound until she stretched her legs tight and exhaled a loud cry of deliverance.
Shuddering in breaths of gasping completion, she heard his hoarse groan of masculine fulfillment and felt his release.
As they tried to catch their breath, Edan rolled to his side. He gathered her into his arms and told her “Shhhh.” She felt so tiny and cared for.
Chapter 34
In the great hall that evening, Isabel and Edan sat amongst their friends, their secret whispered between them through smiles and coy glances. It seemed to only increase their thirst for one another.
“Lass, today was amazing. Ye were amazing. I want to spend more time with ye. Can I come to ye tonight? Even if it’s only to speak. I need to see ye and ken what is really on yer mind after the day,” Edan said.
“Yes. Of course, you may come to me,” Isabel replied. A wave of guilt rushed over her. This was what she had been dreading. Now, at last, he was determined to come to her room again.
It felt to her that this dance had happened so many times. All of her planning and worries. Would she finish it all tonight? Would she allow herself to fail again and continue inflicting the torture of more time to grow in love with Edan?
“Ye havnae any worries, lass? It seems to me that something’s on yer mind,” Caitriona said.
“Whatever do you mean?” Isabel asked dumbly. It was clear that her anxieties had been noticed and were causing Caitriona alarm.
Isabel stood by her window but turned to face Caitriona. It’s easiest to appear strong when facing your challenger — at least, that was what James had always said. Facing Caitriona meant deflecting suspicion.
“Well, ye didnae seem yerself as ye left dinner this evening,” Caitriona said with some hesitation.
Isabel put a trained, casual look on her face and worked to instill doubt in Caitriona’s perceptions.
“I am very sorry for causing you any concern. I cannot think of anything that would make me feel so much distress, truly,” Isabel said. The lie felt thick on her tongue, and her heart beat quickened.
Please do not push me Caitriona. I don’t wish to do it, believe me. But I must. I must do it for my brother, Isabel thought.
Caitriona did not look convinced, but she tried to trust her new friend. Choosing to get comfortable, she flopped her body on the bed and rolled to her right side, cupping her ear with her hand – most unladylike.
“Are ye scared?” Caitriona asked.
“For what?” Isabel questioned. She wondered if Caitriona could hear her heart pulsing louder behind her rib cage.
“Me brother said he would be coming up to see ye later. Do ye dread his visits? Is he the impatient, randy sort?” Caitriona teased with horror.
It took Isabel a moment to discern what Caitriona meant.
“Oh! Heavens no! No, your brother is very kind to me and has never...pushed. Perhaps I am just tired,” Isabel said. It had been her typical response to her varying moods.
“But is he still to visit ye?” Caitriona asked, suddenly wondering if her own visit had not been convenient.
“Yes...” Isabel said, trying not to allow her voice to catch in her sadness for what that meant.
“Well then, I’ll be getting out of yer way here soon, but I may need ye to tell me a story to take me mind off the image of me brother in here with ye,” Caitriona said, flopping back lazily with her head striking the pillow.
“Dammit!” she shouted, popping up and rubbing the back of her head. “What the bloody hell is that?”
Before Isabel could protest, Caitriona slid her hand under the pillow and pulled out the knife.
Isabel’s delayed, “No...,” was merely a whisper.
For a moment, Caitriona’s brain had not registered what any of it meant. But she slowly connected the fact that Edan would soon be in the room, on the very bed with a knife hidden beneath the pillow.
She looked to Isabel’s face, with clear and evident shame gracing every inch of it. She needed no further confirmation.
“Who are ye?” Caitriona asked, her eyes becoming slivers of hate like a snake.
“I-I am...”
“Who. Are. Ye?” she repeated with venom, closing the distance between Isabel and the window. She fiddled with the latch and the glass opened outward. As Caitriona pushed further, Isabel’s torso was leaning through it.
Isabel realized that she would soon be made to lean back far enough that her legs would give way over the ledge and she would fall the six stories to her death below. She could not let herself be killed that way. Isabel stabilized her body.
“I am Isabel,” sh
e said with unexpected strength, pushing back against Caitriona. “I am the daughter to the Duke of Gordon. Sister to James, murdered by your brother. I am a daughter of England,” she ended.
Caitriona scoffed and opened her mouth to speak when another sound struck their ears with a deafening crack.
A lone applause was heard just beyond the door, growing until the hands of Edan could be seen, followed by his smouldering face.
“Bravo,” he said. “That was quite the performance ye put on for me, lass. Yes, ye are quite the actor. Ye truly had me. I believed it. Every. Last. Word,” he spat with pain.
“Edan...I am sorry.” Isabel choked frightened from being discovered. Her eyes were wide with the horror of what he had heard. At this moment, realizing what she’d done — what she’d been planning to do — it hit her that she had ruined everything she ever wanted.
“Sorry? Ye be sorry? Dinnae lie to me, ye English brat. Dinnae tell me that everything was for yer little revenge fantasy. I didnae kill yer brother and I’d have thought that by now ye’d ken I’m not that kind of man,” he said.
Isabel stood speechless with pain in her eyes. The cost had been too great after all. Edan’s death would have been a horror, but his recognition of what she had done was worse.
“Caitriona, leave us. I have much to say,” he ordered.
His sister, having never seen him so wounded, left without a word. Her face was caught between unbridled hatred of Isabel and dire concern for Edan.
“Please, Edan, I know I was wrong!” Isabel begged. She was shamefully conscious of his scrutiny.
“Do ye? Because I heard the little speech ye gave me sister and that was not the speech of a woman who can admit her failure. That was the speech of the very English bullshit that we dinnae have time for any more.
“Ye could have left me to deal out the justice due oor man who hurt yer brother. And we did. But ye didnae have to hurt me,” he said.
“I am truly sorry,” she said, throwing herself at his feet and weeping.
“Dinnae touch me!” Edan shouted. “Ye think I am a murderer. Ye think I am a man whose heart is to be toyed with for yer own pleasure and gain. Tell me, why did ye pretend to love me? Was it nae enough to just kill me?”
Isabel stared up at his face from her place kneeling before him. Her eyes reflected the redness she saw in Edan’s as both wept because of her mistake.
“I do love you, Edan. I do! And if you tell me you did not kill James, then I will trust you. I will believe you. Just tell me you did not kill him and I will tell my father. All will be well,” she promised him.
“Lass, it’s too late for that. Ye see, ye shouldnae have to ask me. Ye should ken I’d never do that. But more than that, ye arnae the one who needs to trust anymore. Ye tried to kill me, that breaks the trust just a wee bit,” he said.
As he began to back out of the room, Isabel gave a weak, “Please...”. Edan called for a guard, spoke to him in the doorway, then stood as the guard closed and locked the door.
“No! Edan!” Isabel cried. She listened to the sounds of his feet depart, and she continued to scream after him.
“Do not leave me! Let me explain! I’m sorry, Edan!”
Banging on the wooden door was useless against the deaf ears of a guard, trained to watch over prisoners. And now, Isabel had become that all over again.
Before, her attraction to Edan had been new and unexpected. She had kept herself busy by planning his murder and then falling in love with him. But having actually tried to convince herself to kill him had left her broken-hearted.
Deep down, Isabel knew without a doubt that Edan was innocent. She had known it all along. Her stubbornness and devotion to her English ancestry had led her to a prejudice she was completely unaware of. If Edan had not been Scottish, she would have admitted much sooner that he was no killer.
She would not have destroyed her only happiness with the man she loved more than anything in this world.
But she had allowed the world to fool her, to make her believe they were really that different. And that left her here, without Edan. Alone.
Chapter 35
“Well, here we are men,” Edan said, addressing his council.
“What is it ye have called us together for, me Laird?” asked Robert.
“It would seem that I was blinded after all. For this, I must ask your forgiveness. But I do have news which will bring some joy. We need not worry about the next attack from the Duke of Gordon. I know now what he was after and it was not revenge,” Edan said.
“Then what, Laird?”
“Isabel, our prisoner,” Edan said. “His daughter...”
The men showed their shock and amazement at this news which was both a relief and a threat. While they would not need to brace for another attack, they had to wonder whether or not the prisoner had learned anything that might hurt the clan against the English.
“So, what is oor plan?” asked Callum. It was apparent that he was seething beneath his respectful veneer. Not only had Edan made the mistake of allowing her to remain for so long, but he had not consulted his uncle before calling this meeting. An angry cough rattled him for a moment before Edan was able to move on.
“We will hand her over when they march on us tomorrow. From afar we will send her on a horse, and we will remain on guard, but I am certain that her return will appease the Duke of Gordon,” Edan said.
“Ye speak often of certainty,” came the rickety voice of Wally. Wally had been friends with Edan’s grandfather before his death. “And yet, despite yer certainty, ye tend to not always make the best choices, lad. I ken ye are still fresh at this but do not think it will always be easy to expect forgiveness for such an oversight as letting in an enemy to appease yer willy.”
Edan felt the whole room turn on him. It was the first time he recognized the reality of their questioning him as a leader.
“So ye all doubt me,” he stated. It was no longer a question.
“We simply urge ye to consider the cost before making any decisions,” Wally said. “This council doesnae exist to prevent yer leadership, it exists to aid it. We are here to support ye and give ye guidance when we believe necessary.”
“And ye think it’s necessary now...” he said.
“Aye, we do, lad,” Wally replied.
“Well then, I had best listen to ye. I cannae keep making decisions ye believe to be unwise,” Edan said, resigned to the fact that he had disappointed them.
Wally stood to his feet. Despite his hunched frame, he commanded the respect of all those in the room.
“Laird Edan, we are honored to have ye as Laird serving over us. We are grateful for the legacy yer faither left behind and for yer uncle, Callum, who continued to train ye after yer faither’s passing. Dinnae think we have any regrets that ye are in this position.
“But, we must also urge ye to keep us informed. And to be vigilant in your role as Laird. Yer clan comes first. Before yer own wants. Before any of oor enemies. Yer clan must always come first,” Wally finished.
Callum stood next. “Me Laird, remember that ye are also me nephew. Oor kinship means I care about ye in ways ye cannae fathom. Ye ken I’ve nae children of me own. Me bonnie Faye and I saw ye as oor own, more so since yer faither passed. And as me family, ken that I want what’s best for ye.”
“And what do ye think that is?” Edan inquired, with genuine humility.
“Two things, me Laird. First, ye must be rid of the English harlot. We are all agreed on that. The second is that I would like to propose that we again discuss the fate of Cormag,” he said.
The groans and mutterings of his fellow council meant he had to speak louder to say what he wished. “Now that we ken that it was the death of James that brought his sister into oor home and put us all at risk, we must reconsider his execution.”
“We cannae do that!” shouted Robert, banging his fist on the table. A few men voiced their agreement while others sat silently, biding their time to comment.
“And why not?” Callum challenged.
“We’ve already determined his case. It’s finished. Why are ye so sure this needs to happen?” Robert asked.
“Because Cormag is a liar and a threat to us. Sometimes when one of oor own takes vengeance on the enemy, it only puts us in further danger. That is exactly the case here with Cormag,” Callum said.
More dissent was voiced until Wally stood again.
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