His breath ragged and his mind swirling, he could not get enough of tasting her. “Aye, Cailin, I know…but…” He ground his cock against the heat between her legs, his groin throbbing for release. When she squeezed her legs tighter, drawing him harder against her, he groaned into her mouth. His hands fumbled with her belt, unbuckling the leather and giving him free reign to explore her damp skin. His palms smoothed over her back, along her ribs and Cailin gasped when he cupped her breast and pinched her nipple.
“Nay, James.” She pushed his shoulder. Her eyes implored him, her chest heaving. “We cannot…though God knows I ache to…”
He nodded, panting, and touched his forehead to hers. “Aye…aye…” God, how he did not want to pull away from her.
“Cailin?” Margeret’s voice echoed down the corridor.
Cailin practically leapt from the table, shoving James back and putting some distance between them. She snatched her dagger belt and hurriedly fastened it around her waist. James grumbled when Margeret poked her head through the doorway and assessed the situation. Her eyes darted between Cailin and James several times before settling on Cailin. She stepped into the room with a tray in her hands, balancing an earthen pitcher and two mugs. The handmaid set the tray down upon the table where Cailin’s sweet bottom had just been. “Have I interrupted something?”
“Nay, Maggie!” Cailin had her blunt weapons in hand, ready to do battle. “I was just showing James a new maneuver.”
Margeret narrowed suspicious eyes at James and he crossed his arms. “And just what is the meaning of that expression?” he growled.
Margeret gasped. “Watch that tongue of yours, Master James!” She stalked forward, pointing her finger in his face. “It is my station to watch over Mistress Cailin.”
“And you suppose I have ill intentions upon my wife?” he retorted.
“She is not your wife yet, laddie! And you best not be forgettin’ that.”
“’Tis only a few—”
Cailin stepped between them. “Maggie, I assure you, James has behaved himself perfectly.” She marched Margeret to the bench and sat her down. Grabbing the two drying cloths from the bench, Cailin then marched over to James. “We have been working very hard to prepare for the worst, have we not, James?” She handed him a cloth and proceeded to blot the sweat from her face. “’Tis hard work sparring, and you know how I loathe to do it, Maggie, but it cannot be avoided.”
Oh, Lord in heaven, ’tis the dutiful wife stealing my Mouse!
“I know, child.” Margeret pouted and nodded her head.
And Maggie must be the one feeding this rubbish to her!
Cailin poured small beer into the two mugs. “’Tis kind of you to bring some drink, Maggie.” She pivoted and held a mug out to James. “Would you like something—”
“Nay, I do not.”
Tight-lipped, Cailin placed the mugs on the tray and faced him with her hands clasped before her. “Might I ask why your mood has soured so suddenly?”
“’Tis pretending to be something you absolutely are not, Mistress Cailin.”
Flames roared in her midnight-blue eyes and she clenched her jaw, though several moments passed before she opened her mouth again. “And what exactly are you implying, Master James.”
He tipped his head back and let the sardonic laughter pour from him. “I am not implying anything, Mistress Cailin. I am stating quite plainly that you are not this dutiful wife you pretend to be. You—”
“She most certainly is, laddie!” Margeret defended and stomped forward, her finger pointed at him again.
He leveled his eyes at her and she shrank. “Maggie, you had better stand down with that finger of yours or I shall—”
“Do not dare to threaten Maggie, James!” Cailin took one step forward and opened her mouth, but as she had done in their last heated exchange, she whirled and ran from the room.
“Oh, no you don’t!” James threw the drying cloth to the floor and ran after her. Far down the hall, her chamber door slammed. How the hell did she get down there so quickly!
Davina stepped into his path, almost colliding with him, and he slid to a halt. She gasped and put her hand to her breast, breathing a few gulps of air. “I’m sorry to interrupt you, but your father is at the front gate.”
“My father?” Blast! His eyes darted between Davina and Cailin’s chamber door before he heaved a sigh of resignation. “Aye, I’ll see to him. Thank you.”
“Broderick has already warned me not to trust your father, James.” Her brow furrowed. “Do not let him through that gate, do you understand me?”
“Very clearly, my lady. I want him in this home less than you do, I can assure you.” He nodded to Davina and grabbed his sword before he hurried down the steps with a grumble and fastened the weapon to his hips.
Cailin finished changing into her riding habit and stormed out of her room on the verge of crying. She swiped at the tears, refusing to give into their needling demand for release.
Margeret trailed after her. “Cailin, you cannot let that man bother you so much.”
“Maggie, now is not the time to reprimand me about my temper.” She continued through the castle, dodging servants and navigating through hallways until she burst through the door to the back courtyard. She didn’t care if Maggie was behind her or not. Stomping across the yard, she entered the stables. She grumbled while snagging her saddle off its stand, hefted it into the stall of her horse and threw it over the mare’s back.
“Easy there, lassie.” Fife the stable master stepped into the stall with Cailin and stayed her hand. “Let me do that for ye before she nicks ye.”
Cailin turned and started pacing.
“And ye best be taking that outside the stall before she nicks me.” His voice was firm but compassionate.
“Sorry, Fife.” She did as he requested, the winds taken out of the sails of her anger. “I wish I could control my temper better,” she muttered.
“Temper?” Fife toddled to the other side of Cailin’s mare, Blossom—a name she chose due to her fondness of father’s pet name for her mother. “Nay, ’tis just a passionate nature ye have, just like yer mum.”
Cailin smiled and rested her forearms on the stall ledge, propping her chin on the backs of her hands. Fife had been caring for their horseflesh since before she was born, having once worked for her grandmother, Lilias, who passed away four winters ago. He was ever patient with the animals and with her, the man always possessing a gentle spirit.
Patting her mare’s flank, he led her out of the stall and into the yard. “She be ready for ye, lassie. Be easy with her, now.”
Standing on her tiptoes, she pecked a kiss on his cheek. “As always, thank you, Fife.”
He chuckled. “Ooo, Mary will flog me if she sees me gettin’ a kiss from such a bonnie lass.”
Cailin couldn’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of her mouth. As she mounted Blossom and arranged her skirts for riding, Ranald and Will stalked toward her. “Good day, sirs.” She cocked a brow and her knees hugged her mare. The back gate was just being opened, allowing Libby and her marketing cart through.
“Now then, Mistress Cailin,” Ranald scolded with his arms crossed. Will mirrored his stance and frown of disapproval. “You know riding alone is not encouraged.”
“Then you had better get your horses saddled quickly if you wish to catch me.” She winked and kicked her heels into Blossom’s side, her laughter echoing around the courtyard as she dashed through the back gate. Looking over her shoulder, she giggled at them scrambling into the stables, hollering at Fife to help them get saddled. She shook her head and slowed her pace. She’d not venture too far ahead so they could still see her in the distance.
“Now you listen to me, lad!” Alistair growled, pointing his finger into James’s chest.
James mustered every bit of control he had left after dealing with Cailin. His father was on the brink of getting his jaw knocked from his head. “Trying to get me to turn on the MacDougals
is hardly the path to choose in reconciling with me, father, and I’m not going to stand here and listen to your lies.”
“I’m not lying to you! You weren’t told everything about the murder of your mother, James.” Alistair ground his teeth as James sighed. “Broderick MacDougal killed your mother!”
“Now that is a lie straight from the pit of hell!” James boomed at Alistair.
“’Tis the truth, as surely as if he cut her throat with his own hands!”
“Angus Campbell is responsible for Mum’s death!” Though it had been a blow to James yesterday when Broderick filled him in on the details of Fiona’s murder, he trusted Broderick’s word and his account of the tragedy. Campbell had used two masked henchmen during the day to kidnap Davina and Cailin—ten years old then—from the shipping house. Alistair and Fiona had also been there. Fiona’s throat had been slashed open and Alistair stabbed in the gut and left for dead. Davina and Cailin were tortured until Broderick rescued his family and Campbell escaped…again. MacDougal had returned as soon as possible to find Alistair barely hanging on to his life and used his immortal blood to heal him.
The news had slashed open old wounds, making them fresh again. James couldn’t prevent the trembling in his voice. “You forget Broderick saved your life and Campbell sent those men. I know what you say about this…if we had not become involved with Broderick—”
“If he had but warned us about what Angus was capable of doing,” Alistair finished with his twist of the situation. “We could have been more prepared or even had the choice of not becoming involved with him. Do you not see, lad…MacDougal was just using our family and we are but casualties in this endless war he has with Angus.”
James narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. “Strange that you use his given name, this enemy of the MacDougals. I wonder, father, how well you know our friend Campbell.”
Alistair shook his head. “Son, I tell you—”
“Enough!” James drew his sword and touched the point to his father’s throat. Alistair’s eyes grew wide and his breath caught when the sharp point pierced his skin. “You walked away from your responsibilities to me when I needed you most and now you come back here blaming your own mistakes on the only people who ever gave a damn about me. Broderick is guilty only by association and you are nothing but a coward.” He stepped back, but kept his sword leveled at Alistair’s heart. “Begone! You are dead to me, Alistair Knightly. Leave this place and never return.”
James stood his ground, his father glaring at him, tears threatening to spill over his lashes.
Without another word, Alistair turned and stomped over the bridge and down the pathway, away from MacDougal Castle.
Finally releasing his breath, James sheathed his sword and spun on his heels, pushed through the gate and headed back inside the fortress. Now to deal with Cailin.
Chapter Five
As he bounded up the steps to the first-level bedchambers, Margeret cleared her throat rather loudly. James stopped, clenched his fists and swiveled to face her haughty leer.
“You will not find her in her room, Master James.” Her chin jutted forward and her lips formed a thin line of disapproval. “Gone for a ride to clear her head, she has.”
He reined in his temper and nodded. “Thank you, Maggie.” He turned to continue up the stairs when Margeret’s voice arrested his progress again.
“Both of you should learn to control your tempers.” Accusation laced her voice.
James whirled and stopped a breath away from Margeret, towering over her now-shrinking figure. “What Cailin needs is to stop listening to your ideas of what you envision to be the perfect and dutiful wife. She is fine just the way she is. I do not know what they taught you in Ireland growing up or what your late husband instructed you on how Scottish Highland wives should behave. Here in the Lowlands a woman is appreciated for her natural talents.”
Margeret jutted her chin again, albeit a bit more hesitant, but she nodded.
James relaxed. “I mean you no disrespect, Maggie, and I know you mean well. I am not exactly at my best today.”
Margeret relaxed her shoulders. “Aye, Master James. ’Tis a challenging time you’ve had. You know where my heart is for Cailin. I suppose I shall let the natural order of things prevail.”
He chuckled. “Well, you are right not to trust her alone with me.”
Maggie snickered behind her hands. “Aye, laddie, I’m glad yer honest with yerself about that, but I shall be sure you keep yer breeches on around her.”
“I still won’t make it easy for you!” Laughing, James pivoted back up the stairs and went to his chamber. He would give Cailin a chance to bring her temper down to a simmer. It would be best for them both if they had time to let their anger ebb.
Cailin glanced over her shoulder and chuckled at Will and Ranald’s failed attempts to find her. She had grown very adept at hiding enough so they could not see her, but she could still see them. Such games she played at their expense did wonders for her on many levels. She perfected her tracking and hiding skills and this frequently distracted her from whatever troubles had plagued her enough to take a cleansing ride, thereby always lightening her mood. She pranced her mare about in a circle, stirring the mud and leaves so the guards could see her tracks, then trotted deeper into the forest. Branches and the canopy of trees above her still dripped water from the previous night’s rain. Cailin frequently wiped the wetness from her cheeks. Perhaps she should find a nice hiding spot and ambush them when they ran by. She stopped and, leaning forward in the saddle, peered around a tree.
Alistair Knightly trekked through the forest at a determined pace. She slipped from the saddle and followed him at a distance. What is he doing out here? He wasn’t welcome in her home and James had made it abundantly clear he wasn’t open to receiving his father for visits either. So what would have him venturing so close to MacDougal Castle or into these woods?
She followed him to an even denser part of the forest she never before explored, not wishing to wander too far from the protection of her home. Nestled into the side of a small hill was a tiny thatched-roof cottage. Alistair rapped on the door and waited. Cailin tied Blossom to a large tree out of sight and padded closer to the small building to get a better view of who might answer the door. Alistair rapped one more time and someone grumbled from within. “Aye, give me a moment!”
Cailin narrowed her eyes. That gruff voice sounded vaguely familiar.
The door swung open and Cailin clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from gasping aloud. That man named Jasper, who had jumped her in the alley, stood in the doorway and ushered Alistair into the house. He quickly swept the area with his gaze. Cailin stayed low and Jasper slammed the door.
Checking the area with her own sweeping gaze, she scampered up to the house and positioned herself under the shuttered window. Just to be safe, she checked the small sheath in her sleeve to be sure she had her slender dagger at the ready…also forged with a thick layer of silver, as all her blades were.
“Thank you,” Alistair said. “I could use a mug after the exchange I just had with my son.”
“What did ye learn?” Jasper prodded.
“MacDougal is out of town.”
Jasper sputtered, apparently choking on whatever drink he shared with Alistair. “Are ye sure?”
“Aye. James is staying at their castle, helping to protect the family while he is away.” Alistair slurped and slammed down his mug. “You should have seen the fancy weapon he threatened to cut my throat with.”
“How long will MacDougal be gone?”
“I know not and neither does James.”
“We have to move quickly then.” Jasper paused and gulped. “Ye need to go back and talk to yer son, find out if there is an opportunity for Cailin and Davina to be alone.”
“No need for that.” Alistair had a little too much confidence in his voice for Cailin’s comfort. “I just ran into the Gypsies and they’re preparing to celebrate the betrothal of
James and Cailin. Strange enough, they’re the same Gypsies who told me—”
“When?”
“Huh? Oh, last year. Remember I told you—”
“Mate.” Jasper sighed. “Let’s not get distracted when yer revenge is finally at hand. When are they celebrating the betrothal?”
“Right you are. On the morrow, in the afternoon. And it will be at the Gypsy camp, in the open. They will surely have guards, though.”
“Bah!” Jasper exclaimed. “We just need to create a diversion to get everyone’s attention off of Davina and Cailin. Once we do that, we grab ’em.” A loud slapping caused Cailin to start. “Good work, Alistair. Angus will reward ye greatly.”
Cailin’s heart hammered against her ribs. She had lingered far too long. Guarding her steps carefully, she padded away from the cottage and navigated through the trees and wet leaves back to Blossom. She checked behind her and was relieved she was neither discovered nor followed, and swung up into the saddle.
Kicking her horse into a gallop, she headed toward the castle. Angus has been planning another capture, but for how long? And Alistair…what has caused him to betray us like this? I have to get back and tell James what his father— She yanked on the reins and looked through the trees, now closed behind her to conceal the cottage.
This was a rare opportunity she could not pass up. Pulling the amulet from her bodice, she ran her fingertip over the grooved surface of the strange markings. “So, Angus. If you wish to bundle me off again, you shall have more than you bargained for.” She tucked the amulet under her chemise and turned her horse toward Jasper’s cottage.
After a few yards, though, she slowed to a halt. “Nay, I cannot just barge into that hut and state, ‘I am here. Take me to Angus!’ They will think I am setting them up for a trap.” She shook her head. I must make them think they have succeeded with their plan. She nodded, satisfied with her idea. “Come and get me, you bastard,” she hissed. “I am truly ready for you!”
Cailin dug her heels into Blossom’s side to return toward the castle and prepare for her capture on the morrow.
MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles Page 9
