The Crusader's Heart

by Kate Forrest

  Isobel gasped again as she made contact with his naked flesh. He bit his lip in ecstasy as she moved up and down his shaft once more, this time without anything between them.

  “Is this good?” she asked.

  Her hot breath blew in his ear as she spoke, and Alex felt a chill. The heat from her hand—the sound of her voice—the smell of her skin. The heady scent of lavender radiated from her neck.

  “Tell me what to do,” she whispered.

  Alex turned to see her; the sight was intoxicating. There, pressed up against him with her hand wrapped around his cock, was Isobel. In the twilight of the sky, her eyes flickered with passion.

  In seconds, he had Isobel on her back, pinned to the ground. Her mouth opened in surprise. He couldn’t wait. His lips covered hers, his tongue darting into the warmth of her mouth, seeking out her tongue. His open-mouthed kisses grew in intensity, trying to coax a response from her, until finally—hesitantly—her tongue flicked back. Alex groaned and reached down to pull her legs up, but her skirts were tangled. Frustrated by not being able to feel her, he broke the kiss and pulled back far enough so he could reach down and lift her dress up over her thighs. The motion exposed her delicate smooth skin. He ran his hand from her calf to her hip, savoring the silken texture of her body.

  The faint silvery light that filtered through the trees gently illuminated Isobel’s face.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, before seeking her mouth again. He wedged himself snugly between her thighs and moved against her.

  You’re going too fast, Alex. You need to slow down. But when Isobel reached down and touched his lower back, urging him on as her nails pressed into his tunic, he couldn’t remember why he needed to go slow.

  He kissed down her neck to her shoulder, pushing away the fabric of her dress to expose the skin there.

  “I want you to show me everything, Alex,” she whispered.

  Her words reminded him of why he needed to take care. She’s a maiden. Though in the moment, Alex felt like an inexperienced youth himself. He was letting the passion consume him, and he was rushing. He knew why; it had been a year since he’d last been with a woman. If I keep grinding against her for much longer, I’ll spend myself like a sixteen-year-old lad.

  Changing positions, he lifted himself off her and gently closed her legs. Alex leaned onto his side, using his right arm for support, while letting his left hand drift over Isobel’s stomach, then breasts. He wished he could feel her flesh in his palm, but their circumstances made it impractical to fully undress her. Not when danger still sought them.

  In the next instant, Isobel reached up, capturing his face in both of her hands.

  “Kiss me again,” she said.

  Alex did as she bade, but while he still had the clarity to do so, he leaned over her, feeling along the ground for his gallowglass sword. He grasped its handle and brought it closer to them, tucking it beneath the plaid. He always kept it within arm’s reach.

  Isobel broke the kiss. “What are you doing, Alex?” she asked.

  “Just keeping us safe,” he whispered, then captured her lips again.

  Isobel sighed between kisses as his hand skimmed over her breasts, feeling across the exposed skin of her cleavage. With a final kiss on the lips, Alex bent his head and kissed his way down her neck, then to the valley between her breasts.

  If only I could take off the damn gown. He knew her breasts would be perfect, like every other part of her. He licked across the top of each breast, and then flicked his tongue beneath the fabric. The action made her cry out.

  “Alex, please,” she said. He could tell she grew restless, as did he. She reached for him, urging him back to her. He obliged, lifting his head to kiss her. He thrust his tongue into her mouth, and she met him, driving him mad with every touch of her tongue.

  Without breaking the kiss, Alex found Isobel turning into him, hooking her leg over his hip. He was grinding up against her again; his hand glided under her skirts to touch her thigh. Her skin was so smooth, like the surface of polished sea glass. This feels perfect.

  But it’s wrong. The thought forced itself from the back of his mind. She is a maid, and she is in mourning, and she saw me kill a man today. Stop being a selfish bastard. Finally, he broke the kiss.

  “Isobel, we cannae do this,” he said, between labored breaths.

  “Why not?” Her lips were red and swollen from kissing. “ ’Tis clear you want to.” She ground up against his hard length; Alex knew she was proving her point.

  “I desire you more than anything. But you must see that this isn’t right.”

  Isobel pulled away from him, giving Alex the space to regain more of his sanity.

  “Alex, I do not know what the future will bring, but I know what I—what we—can have right now. I’m not asking for anything beyond what this night holds.”

  She sounded sincere, but Alex felt a tingling in his spine. She isn’t asking anything of me. It is what most men would desire of a woman. And, yet, it wasn’t what he desired. He wanted her—all of her. But Alex could offer her nothing, and she could not save his clan. What he wanted was impossible.

  “I care for you too much, Isobel. I will nae use you in such a way.” If he could not marry her, he would not take her innocence.

  “You are not using me, Alex. I want this. I want to feel some joy and pleasure with someone who cares for me.”

  “But I cannae marry you.”

  “I’m not asking for that. I just want you. Tonight.” With that, she pressed her lips to his neck, just like she had done outside Katy and Tom’s cottage days ago, and drew away from him.

  He closed his eyes, trying to see what was right. When he opened them, he took in Isobel’s appearance. She lay on her back, her hair spread out and flowing over the plaid, onto the forest floor. For the rest of his days, he knew he would never behold anything as lovely as she.

  Alex climbed on top of her then, taking care to keep his weight off her. As he looked into her brilliant violet eyes, he pushed inside her in a single thrust.

  ****

  Isobel awoke before dawn. She was blissfully warm, wrapped in Alex’s strong arms. She nuzzled against his chest, savoring the solid feel of him beneath her cheek. She could hear his beating heart—calm and steady. Did it race last night, as mine did? The memory of their lovemaking made Isobel dizzy with happiness.

  She’d nearly died yesterday. Knowing that she could have left this world had given her the courage to reach out to him last night. Whether she stayed at the nunnery or somehow managed to travel on to Ireland on her own, she wanted the memory of being with Alex to stay with her. And what a memory he’d given her, though the experience had been nothing like she’d imagined. Alex was so strong, and yet, his touch could be feathery light. He was passionate but gentle.

  Isobel sighed and snuggled closer to him. She could stay like this forever, but dawn was fast approaching.

  “How do you feel this morn?” Alex asked.

  Isobel wondered how long he’d been awake; she never heard him stir. She tilted her head back so she could see his face. “I am well.”

  “I’m glad.” He kissed the top of her head.

  She could not help but smile. “And you, Crusader? How do you feel this morn?”

  “Your crusader is verra happy, lass.” He smiled then too, and Isobel’s heart fluttered.

  My crusader. There, on the forest floor, it was just her and Alex, and nothing else at all mattered in the world.

  I love him. The words felt so distant, but as she looked into his eyes they grew closer and closer. I love him. The realization felt overwhelming, for what if he did not love her?

  Isobel broke free of his arms and sat up, trying to hide her worry.

  “We should talk,” Alex said, as he sat up beside her.

  “There is nothing to discuss.” She did not want to hear him speak of his regret.

  “There is much to discuss, Isobel,” he said. “As you know, my clan is impove
rished. In truth, I do not know how severe the circumstances are.”

  “Alex, you don’t have to—” she began, but he raised his hand to silence her.

  “Isobel, please, let me explain,” he said, reaching out to take hold of her hand. “The marriage to the Angus bride was supposed to save my clan. While I did not see her, I did meet an Angus clansman in Kirkcaldy the night I received the missive from the king. The contract was dissolved during that meeting.”

  “Then why did you make it seem as though she was still your intended?” Isobel was confused. If the agreement was dissolved, why did he pretend otherwise? She was also struck by her own selfishness. She never gave one thought to his betrothed last night. The Angus woman may be his betrothed no more, but Isobel had not known that when she’d acted.

  “Because I felt something for you, and I knew I should not,” Alex said quietly.

  It wasn’t “I love you,” but with his hushed tone, she could tell he struggled to speak of his feelings. But why did he believe he should not care for her?

  “Because I told you I was intended for the church?” she asked.

  Alex nodded, but said, “Aye, that was part of it. The rest doesn’t matter now.” He squeezed her hand. “Isobel, I know I have little to offer you, but will you marry me?”

  When this journey began nearly two weeks ago, she could not have fathomed the struggles she would face. She’d killed a man in self-defense, stabbed Robbie MacDonald, and was abducted by two English soldiers. She’d also fought her own mind, finding easily how isolation could damage one’s soul, and how the physical world could punish and challenge when the comforts of civilization were removed. Yet, she had not complained, for she was on an adventure, something she had secretly craved in the luxurious confines of her life in David’s court. She was getting what she desired, if only for the briefest of times, and she would not decry it for anything.

  This experience was now giving her something she had not expected: the chance at a happy marriage. She loved him, and in time, his care for her could become love. This was not a marriage offer based on what he could gain from her, for he did not know that he could gain anything. Even if he assumed David would have set aside a dowry to be gifted to the church upon her taking the vows, it wasn’t likely he could have imagined the king’s generosity in that regard. David had endowed her with the same sum he had provided for his own flesh and blood. Isobel could help Alex’s clan.

  But what if his offer is only rooted in duty for taking my innocence? What if he can never love me? She could imagine nothing crueler than marriage to a man she loved but who did not love her in return.

  “Isobel?” Alex asked.

  “I will give you my answer when our mission to the king is done.”

  He frowned at her words, but said, “I think that is fair.”

  Isobel felt relief. He was not rushing her to commit to anything. She needed time to clear her head, and he needed to return to his family.

  “I will see you to the crossing at Fionnphort. MacKinnon soldiers are stationed there, and they will escort you to the prioress. When the Rood is safe, we will speak of what is between us.”

  Isobel agreed. After breaking their fast, Isobel and Alex gathered their belongings. Mounting their horses, they rode through the pink and yellow light of dawn to their journey’s end.

  Chapter 22

  Once Alex saw Isobel safely onto a boat with two MacKinnon soldiers for protection, he headed north, up the coastline of Mull, the short distance to his home. He coaxed his and Isobel’s horses into a gallop. She would have no use for the horse on Iona, so the mare was destined for the MacKinnons’ small stables. As he galloped away, he thought on what had passed between him and Isobel. Once he took her innocence, he knew what had to be done. While Alex was certain about precious few things, he knew he was a man of honor. He only wished he had something to offer her, besides uncertainty. Perhaps that is why she withheld her answer. He could not fault her for wanting time to think on his proposal. His clan’s circumstances did not leave him feeling ashamed, but he was anxious to see the true state of things for himself. His preview came at Fionnphort in meeting with the MacKinnon soldiers. The men said nothing of the clan’s situation, but their worn armor and weapons spoke clearly. Circumstances had not improved in his absence.

  As he rode along the rocky coastline, the wooden keep came into view. There, above the jagged red granite peaks, stood the dilapidated structure. It was as if time had stood still in his absence, preserving the keep just as it had been the day he left on Crusade.

  He approached the keep at midmorning where two soldiers met him at the gates.

  “I am Alexander MacKinnon,” Alex declared. “Open the gates.”

  The men exchanged surprised looks but did as he commanded. When the gates parted, he was greeted with an empty bailey. Where are the men? ’Tis midmorning. The men should be practicing their swordsmanship in the yard. Yet, no one was about. He walked the horses over to the stables, finding only one stable boy on hand.

  “Where is everyone?” he asked the lad, climbing down from the horse.

  “In the great hall, ridire.”

  “What is going on in the great hall?” he asked. The morning meal should have been well over by now.

  “They are in mourning. Our chief died yesterday.”

  The weight of the lad’s words crashed against him. He felt stunned, like he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. My father is dead.

  “Where are my sisters?”

  “Sisters?” The lad seemed confused. Realizing how young the boy was, Alex knew the lad had no idea he was the chief’s son. He introduced himself, then inquired about his sisters once more.

  “They might still be at the chief’s deathbed, ridire,” the boy said. “I mean, Chief.” He blushed and bowed his head, showing his embarrassment over how to address Alex.

  Alex then heard the boy’s stomach growl.

  “Have you eaten this morn?” he asked.

  The lad shook his head. “Nae, Chief.”

  Alex reached for his leather bag and sorted out a few biscuits and cheese. “Here lad. Eat, then tend to the horses.”

  “Thank ye, Chief.” The boy’s eyes lit up as he took the food.

  Alex felt angry with himself. I stayed away too long.

  He made his way into the keep, avoiding the great hall so he could speak with his sisters before announcing his return. He quietly walked up the back stairwell to the family’s quarters. He found two guards stationed outside his father’s room; he recognized one of them.

  “Alexander, ’tis ye!” the old man exclaimed, reaching out to clasp hands with him. His father’s most trusted servant and the head of the MacKinnon guard, Donald, was a welcome sight.

  “Aye, I am returned home.”

  “We are glad of it, laddie, but I fear ye are too late,” Donald said, solemnly. “The chief died yesterday afternoon.”

  Alex nodded. “Are my sisters with him?”

  “Aye. They wouldn’t let us take away the body until ye came back to see him.”

  “I’m sure that was Joan’s decision,” Alex said.

  “Oh, aye. She’s taken charge better than most men, I think. She’ll give ye hell, but yer other sisters will welcome ye.”

  It was as he expected. Joan was much like him. She would be the hardest to reconcile with.

  “I want to speak with you and the rest of my father’s council at midday.”

  “Things have gotten worse here in the last year,” Donald said. “I’m sorry for what ye have come home to, lad.”

  Alex nodded, though he felt like he should have been the one to apologize. How much have they all suffered in my absence?

  Donald and the other guard opened the door to his father’s chamber. There, kneeling around his father’s bed, were his three sisters: Joan, Anna, and Flora. Their heads were each bowed in prayer as his father, the chief, lay lifeless on the bed. Alex quietly approached them. He reached Flora, the young
est, first. When he’d left, she’d just seen her ninth summer. Now she was a young woman. She lifted her head as he rested his hand on her shoulder.

  “Alex!” she exclaimed, launching herself into his arms.

  His other sisters rose immediately, with Anna reaching for him too.

  “Alex, you’re home!” Anna wrapped her arms around him and Flora.

  As they all embraced, Alex looked to Joan. She stood still, at their father’s side, her face as expressive as uncut granite. Be patient with her, Alex. She has more reasons to be upset with you than most.

  “It is good to see all of you,” Alex said, still hugging Anna and Flora. “I am sorry I was not here when he passed.”

  “ ’Tis all right, Alex. You are here now. That is all that matters,” Anna said.

  “Aye, Brother. We are grateful you have returned to us,” Flora added.

  “We sent word of Father’s health months ago,” Joan said. “Why did it take you so long to return home?”

  “I could not obtain passage home sooner, Joan. I am sorry for it.” He broke the hug with his sisters and approached her.

  “But you sent word when you reached Edinburgh over a fortnight ago,” Joan said, rubbing her emerald pendant necklace. Alex recognized the jewelry. It had belonged to their mother.

  “I had business in Kirkcaldy,” he explained.

  “Oh, aye, and have you brought home the wealthy bride that is to save us all?”

  “Nae. That contract with the Angus is broken.”

  “If you weren’t making a marriage alliance, then pray tell us, brother, why did it take you so long to get home from Kirkcaldy?”

  “The late King David put me on a mission, which I just finished this morn.”

  “The late king?” Joan asked. “He is dead?”

  “Aye.”

  All of his sisters bowed their heads in respect. Joan was the first to speak again.

  “If you finished it this morn, did the mission have something to do with us?” Joan asked.

  “Nae,” Alex said. He could not tell them of the relic, and he did not want to lie. “ ’Tis naught for any of you to worry over.”

  He knew Joan was displeased with his response, but his sisters and the Rood were safer if he kept the true meaning of his mission a secret. Once he spoke to Isobel again, he would tell them of her and, he prayed, his impending marriage. If Isobel didn’t reject him because of his poverty, then he could see no reason for her to decline him.