by Alisa Adams
* * *
One evening she was desperately trying to fend off the attention of a portly young baron who had about the same level of intelligence as her tame rat and was just as attractive. She wished she’d had a cage big enough to put him in.
"Could you get me another glass of wine, sir?" she asked him politely. "I am feeling a trifle thirsty."
"Of course, mistress." He bowed over her hand and departed.
Graham, who had seen her look of utter helplessness, approached her swiftly and took her by the arm into a secluded corner of the hall.
"Thank you," she breathed out gratefully, "I thought I would die of boredom and the smell of his sweat!"
"He's infamous for his smell!" Graham laughed. "But he will be one of the richest men in the Highlands when he comes into his inheritance. His name is Baron Alan Ross of Braemar. He owns estates all over the Highlands and on the Isle of Skye. They say it will be a very lucky lass who marries him!"
Lorraine shuddered.
"There are some things that money cannot buy. Intelligence and a thoughtful, loving disposition spring to mind. As well as the ability and inclination to wash occasionally!"
Graham threw back his head and laughed, which unfortunately attracted the attention of the gentleman in question.
He zoomed in on his prey like a raptor to the kill and Lorraine groaned.
"He's seen me," she said with despair.
Graham spoke grimly, but there was a twinkle in his eye: "Don't worry."
He stepped forward to introduce himself.
"Good evening, milord," he said, bowing and smiling. "My beloved has been telling me how charming you have been to her during my unfortunate absence. Thank you indeed, sir, and I apologize for my lateness!"
The baron handed Lorraine her wine.
"Good evening, sir." He looked flustered and ill at ease. "And you are?"
"Begging your pardon, milord." Graham smiled. "I am Graham Hamilton, heir to the Hamilton estate in Gairloch. I have heard a lot about you."
"All good, I hope?" The baron was beginning to allow flattery to win him over.
"Indeed." Graham raised a glass to him. "Your exploits in the Highland games are legendary! To your good health, sir! Slàinte Mhath!"
In fact, the baron had never participated in a sporting event in his life – being far too fat, lazy and fond of whiskey and women – but he kept a team of fine young athletes to do it for him.
They drank, and Lorraine kept her gaze on the floor, trying not to laugh.
"And the lovely Lady Lorraine is your betrothed?" There was a definite note of disappointment in the baron's voice as he looked at her.
"Yes, milord," she replied happily. "We are to be married in the spring."
"Why did you not tell me earlier?" The baron frowned and looked at Lorraine accusingly, as if to say, 'I would not have wasted my time on you.'
"Because milord did not give me the chance!" she replied.
That, at least, was an honest answer. From the moment he had first engaged her in conversation, she had been unable to utter more than a word or two. The baron obviously enjoyed the sound of his own voice.
The noble gentleman looked around the room and suddenly espied another young lady.
"Ah, I see another old friend over there," he said with haste. "Pray excuse me!"
Lorraine almost fainted with relief.
They moved outside the Great Hall, then sat down in a chair beside the wall.
"My God." Her voice was trembling. "I really was afraid that he was going to suggest courting me or worse! Thank you, Graham. I am forever in your debt!"
Then she turned her head and laid her cheek against his shoulder, breathing deeply.
He could not believe how much the encounter had affected him. He buried his face in her glossy, sweet-smelling hair, and held her for a while till she calmed down a little.
When she looked up, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for her to tilt her face up to his, and for him to bend and touch his lips to hers.
Lorraine had never felt a kiss like it before. Gregor's had been strong and passionate, but never gentle, and she had no idea that there was any other way to do it.
His mouth, gentle as a whisper, moved on hers in a way that made something inside her stir with longing. She felt the tip of his tongue brush over her lower lip then he pulled away from her, leaving her feeling bereft.
They looked into each other’s eyes, and Graham smiled.
"I know I should be sorry I did that," he said fondly, "but I wanted to since the first minute I saw you tonight."
"Why should you be sorry?" Lorraine cupped her hand around his face, stroking his cheek with her thumb. "I am not sorry. Not one bit."
He leaned his forehead against hers, one golden brown head against another.
"Do you think we could make each other happy?" he asked, hopeful. "After all, we have known each other for a long time."
"What about Alexa? Is she truly out of your heart?"
He sighed. "Alexa was a challenge. Like taming a falcon. She is selfish – not in a bad way, because she will tell you so herself – and needs no one else to make her happy. I do. You do. We both need someone else to complete ourselves. Do you understand?"
Lorraine felt as though the sun had come out after a long darkness as she gazed into his soft hazel eyes.
"I do, and Gregor is out of my heart too." She looked up at him, waiting.
"Then since we both have empty hearts." He smiled. "Shall we fill each other’s?"
Tears sprang to Lorraine's eyes.
"Yes," she whispered. "But please do not let us wait till spring. I want to spend Yuletide with you and bring in the new year in your arms, and this time a year hence I want to be carrying your baby."
Graham pulled Lorraine to her feet and wrapped his arms around her as tightly as he could.
"Who could foresee that this would happen?" he asked in wonder. "When we came here tonight to celebrate a betrothal we would end up having one of our own? Life is strange."
Lorraine marveled that her previous betrothal, which had felt so intensely passionate, now seemed like a distant memory, even though it had ended so recently. She remembered thinking that there would never be anyone for her but Gregor, and she had never been so glad to be wrong.
Lorraine stood in the circle of Graham's arms and sent out a prayer of thanks to the God of love, who had seen fit to bless her once more.
Graham was thinking the same thing as he held this warm and loving woman in his arms. How could anyone have thought her stupid? She would be a wonderful wife and a loving mother, and attentive to all his needs. Something about the way she held him and the way his body was responding to her told him that she would be an inspiring partner in the bedchamber too. No man could wish for more.
"When shall we be married?" she whispered with eagerness.
"As soon as we can arrange it. We can do it very quietly if you wish."
"I don't want to wait for us to be together." She looked up into his face, and her eyes were full of meaning. "I want us to be man and wife now."
"You mean – make love?" he asked, incredulous.
"This castle has many rooms," she replied mischievously. "And servants can be bribed!"
He looked down at her and laughed.
"You wanton woman!"
"Indeed, I am!" Lorraine laughed. "And I will make you glad of it!"
"But…" Graham sighed. "I think our first time together should be one of love and in a quiet place where we need not be afraid that someone finds us. And I want to see you – see what you look like when I undress you, Lorraine. Can you not wait?"
She nodded, but he could see that she was disappointed.
"I am flattered that you find me so desirable!" He laughed. "But I am just as impatient as you are. I will find a place for us to be alone. After all, I have a castle with about a hundred bedrooms in it, and we only need a little one, do we not?"
"Yes," she
breathed out and kissed him again. "Just you, me, and a bed."
He growled. "I can't wait."
26
Mairi and Davie
About a month after the raid on the Sutherland lair, the Elliotts had to make some deliveries of vegetables and other produce in the area. Davie harnessed the horse to the cart and set off, dreaming about Mairi all the way along the road.
She had hardly left his mind since the day she came to the farm to identify her father. Everything about her stirred him – her strength and anger, even her weakness when she collapsed into his arms.
And oh, she was beautiful, with her deep eyes that were almost black, her strong features and lips that were the color of ripe plums. When he'd held her, he could almost put both hands around her waist. Compared to all the other girls he'd met, she was completely, intensely different, and in a league of her own.
Somehow, he could never imagine her delivering turnips, but he could imagine her bearing his child.
The closer he got to the castle, the more his nervousness increased till he almost turned back at the gate.
The guards had seen him, though, so he had to go on, telling himself that he was being stupid. What was he afraid of? He would likely not see her anyway.
But he did.
Crossing the courtyard to lead his cart to the storeroom entrance, he spied her passing him. She was talking to one of the kitchen maids and not looking in his direction, so he had a chance to look at her.
Her abundant hair was tied back in a knot at the top of her head, and her long, swan-like neck emerged from the round neck of a plain brown dress. Her face was animated, and she was laughing at something the other girl was saying. He felt breathless.
"Mairi," he heard his own voice coming out as a squeak.
She turned quickly, and as soon as she saw him, her face lit up in a wide, joyous smile.
"Davie!" She came forward to meet him, stretched out her hands and clasped his tightly. "I thought I widnae see ye again!"
"I can go if ye want me tae." He laughed.
"I'm that glad tae see ye!" She shook her head a little and kissed his cheek. "Whit brings ye here?"
He indicated to the cart with a jerk of his thumb.
"Aboot half a ton o' turnips an' a couple o' gallons o' honey!" He smiled at her and began to unload the turnips into the storeroom, a vast, dark place with wooden shelves.
To his surprise, Mairi began to help him, scooping up armloads of the vegetables and depositing them on the shelves with no apparent effort.
She caught him looking at her.
"I'm a farm girl an' all, ye knaw!" she pointed out, almost indignant at his surprise.
When they had taken the vegetables out, they carried the stone jars of honey into the kitchen between them. The kitchen maids and cooks all knew Davie, but the story of Hector Sutherland staying in his house was something that was not going to go away quickly. Even though everyone was eager to hear every gory detail, Davie kept them away.
One of the kitchen maids, Isla, fetched them some ale then ushered them into a little private scullery beside the kitchen. Davie sat at the table listening to the story of Mairi 's bleak childhood. He wept with her, and he put his arm around her waist as she relived some of the worst parts – when she saw little Sam being beaten and heard her mother being raped in the bedroom.
When she got to the bit where her mother died, she broke down completely and could not speak.
"That wis when I hated him the most," she said with bitterness after she had calmed down. "An’ when I saw him disappearing doon the trapdoor at the hanging, I felt nothin'. In fact, this is the first time I've done ony greetin' at all."
And indeed, it was.
Mairi had felt happy once or twice when her mind was distracted from her father, but this was the first time all her misery had been allowed to come up and overflow. She felt a hundred times better now that her burden had been shared. She had not wanted sympathy, but she knew now that it was not a terrible thing after all, and now she realized that she had Davie too.
He was not offering her sympathy, but support, a shoulder to lean on when she needed it. She did not need someone to tell her that things would be all right, but that he was there if they were not.
There was just one thing wrong – trust.
After the traumatic childhood she’d had, and watching how her father treated her mother and her siblings, how could she ever trust any man?
Davie did not want to leave her. Her eyes were red, and her face was tear-stained. She was obviously purging years and years of misery, and he suspected that it would take a long while before it had all washed out of her soul.
He sat with her while she sipped a little ale, and presently, she drew away from him a little.
"Are ye better now, lass?" he asked softly.
She smiled at him, tremulous.
"Aye, Davie. I will get better now. I could forget before fer a wee while during the day – but at night-times it wis terrible. I think it will all be better now. I dinnae knaw why, but I feel lighter."
He smiled at her, then stood up.
"I have tae go," he said with regret, looking down at her hand, which he was holding in his. "May I come an' see ye again, Mairi?"
She frowned and sighed.
"Davie," she replied heavily, "ye knaw my story. I will find it very hard tae trust ony man at all. It's no' you, but me." She sighed again. "My faither has damaged me and all my brothers an' sisters. We might never get better. So, if ye want tae come an' see me – can we jist be friends? For the moment?"
His face fell at once, but immediately he changed it to a bright smile. He could settle for friendship for now and build trust. It was a start.
"Of course, Mairi. An' if ye ever feel like bein' somethin' mair, I will be here."
He bent down and kissed her cheek, then he climbed onto the cart again, and with a cheerful wave, he was gone.
Mairi stood looking after him. She felt wonderful.
Davie, although disappointed, knew that he could find many more excuses to visit the castle. There were always things to be delivered, always services to be done – he could make himself almost indispensable!
And although he had never been a very frequent churchgoer, that could change. From now on, Davie Elliott could become very devout! The parish of St Finian's would be seeing a lot more of him from now on, sitting very close to the seat of Mairi Sutherland!
When he had done his work for the day and got back home, his tea was almost ready.
Leana Elliott looked at him carefully, frowning in thought.
"Ye look different this day, my boy," she stated firmly, as she placed a plate of mutton stew and bannocks before him. "Ye look very happy!"
"Mammy – should I no' look happy?" He laughed. "Wid ye rather I looked miserable?"
Aidan and Jack exchanged glances, grinning.
"There is a woman in this somewhere!" Aidan warned, shaking his head, pretending to caution him. "Be canny, brither! That is the slippery slope that leads tae love. Then, before ye knaw it, it's marriage an' six bairns!"
He looked fondly at his two little girls, Isla and Etta, sitting between him, and his wife, Ina.
"Who's the lassie, Davie?" Leana asked.
"Mairi Sutherland."
Davie waited for the storm.
There was dead silence for a moment.
"Davie – she comes from bad seed, son," Leana warned.
"Mammy," he replied, "she hated her faither. She is gentle an' kind. They hanged her father two weeks ago an' her mither died o' the treatment she got at the hauns o' that monster, so if onyone wants tae say a word against him, it will be naethin she hasnae said hersel'. Onyway, we're just friends – because that's the way she wants it. She is too scared o' men for onything else. Let it take its own course."
Jack and Leana looked at each other, but it was clear that neither of them was happy.
27
Lorraine and Graham
"G
raham?" Alexa asked in disbelief. "My Graham?"
She was standing in front of the fire with Moira, Mairi, and Lorraine, all industriously busy with their cross-stitch, and her mouth was open in a wide 'O' of astonishment.
"Not yours anymore!" Lorraine laughed. "He is mine now – in every way!"
* * *
"You mean?" Moira was shocked. "In every way?"
Lorraine nodded happily.
"Every way possible." She giggled.
"But what if—" Mairi began.
"If I get with child?" Lorraine smiled mischievously. "We are betrothed and will be married as soon as we can. I don't care if I'm already with child, ladies; in fact, I hope I am because I have never been so happy!"
Alexa was happy for her. But now all eyes would be on Gregor and on her, just about the only eligible bachelor and spinster left. Neither was in a hurry. Neither wanted to settle down and have children, especially not Alexa. It was strange that it had never occurred to her that this was because she had never met the right person. Marriage was submission and entrapment – and it ruined your figure!
She laughed as she walked out into the raw cold. She was almost nineteen years old, and soon her marriage prospects would become fewer and fewer. Over the age of twenty, she would be too old for any decent man to look at twice – so much the better!
* * *
A few days earlier…
* * *
"Lady Lorraine!" Graham's hazel eyes were full of mischief as he met Lorraine in the courtyard of his castle. "It's good to see you again!"
She looked up at him helplessly, but every bit of her was aching with desire for him.
He kissed her fingertips, and whispered, "Are you ready now, my precious?"
"Very much so," she replied with a teasing smile. The pupils of her eyes were large and dark, betraying her need of him.
They walked side by side in a friendly fashion so that they should not give themselves away, then went by a circuitous route up to a guest suite that was rarely used.
