‘So you have everything you ever wanted,’ she said. ‘So go back to it all.’
‘Ah, lass. It must have been your prayers for my wicked soul, for once I had everything in my grasp, I realised that the one thing, the one person I wanted most, was lost to me.’ He reached out to stroke her cheek with his hand, sliding it until he cupped her face.
‘He wants me to marry. He wants me to continue my excellent work as his man, so he can order me to wherever he needs someone to see to his interests.’ He smiled then. ‘I did not reveal Alan’s part in discovering the truth behind the attacks, but Brodie knows and will offer him an appropriate reward.’
‘So who does the King wish you to marry?’ she asked in spite of telling herself not to. This would not end well and would lead to pain and heartbreak for her.
‘My cousin Alex was right—Sinclair’s daughter is frightening, so I refused. But I told my godfather that there was the perfect woman for me. One who tried to knock me out with a cooking pot when I tried to seduce her. One who stole my purse and my dagger. One who listened when I needed to talk and prayed for my wicked soul. One who eased my pain and saved my life. One who loved me...’
He stepped closer and smiled, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers. ‘Well, the King said then I’d better stake my claim and marry her before someone else did. He especially liked the part about the cooking pot the best, I think.’
She laughed in spite of herself and in spite of the tears pouring down her face now. Then she looked at him, meeting his gaze for the first time and seeing the love there.
‘So, my love, which will it be? Do I kidnap you, seduce and plunder you until you agree to marry me?’ He leaned in to whisper to her, ‘I promise to make the plundering very pleasant for you.’ He leaned back.
She began to speak but he shook his head and put his finger over her lips. Fia loved the merriment in his eyes and in his temperament. She’d wondered if it was only him acting the rogue before, but now recognised that it was part of his true nature. At his words, that damned unrelenting hope within her heart stirred, waking up those silly, girlish dreams once more.
‘Or do we go to the chapel and marry first? I might live to get to the seducing and plundering part that way.’
He touched his eye and she noticed the bruise there. If Brodie had landed his blow on Niall’s jaw, how had his eye been injured? At her frown, he said, ‘Your father felt ’twas his place to answer my previous insult to your honour. I did not think he would do it so vehemently.’
‘I saved you once, my black-haired man,’ she began. ‘I do not want to see my hard work go for naught. If everyone decides to protest your ruination of me, you may not survive it.’ She watched the love in his gaze grow. ‘And I have yet to be truly and completely ruined.’
‘I could see to that for you, Fia.’ She laughed at his offer.
‘I think I will take marriage, then ruination.’
He stared at her without speaking or breathing or moving and a seed of doubt entered her thoughts. Then, he grabbed her and kissed her until they were both breathless.
‘I thought you, as the good, obedient lass you are, would take that choice. Come...’ he mounted the horse she had not even seen and held out his hand ‘...they are waiting for us.’
‘And your mother? Your sister? Are they well?’
‘Aye. Better than I knew. You will meet them soon enough.’
He pulled her up behind him and touched his feet to the horse’s side, urging it on. Fia slid her arms around him then, laying her face on his back. Could this be happening? Could they truly be together?
As it turned out, aye, they could.
* * *
He was more nervous now than when he’d asked her to marry him or when they spoke their vows. Hell, he was more nervous now than when he’d demanded the King allow him to marry her.
Now, he stood in the doorway of the chamber and stared at...his wife. Beautiful, intelligent, thoughtful, funny, loving, headstrong Fia was now his. And those damn scruples that had kept him from claiming her could go to hell now.
‘You look nervous,’ she said, smoothing the bedcovers over her legs. Though the sheets were pulled up high, he knew she wore nothing under them. His cock rose, knowing the loveliness of her curves, the taste of her skin and the sounds she would make when he pleasured her.
And, oh, he planned on pleasuring her.
‘I am a bit,’ he admitted as he walked in and closed the door behind him. The chamber smelled of heather and roses from the preparations made by Fia’s mother and Arabella. ‘I have never plundered my wife before.’ She smiled, a wicked one by his measure, and one brow edged up.
‘Does this plundering take long?’
He laughed then. Niall had never expected to find such joy in his marriage bed or even marriage. He loved seeing the frank desire in her gaze as she looked at him. He loved that she did not hide it from him.
He loved...her.
‘If you wish, it can take as long as you’d like,’ he offered. ‘As long as you do as I say.’
‘Then, Husband, come in and let the plundering begin.’
She lifted the sheets and exposed her naked body to him. His flesh ached to be within her. When she opened her legs, he gave up trying to be noble and patient. He dropped the long robe he wore and climbed on to the bed. Fia reached out to touch him and he shook his head.
‘Nay. If you touch me, ’twill be over.’
‘Niall?’ she asked, sliding on to her knees before him. ‘I may have promised to obey and submit, but I am not sure I can do that.’ She reached out and touched his flesh, sliding her hand around him and stroking him.
He tried to say something humorous back to her and could not think of a single thing. So, he leaned over and kissed her as he’d wanted to do for the last month.
She softened under his lips and he pulled her into his arms, their bodies touching, his flesh cradled by her belly. Fia opened to him as she always did, fully welcoming him. He eased her down on to the bed and knelt over her, kissing her mouth, her face, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts and down and down until he reached the curls at the juncture of her legs.
Her body trembled and shifted beneath his attentions until she relaxed her legs and he moved between them. Lifting one over his shoulder, he pressed his mouth against her most intimate flesh, tasting the very essence of her and stroking her until she thrust her hips in rhythm with his tongue.
She tousled his hair, tangling her fingers in it and holding him there. She was close, very close, to finding satisfaction and he wanted to within her, to feel her body tighten and then shudder its release.
‘Fia,’ he said, sliding up her body and kissing her mouth. ‘I want to be in you.’ All she did was gasp against his mouth with each touch.
He moved his hand where his mouth had been, stroking and rubbing, harder, faster, deeper each time. Then he placed his flesh there and moved into her. Pushing slowly, he eased in and slid back. She was tight, so very tight, and her woman’s flesh held him snugly. Niall lifted her knees and slid his hand beneath her hips.
‘I love you, Fia Mackintosh,’ he whispered as he seated his flesh all the way in her, making her his and his alone. He paused, controlling the urge to thrust again until she became accustomed to him there. When her hips shifted, he pulled back and thrust in again.
It was killing him to wait but he would do whatever he must to ease her way.
‘Why did you stop?’ she whispered, wrapping her hands around his buttocks and pulling him in close.
He gave up the fight and took her. With a hand under her bottom, he guided her movements, allowing him in as deep as he could get. Shallow quick breaths told him she was near to her peak. She matched him now, thrust for thrust until he felt her tighten around him. Her body arched and she moaned out as her
release was upon her. Niall kissed her, open-mouthed, tongue teasing tongue, as he felt his cock harden and thicken in readiness.
And then, his release began, his seed filling her depths and his own body reaching satisfaction.
’Twas some time before their breathing slowed and their bodies relaxed. Niall remained within her, rolling them to their side and holding her close.
‘Are you well?’ he asked quietly, kissing her forehead. ‘Was I too rough?’ Though he had pleasured her before, he had never entered her like this.
‘I am well, though a bit sore,’ she admitted. Leaning back, she met his gaze. ‘I had not realised how much more there was to this plundering. I might not have threatened you with the cooking pot if I had known.’
He laughed then and held her close. She softened against him and her breathing became slow and even. Just when he thought her asleep, she whispered once more.
‘I might have even plundered you back.’
Lucky man that he was, she did just that for him later in the night.
Epilogue
Crieff, one year later...
‘Hurry, lads!’ Mistress Murray called out to Tomas and Munro. ‘Clear the yard and be quick aboot it!’
A man came ahead and said his master and mistress, wealthy persons, he said, a lord and lady travelling through Crieff, needed a place to eat and freshen themselves on their journey to Edinburgh. He offered her coins, gold ones, if she would have a room and a meal ready for them. Said they’d heard of her inn and her food and wanted to see it for themselves.
Shock quickly turned to excitement for her as she realised what this could mean to her business. If she were known to the wealthy and noble travellers, her inn would never be empty. Her purse would overflow. This was her chance.
‘Peigi, is the stew hot? The bread in the oven?’ she called out as she walked through the dining room once more, cleaning the tops of the tables with her apron and searching for the broom for one more sweep.
‘Aye, Mistress Murray,’ the girl called out. ‘When will they be here?’
‘They will be here when they get here,’ she answered, accepting the spoon of beef-and-vegetable stew from the maid. She blew on its several times and then tasted it. She took a pinch of this and a little of that and tossed it in the pot. ‘Stir it and keep it warm now,’ she directed. ‘And dinna let the bread burn!’
The sound of horses and people arriving in the yard brought her rushing to the door. The lads ran to grab the bridles of the horses while the lord helped the lady climb down.
They were dressed in fine clothing, gowns and tunics like she imagined the nobles wore to meet the King. The lady’s long hair was braided and dressed with ribbons through it. The lord held out his hand and escorted her to the door. Mistress Murray dropped as far down as her bad knees would allow to greet them.
‘My lord,’ she said nodding at the man. ‘My lady. Come and be welcome at The Hen and The Loaf.’ They followed her within and she led them to the best table in the inn. ‘Would ye like ale or wine mayhap while I bring yer meal?’
‘Aye, Mistress Murray,’ the lord said. ‘That would be fine. Fia, would you prefer wine or ale?’
Fia? Why, that was the name of the lass who’d stayed here a year or so before, tending to a man she’d claimed was her brother. Brother and sister, my arse, she’d thought when they arrived. And, she was right.
‘Ale, if you please,’ the woman answered, placing a hand on her belly. Her pregnant belly.
She looked up at them now and gasped. ’twas them! Here in her inn, dressed as fine as she’d ever seen. How could it be?
‘Mistress Murray, how do you fare?’ the lord asked. His name was...was...Iain. And when they’d left he was most certainly not a lord.
‘I am well, my lord,’ she said, still trying to figure this out.
Peigi carried the bowls of stew and steaming bread in from the kitchen then. Mistress Murray stood back and watched as they sat at the table and Peigi placed everything before them. She poured ale into her best mugs and placed them where they could reach them.
‘Niall,’ the lady said. ‘Tell her.’
’Twas definitely the couple who had stayed in her back chamber, while he recuperated from a terrible beating. He nearly died, he did, and she had helped the lass nurse him back to health.
‘I know you had your suspicions when we stayed here, but you were always kind to my wife,’ he said. Reaching inside his cloak, he took out a purse. ‘We came to bring this back to you,’ he explained as he handed it to her.
When they’d left, she’d worried over the lass. So, she’d gathered a few coins and gave them to her in case she needed to escape him. Now, the purse was filled and not just with copper or silver coins, but gold ones.
‘You saved my life, Mistress Murray,’ he said. Lifting the lady’s hand, he kissed the back of it. ‘And you gave comfort and protection to my wife when she had no one else. For that, I am grateful.’ She held the fat purse in her hand, estimating how much it contained.
‘You gave us refuge when we had none,’ the lady said. ‘If you have need of anything, send to us in Edinburgh.’
‘Thank ye, my lord, my lady,’ she said, overwhelmed by their generosity and her good fortune. ‘Yer man asked aboot the room?’
‘Could the lads see to my men? Food and drink for them while they wait?’ the lord asked.
Then, he guided the lady to her feet and escorted her back to the corridor and to the room they’d shared. Did they mean to rest? The bed linens were clean, put on just before they’d arrived so they could. She followed them part way down and then stopped when he closed the door behind them.
Laughter echoed from within the chamber and she could hear them talking. Then, the sounds became something else and she went back to the kitchen, shooing the lads and Peigi in front of her. She put stew in wooden bowls and had Peigi take them outside to the men who escorted the couple.
* * *
It took some time, about as much time as it took for the lord and lady to return from the chamber down the corridor. Her hair was different than when they left, the ribbons gone from her braid and her laces looser than before. His cloak was askew and his hair a mess.
They laughed all the way out into the yard and, when he lifted her back on to her horse, the lord stopped and kissed the lady thoroughly on lips already swollen from other kisses, she could tell.
‘My thanks for such a good meal and for such a warm and inviting place,’ the lord said. She smiled at the way he said it loud enough that her neighbours and any travellers on the road could hear it.
‘Thank you, Mistress Murray,’ the lady said. ‘For all you did for my husband and me.’
They began to guide their horses away when she called out.
‘Your names, my lord? My lady?’ She only knew them by the false names they’d used a year ago.
‘This is Lord Niall Corbett, the Earl of Kelso, Mistress Murray,’ their man said as he handed her another purse in payment for their meals...and use of the room. ‘And his wife, Fia Mackintosh.’
‘Good day to ye both,’ she called out as they left. She and Peigi and the lads watched as they rode off towards the south road and then she turned to go back inside.
Husband and wife, eh? Lord and lady? Mistress Murray tucked the purse inside her tunic and thanked the Almighty for her good fortune.
‘Brother and sister, my arse,’ she said aloud.
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this story,
you won’t want to miss these other
great reads in Terri Brisbin’s
A HIGHLAND FEUDING mini-series
THE HIGHLANDER’S RUNAWAY BRIDE
STOLEN BY THE HIGHLANDER
Keep reading for an excerpt from MISTAKEN FOR A LADY by Carol Townend.
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Mistaken for a Lady
by Carol Townend
Prologue
October 1175—Paimpont Manor
in the County of Champagne
KIDNAPPED BY THE HIGHLAND ROGUE Page 22
