Moonstone

by Olivia Stocum

  Rhiannon opened her eyes.

  “I will see you later.” Triona dragged her son off.

  Rhiannon turned to William, who was just approaching. “Ronan will be sleeping in the nursery tonight,” she said.

  “He does that frequently. It never lasts for long.”

  He sheathed his sword. His dark hair was in messy waves around his shoulders. As frustrated as he made her, his arms looked very inviting. She stood and stepped into them.

  “I’m finished here,” he said. “And I think we both need to get away. Let’s go to the loch.” He urged her back, taking his time to look her over. “Maybe I will jump in.”

  “Or you could just have me instead.”

  “Mo leannan.”

  She lifted her face. “Please.”

  “Maybe after I jump in the loch.”

  “Really? You will try?”

  He closed his eyes. His fingers tightened on her shoulders. “You willna let this go, will you?”

  “Why should I?”

  He looked at her with frustration. “We will talk about it.”

  “Talk? Talk about it?”

  She would do far more than talk. Eventually, he would give in to her.

  * * *

  William walked up to Rhiannon, perched on one of a dozen sandstone boulders that cleaved the rumpled, heath-coated ground. Her burgundy hair was blowing free and her cheeks teased pink by the breeze.

  He shook out his wet hair and she squealed, tucking her cloak tight to protect herself. “I didna think you’d really do it. You addled man.” She tossed his plaid at him.

  He caught and donned it, but left his shirt off. The water made the air feel warm by comparison. Then he pulled Rhiannon to her feet so that she was standing on the boulder.

  “You’re all wet,” she said.

  “If I make you cold, I’ll warm you again.” He looped his arms around her waist. Rhiannon drew him closer. William tugged her cloak aside and tucked his face against her.

  She combed her fingers through his hair, cradling him to her breasts. He liked the way the wind tangled her hair around him.

  “I wish you would,” she said. “This is not the kind of marriage I wanted for us.”

  William lifted his head “We could stay here tonight.”

  “We did not bring anything with us.”

  “I have my bow and my sword. We dinna need anything more than what we already have.”

  “I will stay,” she said. “As long as you promise to try.”

  It took him a moment to answer. Her brows arched in challenged. Then she bit down on her lower lip seductively. He knew she was doing it on purpose.

  “I will try,” he said.

  William let go of her and took up his bow. There was a stag grazing on the edge of the loch. “Dinner.” He pointed.

  “That can wait, can’t it?”

  He swooped her off the boulder and set her on the ground, then bent and caught her mouth beneath his. Tucking his hand in her hair, he tipped her face back. William tossed aside his bow and kissed her harder, Rhiannon receiving him without reservation. He knew she wanted so badly to feel unbridled. But he feared that she was pushing herself too hard.

  Maybe, if he could distract her enough first, it wouldn’t hurt her as much. Maybe part of the problem was that she wanted this too much, to the point where it made her tense up, causing her discomfort.

  “You have been driving me to madness,” she said.

  He pulled away and tucked her cloak back around her.

  “William,” she warned.

  “I’m feeding you first. Then we will continue this.”

  “You are stalling.”

  He took up his bow.

  “Coward!”

  He lifted his brows. “I dinna believe anyone has called me that before.”

  “Well, I will.”

  He nodded. “Seems to fit that it would be you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  William turned away, trying to decide how to tease her into the kind of pleasure she so badly needed, while keeping his own needs in check. She couldn’t wait much longer. And neither could he.

  * * *

  Rhiannon ate, mostly because she knew William would hound her until she had. Afterwards, she sat in silence with him, watching the fire spit ash into the night. The sun had long since set over the loch and a low mist had risen, coating the dark swells and hollows until they looked like ghosts dancing in the air.

  She shivered and William shifted closer. Rhiannon jostled for a comfortable position in the heath, her skin tight around her frustration. Finally, he slid her onto his lap. He’d put his shirt back on earlier and she tucked her hand inside it, seeking out his body heat. She tangled her fingers in his chest hair.

  His breath quickened, and she smoothed her palm over his rippled stomach.

  “Undress me,” she whispered. She pressed her palm against his chest and felt his heart pounding. “If you won’t, then I will.”

  She slipped out of her cloak, goose bumps pilling her skin. Then she unlaced her bodice and slipped out of it. Her sleeves came next. She reached for the ties on her stays and he stopped her.

  “You promised you would try,” she said.

  He untied the laces on her stays himself, Rhiannon ready to burst out of her skin.

  He lifted her to her feet, then removed her skirt and her petticoats. She shivered, her chemise offering little protection from the cold. William spread her cloak over the heath, then pulled off his shirt, unbelted his plaid, and wrapped it around her.

  She shook her head. “Take my chemise off first.” When he didn’t respond, she dropped his plaid and pulled off her undershirt.

  Her teeth chattering, she stood there naked before him, waiting, knowing he wouldn’t last very long.

  Rhiannon lifted her hand to him, and in the span of a single heartbeat, he closed in on her, his lips finding hers. She willed him on, exploring his mouth even as he did hers. Rhiannon bit his lips.

  He picked her up, laying her out on her cloak. Then took up his plaid and joined her, drinking her in with his eyes before pulling it over the both of them. She came willingly against him, no matter what the cost. The torture had to end. She wanted to feel what Triona did when Ronan carried her away, and she wanted it now. Using all her strength, she tried to pull him over her.

  “Wait,” he whispered, kissing her shoulders.

  “No more . . .” Her frustration melted as he kissed his way over her breasts. She found herself soaking it all in. She cradled his head against her stomach, needy, arching against him.

  “Rhiannon?”

  “Hmm . . .”

  “There is something that no one can ever force from you. Something that’s only for me.”

  She wasn’t sure what he was talking about. “What?”

  Then he kissed her, in places she’d never dreamed of. And she felt things she’d never known existed.

  And unfathomably, shaking from the mystery of it all, Rhiannon took William.

  * * *

  William watched Rhiannon standing on the bank of the loch, the sun rising in a yellow blur against gray clouds. Her hair was hanging in snarls down her back and her gown was haphazardly laced together. He couldn’t get over how beautiful she looked like that, especially with her tumbled red waves contrasted against the murky green of the loch water.

  As if she was a part of his world.

  As if he was a part of her.

  He was.

  And as much as he’d wanted that, he felt a familiar fear edging up his spine. It was that same coming-apart he’d experienced the night she’d miscarried.

  Rhiannon looked over her shoulder, smiled, then turned and scrambled onto a boulder. She held her hands out to him. “Are you just going to stand there?”

  “I’m coming.” William forced himself forward.

  Her smile faded and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “What’s wrong?”

  I canna lose you
. Ever.

  “Nothing.” He took her hands, lacing his fingers through hers. Her hands were cold. It was time to take her home. “Everything’s perfect.”

  She leaned closer, her face over his as she stood on the boulder. Her hair surrounded the both of them. It smelled more of morning air than ginger.

  “Right now, there’s something I want more than anything in the whole world.” She kissed him. “I want you.”

  And he gave her what she wanted. He probably always would, even if it shredded him to pieces inside.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Three Months Later

  Alice held Rhiannon’s hand while the midwife’s careful fingers probed her lower stomach.

  “You said you have not had your courses since the miscarriage?” Mora asked.

  “Aye. It has been four months now.”

  The midwife backed away. “I am finished.”

  Rhiannon sat up in bed. “Can you tell what is wrong just by feeling my stomach?”

  Mora smiled. Her riot of gray curls framed her face. “Aye, I can at that.”

  Rhiannon swung her legs over the side of the bed and watched the midwife riffle through her leather sack, anxiety twisting her insides.

  “Will she be all right?” Alice asked. “Can she . . .”

  Rhiannon looked over her shoulder at Alice. “You can say it.”

  “Have children,” Alice finished, her eyes apologetic. Alice and Connor had been married for a little over two months, and she was already with child. Alice seemed sorry for it, even though Rhiannon had told her several times not to be.

  Alice came around the bed, sitting next to Rhiannon. Mora turned and handed her a linen satchel.

  “’Take these herbs twice a day.”

  Rhiannon’s brow furrowed as she brought them to her nose. She pushed off the bed. “If I . . .” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “If I have lost my fertility, then tell me now. I know that a few herbs will make little difference.

  “Open your eyes.”

  She did. “Just tell me. I know something is wrong.”

  “Nothing is wrong. Ye are with child.”

  “I . . . What?”

  Mora nodded.

  “But there has been no sickness.”

  “Sometimes there is not.”

  She plopped her rump down on the bed. What?

  Alice laughed and wrapped her arms around Rhiannon. “This is perfect,” she said. “Perfect.”

  Rhiannon was too shocked to respond. She pated Alice on the back a couple of times.

  Alice’s enthusiasm began to fade. “What is the matter?” she asked.

  “Nothing. I just hadn’t expected this.”

  “The herbs will prepare ye for what is ahead,” Mora said.

  Rhiannon nodded, her gaze flicking to Mora. “When?”

  “About six months.”

  Her jaw slid open. She closed it again. “Did not take very long, did it?”

  Mora laughed, lifting her bag to her shoulder. “It seems I have a rash of babies on my hands.” She touched Rhiannon’s arm. “Best break it to him slowly, lass.”

  “You delivered my husband, aye?”

  “I did.”

  Rhiannon nodded. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? And yet, she was scared at the same time. She looked at Alice, who was watching her with concern.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  Mora went to the door and Rhiannon stood, following her.

  “I will be back to check on ye,” Mora said. “You know where to find me if ye should need anything.” Mora hugged her. Her head came to Rhiannon’s shoulder, so she hunched a bit to make it easier.

  Alice was next, squeezing Rhiannon so hard that she coughed from it. “Sorry,” Alice said. “I will be back later,” she whispered. “After you tell him.”

  They left, and Rhiannon stood just inside the doorway of her chamber in her chemise, gazing across the hallway at William. He was leaning back against the stone wall, arms folded across his chest, his gray eyes brooding.

  He had brooded a lot over the last three months, and Rhiannon felt like she couldn’t reach him anymore. Ever since that night at the loch, there had been a darkness about him that she didn’t understand.

  If anything, she’d expected the opposite from him. They had overcome what she thought was their greatest obstacle.

  And now they’d fallen into another one.

  “I am to take these.” She held up the satchel filled with herbs.

  Concern flicked his features, then they hardened again. Disappointed, Rhiannon turned and walked back into the chamber.

  William followed, closing the door. “Does she know what’s wrong?” he asked.

  “’Tis a baby, already three moons in the making.”

  You idiot man.

  Rhiannon turned to face him, praying he would look at her like he used to. Like she was precious to him.

  “But we thought . . .” He wouldn’t look at her at all, so she wasn’t able to read his expression.

  “We were wrong,” she said.

  Rhiannon waited for him to say something more, but he just stood there with his gaze trained on the floor. Rhiannon brushed past him and picked up her skirt, shaking it out. Her eyes burned and she blinked away her tears.

  William caught her arm. Then he urged her into him. She wanted him to promise her that everything would be all right, and to tell her that he loved her more than anything. But he was silent. She pressed her cheek against his neck and took whatever she could get from him, even if it was only his touch.

  “Do you not want an heir?” she asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  His tone of voice said, no, I do not.

  “Or maybe ’tis me you do not want.”

  “That isna true.” He cupped her face, then bent and kissed her with a sweetness that belied the hard look in his eyes. His fingers caressed her chin. There had been moments when he just touched her face, as if amazed that she now let him.

  William brushed his knuckles across her cheek, then lowered his hand and backed away.

  “I will be fine,” she said, more for herself than him. “Women have babies every day.”

  “Best be careful.” His voice was gritty. “You were this far along when you lost the last one.”

  “Yes, and we know why.”

  His hand closed around her wrist. “I willna sit and wait for you to bleed out again.”

  Was that what he feared? That he would lose her? “Will you forbid me to leave our chamber, like you did then? I thought we were going to your hall soon.”

  He raked his free hand over his face, the other still around her wrist. He wasn’t gripping hard enough to hurt her, but she had the feeling he wasn’t about to let go any time soon. “I will let my uncle know that we will be remaining.”

  “What of your clan?”

  “I can see to them from here.”

  “What example can you set for them from here?”

  “Rhiannon.” His jaw flexed and he finally let go of her wrist. “This is more important.”

  “You cannot control me.”

  “I am not trying to control you.”

  “You cannot control what happens to me either.” She chewed her lower lip. It no longer itched, but she couldn’t seem to break the habit now that it was there. “What is going on in your head?”

  “I dinna know what you’re talking about.”

  “You do. You just won’t tell me.”

  “I . . . I need to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “There are some things I need to attend to. I shall see you tonight.”

  She watched the door close behind him. Rhiannon took a goblet off the table, and threw it as hard as she could at the fire.

  * * *

  “You sent for me?” Rhiannon said, stepping into their chamber. Her cheeks were pink from her morning walk.

  “Aye.” William pushed back from his desk as she unpinned her cloak and hung it from a peg
on the wall. Her braided hair was piled atop her head, and she wore a pale green gown with an ivory kirtle beneath. When she neared, he took her by the hand and pulled her onto his lap. Her face was tight. He knew she’d been less than pleased with him of late. He couldn’t blame her either, but he didn’t know how to fix it.

  William hooked one arm around her to keep her on his lap, then slid a sheet of foolscap toward her. “Do you recognize this handwriting?”

  Her face lit. “Alec?” Her fingers traced his scroll on the parchment.

  “My men found him recovering.”

  She straightened, her gaze swiveling onto his. “Recovering?”

  “He has been ill since last year.” William watched her face, her eyes flicking from between the paper and him. “Alec suspects that he was poisoned in Jerusalem. He fell into a relapse in France.”

  “Poisoned.” Rhiannon’s lips formed the word, although no sound accompanied it.

  “I think you know who was likely responsible.”

  “It does seem rather coincidental, that Alec would be poisoned around the same time my parents were murdered.”

  “My men are with him now,” he said. “And according to Alec’s missive, he is well enough to continue on with them.”

  “He is coming here?”

  “Aye, for a time. But there is more.” He tucked stray hairs behind her ear, not wanting to tell her the rest, knowing that he needed to. “I have also received word that Reginald made it back to Hanover, alive.”

  Her fingers worked the parchment, trembling. “’Tis just as well, I suppose. Alec can take the land back from Reginald himself.”

  “I should accompany your brother, to make sure he has no trouble reclaiming his estate.”

  “You are leaving me?”

  “For no longer than I have to.”

  “I want to go with you.”

  “Nay.”

  “But you could be gone for months.”

  He eased her off his lap. Rhiannon sank onto the window seat.

  “You won’t be here when the baby comes,” she said.

  His pulse flared protectively, and he reminded himself again that there was nothing he could do to keep her safe when her time came.