Highland Angel

by Hannah Howell

  "Bonded,” she said. “I can see it. It works that way sometimes."

  "Aye. The others are nay the same. Moira and Robbie have each other right now. It may change. And, if they want to be with me and my Alice, weel, we will be glad to have them. My Alice will love them hard, she will. Callum is set for better things, I am thinking."

  "Ye have found out more about his parentage?"

  "Some, and Payton is speaking to Sir Bryan MacMillan. ‘Tis nay him, but once Payton told him the lad looked so much like young Uven they could be twins, Sir Bryan kenned they were talking of a MacMillan. They breed true, ye see, and there are few who look like them."

  "But, there are none of the mother's kin left?"

  "None worth mentioning. Truth is, they would do the lad more harm than good. They kenned the lad was alone and wanted naught to do with him. ‘Tis best he has naught to do with them."

  "Quite right.” She shook her head. “I dinnae think I will e'er understand such things."

  "Nay. I got the lad's grandfather and uncle to tell me all they kenned, then thanked them as they deserved and left."

  There was a look upon Ian's harsh face that told her he had meted out a little retribution on Callum's behalf. “'Tis their loss. Do ye want me to speak to Robbie, Moira, and Callum?"

  "If ye could. I think ye would be better at making them understand that we but wait for them to make a choice. And assure Callum that I will keep training him nay matter what."

  "Ye have been good for him.” She smiled when he blushed slightly. “I can see the pride growing in him."

  "Aye, weel, I think I will tell my Alice that she can stop trying to nay love the wee lads too much.” He started toward the door leading to the garden, then paused. “He doesnae think of ye as just one of his women, ye ken."

  Kirstie felt a blush heat her cheeks, for there was no mistaking who he spoke of. “He is a rogue."

  "Oh, aye. A pretty lad like that could be naught else. The lasses have been sighing o'er him ere his voice deepened.” He shrugged. “A free mon will take what is offered, aye? ‘Tis the way of men."

  "I am nay offering."

  "I ken it and there is the puzzle. The lad has ne'er set after a lass like this before."

  "Probably ne'er had to,” she grumbled, irritated by the mere thought of how easily women fell into Payton's bed.

  "Nay,” Ian said and briefly grinned at her. “So, if ‘tis so verra easy for him to get some loving, why is he making himself half mad chasing after a wee lass who keeps saying nay?"

  "Because I do say nay?"

  He chuckled. “Could be. I dinnae ken and I willnae try to. My Alice looked at me and I looked at her and that was that. We kenned we were mates. I daren't e'en try to guess what is going on between ye and Payton. All I wish to say is, if ye fret o'er what me and Alice might think, ye can stop. Whether ye keep saying nay or say aye, it matters naught to us. Ye willnae shame yourself in our eyes if ye grab yourself a wee bit of pleasure. As my Alice says, after five years of hell, ye deserve some. Do as your heart bids, lass, and dinnae fret so over the rest."

  "I think it might be wise if I try verra hard to nay let my heart lead me this time."

  "Mayhap. I just wanted ye to ken that my Alice and I willnae care if ye do or ye dinnae."

  "Thank ye. Now, go. Make your Alice happy."

  The moment he left, she peeked out the window. It was easy to see by the way the little boys rushed to his side that it was not only Alice they loved. She watched Ian pull his wife aside, bend down, and speak to her. Alice's eyes widened, then she flung herself into her husband's arms. Kirstie saw the look on Ian's face, watched him pat his wife's back a little awkwardly, and suspected she was crying. Deciding to give them some privacy, she turned around, only to find Payton walking toward her. By the time she thought to move, he had her pinned against the table set beneath the window, his hands set down on either side of her, and he was looking out the window over her shoulder.

  "What is going on out there?” he asked, nestling himself between her legs and inwardly smiling when her breath caught.

  Hearing the squeals of three excited little boys, Kirstie replied, “Ian just told Alice and the lads that they are now a family.” She leaned away from him as far as the table would allow when he looked at her.

  "Ian finally worked up the courage to ask ye, did he?"

  "Aye, although I dinnae ken why he needed courage to do so. I am nay so fearsome."

  "He didnae want to hear a nay. I understand how he felt.” He kissed her before she could respond. “Thank ye."

  "For what?” she asked, struggling to regather her wits, scattered by the heat of his kiss.

  "For giving Ian and Alice such a fine gift."

  "The children did that. They chose. It really wasnae my decision to make."

  "Aye, it was."

  He placed his lips against the rapid pulse point on her slim throat. Payton put his hand on her tiny waist and slid it upward to cover her breast, feeling the hard tip of it against his palm despite the clothing sheltering it. At the same time he pressed his groin hard against her, moving in a faint mimicry of the act he craved. The soft noise she made was sweet music to his ears. Something between a gasp and a trembling sigh, it heralded her desire for him.

  "Do ye ken what I want, lass?” he murmured and stroked the life-giving vein in her throat with his tongue.

  "Ye have made it most clear what ye ask of me, but..."

  "I want to push up these petticoats, spread these bonny white thighs, and bury myself deep within your warmth."

  "Jesu,” she whispered and realized she was nearly panting. She also realized he was slipping a hand beneath her skirts, but she could not seem to grasp the willpower to stop him. “Ye shouldnae say such things."

  "What? Nay speak the truth? Nay tell ye how I lie awake at night all asweat with the wanting of ye? Nay tell ye how I dream of all the things I want to do to this lithe, silken body of yours?"

  Payton wondered just when it was he had decided it might be fun to drive himself completely insane. He could tell by her quick breaths and darkened eyes that his words were stirring her. Unfortunately, he was also stirring his own desires to a dangerous height.

  Not that that was so uncommon anymore. He had had to start wearing longer tunics to hide the inconvenient and all-too-frequent hardening that occurred each time he thought of her. Or caught the hint of her scent. Or heard her voice. Or caught sight of her. Aye, Payton mused, he was definitely teetering on the edge of madness.

  If she did not say aye soon, he knew that he would lose all patience. She desired him, of that he had no doubt. Soon, Payton feared, he would go to her room and do just as he had told Ian he would—ignore her nay until it became the aye he so craved. That would be folly, for after the delight there would be regrets, guilt, and recriminations. He needed her to be willing in heart, body, and mind.

  His hand brushed against her garter holding her stocking up. Payton was just savoring the feel of her soft, warm skin above that when he heard a door open and shut. A moment later, even as he was pulling his hand out from beneath her skirts, something hard rapped him on the head. Muttering a curse, he turned to glare at Wee Alice, who was holding an impressively large wooden spoon in her hand. She put her fists upon her well-rounded hips and glared right back at him.

  "What did ye do that for?” he asked crossly as he carefully rubbed the sore spot upon his head.

  "Ye shouldnae be tormenting the lass in the kitchen,” snapped Wee Alice. “Anyone could catch ye at it. And, ye certainly shouldnae be thinking of doing that upon the table where I knead my bread."

  "Weel, I was thinking of doing a little kneading myself,” he murmured and hastily backed away when Wee Alice threateningly raised her spoon.

  "Make yourself useful. Go and help Ian keep my lads busy for an hour or two. They are eager to tell the others their news and I wished Kirstie to have time to talk to them first."

  "Ye think that will take an hour or
two?"

  "Nay, but I need to talk to Kirstie myself first.” The moment Payton left, Alice looked at Kirstie. “Have ye got your wits back yet, lass?"

  "Most of them,” Kirstie replied, torn between amusement over the way Alice had routed Payton and embarrassment over being caught with a man's hand under her skirts. “The mon is verra stubborn."

  "Och, aye,” agreed Alice. “Always has been. He is hungry, too, lass. Ye have put him in a sad state. Past time some lass did, I am thinking.” She suddenly clasped Kirstie's hand in hers. “But, I didnae come to speak on that. I want to thank ye,"

  "Nay, there is nay need. The lads need a family and ye want to give it to them. They want it, too. ‘Tis all that is important."

  "We will treat them as our own and do right by them."

  "I ken it."

  Alice set her spoon down and nervously smoothed her apron. “I need to ken, weel, if the lads were, er, hurt. If your husband, weel, did them any true harm."

  Kirstie doubted Alice's small round face could get any redder and she felt the sting of a blush upon her own cheeks. “Nay. There was some, weel, nay-so-innocent touching and harsh punishments meted out if the children objected in e'en the smallest way. Roderick didnae do much more than that to a boy until he was eight years of age. ‘Twas as if he had made himself some rule all his own, but he held to it. He would get them young and ‘twas as if he tried to train them to his ways. He would touch them, the touches slowly growing more intimate, and any rejection of his attention brought harsh punishment. It was all aimed at making the lads accept Roderick without protest when he decided they were the right age for him. It worked with some, but nay all of them."

  "Rather like ye might train a dog,” Alice muttered and shook her head.

  "Roderick is verra good at finding a person's weakness, sniffing out what terrifies one the most. ‘Twas nay hard with most of the children. Once he found it, he used it against ye again and again, until ye would do anything, just so he wouldnae put ye through your greatest torment again. He ne'er found Callum's. A few times it seemed as if he had, but Callum seemed able to overcome that fear or weakness and Roderick would have to try and find another. Breaking the poor boy to his will became an obsession with Roderick. ‘Tis why I couldnae free Callum for so long. He was always being watched, if only because Roderick kenned Callum would ne'er stop trying to escape. The older Callum got, the more the urge to escape became the urge to strike back."

  "I am surprised the mon didnae use ye to try to break the lad."

  Kirstie sighed. “He did, shortly before I freed Callum. We had already guessed that he might and I had made Callum swear he would stand fast nay matter what was done. He did. Roderick tried to use me to break the boy three times, but each time Callum stood firm. Unfortunately, it made the need to free Callum more pressing. Roderick was enraged and he finally noticed how swiftly Callum was growing, that verra soon the boy would be able to look him in the eye. That was when Roderick decided it was time to be rid of Callum."

  Alice shook her head again. “I hear all ye say and I believe ye, yet a part of me just cannae grasp it."

  "I ken what ye mean and I lived it all. Ah, weel, your lads werenae badly done by. And, although I think Callum may forever carry the scars of some heart-deep wounds, I can see now that he can be healed in many ways."

  "Aye, he is a verra strong lad in heart, mind, and body. And, he is yours."

  "Och, weel, I would keep him, but it appears he may have family who will want to take him in."

  "The MacMillans, aye. Once the name was said, I could see it clear. But, that willnae matter, nay e'en if he goes to live with them. He will e'er come back to ye and he will always be ready to stand by ye. Ye ken all that happened to him, lass, and ye still care for him, have from the start. Ye endured pain for his sake and ye freed him from it all at risk to your verra life. Nay, Callum is yours. Moira and Robbie have yet to choose, but I am thinking they may be yours as weel. Although, if Moira was given a choice right now, I am thinking she would want our Payton."

  "Ha, just like every other female.” She smiled faintly when Alice laughed. “One last thing ere I talk to the others—try to get the lads to tell ye what Roderick did. I think it would help if ye could discover what he did to punish them for he may have discovered their fears, may have e'en made them worse. It might save ye an unpleasant moment or two, save ye or Ian from stirring up the same terror or torment by accident."

  "I will do that. They are young enough for the bad memories to fade, but nay if Ian and I stir them up all unknowing-like. Go on with ye, then. Talk to the others. I ken ye will say all the right things."

  Kirstie was not so sure of that as she faced Callum, Moira, and Robbie a few moments later with a distinct feeling of trepidation. She finally just repeated most of what Ian had said to her. As she waited for some response to the news she had just given them, she studied their faces and could see no hint of hurt or insult.

  "Weel, I am nay surprised,” Callum said, and the two younger children nodded. “Those three boys were always wanting to be with Wee Alice. Thought it was just for the food, but changed my mind."

  "Ye do ken that they will take all of ye as weel, if ye wish it,” Kirstie said.

  "Och, aye. I think we just want to set steady for a while, just liking being warm, with full bellies and soft beds. And being as safe as we have e'er been.” Callum glanced at the two other children and they quickly murmured their full agreement.

  When David, Alan, and William arrived, all three trying to talk at once, Kirstie felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Three of her waifs now had a bright future and would be cherished. She saw only a responding happiness in the other children and knew there would be no hurt feelings or jealousies to deal with. Kirstie did wonder, however, what Robbie, Moira, and Callum wanted for their futures. They seemed perfectly content with matters as they stood now, but once Roderick was dealt with, some decision would have to be made. If they thought she and they would simply continue on at Payton's house, in his life, she was going to have to disillusion them. Payton was her chosen champion, nothing more, and when he succeeded in slaying her dragon, he would be gone from her life.

  That realization sat like a cold stone in her belly for the rest of the day. By the time she retired to her bedchamber for the night, she felt as if the chill of it had seeped into the very marrow of her bones and doubted the hot bath waiting for her would ease it. Kirstie finally admitted to herself that, as the children did, she had not allowed herself to look closely at how this would all end. She had settled herself into Payton's life, worked with him in planning Roderick's downfall, and not truly considered that their time together was limited.

  She placed a hand over her heart as if she could shield it from the pain that was already settling itself deep inside. It was suddenly clear to her that, although she had been successful in her fight to keep Payton out of her bed, she had failed to keep him out of her heart. Such folly, she thought, and sighed. A man like Payton was so far above her touch it was laughable. She was still locked into a hopeless marriage and now she had gone and plunged herself into a hopeless love. The only thing she could do was try very hard not to let anyone know just how great a fool she was.

  Nay, she mused, there was one other thing she could do. Kirstie went to the chests of women's clothing that had been brought to her room. In only a moment, she clutched what she had searched for. Kirstie held the night shift up and blushed. It was made of the finest, sheerest linen and trimmed with silk ribbons and lace. One of Payton's kinswomen obviously liked to entice her husband.

  "And she probably has what is needed to entice a mon, unlike ye, ye skinny fool,” she muttered.

  Then, she shook her head and began to shed her clothes. One thing she was sure of was that Payton desired her. He had been rubbing the proof of that against her in the kitchen only a few hours ago. She could even see his desire in his fine eyes, hear it behind every seductive word he spoke. It made no sense to her when
women like the well-rounded Lady Fraser sought him out, but there was no denying Payton's desire for her.

  "So, I shall take it,” she said firmly as she began to give herself a thorough bath. “If ‘tis all the rogue has to offer, then I shall take it, glut myself on it."

  She had been married for five years. No one would believe her a virgin, even when they found out the whole ugly truth about Roderick. There was no need to cling to her maidenhead for an annulment, either, for there never would be one. At the end of this battle either she or Roderick would be dead. Did she really want to die without ever having known the fullness of the passion she and Payton could share? The answer to that question was a swift and resounding nay. Her love was greedy. She wanted it all, but good sense told her she was reaching for the moon. So, she would take all she could, all Payton would give. At least, when it all ended, she would have some very lovely memories to help ease her heartache.

  When she finally donned the night shift, her slightly damp hair tied back with a silk ribbon, Kirstie felt her courage waver as she looked at herself. For all the shift hung from shoulder to toe, it hid very little. Then she stiffened her backbone. She was about to do some hearty sinning. This was the perfect attire for it. That she was acting out of love took away some of her concern over all the rules she was about to break. Not completely, however, and Kirstie decided she had better get herself into Payton's arms and his bed before thoughts of sin sapped the last of her resolve.

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  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Payton slouched in his chair and sipped at his wine. Nothing was going right. Roderick still walked free and healthy. His campaign of blackening the man's name was beginning to bear fruit, but the man had yet to be shunned completely. It was proving far more difficult than it ought to be to get people to heed his warnings and to try to find any witnesses willing to speak out. People either disbelieved it all, were appallingly disinterested, or were too afraid to step forward. Payton knew patience was a virtue in a campaign against such evil, but he was rapidly running out of it. Every time one of the children flinched or their big eyes held dark shadows instead of sweet innocence, he wanted Sir Roderick MacIye dead.