Highland Angel

by Hannah Howell

  Kirstie reached out and took Callum's hand in hers. It tore her heart out to hear all that had happened to Callum, to the other children Callum had seen come and go, even though she had known or guessed most of it. She saw tears on Gillyanne's face and did not look at the woman again, afraid she would give in to the grief choking her. The MacIyes just stared at Callum. Each one had lost all color and several looked as near to weeping as she felt.

  "Brave lad,” Payton murmured, briefly clasping Callum's shoulder as the boy sat down again.

  "I just kept telling myself it isnae my shame,” Callum replied. “All of ye keep saying so, and I think I begin to believe it."

  "And so ye should, for ‘tis the truth,” Payton said.

  "Ye are no street waif,” said Sir Keith in a hoarse voice when Michael slowly stood up.

  "Nay, sir,” replied Michael. “I am the fourth son of Sir Ronald Campbell, laird of Dunspeen, a small, poor holding."

  "Jesu,” whispered Sir Keith, “the sons of lairds as weel?"

  "Nay so verra many,” Michael said, “and fewer still of any family of great standing. The bastard's greatest shield is our own fear and shame, isnae it? I am near to emptying my belly at the thought of speaking about what I suffered, though I have been too old for him for a while now, and of all I saw and heard. Yet, when I met the wee ones Lady Kirstie saved, I kenned that it will ne'er stop unless someone speaks out. Silence might save my pride and heart, but it allows that bastard to keep visiting his evil upon the innocent."

  "Sit down, lad. Ye need say no more. The lad Callum told us more than we need. Jesu, more than any mon wishes to hear."

  Michael sat down. “Do ye believe it, then? Did ye guess what he was?"

  "A wee bit, but ‘tis one of those things one fights to blind oneself to. We couldnae ignore it enough to give him our own bairns to watch o'er, though, could we? If he did manage to get to any in the family or others upon our lands, no one spoke out about it. Or, they died,” he added softly.

  Payton could tell by the tormented look upon the older man's face that he was thinking of far too many possibilities, of children whose deaths may not have been the tragic, but all too sadly common, natural loss of a child. “And now?"

  "He is dead to us,” Sir Keith said, and the other MacIyes muttered their agreement, even Roderick's brothers.

  "Will ye make that known?"

  "Aye, but nay the reason why, if we can avoid it.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “The whispers have begun, fed by ye, I suspect. When ‘tis known we have cast Roderick from the clan, most will feel those whispers are all true.” He looked straight at Payton. “Ye will kill him."

  There was only the barest hint of a question in the man's voice. “Aye. I will."

  "Weel, that was unpleasant,” said Eudard when the MacIyes finally left.

  "Aye,” agreed Payton. “Most families can count a rotted branch or two upon the family tree, but ‘tis nay usually one as evil as this, thank God. Now they will fear there is bad blood within their lineage. ‘Tis to be hoped they willnae hold fast to such foolishness for too long.” He looked at Callum. “Ye did weel this day, lad. As did ye, Michael,” he added, and lightly slapped the older boy on the back.

  Callum shrugged. “It helped that I was verra certain no one here would e'er repeat what I said, just as Michael claimed."

  "I had thought they might ask for the right to deal with Roderick themselves,” said Kirstie.

  "They obviously dinnae want to spill the blood of such a close kinsmon,” said Payton. “I am glad of it. That right should be ours."

  Kirstie filled her goblet with wine and took a long drink. She felt relieved that they would not have to fear the MacIye clan anymore, but also felt sad for Sir Keith and the others. They were good men, had always been kind to her. That their proud name should be so stained by Roderick had to be a hard blow.

  Now the only one they needed to watch out for was Roderick and whatever men he could hold at his side. She had no doubt that, when the MacIyes made it known that Roderick was dead to them, they would also avow the innocence of Payton Murray. Guilt would prompt them to ensure all the hounds were removed from the hunt, leaving Payton free to fight Roderick. She knew it would not be easy, but suspected Payton did as well.

  "Your name will soon be cleared,” she said to Payton.

  "Do ye think so?” he asked.

  "Oh, aye. The MacIyes may not be able to draw Roderick's blood, but they want him dead. Dead, buried, and forgotten. They will make it clear that ye are no wife thief, for they will wish ye to be able to fix all of your attention and skill upon bringing Roderick to justice."

  "And so your name will also be cleared."

  "Ah, true, although I dinnae believe I have loomed so verra large in all of this. If naught else, few people ken who I am. Roderick didnae allow me to mingle with verra many people. Afraid of what I might say, I suppose."

  "What do ye plan to do now?” asked Connor.

  "Take my ease,” replied Payton. “I am nay sure for how long, but I mean to wait until Roderick is thoroughly cast off, and all ken it. I also want it kenned that I have a rightful vengeance to enact so that I may hunt the beast down without fear of any consequences. Nay for myself as much as for Kirstie."

  "And ye believe the MacIyes will openly give ye the right to hunt their kinsmon?"

  "Aye. As Kirstie says, they want the shame of him dead and buried. There have been whispers about the mon and not all of them begun by me or Kirstie. Once his kinsmen cast him out, those whispers will, indeed, be seen as the truth. Although no one will speak openly of his crimes, they will shun him for them. And, they will silently condone whate'er justice I mete out."

  "Gilly and I will take ourselves to the king's court, be your eyes and ears."

  Payton had to bite back a smile, for Connor's tone of voice revealed what a painful sacrifice he felt he was making. “Ye dinnae have to."

  "Aye, we do. Ye and the lass cannae go, nor can Eudard, for he is her kinsmon. But, ye need to ken when the path is cleared for ye to act openly and forcefully against that bastard. Since word went out that ye stole that bastard's wife, ye havenae been able to do much at all save hide behind guards and closed doors, occasionally getting word from Sir Bryan. Rest. The furor will die down soon and Gilly and I will tell ye exactly when ye can show your pretty face again. Ye will need all your strength and wits about ye then.” He lifted his goblet of wine. “To victory."

  "Aye,” agreed Payton as he and the others all joined in the toast. “To victory, and may it be soon."

  Kirstie sat in the middle of Payton's huge bed, dressed only in her shift, and brushed at her damp hair. The confrontation with the MacIyes had been trying, somewhat exhausting, but their success eased a lot of that. If only she could so easily rid herself of all the twinges of shame and embarrassment she felt over so openly sharing Payton's bed. Just as she had thought she had accepted it all, the number of others who knew had greatly increased. His family did not seem to mind, the children acted as if it was all perfectly acceptable, Strong Ian and Wee Alice seemed almost pleased, even hopeful, and her own brother offered no condemnation. It seemed she was the only one concerned about it all. Perhaps it was time she just asked one of the others exactly why they accepted the arrangement so easily, especially her brother. All of Payton's reasons why she should feel no shame made perfect sense, but she could not completely ignore the fact that he gained something he wanted when she agreed with him. And, he was certainly no stranger to the sin of adultery or lust.

  "Ye are thinking on sin and penances again, arenae ye?” drawled Payton as he tossed aside the last of his clothes, sat down behind her, and took over the pleasant chore of brushing her thick hair.

  "Someone ought to,” she mumbled, wondering how the man could be so unconcerned about his own nudity. “No one else seems to be."

  "Nay so long ago ye didnae, either. At least, nay for a few hours."

  "I ken it. I am nay so sure why I keep fret
ting myself o'er it now. ‘Tis just that, weel, now a whole new lot of people ken it. And, weel, adultery, mmpfh.” She briefly considered nipping the palm of the hand he had clasped over her mouth, but thought he might actually like it unless she did it hard enough to truly hurt.

  "Is a sin, and, I will confess, though I am nay above using the women willing to commit it, I have little respect for most of them. Ye, however, are no adulteress."

  "I am a wedded woman,” she said as soon as he removed his hand.

  "Ye may have said the vows, but the marriage was ne'er consummated, therefore ‘tis invalid. I had thought that ye had decided that was so."

  "So, then I am just a wanton?"

  Payton set the brush down, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her back against him. “Ye are my lover.” He traced the delicate shape of her ear with his tongue. “Ye are my comrade in arms. Ye are nay Sir Roderick's wife, nor have ye e'er been. Ye are mine,” he said, his voice soft and husky as he kissed her neck.

  "At this time, aye, I am.” She forced away the hurt caused by the knowledge that her time with Payton would end either because Roderick beat them or because Payton tired of her once they had won their battle.

  As he shifted their positions on the bed so that she was sprawled beneath him, Payton decided that now was probably not a good time to tell her he had no intention of letting her go. She was still Sir Roderick's wife, sometimes in her own mind, and definitely in the minds of too many others. Payton knew that no matter how many pretty and heartfelt words he gave her, how many promises of fidelity and forever he uttered, Kirstie would not completely believe him. He had to wait until he could make her his wife.

  Kirstie shivered with a sudden rush of desire as Payton began to kiss her legs. The flare of embarrassment she had suffered when he sprawled between her legs quickly faded. She was a little astonished that she could be so enflamed by a kiss on the soft skin at the back of her knee. It was not until he kissed each hip that she realized he had pushed her shift up to her waist. Shock at how exposed she was to his gaze made her try to close her legs, but his broad shoulders prevented that attempt at modesty.

  "Payton,” she cried softly in protest when he knelt, his gaze fixed upon that place she wished to shield as he stroked her thighs.

  When his gaze met hers, she gasped. The desire she could read there was almost hot enough to burn away the last shreds of her modesty. To see that she could stir this man to such passion could easily make her vain.

  "Ye must ne'er try to hide such beauty from me,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her hard and fast.

  She was thinking of protesting such a meager kiss when he tugged her shift off and tossed it aside. He kissed, caressed, and even licked his way from her throat to her breasts. When he drew the taut, aching tip of one breast into his mouth, Kirstie stroked his back and shoulders, holding him close.

  Kirstie murmured her disappointment when he began to move his kisses to other parts of her heated body. She was just thinking that it was easy to cast aside all modesty when he caressed her, when he touched his lips to the soft curls shielding her woman's flesh. Even she could hear that her trembling protests were weak, her voice thick with desire. She liked this, yet was shocked that she did. Her thoughts on her own inexplicable confusion were completely scattered when he stroked her with his tongue. She could be shocked and embarrassed later, she decided, as she twined her fingers in his hair to hold him close while she offered herself up for his stunningly intimate kiss.

  As she felt herself draw ever nearer to that sweet abyss passion always sent her tumbling into, Kirstie struggled to get Payton to join with her, but he ignored her demands and then her pleas. He drove her to the heights with his mouth. Her body was still shaking and tingling from the strength of her release when Payton propped her legs up against his shoulders and joined their bodies with such force she knew she would have been thrown up against the headboard if he had not had a firm grip on her.

  For one brief moment, she saw him clearly. The look of intense, nearly feral passion upon his beautiful face should have alarmed her, but instead, it caused her desire to start climbing again, to start scrambling back up those blinding heights she had only just hurled herself down. His gaze was fixed intently upon the place where their bodies were joined as he thrust in and out with a fury and growing speed that could well leave her feeling a little bruised in the morning. One glance was almost more than she could bear, and, closing her eyes, she allowed her body to rule her. He placed one hand down on the mattress as his body shuddered, the warmth of his seed spilling inside of her only intensifying her own bliss. When he collapsed against her, she forced her weak, trembling arms around him, holding him close as they both struggled to recover their wits and strength. She liked the way he remained joined with her as they both tried to grasp some calm and rationality, so she wrapped her arms and legs around him more securely, holding him as close as possible.

  "'Tis nay wonder women flock to your bed,” she said when she finally regained enough sense to speak.

  Kirstie forcefully pushed aside the thought of how many women there were out there who had shared this bliss with him. The moment she had entered his room that first night, she had known she was about to join the ranks of far too many women. It was foolish to torment herself with thoughts of all the other women who had held him close like this. He made a noise that was an even blend of curse and laughter, and she welcomed the interruption of her own painful thoughts.

  "Ah, lass, I have ne'er done that before,” he said, shifting a little to resettle himself more securely inside of her as he felt himself begin to harden again.

  "Truly?” She was somewhat astonished when his almost idle caress of her breast caused a renewed quickening low in her belly.

  "I suppose I should be flattered ye thought me experienced in that sort of loving. Nay, I sometimes gave a rare, fleeting kiss to speed the wench toward my goal, toward satisfying my wants and needs, but nay more than that. They were women I but borrowed, used for a wee while, and nay more. Ah, but ye are mine, have only e'er been mine. No other mon has kenned the sweetness of ye and I have a need to ken the fullness of it.” He propped himself up on his forearms and gave her a deep, stirring kiss. “And, ye are verra sweet indeed, my dark beauty. Like the richest, rarest honey. Sweet and warm and definitely tasting like more.” He began to move, measured, penetrating thrusts intended to gently restir that fierce passion she gave so freely.

  She could feel the sting of a fierce blush upon her cheeks, but his words stirred her. As she felt her desire revived by his gentle caresses and almost idle cadence, she stroked the back of his strong legs with her feet and decided to cast aside all worry about sin. She had done it before and it should not matter that his cousin or her brother now knew about them. According to all the rules of the church and society, she became a sinner the moment she went to his bed, the moment she even thought about doing so. Fretting over the matter would not change that, would only sour all they could share, as would worrying over who might know about it. She acted out of love and there was no changing that, either. There was also the ever-present shadow of Roderick looming over them. Soon he would find himself disowned, dispossessed, and scorned. That would enrage him, make him rabid in his need for revenge, and he would blame her for it all. From the moment he had thrown her in the river, her life had been in danger. It was past time to cease fretting over how she spent what few peaceful hours she had. There was always the chance that she might not have many left.

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  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  As she peered out the window of the room the children slept in, Callum on one side of her and Michael on the other, Kirstie wondered just how big Payton's family was. It had been a week since the MacIyes had arrived and three days after that the first of a horde of Murray kinsmen had begun to arrive. Payton was very particular about introducing her to each and every one, but she was not sure why. Most seemed very surprised to find her in his h
ome and she began to think the rumor that he let no women in this house was actually true. Most stayed only long enough to find out what Roderick looked like, what men were with him, and where they should look for the man.

  Roderick was in hiding. The MacIyes had not only disowned him, they had taken back his lands, his source of wealth, and most of his small army of men. He was now a “broken man.” His clan had also cast him out swiftly, openly, and completely. As suspected, the moment they had done so, all the dark rumors about Roderick were seen as true and he was utterly shunned. Several men who either suspected or now knew he had defiled their sons were also hunting him, eager to make him pay for an insult they had no real wish to discuss, but which everyone now suspected.

  It was somewhat amusing, and she and Gillyanne had certainly giggled over it often enough, but Payton was now seen as a wondrous hero, a near saint of a man who had risked his good and honorable name for the sake of children. There was certainly some truth to it all, yet it was spoken of in such ridiculously flowery terms it invited ridicule. It was obvious she and Gillyanne were not the only ones who thought so as there had been several tussles amongst Payton and the seemingly never-ending flow of cousins and brothers. Connor also made the occasional subtle jest, as did Ian.

  "Payton has a verra big family,” said Callum, sounding a little envious.

  "They arenae all blood kin,” said Michael. “'Tis rather fine that that doesnae seem to make any difference, though.” Michael looked at Kirstie. “'Tis why ye chose him, isnae it? Ye kenned his family would all be quick to help him."

  Kirstie nodded. “One of the reasons. I had heard that the family was large and that a strong bond existed e'en amongst the most distant. I will confess, though, that I hadnae realized it would be like this. Nay wonder the MacIyes were hesitant to act upon Roderick's claims. They kenned the trouble that would descend upon them."