Highland Angel

by Hannah Howell

  "Then we take them aside and knock some sense into them."

  "Sounds like a good plan to me."

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  "Ah, lass, ye do look bonnie,” Alice said as she stood back to admire Kirstie.

  "'Tis certainly a lovely night shift,” Kirstie murmured, then blushed as she looked herself over. “And, er, delicate. Verra delicate."

  Gisele nodded. “A perfect temptation, teasing the mon with wee glimpses of what he wants."

  "Mother,” Kirstie was a little startled by how quickly she had grown at ease with the title Lady Gisele insisted upon, “I dinnae think I will shock ye by saying your son has already glimpsed all I have, little as it is."

  "Which makes it even more tempting when you hide it.” Gisele smiled at Kirstie's confusion. “Believe me."

  "Aye,” said Alice, “and ye may as weel enjoy playing the temptress now as ye probably willnae feel comfortable doing it later."

  "I dinnae feel comfortable doing it now.” Kirstie frowned at Wee Alice. “Why should later matter to how I feel?"

  "Weel, some women dinnae feel comfortable showing much of themselves once the bairn starts to round them."

  "The bairn?"

  "Wheesht, didnae Lady Gillyanne tell ye?"

  "Tell me what?"

  "That ye are carrying, lass.” Alice shook her head when she saw how shocked Kirstie was. “When did ye last bleed?"

  "Why, just before—” Kirstie realized how long ago it was that she had first bedded down with Payton and hastily sat down on the bed when she felt her knees grow weak. “I think it has been a while. Oh, dear."

  "Payton will be thrilled,” said Gisele as she patted Kirstie's shoulder and made no attempt to hide her own delight.

  "Come, lass,” said Alice, “with the fertile ground both ye and the lad sprung from, can ye really be so surprised?"

  "Nay, I suppose not,” replied Kirstie, torn between delight over the child and fear that Payton would see it as just another shackle binding him to a wife he had not chosen. “Payton will feel e'en more obligated to me now."

  Gisele shook her head. “Foolish child. You have sunk yourself into a morass of self-pity, oui? I understand why and sympathize, but shake it off, lass. Do you know that Payton has bred no bastards at all? His caution and control are near legendary amongst the lads in the family. ‘Tis obvious he exercised neither with you and you should look hard at the why of that."

  "Weel, the passion is rather, er, strong,” she began, blushing furiously.

  "I truly do not wish to remind you of what a rogue my son was, but there is no hiding from that truth. Payton has been no stranger to passion for far longer than I care to think on. He has ne'er left his seed in a woman, and do not tell him I know that as I think it might embarrass him. Foolish lads believe they can hide such things from their mothers and I kindly allow them to think so."

  "'Tis a puzzle, and I will think on what it means.” Kirstie sighed. “Yet, he is such a beautiful mon. When he walks into a crowded room half the women there want him and the other half have probably had him and want him again. I am a little dark lass, Mother. I have seen what he is accustomed to and I dinnae compare weel at all."

  "You have your own beauty, child. Do you think my boy would want you if you did not, eh? He has no need to struggle so hard to get a woman into his bed, and, I must say, we were all delighted by how long and hard ye made him struggle for you."

  Kirstie blushed. “Gillyanne told ye everything, didnae she?"

  "It was a very long letter, oui.” Gisele gently took Kirstie's face between her hands. “Tell him, child. Tell him what you feel. Tell him what you want. Tell him what you need. Set it before him and see what happens, see what he says. This night begins the whole rest of your life. Start that life with the truth. And, when you are satisfied with what he offers, and I know you will be, tell him of the child. But, only then, or you will always wonder if the child was part of why he accepted being married to you."

  Kirstie was still considering Gisele's advice when she suddenly found herself alone. She sighed, reached for the tankard of mead Alice had poured for her, and had a drink. One thing Lady Gisele had said had truly struck home. She had been feeling very sorry for herself and she did need to stop. The marriage may not have come about as she would have liked, but it was done. It was time to cease pouting over what she did not have and look at what she did have. Even more important, it was time to look at what she could have if she tried hard enough.

  There was no question that Payton was a husband many women would envy her for. Although she had seen little of him since they had said their vows, he had revealed no anger or regret. There had certainly been neither of those emotions in the kiss he had given her after they had finished their vows. Payton would keep the children and few other men would do so. Simon, Brenda, Moira, and Robbie would have a home with them. So would Callum, although, after today, she believed it would not be a permanent home, that Callum would accept his grandfather. There was passion, hot and fierce, and she had no doubt that he shared it with her. She also felt fairly confident that Payton liked, trusted, and respected her. Although she ached to be loved, she recognized the value of those gifts.

  Tell him what you feel, Payton's mother had advised, and it was good advice. Kirstie was just not sure she was brave enough to bare her soul like that when there was no guarantee of an equal return. Yet when would be a good time, she wondered. And who deserved the truth more than Payton, who had risked his very life for her? She had another drink of mead, but the truth could not be washed away with the heady brew. Lady Gisele was right. It was best to start their married life with the truth. At least he would know he was getting everything she had to offer a man, even if he could only return some of that. She would also finally know where she stood in his affections. It would let her know how much she had to work for or if there was any point in even trying for more.

  She was just starting her second goblet of mead when Payton entered the room. He wore only a loosely tied robe and his beautiful hair was still damp from his bath. Her newly made resolutions faltered badly. How could she possibly hold onto a man like him? Little dark lasses did not have bonnie knights like Sir Payton Murray lay his heart at their tiny feet. Yet, she told herself firmly, her decision had been a good one. She just needed to get her courage back, and the way he looked at her as he poured himself some mead would certainly help. Such a heated, hungry look from such a man should be enough to give any lass courage.

  "How did the meeting between Callum and his grandfather go?” she asked, hoping to calm her nerves with idle conversation.

  Payton could see that Kirstie was nervous and decided to let her set the pace for a while. “Surprisingly weel. We shall have Sir Gavin as a guest for a wee while, but then I do believe Callum will be ready to go and see what will be his new home."

  "Oh.” She truly was happy for the boy, yet it hurt to know he would soon leave her. “Sir Gavin had no trouble accepting Callum despite what had happened to him?"

  "Nay. He asked the lad if the mon was truly dead and Callum told him how Roderick had died. Then he asked if Callum kenned where the mon is buried and Callum told him where. Then the old mon asked if Callum had gone to piss on his grave yet."

  Kirstie was shocked, yet could not completely hold back a laugh. “He truly asked that?"

  "Aye, and Callum smiled. Told the mon he had done it—twice—and had been careful to drink a lot ere he went there."

  She shook her head. “Such strange creatures men are.” She sighed and stared into the dregs of her mead. “I am sorry for today, for how my family arrived and forced ye to the altar."

  "Love, no one can force me to do anything I dinnae want to. It made your father feel better to wave his sword about so I let him, but nay more than that."

  "I see,” she murmured, although she really did not. How could any one man resist the persuasive power of nine swords?

 
; Payton set his goblet down and gently took her face between his hands. “I wanted to marry ye, lass."

  "Ye ne'er said so, ne'er hinted at it."

  "Eudard kenned it. I told him so the day he arrived."

  "Weel, that certainly explains his attitude.” She found that confession was enough to renew her courage. “Payton, I need to say—"

  "Aye,” he kissed her to halt her words, “and I have things I need to say as weel, but first, we get naked."

  Still dazed from the heat of his kiss, Kirstie meekly allowed him to strip her of her clothes. “Ye need to be naked to talk to me?"

  "Twill help."

  When he shed his robe, she looked at him and sighed. “I am nay sure I will be able to talk much with ye naked.” She reached out to curl her fingers around his erection. “The sight tends to muddle my thoughts.” She moved closer and kissed his chest as she lightly stroked him, enjoying the soft sounds of pleasure he made. “I just think about touching ye.” Kirstie licked him. “And tasting ye."

  It was surprisingly easy to maneuver the much stronger Payton around until he was sprawled on the bed. At first, Kirstie had thought it odd that he would wish to be naked in order to talk seriously, but now she saw some distinct advantages to it. Making love to him would fire her own passions and she was sure it would be easy to confess all then. As she crouched over him, she kissed him with all the love and need within her.

  "Now, are ye verra sure ye wished to marry me ere ye woke up with my father's sword at your throat?” she asked as she encircled his still-lightly-bruised neck with soft kisses.

  "Oh, aye. Ye ken that something must have made Eudard so calm about ye sharing my bed."

  She did. It was the only thing that made any sense. “Weel, that is good. I wouldnae wish to be doing this to just any fool.” Kirstie trailed kisses down his broad chest. “I do so want ye, Payton. All the time. I think ye are a pestilence, but I dinnae really wish to be cured."

  "I must be suffering the same disease.” He shuddered when she ran her tongue slowly up and down the length of his manhood. “We willnae get much talking done if ye do that."

  "Nay? How about if I do this?” She took him into her mouth.

  For as long as he could, Payton enjoyed the pleasure she so freely gave him. They were not going to get much talking done now, but he decided they could easily talk later. It might even be better, for they would both be too exhausted to move, no matter what was said. Then, knowing how close he was to the edge, Payton dragged her up his body, and eased her down on him.

  "Ah, lass, this is all I need. This is what is right, perfect."

  "Truly?” She leaned down and brushed her lips over his, moving ever so slowly. “Do ye ken what I need? I need ye, Payton Murray. I need ye here. I need to see ye when I wake in the morning and when I go to sleep at night. I need to ken that, whene'er I have some news to share, or burden I need eased, that ye will be there. I need to ken that, e'en when I am the veriest shrew, ye will still be there. I need to ken that, when what little beauty I have fades into wrinkles, ye will still be there."

  Payton stared at her, his mind fixed entirely upon her words, even as she taunted his body with her tiny movements. “And I need the same,” was all he could think to say.

  "'Tis good, then."

  "Verra good."

  "And I want things, Payton. I want ye to think about me now and then. I want ye to hold fast to your vows, for it would tear the heart right out of me if ye didnae."

  He smiled faintly as he stroked her hips, then gasped as he felt her tighten around him. “I have wanted no other since setting eyes on ye, lass, and I will ne'er want another."

  "And, Payton Murray?” she said very softly as she pressed her lips against his.

  "Aye, my dark beauty?” he said, speaking against her mouth.

  "I want ye to love me as I love ye."

  Kirstie suddenly found herself on her back, a taut, intense-looking Payton above her. His body trembled as she wrapped her limbs around him. It was a little bit more of a reaction than she had anticipated. However, it revealed that he was willing and eager to accept her love, seemed deeply moved by her words. That had to be a good sign.

  "Say it again,” he ordered in a hoarse, slightly tremulous voice. “Say the last three words again."

  "I love ye,” she whispered.

  "Ah, Jesu, lass."

  Kirstie found herself being made love to with a ferocity that was both intensely exciting and somewhat astonishing. She caught his fever very quickly and gave herself up to it. He was muttering sweet, hot words against her skin, words she suspected she ought to heed more closely, but her rising passion deafened her to all but the seductive tone of them. Kirstie was also aware of the fact that Payton had lost control, and that knowledge only heightened her desire, for she knew instinctively that no other woman had seen him this way. She, little dark lass that she was, had the legendary Sir Payton Murray, the great lover renowned for his control, his finesse, and his seductive artistry, slamming into her so fast and furiously they were rapidly edging up the bed. Her last clear thought was that she was glad she had piled the pillows against that hard, ornately carved head-board.

  When Kirstie felt the touch of wet linen, she opened her eyes and saw nothing. It took her dazed mind a minute to realize the pillows had toppled onto her face. Still a little embarrassed at being so personally attended to by Payton, she did not immediately remove the pillow. A moment later, Payton returned to lie at her side, lifted it off, and kissed her.

  "Say it again,” he whispered against her cheek.

  Although she blushed, too painfully aware that while he kept demanding the words, he offered none in return, she whispered back, “I love ye.” She squeaked a little when he pulled her into an almost too-tight hug.

  "Mine,” he said.

  "Weel, aye. We are wed now.” It was a little sad, she mused, that she could find satisfaction in that display of manly possessiveness.

  "Nay, I mean mine in every way. In body, in law, and in heart."

  "I think I have been yours since the beginning,” she said, finding hope in the fact that he was so obviously pleased by her admission and decided to be completely truthful. “Nay in law, true, but in all other ways."

  "And I was an idiot not to see it. I have been an idiot in many ways.” He brushed a kiss over her lips and held her gaze with his as he idly stroked her lithe body and braced himself to speak from his heart. “The passion we shared was clear to me and I was greedy for it. I respected your stand, your determination to hold to vows given and a few hard rules, but resented it as weel. Yet, when ye finally came to my bed, I did not see, or didnae want to, the importance of that. To ye."

  "'Tis difficult to see what is nay revealed and nay spoken of."

  "Ye revealed it, lass, in every sigh, in every embrace. I but chose to keep calling it passion.” He touched a kiss to her forehead. “I decided quite a while ago that I must lack the capability of being in love, for I have ne'er been, that I am nay a loving mon."

  "Oh, nay, Payton.” She rubbed her hands up and down his arms when he moved to settle himself on top of her. “Ye are a verra loving mon. ‘Tis there to see in how ye are with your family, to hear in how ye speak of them. ‘Twas there to see in how ye not only championed the cause of the children, but in how ye treated them."

  "Then I refused to recognize it as such. I looked too closely, too hard, at every feeling, perhaps.” He shook his head. “It matters naught how I became misguided, just that I was, that I had convinced myself I wasnae destined to love a woman, or was incapable of it, so I put a different name to all I felt. I did that time and time again until I could nay longer delude myself."

  Kirstie felt herself tense, terrified she was misinterpreting his words, yet certain she was not. “What are ye saying, Payton?"

  "I am saying that when the passion we shared proved to be the best, the fiercest, the most satisfying I have e'er kenned, I decided we were a perfect match in desire. Then, w
hen Roderick took ye and I was near maddened with fear for ye, I decided I cared for ye. That was when I decided ye were mine and, as soon as ye were free, I would marry ye."

  "Ye ne'er said a word."

  "Nay, for ye were still a married woman, by law and in your own mind.” He combed his fingers through her tangled hair. “Then, when ye came to ransom me, I finally saw it all clearly.” Payton raised his hand and idly studied the marks there, marks which would fade, but would undoubtedly leave behind a few scars. “When he struck ye, when he raised that knife, I kenned the truth. I was cold with fear for ye and gripped by a blinding rage that he would dare to hurt ye, to take ye from me. When I saw him start to swing that sword toward this pretty neck,” he kissed her throat, “I would have gladly maimed myself just to get free and stop it, or take the blow in your stead. I was watching ye die and it was killing me."

  Kirstie took his hand in hers and kissed the marks around his wrists, anxious to ease the torment that memory so clearly brought him. “Ye could do naught. Ye were wounded and tightly bound. And, my head still sits upon my shoulders. But I am so sorry that ye had to hurt your beautiful hands."

  Payton took her face between his hands. “Every time I see the scars, I will remember what ye mean to me. I will remember how desolate I felt at the thought that ye would be taken from me. I will remember that I nearly lost all chance to tell ye that I love ye."

  Despite suspecting what he would say, Kirstie's doubts had remained strong enough to leave her stunned when he finally said the words she so longed to hear. She stared at him, unable to think of anything to say. When he kissed her, she clung tightly to him, fighting back tears of joy.

  "Say it again,” she whispered, and felt him smile against her shoulder.

  "I love ye, my dark beauty, my heart, my wife.” He smiled and kissed the corners of her eyes. “Thank ye for nay crying."

  She laughed softly. “Ye ken women too weel."

  "Nay, I kenned whores, adulteresses, women to whom it was all a game or a salve for their vanity. Aye, the women in my family are like ye, and I did learn from them—yet, I believe I forgot too much as I dallied amongst the courtesans and courtiers. Ye have reminded me of all I truly value in a woman, all that I truly hungered for."