by Mary Wine
Bhaic peered at her with an incredulous expression for at least one minute before he started chuckling. “Fat, smelly fart?”
Then he was laughing so hard his eyes squeezed shut.
She groaned and picked up her skirt to shield herself. “Go on with ye. I’ll be down as soon as I’ve dressed. Ye did nae need to fetch me. I am no’ spying.”
So accustomed to being trusted, she felt keenly the suspicion surrounding her.
He sobered. “I suppose ’tis been a long day for ye.”
There was a hint of compassion in his tone. She shied away from it, unwilling to let him see her wounds. She gestured him toward the door with her hand. “I’ll be along, and in any event, I’m sure yer brother’s men will make sure of it.”
“Helen seems to have run them off.”
“I’m sure ye’ll feel the need to warn her against doing that as well.” She hadn’t meant to let the words out, but the day had worn down her resolve.
Bhaic slowly grinned. “I’m pretty sure she’d ignore me. Figures ye’d manage to find the only lass in the kitchens with a reason to want to needle me and me brother.”
“It’s no’ as if either of us has many options as far as finding pleasant company.” She forced herself to drop her skirt. The man had seen her in a chemise before. “But she’s the one being kind to me.”
Now he’s seen ye without it too…
Well, that was just fine as well. She sat down and pulled her stockings on, tying her garters to keep them secure. She pushed her feet into her ankle boots before tugging the laces tight and standing up.
“I believe I am going to owe her a boon.” Ailis secured her hip roll as Bhaic spoke. Next came her skirts. Her fingers were shaking as she reached for them.
Stop being a ninny; ye’re dressing, not undressing…
Not that being clothed would keep him from having her if he wanted.
“Because I came to ask ye to run away with me. Having her chase off yer escort is right timely.”
She’d lifted her skirt up and had to pull it down before she might look at him. He’d bent down and picked up her overskirt.
“Have a notion to try yer luck at me father’s table?” she asked. No matter how nervous she was, she couldn’t help but laugh at the idea.
Bhaic grinned. “Nay. I’m no’ sure I’m as good at holding me temper as ye are.”
She took her overskirt from him and got into it, tying it closed before he handed her the bodice.
“I’ve no taste for the scrutiny either,” he offered as she worked the laces through the eyelets on her bodice.
“So I came up here to ask ye to run away with me for an evening ride,” he continued, “but I’ll admit, I found myself tongue-tied when I realized I’d be asking ye to put yer clothes back on for it. Part of me rebels completely at that idea.”
He was chuckling again, his features transforming into a visage that was really quite handsome.
“No’ sure yer reputation will survive such a thing?” she teased.
“No’ if Marcus hears of it,” he confirmed gravely.
“Or Angus?”
Bhaic nodded agreement. “Among others.”
They were both smiling, clearly still unsure about being easy in each other’s company.
There was a rap on the door, and Helen pushed it in a moment later. “Left those fools at the base of the stairs, and if they do nae want their skulls caved in, they’ll stay there.”
She stopped abruptly as she found herself facing Bhaic, but she didn’t simper in front of him, only gave him a nod before scooping up Ailis’s arisaid and beginning to fold it on the table.
With Helen’s help, Ailis was soon finished. Bhaic offered her his hand. She didn’t ponder the decision long. If there was an alternative to sitting through another supper in the hall, she’d take it.
Even if it included the rather unsettling persona of her husband.
He clasped her hand, his eyes flickering with enjoyment.
“Helen, ye have no idea where we’ve gone.”
“I feel me memory clouding. However…” Helen crossed to them and unbuckled Ailis’s belt. “Ye’ll be wanting to leave these Robertson colors here, else everyone will take notice of yer passing.”
Helen pulled her own arisaid loose and handed it to Ailis. Bhaic took the length of wool and slung it over his shoulder.
Bhaic pulled her toward the door, but looked back at Helen. “And warn the laundress that I’ll be having words with anyone who forgets Ailis is me bride.”
Helen scoffed at him. “Ye may do that yerself.” She scooped up the chemise and walked to the tub to dunk it. “I’d rather look after the lass meself than tangle with the lot of women ye have in this castle. Arrogant lot. It’s no wonder most of the babes have red hair. No one is willing to wed an outsider. Mark me words, that sort of thing makes the blood thin.”
* * *
“I truly like Helen.”
They’d crossed into the stairway. Bhaic looked back at her. “Because she told me nay?”
Ailis nodded.
He rolled his eyes, but the grin stayed on his lips. “Suppose she’s entitled. I forgot she was here.”
He pulled her up the stairs and across a landing before going down another set on the other side of the tower.
“How could ye forget something like that? And how long has she been here?”
“Since last spring.” He shrugged and kept going, pulling her along behind him. “I was nae the one who took her. Marcus did.” They made it to the bottom of the stairs. He pulled her close as he looked into the passageway. He tapped his lips with his finger, warning her to be silent. Finley and Lyel were leaning against the stone wall on the other side of the landing, both of them looking up.
“We’re going to starve if she does nae get down here,” Lyel groused. “Let’s go and get her.”
“Well ye can just go first. That way, that she devil of a Grant will use up her spite on yer skull.”
Lyel hesitated, but he finally set his mind to it and started up the stairs, Finley on his heels.
“Now’s our chance, lass.”
She bit back a giggle as Bhaic tugged her through the passageway, hugging the walls to stay in the shadows. There was a swirl of excitement in her belly, a hint of anticipation stroking her insides. Other girls could sneak into the shadows for a kiss, but not her. No, not the laird’s daughter.
But she’d thought about it more than a time or two.
It was strange to have Bhaic MacPherson helping her experience such a forbidden thing, but then again, maybe he was the only man who could take her away into the night.
For kisses…
She blushed, grateful he wasn’t looking at her.
Well, maybe there would be kisses… What was wrong with that?
He was her husband, wasn’t he?
He clicked his tongue when they neared the outer doorway. There was a snort in response. Fires were being lit on the walls so the sentries could keep watch, but the castle was still shrouded in darkness.
“Here now, lass, give me yer foot.” He’d cupped his hands to offer her a step up. His stallion was eying her as she pulled her skirt out of the way and let Bhaic help her gain the back of the beast. The stallion was intimidating, in height and sheer bulk. Bhaic swung up behind her, sending a shiver through her as she ended up pressed against him. A light rain had started to fall.
“Do ye mind the rain, lass?”
He’d pressed the horse into motion, riding away from the castle and heading for the outer wall.
“Less than the scrutiny of the hall.”
“Aye.”
He covered her head with Helen’s arisaid and locked his arm around her waist to secure her against him. They moved in
unison with the motion of the horse, his body chasing the night chill away. The sentry eyed them but didn’t cry an alarm as Bhaic rode through the gate.
* * *
“Ye’ll get yer hand off me…”
Finley snarled something in Gaelic as he tugged Helen down the last few steps. Lyel was behind the woman, doing little good, because he was loath to actually put his hands on her.
Marcus stood there, offering her a glare that unsettled most men.
Helen tossed her head and boldly stepped up to face him. “Ye did nae need to have yer hounds collect me. I am no’ afraid of ye.”
“So ye have mentioned before, mistress.”
Helen glared at him. “Well? What do ye want from me?”
Marcus’s lips slowly curved. Helen’s eyes narrowed. She started to flounce past him, but he put his arm out, cupping her shoulder and turning her around so her back was against the wall.
“Leave us,” he said.
The position gave her an excellent view of Finley and Lyel making haste toward the hall. Her insides twisted as she realized she was quite alone with Marcus.
“Where did yer mistress go?” he asked.
Marcus was accustomed to getting what he wanted, either by sheer force of will or cunning. Fortunately, she was immune to him.
“Me memory is clouded.” She tried to slip along the wall.
Marcus pressed a hand on the wall next to her, caging her. “We can stay here as long as it takes for ye to recall.”
His gaze dropped to her cleavage. “But if me behavior unsettles ye, best ye recall quickly.”
“Unsettles?” she scoffed. “I hardly recall ye draw breath. Is that no’ the same way ye feel about me?”
“Longing for me attention, are ye?” He continued looking at her cleavage, in defiance of every rule of decent conduct.
“I long to be free to return home,” she shot back. “Ye dropped me in yonder courtyard without a backward glance, and a warning that ye’d burn me father’s house if I went back there.”
He raised his attention to her face, abandoning his attempts at intimidation. “Ye seem to have fared well enough.”
She didn’t care for the compliment. No, not at all, because there was nothing she wanted to like about the burly War Chief.
Nothing.
She lifted her foot and he curled in, expecting an attack on his groin, which left his shin wide open. He jerked and jumped back as she landed the blow. Helen made full use of the opportunity and escaped into the hall, where supper was being served. Marcus was on her heels. He cupped her elbow.
“We’re nae finished, mistress. Ye can be sure of that.” Yet he seemed loath to drag her back in the face of so many watching them.
“And ye may be certain that I will never help ye with a single thing so long as I draw breath.”
She jerked her elbow from his grip, but not before she heard a husky chuckle.
Her heart was pounding as she made her way away from him. Damned brute. It always unsettled her to see the man who’d so easily ordered her abduction.
That was the only reason she’d allow into her mind for her accelerated heart rate.
The only one.
* * *
“Here, lass…”
Bhaic had guided them across the land bridge and through the village until he could once again climb onto the high ground. A body of water stood between them and MacPherson Castle. The moon shone off its smooth surface as the stars came out.
“There used to be an astrologer here,” Bhaic said. “He died a few seasons past.”
There was a small building that might have been called a home as easily as it could have been labeled a workshop. It was an odd, two-story structure, perched on the highest point of land. There was even a single-stall stable built onto it.
“When he grew older, his knees were nae so good, so me father had a horse here for him to use when he needed to get about.” Bhaic slid off the back of the stallion and reached up to help her down. “Me father enjoyed the man’s predictions and rarely made a business move without first consulting with old Maeburn.”
He led the stallion around and into the stall. There was a trough Bhaic filled with oats.
“Ye keep the place stocked?” Ailis asked.
“Aye.” He removed the bridle from the stallion and rubbed the beast’s nose before the horse went looking for the feed. “Ye are nae the only one who feels the weight of those watching in the hall.” He looked up at the building. “Sometimes I come here to look up at things that are far removed from anything MacPherson.”
He offered her his hand, and she laid hers into it, earning a grin. Excitement glittered in his eyes. “The second floor is quite interesting.”
He pulled her inside and shut the door, releasing her in order to lower the bar. He took a good look around the room before moving farther into it. As far as rooms went, it was a good size. There was a hearth, with an iron bar for roasting meat, and a hook to suspend a pot from. Wood was stacked up beside it.
“Lighting a candle will ruin the view,” he said. “Do ye mind the darkness?”
“It is nae so dark.”
In fact, the second floor of the structure seemed to be glowing. There was a loft with a steep stairway. Bhaic gestured her up behind him. “Hold on.”
“Easy for ye to say,” she said with a laugh. “Ye are nae wearing a skirt.”
She struggled to keep her skirt out of the way of her feet. “I wish Helen had left me my belt.”
Bhaic was watching her from the second floor. “Aye, I can see how that would have made things simpler. But I’m grateful she took yer colors from ye.”
She’d almost reached the top when he grasped her waist and pulled her the rest of the way up. He held her against him, the scent of his skin filling her senses.
“Because now I have ye all to meself.”
His tone had turned husky. She ended up resting her hands on his chest, her fingertips suddenly becoming far more sensitive than she’d realized they might be. His breath teased her temple, tempting her to raise her face for his kiss.
Instead, she turned to look at what was glowing. She felt him hesitate to release her.
“Aye…this is what I wanted to show ye.”
He hooked his arm around her back, resting his hand on her hip as he guided her forward. There was a huge glass window that went from waist high to the roof. It was made of squares of glass, all set with thin lengths of iron between them.
“It’s breathtaking.”
It surely was. The moon was full and looked like a glowing ball across the lake. All of the stars were in view, but without the harshness of biting wind.
“Aye, a truly stunning sight.”
Bhaic wasn’t looking at the view. He was watching her. She turned her face toward his, drawn to the husky promise in his voice. It wasn’t something she thought about. No, she was responding to something she felt deep inside her belly.
He cupped the side of her face, holding her steady for his kiss. She saw it coming, felt time freeze as he came closer and closer, finally making contact. He tried to start softly, but she lifted up onto her toes to meet him, craving the connection.
He shifted, pushing his hand along her cheek and cupping her nape to hold her steady. The kiss turned demanding, his mouth moving across hers in a firm motion that made her thoughts spin. She let it all go, kissing him back, searching for the motion, trying to mimic the way he was using his mouth against hers. Sweet sensation tore through her, racing down her spine and curling her toes. It stole her breath, leaving her feeling as if she’d been spun around and around until she was ready to fall down.
She pulled away, turning toward the windows. “I should…thank ye for offering me an alternative to supper in the hall. ’Tis truly a m
ajestic sight here.”
She was struggling to catch her breath, but so was he. That surprised her. She could hear him breathing heavily, heard the slight scuff of his boots against the floorboards as he came toward her.
“I had planned on stealing kisses after I fed ye, but well, what can I say? Ye’re a Robertson. I feel the need to do me stealing first thing.”
There was a playful note in his tone, and it touched something inside her. She’d never thought she’d feel this way with a MacPherson. She laughed and shoved him in the shoulder. “I should cuff ye for it. Did nae yer mother teach ye any manners at all?”
In that moment, he might have been anyone. Heat teased her cheeks as the moonlight highlighted his features.
He shrugged. “Nay. She died when I was still waist high.”
He turned and picked something up. It was a large wicker basket with a cloth covering the top.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He shook out the cloth and let it settle on the floor. “Yers did too, did she nae?” He offered her a hand and eased her down to the floor.
“Aye. Just after me second brother was born. Childbed fever took her. I do nae remember her.”
He set the basket between them and settled on the floor on the other side of it. He started rummaging through it. “I had to grab what I could before Duana noticed what I was about.”
He started tossing things to her. A plate, a goblet, a napkin.
“Ah…port,” he exclaimed victoriously as he held up a bottle.
“Better confess later,” she said, “else some poor kitchen lad is likely to be blamed for thieving that.” Ailis held out her goblet as Bhaic poured her some. “Duana is nae one to let something like port go unaccounted for.”
“Aye, she likes to run the kitchens her way.” Bhaic didn’t find another goblet in the basket. He shrugged and took a swig directly from the bottle. “But she’ll be doing some bending.”
She was caught in an odd moment of both embarrassment and contentment. Both stemmed from the fact that he was willing to champion her.
