Not Mine to Give

by Laura Landon

  “Our marriage has not been consummated,” she repeated, her voice shaking. “I’m going to London. Considering the special circumstances surrounding our marriage, I’m sure the bishop will—”

  “Nay!” Blinding shards of pain slashed through his head, then stabbed into his chest to reach his heart. “You are my wife. I will na let you go.”

  “What good is it for me to stay?”

  Duncan crossed to where Katherine stood and grasped her shoulders. “You will na leave me, Kate.”

  “Why? You don’t want me.”

  “I wish to God I didn’t.” Duncan looked at her and understood more clearly than ever before how much he wanted her. He had never wanted anyone more. Every emotion in his body told him so. She was his. He had chosen her.

  “I will always be English,” she whispered.

  “You will always be my wife.” He pulled her close and lowered his head to capture her mouth in a blinding kiss.

  By the saints, he couldn’t lose her. No matter what else, he could not lose the woman who had braved Bolton in the dungeon to try to free him. He could not lose the woman who gave life to every emotion he thought died when he found his parents slaughtered. He could not lose the woman he’d chosen as his wife for all time.

  He lifted his mouth and looked into Kate’s eyes. She didn’t believe him. He could see it written there. He covered her mouth again, drinking from her, teasing, touching, tormenting.

  She held herself stiffly in his arms, pushing her arms against his chest, fighting to make him stop. But he would not.

  He tried to be gentle, but he could not. She wanted to leave him. He was desperate to make her want to stay.

  She turned her head away from him, trying to avoid his kisses. Duncan wrapped one arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. He raked the fingers of his other hand through her hair, cupping her head in his massive grip so she couldn’t escape him.

  He opened his mouth atop hers, running the tip of his tongue over her lips until she moaned a loud sigh of agony. She opened to him and he entered her warm cavern, seeking, finding. He had this one chance to prove he wanted her as his wife. This last chance to erase the ghosts that had haunted him since he’d found his family slaughtered.

  He deepened his kisses, reveling in the hot, searing pulses that caused a burning ache deep in his gut. He needed her. He wanted her. As badly as he’d ever wanted a woman in his whole life. He pulled her up against him and ran his hands over her body, cupping her backside, pressing her fully against him.

  Blazing arrows of fire coursed to every part of him. He let his hands roam over her, kneading the heels of his hands against the small of her back. Listening to the soft moans echo in the back of her throat.

  He lifted his mouth from hers and took in huge, gasping breaths of air. She panted just as hard. “You will na leave me, Kate,” he whispered in her ear, then moved his kisses lower, to the tender spot on the side of her neck. He trailed his kisses downward, pulling at the lacing on the gown she wore. The material ripped and he pulled it harder until her breasts were bared.

  Duncan uttered a breathless moan, then kissed her again. He brushed his fingertips against the snowy whiteness of her flesh, reveling in the silky feel of her skin. He kissed her there, moving from one breast to the other.

  She clung to him when her knees buckled, and with a loud moan of surrender, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to him.

  She was his wife.

  He would forget that she was English, and only remember that she was his wife.

  …

  Katherine lolled her head back on her shoulders and cursed her traitorous body for reacting to his touch. She cursed her traitorous body for desiring his kisses. She cursed her body again, and gave in to the cataclysmic emotions racing through her.

  She’d always known his kisses held a special power over her, but she had no idea his touch could do what it did. A burning heat spread from the tips of her toes to the ends of her fingers. Every part of her tingled.

  She skimmed her hands over the taut flesh at his sides, then touched the tight cords across his shoulders and down his arms until his muscles quivered in response. She’d been so sure of her decision to leave him, knew it was the only option open to her. Until he’d held her, and kissed her, and touched her like he was now.

  His hands pulled at her clothing, ripping what would not come off easily. Cool air washed over her body. She welcomed its relief. Her body burned. His touch did that to her. This was indeed a torment she had never believed possible. Every inch of her flesh where his lips touched and his fingers caressed, blazed. The path his touch forged was as straight as a marksman’s arrow, spiraling to the very core of her being.

  He stepped away from her and pulled his clothing over his head. Then picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He covered her with his body. The weight of him atop her sent waves of thunder crashing against her ears. The feel of his naked flesh created a firestorm of heat.

  She raked her fingers through his thick, dark hair, and pulled his mouth down to hers. She closed her eyes to millions of emotions that rushed through her, hypnotizing her mind, body, and soul. She should stop him. Once he took her, there would be no going back.

  His mouth opened over hers while his hands skimmed every inch of her nakedness. He ran the tip of his tongue over her lips until she moaned a loud sigh of agony and lifted her head to meet him. He dared to breach the entrance to her mouth, and she surrendered with something near desperation.

  His hands cupped her face on either side while his thumbs rubbed lazy circles on her cheeks. A bolt of molten heat spiraled to the pit of her stomach, to that newly discovered place Duncan had awakened with his first kiss. She could not control the emotions raging within her.

  His hands moved over her skin, over her shoulders and down the sides of her body. His long, muscled fingers skimmed the edges of her breasts, the curve of her waist, and the rounding of her hips. She did not know a man’s touch could make her feel this way, could make her crave something she couldn’t explain.

  “You are beautiful, Kate. You are truly beautiful.”

  He raised above her on his elbows and looked into her eyes, then lowered his mouth to her again. He kissed her deep, drawing from her, giving to her, imploring and demanding from her.

  And then his kisses moved. First to the spot below her ear, then down her neck, then to the full rise of her breasts. Katherine grasped her hands around the sinewy cords on his arms and held tight. She needed to touch him. She needed to feel him close to her. She needed more of him.

  As if he sensed what she wanted, he covered first one breast with his mouth, then the other. Katherine’s head lowered to the pillow as she arched her back to give him more of herself. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t wait. “Duncan, please.”

  “Aye, lass.”

  He positioned himself over her, then kissed her again. His kisses became even more demanding, and all the while he tortured her with his lips, his hands stoked the fire on her skin. He moved over her flesh until she could do nothing but writhe and moan beneath him.

  His fingers touched that secret place deep within her, and she arched against him and shattered into a million pieces. She wanted this. She wanted more.

  “There will be pain this first time, Kate. I wish it were na so, but it is the way of things.”

  She felt him come into her and knew he was trying to be as gentle as possible, but heaven help her, the pain was unlike any she had imagined. A ragged moan tore from the back of her throat and she pushed against his shoulders, struggling to free herself.

  “Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight, lass.”

  She couldn’t do it. Instead, she turned her head and pushed against him again.

  “Put your arms around me.”

  With a shuddering gasp, Katherine wrapped her arms around his neck and held on with all her strength. Tiny tears welled in her eyes, threat
ening to spill down her cheeks. She breathed a relieved sigh when his mouth covered hers again and he kissed her.

  His tongue urged her to open for him and the moment she did, he thrust his hips forward and entered her. A sharp, searing pain, worse than any she had expected, stabbed through her body. She clenched her fingers on the corded muscles expanding his shoulders as he covered her mouth to muffle her scream.

  He clamped his arms around her and held her tight. “Do na move, Kate. Hold yourself verra still and the pain will ease.”

  Tears filled her eyes, then ran down her cheeks.

  He kissed her lightly. “It will never be like this again, lass. I promise.” He kissed her again. “Is your pain gone?”

  “Nearly.”

  He kissed her again.

  Oh, how she loved his kisses. If he would just be content to do no more. But just as that thought entered her mind, he moved within her. She braced herself for more pain, but it did not come.

  “Now I will show you what it will be like,” he whispered in her ear.

  Ever so slowly, he moved within her until all thoughts vanished from her mind and all reasoning ceased to exist. Again and again he thrust until he had carried her to a place far above her. Faster and faster he moved, and higher and higher they climbed, until she soared somewhere above even the clouds.

  Just as her tears had made the candlelight streak bright white arches above her, so had her passion left a trail of sparkling embers. She shattered to a million twinkling starbursts and simply floated.

  Duncan stilled above her, then trembled in her arms. He released a loud moan and collapsed with his face nestled against her neck. Katherine held him tight as he gasped for breath with her.

  A heavy sheen of perspiration covered his body, and she skimmed her fingers over the rippling muscles of his shoulders and down the banded cords of his arms. The pounding of his heart echoed in her ears. She lifted her head to touch her lips to his skin.

  Everything had changed. With this one act, everything had changed.

  From the moment she had accepted Duncan’s proposal, she’d thought she could be a wife to him with no risk to herself. She thought she could use him to escape a life of torture with Bolton, profit from his protection, yet keep the one thing he wanted away from him.

  She still thought she could. Only now she knew the price she would pay. Now she knew how easy it would be to lose her heart, and how easily Duncan could hurt her if he possessed it.

  Katherine blinked away the tears that welled in her eyes. Duncan seemed no more in control than she. As she listened to his ragged breathing, a cold hand squeezed her heart. Leaving was no longer an option. Her small circle of safety had grown considerably smaller.

  “Are you all right, Kate?”

  “I am more than all right,” she breathed.

  He rolled to the side and pulled her up against him.

  She placed her arm around his chest and snuggled closer. She welcomed the blanket he threw over them.

  “I could na let you go,” he whispered, then breathed a deep sigh.

  Katherine didn’t ask why. The answer was better left unsaid.

  The fire had gone out in the grate. She should be cold, but she wasn’t. She should feel something, but she didn’t.

  …

  The Ferguson had taken her as his wife. Even though she was English. Even though he loved another, he had consummated their marriage. Leaving was no longer an option.

  Katherine swallowed a cry of despair.

  He moved away from her and slipped out of the bed, his absence creating a cold void.

  “I must go downstairs to speak with Malcolm,” he said lifting his shirt over his shoulders.

  Katherine remembered the feel of his muscled flesh beneath her fingers. She couldn’t lift her gaze from his body. “Are you worried the McGowans haven’t left?” she asked, pulling the covers up to warm the chill his leaving caused.

  “It does na hurt to check.”

  Katherine watched him go, then sat up in bed and wrapped her arms around her knees. His absence would give her time to be alone with her thoughts. Time to pray for another answer. For God to give her a sign to tell her what to do.

  She crawled out of bed and washed in the basin on the stand, then put on a clean gown and went to the chapel to pray. She and her mother and Elizabeth had always spent time each morning and each evening in prayer. It was a habit she had not given up. Now, the time she spent talking to God was even more important than ever. Never had she needed God’s help more than she did now.

  She took a deep breath and repeated her heartfelt petition that God would forgive her sins, curb her wicked tongue, and watch over Duncan and all the Fergusons who would go to England with him. She added a special request for them to return with Brenna unharmed.

  Then, she prayed that somehow she would find a way to get the crown and return it to England.

  Before she finished, Katherine clasped her hands tighter and added one more prayer. She pleaded that God would protect her heart from a man who would, when she gave the crown to her father, regret having made her his wife.

  She was so deep in prayer she didn’t hear the door open behind her. It wasn’t until she heard the soft patter of footsteps that she realized she wasn’t the only one who had come to the chapel to pray.

  She made the sign of the cross, then whispered her final amen. She made to rise, but before she could get to her feet, a jolt unlike any she’d ever felt exploded behind her eyes, sending bright, searing stabs of pain to every part of her body.

  She reached for the railing, but her hand grasped only air. Release from the excruciating agony came fast and complete, taking away the hurt, and cloaking her in blessed numbness.

  …

  Duncan opened the door to his chamber and searched the darkness for Kate. He breathed a deep breath, praying he’d done the right thing. She had been going to leave him.

  He thought of the way she’d stood up to him. The way she’d fought with him, battled him, and reasoned with him. The way she’d given herself to him with more openness and uninhibited abandon than he thought it was possible to receive from a woman.

  He walked toward the bed, aching to hold her in his arms again. To make love to her as he had earlier. His heart clenched in his chest with an uncomfortable sense of longing he pushed aside.

  Duncan lit a candle from the torch on the wall outside. He had stayed downstairs talking to Malcolm and Angus far too long and had lost track of the time. Only one more day and he would leave to get Brenna back from England. Only one more day and Bolton would be dead. Duncan closed his eyes and savored the sweet taste of revenge.

  He sat on the stool beside the bed to remove his boots, then lifted the candle. Kate had probably fallen asleep long ago. He stood and stared at the empty bed, the covers still rumpled from their lovemaking. A frown covered his face. Without a doubt, she had gone to the chapel to say her evening prayers. She went there every night before she retired, just as his mother had done.

  After he returned with Brenna, he would make it his habit to go with her, as his father had gone with his mother. There were many things the two of them would make their habit once Brenna was home…

  …and Bolton was dead,

  …and Kate had given him the crown.

  Duncan crossed the room and walked down the shadowed hallway to the chapel. Last night she had been late coming back from her prayers, too. He’d waited for her, and by the time she returned, she was shivering as violently as a fish thrown out of water.

  He opened the chapel door and stopped beside the first wooden bench. His brows shot up in surprise as he looked around the room. He’d been sure he would find her here, but only one short candle flickered in the empty room.

  He closed the door behind him and went to the other rooms; Brenna’s room, his parents’ chambers, the garderobe on this level and the one below. She was in none of them. His heart tightened with a hint of anger.

  Perhaps her lovemak
ing had been an act, and she had taken the first opportunity to run away.

  “Morgana,” he yelled, walking to the room where Kate’s handmaiden stayed so she could be close to her mistress. He covered the distance to her chamber almost at a run, ignoring the blood heating in his veins.

  Morgana came to her door, pulling a covering around her night dress. “Milord?”

  “Have you seen your mistress?”

  “Not since she went to the chapel, laird.”

  Duncan was already down the hallway to search each room again when he ran into Malcolm. “Is something amiss, Duncan?”

  “Kate is na in our chamber. Have you seen her?”

  He shook his head. “She has na come down the stairs or we would have noticed.” Malcolm matched Duncan’s hurried steps as they went back to the room he shared with his wife.

  “We’ll check each room on this level again,” Duncan said, opening the door to the side room, “and if we do na find her we will search the entire keep.”

  Duncan tried to control the anger building within him. “Send someone to check with the guards at the front gate and the postern.”

  “Oh, Duncan. She would na try to leave now. Not in the dark.”

  “Send them,” Duncan ordered, his voice sounding strangely calm considering the turmoil building within him.

  Duncan checked the chambers another time and Malcolm met him at the chapel entrance. Duncan looked around the empty room then walked to the front. He lifted his eyes to the statue before him. “Do you think it possible that someone could have come for her?”

  “Nay, Duncan. The hall has been crowded all night, and Conan spent hours in a dark corner by the door, kissing that comely lass from the kitchen. His mind was occupied with other matters, but not so much that someone could have taken the mistress out of the keep without his notice.”

  “Where did you see her last, Duncan?” Malcolm asked, resting his hand on the railing next to Duncan’s.

  “In our chamber, just before I came down to you. There was nothing amiss with her, and—” Duncan stopped and cocked his head to the side to listen. “Did you hear a strange sound, Malcolm?”

  Malcolm listened, then shook his head. “Nay,” he answered, “but—”