Wanting more, Gregor slid his tongue along her bottom lip. Immediately her lips parted, and he was tasting her tongue, suckling and massaging between kisses. Beneath his palms he felt Morgana’s trembling increase, and in once swift motion he lifted her into his arms and brought them down into his chair.
Morgana’s sweet backside slid into his lap perfectly, and she gasped when she moved her hips and felt his hardness pressing into her. A wicked grin spread across Gregor’s face as he heard her innocent gasp, and his kisses moved down to nibble on her neck. Just as he suspected the tender kisses placed there drew another sweet moan for her lips, and Gregor became more adventurous.
As his teeth and lips took their time trailing down Morgana’s neck, his hands worked slowly over her back. When he felt brazen enough, his left hand slipped over the bodice of her dress, and he brushed his fingers gently across the tops of her breasts.
“Oh!” she gasped, the soft moan music to his ears. On his lap her hips began to move back and forth. He wondered if she even realized she was making the brazen little motion, teasing his aroused member with her sweet rhythm.
Wanting more, Gregor’s softly-stroking fingers grew bolder against her breast as his lips travelled down her delicate collarbone toward her chest. With each inch his mouth travelled her body gave a new delicious shiver, urging him to explore her more. When his lips reached the fabric of her bodice, his fingers began working at the strings.
The fabric, soft but old, gave way to his careful ministrations quickly, and her bodice opened to him. Morgana’s milky-white breasts spilled over the top, and a primal hunger took over him. His greedy mouth moved to kiss and lap over her ample cleavage. Her sighs of pleasure were turning into needy moans, urging him to take the taut, pink nipple between his lips and tease the delicate nerves that resided there.
The tender bead of flesh stood erect for his ministrations, and he took his time to explore first the right nipple, then the left. Morgana’s moans of pleasure sank deep into Gregor’s ears, spreading through his brain like one of her healing salves. Wanting to pleasure her more, his hand rose to her left breast so he could cup and massage her.
As he did so her delicate fingers ran up his scalp, sending delicious shivers down his neck. Her palm was pressing into the back of his head, urging him to take more. All too happy to oblige, Gregor roughly pulled at the dress to expose more of her beauty. He had just gotten the fabric over her shoulders when from behind him Zeus let out one of the fiercest sounds he’d ever heard from an animal.
Thoughts of Morgana splayed out naked before him quickly dissolved, and a moment later a hard rap came at the door. In an instant Gregor had Morgana’s bodice pulled back up over breasts and he had her tucked behind him.
“Ye expecting company, lass?” he asked, his voice barely above a murmur.
“Nay,” she whispered from behind him. To his surprise she stepped around him and walked toward the sleeping quarters. Another rap came at the door as she emerged seconds later with the bow she had aimed at him during their first encounter. Nocking an arrow, she pointed it toward the door and nodded at him to answer it.
Despite the potential danger, Gregor felt his arousal stir for her all over again. Scottish women were no gentle ladies, and he was used to being around women who took care of themselves in the Highlands. But the way Morgana handled herself impressed him beyond all others.
Michael, one of the castle guards, bowed low to Gregor when he answered the door, and the tension immediately left the room. He nodded to Morgana that it was safe, and she quickly lowered her bow. A low whistle came from her lips and Zeus, who was just poised for an attack, immediately relaxed and sat on his haunches.
“Apologies, Laird Henwen, Miss,” Michael offered, bowing again. “But yer uncle has sent me to get ye.”
“What the bloody hell could he possibly want at this hour?” He all but snarled. Now that he knew there was no danger his concern had been replaced with annoyance.
Instead of immediately answering, Michael’s eyes travelled from Gregor’s ruffled appearance to Morgana’s bruised lips and half-opened bodice. When his eyes lingered on Morgana, Gregor felt a sliver of possessiveness slice through him, and he stepped directly between them.
“Unless ye want the arse beating of yer lifetime lad, I suggest ye keep yer eyes on me and tell me why you are disturbing the Lady’s home at such late an hour,” Gregor threatened.
Michael’s eyes quickly snapped back to the Laird of Henwen’s face.
“Aye, Laird Henwen,” he said, bowing again. “It’s the grain mill, thieves have struck again. Our guards were able to catch one of them.”
Gregor ran a frustrated hand through his hair and cursed under his breath. He didn’t want to leave Morgana. Not now, and not so abruptly like he had before. But he was the Laird of Henwen, and thieves were something that had to be dealt with immediately. Gregor ordered Michael to wait for him outside, and the man left immediately.
“Lass, I’m sorry but I…”
“Go,” she encouraged, her expression calm. “Your people need you.”
Aye, but what if I need you?
He imagined her naked and moaning for him once more, and his eyes grew dark. Gregor’s jaw ticked, and he fought the urge to throw it all to the wind and drag her into his arms again.
“I’ll send a guard out in the morn’ to bring ye to the castle,” he told her, lifting her hand to his lips. “I hear ye will be joining me aunts in some dress designing.”
Morgana laughed, relaxing. “So I’ve been told,” she replied playfully.
He kissed her knuckles warmly, then pulled her into his arms to kiss her lips. When he pulled away, his entire body expressed its displeasure in doing so. But there was a thief to deal with and a village to protect. Gregor looked over at Zeus, and the dog met his gaze.
“Keep her safe,” he commanded, and the animal responded with a sharp bark.
Chapter 15
Castle Henwen, Three Weeks Later
Giddiness coursed through Morgana as the servants rushed about her, oohing and ahhing over the three dresses that had just come back from the seamstress. As she looked over them, she recalled the last three weeks of her life and reflected in awe. In the time that had passed since she’d left the village, her entire life had seemed to turn upside down in the most positive of ways.
As Gregor had promised, a guard had come the next morning to take her to the castle. To her pleasure and surprise, the guard, whom she was urged to call Tomlin, had brought her a Highland pony to ride as a gift from the Laird.
It was a beautiful caramel-brown mare with a blonde mane and tail and dark, oaky brown eyes. She was well trained and very calm, even around Zeus, who sniffed at her with open curiosity. The two bonded immediately and she named her Cinnamon. Atop Cinnamon’s back sat a beautiful brown leather saddle with purple thistles embroidered into it.
Then, the welcome she received at the castle was almost overwhelming. Never before had she seen so many people, so many strangers happy to see her. Villagers she had saved and some she hadn’t came up to her with thanks, laying flowers and trinkets in her hands as a tribute. There were no pitch forks, no sideways glances or lewd grabs at her person.
Instead there were big smiles, warm thanks, and kind words. As they promised, Alice and Erica had greeted her warmly, hugging her and ushering her into Alice’s quarters so they could look through the fabrics and threads and shoes that traders had brought to the castle. As if she were a normal woman, Morgana had oohed and aahed over the cloths, appreciating them for their texture but had no idea what they were called. She only knew cotton and linen so the terms, silk, satin, were strange to her.
Finally, and with the help of Alice and Erica, whom she had quickly felt at ease with, she had picked out the materials for three dresses. Afterwards they had adjourned to the gardens, where a small feast and tea had been laid out for them. Over the food they told her of the ball they were planning to throw in honor of the villa
ge’s recovery, and announced that she was to be their esteemed guest.
At first Morgana had balked at the idea, but after some gentle persuasion she had agreed to come. Since then she had spent an equal amount at the castle and at her cottage on Tily’s farm. She had become the unofficial healer of the village and now that she had gained the trust of the locals, she was constantly busy.
So busy in fact that Gregor had sent the twins to her again to help with her crops so she could keep up with her demands. The boys, eager to learn from her, always arrived on time and were keen for her instructions. She had grown rather fond of them, and so had Zeus, who had taken to choosing time between guarding them and guarding her.
And then there was Gregor himself. The handsome black-bearded Laird of Henwen that made her feel things she never knew she could. Through the course of the last three weeks they had shared many passionate kisses in darkened corners of the castle and under star-covered skies at her cottage.
She knew, in the back of her mind, that to trust a man was only asking for trouble. Yet when he appeared, all she wanted was to be in his arms, to hear him speak and laugh. He made her feel at ease in a way she had never experienced before, as if her past wasn’t actually hers, but just a horrible story she knew from some other poor soul.
Being in the castle more often, she was able to see just how busy being the Laird of Henwen kept him. Unlike the nobles she’d seen in England, Gregor handled every problem that was brought to him himself. Every day he was with someone new, working with his people to solve their problems. He had a passion for his people, and she could see that he genuinely cared for each and every one of them.
Except perhaps, for the priest. Father Monahan had continued to express to him and anyone who would listen his displeasure in having Morgana in the castle, let alone the village. Word had gotten back to both her and Gregor that his Sunday preachings had become nothing but warnings against witches and evil women disguised as angels.
Gregor had been livid, but Morgana had urged him to simply ignore the talk. She knew the man’s mind was made up and there was nothing she could do it about it. Besides, if anyone was actually listening to him they didn’t show it around her. In fact the more he seemed to preach, the busier she became.
“Me lady,” the servant girl named Ava addressed her. Morgana pulled herself away from her reflections, and she looked up at the young woman with a smile.
“I’ve told you, Ava, I’m not a Lady. Please, call me Morgana,” she insisted. In response the servant curtsied.
“Aye, me la–I mean Morgana. The Ladies Alice and Erica are here to see ye.”
Morgana quickly told Ava to usher them in, and three women greeted each other with hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Behind them, to her delight, came Tily and Zeus. It had been ages since she’d seen the old woman and it filled her with happiness to see her.
“Me God lass!” Tily exclaimed as she held Morgana out at arm’s length. “Would ye look at ye!” She spun Morgana around, inspecting her from all angles and making her laugh.
“Ye look like a brand new woman!”
“I do?” Morgana asked, blushing.
“It’s good to see the light in yer eyes, lass,” the woman replied, her voice full of emotion.
“Aye,” Alice agreed, grinning. “Ye’ve really blossomed, darlin’.”
“All thanks to you,” she replied sheepishly. Not good with compliments, she moved the conversation toward her dress choices and the four women went about choosing the right one for the night’s festivities.
During their shopping Morgana had picked out two different designs. One of her dresses was designed in a simple peasant pattern, with a low scooped bodice, cinched waist. With a twist she had the dressmaker make sleeves that fell nearly to the ground. For this she’d picked a green brocade that reminded her of Gregor’s eyes.
The other two were much more formal and were picked at the insistence of Alice and Erica. One, an ice blue that matched her eyes perfectly was designed similarly to the green dress. Made of silk, the neckline and the borders of the sleeves had been decorated with glittering jewels and thread. Down the front of the bodice in gold thread, a beautiful pattern had been sewn in, meant to accentuate the waist.
Finally, the dark red one was the fanciest of them all. Unlike the other two patterns, this one hid her figure chastely. The neckline buttoned up all the way to her throat. The sleeves of the dress pulled tight around her wrists, but billowed out at the elbows, and the skirt of it was made with so many folds of fabric that it made a bell around her waist.
Because of its unusual make, she had chosen to not add any other accessories to the dress. Instead, she chose to let the boldness of the color speak for itself. Never in her life had she owned such finery. In fact, she felt silly for even having it made, but Alice and Erica had insisted upon it.
“Which one ye be wearin’ tonight?” Tily asked, eyeing the red one.
“This one!” Alice urged, pointing to the red one as well. “It matches yer hair so well!”
Morgana laughed at their enthusiasm, but shook her head. She had spent all night comparing the dresses and her heart was set on the blue. To her, it was the perfect blend of her personal style and the castle’s more elegant air. Instead of trying to pressure her otherwise, the other women praised her for her choices and left her to begin to get ready.
Chapter 16
Tired and sore from handling matters in the village, Gregor entered his room and headed toward his filled wooden tub. By standing order, his bath was filled daily with fresh water, always ready for use.
His mind only focused on getting clean, Gregor began to strip away his sweat-stained clothes. The day had been hot and irritating, and he wanted it all washed from him. Just as he shed his trousers and braies, he heard a high-pitched feminine gasp.
Gregor’s head swiveled door and to his horror he saw Morgana there. Her mouth was screwed tight, obviously trying not to smile as she caught a full look at his nude figure.
“God’s teeth, woman!” he exclaimed, stepping immediately into his tub. The water came up to his waist quickly, hiding his treasures. “Didnae anyone tell ye to nae sneak up on a man like that?”
Unable to hold back her laughter any longer, Morgana erupted into giggles.
“Excuse me, my humble Laird,” she replied through the laughter. “I never meant to spy on you. But you do make a lovely show.”
Gregor smiled at her playfulness, and relaxed a little more into the tub.
“I suppose ye may have a point,” he relented. The two smiled at each other warmly. Morgana’s wild curls had been pinned atop of her head, but a few had sprung free and curled delicately around her face. Her dress clung to her body in ways that had him wanting to hide her away from the world.
“Do you like what you see?”
Gregor dragged his eyes away from Morgana’s chest and met her gaze with a boyish grin. A playful laugh bubbled from her beautiful mouth as he smiled, and he relaxed. In the last few weeks it had been his pleasure to watch Morgana come out of her shell. She had always been kind and intelligent, but at ease she was also playful and even at times flirtatious with him.
“Very much so,” he replied wickedly. “If I weren’t a gentleman lass…”
She raised her eyebrow coyly, the smile widening over her closed lips. “Well, then I guess I’m quite the lucky lass then.”
Och, ye have no idea.
Although he still held Isabel and Ian in his heart and thought of them often, his heartache over losing them was slowly subsiding. He still visited their grave, but now it was after getting a peaceful night’s sleep. Erotic thoughts of long nights with Morgana had been seeping into his mind, and he didn’t quite hate how they distracted him.
No longer did he just go through his day because it was expected of him. Instead, he woke up each morning feeling energized and focused, and he knew it was because of Morgana. She was bringing out the best in him.
He gestured for her
to come closer but she did not move.
“Excited for tonight?” he asked. Morgana’s smile faltered just a little, but she nodded her head.
Morgana’s eyes dipped, “That’s what I came to talk to you about. I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” she whispered.
He wanted to reach out for her and comfort her but remembered he was naked. “It will be well, I promise ye. Ye’ve done our entire village an incredible service and ye deserve to be celebrated.”
“Until this evening then, Laird Henwen,” Morgana bid sweetly.
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