Enough. He remembered the blood, the screaming, the accusations as Lenore lay dying. Did he really want to risk that again, especially with a treasure like Caitlyn? He was a bastard. It made no difference if he had an heir or not. The attraction to her would wear off. It had to, with time and exposure and a concerted effort not to be near her, not to touch her or look in her beguiling eyes. He would assign keepers to her and let her go where she wanted, do what she wanted, see who she wanted, as long as she left him alone.
And Henna would look after her too. She had already taken the girl firmly under her wing. It would be fine. He would just avoid her until he sorted out what to do, how to deal with her, how to keep his vile desires from ruining her life. He was a strong man. He could bear anything. As long as he didn’t see her naked. By God, as long as he wasn’t inflicted with that. As long as he didn’t have to see the curve of her hips tapering down to her delicately round... God help him.
He imagined for the hundredth time pulling her over his lap to run his hands over her shapely bottom. Rubbing it, cupping it, parting the cheeks to caress her and make her moan. Landing a sharp smack, watching her jump, feeling her twist against him. His cock was rock hard again. He took it in his hand with a sigh. How he would love to belabor her beautiful bottom, make it scarlet and sore, and then pull her up in his arms and soothe her, make it all better by impaling her on his cock—ah—
Masturbation was getting him nowhere. Even after the climax, the desire was still there. He turned on his side, determined to salvage what he could of the night, determined to sleep.
Determined to forget about the girl who’d stoked such dangerous fires back to life.
Chapter Three
Cait slept long, long past morning. When she awakened she had no idea what time it was, only that the sun was high in the sky. She had nothing to wear aside from the sheer shift. In fact there was nothing in the room she occupied except for the bed she lay on and a wooden chair beside it.
She remembered then what Henna had told her the night before, that the earl slept in the room adjoining hers. She pulled a blanket around her shoulders and crept over to the door in the wall and put her ear to it. She heard no sound. She unlocked it, trying not to make any noise. Slowly she opened the door until there was a small crack to peek through. She saw his massive bed, rumpled and unmade, but he wasn’t in it. Of course, he was not the sort of man to lie in bed all day. He’d probably been up at dawn working, fighting, whatever the king’s men did. She spun as the door to her own room opened and Henna bustled in. Cait guiltily shut the door to the earl’s room and leaned back against it.
Henna laughed. “Oh lass, you look like the cat that stole the buttermilk. Take a look if it pleases ya. He’s not there.”
“Where is he?”
“Down on the practice fields, I gather, or meeting with his men in the hall. Take a look. He has nothing to hide from you.”
“What if he catches me? He’ll be angry.”
“Of course he won’t. He’s your husband.”
“I better not,” she said, even though she really wanted to go in and lie in his bed and breathe in the smell of him.
“Well, I’ve brought you some breakfast,” Henna said, laying a heavily laden tray on the chair beside Cait’s bed. “And I’ve set the seamstress to sewing a gown for you too. It should be done shortly. Something simple to keep you warm until you choose fabric for more fashionable dresses. The earl will want you to have several pretty gowns, I’m sure.”
“Will he?” Cait was skeptical. She sat on the bed and picked at the tray. The fresh bread and milk looked and smelled wonderful, but she didn’t feel like eating.
“Go on, now,” Henna urged. “You’re far too thin. I’ll be unhappy if you don’t eat it, lass.”
Slowly, Cait forced herself to eat. She would have given anything for this warm, delicious food on the journey here, but now it didn’t appeal to her. She wondered when she would see the earl again.
“May I walk around the grounds, around the castle?” asked Cait.
“You certainly may. The earl wishes for you to have a guard at all times though. You can’t go wandering around alone, being his wife and the king’s daughter.”
“Why? Am I in danger?”
“Of course not, lass, but you can never be too careful. Someone has a tiff with the king, or an itch to ransom the wife of the Earl of Inverness, you know how it is.”
“Ransom? I never thought of such a thing.”
“Well, there’s bandits about who’ll think of almost anything to gain some coin by ill means. You shouldn’t forget that. Just stay by your guard and you’ll be perfectly safe. You’re to be allowed to go wherever you wish as long as you don’t go by yourself.”
“Oh,” said Cait. “I guess I can do that.”
After breakfast Cait’s new gown still wasn’t ready, so she put on the gown from the day before and decided to wander around. Her guard, a young soldier named Mitchum, looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else than tagging along after her. But duty was duty, she supposed, and if the earl wanted him to follow her around, it wasn’t her fault. She explored every inch of the castle from top to bottom, strolled around the grounds, and even ventured a short distance into the town.
She walked everywhere and looked everywhere but not once did she manage to catch sight of the man she wanted to see. Him. The Devil. Her husband.
She might have asked Mitchum where he was if she wasn’t so embarrassed, and if he didn’t have such an annoyed frown on his face. She would have asked Henna, but she kept so busy with the running of the castle all day that Cait was loathe to disturb her. She wished she would just run into him. She didn’t know why she wanted to see him so much. She was curious, that was all. And lonely. And she wanted him to touch her hand again.
But no, she saw him nowhere. For all she knew, he might have ridden off to another town for the day or the week or...God, she hoped not...the month. Dejected, she returned to the castle. Her guard dropped her off with relief at her room. Again, skittishly, she cracked open the door to his bedroom but no, no sign of him there.
After a moment’s hesitation she slipped into the silent room, shutting the door behind her. It was much larger than her room, which made sense because he was so much larger than she. It was not much more furnished though. The large bed, a couple of chairs, a chest in the corner. A couple of weapons leaning against the wall she was afraid to touch, although she looked at them closely, frightening as they were.
Against her better judgment, she went to his bed and crawled into it, not worrying overmuch about jostling the bedding since he apparently never made his bed. The sheets were tangled in a ball. How he must toss and turn in his sleep! She smoothed them out carefully. If he caught her now she could just claim she was straightening his room. Wasn’t that something any good wife would do? She ran her hand across the pillow, then lay down to rest her cheek upon it. It smelled clean and bracing and yes, it smelled of him. She breathed in and out, long and slow. Perhaps she would just lie here a minute and rest. He wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. What would it hurt, anyway? She was his wife after all.
* * * * *
Henna bustled down the hall carrying Cait’s gown in her arms, and a warmer shift for sleeping that she hoped would please her.
“Good afternoon, Mitchum lad,” she said to the surly soldier sitting in a chair outside her room. “What are ya doing? Surely the earl doesn’t expect you to wait here at her door?”
“Yes, ma’am, he does. He says when you’re not with her, I’m to be, and wherever she is I’m to be there too.”
“Well, no one’s going to snatch her from her own bedroom, I gather. But I suppose you must listen to your lord.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said. He was glad he had only one day of this duty a week. Following a girl around was a hell of a job for a soldier like him. The other men would be snickering behind their hands at him if they could see him sitting outside her door like some blasted
lady in waiting.
“Oh, now, it wasn’t that difficult, was it?” chided Henna. “Was the lass such a trial to you? Such a frown!”
“No, she wasn’t any trouble, but she did run all over the place, and the earl gave me strict orders to—”
“To what?” prompted Henna suspiciously.
“To be sure she stayed out of his way,” said Mitchum. “He said to keep her out of his sight as much as I could.”
“Really?” said Henna, her eyes narrowing. “He said that, did he? I wonder why. Well.” She would have a talk with him about that. What a thing to say about his new wife, and to her guard no less. It was absolutely churlish.
“Do you think she’s sleeping?” Henna asked. “How long has she been within?”
“An hour at least, perhaps more.”
Henna knocked softly. There was no answer. She opened the door a crack to peek inside, then swung it open, looking all around. “She’s not here! She’s not here at all, Mitchum! You’ve lost her already!”
“Oh, holy God,” he said, leaping to his feet.
* * * * *
Duncan was going to kill that boy Mitchum. How difficult could it be to keep track of one mousy girl? He would deal with him later. For now, he had soldiers searching the castle grounds for Cait while he combed the woods around the keep. For God’s sake, he had plenty of important work to be doing besides looking for her. He tried to convince himself his agitated state was only frustration, but in truth his heart was hammering anxiously in his chest. He had enemies and so did the king, and there were bandits in the woods around Inverness just as there were bandits everywhere. The idea of someone taking her, of her in fright, in peril...
He nudged his horse to a gallop and took off in the other direction. His men met him in a clearing.
“Nothing. No sign of her, Lord Duncan. But she couldn’t have gone far. Mitchum said he’d seen her an hour before—”
“Mitchum is an idiot who’s not to be trusted. No sign of her in town?”
“Perhaps we should search the castle proper again. Check in some of the unused rooms,” suggested Connor. “She could be hiding.”
Duncan scowled at him. “Hiding? What the hell for? What are you trying to say?”
“I’m not trying to say anything,” Connor hedged. “But many a bride wakes up from her wedding night confused and upset.”
“Not my bride. She has no reason to be hiding. Believe me.”
Still, the men wheeled their mounts around to return to the keep. Forget about Mitchum, thought Duncan. When he got hold of her, he was going to let her know exactly and in no uncertain terms what running away and hiding from him resulted in, and it would be very difficult for her to sit down after that lesson had been taught.
“Any sign of her?” he asked Henna when he entered the courtyard.
“No, my lord. Oh, dear, where could she have gone?”
“You spoke to her this morning? What was her demeanor?”
“Oh, she was just normal. I don’t know. She had little appetite, but I’d no thought she would go running off. I don’t think she’s run off at all. I think someone’s taken her!”
“From the third floor of the keep? I doubt it. She’s hiding. I want her found.”
He strode into the hall and up the stone stairs, Henna tripping at his heels.
“What will ya do to her when you find her? You must be gentle with her. She never asked to come here and be your bride—”
“Silence!” he said. “I will deal with my wife as I choose.”
He took the stairs two at a time, leaving Henna behind him, and barged into his room to pick up the weapons he’d left behind. He was halfway back to the door when he stopped short, staring in disbelief.
The lass every man in the castle was searching for was fast asleep on his bed.
Not just on his bed. The blasted wench was in it, snuggled right under his blankets making herself at home. He strode to the door and yelled down the hall.
“Did no one think to check my room? Call off the blasted search, you sorry lot of idiots!”
He slammed the door and turned on Cait, who was now very much awake. She inched from the bed, hopped down to the floor, and at the look on his face, sidled around to the other side.
“What were you doing in here?” The quiet, controlled tone of his voice belied the anger bubbling beneath.
“I—I fell asleep. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“You have your own room. Your own bed to sleep in,” he reminded her tightly. “I’ll ask you once again. What were you doing in here?”
“I just... I came in to look...to see if you were here. I hadn’t seen you all day.”
“There is a reason for that. I’m a very busy man and I don’t have time to act as playmate to my wife. If you wish for company you can look for it elsewhere. I’m sure the women of the keep will be happy to comply.”
“Oh,” she murmured miserably.
“My men have been combing the woods for you for an hour. They have been over every inch of the castle and grounds in search of you—”
“I was right here!”
“Don’t interrupt me,” he snapped, “or things will go very badly for you. I assigned a guard to you so I would know at all times that you are safe. He is now in grave dishonor because of your capricious behavior. I don’t care what you decide to do, but from now on, if you leave your room your guard is to know exactly where you are. Do you understand me?”
“But, sir—”
“Do you understand?” he barked.
She bowed her head. “Yes.”
“Repeat it to me.”
“I’m to make sure my guard knows where I am at all times. Whenever I leave my room,” she whispered.
“Furthermore, you will remember that this is my room. My room. You are not permitted in my room, and certainly not in my bed. From now on you are not to set foot in this room no matter how much you wish to know if I am here. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, her eyes filling with tears.
Tears. She wouldn’t sway him with those tears. He pressed on, angrier at himself than with her. He had to hurt her. He had to make her see that for her own good, she had to leave him alone.
“And listen to me now, little Cait. You may be the king’s own daughter, but you will not be permitted to do whatever you please. If I find you in this room again, you will be punished. Severely punished. And I promise you, if you ever go missing again through your own carelessness, if you ever leave your guard without an idea of your whereabouts, you will rue the day you were born. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, sir.” She swiped away the tears as they fell. Tears like little diamonds. He wished he could catch every one of them and put them back from whence they came. It was for her own good, her own good. He would punish her if she couldn’t abide by his rules. They were for her. He tried to convince himself of that as he pointed to her door and watched her slink out of his room.
Henna shut the door behind her, shooting him a reproachful look. Of course she had listened to every word of his harangue. She would rake him over the coals for it later. So be it. He could handle Henna much more easily than the other one, the beautiful, lonely, needy one with the pale blue eyes. He sat on the edge of the bed, tried not to remember how charming she looked curled up in the middle of his bed. Her arms had been wrapped about his pillow as if she embraced it. As if she embraced him. He imagined embracing her, taking her in his arms, parting her legs and plunging deep inside—
Gods, it was farcical. Not only was she innocent as a newborn, she also obviously had no inkling of what went on in the marriage bed. But maybe...maybe he could use that to his advantage. How was she to know that the things he wanted to demand of her were not what every man demanded of his wife?
No. She would instinctively know his requests were unnatural, just as Lenore had known even though she’d been virginal as a nun when she came to him. Women knew. He couldn’t bear to have those
innocent, beautiful eyes turn on him in condemnation. Better to leave things as they were. Her tears would dry. Life would go on, somehow, some way. But God, if he wasn’t a miserable fool.
* * * * *
Caitlyn was absent from the dinner table, and while Duncan wasn’t surprised, he wasn’t exactly relieved either. He had hoped to see her at dinner if only to reassure himself that her tears were gone, that she was all right. That she was coming to accept the way things needed to be between them.
Henna was only too happy to inform him of Cait’s demeanor as soon as she caught him alone, and her report wasn’t good.
“She cried for two hours, lad. I hope you’re happy with yourself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a loving display of husbandly care and concern.”
“Henna, please, I’ve just eaten. Be so kind as to not ruin my digestion.”
“You ruined hers! She’s so upset and hurt I couldn’t get her to eat one bite. What is this game you’re playing with her?”
“No game. I won’t coddle the girl. She can’t be expecting me to hold her hand all day and sing love poems to her and play pat-a-cake.”
“Oh, please, you don’t fool me for a second. This has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Lenore.”
“Don’t.” His face grew hard. “Don’t, Henna.”
“Well, it’s not fair to her. It’s not. I can tell already this girl is nothing like Lenore. Nothing, and yet you treat her as if—”
“I treat her as if she’s an unwanted infringement on my time and patience, which she is.”
“How cold you are. The lass is lonely and confused. All she wants from you is a smile, a kiss on the cheek, some indication that you don’t despise her. Did you really tell her guard to keep her away from ya? How rude, how perfectly horrid for a husband to behave!”
Cait and the Devil Page 3
