Cait and the Devil

by Annabel Joseph

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Cait murmured. “I’m just tired.”

  “Tired?” asked Henna, perking up. “And sick? Are ya feeling ill at ease when you eat? In the mornings, is your stomach ailing you?”

  “No, not really. Why?”

  Henna shrugged. “It could be that you’re growing a baby. Have your courses come on you this month?”

  “Yes, last week.”

  “Oh.” Her face fell. “Then you couldn’t be with child, I’m afraid. That’s how you know for sure. Your courses stop.”

  “No. They’ve been coming right as rain.”

  “Well, now...I don’t know why... Are you still...you and the earl...?”

  Cait nodded emphatically.

  “That’s strange. Well, don’t you lose hope.”

  “Duncan told me babies come when they’re ready. It doesn’t depend how good or bad you are.”

  “No, it doesn’t depend on that, lass. Duncan’s right. If it did, there would be a lot less babies born into this world. If only good people could have ’em.”

  Cait frowned. “If that was true, I wouldn’t ever have been born at all, because my father is awfully bad.”

  “Is he now?” chuckled Henna. “Your father the king?”

  “He’s a king, but he was very bad to me. I don’t like him.”

  “And what of your mother, child? What kind of woman was she?”

  “A liar and a slut.”

  Henna gaped, then quickly composed herself. “Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.”

  Cait shrugged. “My father said so.”

  “And you don’t know anything else about her? Your nurse never said anything about your ma?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “You never asked? You were never curious?”

  “I think she probably had very black hair,” Cait offered mournfully.

  “Oh, dearest,” Henna said, leaning down to peck her on the cheek. “You rest now if you’re tired. Don’t let Henna upset you about where you’ve come from. What’s important is that you’re happy now. You are happy now, lass, aren’t ya?”

  “Yes, of course I am, Henna. And someday, maybe soon, a baby will grow. Then I’ll be even happier.”

  Henna frowned. “Yes, I hope so, lass. Perhaps soon.”

  * * * * *

  Henna went in search of him directly. It troubled her very much that the earl’s young wife wasn’t conceiving, especially when she seemed so disappointed about it.

  Well, Henna knew all about women and babies. She would give whatever help she could. Sometimes it was a matter of timing, or a nutritional matter. Perhaps Cait just wasn’t eating enough, or getting enough rest.

  She found him in the small room off the main hall where he often gathered his men for planning and conferences. At present he was alone—daydreaming, if she didn’t know any better. She knocked softly on the half-opened door to gain his attention.

  “Yes, Henna. What is it?”

  “Am I disturbing your peace?”

  “Peace? I have no peace,” he sighed, only half joking. “But I have time for you, if you’ve a problem or concern.”

  “Well...” Henna began, not knowing exactly how to broach the subject.

  “Let me guess, my wife is brooding up in her room again.”

  “Well, she does seem a little tired today, my lord, and a little woe-be-gone if I do say so.”

  “We had a late night. A somewhat exhausting night.”

  Henna reddened. She thought she might as well just come out and say it.

  “Why do you think the lass does not conceive?”

  Duncan stood up to stare out the window. She detected a slump to his shoulders that wasn’t normally there.

  “If you’re having problems, perhaps I can be of some assistance. There are herbs to use to make it easier to bring on a baby, certain foods that can help, and then the issue of timing—”

  “It’s not food or timing or any of those things, Henna.”

  “I know this can be a sensitive issue,” the old woman said. “I don’t mean to cause you distress. I only want to help.”

  “She does not conceive because I don’t wish it. I don’t use her that way. I thought you knew that.”

  Henna’s mouth dropped open. “But she said she’d become a true wife to you! Some three months past! And I know for a fact she shares your bed every night.”

  “Yes, very enthusiastically.”

  “She said you gave your seed to her, every day!”

  “Well, she might learn a little circumspection. Yes, it’s true that I do, but only in places that will do her no harm.”

  “What do you mean, no harm?” asked Henna, narrowing her eyes. “What on earth—”

  “Henna, it is none of your business.”

  “What are you saying? You’re using your wife in unholy, unnatural ways, while she remains a...a virgin?!”

  “Technically, I suppose she is a virgin, but in general, no, she’s no longer very pure.”

  “Oh, oh...” Henna spluttered in outrage. “I just...I never...I don’t believe—”

  “She enjoys my attentions as they are, old woman, so don’t look so horrified. And she doesn’t know any better—”

  “No, she doesn’t! When you spend in her...her mouth,” Henna moaned, “she believes you will plant a baby in her stomach! Poor misguided child—”

  “She’s not a child! And it’s not really my fault she doesn’t know, now is it? You’re a woman, why don’t you teach her the facts of life? Actually,” he muttered, reconsidering, “I’d prefer you didn’t.”

  “Oh, you’re a smug, horrid blackheart, to use her this way and snicker about it behind her back.”

  “I don’t snicker, nor am I smug or horrid. I’m very happy. We both are, not that it’s any of your concern.”

  “She’s not happy. She wants a baby!”

  “Yes, I know she does. Believe me, I know it. Don’t think this doesn’t prick at my conscience every day.”

  “And she walks around still a virgin, completely ripe for the taking by any blackguard who might have designs on her. With the king’s own blood in her, no less!”

  “What blackguard? Who wants the king’s bastard? She’ll bring no power to anyone.”

  “And what of her mother? Who on earth knows who her mother might be!”

  “Some poor victim of the king’s and nothing more, surely. Some gentlewoman or whore he forced to spread her legs. He values Cait not at all, so her mother can’t be anyone of consequence.”

  “Really? And yet she’s raised in seclusion? Hidden away in a cottage in the woods for seventeen years? Then sent to marry an earl at the edge of Scotland as soon as she’s of age, out of the eyes of the countrymen and court? It seems to me you should guard her more carefully.”

  “I do guard her, Henna. She’s guarded all day.”

  “Then at night, you wrong her, that poor innocent trusting lass. You wrong her and you know it in your heart.”

  “How do I wrong her?” he shot back, losing his temper. “Because I try to protect her from the fate that befell my first wife? Because I don’t care to see her bleed to death in pain and agony for a fate I selfishly visited on her?”

  “Duncan,” whispered Henna. “You cannot blame yourself forever. Lenore’s death was not your fault.”

  “How wasn’t it, Henna? I was the one who did it.”

  “It was just that Lenore wasn’t built for bearing children. It was an unfortunate accident. It was no one’s fault, just a tragedy and a shame. But Caitlyn, she will bear children with ease. I know this, Duncan. I’ve been a midwife for years. You fret over nothing, over something that is very unlikely to happen.”

  “Very unlikely, but there is always a chance, isn’t there? Anyway, it matters not. All that matters is that I am unwilling to take that chance again. Especially with her.”

  He left the room, slamming the door behind him. Henna stood still, shaking her head. To think of the earl’s young wife being used that way...
It made her want to weep for the poor hapless girl. She’d half a mind to steal her away and hide her from him, but she had a feeling the lass would never agree to go.

  * * * * *

  The first hot day of summer, when the sky was clear of clouds and blue as far as the eye could see, Duncan fetched his wife and told her they were going to the lake to swim. They walked up the rise together hand in hand. Cait practically danced at his side, excited to take the little trip afield.

  “It’s just a swim, Cait,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “I haven’t even brought a picnic lunch for us.”

  “I don’t care about a picnic lunch,” she said, her eyes shining. “I’m just happy to spend time with you. I never get to see you during the day. And it’s so beautiful and warm and pretty today!”

  Beautiful and warm and pretty indeed, he thought, gazing at her. She was right. They rarely saw one another in the light of day, only by the darkness of the moon, which seemed appropriate to the dark, strange love they shared. In fact, he felt as if the sunlight burned him, exposed him as the evil man he was, especially in contrast to Cait traipsing along next to him, every bit as bright as the brightness of the day. No day could ever be as lovely, as guileless, as beautiful as she. And he was truly the devil—dishonest and deceiving and black in his soul.

  “Why do you frown so?” she asked, peering up at him.

  He forced a smile to allay her sudden alarm. “No reason.”

  Her face fell. “I know you have other, more important things to do.”

  “No, that is not it at all, Cait. I promise you have very little idea what I am truly thinking most of the time.”

  Why had he said that? She too forced a smile. He would rather have seen her frown, seen her cry bitter accusing tears, than force that false smile to her face. He’d wanted to do this to give her pleasure, but as usual he was making a mess of things.

  “I’m sorry, Cait. I have too many things on my mind that trouble me, but they are no fault of yours. Don’t let me spoil all our fun. Make me smile. Let’s while away a few hours at the lake.”

  He leaned down to kiss her and she seemed somewhat soothed, a soft smile returning to her face. He would have to guard his words around her. She took everything, every frown, every sharp word, every grimace as her personal fault. It had been nearly six months since they’d married, six months since he’d snapped bring her inside and turned her his back on her, nuisance that he’d found her. He would have hoped by now she wouldn’t feel so unworthy, so unwanted. He knew it was his fault she’d felt that at the start. Surely, she didn’t believe he didn’t want her now. He wanted her like he wanted nothing else on earth.

  But the guilt he lived with...

  He hadn’t punished her for any infraction, real or imagined, since her illicit foray into the lake, so the memory of that encounter was heavy on their minds, although neither voiced it. He’d felt too guilty to punish her for anything since then, not that she’d committed any crimes of great import. She’d been so obedient since she’d felt the sting of the crop, she was like an angel fallen to earth.

  When they arrived at the lake, he stripped nude, but Cait hesitated when she reached her sheer linen underslip. She looked up at him.

  “Take it off, you impossible girl. I let it be known to the men that this lake is off limits until late afternoon.”

  She smiled the small, silly smile that killed him and pulled the filmy garment over her head. Oh, how she looked standing there stark naked and still in the brilliant sun. The pale skin, the perfect breasts, the lovely flared hips that Henna insisted could bear children... The lithe thighs, the graceful way she tiptoed across the rocky shore to the water. And that smile.

  He lifted her playfully and tossed her out into the middle of the lake, only because otherwise he’d have started rutting her right there on the shore. She shrieked, laughing, and ducked at once under the surface, every bit as comfortable in the water as a fish. They swam and played for some time before he decided he needed to have her in his arms.

  He swam to her, taking her around the waist, turning her to face him as they floated in the water, bathed by the blazing sun. It felt incredibly comfortable, and intimate and romantic, all of those things. It seemed in that moment he might have told her everything, every one of his transgressions, and she would have understood in her heart why he deceived her, that he only did it for her own good. In the bright unforgiving sunlight he could have confessed, and she would have smiled that smile and forgiven him. But he stayed silent because he just didn’t know how to form the words.

  He let things rest as they were, holding her in the water, watching her bob in the circle of his arms. Her knees braced against his thighs. She shifted just a little and wrapped her legs around his waist. Silly innocent girl. One thrust and he’d be deep inside her, inside that place he denied himself until it drove him mad. He took her waist in his hands, holding her away from his turgid member.

  “Even in the daytime?” she teased.

  “Always,” he sighed, smiling at her. In the water, holding her this way, they were for once face to face. For once he wasn’t staring down at her from above as she stood, or knelt, before him. She was so close, so close.

  “Perhaps we should get out, lie down for a while on the shore,” she suggested. “Look up at the sky. Dry off a bit before you have to go.”

  I’m not going anywhere. Yes, they would look at the sky together for a while. Perhaps if he stared at the endless blue sky long enough, the future between them would become clear.

  They lay on the spongy, warm grass and she put her head on his shoulder, wrapped her leg around his waist. He held her but didn’t molest her, wanting to shield her from any accidental eyes. She dozed that way a while, or seemed to, then rose and picked up a nearby stick. He watched her start to draw in the sandy earth. She was so un-self-conscious in her nakedness. He was charmed by the careful way she drew in the sand, the concentration on her face as she bit her lip.

  “What are you drawing?” he asked finally, curiosity getting the better of him. He sat up and looked incredulously at the sand.

  She smiled at him. She’d drawn a rather involved caricature of her and him and underneath, their names, and a heart, and the eternal lover’s question, Will you love me always?

  The writing was sure, bold, smartly written, even with a stick in the sand. His smile faded.

  “Why did you never tell me you could write?”

  Her face clouded and she dropped the stick. “I don’t know.”

  “You can read too?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “Is that bad?”

  “No. But it’s unusual,” he murmured uneasily after a moment. “Who taught you?”

  “My nurse.”

  “Your nurse. What kind of nurse did you have, to teach you reading and writing? What else did she teach you, Cait? What else can you do?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing. I don’t know. I only know my letters and a few familiar words. I never read a book. We didn’t have any. Are you angry with me?”

  Duncan tried to hide the anxiety he was feeling. Henna’s frantic words resonated in his mind. Raised in seclusion? Hidden away in a cottage in the woods? Then sent to marry an earl at the edge of Scotland? You should guard her better!

  It was pointless to question her. He knew she knew nothing of her parents save her unhappy audience with the king. It would only upset her if he brooded upon it, but why on earth would a bastard daughter be taught to read? Why would she be kept so carefully in seclusion? And should he really be worried if she was safe?

  “I would have told you. I didn’t think it was important,” she said, scattering the sand with her foot. Her question, Will you love me always, wiped forever from the face of the earth.

  I will. I’ll love you forever, Cait. I just wish I knew who you were.

  She withdrew then into her own thoughts, staring off into the distance. Soon after, with a heavy sigh, Duncan suggested they’d better dress and return to the
keep.

  Chapter Ten

  That night, Cait was shaky in her submission. Duncan knew it was his fault, that he’d been confusing her by demanding wildly varying levels of obedience.

  Duncan watched as she dawdled at undressing. Then, as he’d suspected, she chose not to drop to her knees when he indicated she should. Outside the air was heavy and charged. The beautiful blue skies of the day were giving way to gathering storms. Thunder rumbled in the distance as he considered what to do. “Are you ill?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “No.”

  “You wish to sleep in your own room tonight?”

  She bit her lip. “Yes, perhaps.” She peered up at him to gauge his reaction to her softly spoken words.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Wives are supposed to provide comfort to their husbands. They are supposed to please them, Caitlyn.”

  “I know.”

  “You are supposed to undress in my room and present yourself to me on your knees.”

  “I know,” she whispered again, her eyes shining with tears. Her hands came up to cover her body. “Tonight, I don’t want to.”

  “Very well.” Duncan sighed after a long moment. “If that is your choice, it carries consequences. I’ll punish you, and then you are free to sleep in your room for one night to consider whether or not to make this choice again.”

  Her lips trembled and she gave him a look that pained him. Confused, vulnerable, scared. “Do you love me?” she asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  “But only if I do as you say. Only if I follow your commands.”

  “No.” He sat heavily on the edge of the bed. “I love you always, Cait. But I punish you when you don’t follow my commands. There’s a reason for that, which I’ve explained to you on many occasions. My rules are there to keep you safe.”

  “How does it keep me safe to kneel and take you in my mouth?”

  His face grew hard. “It does. Believe me, it does.”

  Silent tears spilled over onto her cheeks. Duncan wished she would just tantrum and scream.

  “I thought you enjoyed the things we did together in this room. I had no idea they made you so unhappy.”