by Reece Butler
Highland Menage 9
Bedding the Enemy
Wishing to end all clan feuds, King James weds widowed Margaret Campbell by proxy to Somerled MacDougal, laird of the Campbell's ancient enemy. With her younger brother's life at stake if Somerled discovers he married a Campbell, she is introduced as Margaret Stewart.
Somerled and his twin, Niall, change her name to Meg and eagerly accept the tiny blonde gift. Her first marriage, to an elderly, unkind man, helps Meg eagerly accept the accomplished bedding techniques shown by Somerled and Niall.
All goes well until goods arrive from her dead husband's castle, which once belonged to the MacDougals. Ancient family portraits means she must tell Somerled the name of her dead husband and risk her brother's life, and her love.
Will Somerled lock her up, to be used only to bear his heirs, or will he accept she had no choice in that marriage, as well as her present one.
Genre: Historical, Ménage a Trois/Quatre
Length: 47,014 words
BEDDING THE ENEMY
Highland Menage 9
Reece Butler
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
BEDDING THE ENEMY
Copyright © 2015 by Reece Butler
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-613-0
First E-book Publication: August 2015
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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DEDICATION
Bedding the Enemy is my twenty-fifth book published. I dedicate it to Amanda Hilton, CEO of Siren-BookStrand, Inc., for her encouragement, dedication, insight, and advice.
I submitted Cowboy Sandwich to Siren on January 31st, 2009. Three months later I was a published author.
Six years later I am writing and researching erotic romance full time, and loving it. I doubt this would be true without Amanda.
And now I’d best get back to the twenty-sixth…
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
About the Author
BEDDING THE ENEMY
Highland Menage 9
REECE BUTLER
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
“When will you tell me the name of my husband?” demanded Lady Margaret Campbell. “I am cold, wet, hungry, and sore from riding for days. I wish to ken the name of the man I must take to my bed!” She wiped the rain dripping from her nose for the hundredth time. “If we ever get there.”
“’Twas you who insisted on pushing on in this rain, my lady,” answered Herald Cam blandly.
As her hood covered her from his view she made a face. Her father would have struck her for it. Her first husband, now thankfully dead, would have made her pay in a dozen invisible, humiliating ways. As for her new husband, Herald Cam insisted he would be an improvement on both. As Cam was the king’s man she should be able to believe him. Trust came hard, and for good reason.
“You agreed you didna wish to spend the day in an empty shepherd’s hut,” she replied. “How much longer?”
“We are on their land now and should arrive afore the sun sets.”
“How will we ken it, when ’tis already so dark?” she replied, but in a mutter so low he’d not hear.
The cold damp of the rain was nothing compared to the dread that settled in her heart. She’d have to bed a stranger tonight, no matter what. When King James signed the proxy marriage that joined her to this man, ownership of her body had transferred from her father, the devil she knew all too well, to someone she knew nothing about. Even his name had been kept secret.
Herald Cam said he’d left her groom a note some time ago saying he’d return with a bride. Did her husband even want to marry? If so, would he be upset that she had no dowry and was a childless widow of four-and-twenty? Would he be young and virile enough to give her the bairns she craved? And was he the type to take out his anger on her physically as did her father, or would he use Edgar’s methods?
Her mare, feeling her tension, danced sideways a few steps.
“Be not afraid, Lady Margaret,” said Herald Cam. “Men in this clan dinna beat women or bairns. You willna be harmed, by any of them.”
“Edgar proved much can be done to punish me without a fist being raised,” she replied bitterly as her mare continued to fuss. “Though fists are my father’s preferred me
thod.”
Less than a day after returning to Glen Lyon as a new widow, he’d found a reason to strike her. The shock of the first blow had caused her to cry out in pain. That convinced him of her fear, so he’d not beaten her too badly, though she’d limped for days.
“So I saw. Do you ken why he raged when I said you’d been married by King James?”
“My mother said men need no reason to rage.”
Cam raised an eyebrow at that. “Real men dinna rage.”
“Then I’ve never met a real man. Apart from yourself,” she added, as he’d been calm the entire time they’d been together. “Do you ever get angry?”
“Aye, but as I am the king’s herald, I canna show it. Your father had a reason to rage this time, at least in his mind. He’d lost a fair bit gambling with a man even older and more vile than Edgar Campbell. The payment, to be made in a sennight, was to be either his best stallion and two mares, or…” Cam paused, sliding his gaze over.
“Or me,” she whispered. Her empty stomach rebelled, but there was nothing in it. Herald Cam had rescued her with this marriage. “I wonder that he thought I was worth a stallion and two mares.”
“The man he betted against thought it. So when I told your father King James had already signed your marriage contract and you would be riding away with me, he wasna pleased.”
“Then ’tis good we left quickly.”
She bit her lip to keep from saying more. If they’d stayed the night her father may have murdered the herald in his bed. He would have beaten her in painful ways that would not show above her gown.
“Lady Margaret, I am a herald of the king,” said Cam quietly. “I ken all about you, the Campbells of Glen Lyon, and the husband you recently buried. You managed his estate for years while he lay in bed unable to speak, and you did it far better than he ever did. I say that in praise for you.”
His frank words surprised her. All at Duntrune had wished to keep secret that their laird had been struck with apoplexy. While he could speak, it came out as gibberish, which she translated as she chose. Unlike Edgar, Margaret shared the bounty with the clan so none wished the Earl of Argyll, or Edgar’s heir, to know. She’d risen each morning with a smile for five years before the dratted man had died. As she’d produced no heir she was returned to her father.
“King James wished to reward this laird with a wife. Your ability at Duntrune is partly why I suggested you to the king. Your new husband is demanding and unyielding, as well as grim and responsible. He has said he desires a well-behaved, meek wife, one without a saucy mouth.”
“Then why did you choose me?” she demanded.
Cam rode on as if she hadn’t spoken. A closer look showed a smirk playing around his lips. During the last few days and nights she’d learned the herald enjoyed putting a personal touch on the king’s business. He was a kind man, though could be ruthless if provoked. He also played a deep game, doing more than following a simple order.
“If you are correct that this husband of mine willna harm me, then I will be as saucy as I choose,” she said.
“Good. A meek wife wouldna be good for him, or his clan.” He tipped his head at her. “You will suit your laird husband, though it may take him some time to believe it.”
“Are you saying I must train him?”
“If ’tis possible to train a wolf, then aye.”
A cold shiver rippled down her spine. “A wolf?” She shook her head. “I dinna wish to marry such a ferocious creature.”
“I am not speaking of a starving beast, Lady Margaret, but of the proud male who rules the pack. Your husband cares for his clan, as you did those at Duntrune. He has ruled over them with the strength and determination necessary for their survival. They are hard men, warriors all, but they dinna harm for sport. Your new husband is stronger, bigger, and will push himself harder than any of his clan. His father was selfish, giving nothing but promises that turned out to be lies, so he is the opposite. Everything he does is to help his clan survive. You are an unusual woman, and have done unusual things. If he is smart he will be pleased, as your skills will help his people.”
She hadn’t thought of a clan like a wolf pack, but in many ways it was true. The leader of a pack ruled with his teeth and claws while a laird used other methods, but both demanded instant obedience and rewarded those who provided for others. Such a laird, unlike most of the men she’d known, might see her as more than just a servant, bedmate, and supplier of heirs.
“He is intelligent but uneducated,” continued Cam. “His past has made him demanding, harsh, and unyielding. Yours has taught you how to survive, even prosper, under such men. This man willna harm you, nor will he insist you bow your head to him.” He paused. “At least in private. That you are riding in this rain shows you have the determination to do what is necessary. You will need it to help him see his way is not the only one. He will change, in time.”
“Does he wish to change?”
“Nay, but he needs to. He will roar, but he will also listen.”
“A man listen to a woman?” She laughed bitterly. “You have found me a miracle husband?”
“Am I not listening to you, Lady Margaret?”
She took the rebuke as just. “Aye, and ’tis a wondrous thing to be able to speak my mind without expecting a blow. Thank you for showing me ’tis possible.”
“Your husband may take a while to agree, but he needs a strong woman at his side.”
“His name, Herald Cam?” she demanded.
“The clan you are marrying into are staunch warriors for the king. You are their reward, as they are yours. Dinna judge until you ken them. They have much honor but have had little more, for generations. Mayhaps you’ll ken the clan when I speak of them.”
“You wish me to guess, as in a riddle?”
“Humor me, Lady Margaret.”
She gestured for him to continue. She had no choice.
“You have a number of good-sisters. The first is Lady Fiona Menzies Fraser, niece to Lord Lovat and Lady Janet. She is at Andrath Tower on Loch Lochy with Angus and Gillis. They have wee Morag, the first lassie to be born to the clan in over a hundred years.
“I ken the Frasers. They are well respected.”
“Lady Alana Sinclair, daughter of the Earl of Caithness, is now Lady of Keiss Castle with Laird Cormac and James. She recently gave them a son, Dougal Sinclair. Lady Kiera MacKenzie, daughter of the Lord of Kintail and Chief of all MacKenzies, is now Lady of Kinrowan with Laird Malcolm and Duff. She just had twins Dougal and Elizabeth MacKenzie. And Lady Isabel Graham is now Lady of Calltuin with Sir Tearlach and Rory. Can you tell me the name of your laird husband?”
Margaret held tight to the saddle as the knowledge sunk in. She’d heard of them all. Her father and brothers had soundly cursed the powerful kin that marriage had brought their ancient enemy, the MacDougals. The clan had crouched behind a wall of rock and stone sixty feet high since the twelfth century. They’d once ruled many castles over hundreds of square miles, now mostly claimed by Clan Campbell. She’d grown up hearing how the MacDougals hated the Campbells and would kill them on sight, raping the women first, of course.
She was barely five feet tall with thick blonde hair to her arse. The MacDougals, it was said, were dark-haired with devil-blue eyes. The laird and his twin were impossibly tall at six inches past six feet and as well muscled as stallions in their prime. The rest of the brothers, fourteen of them, were the same, though slightly shorter.
Over the past few hundred years her clan had done all it could to wipe out the MacDougals. What would they do to her in retaliation? She took a moment to calm herself. She’d learned quickly that bullies sensed fear and would attack all the harder if they scented it.
“My husband is Laird Somerled MacDougal.”
“Well done, my lady!” Herald Cam bowed to her from his saddle.
“Am I the sacrificial lamb, sent by the king to end the ancient feud between the Campbells and MacDougals?”
“Lamb?�
�� Herald Cam chuckled, shaking his head. “If anything, you are a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”
He hadn’t denied it was her body, and the children she must produce, that would end the feud. “You called my—” she choked on the word “—my husband a wolf.”
“Aye, Somerled is leader of his pack in that he is laird of his raggle-tag clan.” Cam gave her a shrewd look. “A wolf pack also has a lead female, the mate of the leader. That would be you, Lady Margaret. Though there is one difference. Somerled and his twin, Niall, share everything, and intend to continue doing so.” He paused. “Again, that would be you.”
She inhaled a gasp. She’d overheard her brothers speaking of the MacDougals sharing a wife and thought they jested. The rumors were true! Now that she thought on it, when Cam spoke of her good-sisters he’d said one lady for each set of brothers. Her heart skipped a beat. She turned to the herald, chest tight.
“Each pair shares a wife?”
“Aye,” he calmly replied. “All those great ladies happily share their bed with two husbands. But I promise that Somerled willna force you to share with Niall, though they will hope you choose to do so one day. King James married you to Somerled alone.”
“I’m to do my wifely duty with—”
“Duty?” Herald Cam chuckled. “MacDougals ensure their wives are well pleasured afore they take their own.”
She blinked at him. “Women can feel pleasure from a man’s touch?”
“Aye, if there is a spark, and the man wishes to please her. MacDougals are known for ensuring their wives enjoy their marriage bed. From what I have heard of you, and seen on our journey, you have the determination and strength of character to do what your king wishes. The bedding may make up for some of Somerled’s bluster.”
