An Eager Widow [Highland Menage 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

  Duff understood what the laird meant. Gillis and Angus had a feisty wife. They said Fiona needed reminders they were in charge, so she challenged them to make sure they could keep her safe. For if they could control her she knew they were strong enough to protect her from enemies.

  Duff liked the thought of a woman coming to him for comfort, leaning on his strength. He also liked the idea of a smart, sassy woman, and what a man could enjoy doing to curb that sass. Gillis said when a woman sassed her husband she often wanted to be put in her place, which to them meant a spanking. A man could also use his tongue and fingers, bringing her close to her peak, then backing off, over and over, as punishment. Gillis said they tortured Fiona with pleasure until she begged for release, something he said a strong-minded woman hated to do.

  Duff’s cock, which had been stirring at the thought of a wife, hardened. Luckily he had enough in his sporran to hold it down, so the laird wouldn’t notice. Sweet, meek women were not for MacDougals. They’d grown up hard, with little food or heat. Any woman expecting luxuries, or even what many considered basic necessities, would be disappointed.

  “What, exactly, do ye wish us to do, Laird MacKenzie?”

  He looked at Duff from under bushy gray brows. “If the lass accepts ye, I wish ye to give her pleasure. She’s been up there for a while, alone. ‘Tis been years since she was widowed and hasna looked on any man with favor. If she agrees, bed her well. Let her see what she’s been missin' by refusin' to marry. If ye think ye can stand to marry her, and that Malcolm will as well, handfast with her. Her mother, God rest her soul, had many healthy bairns. Do what ye must to get her with child as she’s been hankerin’ after one for years now. Ye have until the full moon after this. I will meet ye here after sunrise that day.”

  Duff crossed his arms, surveying the old man. “This woman means something to ye. She’s more than just another widow in yer clan.”

  The laird investigated a scratch on the back of his hand.

  “I was called to her mother’s death bed. She begged me to find her daughter another husband to care for her.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve tried, but all here ken her ways. She refuses those few who would have her. I am thinking she will accept a stranger who kens naught of her.”

  “Does she ken ye wish to marry her off?”

  “Aye, but thinks I’ve given up. She wishes for bairns and needs a husband for that, yet refuses to marry a MacKenzie. So, as ye are a stranger…” He barked a laugh. “I’ll warn ye that she can be bold. Ye may find her doin’ the seducin' rather than yerself.”

  Duff would not object to a wife who was eager for a tumble. Fiona was wild, and Angus and Gillis couldn’t keep their hands off her. They looked at one another in a way that heated the room. Angus said ‘twas love. They’d all scoffed, having never felt such a thing. Angus had given them a superior look. He’d said if they were lucky they would find a woman to love. That a wife’s love meant a hearth and home, from which came life. That without love you had just a fire and a roof over your head. The rest of them had replied they’d take that, and a beddable woman, without a question.

  Of course they’d pounded on him after, taking out their frustration at having nothing but dreams. Now that his dreams might become reality Duff would think more on Angus’s words.

  “What of my laird Somerled?” he demanded. “We havena asked for his blessing to marry.”

  The sharp eyes of a predator hit Duff straight on. “Do ye think he would say nay for the two of ye to find a good home with a strong wife to give ye healthy bairns?”

  It was Duff’s turn to sigh heavily. Somerled would be pleased if they married a widow with a croft and land, though it be far from MacDougal land. Angus and Gillis were settling at Andrath Tower on Loch Lochy to guard the Fraser and Cameron borders. Cormac and James had been hired to escort their new wife to Caithness. If he and Malcolm married this widow there’d be only ten eager bachelors left at Duncladach for Somerled to worry about.

  “Aye,” he agreed. “My laird would be pleased.”

  “Handfast with the lass, give her a babe, and report to me. I’ll have another task for ye then. Ye’ll have a wee bit of a journey to follow.”

  Duff shuffled his feet. Though he’d not met her the thought of leaving his wife alone in a sheiling, especially if she carried his babe, made him cringe.

  “I dinna like the lass being left alone when I ride out.”

  “Dinna fash. I will send for her. She will visit Castle Leod and meet yer twin. I have a priest. When ye return there’ll be a proper wedding.”

  Duff still felt something was off about the whole thing, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Perhaps by the time he met the widow and talked with her it would make more sense.

  MacKenzie drew himself up, changing from cagey old goat to an imposing ruler of all he surveyed.

  “Will ye give me yer oath that ye will treat the lass well, handfast with her if she agrees, and take her as yer wife, accepting all her bairns as yer own?”

  He hadn’t thought to ask if she already had little ones, or if her first husband had been a Campbell or Bruce, both mortal enemies. It didn’t matter. All children were innocent and deserved care and affection. His father might have sired eight bastards but he’d claimed them and taken them in. He hadn’t done much more than that, for any of them. They’d raised themselves, thanks to Somerled and the older brothers. After that life, Duff would do all he could to improve their lives. He stood tall to make his first major decision.

  “Laird MacKenzie, if this woman wishes I will handfast with her. I will take her, and any bairns she may have, as my own. I will protect and provide for her with my life, treating her with respect and guiding her as a man does his wife. And I will encourage her to accept Malcolm, when they meet.”

  MacDougal held out his arm. They clasped, making the oath complete. A sense of purpose settled around him, one he’d not felt before. He’d been wild, letting Malcolm lead the way. He was now on his own and would prove his worth as a man and a husband. And, God willing, a far better father than any of them had known.

  MacKenzie swung onto his sleek horse. Duff mounted his own, one in far worse shape. Yet he sat tall in the battered saddle.

  “Yer father had sixteen sons. I expect ye to give her one afore I see ye again,” ordered the laird.

  Duff gave a respectful nod before he grinned. “‘Tis an order I shall work hard to obey.”

  MacKenzie’s laugh faded as Duff followed the trail pointed out to him. He was to take a circuitous route, arriving from the west so the widow wouldn’t think he’d been sent from Castle Leod. He walked his horse, thinking on the laird’s carefully spoken words. He’d used very short sentences, ones that did not necessarily add together.

  She will visit Castle Leod and meet yer twin. I have a priest. When ye return there’ll be a proper wedding.

  Which of them would the priest be marrying the lass to?

  Malcolm was the older brother and should be the one saying vows. Gillis had handfasted with Fiona before Angus had married her at the insistence of Laird Cameron. But Fiona had met both men, and shared herself with them, before the wedding. Duff doubted MacKenzie would tell Malcolm what he was doing. Did the old man know that MacDougal twins picked up pain, fear, and lust in the other?

  Malcolm would know Duff was bedding a lass, should it happen. Knowing it, but not why or who, would drive his stodgy brother wild. His smile at Malcolm's discomfort didn’t last. He’d not been told the full story. The wily old fox would play his games, laying false trails and making riddles. He may not lie but Duff was sure the laird had skipped a few truths. Duff may have to do the same with his future bride. Doing so bothered him, but it was for a good cause. They would each get what they wished for.

  If, that is, she really did want a husband, and him.

  He rode on. It was strange not to hear a second horse’s plodding gait or someone else shifting in their saddle. He had no one to point out a patch of berries or to wa
tch his back. Those who did not have a twin or bonded brother did not know what they missed.

  His bride, from what MacKenzie said, had been alone for years. There was more to why she would not marry a MacKenzie than a sharp tongue. Many men did not wish for a wife tall enough to look them in the eye, especially if she did it thinking she was equal. But then, many men enjoyed knocking their woman down, both with words and fists. Had she fought back?

  The thought of wrestling with her, both of them enjoying him overpowering her, made him shift on his saddle. It didn’t ease his ache. A slow grin tilted up the corners of his lips. Would Malcolm know when Duff wrapped his arms around their future bride and kissed her? Or would he only realize it when Duff used his tongue and fingers on her to make her scream her orgasm? What would he feel when Duff slid into her heat, felt her clench around him, and roared his release?

  Duff cursed. He stopped his horse and quickly dismounted. A hard cock and a hard saddle did not go well together. He walked on, leading the horse.

  He would make his woman scream her release at least twice with his fingers and mouth to get acquainted. When he did enter her he’d pull out before he came, as always. Only when she agreed to handfast with him would he finally release his seed in a woman’s heat.

  If, that is, she let him get near enough to speak.

  Chapter Two

  He came riding out of the woods from the west, a large, dark-haired man leading a spindly horse. Kiera MacKenzie sculled in place, only her head above the water. No one came here other than Murdock, her father’s elderly guardsman. Every fortnight he brought oatmeal, salt, and a few more fleeces for her to spin. He was silent and gruff, refusing even to enter her sheiling, leaving it all by the door and picking up her spun wool. He’d been by the other day, leaving a double batch to last her, so she’d taken today’s solitude for granted.

  She was high in the hills west of Castle Leod, a place no one could accidentally pass. Whoever the man was, he would not be a danger. Laird MacKenzie’s men watched for strangers and would not let anyone threaten her. Perhaps he was distant kin, someone who knew nothing of her? His horse plodded along, ever closer, as if he had nowhere in particular to go and all the time to get there.

  “Mayhaps he carries a present from Father for my birthday,” she muttered, then shook her head in disgust. Her father cared only for his new wife and putting a babe in her belly. Silean had taken over Kiera’s duties and place at her father’s side. It wouldn’t have been so humiliating if her stepmother was closer to her father’s age, rather than her own.

  Now that her father had no use for her the only thing she wanted, and it was a desperate need, was to live on her dower lands without having to put up with a husband. However, Laird MacKenzie had made it clear he would not allow her to set foot on the Black Isle without a strong warrior at her side and in her bed.

  Not to protect her, just the land she held by right of birth.

  Once she had a son or two she would no longer be needed by Clan MacKenzie. Those sons would guard the land with their father. If she was lucky they might allow her to do good deeds. Considering the men she’d met in her one-and-twenty years the chance of her doing anything that might require an intelligent decision was slim.

  “Fools they are, thinking a cock and ballocks hanging atween your legs means you can think.“

  Kiera often spoke to herself, even when Chester wasn’t there to reply. The terrier was always happy to listen. He was off chasing rabbits, or he’d have greeted the man with joyous barks. Chester was far too friendly to be a watchdog. He was also afraid of dark holes so was no good as a hunter. Her brother, Colin, suggested she call the pup after her deceased husband as Bertie had been a few sheaves short of a thatched roof. He meant well, but his abilities didn’t come close to his aspirations. He’d died six weeks after they’d eloped. Chester had shared her life far longer. The two males had a few traits in common. Both were noisy, loving to hear themselves talk or bark, and they snored. They also provided a warm body to snuggle against and someone to talk to.

  Talk to, not with.

  Many thought her mad for refusing to marry, but men cared nothing for what she thought or wished for, only what she brought to the marriage as it would then become their property, as would her body. That was why she’d eloped with daft Bertie, hoping he’d be happy hunting and fishing while she ran Kinrowan Tower. But Bertie had been weak as well as a fool. He’d refused to leave his mother. Kiera hadn’t realized how deep the maternal claws had gripped him until too late.

  If she ever did marry, she wanted a husband who cared for her heart and brain, not just her land. Her husband would become Laird Kinrowan when the priest heard their vows. She desperately wished for a man who would ask her opinions on decisions that he would then carry out.

  As all MacKenzies knew about her dowry she could not trust them. Too many smiled and spoke fine words, yet they wished to lock her away and do as they chose once she was wed and bedded. If she ever married again it would be to a stranger who knew nothing about her. Someone like the handsome man now approaching?

  Kiera stopped sculling, startled at the thought. She sank, catching herself before inhaling water.

  The stranger still hadn’t looked up. The sun was high, making it easy to see him clearly. His horse, saddle, and clothing looked old and well used, and not just from his journey. He looked tired. The thought reminded her she’d been swimming too long. She was chilled and wanted out.

  The horse and rider changed direction, heading for the water. He would see her and know she was naked. So be it. She was no meek virgin, willing to drown rather than show her body. The horse lifted its head, scenting water. A touch of dread made her shiver beyond the chill of the water. Would the stranger try to take advantage of her?

  Or would she take advantage of the stranger?

  His height was a big attraction. She felt like a giant around every woman and many of the men. Her sisters, all older, were petite like their mother. They liked sitting inside wearing a pretty gown, doing little but ply their needles and gossip. Kiera wanted to run and learn and do things. She’d been born with her father’s brain and sturdy body but the same sex as her mother. It was not a good combination. She’d kept up with her four older brothers, trying to prove she was as worthy, until she developed breasts and hips. She’d taken one too many dares from them, and her furious mother had put her foot down. She’d been hauled indoors to learn to be a lady.

  She’d done so for years, believing her mother’s tales of love with her father. She’d found out how men lied at fifteen. Six years later she was alone and unwanted. That was fine with her. Or had been until now.

  The stranger still hadn’t glanced her way, though he had to know she was there. Had he pegged her as no threat so was ignoring her? Or did he think he could get close without frightening her? She was not frightened. The opposite, in fact. This close she could make out his excellent physique, especially as he wore no shirt under his ragged plaid. Dark whorls highlighted his broad chest. A rare tingling warmed the flesh between her legs. Four years without the joys of the bedchamber had left her knowing what she was missing. Bertie had been enthusiastic though too quick to finish. Was this man more patient?

  She opened her mouth to breathe as the sight of him made her heart beat faster. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the touch of a man who made her heart speed up? If he was clean and reasonably presentable she’d kiss him. If he responded well she might finally get some joy.

  He loosened his horse’s cinch, kicked off his boots, and led his horse knee-deep for a drink. When the beast finished he took it onto the grass and removed the saddle. The horse rolled, scratching his back. The stranger grinned. He had all his teeth, and his lips were full. What would they feel like against hers?

  She held back a groan. Her options were quickly dwindling from few to none. He hobbled his horse so it could graze. Satisfied, his hands went to his waist. Surely he wasn’t unbuckling his belt... His plaid fell in a heap, rev
ealing strong thighs, a broad back, and a well-rounded arse. He straightened and faced the water.

  Good Lord, the man was erect! And what a man. What a cock! Long and thick, it jutted from a black nest. He was bigger than Bertie, in both length and girth. Did he know how to use it? Water filled her open mouth, making her choke. She sculled in place, trying to keep from going under. He had to have heard her coughing and choking. Her nipples, already tight due to the cold water, crinkled even more.

  She finally cleared her throat and looked toward shore. He strode into the water keeping his eyes on the water in front of him, frowning. She was tired, but to get out she’d have to get past him. Then he dove in, aiming right for her. He certainly swam well. He came up about twenty feet away, grinning at her as if very pleased with himself.

  “Getting a wee bit cold and tired, lassie?” Brilliant blue eyes contrasted with his dark hair. His smile went all the way to crinkle the corners of his eyes.

  She was certainly tired but no longer cold. Something about that deep voice made her tingle, something she’d felt when she first saw Bertie but far stronger. Her attraction to her husband had died long before he did when she realized his enthusiasm for bedsport did not translate into ability. Bertie had no control, nor did he care to. He came quickly and then fell asleep, leaving her frustrated.

  She felt the same now. Frustration brought out the worst in her. As she cared not what the stranger thought of her, she had no reason to hold back.

  “Your horse is watered and has had sufficient grazing. Be on your way,” she ordered.

  He smirked at her, eyes crinkling with laughter. “I think not. I like the view.”

  He swam past her, going wide, allowing her to head for land. She swam forward, glancing over her shoulder. He followed, keeping pace. Was the bloody man herding her?

  “Then have your swim and be gone!”

  “Why leave when there’s a beautiful, naked lass in front of me?”