The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle)

by Ashley York

  “I kept...” Water came out of her nose and mouth. “...calling you and…” She coughed again. “You didn’t come…”

  “Wheesht, little one….shhh.” He wiped the spittle from her mouth. “Ye are fine, lass.”

  He stroked her wet hair, rubbing her back with soothing motions. She was calming down, getting control of her crying and breathing more regularly. Her back was smooth under his hand.

  She faced him. “I was afraid I would die!” Her warm brown eyes were terrified.

  “Nae, lass.” Seumas heard the conviction in his own voice. “Ye will not die. Not today.”

  His rubbing shifted to massaging with long, strong strokes. Her breast brushed against his chest with each caress. He closed his eyes. Her scent filled his lungs. She leaned closer, her firm bottom shifting on his lap. Her breath quickened, and he opened his eyes. The fear had left her face, replaced by longing.

  She glanced down. He followed her gaze. The soaked chemise hid nothing. It hugged her tantalizing breasts, stretched across her hips, and dipped between her thighs. Her nipples strained against the wet fabric, begging for his touch. He looked long and hard.

  “Ye are so lovely.” He dipped his head and rubbed his lips along her cheek.

  Her skin was cool. He wanted to press his palm to her breast, kneading it until she warmed from the inside out. Wanted to put his mouth around her nipple and heat it with his breath, sucking it through the rough material. She shifted again on his lap. Her round bottom pressed against him where the proof of his desire should have been evident. There was nothing.

  As if he’d had cold water splashed in the face, Seumas immediately came to his senses. He took her hand and rubbed it along the ledge.

  “Hold it here.” She grasped the edge of the rock, and he got out of the water.

  Distance was necessary to get his frustration in check. He retreated to the other side of the fire. The farther the better. He wanted her, and he had not desired a woman in a long time. It did not matter. Nothing could come of it. The sooner he got away from her, for good, the better for his peace of mind.

  The air was cold after the warmth of the water…and her body. And what a luscious body it was. The moan caught in his throat. He turned away from the alluring sight to face the fire.

  *****

  Iseabail sat in the warm water, holding the side, and a chill ran down her body. He stood rigidly by the fire with his back to her. She touched her cheek, where she could still feel his lips on her, and closed her eyes. She had wanted him to kiss her, to keep rubbing her back, to hold her against him.

  He donned his tunic. She admired his body and the strength it held. Strength like that could protect her from so much. Nobody would be able to touch her without her consent if she had him defending her. She ducked down under the water, only realizing her mistake too late.

  “Ohhh!” She lost her grip and slipped further into the water.

  He whipped around at her cry and reached her before she got away from the side of the pool. He wrapped his hand around her upper arm and hauled her out.

  “Methinks ye have had enough.”

  She accepted the blanket he offered and sat shivering. He dropped her gown in her lap, forcing her to look up at him. She searched his face. There was no desire nor did he run his gaze over her body this time. He merely looked back at her.

  “Ye should dress. I’ll get food.” He left.

  Confused and disappointed, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the knee of her uninjured leg, reliving the moment his lips had touched her cheek.

  Her most treasured dream had always been of marrying a handsome man to share gentle caresses and quiet whispers with. She had wondered about the feel of a man’s lips on hers and had even woken from dreams that left her feeling soft and vulnerable. Lack of understanding did nothing to diminish the longing...until Uncle Henry. She had thought that part of her was dead after what she had been subjected to. Her uncle had kept her a virgin to make the most profitable marriage, but he had found other ways for her to please him. He had made it so no one else would want her. How quickly her innocent dream had come back to life with one look from Seumas’s blue eyes.

  “What happened in here?” Calum caressed the ear of a brown rabbit as he walked toward her. “Are you hurt?”

  Iseabail tipped her head to hide the tears. “I am fine. Merely shortsighted.”

  “He is mad.”

  She jerked her head back. “Mad?”

  “Did you say something to make him mad?”

  “I do not believe so. Mayhap he would prefer to be done saving us.”

  “That could very well be.”

  She had meant it sarcastically, but Calum’s face was serious. They were awfully needy. She bit at the inside of her lip. What could she do?

  Calum lay down along the spring, the rabbit on his chest, and trailed his fingers in the water.

  “Take care you do not fall in.”

  He turned toward her, his eyes as big as the moon. “Is that what you did? You fell in?”

  She wanted to say no. “I suppose. He may see it that way.”

  Calum sat and crossed his legs with his head tipped to one side, as if seeking understanding. He nibbled at his lip, confused.

  She continued. “I slipped off the slimy rock. It was not my fault.”

  “Aye. I am sure it was not.” Calum stood and headed toward the front entrance. “You should get dressed. He has some food he is willing to share.”

  “Wait.” Iseabail pulled the gown over her head, grabbed her cloak, and hobbled toward Calum. “How mad is he?”

  Calum thought about the answer then yawned. “I would say we are sleeping alone tonight.”

  He walked back through the passage. Iseabail stared after him, dumbfounded. What was he talking about? When had they not slept alone?

  She hopped on one leg to chase after him and was quickly assaulted by the smell of warm porridge. Her stomach responded with a loud growl and she fairly drooled.

  “That smells heavenly.” She settled herself on her cloak, pushing the will to one side.

  “It is the best we can do since young Calum here thinks our supper is his new pet.” Seumas did sound grumpy. He plopped the meal onto plates and dropped bannocks beside each. “I do not know how long we can go without any meat, but my guess is we may not make it till morning.”

  Calum raised his eyebrows at Iseabail and mouthed the word “grumpy” before settling next to her with his plate.

  Seumas leaned against the far wall and shoved his bannock into his mouth.

  The food was delicious and Iseabail had seconds. Her leg felt much better. She sighed and smiled. “Thank you for feeding us, Seumas.”

  He nodded but his dark eyes pierced her with accusations. He spoke little as he got up to poke the fire. The way he stabbed at the burning embers, she started to believe they had done something to personally affront him.

  “Is there a problem?” she asked.

  He grunted in answer. “Calum, be a good lad and take care of the cleaning up, will ye?”

  With his rabbit tucked securely inside his tunic, the boy did as he was asked.

  Seumas waited until he had left them alone before speaking. “I am interested to know why ye and yer brother have been living in our woods.”

  She tamped down her fear. “I told you we were hiding.”

  “Aye, but ye failed to mention from whom.”

  “It did not seem wise to broach the subject with you. Suffice to say we needed to hide.”

  His lopsided smile was condescending. “Aye. Ye are quite a source of wisdom, are ye not?”

  Her face heated. She had made mistakes, but she had tried her best. Tears welled, but she pushed them back. “I am wise enough. I know how to run a castle, I know how to stock supplies to last a winter, I know how to work with the villagers so that their payments are on time but they are not lacking. I know a lot.” She bit her lip to keep it from quivering. “I know what I was brou
ght up to know. The rest I have had to figure out.”

  She tried to stand by herself. She wanted to walk through that opening and never look upon his handsome face again. He stood over her with an outstretched hand she really did not want to take.

  “Do not be prideful besides.” His voice was quieter.

  She took his hand. Heat charged up her arm. She pulled back when she was standing. “I have done my best.”

  Hands on his hips, Seumas seemed to search her face. “Aye. Perhaps ye have. Lady of the Manor, were ye?”

  “I am the MacNaughton’s only daughter.”

  “And yet ye are in hiding.”

  She exhaled in exasperation. “From my uncle.”

  “And yer father?”

  “He is dead.”

  “But did yer uncle…?”

  “Oh, no, he would never kill his own brother. I do not believe so.” She pondered the possibility. Certain poisons caused a slow death like her father’s. “Surely not.” She spoke with less conviction.

  “Know him well, do ye?”

  She snorted. Too well. “I have told you why we did what we did.”

  “Aye, but would ye be telling me the truth, I wonder.”

  She would lie to him if needs be. She could not very well deny that now.

  “Ye have taken good care of the lad.”

  “Well, thank you for that.” She tried to hobble to the door, but he scooped her up into his arms instead. “Oh, please, you cannot keep doing this.”

  He squeezed her gently into silence. “I do not want yer leg to cramp or start to fester.”

  Calum stood in the entryway. “Did she take the herbs I brought for her?”

  Seumas’s heart beat against her side. She held his steady gaze. He did not look like he was going to put her down anytime soon. “What herbs, Calum?”

  “The ones I had to go into the castle for.”

  She gasped, and narrowed her eyes at Seumas in accusation. “What? You sent him back to the castle? Knowing we were in hiding?”

  Seumas raised his brow but did not answer.

  “You were dying. You had a terrible fever,” Calum piped up.

  “Aye, ye did.” Seumas’s voice was quiet.

  “You were so near to death I had to sneak back into the castle and make my way to the stable. Then Rob and I got into the kitchen and told the cook what we needed.”

  Iseabail kept her gaze on Seumas while Calum told the story. She could not believe he would put her brother at risk like that.

  “It was quite an adventure,” Calum chirped. “Then they called after me ‘thief, thief’ and chased me when I took off on Seumas’s horse.”

  Seumas smiled at Calum. “Ye did fine, lad.”

  Calum came to stand beside the man, rubbing the long ears of his pet. “Did you give her the herbs?”

  “Nae. I did not need them.” Seumas pierced Iseabail with his look. “I was able to get the fever down by other means.”

  Calum frowned and looked between them. “How?”

  “I took her to the river.”

  “Oh.” Calum nodded, satisfied with the answer. “I will go out and find some food for my rabbit, if you think it safe.”

  “Do not go far, lad. There is plenty near here that vermin can eat.”

  Iseabail shifted in his arms. “Can you put me down now?”

  He did not answer, nor did he comply. Instead, he inched his hand up to her neck and started working little circles into her skin. She fought the desire to close her eyes. It felt so good.

  “Do ye not want to know how I got yer fever down?”

  “You said you brought me to the river.”

  He held her gaze then pulled her toward him, and she knew he was going to kiss her. His lips were warm, and the lightning surged through her again. He kissed her lightly at first then more urgently. She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer.

  He straightened abruptly then placed her on her cloak. “Ye should get some sleep.”

  Seumas pushed past Calum as he was coming back in.

  “Told you he was mad,” Calum said.

  Chapter 13

  Seumas took a deep breath and held it then exhaled slowly to steady himself. He was irritated in the extreme and losing control. Stuck with not one but two people he had to protect, he saw no way out. He wanted to walk away. No, what he wanted to do was bury himself in Iseabail and pound out the pent-up frustration she had caused. Being near her made him do things he should not. Kissing her? What had he been thinking? In truth, the memory of her body as he’d cooled it in the river had pushed him over the edge. Her lips were so soft and inviting. When she had started to respond, he had longed to plunge his tongue into her mouth and crush her willing body against him.

  Derision swept through him like an ocean wave. That would have really gotten them far. He inhaled on a shaky breath. It was not her fault. She did not know of his injury. She was running scared, embroiled in her own problems. And stealing his sanity.

  He ducked into the cave. Iseabail and Calum lay beside the fire.

  “Ready for some rest, then?”

  “Aye.” Calum sat up, his rabbit in hand. “Where should I leave Rodney?”

  “Rodney?” Seumas rolled his eyes. “Ye named the rabbit? What if we have to eat him?”

  Calum’s eyes widened, and he hugged the animal to his chest. “Why would we have to eat him? You have enough food in your bags to feed the king’s army.”

  Seumas snorted loudly. “Why indeed. I am taking a soak in the spring.”

  He tried not to actually stomp away but doubted he had succeeded.

  The fire was almost out and the moisture in the air made the cave seem even colder. He pulled his tunic over his head and groaned in relief as he stretched his shoulders, working out the stiffness. He removed his boots and his britches. How he hated wearing pants—his just punishment for living among these pompous English-loving Lowlanders. Since his return from the Holy Lands, he had turned his back on all he had been brought up to be. He feared he had let down his family, his heritage and, worst of all, his God.

  Seumas slipped into the water and sighed. The temperature was just right to soothe his aches and pains. He ducked under in an attempt to gauge the depth but had to swim back up before he found the floor. Holding on to the side, he enjoyed the feel of the heated water surrounding his body. He felt for his scar which stretched in its crescent shape from thigh to groin. It pained him less but still felt vicious to his fingertip. The scars was perhaps three inches in length, and the middle section was smooth but puckered on either side. In damp weather it throbbed painfully.

  Closing his eyes, he leaned back with his elbows on the ledge and dipped further into the water. The image of Iseabail’s naked loveliness filled his mind, and her expressive eyes were full of desire for him. She would smile at him. Want him. He would turn her around, urging her against the side and sliding his hands along her silky skin, kneading her delectable bottom. Wedging his body in closer, he would spread her knees wide. She would moan, her breasts flattening against his chest, and her breath quickening as he tasted her neck. She would wrap her legs around him, tight, urging him closer. He would seek her lips and press his hips against her.

  His eyes flew open. He groaned.

  Seumas faced the edge of the pool and lowered his head to his arm. He fought to steady his breathing. This was too much. Too real. Too damned frustrating. He needed to think through what to do, which meant getting away from Iseabail as soon as possible. He could not simply leave her though. She still needed protection and she was determined to find someone to help her family.

  Seumas’s friend Mark lived two days to the east. His father had been at the royal court and still kept his own counsel. Perhaps he could help Iseabail. Seumas could get them there and be done with them. Then he would be free to return to his own lands to see if the farm remained. It had only been a short while since his father had passed. Mayhap there he could find peace.

  He
considered traveling for two days in close proximity to this woman. Hell. That was what it would be. If his mind could be reconciled once again to the reality of his broken body, it would be less torturous. He shifted uncomfortably in the water. His scar throbbed again. He reached down to massage out the tightness and when his hand grazed his manhood, he jumped. He had lost all sensation there after the injury. Seumas looked down at himself. He leaped onto the ledge and rubbed his eyes. Damn salt must have gotten in them. He could not trust his eyes. He put his hand to his injured member and jerked up at the exquisite feeling.

  Seumas stepped out of the water. The burning embers cast a soft glow upon his body but he didn’t trust what he saw. His wrapped his hand around his long-dead member.

  How can this be?

  He closed his eyes, relishing the sensations. The shaft swelled in his grip, and he groaned with the pleasure. Then it was gone. He studied his flaccid penis in his hand. Had he been wrong? No. There was no mistaking the hard flesh for anything but what it was—proof that he was not broken.

  “Damn. That felt good.” He continued to touch himself but nothing happened. Still, he grinned. “If it can happen once, it can happen again.”

  Seumas dressed hurriedly. In the outer cavern, Calum and Iseabail slept in the same position they had in front of the fire at the castle. He hunkered down behind Iseabail. She had the nicest arse he had ever seen. His hand hovered there, just above her. He ached to touch her, rub his open palm against her, caressing her. He closed his eyes and imagined his hand on her hot, bare flesh. She moaned in her sleep, and his eyes flew open. He jerked back in embarrassment and pulled at his crotch to ease the tightness. He stood abruptly and stared at the telling bulge.

  Feeling like an untried schoolboy, he stroked himself, relishing in the response of the part of him he had never thought to use again. Harder and harder his rod grew. He looked longingly at Iseabail’s sleeping form. He sat with his back to the far wall and imagined what he would do to her. His hand became hers as she stroked him, preparing him for her. When he was swollen, she would seat herself on his shaft and ride him. Her lovely breasts would heave and bounce, begging for his mouth to suckle them. He groaned out loud. Again, it was gone. His shaft lay limp. He was disappointed this time. He wanted more. He wanted release.