Highland Vow

by Hannah Howell

  There was also the possibility that he pushed aside all attempts by other women to catch and hold his interest. Well, she mused as she spread out their bedding, she always welcomed a true challenge. She was not sure she really had that much of a choice anyway. Her body wanted him and so did her heart. Somehow it seemed a sin not even to try to win him, even though she knew she would break a lot of rules in the attempt.

  Nay, she thought as she curled up in a blanket and watched Cormac bank the fire, she was not going to win this man with sweet words, warm looks, and gentle flirtation. She was going to have to be bold and cast aside all restrictions and virginal hesitation. Cormac felt himself bound to another woman. To break that bond, Elspeth knew she would have to give him everything. It was a frightening gamble, for if she lost, she would have shredded her pride, cast aside her chastity, and exposed her heart to a thorough, perhaps everlasting, hurt. But then she thought of what she could have if she won the gamble, and she smiled.

  “What are ye grinning about?” Cormac asked as he curled up in his blanket and gave her a crooked half smile.

  Seduction was going to be difficult if he never came closer than two feet away, she thought as she replied, “It wasnae a grin. It was an expression of mild amusement.”

  Cormac laughed. “So what amuses you?”

  Since she could not tell him the truth, she shrugged. “I am free.”

  “For now.”

  “Are ye concerned that Sir Colin will track us down?”

  “Some. We have a good chance of eluding him, but I prefer to remain wary. I learned the worth of that whilst hiding from the Douglases all those years ago.”

  “’Tis wise, I suppose,” she said, then sighed. “I but dislike the idea of having to constantly glance o’er my shoulder.”

  “’Tis nay a good way to walk through life, I confess, but at least one stays alive. After all, if ye are always checking atween your shoulder blades, ’tis verra hard for someone to stick a knife there.”

  “Now there is a fine, peaceful thought to face the night with.”

  Cormac chuckled. “Pardon. Dinnae let it shadow your dreams,” he added in a far more serious tone. “I ne’er did.”

  “With the Douglases seeking to end your life, I wonder that ye e’er got any sleep,” she said, shivering at the thought of the danger he had been in so long ago.

  “Weel, I didnae get too much until I was nearly one and twenty. I was so accustomed to running from any Douglas that it was a while after they decided I was innocent ere I could cease.” Cormac wondered why he was speakingso freely of the aching fear he had suffered through while being hunted; then he decided it was the soft intimacy of the night that prompted such honesty.

  “That was probably for the best.” Elspeth closed her eyes, hoping that would ease the temptation she felt to reach out and touch him, to increase the intimacy they shared to include far more than words. “It may weel have taken a while for all the Douglases to ken that ye were no longer wanted for the murder of a kinsmon. Good news ne’er travels as fast or as far as the bad.”

  “Aye. Rest now, Elspeth. We must be on our way again by dawn.”

  Elspeth just muttered an indistinct sound of agreement. She was tired but she knew sleep would be slow to take hold of her. There was too much on her mind. She did, however, wish Cormac to stop talking. His rich, deep voice reached through the shadows to stroke her, make her ache for his touch. Although she did plan to seduce the man or, at least, tempt him into seducing her, tonight was not a good night to begin that game. They were both too tired and wary of pursuit and a little wary of each other as well. After all, she was no longer the child he had known so long ago and he was no longer that bonny, persecuted youth who had stolen her young girl’s heart. Instinct told her that he was her mate, her love, but she doubted he felt the same. Since she was also a virgin, she needed a little time to accept her decision to gamble with her chastity.

  Cormac forced himself to turn his back on the slight form curled up just feet away. He had never before been so strongly tempted by a woman, other than Isabel. To his dismay, he knew it had been years, if ever, since Isabel had stirred his lusts as swiftly and fiercely as Elspeth did. It could be deprivation causing such a reaction, he told himself. It had been a very long time since he had lain with Isabel or with any woman. Perhaps if he gave into the hunger for a while the sharpness of it would ease.

  He cursed under his breath. He often went months, even a year or more, without easing his lusts. The few times he had weakened, he had simply bedded the source of temptation once, sometimes even a few times, and been cured. If it was any other woman causing the twisting ache in his groin, he would do the same now, but he could not do that to Elspeth. He owed her and the Murrays too much to treat Elspeth so callously. The girl was undoubtedly a virgin and he would not rob her of that prize just to assuage an itch, no matter how strong it was. Soon he would see his Isabel again and she would tend to his needs.

  It was loneliness really, he told himself as he closed his eyes and reached out for the calming touch of sleep. While he was away from his Isabel, it often cut away at him. It was especially keen when she summoned him to her side as she had done but days ago, for as he rode to her, he was filled with hope and desire, but also a gut-wrenching fear. Too often he was too late, had but a night or two in her arms before she was heartlessly married to another. This time he would win the race, he swore, and finally have Isabel all to himself. Then he would no longer be troubled by the sight of unruly raven hair and beautiful green eyes.

  Payton laughed and Elspeth laughed with him. She turned to share the jest with Robert, one of her uncle Nigel’s men-at-arms, and gasped. His rough features were contorted with a chilling mixture of pain and surprise. Even as she reached for him, blood flowed from his mouth and he slid from his horse. Elspeth turned back to Payton and screamed as an arrow slammed into his back, thrusting him from his saddle to sprawl upon the ground. She started to dismount, only faintly aware of the death scream of her other guard and the sound of swiftly approaching horses. She needed to get to Payton. He was so still, facedown in the dirt, the dark stain of his life’s blood rapidly darkening the back of his shirt. When she was grabbed from behind and tossed, belly down, across a saddle, she screamed in fury.

  “Nay, ye bastards, I must help Payton!” She fought against the hands trying to hold her steady.

  “Elspeth, calm yourself.”

  “Payton! I must help Payton!” She began to weep. “There is so much blood.”

  “Sssh, Elspeth. Hush, hush. ’Tis but a dream, a dark memory come to steal away the peace of sleep.”

  Slowly Elspeth calmed, realizing that the hands she felt stroking her, soothing her, did not roughly hold her down. No horse was beneath her. The deep voice pulling her from the cold horror of her memory was gentle, sympathetic, not the harsh, taunting one that had told her her cousin was dead, food for scavengers. It was another moment before she was fully aware of where she was and who held her, but she hesitated to reveal that she had returned to her senses.

  It was pleasant indeed to lie there, enfolded in Cormac’s strong arms. He felt good, safe yet tempting. Although the memory of Payton lying so still upon the ground, soaked with blood, twisted her heart with grief, her tears began to ease. She could sense Cormac’s sympathy, his honest need to ease her pain and sorrow. A moment later, she smiled faintly against his broad chest. She could also feel his desire. It was there, just beneath those more gentlemanly feelings, fighting against the restraints he strove to keep on it. She nuzzled her face against his throat, heard him softly catch his breath, and felt his desire rapidly grow stronger.

  Cormac closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself when he felt Elspeth cuddle closer. The feel of her slender curves against his body heated his blood, making control almost impossible to maintain. It had been a mistake to get so close yet he knew he could never have ignored her distress.

  “Better now?” he asked, not surpri
sed to hear the husky note of desire in his voice, but hoping she did not.

  “Aye.” She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close when she felt him tense to move away.

  “Ye and Payton were close?” Cormac prayed that talking would turn his thoughts away from the passionate fantasies filling his head.

  “Aye. In truth, if there is a favorite amongst all of the Murray brats, ’tis Payton. He must certainly be the most beautiful of us all. I refuse to believe that he is dead.” She sighed. “I think I could almost wish my old nightmare back rather than keep seeing Payton fall with an arrow in his back.”

  “Ye had another dark dream that could rob ye of sleep?”

  “Aye. Another cousin.” She shivered and he held her a little tighter. “Sorcha, my uncle Eric’s firstborn. Three years ago she and I were captured by an enemy of his. That mon and two of his minions beat Sorcha and raped her. They made me watch. I was to share that fate, but we were rescued by Eric, my fither, and my uncle Nigel. When Uncle Eric saw what the men had done to his child, his revenge was swift and brutal.”

  “What happened to Sorcha then?”

  “She went to a nunnery. I believe she will soon take her vows.”

  “Does she truly have the calling or does she hide?”

  “I believe that she does have a calling. She was always, weel, more pious than the rest of us. We were all saddened that she left us, though she is near to Donncoill and we all visit whene’er we can, but ’tis easy to see she is happy. Whether ’tis because of a calling or because she feels safe or both, who can say for certain? Her parents have accepted it. They are pleased that she is alive and that the shadows have left her.”

  “But they did not leave you, did they?”

  “Nay. Not until now.”

  “Whene’er I thought of Donncoill, I recalled only peace and happiness. ’Tis sad to ken that even such havens can be marred by tragedy. ’Tis even sadder that ye were witness to all of it.”

  “Och, weel, considering how many Murrays there are about, ’twould be a miracle if none were e’er harmed.”

  Cormac laughed softly. “Aye, there were a lot of you.” He gave into the urge to kiss her hair and said quietly, “I pray, for your sake, that your cousin Payton is blessed, that he somehow survives.”

  “Thank ye,” she replied in an equally soft voice. “If any mon can win out o’er such misfortune, ’tis Payton.”

  “Now that ye have calmed some, I shall return to my own bed.”

  Elspeth clung just a little tighter, halting his move. She needed to keep him close to her. It occurred to her that Cormac could use the night, the separation of their beds, to fight the desire he felt for her. Each night she could lose any ground gained during the day. There were not many reasons she could give to hold him close at night, not until they became lovers. A lingering fear after a nightmare could serve very well. Although she felt a little guilty for using his sympathy in such a way, she decided the battle she was about to engage in warranted a little subterfuge. Even if she did not win his heart for her own, she might ease Isabel’s choking grip on it, and that could only be for the best.

  “Could ye nay stay close?” she asked, pleased with the slight waver in her voice.

  He could, but he should not, and he could not really tell her why. “It wouldnae be proper,” he muttered, disgusted by that weak excuse.

  “I believe propriety was lost the moment Lord Colin grabbed me off my horse. ’Tis just that I fear the dream will return if I am too much alone.”

  “What happens when ye suffer a nightmare at home?”

  “Someone stays with me. I have a verra big bed.”

  Cormac did not wish to know that. Already images were forming in his mind of a particularly sultry Elspeth sprawled naked on a large bed, reaching for him as he lowered himself on top of her, pressing himself close to the ebony curls between her soft white thighs…. He shook his head, grasping desperately for some thought, any thought, that did not include a naked, willing Elspeth.

  The problem was, there was no way he could refuse her request. She had watched her cousin and two men-at-arms be murdered, had been kidnapped, threatened with rape, and locked up in a tower room. It was no surprise that she was afraid to be alone. Cormac suspected she was accustomed to being surrounded by loved ones, people she could readily turn to if troubled. Now she had only him and he could not seem to keep his thoughts out of his breeches.

  This girl had saved his life, he sternly reminded himself. He also belonged to another, was even now traveling to join her and, God willing, finally marry her. Both things should be enough to control his errant lusts. All Elspeth wanted was to feel safe. He was a grown man. He ought to be able to lie at her side and not sweat with need.

  “Aye, I will stay close. Just let me fetch my bedding,” he said, hoping his reluctance could not be heard in his voice.

  Elspeth let him go, watching him steadily as he moved his bedding next to hers and made one large bed. He was so tense when he settled down next to her she was surprised he did not creak. It might not be easy to seduce a man so intent on behaving himself. She turned onto her side, her back to him, then reached behind herself, grasped his hand, and tugged his arm around her waist. The man was so stiff it was like trying to cuddle with a rock, she mused and smiled faintly. The strength of his resistance, however, simply proved how strong his desire was, and that gave her hope.

  “Thank ye, Cormac,” she said, wriggling backward until she was pressed up against him. “I feel safe now.”

  “’Tis the least I can do.”

  Elspeth bit back a giggle. Cormac sounded as if he was choking on something. The part of him twitching impudently against her backside told her it was desire strangling his voice. Surely something that strong would be impossible to fight for long. She could not do so. She already had to wrestle with the urge to turn in his arms, kiss him, and rub her body up against his. Elspeth closed her eyes and hoped his imaginings were as wild and as vivid as her own. After all, if she was going to ache and lose sleep, it was only fair that he did, too.

  “Good sleep, Cormac,” she said, speaking only a little bit above a whisper.

  Cormac inwardly cursed. That soft, husky voice was like a caress. He had not thought his body could swell with desire any more than it had already, and he did not like to be proven wrong. The woman was dangerous, more so because she did not seem to know it. Cormac was surprised Balfour Murray ever let his daughter leave the protective walls of Donncoill; then he decided that a father might not see that his daughter was such a temptation to a man.

  “Good sleep to you, Elspeth,” he whispered back.

  Feeling his desire as she did, Elspeth suspected her dreams would not be restful ones, but they would certainly be interesting.

  It was a while before Cormac felt Elspeth relax in sleep. He tried to pull away, but she simply followed him with her lithe body, cuddling up even closer than before. Her shapely backside rubbed against his aching groin and he shuddered.

  In a village barely a day’s ride away there was a tavern maid who often granted a man her favors for a small fee. He had never answered her smiles before, but perhaps he should do so now. A good rutting would take the edge off a long unsatisfied need, and he would find the temptation of Elspeth easier to resist.

  Even as he considered taking the time to dally with the tavern maid, he knew it was foolish. A waste of time and money. Such desperate measures had always failed him before, leaving him empty and unsatisfied. He was cursed with a very single-minded lust. Once fixed upon a woman, no other would do. Cormac knew he could spend a month in the bed of Scotland’s most skilled whore, and within moments of seeing Elspeth again, he would be in the same dire state he was now.

  What troubled him most was how even thoughts of Isabel, so close and waiting for him, did nothing to cool his ardor. He could not even bring to mind a clear image of Isabel. Elspeth was there, interfering, her green eyes staring out of Isabel’s face until that woman disa
ppeared completely and only Elspeth remained. Reminding himself that it had been a very long time since he had seen Isabel did not ease his troubled mind much. Isabel was the woman he had loved and honored for nearly half his life. She should not be so easily pushed out of his thoughts by a tiny, green-eyed girl, even if that girl had a voice that could melt rock.

  Elspeth moved against him again in a slow, suggestive way. Cormac groaned, then sighed. It was going to be a very long night. If he remained a gentleman, kept his hands off Elspeth, and continued to honor his bond with Isabel, he deserved nothing less than sainthood.

  Chapter Three

  Warmth flooded through Elspeth’s veins as she started to wake. It poured into her from the soft lips brushing temptingly over hers. She did not need to open her eyes, did not even need to be awake, to know who held her, who kissed her. It frightened her a little to know that Cormac was already so much a part of her, but she accepted it. She murmured his name and curled her arms around his neck.

  “Are ye so accustomed to being kissed awake, my wee angel, that it doesnae startle ye?” Cormac asked as he nibbled lightly on her bottom lip.

  It was an insulting question, but Elspeth decided to ignore its implications. Since she so readily accepted and returned his kiss when she was half asleep, it was not surprising that he would wonder about her innocence. She could not tell him she knew him by his smell, by the feel of his desire, or by the fact that her heart already claimed him as its mate. He would either think her mad or trying to entrap him, and he would run, very fast, in the opposite direction. Men, she had discovered at a young age, were not very good about accepting, discussing, or understanding feelings.

  “I kenned it was you.” She threaded her fingers through his thick hair and pressed her body even closer to his. “After all, I fell asleep with ye at my side. ’Tis no great surprise that I would expect to see ye there when I woke.”