Highland Vow

by Hannah Howell

  The woman nodded, shyly admitting to a skill good enough to understand the recipes for her scents and soaps. She and Elspeth bartered for a little while. By the time Elspeth left the tiny shop, she had purchased the night rail for half its cost and gotten a few hints on what men liked. It seemed that, once women learned she was fighting for a man’s heart, they not only excused a great deal that would otherwise shock them, but were eager to offer advice. It was the romance of it, Elspeth supposed.

  Near the inn she met an old woman selling ribbons. Even though she had already bought two, Elspeth stopped to look over the woman’s wares. Hiding behind the elder lady’s skirts was a small, big-eyed girl. Both were ragged and looked hungry. Even as Elspeth talked to the child, she knew she would be parting with a little more of her coin. Finally, after buying two ribbons she did not need for far more than the old woman asked, she started on her way to the inn only to find that way blocked by three large men. They were eyeing her in a way that made her blood chill.

  “If ye would excuse me, sirs,” she said pleasantly, attempting to step around them only to have them move to block her path again.

  “A bonny wee lass ye are,” said the darkest of the three.

  “Thank ye kindly. Now if ye would just let me pass.”

  “And all alone.”

  “My mon waits for me at the inn.”

  “Oh, aye? No mon would let a lass what looks like ye and sounds like ye to run about unguarded.”

  Elspeth surreptitiously adjusted her bag so that her hands were free. She knew she had no chance of winning against three burly men, but if they attacked, she might be able to delay being captured and dragged off long enough for help to come. She also intended to scream, to make a great deal of noise, in the hope that someone would come to her aid. Since she was not sure if Cormac was still at the inn, she could not count on his rescue.

  “I will be sure to tell him of your advice,” she said. “Sir Cormac will be most grateful,” she added, heavily stressing the word sir, but only the shortest one of the three men seemed to find mention of a knight of any interest.

  It happened too quickly for her to react completely. Two of the three men lunged at her. The third, who had frowned at the mention of a knight, hesitated, then turned and fled, ignoring the taunts of his companions. Elspeth managed to get out several earsplitting screams before the dark man got one filthy hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled fiercely and was gratified to hear grunts of pain and curses, but she was still being dragged away.

  Then, suddenly, she was free. The men not only released her, but she was shoved aside so roughly she ended up sprawled in the street. As she stumbled to her feet she saw people watching her. They had obviously seen what was happening, but had not been moved to help her. Sending them a look of pure disgust, she turned to find Cormac standing between her and her attackers, his sword pointing at the dark man’s soft belly. Cormac looked as if he ached to kill her attackers, and they looked as if they desperately wished they had followed the companion they had so loudly taunted about his cowardice. Elspeth waited tensely to see what would happen, torn between wanting the men to pay dearly for the brutality they had intended to inflict upon her and not wanting to see Cormac cut down two unarmed men sweating with fear.

  Cormac stared at the two men he faced. They were so terrified he was sure they had soiled themselves. When he had seen them dragging off a fiercely struggling Elspeth, his rage had been swift and blinding. As he had drawn his sword, his only thought had been to kill them. They must have seen that murderous intent in his face, for they had not only immediately released Elspeth, but they had also thrown her away. They had not been quick enough to escape him, however, and he had them pinned between him and the wattle and daub walls of the cooper’s shop. Seeing that Elspeth was unharmed, his rage had eased enough for him to see that he faced two complete cowards. They had not even attempted to draw the knives he could see sticking out of their boots. Although he felt that men who forced themselves upon women deserved death, he could not bring himself to cut them down as they stood there trembling.

  “Are ye hurt, Elspeth?” Cormac asked.

  “Nay, I am fine, Cormac,” she replied.

  “Get their knives.” He pressed his sword to the dark man’s belly. “Dinnae try anything, either of ye, for I can cut this mon open in a blinking.”

  Cormac’s voice was so cold it even made Elspeth shiver as she quickly collected the men’s knives. “Done, Cormac.”

  “Leave,” he told the men. “I should slaughter ye like the swine ye are, but I havenae the stomach to cut down men so afeared that they have pissed themselves. But heed me: Dinnae e’er let me set eyes on ye again. Go.”

  They went. Elspeth was astounded at just how fast the men could run. A squeak of surprise escaped her when Cormac roughly grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her toward the inn. One glance at his face told her that his anger was now fixed on her.

  “I cannae believe ye were fool enough to go out wandering about all on your own,” Cormac snapped.

  “’Tis nay dark yet and I stayed within the bounds of the village,” she protested.

  “And ye saw just how safe that was.”

  “It shouldnae be unsafe. I but went to buy a few ribbons. A simple common chore hundreds of lasses do each day. Then three fools corner me, talking foolishness about how a lass who looks and sounds like me shouldnae be allowed to roam about alone. And what, pray tell, does how I sound matter? And how dare ye growl at me just because some fools try to steal what they werenae offered and have no right to?”

  He stopped just inside the tavern, took a quick look around to make sure it would be safe to leave her alone for a moment, then stared at her. She had looked pale when he had first faced her after the attack. Now she was flushed with anger. He supposed she had good reason for that anger and was right to say that she did not deserve his fury. She had done nothing wrong. She simply did not understand what she could do to a man with her lithe beauty and that sensual voice. It was not something he could easily explain, either.

  There was still Sir Colin as a threat, however, and he decided to use that to make her understand the danger of going off alone. “What if they had been Sir Coilin’s men?”

  Elspeth bit her bottom lip in consternation, for she realized she had forgotten all about that looming threat. “I dinnae think they were.”

  “Nay, but they could have been. The next men might be. I havenae yet seen any signs of the mon, but I ken he is searching for you. He has killed to get ye once, so we ken there is nothing he willnae do to get ye back.”

  “If he can find me,” she felt compelled to protest. “That willnae be easy.”

  “True, but it isnae impossible, either, and ye arenae the only one who forgot that.” He glanced back at the few men in the tavern, scowling when he caught them all staring at Elspeth. “Weel, ’tis plain that ye cannae be left alone. Fate clearly doesnae want me to veer an inch from the torturous path she has set me on,” he muttered. “Wait here.” After sending the men in the tavern one sweeping glare as a warning to stay away from Elspeth, he went in search of the innkeeper.

  The incident with the village bullies had shown Cormac that he could not leave Elspeth alone, could not separate himself from the temptation of her and protect her at the same time. He felt torn as he informed the innkeeper that he now wished to share the room with his wife. Part of him was quite obviously pleased at the prospect of sharing a bed with Elspeth, of sharing that glorious passion that flared so easily between them, but another part of him was disgusted by his own weakness. In the end he would be using Elspeth, sating his body with hers while holding all else for another. Despite her apparent acceptance of that, he knew she deserved so much more.

  It was not until she was back in her room, watching a grim-faced Cormac bring in his things, that Elspeth realized what had happened. They would no longer have separate rooms. She washed up in preparation for the meal they would soon share and fought
hard to hide her delight over the arrangements. She easily excused the way Cormac looked as if he was facing the gallows. No man would be pleased to have his strenuous attempts to be chivalrous all ruined. Recalling the desire she had felt in him, that passion that had so readily equaled her own, made it easier to endure his black mood. After all, he would not be so upset if he was confident he could resist her.

  Her understanding was severely strained as they shared a hearty meal. Cormac responded so abysmally to her attempts at conversation that she finally gave up. She began to think the night was not going to be the wondrous passionate time she had hoped for. Surely a man sunk so deeply into a black mood, as Cormac now was, could not feel amorous.

  Trying to convince herself that there was still a chance to continue her plan, Elspeth excused herself and went to the room they were going to share. She washed up, donned her scandalous night rail, and dabbed her new scent in what she hoped were all the appropriate spots. Then, instinct telling her it would not be wise to face Cormac so boldly until he had released some of the blackness weighing him down, she wrapped herself in a blanket. Praying that he would not stay in the tavern drinking himself into a stupor, she curled up in a hard chair near the small fire and waited.

  When Cormac finally joined her, he looked neither drunk nor quite as black humored as he had earlier. He did, however, look chagrined that she was still awake. After giving her an absent smile, he sat down on the edge of the bed and took off his boots. Elspeth decided that she could lose little by trying to find out what ailed the man.

  “Ye look as if someone has died,” she said, moving to stand in front of him.

  Cormac noticed she was barefoot and sighed. She really did have pretty, little feet. Elspeth had none of the attributes poets and minstrels praised. She was not fair of hair or blue of eye or sweet, modest, and retiring. Nor was she fulsome, although her slender body held all the curves any man could want. And yet he thought she had to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, in face, in body, and in spirit. He supposed most men would excuse him for wanting her so much and probably think him completely mad for his reluctance to take what she offered him so freely.

  “I find I am not the honorable mon I thought I was,” he said, finally meeting her searching gaze.

  “Why? Because ye didnae hold firm to your vows?” she asked.

  He had not even considered that, but was loath to admit it, so he simply ignored her question. “I have let my lusts rule me. I have bedded a virgin maid, and sweet Jesu, I want to do so again. Yet I am not free. I travel to a woman I have been bound to for ten years and this time I may weel be able to save her from further ill use by her family. After all these years, I may weel be able to fulfill the vow I once made and marry her.” He hesitated and dragged his fingers through his hair.

  Elspeth prayed he would cease speaking of Isabel, for she was tempted to scream at him to open his cursed eyes and actually look at the woman he was wasting his life on. “As I have told ye before, ye fret too much.”

  “Angel, I want you. I dinnae think there is a part of me that doesnae ache for you. And now that I ken what we can share together, that hunger only grows stronger. ’Tisnae right, for I can offer ye naught but my passion. Ye deserve more. If I give into this hunger, I will just be using ye to slack it, for I ken I cannae give ye any more and I ken that it must end. That is wrong, Elspeth, and yet I am ashamed to confess that I am verra eager to be wrong.”

  “Ah, poor Cormac, how ye do love to torment yourself. I have said that I want ye. I have told ye that I burn for you. Ye have told me the truth: Ye cannae offer me any more than passion. I prefer to think of what we can share as a pleasant thing, a joyous sharing. If ye wish to think of it as using me, then, fine, use me.” She let go of the blanket.

  Cormac watched the blanket slide down her body and pool at her feet. He lifted his gaze back to her and drew his breath in so sharply he nearly choked himself. The night rail she wore somehow both concealed and revealed. It was so thin he could see the outline of her slender body yet cleverly placed lace kept certain intimate areas almost modestly concealed. He tore his gaze from her body and looked at her face just as she smiled. It was a smile of sensual invitation that heated his blood yet there was the hint of mischievousness there as well. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. The knowledge of what he could do to her as well was all that kept that from pinching his pride.

  “Where did ye get that?” he asked as he quickly shed his doublet and shirt.

  “From a wee shop in the town. Do ye like it?”

  “’Tis the devil’s own creation made to tempt a mon into lustful sin.”

  “I should hope so, for I paid a fair price for it.”

  “Wretched lass,” he murmured, his voice trembling with laughter as he finished shedding his clothes.

  The way Elspeth stared at him made him feel both weak with desire and not just a little vain. She made no attempt to hide how much she appreciated the look of him. He found himself thinking it was just how Isabel looked at him and then frowned, for he suddenly knew that was not true. There was always a measuring quality in Isabel’s gaze, as if she compared him to someone. That thought so disturbed him that he quickly banished it and turned his full attention back to Elspeth. Although he could offer her no future, he vowed that, for whatever time they would have together, he would be solely hers in body and in mind.

  “My maiden dreams ne’er came near to matching the beauty of you,” she said, reaching out to boldly stroke his hardened staff.

  “Ye had maidenly dreams about me?” Cormac clenched his hands at his sides as he fought for enough control to enjoy her touch for a while.

  “Oh, aye. Ye were my knight. I found ye wounded, being hunted by men who wished ye dead for a crime ye didnae commit, and ye were such a bonny lad e’en then. Aye, and then ye kissed my hand in parting.” She took a step closer to him so that she could caress him with more ease, delighted at the pleasure he so obviously received from her touch. “At first they were sweet, childish dreams of heroic rescues, but then I grew older and learned something about the ways of men and women. Then those dreams were nay longer so sweet, but hot. Verra, verra hot.”

  Her soft husky voice stroked him almost as well as her long slender fingers. The thought of being the man in her dreams for years was a heady one. It could also mean that it was not simply desire that drove Elspeth into his arms, that her feelings ran a great deal deeper than she admitted. It would explain a lot. It would also mean that it would be most unkind of him to indulge in a brief affair with her, then cast her aside once he was reunited with Isabel.

  He was just about to ask her, as bluntly as he dared, what she did feel for him when she suddenly went down on her knees in front of him and ran her tongue along his aching length. His whole body swayed from the force of the delight that rushed through him. Cormac tugged on the ribbons at the sleeves of her gown and watched it slide off her body. With his hands on her shoulders, he struggled to contain his passion long enough to savor the way she loved him with her mouth. She followed his hoarse requests with a sweet willingness that made him dizzy.

  Finally, knowing he could endure no more, he pulled her to her feet and nearly threw her on the bed. Despite the crippling need he felt to be inside her, he held back, wanting to be sure she was ready for him. When he slid his fingers through the tight curls at the juncture of her thighs and found her already damp with invitation, he lost the last shreds of his control. With a soft cry he plunged into her. It was a wild, frantic ride, and when she cried out in release, he was right there with her.

  It was a long time before Cormac regained the wit to recall just how fierce his loving had been and he cautiously raised himself up on his forearms to look at her. The faint smile on her lightly flushed face was one of pure female satisfaction. Cormac did not think she knew what a wonder she was.

  “Did I hurt ye, lass?” he still felt compelled to ask.

  “Nay,” she replied, then grin
ned. “But the headboard of this bed was a wee bit hard.”

  He laughed as he eased the intimacy of their embrace. After cleaning them both off, he quickly rejoined her in bed, lying on his back and tugging her into his arms until she was sprawled on top of him. He was in it now, knee deep and sinking fast, but Cormac decided he would worry about it all later.

  Elspeth felt him harden against her and her eyes widened. “Again?”

  “Ah, angel, now that we have begun this affair, I mean for it to be the wildest, most passionate, and most exhausting one there has e’er been.”

  That suited Elspeth just fine. It meant he would not be pushing her away again. And just maybe, he would find beneath that wildness and that passion the spark of love. And if not, if she lost her gamble for his heart, once the pain eased she would have a lot of sweet memories.

  Chapter Six

  While she waited for Cormac to finish stabling their horses, Elspeth wandered to the doors of the warm, and a little too fragrant, stable to take a deep breath of fresh air. It had troubled her a little to find that Cormac had gotten her her own horse, but she had firmly told herself not to be so foolish. The need for one was easy to see and she could not put their lives at risk just because she liked to be close to Cormac. He was no longer trying to push her away. She did not have to greedily cling to every small opportunity to be near him.

  Although their affair was only two days old, he was certainly living up to his promise to make it a wild, passionate, and exhausting one. If they kept spending so much time indulging their passion and so little time traveling, it would be Michaelmas before they reached the king’s court. That suited her just fine, for at court waited Isabel. Elspeth found a small reason to hope in the fact that Cormac was not rushing to his lady’s side.