“It’s a lengthy story, and we can give ye more details with time,” Blair began. “Lachlan kens we found Hardi just as he arrived at court. Ye also ken he didna benefit from the schooling we did. While I was teaching Hardi to read and do sums, we discovered his clan sent him with far too little to pay the taxes. We met with the king more than once, and we sent ye missives to keep ye abreast of the situation, but only a few days ago we learned only one of ma missives made it to ye.”
Hardi picked up the story as he laced his fingers with Blairs. “A Cameron messenger came to tell me there’d been a raid, but I soon learned it was a ruse led by ma father’s cousins, Faolán and Drostan. Either way, I had to return here. We hadnae heard back from ye aboot ma request to court Blair. King Robert granted me permission in yer stead. We went to Inverlochy, where Blair spent a fortnight. Without a betrothal agreement and things up in the air with ma council, I didna want to bring Blair here until I kenned it was safe. But I was in need of someone who could advise me and also read or write ma correspondence.”
“It wasna that long after I arrived at Inverlochy that we decided to handfast. Mama, Da, I’m sorry that we didna wait for a kirk wedding. There were many reasons to handfast immediately, but the greatest one is that we love each other. I think we always have.” Blair glanced at Hardi, and they shared a private look, both remembering their early infatuation with one another. “It began as a love you might think of between siblings, but we arenae children anymore.”
“Blair remained at Inverlochy even after we handfasted. I visited often, and she continued to teach me to read and write. It was a visit from the Lord of the Isles that made us realize we couldnae wait any longer to bring Blair here. There was far more afoot than we imagined. I can swear to ye that through this all, there was never a direct threat to Blair’s life. Though I canna say the same for some of the men caught in Blair’s sights. She frightens most of ma men,” Hardi chuckled as he brought Blair’s hand to his mouth, and he pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “We unearthed a plot to attack the keep and remove me. Through Blair’s intelligence and some lucky coincidences, we learned of when the attack would come, and we were able to thwart it.”
Hardi stopped telling the story as he looked at Blair. They hadn’t decided what to do with the men in the tunnel, especially if any still survived. They didn’t want to release them for fear that they would attack, but neither could countenance leaving them all to perish. Hardi shifted in his chair as he looked at Hamish. The same need to please Hamish overwhelmed him, just as it had when he was an adolescent. He wanted Hamish to be proud of him, and he feared that this was doomed when he learned that Hardi ordered two hundred men to their death.
“What came of this threat?” Hamish prodded, but his voice lacked accusation or judgement. Blair nodded to Hardi to continue.
“We learned there was a tunnel leading from the keep toward Inverlochy. Piece by piece, we learned who intended to attack us and when. We sealed the entrance to the tunnel within the keep.” Hardi swallowed. “Laird Sutherland, I used yer men for ma personal use rather than have them remain with Blair as the time drew near for the attack.”
“But,” Blair hurried to interrupt. “Hardi did it because Tomas and Donald were the only two men he trusts implicitly.” Blair rose from her chair and walked around the desk. She glanced at Hardi and raised her eyebrows as he nodded. “Hardi only sent them on a mission because I would be safe here.” Blair pressed the tiny level, and the Murphy door swung open. She stepped aside so her family could see the secret cubby behind the bookcase.
“I sent Donald and Tomas to dump the dirt we found from the tunnel into the opening at the other end. Once all the Mackintoshes, Shaws, and MacThomases were inside the tunnel, we trapped them between the mountain of dirt and the wall made from dirt sacks and wood. Blair thought to pour birch tar over the hatch to seal it,” Hardi explained. He shifted once more as he watched Blair return to her chair. He felt his gorge rise at the prospect of telling Hamish that they’d never released the men. He feared the older laird’s reaction—his horror, his disgust, his denouncement.
“Dinna be ill, Hardwin,” Hamish chuckled. “They’re still down there, arenae they? Ye fear ma reaction?”
Both Hardi and Blair nodded as they once more held hands, more out of moral support than affection. They waited for Hamish to continue.
“Were ye able to send for the Donalds or the MacMillans?” Lachlan asked.
“Nay,” Hardi answered. “There wasna time between when we learned of the impending attack. At first we thought we had nearly six sennights, but it wasna long before we found out we had less than a moon. Then the tunnel was ready even before that. The conspirators killed messengers who carried missives to and from ye.”
“Da, Tomas and a Cameron went in search of a Cameron messenger’s body and found Anders and Samuel’s bodies, too.”
“We kenned something happened to them both,” Hamish nodded. “We just didna ken what.”
“Osgar, a man who turned out to be ma second cousin, plotted with Lady Robena MacDonald, Chieftain Artair MacDonald’s widow. They devised a plan that Faolán and Drostan supported. We only learned that Drostan was Osgar’s son on the night set for the attack. A rather twisted and complicated family feud that I didna ken I was a part of. It boils down to Osgar wanted me out of the way and would wait for Faolán and Drostan to die, so he could become laird. Lady Robena carried Osgar’s child, and they hoped to unite all the Cameron lands under their names and their child’s.”
“Ye said the Mackintoshes, Shaws, and MacThomases,” Kieran spoke up. “Didna this mon, Osgar, nae realize they would surely kill him as soon as ye were dead. The land is what ye’ve been feuding aboot for years.”
“He was certain that he could keep paying them off by stealing from us and the MacDonalds,” Hardi explained.
“Bluidy nutter,” Maude muttered.
“So now ye have how many Mackintoshes, MacThomases, and Shaws trapped in yer tunnel?” Hamish brought the conversation back to the men trapped underground. “What will ye do with them?”
“Blair and I havenae decided,” Hardi confessed. He watched as Amelia’s eyes darted to Blair, pride shining from them as she dipped her head in a brief nod. He caught Maude doing the same. It reminded Hardi how blessed he was to marry a Sutherland lass.
“Ye fear they’ll come out swinging. Or at least what’s left of them,” Hamish volunteered.
“Aye,” Hardi grimaced.
“Well, I brought all but the absolute few I couldnae spare to protect Dunrobin. Kieran’s done the same. We outnumber those eejits, so let’s free the ones who survived. They can see that they dinna just fight the Camerons.” Hamish shook his head before continuing. “The MacMillans and Donalds are good people, but they havenae done shite to stand beside ye during these feuds with the Chattans. Besides, the MacMillans are too far away to be much help. Ye ken who stands behind ye now.” Hamish didn’t have to name the Sutherlands, the Sinclairs, the Rosses, the Mackays and the MacLeods of Lewis. It went without saying that Hardi and the Camerons had the backing of the most powerful clans in the northern Highlands.
“Take us to the beginning of the tunnel,” Kieran broke in. “We’ll set up camp there, and they can have a full view of their welcome party. I would say, though, if ye really want them to live, we should walk the horses. If that many horses canter or gallop, the tunnel will likely collapse.”
Blair’s eyes went as wide as saucers, and Hardi sucked in a whistling breath. When everyone looked at them, Hardi spoke up. “Ye likely rode right over the tunnel on yer way here. Did ye come from the east or the west of Loch Lochy?”
“West, and we stayed west. We didna pass between Tor and Inverlochy,” Amelia reassured the couple.
“Then we should go while there’s still plenty of light,” Blair suggested.
Fifty-Two
It took close to two hours for the Sutherland and MacLeods to pitch their camp and dig into the tunnel. There w
as an agreement that unsealing the hatch in the storeroom and breaking down the wall was more efficient, but no one wanted to let the enemy into the keep.
Men from the Cameron, Sutherland, and MacLeod clans set to working digging through the subterranean dirt mountain. Tomas and Donald scowled, but they took their turn with shovels too. When they reached the bottom, the last men digging called out to any survivors. They lowered two ladders into the hole and waited to see who emerged. Filthy and weak from two days below ground, a mixture of plaids climbed the ladders. The array of tents, cook fires, horses, and men were expected but still astounding to see. Several men were certain they heard a baby crying.
From the two hundred who entered the tunnel alive, one hundred and seventeen breathing men exited. They carried their dead with them. Blair arranged for men to distribute bread and water to the survivors. When the last man alive groaned at the sunlight, Hardi and Blair met with Hamish and Lachlan to determine what the Camerons’ demands would be. They’d all seen Laird Shaw was dead, and Laird Mackintosh appeared to be on his last leg. Only Laird MacThomas looked to have suffered mildly. He surrendered on behalf of all three clans, but it satisfied neither Hardi nor Blair. Hardi, Blair, and her family returned to the keep for the night, and Blair and Hardi met in their solar after the evening meal. Between them, they drafted a treaty of sorts to end the feud with the Mackintoshes. It didn’t end their troubles with the Macphersons, but it would lessen the ongoing threat.
Blair watched in amazement as Hardi labored over writing the document after they agreed upon the terms. It took him at least three times as long as it would have taken Blair, but he did it on his own. To ensure the treaty would be recognized if ever disputed, they’d agreed to write two versions, one in Latin and one in Scots.
“I canna believe I just did that,” Hardi murmured in awe as he gazed at his handwriting on the numerous sheets of parchment. He laid the quill on the desk and rose, so he could move each piece to the table to dry. He put the stopper in the inkwell before putting it and the quill into a drawer. Blair watched in silence, unsure of what Hardi intended. She squeaked when he caught her around the waist and lifted her to sit on the desk.
“I have wanted to make love to ye on this desk since ma first lesson,” Hardi shared as he slipped his hands beneath Blair’s gown and pushed her skirts up her thighs. “I want to strip ye bare and taste every inch of ye before I bury ma cock in yer cunny.”
“Then get yer hands out from under ma skirts and get these ribbons untied,” Blair grinned. She twisted to give Hardi access to the back of her gown as their arms tangled while she unpinned his plaid and loosened his belt. It was only a matter of moments before they were undressed. Blair’s hands roamed over Hardi’s abdomen and chest before sliding down to wrap around his rod. She kept her eyes locked with his as she stroked him with tantalizing slowness.
“I shall remember this, and ye shall rue yer teasing in just a minute,” Hardi warned.
“I dinna think so,” Blair scooted off the desk before kneeling before him. With little preamble, she took Hardi’s shaft into her mouth, sucking before licking it. She alternated between swirling her tongue around the iron length and taking it into her mouth. Hardi’s breathing rasped as he leaned over to grasp the table, certain the light-headedness Blair induced would keep him from remaining upright.
When he could endure the temptation no longer, he lifted his wife to the desk and pressed her to lie back. He kissed along her neck and collarbone before drifting to her breasts. He lavished attention on them as his fingers worked her core. Blair arched her back as she pressed her breasts together. She knew he enjoyed suckling them as much as she loved the way he tormented her nipples. Blair’s moans blended with Hardi’s deeper groans to create a duet of passion. Hardi withdrew his fingers as he sank to his knees, and Blair watched as he sucked her juices that coated his digits. It was her turn to experience the fine line between pleasure and torture.
Blair thought she would lose all sense of reason as Hardi’s tongue plunged into her over and over before he grazed his stubble over her nub. His teeth followed only for him to suck the pearl that contained hundreds of aroused nerves that pulsed within her. She dug the fingers of one hand into his shoulder as she pinched her nipple with her other. Hardi’s view of his wife writhing on their desk aroused him and kept him hard as he focused all of his attention on pleasuring her.
When they both reached the point where physical need approached agony, Hardi plunged his cock into her entrance. Blair rocked her hips as Hardi thrusted. Almost immediately, Blair’s body erupted with sensation as her climax burst through her. Her long moan and the tightening of her core empowered Hardi in a way that nothing else ever did. Knowing that he connected so deeply with Blair and brought her such pleasure gave him its own type of pleasure.
“I want ye so badly, mo chridhe,” Blair panted. “I dinna ken if this will ever be enough. I want ye every minute of every day.” Blair’s breath hitched with each thrust as Hardi held her body against his. She’d become addicted to the emotion and physical enjoyment of their coupling.
“Good, because I intend to make love to ye until I shut ma eyes for the last time. Then I shall find ye in Heaven and continue loving ye, mo ghaol.”
Neither could speak as their synchronized movements pushed them both over the edge. They clung together as Hardi’s hips continued to rock into Blair, and little bursts of aftershock coursed through her. When Hardi feared the desk was too hard beneath Blair, he lifted her, and her legs went around his waist before he carried her to a chair before the fire. They sat together for a long time as Hardi caressed Blair’s back, and her fingernails trailed along his arm and shoulder. Eventually, Blair sat back.
“I never imagined we would find ourselves together in Stirling, and I never imagined the girl who was once infatuated with ye would be blessed with the chance to love ye,” Blair cupped Hardi’s face. “God, how I love ye, Hardwin. We’ve been through more in the few months we’ve been together than most would endure in a month of Sundays. But I dinna ever want to be anywhere but at yer side.”
“I would keep ye there always. I love ye, Blair. I would likely be dead if it werenae for yer intelligence and yer persistence in teaching me, believing in me, supporting me. And more than aught, loving me. I couldnae be laird without ye.” Hardi grinned. “And I dinna just mean the part aboot being alive. I mean I didna ken how to lead ma people, and I feared they would be better without me as their laird. I’ve learned far more from ye than reading and writing. I feel brave enough now to be laird as long as ye’re ma lady.”
“Always,” Blair promised before they kissed. It wasn’t long before they dressed enough to make their way to their chamber. It was one of the rare nights that they slept all the way through, but their arms and legs remained entangled, no space between them.
Fifty-Three
“I’m nae signing that,” Laird Mackintosh refused.
“Shut up, Angus, and sign the bluidy treaty,” Laird MacThomas hissed. “The day is lost. Cameron and his wife outmaneuvered us, and now Michael is dead and so are half his men along with too many of mine.”
“Ye’re nae the one losing what rightfully belongs to them,” Angus Mackintosh snarled.
“It’s been lost since before ye were born,” Hardi pointed out. “If yer clan wanted Tor Castle, they never should have left. But they did. We are here now, and we arenae leaving.”
“I hope yer bollocks fall off,” Angus spat.
“They arenae going anywhere, just like ma clan. Sign the treaty, Angus. Ye can walk away with some dignity, and yer men can limp away with their lives,” Hardi stated.
Lairds Cameron, Mackintosh, MacThomas, MacLeod, and Sutherland, along with Blair, sat in the laird’s solar in Inverlochy Castle three days after they freed the men from the tunnel. It had been uncertain whether Laird Mackintosh would pull through. Blair was certain it was spite that kept the man alive. After their crushing win over the Camerons, the Mackintoshes
assumed they would maintain their superiority. But their defeat at Tor Castle made it obvious which clan would ultimately prevail.
Hardi and Blair signed the treaty first, but Angus dragged his feet, prompting Liam MacThomas to speak up. It was clear Liam wanted to put as much distance between his clan and Tor Castle as he could in one day. He pulled the parchment toward him and signed before pushing it back in front of Angus. Begrudgingly, Angus signed. Hamish and Kieran then signed as witnesses. In six strokes of the quill, their decades-long feud ceased with a truce. No one in the chamber believed there wouldn’t be altercations and antagonism, but everyone—Angus Mackintosh included—prayed that the violence would end.
“Ye may have beaten me, but dinna think the Macphersons are through with ye,” Angus snarled as he stood.
“Let Fergus Macpherson ken that I would be happy to pay him a visit on ma way home.” Hamish’s comment sounded offhand, but the steely eyes told everyone that the menace was real. Within the hour, the Mackintoshes, Shaws and MacThomases walked away from Inverlochy; their dead hung over their horses’ backs. Blair and Hardi knew Angus’s warning was true, but it relieved them both to know the Sutherlands were now the Camerons’ sworn allies.
With the would-be invaders on their way home, Hardi and Blair turned their attention to Lady Robena and Inverlochy Castle. Hardi wrote a missive to Laird Napier while Blair looked over his shoulder. The message offered an abbreviated version of the events and downplayed much of Robena’s role in the plot. They’d learned upon arrival at Inverlochy that Robena killed Artair in a heated argument about her order to allow the three Chattan clans shelter on their way to Tor Castle. She spewed venom at her beleaguered husband, confessing to her role as the true strategist behind Osgar’s plan and that Osgar, not Artair, was the father of her bairn. She’d stabbed Artair in the throat before going into labor. Murray, Artair’s illegitimate son, had also carried on an affair with Robena, and she wasn’t certain whether Murray or Osgar sired her daughter. It wasn’t even midday when Robena, accompanied by a score of Cameron men, left Inverlochy to return to her clan in disgrace. She’d sneered at Blair, no remorse or shame to be seen. Blair kept her courtly mien locked in place as Robena rode away in a wagon, her daughter in her arms.
A Saint at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Six Page 33
