by Terry Spear
Her father's face reddened as he looked at his daughter.
Ita's expression had turned to anger at hearing Sorcha's words, but she quickly recovered and pretended to be the injured party. "She lies, da." She looked up at her father with such an innocent expression, Sorcha just shook her head.
"Under the circumstances, we will be leaving now," Laird Montgomery said, giving his daughter a scathing look and then his son.
Sorcha wondered then if Abboid had been the one fighting below stairs when she heard the engagement.
"We will see you out," Ronan said, hesitating to learn if Sorcha wanted to go with him.
Which she did and she was grateful that he would ask it of her.
After they saw Laird Montgomery and his kin off, the portcullis and gates were closed. Ronan and Sorcha said their good nights again to his kin, then they retired to bed.
"You were supposed to be in our chamber with the door bolted. How did the lass attack you if you were locked safely away?" Ronan asked her as he bolted the door.
"You dinna really expect me to answer that question, do you?" She began removing his belt.
"Nay. I am just thankful you were no' injured."
"And you? I heard fighting and—"
He hurried to divest her of her leine.
"Dinna attempt to distract me."
"Abboid fought me, claiming his da had promised you to him."
She sighed and helped him off with his tunic. "I am glad you didna injure him."
"And you, the lass."
"She didna take you in with her fluttering eyelashes, did she?"
"Never." He pulled off Sorcha's chemise, glanced down at the dirk at her thigh, then leaned over and removed it. He swept her up in his arms and took her to bed. But this time, they only slept in the most delightful way, his arms around her, her body nestled against his and she loved it.
But she knew Montgomery would not leave things the way they were. He would send word to Laird MacNeill as to where she was and most likely, what she had done. How that would play out was something she couldn't stop worrying about.
Chapter 9
Six Weeks Later
Every day, Sorcha felt anxious that Laird MacNeill would send someone to cause trouble with Ronan, and every day she knew her husband was concerned about the same thing. Now, she was carrying their first bairn and she thought some of her excessive anxiousness was due to that.
They had just sat down to the nooning meal, and Ronan was looking worriedly at her. She just smiled and patted his leg. "'Tis all right, Ronan. All the women who have been through what I am going through had the same occurrences as me. Dinna worry."
But when they saw Fagen hurrying into the great hall, having left his post on the wall walk during guard duty, everyone turned to see what the matter was.
"Tuathal, with the MacNeill clan, just arrived with ten men, my laird. What do you want me to do about them?" Fagen asked.
Sorcha felt sick all over again, but it wasn't because of the bairn growing in her belly this time.
Ronan glanced at her, took her hand in his and squeezed, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. To Fagen, he said, "Ensure they are fully unarmed and they may join us."
"Aye."
Fagen hurried off.
"Do you want me to go also?" Ward asked.
"Aye, brother. Make sure they are truly disarmed."
"Aye." Ward stalked off.
"Dinna fash, lass. They canna do anything about your being here. Mayhap they have brought you a dowry."
"Nay. My sister's husband wouldn't pay anyone to marry me, nor would my uncle."
"Then mayhap word of an alliance."
Her heart pounding with fret, she hoped that was all the matter. When the men appeared at the entryway, Laird MacNeill's advisor, Tuathal, stood out. His dark eyes quickly searched for her and she said his name under her breath. She couldn't believe she would get to meet him here like this and was gladdened to see her good friend and tutor. She hoped he had only good news. She smiled a little at the way his hair was as shaggy as before. She swore he would never cut it, making him appear gruffer than he was, though he could be brusque. Even with her, when he taught her how to use a dirk.
"Is he a good man or bad?" Ronan said sitting taller in his chair as if he planned to take the man on.
"He is good. After the meal, I would like a word with him. To learn of my sister and my niece and nephews."
"As you wish, my lady wife."
The men were seated at a lower table where some of the Daziel clan members moved to make room for them. Sorcha rested her hand on Ronan's arm, and he looked down at her. "Would it be too inappropriate to ask him to sit next to me? On the other side? So that I may ask him about my family while we are eating?"
Ronan smiled at her. "Nay, lass," he said with such tenderness, she had to quickly blink back tears.
Ronan motioned and said to Ward, "Would you have Tuathal come and sit beside Sorcha?"
Ward nodded. "Aye, most certainly." He hurried off and spoke to the man, who smiled at her, then joined her.
"Are they all right? My sister and her children, and our nephew, Niall?"
Tuathal nodded. "Aye, my lady. I have learned you have wed Laird Daziel. Are you well?"
She smiled broadly. "Aye. Tell my sister she will have a niece of her own come spring."
Tuathal's jaw dropped slightly, then he smiled. "Aye. That will give me the greatest pleasure."
"Is my sister truly all right?" Sorcha couldn't help worrying about her. But Akira had said she was all right with her husband's drinking and philandering ways as long as she had her children and Sorcha in her life. And then Sorcha was gone.
"Aye, my lady. Someday, his lairdship will see the error of his ways. But your sister will be pleased to know about her new…niece."
Ronan shook his head. All along, Sorcha had been saying their bairn would be a lassie. But he knew that she couldn't really know that. What concerned him still was the reason for Tuathal's business here.
"You are here because of…?" Ronan asked, not wanting to interrupt the news, but he really had to know.
"Laird MacNeill doesna know I am here," Tuathal said. "I canna say the real reason, as I willna speak against my kin."
"He doesna wish an alliance?" Ronan asked.
Tuathal shook his head. He sighed then. "I know you wish to see your sister, my lady, but you canna. It would be too dangerous for you to return with the way his lairdship is."
"He doesna wish to pay a dowry," Ronan said, feeling that was the matter more than anything. Not that he had asked for one or had in any way expected one, but he assumed Parthanan MacNeill would be concerned that Ronan was seeking payment to take the lady as his wife as if she wasn't valuable for just who she was.
Tuathal didn't respond, but he saw the look in the man's dark eyes. Tuathal didn't have to tell Ronan the truth for him to know it was the case.
"'Tis what I expected and I am proud to have Sorcha as my wife." Ronan wrapped his arm around her and gave her an embrace. She smiled up at him with that heart-warming way she had that stole his very thoughts. He loved her.
"Mayhap, my lady, when your nephews are older, they might have a chance to travel this way," Tuathal said, sounding as hopeful as Sorcha looked.
Sorcha nodded, but Ronan could see she was fighting tears.
He would do anything he could to get them together again, short of putting any of them in a dangerous position.
"At least he has no intention of waging war against us." Ronan attempted to find a bright side to the situation.
"Aye." Tuathal stroked his beard. "Once we couldna find the lady and her horse, Laird MacNeill said she was dead and that was the end of the matter. I knew you had provided a refuge for the lass here. And I was grateful for it. When one of Laird Montgomery's messengers brought word concerning the lady, thank the heavens, Laird MacNeill was…indisposed. The messenger told him all about what had happened, though I didna believe half of
Indisposed? Deep in his cups, Ronan assumed from what had been said and what he'd witnessed himself some years ago.
"What was said?" Sorcha sounded furious.
Ronan smiled at her. He liked her much more when she was ready to fight someone than when she was dissolving in tears. Which had happened a few times since she learned she was with bairn. Thankfully, other women had been through the same emotional upheaval and said it was normal.
He rubbed her back gently to soothe her.
Tuathal cleared his throat. "The messenger said you tried to kill Laird Montgomery's daughter and—"
"She lied!"
"Aye, we all know that, my lady," Tuathal said, smiling. "It seems my training you to defend yourself came in handy."
This was the man who had trained her? Ronan had never even thought to ask, but he'd believed it was when she was much younger. He should have known the way she handled herself that a man had taught her when she was old enough to really learn how to use a dirk.
"She has been teaching all of our women, and our lads and lassies now." Ronan was proud of her. She was now in charge of the staff while Elspeth helped her and continued to be a sister to her, so eager for their bairn to be born, he felt as though Elspeth was treating the bairn as her own. Which meant he truly had to look into finding a husband for his dear sister.
Especially before she learned too many of Sorcha's ways and created problems with finding a husband for her. Not all men would appreciate a woman like her, who had such a mind of her own.
"So Laird MacNeill didn't know you were coming here," Ronan said.
Tuathal shook his head. "Nay, and 'tis best we leave it that way."
"You were a protector for Sorcha?"
"Not well enough, I fear. I was away on a mission and when I returned, I learned from a stable hand what had occurred. With the laird's permission, though I believe he was snoring when I asked, I left with the men to search for her. When I met up with you at the river, I prayed you had truly found her. Then I had the notion to speak with the clan bordering yours, having learned Laird Montgomery would be visiting you, and I hoped I could learn the truth." Tuathal smiled. "He wasna happy that you married the lass. But I am well-pleased."
"You can be assured I will take the best of care of her."
"And I will do the same for you." Sorcha said to Ronan.
He laughed.
"Not just any man would have been right for the lass. She seems to have found the right one in you," Tuathal said. "I congratulate you both."
Sorcha had quit eating and drinking, and Ronan took her hand and rubbed it. He knew she was thinking about her sister and the rest of her family, and before she could propose it, he said, "Is there any way that mayhap Lady Akira and her children could leave Craigly Castle on a journey nearby and we might…happen to meet them?"
Tuathal smiled. "I couldna suggest it, and it might not turn out as well as we plan, but I will do my best to make it happen."
"As soon as we can," Ronan said. He didn't want Sorcha traveling as the bairn grew in her belly.
"Aye. If you like, we can leave on the morrow."
"As my wife wishes," Ronan said. And he prayed he would not be putting her in harm's way when they crossed the MacNeill lands.
"We will have to get close to Craigly Castle," Tuathal warned. "The children are too young to travel very far."
"If I could but see Akira, I would be happy. The children, too, aye, but if the journey would be too difficult for them…"
"We will see," Tuathal assured her, but he didn't sound certain that their plan would succeed.
***
"You didna tell me he was watching out for you, lass," Ronan said as he helped his wife out of her clothes, marveling at her lovely breasts, and other remarkable features before he led her to the bed. He quickly stripped off his clothes and joined her, shutting the bed curtains tight.
"I didna know that the MacNeill you had met and who handed over my horse was Tuathal. I should have known. Oh, Ronan, do you think we will really see them?"
"We will make every effort to do so." He kissed her mouth then, his hand gently caressing her breast as he tasted the honeyed mead on her lips. At least, after they had agreed to the trip, she had managed to eat some.
He was happy to take her to see her kin, but still worried Laird MacNeill may hear of it and punish Akira and the children, or even fight Ronan and his kin. The man was not one to be trusted.
He had even worried about Tuathal. What if he had hoped that Ronan would want to appease his wife and take her there, but the plan would turn afoul when Laird MacNeill and his men received word of their presence and then a battle could very well ensue.
Then, realizing Sorcha was studying his face, he shoved the concern from his thoughts and kissed his bonny wife thoroughly, loving the way she always responded with just as much ardor.
His hand slipped into her silky hair as he kissed her forehead, then her nose, making her smile, her cheeks, her throat.
She ran her fingers through his hair as he moved his mouth to her breast and licked and suckled the nipple. He slid his hand down her flat belly and lower still until he was caressing that place that made her moan and writhe at his touch. He loved how responsive she always was as he stroked her harder, adjusting his touch as she squeezed his arms or loosened her grip. He'd learned just what she loved and wanted more of, just by watching her reactions. Like now.
Sorcha arched into Ronan's touch, her lips parted as she breathed through the sensations overwhelming her, loving how every time felt so different, yet pleasingly gave her the same kind of pleasure. She loved him for being as sensitive as he was to her feelings, both with regards to their lovemaking and with seeing her sister and her family.
For now, she was swept up in the feel of him, the heavenly way he touched her and caressed her, stroking her needs until she felt the world spinning beneath her. She gloried in the feel of this wondrous sensation. Feeling the warmth and the wetness between her legs, she was ready for him and urged him in. Eager to please her, he pushed his rigid staff inside her and thrust deep.
She loved this connection between them, the love they shared. He began to kiss her again, inserting his tongue in her mouth, and she sucked on it, making him groan. She lifted her legs to encircle him, to claim him and he pumped into her ever faster. She thought maybe she was making him uncomfortable and began to unwrap her legs from his body, but he quickly reached down and urged her to wrap her legs around him again.
Despite the cool air in the chamber, she was flushed with heat as his staff filled her with more heat. But she wasn't done. Almost. There. A wave of new pleasure crested, and she cried out in exaltation, "Oh, aye, Ronan, aye."
He smiled against her mouth as he kissed her again, not separating from her at the first, then finally he did. And pulled her into his warm embrace.
"If you think it would be unsafe for your men or you, or for my sister and her children, we dinna have to do this on the morrow," she said softly against his chest.
He stroked her hair like he always did, as if he couldn't get enough of touching her before they slept. "Nay, lass. We will make the effort if 'tis your wish."
"I dinna want anyone injured or killed if we do this."
"We will go, and if it appears it willna work, we will return home. Sleep now, lass. You dinna get enough sleep now as it is. You need to be well-rested for the morrow."
But sleep wouldn't come for the longest time and just when it seemed she had drifted off, Ronan was waking her up.
"Are you ready?"
She wanted to groan she was so tired. "Aye," she said, and hurried to slip out of bed.
Elspeth wanted to come along, but Ronan said no. The travel could be dangerous, and he didn't want his sister involved when it was Sorcha who desired so to see her family.
It took them several days, the weather cold and gray and wet the whole time. They rested often as he worried about Sorcha. She wore dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep, but at least she was eating well.
She'd been worried, but the closer she got to Craigly Castle, the more eager she was to press forward.
Tuathal said, "I will ride ahead with two of my men, if you will wait here with the lass. I will endeavor to slip the lady and her children out of the castle for a visit to the loch for a few hours."
Ronan had the tent set up so that Sorcha could rest and a fire made while some of the men hunted grouse. Once they were cooking the fowl, he joined Sorcha in the tent. She was sound asleep, buried in furs, and he thought how truly beautiful she was.
He rejoined his men by the campfire, some of the MacNeill men talking with his men about battles past as if they had been friends forever.
It was getting to be nightfall when they heard riders and the men rose to their feet, hands on the hilts of their swords. Tuathal rode into the camp. "You must pack up at once. See the trees beyond the loch? Go there and wait."
"Who is coming?" Ronan asked as he motioned for Alban to organize the men.
"Laird MacNeill and some of his men. But he willna locate you. On the morrow, I will bring Lady Akira to see your lady wife. We might not be able to bring the children."
"Aye. Sorcha will understand."
Tuathal helped the men get ready while Ronan woke his still sleeping wife, and he knew then she had to be exhausted or she would not have slept through Tuathal's arrival.
"What is wrong?" she asked, and he hated the worry in her voice.
"We will go to the forest and wait for your sister." He helped her onto her horse, and mounted his own. "But it will be on the morrow."
That night, they watched from the forest as they saw torches, ten or so of them move about where they'd had their campfire. But then the torches moved off in the direction of Craigly Castle, and he sighed with a bit of relief. When he saw Sorcha sitting in front of the tent, her blanket wrapped around her, he noticed she also had her dirk readied. He smiled and shook his head, then joined her.
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