Catherine is chatting with the kids as she walks along the road. The soldiers stay where they are, but they dismount and cluster together, talking amongst themselves. I turn away as Catherine and Maggie pass me − not that I needed to do that since their attention is fixed on the children. Walking on the small road that runs parallel to the one she’s on, I follow the sound of the children − which isn’t difficult to do.
I walk swiftly to the end of the row of buildings and turn the corner, stopping at the corner and peeking around again. I see Catherine step into a large, squat building a little way down from where I am. The soldiers are still at the far end of the village, apparently unconcerned and not feeling the need to hover near her. Or more likely, having been ordered by Catherine to stay where they were. I see them unloading baskets of bread and food, handing them to some of the village elders who will see about parceling them out.
A small grin on my face, I casually stroll across the road like I belong there and turn the corner, walking along behind the buildings. I stop at the one Catherine disappeared into and take up a position next to one of the two narrow windows in the rear wall. Thankfully the day, though overcast, isn’t so cold they needed to bolt the shutters from inside to guard against the chill.
With the shutters open, I can hear Catherine talking to somebody inside. She is apparently tending to their wounds and offering words of comfort. I hear nothing but pure compassion in her voice that brings a smile to my face. The care she gives to these people warms my heart and reinforces my belief that she’s a genuinely good person with a good heart. She’s not here trying to tally points to get her into heaven or to falsely win the affection of the people. She’s here because she truly believes in doing good works.
Not wanting to interrupt, I wait − for a couple of hours as it turns out − for the flow of people to stop. She’s seen most of the children in the village, treating a variety of minor ailments and injuries. She is just saying goodbye to an older woman with a promise to send the physician from Caldryn House to see to her for an ailment she was unable to treat on her own.
I take that moment to slip around the building and step into her makeshift hospital, gently closing the door behind me and slip the brat down off my head. Catherine’s back is to me when I walk in, but when she hears me, she turns, a smile on her face. But when she sees me, the smile fades − she was clearly expecting somebody else. Her eyes widen, and her face blanches as she stares at me, speechless for a moment. But she gives herself a small shake and comes back to her senses, putting her hand on her hips, giving me a very cross look.
“Have you gone mad?” she gasps. “What are you doing here?”
“Would you believe me if I said I happened to be in the area?”
She purses her lips. “No, I would not,” she grimaces. “But however you got here, you need to get out of here.”
“I can’t do that. Not until we speak.”
“Malcolm, my uncle knows about us. He cannot prove it yet, but he knows,” she hisses. “And he’s watching me. If he sees us −”
I turn around, looking about the small room theatrically before turning back to her, an expression of faux-concern on my face.
“Is he hiding beneath that table?” I ask. “Or maybe in the hearth, hiding among the flames?”
“Do not mock me, Malcolm. This is extremely serious,” she replies, her voice stern. “If he sees us together, he will use it as a pretext to claim the treaty you signed with my father is forfeit − as will be your life.”
It’s about what I expected to hear. With Duke Seely gone, I have no doubts her uncle is trying to find ways to circumvent the treaty or nullify it outright. The fact that Duke Seely has agreed to peace between our people can’t be sitting well with him.
“Those soldiers out there are not mine, Malcolm,” she cautions. “They serve my uncle. They watch me for him, and if they report back to him that I was with you…”
Her voice trails off, the clear threat hanging in the air between us. I know she’s worried, but I’m not. I’ve waited weeks to see her, and I’m not going to let this opportunity pass. Whether for the good or the bad, Catherine and I have some things between us that need to be sorted.
I open my mouth to reply, but the door opens suddenly, and I spin, my hand near the dagger in my belt, expecting to see one of her soldiers. Instead, I find myself staring into the startled face of Catherine’s handmaiden Maggie − her expression very much the same as Catherine’s when she first saw me in her hospital.
“Oh, I − umm − I didn’t know you had company, Catherine,” she stammers.
“That is alright, Maggie,” Catherine says, trying to calm the tremor in her voice. “He was just leaving.”
I turn back to Catherine and give her a grin. “Was I?”
“Yes, you most definitely were,” she says. “Unless you want those six large men with big swords to run you through.”
“Actually, I think it’s high time the two of you spoke,” Maggie asserts.
Catherine’s mouth falls open, a scandalized expression on her face that is so comical, it makes me laugh out loud.
“Maggie!” she exclaims.
“I like her,” I say.
Maggie stands with her hands on her hips, glaring at me. “You, shut it,” she says then turns to Catherine. “And you − you have been going on and on about this one for weeks now. I’ve hardly been able to get you to shut up about him.”
“That is simply not true,” Catherine replies, her cheeks flushing with color, telling me it is very much true.
“Who do you think you’re kidding?” Maggie goes on. “It’s been Malcolm this and Malcolm that since your father went south. Except for the times when you’ve been cursin’ up a blue streak about your uncle, that is.”
I turn to Maggie, a look of feigned surprise on my face. “What is this you say? Catherine cursing up a blue streak?” I ask. “Why, that’s not very proper or ladylike. You’ve got to be mistaken.”
“The hell I am. And bollocks on what’s proper,” she spits. “And I told you to shut it.”
I close my mouth but can’t keep the grin off my face. Maggie, despite being a bit prickly − as the Irish tend to be − is likeable. I can see the familiarity along with a great and genuine affection between the two women and get the idea they’ve known each other for a very long time.
“The both of you, shut it,” Catherine commands. “Malcolm cannot be here. You must know what will happen if my uncle finds out, Maggie.”
“Aye, I do,” she replies. “Which is why we can’t let those cretins out there find out, eh?”
“Maggie, I −”
She shakes her head firmly. “I love you Catherine, but shut up and listen to me for a moment,” she says. “Your feelings for Malcolm are clear to me. And the fact that he’s here, knowing what it might cost him, proves his feelings for you. It’s time you two talk about it and get this situation between you sorted.”
“And how do you propose we get past my uncle’s soldiers?” Catherine says.
She shrugs. “There’s a chill in the air,” she says. “Those men could probably do with a bowl of hot stew and maybe some warm wine to wash it down. Just leave it to me.”
“Maggie, I −”
“I don’t want to hear no more of it, Catherine,” she cuts her off. “Now go. You two get yourselves sorted already.”
Without waiting for another reply, Maggie turns and heads out of the building. I peer around the door and see her speaking with an older woman who is smiling and nodding to her. I turn back to Catherine and give her a smile.
“Well, she’s opening a window for us,” I tell her.
Her expression is reticent, and she gnaws on her bottom lip. I can’t tell whether she’s hesitant because she’s genuinely afraid for me or if she simply doesn’t want to be alone with me. It’s a thought that sends a lance of pain tearing through me but one I have to confront.
“If you don’t want to go, that’s fine. Yo
u can tell me that, Catherine,” I tell her. “If you’re done with me, then just say so.”
She shakes her head almost immediately. “It’s not that,” she replies. “It’s not that at all. I just don’t want to see you hurt. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I can take care of myself,” I assert. “I don’t need you to protect me.”
She sighs and gives me a small smile. “I suppose not.”
It’s a small smile, but it’s a start. A crack in the wall of ice that stands high and imposing between us.
“So, can we get out of here for a while?” I ask. “I would hate to waste the brilliant distraction Maggie is setting up for us.”
Her laughter is soft, but it’s another crack in that wall, and her smile comes a bit easier.
“Fine,” she tells me. “Let’s see if we can sneak out of here without you having your head taken off your shoulders.”
“You really are a ray of sunshine,” I quip. “So bright and cheery.”
Shifting the pack on my shoulders, I peek around the door, and seeing that the soldiers are already engaged with Maggie, who is handing out mugs of warm ale and bowls of stew, I see our chance. I take Catherine by the hand and lead her out of the small house. We slip around the side and walk swiftly to the woods behind the village and find an old deer path. We make our way through the murky shadows and thick brush, neither of us speaking.
After a short hike through the woods, we emerge from the trees and onto the shore of a small loch. The surface is perfectly still and reflects the dull gray of the sky overhead. All around us, birds call from the high boughs of the trees, filling the air with their music. A fine mist is sprinkling down overhead − it’s not bad, but the rolling rumble of thunder in the distance promises the land is going to be lashed by rain before the night is through.
I set the pack down, resting it against the thick trunk of a tree and turn to Catherine. A small smile touches her lips, and her cheeks flush with warmth. I slip my brat off my shoulders and spread it over hers, pulling it up over her head to keep the rain out of her hair. She pulls it tight around her and smiles.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
We find a fallen tree near the edge of the forest and take a seat. The thick web of branches overhead keeps most of the mist that’s falling off our heads. The feel of her pressed so close to me, the heat radiating off her is comforting. I want to wrap my arm around her shoulder and pull her close, but I don’t think we’re quite to that point yet. She’s still a bit stiff and uncertain.
“It is not that I did not want to see you, Malcolm,” she breaks the silence between us. “I just know that my uncle −”
“You said that already,” I reply, my voice firm. “But like I said, I don’t need you to protect me.”
“Well, I am protecting myself as well,” she continues. “If my uncle found out about us, I would not get out of it unscathed. I might not have my head taken off, but I would surely suffer a long and lasting torment.”
That much I understand, and I suppose it’s something I hadn’t considered before − what might become of her if we were found out. I never really thought about the possibility that she might be punished as a result of our trysts. It’s selfish of me. But I can’t see the bigger picture much less think coherently where Catherine is concerned. When it comes to Catherine, all I seem capable of doing is feeling.
“I wanted to see you, Malcolm,” she tells me. “I truly did. I just…”
She doesn’t finish her statement, but I know what she was going to say. I believe her when she says she wanted to see me. But I also believe her when she says there could be dire repercussions for the both of us. Which leaves us in a tough spot. But I’m not willing to just give her up because her uncle might find out.
“Catherine, I have these feelings for you. Deep and profound feelings,” I tell her. “I’m not sure what to do with them, but I’m sure as hell not willing to let you go out of fear.”
She sighs and slumps to the side, her body pressed to mine. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and pull her close, relishing the feel of her warmth. I breathe in her sweet aroma, which brings a smile to my lips. It conjures memories of our time together − time alone when we didn’t have to worry about her family.
Of course, maybe I should have been considering her family all along. Maybe she should have. Maybe we should have foreseen this before we ever became intimate. But we didn’t. And that’s because everything fell together so perfectly between us. Everything between us felt − right. Natural. Like two pieces of one piece fitting together.
She looks up at me with her wide eyes, sparkling like emeralds, and I feel my heart quicken. Without stopping to think, I lean down and press my lips to hers. Her body tenses, and she is stiff at first, but then she melts against me. Her lips part, and I feel a powerful jolt as her tongue dashes against mine.
As we kiss, the heat between us grows, and I feel the familiar stirring between my legs as my cock stiffens. I know I should stop. I should pull back. I shouldn’t let this go any further. But I can’t stop myself − and Catherine doesn’t seem inclined to stop me either.
We cling to each other, our hands roaming each other’s bodies. I slip the brat off her shoulders, letting it fall over the fallen tree trunk. I kiss her neck and slide my hands up, cupping her breasts through the fabric of her dress. I circle my thumbs over her nipples, hard and straining against the fabric, and swallow her moan in my mouth.
I get to my feet, my cock stiffening like iron. Grabbing her by the hand, I pull her up and then pull her hand down, making her grip my staff. She takes hold of my staff, her delicate hand encircling me and squeezes tight, drawing a gasp from my throat. She pumps her hand up and down my length, filling me with a white-hot fire. Catherine plants a line of kisses up my neck, making me shudder with the feeling of her tongue on my skin.
“We do not have much time,” she whispers in my ear. “They will be wondering after me soon.”
I pull my tunic off over my head and drop it atop my brat. I make quick work of Catherine’s dress, sliding it off her and throwing it on the rest of the pile of clothing. I lean forward, my mouth finding her breasts. She moans as I knead and suckle on those soft mounds of supple flesh.
Catherine runs her hands through my hair, pulling on it and moaning as I lick and gently bite her nipples. My cock is rigid, my body begging for release, and the sultry look in Catherine’s eyes only fuels the flames burning inside of me. I turn her around, and she braces herself on the fallen trunk on her arms, bending over slightly at the waist. She flips her long, red locks and looks over her shoulder at me.
I step forward, putting my hands on the soft alabaster-colored flesh of her arse and give it a firm squeeze. Her tender flesh in my hands heightens my arousal, and I plunge my staff deep into her warm, wet core. Catherine’s eyes widen, and a soft moan passes her lips. Her eyes roll back in her head as I start moving inside of her. The burst of sensation as my thick shaft slides along her soft inner walls makes me groan with pleasure.
Putting my arms down on either side of her, bracing myself on the thick tree trunk, I lean closer to her. I keep rolling my hips, driving my staff into her tight, slick flower harder and faster. I kiss her back and nip at her neck with my teeth. Catherine pushes herself back against me, taking me deeper into her and shudders wildly, a soft squeak coming out of her.
I press my head against her back, my body tightening as she squeezes my cock with her muscles, making herself tighter around me. A deep, rumbling moan escapes me as I thrust my staff into her. Catherine turns her head, and her mouth finds mine, our tongues swirl together, and I feel my cock swelling inside of her.
I wish I could draw this out and take my time with her − I don’t know when the next time I’ll get to savor her body will be. But I know time is short. I know she can’t afford to be gone too long. But still − I can’t get enough of being inside of her.
I step back and turn her around. Catherine�
��s eyes are wide and filled with longing. I pick her up and set her down on the trunk, parting her thighs as I step forward. Our mouths crash together as I drive my manhood back into her.
Catherine stutters and gasps as I push myself as deep into her as I can go. She grips my upper arm, her nails digging into my flesh as I start to pound myself into her. Catherine cries out sharply as I fill her up and pump my cock into her wetness. I kiss her neck, her breasts, and her mouth as I move inside of her.
She squirms and writhes, and I’m half afraid that she’s going to wiggle right off the trunk. I slide my hands down her back and cup her arse with both hands. I squeeze her soft skin and give her a sharp whack, drawing a loud yelp from her. It’s followed by a giggle and a wicked smile, her cheeks flushing.
I thrust my staff harder, and she gasps. Catherine’s entire body tenses, and she throws her head back, letting out a cry that reverberates through the trees around us. She trembles, and her breath comes in short, ragged bursts. Her grip on my arms tightens, and her eyes roll back in her head.
Slowly, she seems to come back to herself, and the wavering smile on her face is one of absolute ecstasy. Her eyes find mine, and she holds my gaze. Catherine tightens her grip on my arms as I continue to pierce her molten core. I feel the pressure building up inside of me, and my staff begins to throb.
Catherine kisses me hard, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. My breath is ragged, and my heart stutters as I feel my body tightening. Feeling myself reaching my crescendo, my strokes are long and slow as I try to fend off the eruption I know is coming. Just a little bit longer. That’s all I want. I want a few more moments inside of her, wrapped in a bright, warm light of bliss.
The Highlander's Claim (Highland Romance) Page 21
