Malcolm waited for them to be out of earshot. “How is it the laird is out and without escort?”
Clyde McLeod looked over his shoulder toward his keep. He was soaked but it didn’t diminish the air of power that emanated from him. He remained straight upon his steed. “When fortifying for battle, they do not expect the laird to sneak away. Much less alone.”
“Ye are taking a great chance in thinking I will not strike ye down.” Malcolm met the man’s gaze directly. “We are enemies, after all.”
“Aye, we are. I do not fear death. I am confident my son Alec will make a good laird when I die.”
There were so many questions Malcolm wanted to ask. The man and his father had been friends at one time. In their youth, they had often competed in the games. “What do ye wish to say to me?”
Once again, the laird looked over his shoulder. “We were misinformed by one of yer own. Aiden Ross said ye were masking as messengers to catch us unaware and charge my keep. We now know it was not true. I have no proof of this other than my word. I did not give orders for yer party to be attacked.”
He believed the man. “Yer younger son did.”
“I take responsibility.”
At least now it made sense since they’d requested a truce to begin with. “Where is my cousin now?”
“Alec searches for him. He has taken the lass. The one he cares for.”
“What of my brother, Tristan. Do ye have him captive?”
“Nay. My warriors did not bring anyone. One did say he saw him having fallen in the forest. He was not sure if yer brother remained alive.”
It was not possible that Tristan was dead. Why was he gone? If an animal had dragged him away, there would be tracks. Tristan was alive. The question was where.
“I cannot promise a truce,” Malcolm admitted. “Not fully. Yer son killed my da. That cannot go unpunished.”
“Tis understandable. My son acted without thought. There is naught I can do about it now.”
“Ye will not do what is right because he is yer son.”
Laird McLeod nodded. “And one day when ye have bairns of yer own, ye will understand.”
It was as if the rain poured harder and Malcolm had enough of it. “A temporary truce. But if any McLeod so much as steps over into our land, it will be over.”
“I accept,” Clyde McLeod said without hesitation. “And Malcolm,” he said as he reached for Malcolm’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Ye will be a great laird to yer people one day. Think of them first, always.”
The words, much like those his father had once spoken, made Malcolm clench his jaw. Laird McLeod did not consider him a good laird. Not at the moment. Not that he should care what his enemy thought.
He could only nod. “Be with care upon yer return. My brother and his warriors approach from the east. I will send a scout to stop them. Hopefully, he will reach them in time.”
“I thank ye.” McLeod turned away and urged his mount to a gallop, making Malcolm wonder how the man could travel so fast when the rain made it hard to see. He remembered something his father once told him and his lips curved. Clyde and his father had competed blindfolded to a specific destination. It honed their skills, but it was difficult. According to his father, Clyde usually won.
He returned to his warriors. “That was Laird McLeod. We have agreed to a temporary truce. Two of ye go and find Kieran. Tell him to return to the keep at once. Ten remain with me to go in search of Tristan. The rest of ye, go home.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The rain continued without ceasing and Elspeth hated that she could not see through it as she peered out the window.
What was happening now? Were Malcolm and his men battling out there, rain, mud and blood mixing under their feet?
“Why are ye in here?” Verity asked from the bed. She lifted a hand as if to send her away, but it fell back onto the bed limply.
“Yer mother is resting. Ye have been ill since yesterday.” Elspeth neared with a cup of water and lifted Verity’s head. “Drink.”
The woman drank greedily, gulping every last drop. Her round face was wet with perspiration, hair sticking to it. “How do ye feel?”
“Weak and unable to stay awake.”
There was a strange yellow tone to her skin. Although Elspeth had noticed it before, now it was starkly apparent. Whatever ailed her was not something Elspeth knew how to cure. If only she could once again see her tutor. He would know what to do. But she’d not seen him in a very long time. It was as if he disappeared into thin air. She could not even find the small cottage he’d lived in.
Mentally inventorying each herb in the drying building, Elspeth did her best to remember her lessons. Once in passing, he had mentioned yellowing of the skin. She would have to look to her sketches to find which herb was best.
“I will return shortly.”
Milk thistle. It was hard to find. Elspeth looked at the drawing and racked her brain trying to remember if she had some at her parents’ home. She’d been so overtaken by everything that she’d not thought of them as of late. Perhaps someone could be sent to go and fetch it.
Putting her notes down, Elspeth left the chamber she shared with Malcolm and hurried down the stairwell.
Thankfully, the rain was finally slowing. She slowed upon entering the great room where Gregor Ross sat at a table with ledgers. He looked up, his gaze warm. “Tis too dreary to work in my rooms. I prefer here where there is a bit of noise at least.”
“Is it possible to send someone to my village? To my home? I require milk thistle to give to Verity. She is quite ill.”
His brow lowered. “So her mother said.” He stood. “Come, let us go seek a young lad who can ride swiftly.”
Soon, they found an eager volunteer. The lad, much too young to fight, was eager to prove himself.
“Make sure they find the right herbs. If they’re not sure, then bring as many as ye can.” Elspeth held out a sack. “There are more sacks inside, bring what ye can. Thank ye.”
The lad nodded and hurried to find a horse.
“Will he be safe? I hope no harm will come to him.”
Gregor nodded his head. “Warriors are too busy at the moment to bother with him.”
Holding her face up to the light drizzle, Elspeth was glad that it had slowed. She mentally pictured Malcolm returning to her. To their bed and into her arms. She concentrated on the closed gates.
When Gregor placed a hand on her shoulder, she met his gaze. “Do not worry, he will return. I am hopeful the battle did not take place because of the rain.”
“I pray ye’re are right.”
Hours later, Elspeth could barely remain awake. In the sitting room with her, Ceilidh held mending on her lap, the needle long forgotten, a soft smile on her lips.
“When will ye tell me what happened today to have ye in such good spirits?”
Her friend sighed. “Ian, he and I…we kissed.”
Elspeth couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ye did more than that by yer expression.”
Her friend attempted at a serious expression, but failed when her lips curved. “Must I remind ye that he remains injured? We will take our time and allow for time to get to know one another.”
“A courtship then? Wonderful.” Elspeth would have wished for the same with Malcolm although she tried to picture it and failed. He was much too direct and distant for such dalliances.
Her lips curved. “I am getting to know my husband more every day. I hope he returns soon.” She yawned and stood. “I am going to check on Verity once more and retire.”
Although Verity remained very ill, her coloring was improving. Elspeth woke her and, once again, made her drink from the cooled milk thistle tea.
Lady Ross watched from a chair, her gaze moving from Verity to Elspeth. “Thank ye for helping her.”
She and Malcolm’s mother would never be close, but at least now, hopefully the woman would be a bit kinder. “She will recover. I am sure of it.”
Moments
later, in her and Malcolm’s bedchamber, Elspeth slid between the bedding and instantly lost any interest in sleep. What was Malcolm enduring at the moment? Was he sleeping in the wet forest? Could it be he was injured and unable to return?
Just as she was about to slip from the bed and go to the window, the door opened.
She watched in silence as her husband went to the washbasin and, dipping his hands into the water, washed his face and hands. Then after undressing, he took a cloth, dipped it into the water and ran it over his body.
The candlelight did an exemplary job of highlighting the dips and valleys of his perfect body. Elspeth could stand it no more and she slipped from the bed. “Are ye injured?” She went to him.
“Check for yerself,” Malcolm invited, standing perfectly still.
Panic set in and she ran her hands from his shoulders to his chest and then rounded him and did the same to his back. “Where does it hurt?”
“Here.” He took her hand and placed it over his erection. “It’s excruciating.”
“Malcolm!” Elspeth drew her hand back. “I am being serious.”
With quick motions, he brought her against his body and took her mouth with greed.
“I missed ye, Wife.” There was a hunger in his voice that was followed by a hard kiss. He tore her chemise off and lowered her down to the floor onto the rug. “I want to have ye now.”
She acceded, taking his sex in hand and guiding it to her entrance. “Then take me.”
With a hard thrust, he drove into her and let out grunt. His hips moved slowly at first in a gentle rhythm, sliding in an out of her with precise movements.
“More,” Elspeth gasped, needing him to move faster and sink deeper. “More.”
When she attempted to take his hips, Malcolm took both of her hands and pulled them up over her head. “What are ye feeling, sweet wife?” He moved slower. “Tell me.”
“Desperation,” Elspeth gasped out the word. “Need. Please…”
He covered her mouth, silencing her pleading and continued the slow, sweet assault. Each time seemed to take longer until she writhed beneath him, struggling to free her hands and have him the way she wanted.
He chuckled in her ear, releasing her hands only to groan when she managed to get free from under him and prod him onto his back.
Malcolm’s darkened eyes rounded when she straddled him. “My way,” she demanded.
With one hand she held him down and with the other took his erection. He was thick, hard and moist. The skin felt silky as she stroked him once and then again, enjoying the feeling of control.
Elspeth was fully aware she only did what he allowed, but that he gave himself so completely. The control gave her a feeling of power.
Lifting her hips, she once again guided the hard member to her core and lowered until he filled her completely.
This would not be slow, not any longer. Elspeth rocked her hips, rising and falling back atop her husband with hard, sharp movements. Malcolm matched her drives by lifting his hips and thrusting up until she could not take it any longer.
Skin slapped together as the pace became frantic, the movements no longer rhythmic or controlled.
“Ah!” A hard climax sent Elspeth spiraling, gasping, and screaming as she became lost in a sweet abyss. In the fog of release, she knew Malcolm had rolled her onto her back and lifted her hips so that he could continue taking her body. Every time he drove in, her body trembled in response.
Finally, he shuddered and cried out as he spilled his seed. When he collapsed over her, they both fought to breathe, their wet bodies remaining joined.
“Ye came back to me,” Elspeth whispered between harsh breaths.
“I promised I would,” Malcolm lifted just enough to meet her gaze. “Ye would make me crawl back if I had to.”
She stroked this hair and kissed him. “Is the battle over?”
“There is a temporary truce.” Malcolm rolled to his back and pulled her to lay on his chest. “Tis not over, but for now I want to concentrate on finding Tristan.”
He slid a hand lazily down her side. “Winter will be here soon. The people need a respite.”
Elspeth let out a long sigh. “Spoken like a true laird.” She placed a trail of kisses across his chest. “What do ye think happened to Tristan? He must be near where the battle took place.”
“Someone said they saw a bearded man in the forest. Perhaps the man took him in. We are searching for him.”
“Could it have been a monk?” Elspeth sat up. “I know a monk who lives in the forest, but he lived closer to my village. Perhaps it is the same man.”
“Perhaps,” Malcolm replied and yawned. “Should we go to bed, Wife? I must leave right after breaking my fast in the morn.” He lifted up to rest his upper half on his elbow.
“There is something I must tell ye,” Elspeth said. “Yer sister, she is very ill.”
“Verity?” Malcolm asked as if he had another.
“Aye.”
“She has always been of a strong disposition.” He lay back down onto the rug. “What happened to her?”
Elspeth lifted up and held out a hand. “Come to bed, I will tell ye.”
As she finished telling him about Verity, they began to speak of Ian and Ceilidh. “Ye are aware, Ian should remain in the guard. He only has one arm, but he can still fight. He is right handed.”
Malcolm pressed a kiss to her temple and let out a long breath. “I will speak to Ian once things settle. I wonder if it was like this between my mother and father. How the lady of the home brings order and keeps her husband informed. Tis one of the many reasons I need ye.”
Once again, he repeated the words. Elspeth met his gaze. “Tis not only ye, Malcolm. Today, I realized how much I need ye as well.”
Lips curving, he shook his head. “Do ye realize what I mean when I say it?”
Elspeth frowned. “Of course. Ye require my presence to set ye right. To feel as if all is well here in yer home.”
“Aye, that is part of it. The other part is different. When I saw ye come to the battlefield that day and care for Ian, ye stood up to me. Like a warrior who could easily beat me in battle, ye did not do as I demanded.”
She wasn’t sure what to say, so she remained silent.
“Ye were exactly what I needed in that moment and what I need every day. A beacon of peace and rest.”
“Rest?” She reached between his legs and his sex reacted to her touch. “I would not expect too much repose.”
“Tis rest for my mind and body at once,” he replied and then closed his eyes when she began to stroke him.
“Tell me, Husband, what will we do now?”
Malcolm’s eyes opened, his lips parted and his breathing caught when she traced the tip of his erection with her finger.
“For now, we wait to see what tomorrow brings.”
When he rolled over her, Elspeth wondered how many tomorrows would come. And then she gasped upon being taken completely.
It was so different waking up with his wife tucked against his side. Malcolm didn’t want to move and disturb her. Every morning since marrying her was the same. He lingered in bed, arriving late for first meal and enduring his brother’s knowing looks.
Yes, he had many duties as laird and was expected to be up early and ready to deal with all the preparations for the upcoming winter season.
Malcolm let out a breath thinking about Tristan. There was a ravine near the place where they’d been attacked. Warriors had gone down and found no trace. And yet, he had a feeling the only reason Tristan had not been found initially was because he’d fallen and remained hidden.
If the men who’d been searching through the night had not found Tristan yet, Malcolm would return that day and continue the search. He would not allow winter to set without his brother being accounted for.
He placed a kiss on Elspeth’s brow and slipped out of the bed. After donning clothing, he hurried down the stairs and found that only his uncle was at the high boa
rd.
“Where is Kieran?”’
“He didn’t return last night. I heard he joined the search for Tristan.”
“Aye, I will go as well as soon as we discuss what to do about the people. It is safe for those who have homes to return. Organize with the men and ensure homes are built in the nearest village for those that require one. If the rest insist on returning elsewhere, they can, but I am not sure we have time to help them rebuild.”
“I will meet with Ruari to discuss how to divide our supplies and the workforce. Do not worry. Ye should concentrate on finding yer brother,” his uncle said.
Malcolm met his uncle’s gaze. “What of Aiden? Do ye have any thoughts as to where he is?”
His uncle shook his head. “Nay. He is either gone to avoid the wrath of two lairds, or dead by a McLeod’s hand. Either way, he is no longer welcome to return. If he does, I will not begrudge ye whatever punishment ye see fit.”
It was interesting that the only thing Malcolm felt for his cousin was pity. No matter what happened to Aiden, at the moment, in Malcolm’s opinion, being ostracized from one’s clan was the worst punishment.
Just then, Elspeth appeared. She glided down the stairs and walked over to where he sat. There was a poise about her that came naturally. Although born humble, there was nothing lowly about his wife. From the moment he’d met her, she’d exuded strength of character.
When she lowered to sit next to him, she nudged his shoulder with hers and gave him a playful smirk. “Ye should have woken me.”
“I wanted ye to rest.”
“I have much to do today. Once I have eaten, I will check on the wounded and on Verity.” She continued speaking and he was glad she’d found her place there at Ross Keep. It was her home now and Malcolm could not imagine life without the willful woman.
A plate of food was slid in front of him and his cup filled. Malcolm scanned the great room, noting guards had begun trickling in for first meal. At another table, a family sat eating and speaking in low tones. A baby toddled into the room and his mother rushed in after him, looking up to the high board. Malcolm smiled and she visibly relaxed. “How fare ye, Laird?” she asked, lifting the baby to her hip.
The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection Page 125
