The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection

by Kathryn Le Veque

  He walked Keely to the end of the bed, buried his face in her hair, and gathered her breasts in his hands. “Bend over the bed for me, lass. Spread those luscious legs for me.”

  Keely remained ever responsive and eager to please.

  Alex positioned himself at her entrance, running his fingers down her back. Then he fanned her dark tresses out and the sweet smell of heather filled the air. Testing her readiness, he gently pushed the tip of his member inside her. Aye, she was still wet, very wet. He pulled out and ran his fingers over her slick entrance. She pressed against him, urging him inside her.

  “I am ready, Alexander, and know what to expect.”

  She gripped the fur tightly, waiting.

  “As ye wish, Wife.”

  It took four gentle thrusts to open her enough to submerge himself inside her. Keely cried out in pain and pleasure, but was quick to reassure him that she dinna want him to stop. Not that he could have. He thrust again and again, satisfying that selfish need to take her from behind, but then wanted more—much more.

  He pulled out, flipped her over, and draped one of her legs over his shoulder. “I want to see yer beautiful face, Keely.”

  She cupped his cheek and nodded. “And I want to see yours, Alex.”

  He pumped inside her again, this time with less resistance. Heat and wetness enveloped him, and he leaned forward and plundered her mouth—kissing her with a force he’d never experienced before. Keely dug her fingernails into his shoulder, her tongue wrestling with his, her lips tightly sealed over his mouth.

  The moment she began to unravel, he, too, lost control. They both screamed in utter shock and pleasure, the years of waiting for fulfillment finally over.

  When she awoke sometime in the night, Keely slipped from underneath her husband’s arm and padded to the other side of the chamber. She stopped in front of the hearth where the fire still burned warm and bright. Something magical had occurred between them, something she couldna quite explain yet. After their first joining, he washed her with a soft, wet cloth, and then cleaned himself before crawling underneath the furs with her. Then he made love to her again, less frenzied this time, but with the same care for her pleasure.

  Neither said a word as they drifted into sleep, but she remembered hearing his steady breathing, even a soft snore before she faded.

  Just to prove Alex’s words, she walked to the door and slid the bolt back, seeing if it would open. As he’d warned, the door was locked from the outside. She couldna get away even if she wanted to. Turning back toward the bed, she knew why she suddenly dinna have the need to run. Alex. He’d erased any doubt of where she belonged and who she belonged to. No wonder the church warned of the careless giving and taking of flesh. Something so special, so sacred, should be reserved for a husband and wife. That’s what she’d learned in her short time of intimacy with her husband.

  But did he feel the same?

  Could he feel anything after living as a heathen, beyond the grace of God?

  “Keely?” Alex sat up. “Are ye all right, lass?”

  “Aye.”

  “Come back to bed then.”

  “I am hungry.” Her stomach growled.

  Alex grinned. “Our bedsport has given ye a better appetite.”

  Keely wandered to the table and picked over the bread, cheese, and meat. Anything would taste good right now. She chewed a piece of smoked venison and swallowed it down with a sip of wine. “Are ye hungry?” She gazed at Alex.

  “In a different way, lass.” The same expression that had darkened his face earlier was back. The look of lust.

  She would never forget—even if she tried. No man had ever looked at her like that.

  He threw the furs back.

  Keely couldna keep her eyes off him as he stood up. His blond hair hung lose about his shoulders. And his powerful body, all that muscle and tanned skin, his confident stride … his erection. She closed her eyes for a quick moment and sucked in a breath. Aye, his member was long and thick and ready to be inside her again. He dinna need food or drink, he wanted her. As he reached her, he caressed her cheek, and she shivered.

  “What will it take to coax ye back to bed?” he asked.

  She pretended to think on it. “Something special, I think.”

  “How special?”

  She looked down. “Very special.”

  Alex chuckled. “Kiss me, Keely.”

  A foot taller than her, she stood on her toes and locked her hands behind his neck, pulling him down. Something sparked between them as their lips met, and Keely felt the wetness between her legs again.

  “Is it always this easy between a man and woman, Alex?”

  “Nay,” he said. “We share something rare. And I canna get enough of ye.” He dragged her from the table over to the closest chair and sat down. He patted his lap. “Straddle me.”

  “How?”

  “Very slowly, I doona wish to hurt ye.” Guiding her, he sunk inside her as she lowered herself on top of him.

  It felt so different. Though she was overly sensitive between her legs, no pain ensued. Instinctively, she started to roll her hips while Alex held on.

  “That’s it, lass. Doona stop.”

  She’d never thought it possible that a woman could take control. She liked it, perhaps more than she should. But just as she was getting familiar with how to move, Alex lifted her and carried her to the wall. He pressed her back against the cold, smooth stones, holding her up while he thrust inside her. Was there no end to the pleasure? No end to how many ways her new husband could bed her?

  Alex stopped moving and bit his lower lip. “I canna hold it, lass. I am sorry for it.”

  She dinna care, he’d already given her so much enjoyment, so much hope.

  Once he stopped convulsing, he lifted her chin and placed a kiss on her lips. “We should sleep now.”

  They walked hand-in-hand back to the bed. As she slipped under the furs, Keely couldna remember a time when she felt so content. Alex turned on his side and pulled her close, keeping an arm around her. “Sleep well, milady,” he whispered.

  She smiled as she closed her eyes, hoping her dreams were as sweet as the memories she’d made with her husband that night.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Despite the temptation to stay with his wife, Alex knew there was much work to be done. He was careful not to make too much noise as he slipped out of the bed to find his clothes. Aye—the night couldna have gone better. Keely was everything a man could want in bed. Her scent lingered all over him, and he liked it that way. He washed his face and hands, then dressed. Once his boots were on, he walked to the door and knocked four times.

  The bolt slid back and one of the guards opened it for him. “Good morn, Laird Alex,” Iain said with a stupid smile.

  Alex nodded and stepped into the corridor. “Let my wife sleep. When she is ready, she is free to walk about the keep and bailey. But one of ye must stay with her at all times.”

  “Aye,” Iain said.

  Alex made his way belowstairs, and was welcomed by the council and his captains.

  “Food,” he demanded, claiming his seat at the high table.

  A maid set a trencher of warm oats in front of him, then filled his cup with ale.

  “Ye survived the long night. Did ye bring the sheet?” Mathe asked.

  “What sheet?” Alex swallowed his first bite of food.

  “The bloody sheet from yer bridal bed,” Mathe explained. “To provide the necessary evidence of yer wife’s purity. There’s been much talk of it.”

  “And who is entitled to see it?”

  “The council, your captains, and perhaps any clan member who is interested. This marriage isna a private affair, milord. Hundreds of people are depending on ye, on Lady MacKay, to set things right, to heal the wounds so cruelly inflicted by the past and the Sutherlands. In short, Alex, hope.”

  “And a blasted sheet will give ye that hope?” He couldna understand why any of them would doubt his ability to
determine whether his young bride was an innocent or not. “My word should suffice. I did see virgin’s blood.”

  Mathe leaned closer and spoke quietly. “I believe ye.”

  “Let that be enough.”

  “Nay.”

  “What do ye mean, nay?”

  “There are those like Angus. Tenants filled with superstitions who need to see the physical evidence to satisfy their doubts. The sheet should be hung from the window in yer bedchamber or even here in the great hall.”

  Alex growled with disapproval. “I dinna bed my wife in the usual way.”

  Mathe raised a brow. “Milord?”

  Alex sighed and scrubbed his face. Did he really need to explain? Perhaps. The older man clung to tradition like the superstitious crofters he spoke about. “We dinna use the bed, Mathe. Not the first time.”

  The councilman’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

  “Are ye going to call me a heathen again?”

  “I doona know what to say, Alexander. Is Lady Keely well?”

  “Sleeping as sound as a babe.”

  “Something must be done, milord. Quickly.”

  With the sudden loss of his appetite, Alex shot up from his chair and rushed upstairs. Instead of returning to the laird’s bedchamber where Keely slept, he went to her room. Fresh linens were folded and kept on a shelf near the bed. He selected a sheet, opened it, and then used the dirk from his boot to cut himself on the wrist. Very carefully, he sprinkled a fair amount of blood on the material. “There’s yer virgin’s blood,” he said out loud.

  He left the soiled linen on the bed and went back to the great hall to find a maid.

  Fortunately, Leah was available. “Go to my wife’s chamber and bring the bridal sheet belowstairs. Present it to Captain Mathe and do with it as he asks.”

  Leah curtsied and left.

  Alex once again claimed his chair at the high table. “Leah will fetch the sheet ye asked for.”

  “Good,” Mathe said. “Are ye happy, Alex? Will Keely suit?”

  Alex took a drink of ale. “She’ll suit.”

  He finished his meal in silence, then motioned for his captains to follow him outside. The west village must be rebuilt. If it wasn’t, the Sutherlands would see it as a sign of fear. And he’d be damned if the earl would be given any opportunity to claim victory over the MacKays.

  A squire saddled his horse and brought him out of the stable. Alex mounted, waiting for the rest of his men to do the same. The west village was a short ride away. Since he hadn’t taken the time to tour it after the battle, it was a long overdue visit.

  An hour later, they approached the outskirts. It dinna take long for Alex to see the devastation, burned out huts and scorched earth. The gardens were even destroyed. Nothing had been spared. It enraged Alex that such violence was directed at his people, instead of at him or the MacKay soldiers. Women and children had died or been kidnapped.

  “There is nothing worth saving.” Jamie rode up beside him.

  “Except for our pride.”

  “Aye,” his cousin reluctantly agreed. “There is that.”

  “What it’s worth,” Alex added.

  “Not much to a Sutherland.”

  “But everything to a MacKay,” Alex finished.

  Nearly a hundred people had lived there. Though one of the smaller villages, the tenants were hard workers and produced the finest wool and tastiest vegetables for his table. It had always been that way. As a child, Alex would play with the children who lived there, spending hours swimming in the nearby loch and eating supper with whatever family invited him to stay.

  He dismounted and walked to a random spot where a hut once stood. He crouched and picked up a clump of earth and smelled it, rich soil—the best his lands had to offer.

  “How many huts were here?” he asked.

  “Seventeen,” one of his men answered.

  “Rebuild every one of them, better than before. I want a defensive wall constructed as well—four feet high, from stone.”

  “Alex.” Jamie joined him. “The time and expense…”

  “No expense will be spared, Jamie. Remember, with my new lairdship comes my well-supplied purse. The MacKays willna go without again.”

  “And what will happen the next time a Sutherland decides to attack the village?”

  “We will be prepared. A guardhouse is to be built as well. Four soldiers will be permanently stationed here.”

  His cousin nodded, but Alex knew he disagreed with his choices.

  Alex wouldna let the land stand fallow. Nay, he’d use the strategies he’d learned while he was away and make the MacKays a feared clan. Even the keep required updating. He wanted to construct a new tower and reinforce the outer wall. They also needed to recruit new soldiers. All of it would be financed by his own gold and silver.

  “Where do ye wish to go next?” Jamie asked.

  “We will visit all of the westward villages today. Leave half of the men here to start working, the rest will come with us.”

  Jamie immediately departed to make sure his orders were followed.

  The earl would pay for his treachery even though there was no direct proof linking the man to this violence. Spilled blood required revenge. An eye for an eye—as the Almighty demanded. Alex wouldna rest until the debt was paid in full.

  Keely knew she had to brave going belowstairs. As Lady MacKay, earning the respect and trust of the clan meant everything to her. She couldna hide in her bedchamber forever. With Leah at her side, she descended the stairs, hoping to be welcomed by someone.

  The colorful tapestry and weapons hanging over the main hearth in the great hall had been covered with a blood-stained sheet. Keely couldna believe her eyes. And though she understood the importance of the symbol, it was a lie.

  “Milady,” Leah urged her mistress onward. “Ye must take yer seat at the high table.”

  “That dinna come from our bridal bed,” she informed Leah.

  “Aye. Laird Alex sent me to retrieve it from yer bedchamber.”

  “But why?”

  Her every move was being carefully watched by the soldiers and servants in the hall. It was bad enough she’d woken in an empty bed, learning from her maid that Alex had ridden off with his captains. But to have to stare at the sheet while she broke her fast… It dinna set right with her.

  “Remove the unseemly thing,” she commanded Leah.

  The maid hesitated, looking about the hall before she finally nodded and searched for a chair to stand on so she could reach it. Leah dragged the heavy piece of furniture as close to the hearth as she could get it, then climbed up. Just as she started to reach for the end of the sheet, Mathe approached.

  “Nay,” he called out. “Climb down, Mistress Leah.”

  “But sir…” the maid said.

  “Doona stop, Leah,” Keely instructed her.

  “Lady Keely,” Mathe said. “The sheet must stay.”

  “I disagree, Captain Mathe. After all…” she whispered. “Tis my blood on it, is it not?”

  The captain’s cheeks turned scarlet. “If ye’d come with me.” He took her arm, gently encouraging her to walk with him. “A conversation better held in private.”

  Keely stopped walking. “And where would we find a place to talk alone?”

  “Yer husband’s solar, perhaps?”

  Keely shook her head. “And give the clan something else to wag their tongues over? I am well aware that my reputation is questionable, Captain Mathe, but I wouldna want to give the maids a reason to start talking ill of ye. Anything ye have to say will be spoken here.”

  “Christ’s blood,” the normally mild captain exclaimed as he huffed out a breath. “I dinna think I’d live to see the day when the Almighty would deliver a woman with a tongue as careless as her laird’s.”

  Keely couldna hold back the morbid laugh. “What are ye trying to say?”

  “Lady Keely…” He cleared his throat. “That sheet is to remain hanging in the hall for te
n days—enough time for any MacKay or visitor to satisfy their moral curiosity.”

  “Moral curiosity? Just what is that, sir?”

  “Proof of yer innocence.”

  Keely bit her tongue. What she was dying to say included something about how indecent her wedding night with her new husband had been—how there’d been no sheet to capture her virgin blood. Aye, perhaps she had spent too much time around Alex in the past—and six older brothers who rarely refrained from expressing themselves in front of her. “Ye require evidence of my innocence, Captain Mathe, but the very thing used to prove it is vulgar in every way!”

  “Tis not abhorrent in any way, Lady Keely.”

  “Nay? Shall I tell ye what it made me think of the moment I saw it?”

  Mathe tugged at his collar. “I-I believe I can guess without further explanation.”

  “May I be of some help?” Petro appeared suddenly.

  Keely gazed at the scholar. Where had he come from? Did it matter? She more than appreciated his presence. “Good morn,” she greeted him, trying to banish her sour mood.

  “Good morn,” he returned with a smile. “Perhaps Captain Mathe would prefer finishing his ale. Laird Alex asked me to keep an eye out for you. Unfortunately, he needed to inspect the west village so he could make the necessary arrangements to rebuild the place. A walk would be nice.” He offered his arm.

  Keely dinna need to think about it, she accepted. “Please send Leah out,” she told the captain.

  Mathe bowed his head out of duty, nothing more. “As ye wish.” He rushed back to the hall.

  “I have waited for this moment,” Petro said.

  “My moment of utter shame?”

  He chuckled. “No. The pleasure of your company, milady, a chance to speak alone.”

  “I doona see why. I am sure ye’ve been exposed to the gossip.”

  “I am a man of science, Lady Keely. If I listened to every rumor, then the process of discovery would be wasted on me. I prefer to gather facts, then make my own judgments.”

  In that moment, Keely decided she liked Petro, immensely. “Then tell me what ye wish to know.”