Chapter Three

 

As Alex bent down to retrieve his sword, he glimpsed something in the grass a yard away from his head. He slowly gripped the hilt, readying himself to skewer the serpent if it made a move toward him. In a calculated motion, he lifted his sword as well as his gaze to study the thing.

It wasn’t a snake.

In two quick strides, he caught the article and fought the urge to curse. There was no doubt the piece of green fabric was from Margaret’s blouse. There had been a struggle, then. He’d known it. Deep in his gut, he’d known it. And he now held the reality of it in his hand.

He tucked the evidence in the waist of his kilt. After wetting his finger, Alex held it into the wind to find its direction. Judging from the position of the fabric and the direction the wind had blown it, he’d been heading the wrong way. Clearing his mind of all distractions, Alex turned back and followed his instincts like a beast on the hunt.

Forty paces north, Alex tilted his head and listened. There was something moving deep in the woods to his side, and it was something rather clumsy. Whatever it was, it was stumbling. Either a drunken human or a wounded animal. Or a wounded human. As long as it wasn’t Maggie…

Sword drawn, he quickly and silently entered the woods, brushing branches from his path with the blade. He followed the sound of leaves and sticks cracking beneath the weight of two feet, eliminating the possibility of a wild animal. With the thick growth of trees it was still impossible to sight the bastard, but Alex could hear the occasional muttered exclamation as the man tripped over roots and rocks.

He knew it had to be the one who ripped Margaret’s blouse, but there was no sound of a second set of footsteps. Where was she?

Maybe she’d escaped. Depending on the size and intelligence of her opponent, it was a definite possibility. Margaret acted rashly sometimes—well, truth be known, often—but she was clever, to boot. If she wasn’t outnumbered, she had a fighting chance.

Ahead, the trees were sparse enough to give away the heathen. Alex, choosing his path carefully, came up behind him and pressed his dirk to the man’s throat. “Care to tell me where the girl is, mucan?”

Rather than answer, the fool tried to pull away. The result was a three-inch-long slice, albeit a shallow one, along the side of his neck. “Bastard! You cut me!” His hand flew to the wound, smudging what little blood had spilled.

“Nay, ye cut yerself by squirming, ye dullard. But I’ll finish ye off if ye dunna tell me where she is, ye ken?”

“Where’s who?”

The blade rocked precariously from one side of his neck to the other. “Ye wish to die today, do ye?” Alex growled, more than willing to open him from ear to ear for whatever he’d done.

“Not…not necessarily.” Alex watched the pulse of his neck as the man changed his story. “Put the knife down. I’ll tell ye what you want to know. I swear it!”

Alex tightened his hold. “Not bloody likely. Tell me.”

After several audible swallows, he choked out a confession—but not much of one. He promised Alexander he’d merely “borrowed” her, and had placed her somewhere for “safe-keeping” until he could return with some water, the problem being, he didn’t remember where he’d left her.

Alex wasn’t falling for it.

“How stupid do ye think I am?” With a flip of his wrist, he inflicted a smaller wound on the other side. “This is yer final warning. Where is she?”

“I told you, I don’t rightly know!”

In a split second, the man twisted the lower half of his body and drove the tip of a concealed blade into the flesh of Alex’s thigh.

Whether the man was lying or not, Alex would never know.

* * * * *

Having no idea when her abductor would return, Margaret tried to ignore the nausea rising in her stomach and the stars sparkling before her eyes. It was best if she could get away from the cavern and into the woods. She could find a better place to hide once she got there. Even if she didn’t know quite where she was, neither would the scoundrel who was after her.

It wasn’t long, though, before Margaret succumbed to the cool comfort of the floor. Lying supine seemed to alleviate the dizziness which, in turn, soothed her stomach.

God help her if the man returned. She was in no condition to fight him. The set of lungs she had on her would be the only thing of use, but she was too far away from civilization for screaming to do any good. And the damn cavern would swallow her words, anyway.

Her bottom lip trembled as reality set in. There was a good chance she was going to die. If the bastard knocked her over the head just to shut her up, it was just as likely he’d kill her once he was through with her. At the least, he would rape her and leave her without her maidenhead. The Duke of Westingham would have no reason to pursue her, then. The chances of her helping her uncle would be nil.

Things were bleak, indeed.

She allowed herself to wallow in her woes for only a brief time. With a sniffle and renewed determination, Margaret sat up. She studied the entrance a mere yard away, and willed herself to move.

You are capable.

When she’d made it as far as her knees, the cavern went dark. Within seconds, the light reappeared at the entrance, then disappeared again.

Someone was walking in front of the opening. Back and forth they went, shutting off her only chance of escape.

Struggling the last bit as she came to a precarious standing position, Margaret took a deep breath and pressed herself against the slimy wall. The edges of her vision were fuzzy, warning her she was doing too much too soon.

The light died all at once, and for a moment she wasn’t sure if she’d lost consciousness or if the entrance had been blocked. She could barely summon the strength to care.

The light reappeared as a tall, rugged figure entered the cave, clearing the entrance once again.

Alex!

As she opened her mouth to say his name, out came the contents of her stomach.

She heard him say, “Well, that’s a verra nice welcome, lass. I’m pleased to see ye, too,” before everything went dark.

* * * * *

It had been a day since Alex had taken her from the cave and, on the whole, she seemed to be doing much better. He wrung out the cloth he’d dipped in the brook and placed it over her forehead, more as a comfort than as an aid for healing.

“Thank you,” Margaret uttered, bringing her hand to rest on the cool, damp fabric. “Not just for the cloth, but…for everything.”

He hadn’t said as much as a word to her about the incident since she regained consciousness, but he could no longer hold his tongue. “Ye willna leave my side again.”

“But I—”

He effectively silenced her with a glare. Rarely did he have need to give orders to someone of the fairer sex, but when he did, his decree brooked no argument.

“Until I return ye safely to your da, ye will stay by my side, Margaret Fraser. I’ll turn my back while ye tend to your womanly necessities, but—God as my witness—I’ll not let ye be taken again.”

Alex had to look away from those haunting green eyes of hers, lest he give his thoughts away. Never had he been so worried for someone in all his life. Just the thought of what might have happened to her made his hands shake with rage. The Highlands were no place for a lady to wander by herself, and this incident proved it.

“I see,” Margaret stated quietly. “I suppose we should get it over with, then.”

Alex turned back to her. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” she began with a grimace, “if I don’t find a cluster of bushes or trees in the next moment or two…”

With a slight blush, Alex helped her to her feet. “Well, I guess ye’d best see to it, aye?”

 

Maggie straightened her skirts, never once taking her eyes off Alex’s broad back. To her surprise, he’d been a gentleman of honor and allowed her privacy. Well, as much privacy as five strides of distance granted, anyway.

“Are ye decent yet?” Alex asked, hands braced on his hips as he shifted back and forth.

“Yes. You may look, MacKay.”

His shoulders relaxed before he turned to face her. “I wish I could have afforded ye more privacy, but given the gravity of the situation…”

Maggie waved her hand. “Think nothing of it. Besides, I’ll be saying the same to you afore the day’s out.” It was nearly impossible for Maggie to keep a straight face when he arched an eyebrow. Apparently he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “If I can’t leave your side, MacKay, then I’ll be right there when you’re…um…relieving yourself too.” She blinked innocently. “I’m correct, aren’t I?”

Realization donned in his eyes, and he quickly drew back. “I, uh, I…suppose ye’re right.”

It was difficult to tamp the impish grin that wanted to take over. “And when you wash in the brook, I’ll be there as well.”

Maggie swore she saw the corners of his mouth start to turn upward before one of his big, bronzed hands reached up to stroke his stubbled chin. “Really, now? I hadn’t thought of that.”

Maggie gently raked her bottom lip with her teeth, a move that provoked a heated look from her opponent. “That could prove interesting, could it not?”

Alex stepped closer. “Have ye ever bathed with a man, Margaret?”

Her pulse raced as their gazes met. There was a hungry look in his eyes, and he appeared ready to pounce. To keep her hands steady, she clasped them in front of her. “Does my brother count? When we were bairns, they used to bathe us together.”

His blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. “Nay. It doesna count.” He waited for her answer only a moment longer. “Well?”

Maggie lowered her lids coyly. “I don’t believe I shall answer that question, MacKay. If I say I have, I’d be painting myself the strum. If I say I haven’t, well… Would I appear too innocent, I wonder.”

Alex laughed, and she wondered how he’d gotten so close without her noticing. His earthy, masculine scent enveloped her like a favorite blanket. “Oh Maggie, I imagine ye fall somewhere in between.”

His chest was partially exposed, and he was near enough to touch. Her fingers itched to reach out to him, but she held back. “Perhaps I do.”

It was Alex who breached the invisible barrier, twirling a lock of her hair around his fingers. She sucked in a breath as he wove his way through the thick mass of tresses. “Ye are dangerous to a man’s self-control, Margaret.”

The flutters in her stomach intensified as he leaned closer. Breathless, she responded, “Why would I wish for you to restrain yourself?”

She felt rather than heard the feral growl that reverberated in his chest as he took possession of her mouth. The sweet shock of his tongue fully engaged with hers made her knees weaken in response, and she gripped his shoulders to keep herself upright. His arms tightened around her waist as he deepened the kiss, and an errant hand found its way to the curve of her buttocks.

Wetness pooled between her thighs as he dragged her firmly to him. With authoritative hands, he guided her so that her pelvis was grinding against him in a slow, tantalizing rhythm. Before she knew it, her body assumed the natural cadence, allowing his hands to explore elsewhere. His fingers lightly traced the path of her spine, invoking a tingling sensation that made her want to press against him even harder.

Cupping one of her breasts, he teased the nipple to the point of delirium.

“Maggie,” he whispered after dragging his lips away from hers. “Ye’ve no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch ye this way.”

His words washed over her like a wave, saturating every inch of her skin with an acute awareness of what he was saying. Alex had fantasized about her. She’d been so certain he hadn’t noticed her. Why hadn’t he said something before now?

Fi’s words flashed through her mind. Men will say anything to get beneath yer skirts, ye ken? They’ll lull ye with kind words and all sorts of flatteries. But after they’ve taken what they will, yer left with an empty heart and nothing but false promises.

Was that really the way it was with the lot of them? Surely Alex wouldn’t have said it if he hadn’t meant it. And he’d certainly sounded sincere.

As if sensing her hesitation, he slowed his ravishment of her senses. With her body still aching for more of what he offered, he slackened his hold and allowed her to take a diffident step backward.

Perhaps Fi had the right of it. Maggie hadn’t responded to his statement, and now he was releasing her.

She would forever keep that in the forefront of her mind.

“What is it, lass?”

Her heart sank, yet her pulse refused to slow. When Maggie had decided to enlist his help, she hadn’t expected any sentiment from him. What fool was she to want it now? It wouldn’t serve her to lament what she knew would never be.

Maggie faltered, debating whether she should advise him of her plan. There would never be a “perfect” opportunity in which to broach the subject. At least if they spoke of it now, they could come to a mutual understanding. They wouldn’t speak words of flattery, and he would teach her the arts of seduction and sexual pleasure. After his tutelage was complete, they would go their separate ways—no attachments or regrets.

She could do this. Really, she could.

After swallowing the lump forming in her throat, Maggie removed her hands from the warmth of his chest. “If I may have a word with you…”

 

Alex wanted to knock his head against a wall. As soon as the confession left his lips, he knew he was in trouble. The last thing he’d meant to do was admit he’d wanted her. Never, ever, ever would he have admitted that to a woman before. It left too much to interpretation. There was no denying he was a rake of the worst sort, conceding to softer emotions brought nothing but trouble.

It seemed Margaret appreciated the admission of his feelings even less than he.

“What is it, lass?” He’d asked the question before he could stop himself. Alex didn’t want to know what was going on in her mind. The transition from wet and willing to cold and casual had taken no time at all. If he’d kept his tongue busy laving her body rather than spewing sentiment, he’d be halfway inside her by now.

No. That wouldn’t have been wise either. Her kinsmen would skin him alive.

“If I may have a word with you…” Maggie began again, her eyelids fluttering shut as she chose her words carefully.

Why did he have the feeling he wasn’t going to like this?

With a resigned sigh, he backed himself to a nearby tree and crossed his arms. “Ye have my undivided attention, lass.”

Margaret made no effort to close the distance between them, choosing instead to stand her place and toy with the torn edges of her blouse. It was damn lucky for him that her brother and father didn’t travel this neck of the Highlands. By appearances, they’d think Alex had tried—or even succeeded—to ravish her. He’d have to find her a decent change of clothing before he returned her lest he be accused of it anyway.

“I have a-a dilemma, of sorts.”

“Mmm. And?”

Margaret eyed him, seeming to gauge his mood before she continued. God knew he was trying to be attentive, but if she didn’t get on with it he was going to lose his patience. Having been raised with six brothers, Alex wasn’t accustomed to female theatrics. If a man had a thought to convey, he’d express it—simply and plainly. Why did a woman have to do a song and dance afore and aft?

“I need your help, Alex.”

He noted the pretty shade of pink tinting Maggie’s cheeks. It was different than the coloring she adorned in lust. This was the shade of abashment. She’d had his cock in her mouth, for crying out loud. What could be causing her such consternation now?

“I’ll try my best,” he assured her, wondering all the while what he was getting himself into.

Maggie took a deep breath. “I need someone to… Well, not just anyone, but you, actually, to teach me how to seduce and pleasure man. We won’t form any attachments, sentimental or otherwise. And I must remain a virgin.”

He felt his jaw slacken of its own accord and knew he was gaping at her. He’d thought they’d already passed seduction and were exploring the pleasure aspect. What was he missing? “Ye want me to what?”

“I want to learn how to catch a man’s interest. Will you show me?”

A hundred thoughts ricocheted in his head, and he struggled to make sense of them. “Why would ye want to know that?”

Maggie avoided his gaze again. “There’s someone’s eye I need to catch. And quickly.”

 

Alex pushed away from the tree and took a step closer, his nostrils flaring like those of an angered bull. “Who is he?”

With a quick sidestep, Margaret placed marginal distance between them—of which he immediately closed in two strides. “Just…someone.”

“‘Someone’?” Alex snickered. “Every man has a name, Margaret. Who is he?”

Why was he so upset? When she’d asked him, she thought he’d be flattered, at least. Randy, at most. He appeared anything but. “I can’t tell you. At least, not yet.”

He raked a hand through his hair, mussing the strands even further. Maggie tried to ignore the fact he had a sword strapped to his back. The glower he wore made him appear all the more dangerous. “Let me see if I ken what yer asking. Ye want me to teach ye how to seduce ano’er man, and show ye what to do to pleasure him.” He said the word “him” with such malice, he nearly spat it. “And to what purpose? Are ye seeking to marry this man?”

Startled by the question, Maggie stumbled on a branch as she backed away. Alex shot his hands out and grabbed her arm, pulling her closer. She wasn’t steady enough to stand on her own. “No!” she managed to answer when she found her voice. “Of course not.”

His breath was warm against her cheek. “If no for marriage, then what, lass?”

Her heart pounded at the nearness of him. Despite his brashness—or perhaps because of it—she felt drawn to him even more. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that either. It’s…personal.”

Personal. It struck her then that her choice of words was laughable. There was nothing more personal than what she longed for him to do to her.

“Ye’d best find someone else, Margaret.” He released his hold on her arm. “I willna aid ye in bedding yer Mr.‘Someone’.”

* * * * *

Margaret’s emotions teetered between embarrassment and resentment as she watched him from beneath the elm tree. Though she’d harbored some resentment for all the times he’d barely acknowledged her presence, she could understand it. Alex was surrounded by women who were eager to do his bidding—and many of them were prettier and more experienced than she. But here they were, alone, and Maggie had made it perfectly clear what she was after. No attachments, no misconceptions…just thorough training in the sensual arts.

Why wasn’t he willing to help her?

Alex had been eager for them to be on their way, but riding, even at a walk, made her head feel as if it were splitting in two. Reluctantly, he had reined Thunder back into the woods. He began setting up camp while she was forced to watch his unyielding form set up a makeshift shelter.

The heat in the shade was unbearable, let alone in the sun where Alex labored. It wasn’t long before his shirt came off and was thrown carelessly to the side, revealing a broad expanse of chest and back. Unabashed, she observed the flex of his muscles as he gathered branches and lugged them on his shoulder, dumping them in a heap several yards away from her. The area between her thighs dampened as she watched him, knowing how those strapping arms had carried her before.

Why didn’t he want her the way she wanted him?

Margaret quickly corrected herself. She didn’t want him, really… She simply needed his instruction. Nothing more than that.

She supposed it was unfair to judge him for his reaction—she’d presented her plan rather abruptly. Maybe he needed time to get used to the idea. Her brother was his closest friend, and there would be friction between them if Robert found out.

Friction…like that of the rough fabric of her skirt as he’d rubbed her clit the day before. The memory alone made her throb with need. Alex certainly hadn’t seemed reluctant then. Nor when she’d taken his sizable cock in her mouth. What had changed since?

Fi is right—men are bloody idiots.

As she stretched her legs out in front of her, Maggie made up her mind. She was going to convince him to help her, come hell or high water.

 

Each time Alex hauled a load of branches on his shoulders, he imagined it was the lifeless body of the bastard Maggie wanted to fuck—whomever he was. It was fortunate she’d withheld his name or Alex would be riding night and day to find him, whether her head bothered her or no.

He wasn’t sure why he was so discomfited by her announcement. The man could hardly be anyone of significance if Margaret had no desire to wed him. And if her plan was purely lust driven, then perhaps Alex could fill the void and make her forget about the other lad altogether.

Aye. He would be doing her a favor if he did so.

He was sure her brother and father wouldn’t see it that way, but there was no need for them to know. She hadn’t been specific about what she wanted to learn. There were many things he was willing to teach her that wouldn’t breach her delicate barrier.

A bit of his ire lifting as he made his decision, Alex glanced in Maggie’s direction. She watched him through those long lashes of hers, never faltering despite the blush rising in her cheeks. When the minx was determined, she was relentless. He’d give her that.

His cock hardened as he pictured what she’d look like with those skirts rucked up and her legs splayed wide for him. Of how he would penetrate her with willing fingers, gauging her tightness and making her slick with need.

God, he wanted her. And from the heated perusal she was giving him, the feeling was mutual.

As a stray thought took hold and grew, Alex fought to suppress a grin. It was spiteful, he had to admit. But after the hell she’d put him through he wasn’t going to tell her he’d changed his mind.

No. The lass was going to have to work for it.

Knowing her as well as he did, all he had to do was wait. Before long, Maggie would do her best to connive him. She’d use her feminine wiles in an attempt to gain his cooperation. And wasn’t that what she wanted, anyway? To learn how to seduce a man? There was no better way to learn of it than by trial and error.

Let’s see what the little vixen is capable of, aye?

Aside from finding trouble and causing a hitch in his plans, that is. With her head injury, he couldn’t drag her around the brook to look for Ian. If they didn’t find one another by chance, he would be forced to delay the search for yet another day. The latter option didn’t please him, but he had little choice in the matter.

He might as well enjoy the challenge of her company in the meanwhile.

* * * * *

Having grown tired of sitting still, Margaret put on the worn shirt Alex had offered her and informed him she was taking a walk. It came as no surprise when he fell in step behind her.

“How far are we from Bare Brook?” she inquired, sparing a glance over her shoulder to make sure it was his footsteps she was hearing.

“Not far.”

“If I’m not mistaken, it will be to our right.”

She sensed his reluctance in the grunt he emitted.

“Is there a particular spot that’s more intriguing than another? There has to be a mile or more of brook, no?”

Alex heaved a sigh. “Aye, there’s a lot of flat terrain on this side of the water. Ye are likely to run across any number of inhabited spots here.”

A small shiver of anticipation ran through Margaret. With Alex guarding her back, she didn’t mind visiting the brook. Was it possible they’d see a couple fornicating out in the middle of these woods? The area seemed so remote. But there were a number of stories she’d heard whispered about the place. She supposed it was possible.

They walked deeper into the woods, the smell of earth and pine enveloping them in a welcoming embrace. Maggie lost sight of her mission as she immersed her senses in the wonder around her.

London had nothing on the Highlands.

Before long, Margaret stopped in her tracks and tilted her head. She’d thought she’d heard a man’s voice, but she couldn’t be sure. “Did you hear something?” she whispered to Alex.

He nodded, pointing to a fallen tree ahead and to the right.

Quietly, Margaret resumed her pursuit of the noise. Just on the other side of the tree was a clearing and confirmation that the brook was domain for the adventurous and naughty.

Margaret sank to her knees, shamelessly peering through the foliage at the exposition on the other side. If ever she felt entitled to invade someone else’s privacy, it was here. Not only did the folk at Bare Brook take no offense to it, they were known to welcome it.

As best as she could tell, there was but one woman and two men at this particular site. Wasn’t it difficult enough to satisfy one person, let alone two? Maggie wet her dry lips as she waited, anxious to discover how all three would find their pleasure.

The taller of the men stood in front of the lady, eyeing her intently. “Abigail McLeod, you have been charged with neglecting your wifely duties. How do you plead?”

With a hint of a smile, she lowered her head and peered up at him through fluttering eyelashes. “Guilty, yer honor.”

Margaret could feel Alex’s large form behind her, but she didn’t turn her head. She’d never heard of anyone playacting like this before, and she didn’t want to miss anything.

The man pointed accusingly at Abigail. “You are hereby ordered to remove your clothing from the waist down and receive a paddling for your insolence.”

“Aye, yer honor.” Slowly, deliberately, she did as she was bade. A smattering of dark hair was all that concealed her most intimate spot from view, but she didn’t appear to be the least concerned about her exposure.

“On your knees, Abigail,” he ordered.

She knelt before him on a folded wool blanket and awaited her punishment. The fair-haired man gently guided her down until she rested on her elbows, buttocks bared to the air behind her. The taller one nodded to him, signaling the commencement of her penalty. After the second man raised his hand a good distance from her, he brought it down hard against her arse. The initial sound made Margaret jump, but the woman on the receiving end merely flinched.

The accused received a dozen more of these slaps, each one harder than the one before it, until her bottom took on the color of a deep blush. After the last one was administered, several of the man’s fingers disappeared into the folds of flesh between her legs. The woman threw her head back and groaned, seeming pleased with the fondling she was receiving.

He quickly withdrew his hand. “Yer honor, she’s wet as the mornin’ grass. I don’t think she’s learnt a lesson from the thrashin’.”

Margaret sucked in a breath. With her buttocks burning, they wouldn’t do it again, would they? Subconsciously, she rubbed her own cheeks.

The “judge” considered this for a moment, then commanded the woman to straighten up to her knees. “Bare the rest of your flesh.” Without question, she did as he dictated. Her nipples were tightened like little pearls on her bared breasts. “Now take your husband’s cock inside your mouth and suck him.”

The husband dropped his trousers, allowing his eager roger to stand erect to her willing lips. She smiled before taking him deep inside, working her head back and forth at a steady pace. Her breasts jounced as she moved, brushing against his legs.

It wasn’t long before the man pulled out and spewed his seed, saving her the task of swallowing.

“Gavin McLeod…do you feel your wife has been sufficiently punished for her crime?”

The man shook his head. “Nay, yer honor.”

“Well, then,” he began as he approached the smug Abigail. He reached down and tugged on a nipple. Her breathing hitched as he began fondling both of her breasts, twirling his fingers around the hardened peaks and gently twisting them at his will. “On your back, and spread your legs. Be quick about it.”

She winced slightly as her bottom touched the ground, but just as quickly composed herself. He removed his breeches and lowered himself on top of her, burying his impressive cock between her splayed legs.

Margaret gasped. “He’s going to take her right there while the husband’s watching?” she whispered to Alex, not once averting her eyes.

He leaned close to her ear. “The judge is her real husband.”

Mouth agape, Margaret continued to watch until the two reached orgasm before turning away. She blinked at Alex. “And this sort of thing happens frequently?”

“Och, no! Sometimes they let her be the judge.”