Upton Lamont sat in his chair in front of the fireplace. The mutton in his belly, the fire at his feet, had him feeling content and replete. He studied his younger daughter, who sat, head bent over needle and thread, attempting to repair her brother’s torn tunic. Her impatience with the task was evident in her face. Her lips were pursed in a little pout. Her eyes resembled storm clouds. Each time she pricked her finger, she emitted a hiss of anger.
“Where is your Campbell, lass?”
Merritt’s head came up sharply. “He is not my Campbell.”
“Aye.” Her father swallowed back the chuckle that threatened. How she reminded him of himself when he was young and tempestuous. “Where is the Campbell?”
She shrugged. “He and Astra went to the village.”
“For what purpose?”
She couldn’t hide the edge to her voice. “He did not choose to share his reason with me.” In fact, he had barely spoken to her this morrow. Ever since their return from the forest, he had ignored her, choosing instead to spend all his time either in the kitchens with Astra or in Sabina’s chambers with his brother.
Father and daughter looked up at the sound of approaching horses. At once Merritt retrieved the sword that hung over the mantel. As she turned, the door was thrown open and Shaw strode inside, followed by Astra and a dozen or more men, women and youths.
Merritt’s eyes flashed dangerously. “What is the reason for this invasion, Campbell?”
“It is no invasion, my lady.” Shaw stepped aside so that she could see the familiar faces of the peasants from the nearby village.
In her presence, the men snatched their caps from their heads and the women lowered their heads, in deference to the lady of the manor.
“These people are loyal to the laird of Inverene House.” Shaw saw the surprise in Merritt’s eyes before she composed herself. “They wish to serve him.”
Upton, spotting an elderly man leaning upon a walking stick, called, “Colbert, is that you? Has the fever left, then?”
The man hobbled closer and smiled. Shaw had already warned the peasants that the laird had been confined to his pallet by a mysterious fever sweeping through the Highlands.
“Aye, m’laird. So it would seem.”
Upton seemed slightly amused at the old man’s words, and Shaw began to wonder. Had the laird of Inverene known all along that the stories of a fever had been pure fabrication? Did the villagers know the truth about the laird, as well?
“I was afraid to return to Inverene House,” Colbert said, “for I’d heard stories that it was under siege from Campbells. But the lad here assures me that ye are still laird, and that ye desire my services.”
“Aye, Colbert.” Upton sat up straighter, knowing the servants were milling about, peering at him with great curiosity. It wouldn’t do to have them see any weakness in their laird. “I desire the services of all of you.”
The other peasants broke into wide, eager smiles.
Upton looked into the crowd and called, “Dulcie. Is that you, lass? Why, look at you. You’ve grown from a child to a woman.”
“Aye, m’laird,” said an apple-cheeked young woman, whose little son and daughter peered from behind her skirts.
To Shaw, Upton said, “Dulcie is Astra’s niece. I watched her grow up here at Inverene House. Why, she knows every nook and cranny of this old place. And hid herself in quite a few, as I recall.”
“I am a wife now, with two small bairns,” the girl said with pride. She drew a tall, strapping peasant forward. “This is my husband, Adair. He is strong and eager to work.”
“Then you are welcome in Inverene House,” Upton said. “As are all of you,” he called to the others. “For there is much to be done.”
His words caught Shaw by surprise, and he found himself wondering again just how much Upton had surmised. Could it be that the elder Lamont had not been fooled by his daughters’ attempts to shield him from the truth?
“Ye’ve wasted enough of the laird’s time,” Astra called impatiently. “Ye will all follow me to the kitchens, and I will tell ye y’er duties.”
The old servant was suddenly in her glory now that she had a household staff to direct once more.
As the peasants filed from the great hall Astra said to Shaw, “I will take the women and assign them their tasks, if ye will show the men what needs to be done.”
“Aye, Astra.”
Shaw led the men outside. In no time they had been divided into groups. Several brawny young lads, with Adair in charge, headed toward the forest with axes over their shoulders. In no time the air rang with the sound of trees falling and logs being chopped.
Two lads were assigned to the flock of sheep, while a large group of men began the difficult task of filling in the pit and rebuilding the stable that had been burned, in addition to repairing the other outbuildings.
Dusk was falling when Shaw finally made his way to the house and walked down the hallway. Fresh rushes had been strewn on the floor, giving off their clean, earthy fragrance. The wood shone with beeswax, and a score of candles glowed in sconces along the walls. Before Shaw could enter the great hall, Merritt stepped through the doorway and caught his arm, pulling him aside.
“Do you know what you have done?” she demanded.
“Done?” Puzzled, Shaw struggled with the urge to gather her into his arms and crush her petulant mouth under his. Each time she came near him, the temptation was the same, and he experienced a wave of heat that left him weak with need.
“You have brought half the village to Inverene House to work.”
“Aye. And even that number will stagger under the load of work that needs to be done.”
“You must keep your voice low,” she commanded, “lest my father bear. Already he is in the great hall, awaiting a feast.” Under her breath she whispered furiously, “How shall we reward the loyalty of this army of workers, Campbell? We have barely enough food for ourselves. And we cannot promise them protection from invaders.”
“You are wrong, my lady. With new workers, you will soon have enough food to feed the entire village. Why just today, Adair and his men managed to bring down a stag and three does while they worked in the forest. As for payment, you now have a flock of sheep, many of which will soon lamb. I regret that I was forced to promise many of the villagers a payment in lambs as a reward.”
“You promised our lambs? And how will we build our flock if we are forced to give away all our newborns?”
“I promised them only those lambs in excess of the current number in the flock. So, though you will lose some lambs, your own flock will double.”
“And what about protection?” she demanded. “How can all these people be kept safe from invaders?”
“I made them another promise,” he whispered. “That the swords of Inverene House would be raised in protection of all.”
“The swords of Inverene House?” she asked incredulously.
“Aye, my lady.”
“And, whose swords might they be?”
“Mine and yours,” he said with a grin. “And that is more than they had before.”
She thought it over, then reluctantly nodded. “I think, Campbell,” she muttered as she walked by his side into the great hall, “that you are far too generous with your promises.”
“You must admit,” he said in an aside, “that your day has been far easier than those in the recent past.” He looked around at the gleaming wood and the table groaning under the weight of so much food. Instead of a hollow, empty room, the great hall was filled with a dozen or more villagers and their families seated at the tables, their voices raised in a symphony of conversation. “And the rewards far greater.”
Merritt watched as Astra directed a serving wench who carried a tray filled with steaming venison and placed it in front of Upton for his approval. “Aye. My mouth waters thinking about the rewards.”
“Then come. Let us indulge ourselves, for the long days of fasting are over.”
As they took their places at table, Sabina came flouncing into the room, her usually composed face twisted into a mask of anger. Though she tried to hide them, tears glittered on her lashes.
“What is wrong? What has happened?” Merritt asked.
“’Tis the wounded boar in my chambers.”
Hearing, her, Shaw came around the table and caught her hand, searching for fresh bruises. “Has my brother harmed you, my lady?”
“Nay.” She looked down, ashamed of her outburst. “He is not a cruel man. But his brusque manner and harsh demeanor try my patience.”
“I beg your forgiveness,” Shaw said softly. “Sutton is a warrior, more accustomed to the field of battle than to enforced idleness. He has ne’er spent this much time in a pallet since he was a bairn.”
“Aye, a bairn. He behaves like a spoiled bairn,” Sabina muttered. “He moans, and complains, and finds fault with all that I do.”
“If you will be patient another day or more, I will find a way to gently remove my brother from your chambers, my lady, and have him brought to mine.”
Instead of the relief Shaw expected, Sabina looked alarmed. “Nay. You must not.”
Both Shaw and Merritt stared at her in surprise.
“’Twould... open all his wounds and cause bleeding afresh.” Sabina glanced at her sister for support. “I do not wish to prolong his agony, even though he is an evil-tongued Campbell, for that would only mean that he would have to remain here at Inverene even longer. Nay,” she insisted, tossing her head for emphasis, “we must not remove him from his place of repose until he is completely recovered.”
“Then you must assign one of the servants the task of seeing to his needs,” Shaw said. “That will free you of the burden.”
“It is no burden,” Sabina said, reaching a trembling hand toward a goblet of ale. “I do not mind caring for your brother. Truly I do not.”
Shaw felt his respect for the lady Sabina deepen. Without regard to her own comfort, she was pledged to see his brother safely healed.
Merritt, on the other hand, studied her sister with a curious look. Sabina had always been the thoughtful, compassionate one. But she had protested the removal of her patient so vehemently. Too vehemently. Was she, perhaps, feeling something other than compassion for the handsome warrior who slept in her chambers? Had the quick-tempered lout stirred something else in her sister’s heart? Why else would she insist upon caring for him, when she could just as easily assign the task to a servant?
All Merritt’s questions were quickly chased away by the food and warmth and merriment in the great hall. From the blazing fires at either end of the huge room to the food and wine and voices raised in laughter, Merritt felt an overflow of joy mingled with relief. Could it be that the days of hunger and hardship were finally over? Could all the looting and burning and killing become a thing of the past?
She lifted a goblet of wine to her lips and drank deeply. Oh, if only it could be so. She would gladly put all of those troubles behind her forever.
~ ~ ~
Candles sputtered in pools of wax as Shaw made his way along the upper hall to Sabina’s chambers. Below stairs the servants had cleared away the remains of their sumptuous meal, and Sabina had entertained with music from the lute, while Upton, feeling stronger than he had in years, had engaged his younger daughter in a rousing game of chess.
Now the sounds had faded as the servants made their way to their pallets. Only the Lamonts remained below. Shaw had left them to their privacy, to quietly talk over the events of the day among themselves.
He opened the door and paused on the threshold, his gaze on the figure in the mounds of fur.
A servant had assured him that his brother had taken nourishment, emptying a bowl of clear broth, as well as several bites of fish, before giving in to exhaustion. Still, despite his own weariness, Shaw needed to see for himself that Sutton was comfortable. The dreamy smile on his lips was a sure sign that he suffered no pain.
As he knelt beside his brother, the smile deepened. Sutton stirred. When he saw Shaw, his smile vanished. “I thought... Where is the woman?”
Shaw touched a hand to his brother’s brow and was relieved to feel no fever. “She remains below stairs with her family. How do you fare?”
“I weary of this weakness that holds me in its grip. I am a warrior, my brother. I have no use for weakness.”
Shaw smiled. This he could understand. “I know it is vexing. But think of this as a battle. And each day you must fight it, day by painful day, until your strength returns and you are once again the invincible warrior you once were.”
“If that were the only battle I had to fight, I could manage.”
“What other battle is there?”
“There is also the woman.”
“Sabina? I do not understand.”
Sutton drew his brother close and whispered, “I must lie here night after night and watch as she undresses in the dark and slips into her bed. And in the morn I must feign sleep while she goes about her ablutions. But I have seen her as she washes herself and dresses for the day. She is the most perfect female I have ever beheld.”
Shaw started to smile but his brother’s hand tightened on his arm. “’Twould be easy for one such as you to resist such temptation. Women have ne’er been your weakness. But for me it is a taste of the fires of hell to be forced to watch and feel and desire, and be unable to move.”
“Aye.” Shaw patted his hand and got to his feet. “I see now why you vent your frustrations in her presence. But if you could speak more softly to the woman, I would be grateful. For you have been the cause of her tears. And such things upset... other members of her family.”
“I care not for the feelings of these Lamonts. Nor do I care for the woman. She is merely some sort of evil spirit, sent here to test my strength of will.”
“And what is that supposed to mean?”
Sutton passed a hand over his eyes in a gesture of weariness. “I know not. I know only that sometimes, when I look at her, I see an angel of mercy. But it is the fever. And when I truly awaken from this illness, I will see her as she is. A hag. A Lamont. The daughter of our father’s enemy.”
“The Lamonts are not what we thought them to be.”
“What are you saying?”
Shaw merely sighed and said gently, “You must sleep now, for I see that your mind is still befuddled.”
“Aye. Befuddled by the—” At that moment Sabina entered in a swirl of skirts, looking flushed and breathless. “Forgive this late hour. I brought you hot mulled wine to help you sleep.”
“You see, brother?” Sutton muttered.
“Remember what I asked of you. Speak softly,” Shaw said under his breath.
Sabina knelt beside Sutton’s pallet and lifted his head slightly, holding the goblet to his lips. As she did, her dark hair swirled forward, whispering over his naked chest.
He drank deeply, before saying, “Thank you, my lady. That was most kind.”
She seemed surprised and flustered by his unexpected gratitude.
“You are most welcome. I hope the night passes without pain.”
“Sleep now, my brother,” Shaw called. “Good even, my lady.”
He realized at once that neither of them seemed to hear him. With a last glance at them, he closed the door and made his way to his own chambers.
Inside, as he stripped off his clothes, he thought about his brother’s words. ’Twould be easy for one such as you.... Women have ne’er been your weakness. If only he could unburden himself to his twin. But he had no right. Sutton had troubles enough of his own.
His musings were suddenly interrupted as the door opened and Merritt swept in. Her eyes were glowing, her smile radiant.
“My father bested me tonight on the board.”
He tossed aside his shirt and turned to her with a smile. “Why does losing to your father make you happy?”
“Do you not see?” She danced closer and clasped her hands together. “His mind has come back to him. For so long now he could not concentrate on the chess pieces. But tonight he not only played, but he won.”
“Ah. I do see. And I am glad, my lady.”
“It is because of you,” she said, her voice lowering. “Because of the food you provided, and the logs for the fire, and the servants. He has found a reason for coming back to us from that other, more pleasant place where he dwelled for so long in his mind.”
She suddenly became aware of his hair-roughened chest, his arms corded with muscles, the skin-tight breeches that molded his thighs.
Her eyes widened as she realized that she’d caught him undressing.
“Forgive me, Campbell. I did not mean to interrupt—”
“You interrupt nothing. I am not abed yet.”
Color flooded her cheeks. “I was so eager to share my news with you, I did not think.”
As she turned away in embarrassment he touched a hand to her shoulder to stop her. At once they both felt the flare of heat.
His voice lowered. “I’m honored that you would share your happiness with me.”
Just standing here, being touched by him, she knew that there was so much more she wanted to share with him. So very much more.
She stood unmoving, her back to him. “How could I not be happy when I hear once again the sounds of voices and laughter in Inverene House? Is it not a wondrous sound?”
“Aye.” He kept his hand on her shoulder, though the heat was swiftly becoming an inferno.
“And it is all because of you....”
“Shh.” In one smooth motion he lifted the heavy hair from her nape and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. He hadn’t meant to. It had happened so naturally, so spontaneously. But now that he was kissing her, he couldn’t stop.
With a little moan she leaned into him and realized that he was fully aroused. His strong arm came around her to mold her to the length of him, while his other hand twined in her hair and he continued raining kisses along the back of her neck and across her shoulder.
With a sigh of pure pleasure she turned her face slightly. He nibbled at the corner of her lips while his arms enfolded her.
As he moved his lips over her cheek and along the curve of her jaw, he murmured, “Oh, my lady. You feel so good, so right, here in my arms. All day I have tried to avoid you, to deny these feelings I have for you.”
Her heart soared at his admission. It was not really her he’d been avoiding; it was his passionate feelings for her.
With his teeth he tugged at her lobe, before his tongue darted inside her ear to tease and taunt. His big, work-worn hands began to weave their magic as well, cupping the fullness of her breasts, while his thumbs found her already hard nipples.
“Stay the night,” he whispered against her neck, as his mouth trailed moist, hot kisses across the pale line of her shoulder.
She should be able to think of a score of reasons why she must go. But her mind refused to cooperate. All she could do was move in his arms and revel in the pulse of desire that shuddered through her. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Nothing else mattered.
He turned her in his arms and covered her mouth with his. Needs, desires, seemed to explode within them, driving them to the edge of madness.
Lost in their passion, they were aware of nothing except their need for each other.
The door between their chambers was suddenly thrown open, and a woman’s voice called, “Shall I help you undress before I retire, my lady? Oh! Forgive me.”
Two heads came up sharply. Still clinging together, Merritt and Shaw turned toward the servant who stood in the doorway, her hand at her mouth to stifle her gasp of dismay.
It was Merritt who found her voice first. “Aye. Thank you, Dulcie.”
Like a splash of frigid water, she realized the depth of her weakness for this Campbell. Even the approach of a servant could not break through his allure.
The servant turned away, mortified by her lapse.
Merritt swallowed and took a step back, as if to prove that she was still in control of herself. “I will leave you now to your rest.”
“That is indeed wise, my lady.” Shaw caught a handful of her hair and watched through narrowed eyes as it sifted through his fingers. Lowering his gaze to her mouth, he tasted her as surely as if he were still kissing her. “And infinitely better for both of us.”
She turned and fled.
For long minutes after she left, he stood very still, staring at the closed door. He felt cold and empty, and more alone than he had ever known.
At last he walked to the balcony and studied the shadowed loch below. God in heaven, what was he to do? His desire for Merritt Lamont was becoming an obsession.
When, a few minutes later, he poured wine into a goblet, he noted that his hand was still trembling. And his pulse had still not returned to its normal rhythm.
Despite the work he had done this day, he was certain sleep would evade him this night.