Chapter Twenty-Seven
The candles had burned down three hours later but there was enough candlelight left for Daniel to watch Abby while she slept. He admired the delicate silhouette of her form curled up beside him, facing him pillow to pillow.
The inn was quiet, their room dead silent but for the sound of Abby’s breath. He let the slow rhythm of it soothe him. It was too late to think about consequences now. He’d made love to her until he’d exhausted her. Hell, the mere thought of her milky thighs coiled around him made him hard again. He didn’t want to think about England. He had until morning at least.
Her lips were like something out of a dream, delectably full and shaped like a finely cut wooden bow. He was tempted to wake her up so he could kiss her some more.
He let his eyes drift over the pale tresses draping her bare shoulder. He followed the softly illuminated line of her body, down the valley of her waist and back up with the swell of her hip.
He reached out to touch her, his hand shaking a bit.
He coiled a strand of her hair around his finger and watched it shine in the soft light of the moon filtering through the windows. Was that silver he saw? No wonder all the men of Skye had followed them. What man in his right mind wouldn’t kill to keep her safe?
When she opened her eyes, he could do nothing else but smile at her.
“I had a pleasant dream,” she told him in a voice husky with sleep. The cadence of it scalded his blood.
“Did you?” he asked.
She nodded and when she stretched, he used the opportunity to scoop her up in his arms.
“Tell me of it.”
When she smiled at him, he doubted the good of his senses, the strength of his resolve. If Charlotte saw how much he loved this handmaiden—
“ ’Twas aboot my home.” She interrupted his thoughts. “ ’Twould dull yer ears.”
He shook his head and drew her closer, coiling their legs together. “Tell me of it. I want to know more of this place that brings you such happiness and contentment. Like you want for nothing.”
He didn’t expect her to reach up and touch his face. She stared into his eyes, telling him what her lips didn’t. They were doomed. Hell, they were so doomed.
“ ’Twas a clear summer day. I could almost feel the refreshing breeze coming off the lochs. Heather danced on the hill and the sound of children laughing filled the vale. I was chief, and behind me stood my grandfaither, who built the foundation of Camlochlin, and my faither, who protected it.”
“Is Camlochlin a castle?”
She blinked away from her dream and looked at him, anxious and afraid. “Pardon?”
“Camlochlin?” he repeated. “What is it?”
“Och, Daniel.” He could feel her heart pounding against him. “I didna’ mean to—Mayhap I cannot be trusted to protect my clan.”
“What, my love? What is it?”
She leaned up in the bed. “If ye care fer me… If ye care fer me in the smallest way, please never use what I’ve said against my clan. Swear to me.”
“Abigail, I—”
“Swear it, Daniel.”
Of course he would swear it. He’d promise her anything. Why would the name of her home be such a dangerous thing to know anyway? It upset her greatly that she’d said it. He wanted to ease her mind and tell her what she needed to hear. “I will never use anything you tell me against your family, Abby, I vow it.”
That, at least, earned him a smile. He knew by now that talking about her family brought her happiness. He loved the way she smiled. He wanted her to do it often. Even more, he wanted to be one who made her happy. “What about your mother’s father?” he asked, wanting her to relax again in his arms. “You never speak of him.”
She went stiff in his arms. So stiff, he couldn’t feel her breathing. If he didn’t know he loved her already, his actions now convinced him. He laid his instincts aside for her—instincts that had brought him victories on the field more than a dozen times in the past. She was hiding something from him—not only the name of her home, but a secret concerning her family. She’d told him so much about her upbringing and the people in it that he wondered how she’d managed to keep her secret safe in the midst of it all. His instincts told him to get the truth from her, but he didn’t care about truth, or even honor. Love was lord of everything else, and he let have her secret.
Holding her close, he spoke in a quiet voice into her hair. “My love, take heart. I’ve promised not to harm your family, have I not?”
Would he have to remind her about his vow to her the night her father and the rest of the MacGregors arrived at Tarveness? Did she think he wouldn’t keep his word?
Her muscles softened in his arms. “Aye, my love,” she found her breath and whispered, “ye have promised not to harm them. Any of them.”
He thought she might confess her secret now, but she chose to kiss him instead. He didn’t resist her but enjoyed every inch of her mouth with long, silken strokes of his tongue. How would he ever live without her? How could he be with her while the queen lived?
He would think on it when the sun rose, not now. He pushed the thoughts out of his head and pulled her body up over his.
“D’ye intend to leave me lame for the next day or two?” she asked, gazing down at him with a sexy tilt of her mouth.
“Now that you put it that way”—he rubbed her hot center over the length of his cock—“I just might, unless you would have us wait.” He stopped, unwilling to force her if she was in pain.
She giggled like a siren against his ear and then spread her thighs wider and flattened herself atop him. She drove him to the brink of madness, but it was she who moaned with the terrible rapture of his return. He broke through again and again, grinding beneath her, lifting his hips and giving her more of him. She took every inch, raking her nails across his chest and her tongue over his throat. He squeezed her buttocks and guided her up and down while he kissed her, then took her bottom lip between his teeth. Tightening his thighs, he drove himself in deeper until he thought he might split her in two. He groaned and closed his eyes as ecstasy filled his veins and his body prepared to pull out and shoot another stream of his source across the room. He didn’t intend on giving her a child, no matter what offense she took to it. Part of him still clung to reality, for both their sakes. This time though, she took no offense.
Normally, there would be nothing left in him, but she mounted him again and managed to pump every drop from his body. In a burst of abandon, he sat up, pushing her up with her in his lap, attached to him. He took hold of her round breast dangling before his face and suckled her until she panted above him. He curled his arms down her back and, cupping her rump in his hands, guided her to her release and then came with a torrent of thrusts that sapped the last ounce of strength from his body.
He did it inside her, but there was nothing left, and she wouldn’t let him go.
They slept soundly until the break of dawn, when Daniel rose quietly from their bed. He dressed without a sound and left to bring her breakfast while it was still hot.
He found Ferguson in the same place he’d found him the morning before. This time though, Daniel approached him differently. They’d shared drink and laughter last night. It didn’t make them friends, but Daniel wasn’t opposed to smiling at him. After he ordered their meals, he and Ferguson shared one last drink before the innkeeper left to see to the food in the kitchen.
He heard the inn door open and turned at the sound of many men entering. His men. He watched them file inside, filling the tavern. He left his stool and stood.
“Captain Lewis, what are you doing here?”
“He’s escorting me.”
Daniel knew her voice. He watched in disbelief while Charlotte, the Duchess of Blackburn, cut a path through his men and looked up at him when she reached him. He wasn’t happy to see her.
“What are you doing here?” What would take her from the luxuries of the palace and put her in the saddle? “Is it the queen?”
She set her dark eyes toward the stairs. “All is well with Anne,” she told him. “I’m here because I dreamed that you were gone from me for good.” Her gaze fell back to him. “I’ve been searching for you for weeks.”
He couldn’t think clearly. Hell! Charlotte was here! Had Anne told her about Abigail?
He didn’t look toward the stairs. He hoped Abby wasn’t standing at the top. He hoped that when she did appear, she would remember Charlotte’s possessiveness of him and follow his lead.
“You must have dreamed of your lover, Montagu, also then.”
She arched her brow. “Why him?”
“If your dream was prophetic, Your Grace, you would have known about the Earl of Manchester planning my murder. Did you know that he arranged an ambush and killed my men? He thinks me dead, as well.”
As he hoped, she forgot all about the stairs. She clasped his forearm, careless of what anyone standing around them thought. “Richard tried to have you killed?”
“Yes,” he told her. “Did you know of his plans? I would have the truth.”
“Of course I didn’t know, you fool! I would make certain he was lashed and thrown into prison. Why, I could kill him myself right now. But how do you know it was him who planned the ambush? Tell me everything.”
He told her what happened and about the letter Montagu had penned to a dozen Jacobite leaders, beckoning them to Edinburgh. While he finished his tale, he sensed Abby’s presence. She’d awoken and left their room. He didn’t look toward the stairs even after most of the men packing the inn had.
“… and that’s where Hubert died. I stayed to bury him…”
He lost Charlotte’s attention next when she turned toward the stairs. Only then did Daniel look up. It didn’t bode well that Abby illuminated the hall, like moonbeams spilling down the stairs.
He was lost… doomed. He should be hanged for treason.
“Miss Campbell.” He moved to the bottom of the stairs and hoped Abby caught on to who this was facing her. “May I present Her Grace, Charlotte Adler, Duchess of Blackburn.”
Abby paused and darted her eyes to Daniel as she realized who it was. Daniel watched her, holding his breath. What would he do if Charlotte tried to hurt her? “Yer Grace,” she said, her expression colorless. “Daniel has spoken of ye. I didna’ know ye were joining us.”
“Campbell?” Charlotte echoed, turning to fix him with a pointed look. “Does the queen know about this?”
Daniel nodded. “She is to be the queen’s new handmaiden.”
Charlotte lifted a raven brow. “The queen sent you to escort a new handmaiden to the palace? A tad overdone, don’t you think, General?”
Yes. He did. But he’d get to the bottom of it later. He wanted a moment with Abby to warn her about Charlotte. He should have told Abby the duchess claimed to be in love with him. He wished he’d told her the lengths to which Charlotte had gone to make certain he remained available. If she suspected that Abigail had claimed his heart, he didn’t know what she would do.
“My lady,” Abby spoke up.
Seeing the proud tilt of her chin and the now familiar flames in her eyes, Daniel wanted to stop her, to protect her from this viperous woman.
“My kin hail from Argyll and Breadalbane. I also have kin on the isles of Islay and Mull.”
“Ah.” Charlotte’s green eyes twinkled like facets in emeralds as a coy smile played at her lips. “A touch of Scottish pride. How sweet.
“Miss Campbell,” the duchess said softly, while her eyes hardened. “In the future you will refrain from bursting out when the mood strikes you. I don’t care who your relatives are, you are to be the queen’s handmaiden and will be expected to behave with some decorum.”
She returned her attention to Daniel, leaving Abby to boil in her spot. “She’s quite lovely.”
He didn’t answer and watched with as little interest as he could force when Captain Lewis moved slowly toward Abby.
“We’ve much to discuss and I’d rather do it on the road where there are fewer ears to hear.” The duchess touched her fingers to his arm and let them linger there. “Do you owe the innkeeper for one room or two?”
“One,” Daniel told her, still not looking at Abby. He wasn’t afraid for himself but for her. “For her. I stored my things with her and slept down here.”
After Charlotte confirmed his answer with Ferguson Hampton, she beckoned Abby to follow her back to their horses.
Daniel watched them leave, then bid Ferguson farewell. He left the inn and saw Charlotte directing Abby to ride with Captain Lewis near the front of the line.
When Charlotte saw him, she called him to her side in the middle of the line, where it was safest.
No, Daniel thought, reaching her. This wouldn’t do.
“Charlotte,” he said. “Anne obviously has intentions of forming some sort of alliance with Miss Campbell’s family. I’m not about to jeopardize that by leaving my charge in the hands of soldiers. My duty is to protect Miss Campbell. I will ride with her.”
Charlotte didn’t bother masking her anger. She drew her lips tight over her spacey teeth. “Bring her to this position then. I want time with you and I won’t have that brat steal it from me.”
“She’s is stealing nothing, Duchess,” he assured her with a bland smirk. “And you’ll watch how you speak to her. If calamity befalls her, we could have more than a thousand men at the palace doors.”
Her soulless eyes widened and she placed her hand at her chest. “The palace?”
“Yes. I met a group of them—her family. They are quite”—he let his gaze skim over her breasts—“uncouth.”
It was difficult to tell if Charlotte paled as his innuendo became clear to her. Her skin was naturally milky white, not pure as snow like Abby’s complexion, but rather bloodless.
“I will do my best to conceal my displeasure of her,” she conceded. “Go on then, get her and hurry back.”
Daniel obliged and as he rode toward the front of the line, he was relieved that at least Charlotte wouldn’t push Abby into a battle. He saw her a few feet away, her flaxen tendrils blowing behind her. What was his fighting Highland lass thinking? Thrust into Charlotte’s company after a night of… She hadn’t looked at him—at least not when he risked a glance or two to her.
When he reached her, he dismissed Captain Lewis, then moved his mount closer to hers. “We need to speak.”
“The Duchess of Blackburn is yer Charlotte,” Abby said hollowly. “She is the queen’s dearest friend.”
“No.”
“All she has to do is talk Anne into refusing all my requests, or punishing me… Or you and the queen will—”
Daniel shook his head. “I, not the duchess, have the queen’s ear, Abby. She will bring you no harm. But the duchess will. I have no proof or I would have arrested her long before this, but she has already destroyed the lives of a pair of women I took interest in. Do you understand what I’m saying? If she discovers that we were intimate, she will try to get rid of you.”
Abby raised her cool gaze to his and he felt the finality in it. “Then, General, ye had best return to her and leave me in Captain Lewis’s hands from today on, fer I fear I could never mask my feelings fer ye.”
“Miss Campbell,” he said sternly, cantering his horse in front of hers, then turning to block her progress. “If you want to make it back to Skye alive and have a chance to lead your clan, you will.”