“So, yer father was more involved in the running of Maclean ere yer mother’s death,” Conran commented as he surveyed the chessboard.
“Aye,” Evina murmured. “Da did no’ care about much for a while after Mother died. Truth be told, neither did I,” she admitted wryly. “We both moped about like a couple o’ jugglers who’d lost their balls. It, o’ course, affected everyone at Maclean. They were all grieving their mistress as well. Mother was well-loved by our people.”
Conran grunted in understanding.
“But then Gavin arrived,” Evina said with a smile.
“And?” Conran prompted, glancing up with interest when she fell silent. He’d spent the last five days since Evina woke in her company, trying to win her over. They’d played chess, Nine Men’s Morris and various other games, chatting lightly as they did. But this was the first time she’d opened up about her past again and what had shaped her. It was the first sign she was relaxing around him and beginning to trust him.
While Conran was very aware that his time was running out to convince her that marriage had more to offer than their rather disappointing experience in the clearing, he’d refused to rush things. He was glad he had. Once she’d started talking, even just about day-to-day things and such, he’d found Evina was intelligent and had a good sense of humor. He was actually coming to like her, and see their upcoming marriage as more than a duty, or even a challenge. Conran was beginning to think they might suit each other rather well.
“Well, at first ’twas a bit o’ a trial,” she admitted with amusement. “I had little experience o’ raising a bairn, and he was only two to me ten. But Tildy was there to help and I got the hang o’ it. Things improved. Besides, ’tis hard to mope about when there is a child gadding around,” Evina said with a faint smile. “Gavin was always laughing and rushing this way or that. He brought life back to Maclean. Even Da found some interest in what was going on again and started to come around.”
Conran smiled. “Aye, children can be a blessing that way. Me nieces can drive me sister mad, but they have her and her husband wrapped around their little fingers. The rest o’ us too. There’s nothing I would no’ do for the little buggers,” he admitted wryly.
“Ye’d welcome a child, then?” Evina asked.
“Oh, aye, I’d like a passel o’ them,” he said at once, his attention split between the game and the conversation . . . until he became aware of the silence his answer brought on. Glancing up quickly, he noted her expression and recalled that she might not welcome making those children . . . yet. He hadn’t shown her the pleasure that could be found in the making.
“Evi,” Conran said quietly. “I ken yer first experience was no’ a wholly pleasing one, but the first time is often difficult fer the lass, and I fear I did no’ go as slowly and with as much care as I would have had I kenned ye were so inexperienced. I promise ye though, the next time will no’ be like that.”
Evina flushed and waved his words away as she lowered her face to stare at the chessboard. She obviously didn’t want to discuss this, and it wasn’t the first time she’d pushed the subject away. It had been skirted several times over the past couple of days. Anytime anything was said that came anywhere even close to the subject of sex, or the marriage bed, she shied away from it like a horse from an abusive owner bearing a crop. It made him feel horrible. She wasn’t a weak woman. To react like this, she must have experienced a great deal of pain with the breaching. He needed to get her past that.
“Evi,” Conran said quietly, and when she reluctantly raised her gaze to him, he said, “I’d like to prove that to ye.”
She blinked at the words, and then her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying, and she started to shake her head.
“I promise I’ll stop the minute ye ask me to, but ye liked it when I kissed ye, did ye no’?”
Evina paused, uncertainty entering her expression.
“What if I just kiss ye, then, to start?” he suggested solemnly.
“Just kissing?” she asked, eyes narrowed warily.
Conran could tell that she was tempted. That was a relief. At least he knew she’d enjoyed his kisses. He’d thought so, but after the mess he’d made of the breaching, he hadn’t even been sure about that.
“Just kissing. I promise,” he assured her. “I’ll no’ even touch ye with me hands except to hold ye.”
Evina considered Conran solemnly, tempted by the suggestion. She hadn’t been allowed from her sickbed yet, so she’d sat up and he’d stacked furs and bolsters behind her to support her, and they’d set the board on her lap. Conran had then settled on the side of the bed, one foot on the floor next to the bed, and the other curled under the upper leg of the first as he faced her. It left her unable to escape his gaze in any way except to drop her eyes to the chessboard on her lap as she considered his suggestion. She had enjoyed his kisses. But that’s what had led to the other stuff that had led to the pain, she reminded herself. Her mind immediately argued that he was promising kissing only, and that might be nice.
Biting her lip, Evina struggled with herself briefly, and then gave one very small nod. It was all that was needed. His breath leaving him on a relieved sigh, Conran leaned across the chessboard, and pressed his lips gently to hers.
Evina remained still at first, just enjoying the featherlight brush of his lips over hers, but then his mouth pressed more firmly, and his tongue slid out. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth to him and sighed as he filled her. It was as nice as she recalled, his tongue exploring and stirring a fire in her belly that had her moaning and easing forward, trying to get closer.
She was vaguely aware of the chessboard and pieces sliding from her lap and toppling off the bed to the floor as her arms crept around his shoulders, but Evina paid it little attention. Conran had all of that. Or his lips did, and the things he was doing with them as his mouth slanted over hers, first one way and then the other.
When his mouth broke from hers, Evina opened her eyes and stiffened slightly, but he was pressing kisses across her cheek. She gasped in surprise and shifted as his lips reached her ear and sent new swirls of excitement spinning through her. Conran’s mouth moved down her neck next, and he kissed, nibbled and scraped the sensitive skin lightly with his teeth.
Evina moaned and let her head fall back, her hands moving to cup his head now as he made his way down to the top of her tunic. She shuddered when he ran his tongue lightly along it, aware that she was panting, and beginning to shift her legs restlessly, and then his mouth lifted again. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, expecting and even eager to have him kiss her lips again, but instead his mouth came down on her uninjured breast, finding the nipple and beginning to suckle it through the quickly dampening cloth of her tunic.
“Oh!” Evina gasped, her hands clenching in his hair.
Conran lifted his head at once to glance up. Voice soft, he murmured soothingly, “’Tis all right, I’ll no’ touch ye. Kissing only.”
“Aye, kissing,” she breathed, and then bit her lip as he urged the loose neckline of her tunic off one shoulder with his mouth. When it dropped away to reveal the breast he’d been kissing through the gown, Conran claimed her nipple again, this time without the damp cloth in the way.
“Oh, God,” Evina cried, arching into the caress, and then shaking her head at the unbearable pleasure that coursed through her as he took most of her breast into his mouth and let it slowly slide out, his teeth lightly scraping the tender nipple as it escaped. He didn’t claim it again though, but instead laved the underside of her breast and then began to kiss his way down her stomach.
Panting with mounting excitement, Evina glanced down with confusion to see that the other shoulder of her tunic had somehow slipped off her shoulder. The tunic now lay around her waist, leaving her bare from her midriff up. Even as she noticed that, Conran lifted his head and kissed her lips again. This time his mouth was demanding and the kiss almost violent with need. Evina responded in kind, her arms tightening around his shoulders as he tugged away the pillows and furs propping her up and urged her to lie back.
The moment Evina was lying flat, he tore his mouth from hers and made another pass down her body, stopping to lavish her breast with attention, before continuing down her stomach. Conran’s kissing and nibbling stopped where the tunic and furs started, but then he tugged the furs aside.
Evina stiffened and lifted her head then, but he returned to kissing her lower stomach, and then ran his tongue along the top of where the tunic had gathered, and she gasped and jerked beneath him as her muscles jumped in response. When he went lower though and pressed his mouth against the loose material gathered between her legs, she stiffened, and opened her eyes, struggling with an urge to scramble away from him until he blew his breath on her, warming the material he was dampening, and the eager flesh beneath.
Swallowing, Evina caught her hands in the linen on either side of her and waited, breathlessly, and then gasped in surprise when his mouth dropped lower to press kisses to her knees below the hem of the tunic. When he began to trail kisses up one thigh, pushing the tunic ahead as he went, Evina cried out, and shifted her legs as she began to tremble. By the time Conran’s mouth reached her core, she was strung as taut as a bow and tugging viciously at the linen. But when his mouth settled there and he began to kiss her most intimately, she cried out and rose halfway up on the bed, her hands reaching for his head.
Conran didn’t try to stop her, but he didn’t halt what he was doing either. Ignoring the fingers that caught in his hair and tugged, he pressed deeper, his mouth sliding between her folds to lash her sensitive flesh with his tongue.
Evina cried out and dropped back to lie flat on the bed again. Eyes wide open, she stared blindly up at the bed drapes overhead, her body shimmying under his attention as he kissed and licked and teased, whipping her into a frenzy of desperate need. Evina was hardly aware of what she was doing when she raised her knees, planted her feet flat on the bed on either side of him and pressed down, lifting her hips up into this new pleasure. Her body was responding of its own accord, seeking the tongue that was rasping across her aching flesh, and the lips nibbling and sucking eagerly. But when his tongue slid out, pressing into her there as it would if he were kissing her mouth, Evina screamed and bucked as her body convulsed with the pleasure she’d experienced so briefly before.
This time it was not brief, and there was no pain to follow. Conran continued to lash, suckle and nip, driving her over the edge again and again, until she lost her mind a little. Literally. By the time he stopped, she was a shuddering, mindless mass in the bed, aware of little else but the way her body was pulsing in the aftermath.
When Evina regained awareness, it was to find herself curled up against his chest in the bed, Conran still fully dressed, and her with her tunic tangled around her waist leaving everything else bare but for the bandage on her one breast, held in place by a strip of linen that ran along the tops of her breasts and around behind her and back and another along the bottom of her breasts. She was lying on her uninjured side, with her leg thrown over both of his, and his arms were around her as he rubbed her back soothingly, careful to avoid putting any pressure on her bandaged wound.
At first, Evina just lay there in his arms, unsure what to do or say. What she’d just experienced had been . . . well, it had been stunning, amazing, mind-shattering. But now she was more than a little embarrassed and unsure how to proceed. The man had just . . . and she had . . .
Good Lord, that brief bit of pleasure she’d experienced in the clearing had been nothing next to this. It had been like a peck on the cheek compared to a proper, full-mouth kiss with caressing hands and grinding bodies. She had never imagined the marriage bed could be as wonderful as that, and wondered what other pleasures there were to enjoy there.
“I should let ye rest.”
Evina stilled at those soft words, unsure how to respond. Before she figured it out, he had eased her from his arms and was sliding out from beneath her to stand up.
“I’ll visit ye again later, after ye’ve rested,” Conran murmured, already heading for the door.
Evina watched him go silently, her wide eyes on the way his plaid was tented in front. It seemed she hadn’t been the only one excited by that, just the only one who had found her release.
Conran didn’t encounter anyone in the hall on his way from Evina’s room to his own, and was grateful for it. Feasting on her body had been a delight. Her gasps and moans, and mewls of excitement and pleasure, had stirred a matching excitement and desire in him. The way she’d writhed and shuddered under his ministrations had been almost maddening, and his body had urged him to pin her down and sink himself into the moist depths he’d been tasting, but he’d managed to ignore those urgings and keep his promise. Only just. Now he was as hard as a sword under his plaid, his cock aching with the need to find its own release. Something he intended on seeing to as soon as he reached his room. Or at least that had been the plan, he acknowledged as he entered his room to find Aulay there, lounging on his bed with his hands intertwined behind his head.
“Ah! There ye are,” Aulay said, sitting up and slipping his feet to the floor as Conran paused in his open doorway. “I suspected ye’d be along soon enough when I heard Evina cry out. The girl has a fine set of lungs on her, and ye were obviously showing her the benefits o’ the marriage bed as I suggested. Those screams did no’ sound pained or angry.”
Conran closed his eyes on a sigh. It appeared he wouldn’t be tending his aching cock any time soon.
“Although, from the looks o’ ye, ye did no’ show her how the mating itself could be pleasurable, but stuck to pleasuring her alone.”
Conran’s eyes popped open and he noted without surprise that his brother was eyeing him below the waist with a combination of amusement and sympathy.
“No’ got that far yet, eh?” he asked.
“Nay,” Conran growled, moving forward again and pushing the door closed behind him. “What did ye want, Aulay?”
“Just to warn ye that Saidh and Greer arrived while ye were about yer business with Evina,” he said solemnly. “I expected them to be the last to arrive, but Geordie rode out to pass on the news o’ yer nuptials and they left at once to ride here with him, so ye may no’ have the two weeks as I first thought.”
“What?” Conran asked with alarm.
Aulay shrugged apologetically and stood up. “I’m sure Dougall and Niels and their wives’ll no’ be far behind, so ye may want to speed up yer efforts with Evina while ye can.”
“Damn,” Conran breathed as his oldest brother left the room. He’d thought he still had a week and a couple days to manage the situation. It seemed likely though that if Saidh and Greer had already managed to get here, he only had a couple of days left, at best. He seriously needed to move matters along with Evina.
He’d take the next step after sup this evening, Conran thought grimly. From kissing to touching. But first he needed to tend to himself or he’d be hard-pressed not to move it along faster than he planned.
“Lady MacDonnell seems an interesting woman. Laird Conran’s sister, Saidh, married Greer MacDonell,” Tildy explained when Evina looked confused, and then continued, “She seems a lot like you. No’ dainty and fussy like a lot o’ the ladies o’ the nobility. She carries a sword as ye do, and I’m quite sure I spotted the bottom o’ braies peeking out from under her skirts as she sat down. She asked to come see ye, and I said I’d check to see if ye were awake. So . . .” Tildy paused, and raised her eyebrows. “Are ye up to meeting yer soon-to-be sister-in-law?”
Evina opened her mouth, closed it again and then sighed and started to sit up.
“Let me help ye, lass.” Tildy rushed forward at once, but Evina waved her away.
“I can manage, Tildy. Thank ye,” she murmured, shifting the pillows and furs back into place behind her back to lean against. Her wound wasn’t as painful as it had been at first and her breathing was much improved. She was actually feeling well enough that she was beginning to chafe at being stuck in her bed all the day long, and was thinking she may go below stairs the next day. Or mayhap tonight for the sup. If they had company, she should really make an effort to be a proper hostess.
“Ye’re looking better,” Tildy commented out of the blue, and when Evina glanced at the maid with surprise, she said, “Ye’ve got some color in yer cheeks and seem more . . . I do no’ ken . . . relaxed?” she suggested.
Evina felt her cheeks heat up at the words, knowing exactly what had brought about the color and her relaxed state. Conran’s “kisses.” Dear God, the man was . . . well, one hell of a kisser. Her body was still giving off little intermittent pulses of something that wasn’t quite pleasure now, but like an aftershock, and her limbs were all shaky and quivering still. Yet it had to be a quarter hour since Conran had left.
“I’ll bring up some mead, and mayhap some pastries fer the two o’ ye if Cook has any, shall I?” Tildy suggested as she watched Evina rearrange her furs to cover the tunic she’d redonned just before Tildy had arrived.
“Aye, I suppose,” Evina murmured, frowning as she felt an unusual nervousness beginning to creep over her. She had no idea why she was suddenly nervous. Evina had never before been a shy lass when it came to meeting people. But then this was Conran’s sister, who might actually become her sister-in-law if things continued as they were going. Conran’s “kisses” had gone a long way toward convincing her that perhaps the marriage bed was not the trial and chore she’d thought it must be after her experience in the field. She wasn’t completely convinced, but truly, she was leaning that way.
“I’ll go tell her ye’re awake and happy to see her,” Tildy announced once Evina was situated.
“Thank ye.” Evina managed a smile, and watched the woman leave, then sat and watched the door anxiously. She didn’t have long to wait. Conran’s sister must have been waiting in the hall, for it seemed that Tildy had barely closed the door behind her before it opened again and a beautiful, dark-haired woman swaggered in. That was the only way to describe it. Saidh Buchanan MacDonnell did not take mincing, little, ladylike steps as most noble females did. She strutted into the room, hips swaying, and the sword strapped to her waist swaying with them.
“Ye must be Conran’s Evina!” was her greeting, and it was accompanied by a wide grin. “I’m here to give ye all the dirt on him, so ye can blackmail him as needs be.”
Evina’s eyes widened at the words, and she reached up weakly to pat the other woman’s back when she stopped at the bedside and bent to hug her.
“Welcome to the family, sister.”
“Oh.” Evina forced a smile and nodded as the woman straightened. This didn’t seem to be the time to tell her that she hadn’t totally made up her mind to marry Conran. Not that she’d probably tell her anyway. She wouldn’t tell anyone if she decided not to marry him. She’d pack her few belongings in a bag, saddle her horse and leave. Evina had no idea where she’d go, but she wasn’t going to marry if she wasn’t ready and if she wasn’t sure the man would not abuse her. She’d cut her hair, bind her breasts, dress as a man and work as a mercenary if she had to. She could handle a sword as well as every man here at Maclean.
Well, if she was pregnant that could be a problem, but she’d worry about that later. At the moment, she just had to get through this visit.
“I ken ye’re no’ sure about marrying Conran, and are no’ convinced o’ the pleasures o’ the marriage bed, but I promise, while the first time is painful, after that ’tis much better.”
Evina stiffened, her eyes shooting to Saidh’s face with shock.
“Ye can no’ keep a secret in a castle, Evi,” she said gently, and then asked, “Is it okay if I call ye Evi?”
“Aye,” she muttered, wondering if she’d heard Conran refer to her as Evi. He was the only one who called her that.
“Good.” Beaming, she dropped to sit in the chair next to the bed, and added, “I also understand ye’ve some fears about the husband’s right to beat ye and such, and I want to assure ye, Conran would ne’er beat a woman. None o’ me brothers ever would. And I can say that with complete certainty, because if they were o’ the temperament to beat women, I’d ha’e been beaten long ago, several times over.”
“Conran said the same thing,” Evina told her with amusement.
“Well, then, ye ken ’tis true,” Saidh assured her. “I promise, no matter how hard I punched or kicked them, and how badly I hurt them, no’ one o’ me brothers has retaliated in kind and hurt me back.”
Evina’s eyebrows rose incredulously. “Ye punched and kicked them?”
“I’ve done worse than that,” Saidh assured her. “Someone had to keep those big idiots in line.”
Evina just stared at her, thinking she believed she might like Saidh a good deal.
“And I’d do it again if I ever heard one o’ them had hurt their wife or any other woman,” she assured her. “I promise. If Conran ever missteps, ye tell me, and I shall take care o’ him fer ye.”
“Or help me take care o’ him,” Evina said quietly because, really, she wasn’t the sort to stand by and take abuse without fighting back.
Saidh grinned. “I think I’m going to like ye, Evi.”
Evina smiled, the first true smile she’d given her since the woman had arrived in her room. She glanced to the sword at her waist, noting that, like hers, it was a true sword made to suit her size, and asked, “Are ye really wearing braies under yer gown?”
“Aye,” Saidh admitted, looking slightly surprised at the question.
“Tildy mentioned she thought she saw braies peeking out as ye got up from the table,” Evina explained, and then admitted, “I wear them too. ’Tis much easier to ride astride with them on.”
“Oh, aye,” Saidh agreed enthusiastically. “And riding astride is much better than riding sidesaddle.”
“I agree,” Evina assured her. “Besides, ’tis hard to engage in battle practice in the yard in a skirt. I usually—”
“Tie it up around yer waist to keep it out o’ yer way?” Saidh suggested, and then grinned when Evina nodded. Shaking her head, she breathed, “Oh, Evi . . . we are going to be grand friends.”
Evina beamed back and nodded. “Aye, I believe we will.”
They were still grinning at each other when a knock sounded at the door.
“Come in,” Evina called as they both glanced toward the door. She wasn’t terribly surprised when Conran entered, followed by two servants, one with a tray of food in hand, and one carrying a pitcher and two mugs. He’d had dinner with her each night since the attack, and this was the routine.
“Sister.” Conran didn’t appear surprised to see Saidh there, and smiled at her as he held the door for the maids. “They are serving the sup below and yer husband is fretting ye’ll miss it.”
Saidh rolled her eyes and then turned to Evina and advised, “Be prepared, once ye’re with child, ye’re husband will become a fretting Fiona. At least me Greer is. All he does is natter at me to eat more, sleep more, ride less and stay out o’ the practice yard. ’Tis most annoying.”
Evina blinked, her hand moving unconsciously to her stomach.
Fortunately, Conran quickly drew Saidh’s attention, saying, “Fretting Fiona? I can no’ wait to call him that.” And then he blinked and asked with dismay, “Ye’re no’ with child again, are ye?”
“Shut it,” Saidh said with a scowl as she got to her feet. Moving past him toward the door, she announced, “I like Evi. Ye’d best be good to her, else I’ll come to Maclean and kick yer arse.”
Conran just shook his head with irritation and muttered, “Go eat yer sup.”
“I mean it,” Saidh assured him as she sailed out the door with the maids following.
He grimaced, but merely waited until the door had closed behind them and then turned to offer Evina an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I tried to prevent her coming up, but she was determined.”
“’Tis fine. I like her,” Evina said honestly.
“I suspected ye would,” he said wryly, moving to the table by the fire where the maids had set the trays. Conran stopped at the tray with the pitcher and mugs on it and poured the golden liquid into both mugs. Setting the pitcher back, he then turned to carry the mugs toward the bed, but Evi shook her head and pushed her furs aside. “Why do we no’ sit at the table tonight?”
Conran paused, uncertainty crossing his face. “Are ye certain?”
“Aye,” she assured him as she wrapped the plaid Tildy had set on her bedside table around herself. “I am growing heartily sick o’ being stuck in this bed. I think I’d like to sit at table, if only up here.”
“Wait. Let me help ye, then,” he said, hurrying to return the mugs to the tray and then moving back to the bed just in time to take Evina’s arm as she got to her feet. “Take it slow,” Conran cautioned. “And tell me if ye need to stop to rest.”
Evina snorted. “The table is across the room, m’lord, no’ across the bailey. I think I can manage it.”
“Ye’re recovering from a nasty wound, Evi,” he said solemnly. “Ye’re no’ as strong as ye like to think ye are just now.”
Evina didn’t respond. Mostly because after the few steps they’d covered, she already didn’t have the air to speak, and her legs were beginning to tremble, she realized. Good Lord, she was weak as a kitten, Evina thought with dismay.
“Are ye all right?” Conran asked with concern.
Pressing her lips firmly together, Evina nodded. She would make it to the table, or kill herself trying. Obviously, lying about for so long had weakened her. It was her chest that had been hurt, not her legs.
Much to Evina’s relief, she did make it to the table, though she was leaning heavily on Conran’s supporting arm by the time they got there. Still, she’d made it. That was something anyway, she told herself as he pulled out a chair and settled her in it.
“Hungry?” Conran asked as he took the second chair.
Evina nodded, still too shaky and breathless to speak yet. Much to her relief, Conran didn’t fuss about her weakened state, but simply went about shifting one of the trenchers on the tray in front of her, and the other in front of himself, and started to eat. It took a couple of minutes for Evina to feel recovered enough that she attempted to eat. Her hand was still trembling a bit, but she managed to get a bite of cheese to her mouth without dropping it, so considered that a victory. After chewing and swallowing, she asked, “What was it like growing up with so many brothers and a sister?”
Conran seemed surprised by the question, and paused to think before answering. “Noisy.”
“Noisy?” she asked with amusement.
“Aye. Noisy, chaotic, fun . . . sometimes annoying as hell, but mostly wonderful,” he admitted with a smile, and explained, “None of us ever lacked for someone to play with, and we always had each other to depend on.”
Evina felt a touch of envy at his words. She and her brother had been little more than a year apart in age. She’d loved him dearly, and they’d been very close. Both of them had trailed their father around on his daily tasks when he was home, and Daniel had never let the fact that she was a girl interfere with play. Much to their mother’s distress, they’d run about the bailey playing at war, fighting with wooden swords and wrestling in the dirt and grass like a pair of “savages” as she’d described it. But then he’d died, and she’d been alone. Evina supposed her mother could have tried to rein her in then, but Lady Maclean hadn’t had the heart to, at least not for the first year after his death. Her mother had known how much Daniel’s death was paining Evina. She’d let her continue to trail her father around during the day. But when the negotiations began regarding bringing Evina’s betrothed to Maclean for his training, and the subject of holding the wedding early came up, her mother had been almost in a panic.
It had taken a year for the men to hammer out an agreement and get permission from the king and the church for the wedding. Her mother had spent that time trying to turn Evina into a proper lady. Mairi Maclean had been kind and understanding, but firm, and Evina had learned a new respect for her mother. Where before she’d seen her as the weaker of her parents, she’d learned how smart and hardworking she actually was. The two of them had become quite close over that year, and her mother had succeeded in her task of making her more ladylike, at least on the surface. But then she too had died and Evina had felt lost.
She wondered now if having more than just her brother as a sibling wouldn’t have helped with the death of both Daniel and her mother. She was sure it wouldn’t have made those losses any less painful, but it might have made it easier for her to carry on. She would have had some support at least.
It mattered little, Evina supposed as she took a sip of honey mead. She hadn’t had siblings to cushion the loss. Swallowing the sweet beverage, she set the drink back on the table, and said, “Tell me about yer brothers and sister.”
Conran considered the request briefly, and then said, “Well, Aulay is the eldest. He runs Buchanan and our people.”
Evina nodded, and asked, “His scar? Was he injured as a child?”
“Nay. As an adult. In battle some years back,” he said quietly, and then added, “We lost our brother Ewan in the same battle. He was Aulay’s twin, born just minutes after him.”
“That must have been hard for him,” Evina murmured.
“Aye,” Conran agreed solemnly, and then cleared his throat and continued, “And then there is the second oldest of us, Dougall. He’s much like Aulay in temperament, stern and no’ much o’ a talker. But he has a way with horses, and bred and raised them ere meeting his wife, Murine. He still does despite being laird of Carmichael now.”
“I’ve heard of his horses. They are supposed to be the best in Scotland.”
“Aye, they’re fine beasts,” Conran assured her, and then continued. “Niels is the next oldest. His interest was in sheep and wool ere he met and married Edith Drummond.”
“And does he still raise sheep and make wool despite marriage to Edith?” Evina asked before sliding a bit of chicken into her mouth.
“Only for the people of Drummond,” Conran said with a smile. “He moved his sheep there and has fresh plaids made for every member of Drummond twice a year.”
Swallowing the food in her mouth, Evina said with approval, “That’s kind of him.”
“Aye. Especially considering the coin he could get selling the wool elsewhere,” Conran said seriously.
Smiling faintly, Evina asked, “And who is the next oldest?”
“Me,” Conran admitted wryly. “And before ye ask, I’ve no special skills. I do no’ have a way with horses or sheep or any other beastie.”
“But ye’re a fine hand at healing,” Evina pointed out. He was the one who had healed her father and tended her own wound, and had done a fine job at both.
“Nay. Rory is the healer. I just picked up a thing or two from helping him. Just as I learned a bit about horses from helping Dougall, and about sheep from helping Niels.” He shrugged. “I ken a bit about many subjects.”
“Which would make ye a good laird,” Evina murmured thoughtfully. For a laird who had wide and varied skills and knowledge was surely better than one who knew only how to run a keep.
“Mayhap,” Conran said with a shrug, and then asked, “Would ye like more? Are ye still hungry?”
Evina glanced down at her trencher, surprised to find it was empty. The short walk to the table had apparently done her appetite good at least. Hopefully it was the first step in rebuilding her strength too, she thought as she shook her head, and murmured, “No, thank ye.”
Nodding, Conran took her trencher and set it back on the tray with his own. He then picked up the tray and headed for the door to set it out in the hall for one of the maids to get without disturbing them, and asked, “Would ye like to play a game at the table? Or return to yer bed now?”
Evina hesitated. She was feeling a little tired now that she’d eaten, but wasn’t eager to return to her bed, so in the end said, “Here is fine,” as he returned to the table.
Conran merely nodded and settled in his seat, but then glanced around and suggested, “Or we could sit on the fur in front of the fireplace. We could even have a small fire if ye like. There is a chill in the air tonight. I think a storm is coming down from the north.”
“That might be nice,” Evina said, glancing toward the fireplace. She’d noticed it was a touch chilly, but had assumed it was just her, something to do with her still recovering from her injury.
Conran was up at once and moving to start a small fire, and it was indeed small, a couple of logs and a few leaves to start it. While he was busy with that, Evina stood and moved the few feet to the fur, relieved when she managed to get there without becoming more than a little breathy.
“Here.”
She glanced to him with surprise when he was suddenly beside her, offering his hand to aid her in lowering herself to the fur.
“Thank ye,” Evina breathed as she arranged the plaid she’d wrapped around her shoulders cape-style so that it covered her properly.
“What would ye like to play tonight?” Conran asked, still standing.
“Whatever ye wish,” she decided, not really caring one way or another.
“We did no’ finish our chess game. Shall we try it again?” he asked.
Evina felt her cheeks heat up and closed her eyes briefly as she recalled why exactly they hadn’t finished the game, and what he’d done to her. She’d been nervous about meeting him again after his leaving earlier, concerned that she would be embarrassed by what they’d done and her responses when he returned. But with Saidh there, she hadn’t even thought about it, until now.
“If ye like,” she said in a strangled voice.
“Evi?”
She could hear the concern in his voice, but didn’t lift her head or open her eyes. “Aye?”
“Lass.”
Evina gave a start when she felt his hand brush her cheek and jerked her head up, her eyes blinking wide.
“Are ye upset?” Conran asked with concern.
“Nay.”
“Ye’re embarrassed,” he realized, and then shook his head. “Ye’ve no reason to be embarrassed with me.”
“I’m no’,” she lied.
“Nay?” Conran asked, a smile curving his beautiful mouth, and then he ran a finger lightly over her lips and asked, “Did ye enjoy our kissing this afternoon?”
Now her face was on fire, but Evina raised her chin and said honestly, “Aye.”
“I did too,” he admitted. “Would ye like me to do it again?”
She stilled at the offer, shocked to feel her body respond to just the suggestion. Her breasts tightened, the nipples hardening, and she felt a liquid heat pool low in her belly as if he was already kissing her. Swallowing, she raised her chin a little higher and nodded. “Aye.”
“I’d like that too,” Conran said, his voice becoming raspy. “May I touch ye too this time?”
Evina blinked. Touching? She’d enjoyed his touch and caresses in both her father’s room and the field. It was just the breaching she hadn’t liked, so she nodded again, her body beginning to tingle at the thought of what he might do to her.
“Thank ye.” Conran leaned forward as he murmured the words, his breath brushing her lips, and Evina was just letting her eyes droop closed in anticipation of his kissing her when she felt his hand at her breast. Giving a start, she pushed her eyes open again even as his lips covered hers.
Sighing, Evina leaned into him, her mouth opening before he even requested entrance. Conran accepted the invitation, his tongue sweeping into her mouth as he palmed, squeezed and then caressed her breast.
Evina wasn’t really aware of either of them moving or his urging her back to lie on the furs; she was just suddenly there, her arms wrapped around his neck as he leaned over her, kissing and caressing her. This time it was his fingers that traveled her body rather than his mouth, and in some ways, Evi enjoyed this more, because it meant he never stopped kissing her. She didn’t protest when she felt him tugging her tunic open to free her breast to his touch, Instead, Evina sighed into his mouth and arched her back, lifting her breast upward in an invitation he accepted at once. She moaned as his rough hand covered her breast and he began to toy with the erect nipple.
Her eyes opened when Conran broke their kiss to lean up though, and Evina watched through droopy eyes as he peered down at her. His face was a mixture of shadow and the dancing light from the fire, and she caught her breath at how beautiful he was even as Conran murmured, “Beautiful,” in a raspy voice.
The word made her glance down at herself to see that his body was casting her in shadow from the dim light creeping through her open shutters, while the fire was painting her with the same dancing light on his face.
He shifted slightly then, moving lower to claim her eager nipple with his lips, and she let her head fall back to the floor and moaned as he laved and suckled at it. When his hand moved down to her leg, she stiffened, but he immediately released her nipple to murmur reassuringly, “Just touching.”
Evina bit her lip, but then forced herself to relax, and he rewarded her with another kiss, this one demanding all of her attention as he thrust his tongue between her lips and reignited her briefly dampened passions. When his hand began to move up her outer leg, she simply enjoyed it, secure in the promise that it would be just touching.
She had enjoyed his touching her in the field, but that had been nothing next to his touching now. His hand moved up her outer leg, around to her behind and squeezed briefly, before continuing up her back and then around to slide across her stomach, pushing her tunic before it as he’d done while “kissing” her earlier. Evina sighed and moaned by turn as his hand moved over her, and then cried out into his mouth when it slid back down, not stopping until it was between her legs.
Conran caught the sound and deepened his kisses as he began to caress her there, his fingers dancing across her damp flesh with a deft skill that soon had her raising her knees and shifting her hips into the touch. When his finger slid into her, she stiffened, and waited for the pain, but there was none. Still, she remained frozen for a moment, just experiencing his touch as his finger remained in her and he continued to caress the center of her excitement with his thumb, and then she couldn’t bear it anymore and began to shift her hips again, pushing back as he stoked her fire.
When her pleasure overtook her, Evina cried out into Conran’s mouth, but as before he didn’t stop. He continued to caress her, driving her back to the pinnacle again until she was crying out once more, her body shuddering with another release, and then another, and yet another, until she was sobbing her pleasure and clinging to him as if he were the only safe haven in a storm-tossed sea.