Her eyes burned in the morning. Moira rubbed them and forced herself to sit up. A scent teased her nose, and she drew in a deep breath then scanned the room.
“Good morning, Lady Matheson.” A young girl offered Moira a soft smile as she opened one of the window shutters, spilling bright morning light into the chamber. “Asgree had the cook mull ye some cider. It will help wake ye.”
The cider was on the bedside table, but Moira didn’t reach for it. She hugged the bedding close to hide her nude body.
“I am Alanna, and Asgree sent me to look after ye, since ye have none of yer own maids with ye.” Alanna picked up Moira’s undergown and wrinkled her nose. “It was wise of ye to discard this before crawling into bed. The sheets would have been ruined, and that would have been a shame.” Alanna’s cheeks reddened, and she cast a nervous look toward Moira. “Forgive me, Lady Matheson, me mother always said I talked too much.”
“Do nae worry,” Moira assured her. “It is a happy morning.”
Alanna smiled wide. “Oh, it is indeed! Ye need to dress so ye can see the young lad be baptized.”
She opened one of the wardrobes that sat in the room. There were a great number of them set between the windows, and all standing as high as Alanna’s head. With the doors open, Moira could see that the wardrobe was full of garments. She couldn’t help but be jealous of such plenty. She’d never owned more than one chemise at a time.
With the morning light, Moira was able to enjoy the beauty of the chamber as well. It was indeed a star chamber. She sipped at the cider as she looked at the constellations painted so perfectly on the walls.
“The last countess enjoyed painting,” Alanna remarked. She held out an undergown in a soft blue color that complemented Moira’s blond hair and matched her eyes. “She also enjoyed fine clothing. This will suit yer coloring well.”
“It’s silk,” Moira said and shook her head.
“Asgree told me to dress ye finely. Lady Sutherland has decided ye shall stand as godmother.”
“I could nae.” Moira’s mouth went dry just thinking of the fit Bari would have.
Alanna’s eyes rounded. “Oh, but ye must. I’ve got a silver penny bet on ye.” She slapped a hand over her mouth—but too late.
“What do ye mean?” Moira set the cider aside and left the bed. At least she was getting a little more accustomed to being nude in front of other women; her cheeks warmed only slightly.
Alanna shrugged and shook the underrobe so it rippled welcomingly. “Lady Daphne is a spirited lass. She told her husband that ye would be the godmother because ye caught the babe. The young laird was quite set against it, but she did nae back down. She promised him she’d be off to visit with her brother, Saer MacLeod, if he did nae soften his heart toward ye.”
She gathered up the underrobe and helped Moira into it.
“Mind ye, I think it is a shame ye are wed to so old a man. Yer brother is the fiend I’ve heard he is, and more for making such a match. Men think themselves so important. I laid down me silver against the laird, and I am nae sorry. The retainers all want to sully yer name, but what do they know of yer nature? We females are so often caught in the web of their doings. I am nae the only one betting ye will accept Lady Daphne’s offer of becoming the babe’s godmother and stand up to the laird’s ill thinking of ye.”
Alanna went behind her to begin lacing the gown closed. “This silk is fine against the skin. It fits ye well, Lady Matheson.”
Then Alanna went back to the wardrobe and withdrew a velvet overrobe.
“I’ve never worn something so fine,” Moira protested.
Alanna brought it to her anyway. “All the more reason to try it. The laird’s first son is a grand occasion. It’s worthy of velvet.”
Alanna carefully let the gown fall over Moira’s head. It was pleasantly heavy against her chilled skin. A full-length mirror granted her a look at herself as Alanna secured the ties.
“Ye’re quite fetching,” Alanna said. The girl brought a brush over and began to straighten Moira’s hair. The glimmer of enjoyment in her eyes made it impossible for Moira to argue with her anymore. That silver penny was likely all the girl earned in a month.
That wasn’t the only reason she wanted to do it, though. Norris Sutherland had wounded her pride. Oh, the man had cause, she would grant him that, but Alanna had a point, too. Women so often had to suffer for the messes men made. Even if the current tension was due to Sandra, who’d been acting on instructions from Bari. They had both been raised to be calculating and dishonest in order to better their station, making Moira forever grateful for her common-blood mother who had taught her to be content.
Alanna put up her hair in a velvet French hood. “The countess kept these things for receiving lairds and nobles. She always had the current fashions sent to her.” A pair of stockings and a fine set of leather shoes completed her wardrobe. Alanna rubbed her hands together. “The priest will be waiting for ye to come for a blessing before ye go to take the babe from his parents. Saer MacLeod is going to be the godfather.”
“Saer MacLeod cannae be here!” Moira exclaimed.
Alanna nodded. “He is. That man is unnatural. Laird Norris sent a hawk within an hour of the babe’s birth, and Saer MacLeod was here with the dawn. Nae many would brave the night spirits.”
“I doubt Laird MacLeod fears anything,” Moira said.
Alanna nodded and went to open the chamber doors. The undergown rustled as Moira moved toward the doors, and she set her shoulders firmly. Perhaps she had not been raised in silk and velvet, but she would not disgrace her father.
Nor would she forfeit Alanna’s penny.
***
“Ye are causing quite an uproar, Moira Fraser,” Saer MacLeod observed in a low tone. He was wearing a fine wool doublet, and cocked his head from side to side, chafing at the irritating collar.
But what Moira noticed most was that he did not call her Lady Matheson. A chill touched her nape, because she realized he was no fool. He knew the truth of her union.
“Standing as godmother was nae my idea, Laird MacLeod,” Moira said. “Nor was delivering Lady Daphne’s child in a stairwell.”
He flashed her a grin that wasn’t kind at all. “Me sister is a formidable woman, for all that she looks like a Fae princess. I was nae surprised to hear she’d gone to make her own judgment of ye. ”
They were kneeling at the steps of the altar as the priest began the service.
The priest frowned at them as he finished his prayers and made the sign of the cross over them both. Saer didn’t look repentant, in spite of the holy man’s attempt to shame him for talking during their blessing as godparents.
“Now bring me the babe,” the priest instructed solemnly.
Moira rose from her knees and took the arm Saer offered her. They made their way down the main aisle of the church while the Sutherland clan watched, and went back into the castle. Tradition demanded the babe be brought to the church without its mother, so it was Moira’s duty to bring the baby for its cleansing and return it to Daphne.
Daphne would not be allowed back into the church until she’d been churched, which wouldn’t happen until a fortnight passed and she had her “sitting up” day. Until then, she’d rest and do her best not to move so her body could recover. At her churching, she’d be blessed and cleansed as well, for no one wanted to risk letting someone back into the house of God who might have made a deal with Satan to ease the pain of childbirth.
Saer and Moira climbed up to the chamber Daphne had slept in, and found her already sitting up in defiance. Despite the fact that she was still abed, lavish robes were laid over Daphne to make it appear that she was dressed in them. A ruby necklace was secured around her neck too. Norris stood beside his wife, formally attired as well, and surrounded by Sutherland retainers.
Moira lowered herself before entering the room.
“Ye are set on this?” Norris asked his wife.
Daphne gave her husband a hard look. “I have learned to have respect for fate when it intercedes in me life. I do nae understand why Moira was the one who caught our son, but I will nae argue. She is part of our son’s life.”
Norris didn’t appear convinced, but he looked at Moira with something other than seething anger for once. He gave her a curt nod and lifted his son with gentle hands. “Then it will be as ye say.”
The baby was sweet and settled into her arms with a soft sound. It sucked on its finger as it watched her with cloudy blue eyes.
“He’s scrawny,” Saer informed his sister.
Daphne pouted. “That shows how little ye know, Brother. He’s a fine big boy, according to the midwife.”
Brother and sister shared a look before the church bells began to chime. Saer groaned and pulled on the corner of his bonnet.
“The priest is getting impatient,” Saer said, cupping Moira’s elbow and guiding her from the bedchamber. Achaius had appeared in the receiving room.
“Ye’ve pleased me well, lass. I’m proud to call ye me wife,” he said to Moira.
Moira didn’t know what to say to this rare praise from her husband, who was almost as much of a stranger to her as Saer was, so she just smiled and lowered himself, letting Saer guide her down the stairs.
They made their way down the stairs with Sutherland retainers trailing behind them. Saer leaned close to her ear. “I am curious, Moira Fraser, just how long are ye going to proceed with the deception that is yer marriage?”
She hesitated, and he locked gazes with her for a long moment.
“Nothing happens beneath me roof without me knowing. At least, naught so important as the fact that ye were still a maid when Achaius made it known he had ye.”
Shock felt like it was strangling her. He gently eased her forward, and the retainers caught up to them as they passed through the castle doors. At the bottom of the stairs, Gahan and Lytge waited. Moira lowered herself but did not stop.
The yard was full of people who had come up from the village surrounding Dunrobin. The bells along the walls of the castle were ringing as she took the baby toward the open doors of the church. Saer escorted her and, for this single occasion, took his sword into the sanctuary. A baptism was the one exception to being armed inside the house of God. As godfather, it would be his duty to strike down anyone interfering with the holy ritual.
Moira’s duty was to take the baby to the church without any interference from his family, so she passed Gahan and Lytge at the doors without stopping. It was an old tradition one obeyed to ensure the new baby was cleansed completely of any influences of evil.
Once she’d walked down the long aisle, Moira handed the baby to the priest. The Sutherland people let out a cheer the moment he dunked the baby, who howled to release the devil. The baby turned red as he bawled, and his arms beat back and forth with his outrage. But Moira smiled, relieved she wouldn’t have to pinch him. If he didn’t cry, it was a bad omen. Even though she knew it would have been necessary, she was still relieved not to be handing Norris back his son with a mark on him from her hands.
After the ceremony, Moira returned baby Duncan to Daphne.
The new mother beamed. “Thank ye, Moira, and I’m sorry I was spying on ye. I pray ye shall forgive me. The midwife assures me that women do the strangest things when their time is near, but I am still shocked by me actions. ”
“This is yer home. A good mistress always knows what is happening inside her keep,” Moira replied. She had to bite back a denial that she had anything to hide, because she did: her nighttime trysting with Gahan.
“That does nae make it right, and fate showed me what she thought of it, sure enough.” Daphne smiled down at her baby. “Yet it is all well. I think I would like to use the birthing chair next time, though. Those stone steps were hard on me back.”
“Next time ye will nae mistake the signs of labor,” Asgree said. “Ye are blessed to nae feel the pain until it is almost time for the babe to enter the world.”
The baby began to fuss now that he could smell his mother’s breast. Moira lowered herself and left the chamber, looking back in surprise, because the countess was opening her own robe to feed her son.
Saer was waiting for her in the receiving room, and Gahan appeared as well. Gahan reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet in greeting, and she actually looked behind her to see whom he was addressing, but it was for her.
He chuckled softly. “How could I fail to show respect for me nephew’s godmother?” He held out his hand, the invitation clear. For all their intimate moments, none of them had been in the presence of others. She had to make herself place her hand in his, and her heart began to increase its pace as he closed his grip around her fingers. A shiver rippled across her skin, and her knees weakened.
He pressed the lightest kiss against her hand, then released it.
I will nae rest until I find the means to end yer marriage. His words rose in her memory as his eyes echoed the same look of determination he’d had when he said them.
Then Gahan and Saer clasped wrists and exchanged grins.
“My thanks for sending the hawk, Gahan,” Saer said. “I would nae have missed this moment. I have been separated from me sister for too long.”
Saer sent her another promising look before Achaius interrupted them. He made his way into the room with a slight scuff of his feet.
“There’s me bride!” he said. “Do I know how to select the best the Highlands have to offer, lads, or no? Come, lass! I’m ready to sample the celebration fare the cook will be setting out.”
As Achaius headed toward the door, Moira looked around and found Saer and Gahan watching her, although it would have been more truthful to say they watched the way Achaius made his way down the stairs without noticing whether or not she followed.
Her blush irritated her. It was frustrating to feel like a toy being fought over by children. With a rustle of the silk undergown, she followed Achaius.
At least Bari was nowhere to be found. Small comfort, but comfort nonetheless.
***
“A Fraser for godmother.” The earl didn’t sound pleased. He scowled over his desk at his sons.
“Do nae forget midwife,” Gahan added before turning on Norris. “And what do ye mean by handling Moira roughly?” he demanded of his brother.
Norris grunted and crossed his arms over his chest. “I was nae thinking clearly.”
“No man does when his children are being born,” Lytge said. “At least nae the men in this family. We care for our women. It makes us fools when they are suffering to give us babes.”
“That does nae make me actions acceptable,” Norris admitted. “I owe Lady Matheson an apology.”
“Do nae call her that,” Gahan grumbled.
“Enough, Gahan!” Lytge scolded. “We are nae the ones who put this charade into motion. We must let Bari play out his plan or risk being judged by our other vassals.”
“Nay, Father, I do nae have to stand back and watch.”
“What are ye thinking?” Norris demanded.
“I brought Saer MacLeod here because he’s a witness.”
“To what end, Son?” the earl asked softly. “Take another man’s wife, and there will be trouble.”
“There will be trouble if she remains his wife,” Gahan said.
The earl nodded. “Aye. It is nae a situation that can be solved without consequence.” He drew in a deep breath. “Let us leave it be for the moment. Time can be a very effective elixir, and Bari Fraser is nae a man with much patience.”
Gahan nodded. It was a reprieve, but one that would allow him time to act. He agreed with his sire, but he wasn’t going to wait for Bari to grow tired. No, Gahan was going to press the man until he broke and exposed his true purpose.
***
“Where is me undergown?”
Alanna wrinkled her nose in response. “That was ruined beyond cleaning.”
“It was all I had,” Moira protested and glanced around the star chamber, frowning. “Where are me shoes and stockings?”
“Gone by the mistress’s command,” Asgree said as she entered the chamber with two maids trailing her. Their arms were full of folded garments. “The godmother to the Earl of Sutherland’s heir does nae wear rags.”
The maids shook out the clothes they had brought. There were undergowns and overgowns, and even a newly fashioned dress with skirts and bodice.
“Please sit down so the cobbler may measure yer feet.” Asgree’s request was perfectly polite, but there was a core of strength in her tone that sent Moira onto a stool without protest.
An older man entered and tugged on his cap. A younger man followed him with a wooden box. He set it down and opened it up to reveal measuring sticks and all sorts of tools.
“Ye seem to know a bit of the art of midwifery,” Asgree said.
Moira looked back at the head of house and found her watching the cobbler with a critical eye.
“Aye. On Fraser land, I led a simple life. I learned the arts the rest of the clan girls did.”
“Simple can be useful, it would seem.” Asgree moved to inspect the garments lying out on the bed. The cobbler finished and tugged on his bonnet as he left. The head of house clapped her hands the moment the doors were closed.
Alanna and the other maids began to unlace the fine velvet and lifted it away. She knew it was not hers to keep, and yet she was sad when they took the undergown away, for it had been a delight to feel the silk against her skin.
“The silver one, I think,” Asgree decided, and her staff lifted an undergown the color of moonlight off the bed.
It was the softest linen she’d ever felt, yet it was not thin. The garment settled around her ankles, and she sighed as it warmed her. The laces were on the side, which was quite useful. Most undergowns didn’t have side laces, because the two long sets of eyelets took more work and time to lace. But it would be nice to be able to remove it herself—very nice.
An overgown of wool was next. The fabric was fresh, with no hint of mustiness to suggest it had been stored away. Once it was on Moira, Alanna brought a pair of sleeves and used long ties to secure them at the shoulder.
“This is truly too fine a gift.” Yet she adored it. The tone of her voice betrayed her. In the Highlands, cloth was expensive.
“It seems a fair trade,” Asgree noted. “Since yer clothing was ruined during the birth.”
“Yet mine was nae so fine.”
“Sutherland is blessed to have sheep that produce strong wool,” Asgree offered. “And ye are much the same size as the young laird’s wife. Let’s finish. They will be waiting in the hall for us.”
***
The first meal of the day was always the simplest, but the kitchens were in a flurry as the cook prepared for the evening. The scent of cooking meat teased Moira’s nose as she entered the hall and made her way down the aisle. Achaius spied her and pounded the table.
“There ye be! What mean ye by making the earl wait?”
Moira lowered herself and felt the weight of those filling the lower tables staring at her. No one had waited on her; the meal was half-finished. Achaius was scolding her to impress the earl. Many a husband did the same with their wives, but she still bristled. She bit her lip to contain her displeasure.
“She was being seen to by me daughter-in-law,” Lytge said. “Young Daphne does nae think it fitting that the godmother of her son goes about wearing rags. Raise the lass, man.”
Achaius gestured her forward, and she climbed the stairs on the sides of the platform on which the high table stood to take a seat next to him. She noticed there was room for her at the high table because Gahan was not there. It was just as well; she didn’t need him distracting her at every turn.
Bari sat near the end of the high table. “She was nae wearing rags. We provide well enough for our women,” he insisted.
Several of the Sutherland men sitting at the high table sent him dark looks, but it was Daphne’s brother who turned and smirked at him.
“I’m sorry to hear yer land is worse off than mine,” Saer MacLeod responded. “Perhaps the coming season will be kind to ye.”
Bari growled. Achaius pounded the table again. “Enough about me wife. We’re thankful for the gift from the countess. She’ll wear it tonight for the celebration. Right fine of yer daughter-in-law to have that baby while we’re here. It will provide me the opportunity to linger another day. At my age, ye must take the chances to be merry when they come.”
Moira felt herself caught between the calculating looks of Saer, Bari, Norris, and the earl, and she looked down at her food. She’d been hungry, but her appetite had vanished, replaced with the tension lingering at the head table.
Your real problem is that Gahan is missing…
That much was true.
Moira tried to look pleasant and pick at her food, but not knowing where Gahan was made her glance over her shoulder every few minutes, so she excused herself and made her way to the stables.
Athena was restless, crying at Moira and refusing to stand still. Moira ruefully noted that the only person who would notice her absence was Gahan, so she saddled her mare and left Dunrobin, looking for a place to let the hawk fly.
She had to ride away from Dunrobin to find ground that wasn’t being broken for crops. She rode to the rocky high ground and gave Athena her freedom. The hawk let out a cry as she took flight. Someone had already fed her, but it was in the bird’s nature to hunt. She soared on the morning breeze, looking for prey.
Moira took the opportunity to walk. The open ground ended at a forest. The trees were thick, but Moira wandered among them to cut the climbing afternoon sun. Water rushed by somewhere, and snow still sat in clumps where the thick branches shielded it from the sun. For the first time since Bari had informed her that she was getting married, she was at ease.
There was also no one to criticize her or suspect her of wrongdoing, and no one to tell her not to admit she preferred Gahan over Achaius.
She laughed softly at herself. It was an unfair comparison at best. Gahan was in his prime, and Achaius had bid farewell to that time decades past. Yet it was more than his physical attributes which made him superior. Achaius was a self-serving man, while Gahan had honor.
Athena cried, and Moira shielded her eyes to look for the bird. A second cry came as another hawk appeared in the sky. The birds began to circle each other, spiraling closer and closer together.
“Hawks are more honest than humans.”
She jumped, whirling to face her company. Gahan was watching the hawks, a leather gauntlet protecting his hand. He leaned against a tree and looked at Moira, his gaze slowly slipping down her length.
“The hawks are nae concerned about what anyone thinks. They will mate if the courtship goes well,” he continued.
“We have hardly had a courtship.” Moira had no idea what she was saying. It made no sense, and yet it felt like she was finally speaking the truth.
Gahan flashed her a grin. “We’ve circled each other, tested each other, judged the strength of the other…” He pushed away from the tree and closed the distance between them. “Just like our feathered friends up there are doing.”
As he approached, every inch of her skin became sensitive. He didn’t stop until he was an arm’s length away, making her look up to make eye contact. She felt breathless, her heart accelerating just from his nearness. No, it was because he was looking at her like she was something he wanted to taste.
She wanted a taste, too.
“So my question is, sweet Moira, since I have made sure to sneak away and will likely catch hell for it from Cam, do ye want to give me a chance to court yer submission?”
She realized with a start that he was saying he’d sneaked away specifically to court her. He’d previously overwhelmed her, but now he was asking. There was a sweetness to him she never would have guessed existed. It was so tempting to believe that, even though she was suspicious that was he still just manipulating her.
“Ye will catch hell. That captain of yers is nae a fool.”
Gahan shrugged. “He’s me half brother. So, aye, I agree with ye. He will have naught good to say of me taking the opportunity to be alone with ye.” His features darkened as he looked past her to the tops of Dunrobin’s towers in the distance. “When I saw ye ride out, I wanted to give Achaius hell for letting ye stray so far, but the honest truth is, I recognized it as the chance to be alone with ye. So I am guilty and unrepentant.”
He reached out and stroked her cheek. She shivered, moving away, but she didn’t jerk. Instead, she took a few steps away and looked back over her shoulder at him. Excitement was threatening to make her giggle, so she moved a few more steps away to try and control her emotions. Of course, when it came to Gahan, there was no such thing as control.
“I do nae think we have ever truly been alone,” she said.
He followed her with a lazy pace. “Last night we were. Yet it was a stolen moment. Too quickly finished.”
Her cheeks heated, and she looked away from him, searching for her self-discipline. He caught up to her and cupped her chin, turning her gently around to face him. It felt so right to be wrapped in his embrace, as though she’d been longing for it since he left her.
“This is no different,” she said.
He reached up to gently rub the nape of her neck. “Because ye are going to be leaving soon?”
She bit her lip. “Of course.”
He pressed a kiss to her lips, lingering before breaking their embrace just long enough to let her nipples pucker. “I would show ye the difference, Moira.” He stepped back and offered her his hand. “Come with me. Come, because ye know ye are nae Achaius’s wife.”
“Because I want to be yer lover?” she questioned softly.
He nodded, his eyes narrowing.
She knew she shouldn’t, but it felt wrong to refuse. Like she was lying to herself. The hawks were still circling above and would be for hours. It seemed Athena had the right idea.
She placed her hand in his, and satisfaction filled his eyes. He turned and began to lead her deeper into the forest. The sunlight filtered through the trees, and the birds called to one another.
A stone house came into view, the walls made of smooth rocks from the river. There was a huge water wheel on the side of it, waiting for the harvest and the grinding of flour.
“No one will bother us here,” he said.
Gahan opened the door and pulled her inside. He slid the bar across the door and winked at her as he took the long sword off his back and laid it near the door.
“I doubt we are the only couple who finds this a good place to spend an afternoon,” he offered in a wicked tone.
Suddenly shy, she took a hesitant step away from him and looked around the mill. There was a large grinding stone with gear shafts that ran through the wall to the wheel. Large levers were set into the wall for lowering the wheel. It would take at least four strong men to operate it. Long tables lined the walls. There was a stack of empty sacks on one, waiting for the next season’s grinding.
“Come here, Moira.” His tone was soft and inviting.
But when she looked at him, she shook her head and bit her lower lip.
He pulled on the fingers of his gauntlet and set it aside on one of the tables. She expected him to disrobe, but he crossed his arms and considered her first. His silence prompted her more than a probing question might have.
“I just realized that I do nae know ye at all.”
Understanding dawned on his face. “So ye wonder if ye are a fool for trusting me?”
“I know I am a fool.” It was an admission, a confession that came from her heart. “I should be trying to catch me husband’s eye, but…”
“But he leaves ye cold?”
She sighed. “Ye are being overly naughty, Gahan Sutherland. Have ye no shame?”
He had only been toying with her, letting her think she had left him behind. With a burst of speed, he captured her once more and began pulling the pins from her hair.
“Shame? Nay, Moira, I have naught when it comes to ye.” He combed his hands through her hair, freeing it of the braid. He gathered it up and lifted it in a bundle and buried his face in it, drawing a deep breath.
“Ye draw me to ye with an intensity that overrules everything I know I should do. The right and wrong I’ve been taught dissolves into the pure rightness I feel when I touch ye.”
He backed up and undid the few buttons on his doublet that were closed. He tossed the garment aside, and it hit the table with a thud.
“I want to strip ye and see the sunlight on yer skin.” He pulled on the end of the wide leather belt that kept his kilt around his lean waist. With a tug, it loosened, and he caught the pleats of tartan before they slithered down his legs. He tossed the plaid on one of the side tables.
“I want to stretch ye out on me plaid and see me colors behind ye as I sink into yer body again.”
He yanked his shirt off and tossed it aside. She couldn’t resist letting her stare slide down his body. Every muscle was defined, and his cock stood erect, making her crave him.
He cupped her chin and raised her head so their gazes locked. “Shame? Nay, Moira, I have naught. All there is when I am near ye is desire, and it is thick enough to choke me.”
“Ye make me tremble,” she admitted.
Gahan chuckled as he spun her around. He attacked the laces on her gown and pulled the wool garment over her head. Her undergown didn’t pose any challenge to him either. It fluttered onto one of the tables, and she discovered herself hesitating before turning around.
Gahan embraced her from behind, tucking her head beneath his chin. His cock nestled against her back and his skin was warm. For a moment he held her still, and a shiver shook her, raising gooseflesh along her limbs. He smoothed them with slow strokes of his hands before gently cupping her breasts, making her moan with pleasure. She turned, needing to be able to touch him.
Approval flashed in his eyes, making her bold. She reached out and stroked his cock. His lips thinned, filling her with confidence. She closed her fingers around his shaft, gripping it gently as she stroked it from base to head.
“Where did ye learn to do that?” His voice was husky, and he groaned as she repeated the motion. It seemed impossible to be affecting him so intensely, and it made her feel powerful.
“Bari sent me to the mews, and there are many who thought it a fine place to tryst. Some did nae care to check very carefully that they were in fact alone.” She stretched up to kiss him, wanting to be the one setting their pace for a change. Need was twisting through her, but she felt in control of it this time, and she stretched up to press her lips against his more firmly.
He held her face in his hands and teased her mouth with the tip of his tongue. Opening her lips was a natural progression instead of the surrender it had been before. She stroked his cock again as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. The combination of control and invasion was enough to make her knees weak, but she refused to surrender.
She craved companionship, and for that, she would need to give as much pleasure as she received. Her memory offered up something else, something so forbidden she’d shied away from thinking about it until now. She broke their kiss and resumed toying with his erection. “I saw a few other things, too.” His eyes widened, but she didn’t give him the chance to question her. Her confidence was high, making her bold beyond measure. “Ye are nae the only one who wants to see the other by the light of day.”
She sank to her knees, maintaining her grip on his erect staff. It was ruby-red and stiff, but the skin was soft beneath her fingertips.
“Moira…ye cannae mean to…”
She looked up at him, stroking his length as she locked eyes with him. “I know men like it, whatever it’s called.”
She didn’t wait for him to tell her the term. She returned her attention to his cock and opened her mouth. She licked it first, a tiny lap at the slit on its head.
“Sweet fucking Christ!” he swore as he jumped back.
“Christ never did such a thing.” She got to her feet and followed him. “And do nae bring Him up. There is naught here that is permissible.”
He took her back in his embrace and toyed with her nipples and the globes of her breasts. “I think the Almighty has a great deal to do with the pleasure we find in each other’s touch,” he said. “Who else might have created such a need to seek it out when the reality of life does nae favor it?”
She didn’t know, but she feared talking about it. She didn’t want to discuss anything, because that would take her back to reality. She turned in his arms, reaching up to slip her hands over his short-cut beard.
“I’m a coward, Gahan, for I do nae want to talk. There are too many facts that might come up, and I’d rather enjoy me chance to be yer lover.”
She pressed a kiss against his chest and then began to lower herself as she bent her knees. She kissed her way to where his cock jutted up from his belly. Closing her fingers around it, she stroked it, then licked the slit once more.
He groaned, restoring her confidence. She let it warm her and destroy the doubts that had snuck in to needle her. The next time she licked him, she drew her tongue all the way around the crown of his cock. He caught her head, his fingers threading through her hair. He thrust toward her, the jerk of his hips seeming compulsive, as though he had no control.
She liked that idea.
Let him be at her mercy for a change. She opened her mouth and let the head of his cock enter. He grunted, and the sounds pleased her; they meant more than polished words, for they were pure response. She pulled her head back then leaned forward to take more of his length inside her mouth.
“God, ye’ll unman me!” He pulled free, earning a frustrated moan from her.
“Good!” She cupped the sacs hanging beneath his cock. “I believe it is far past time for ye to be the one being overwhelmed.”
Gahan captured her hair and held her firmly until she looked up at him. “Ye are nae a coward, Moira Fraser. Ye’re a woman who is honest, and that I admire above all else.”
No matter where she ended up in life, she was certain she would always remember the look of approval in his eyes. It was more than lust, more than desire.
But need was twisting inside her, so she resumed her assault on his member, sucking it deeply into her mouth and teasing the head with the tip of her tongue. It grew harder, the sac holding his seed tightening as the first drops eased from the slit on its head. But he pulled free, refusing to let her draw his full measure.
“I need to be inside ye, Moira.” He scooped her off the floor and laid her on the rumpled length of his plaid. For a moment, he stared at her, the look of fierce possession on his face so intense she felt scorched.
But she reached for him, opening her arms in welcome. He covered her, stretching her arms above her head as she clasped him between her thighs.
“Ye’re mine, Moira…mine,” he breathed against her neck as he thrust deep inside her.
She lifted her hips to take him, groaning with delight. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it was pure rapture every time he pressed his length into her. There was only the rightness of the way they felt together, the building pleasure making ready to break inside of her.
When it burst, she cried out, tightening her hold around her lover. He strained toward her, thrusting his cock as deep as possible. Her breasts bounced with his motions until he stiffened and released his seed. She could feel the insides of her passage contracting around his staff, as if she were milking him. She couldn’t move for a long time, her lungs laboring for breath and her heart pounding so hard it felt as though it might break through her chest.
None of it mattered. All she cared about was the feeling of Gahan’s heart racing along with hers. He rolled off her and lay on the table, then gathered her close, covering her with his plaid.
At last she tried to rise, but he held her tight. She rubbed his chest, soaking up a last feel of him before gently pushing at him.
“I suppose ye are right, though I have no liking for it,” he grumbled in response.
He let her rise. He swung his feet over the edge of the table and stood as she found her undergown. The side lacing allowed her to close it herself. Gahan frowned but grabbed his shirt and put it on too. He pleated his kilt then leaned back against the table to grasp the ends of the belt to buckle it around his waist.
“Do nae,” Gahan warned her softly, menacingly.
She turned around and looked at him in confusion.
“Do nae look ashamed,” he clarified as he shrugged into his doublet and worked the silver buttons closed. They drew her attention, reminding her of just who he was.
“I swear I’ll sleep in yer bed tonight if ye do nae stop looking so guilty.”
“Ye will nae.” She lifted her chin and held his gaze. “And do nae bluster at me, Gahan Sutherland. Ye know as well as I the reasons we cannae do such a thing. Ye are nae a man who forsakes his duty. I could nae love a man who did nae have honor.”
She realized what she’d said and gasped. “I did nae mean—”
“Aye, ye did.” He moved toward her, and she retreated, shaking her head. She bumped into the wall, and he caged her there with a hand flattened on the wall on either side of her head. She didn’t want to meet his gaze, didn’t want to see confirmation of just how foolish she was.
“It humbles me, lass, for I have done little to deserve it.”
There was sincerity in his voice. She looked up against her better judgment and found his eyes glassy with emotion. But it was too much; she knew she could never have him. She ducked beneath his arm.
“We must nae say such things.” Tears burned her eyes, but she forbade herself to cry. There would be plenty of time for tears when she was back on Matheson land.
“Saer knows the truth of yer marriage.”
She turned to look at him. “I know. He told me so. Do ye mean to drive me mad?”
“I mean to expose yer brother and Achaius for the liars they are,” he insisted.
She turned around so he might lace her gown. Frustration was destroying the bliss of the moment. She drew in a deep breath and let it out as he finished closing her gown.
“What do ye mean by that sound, Moira?” he demanded softly.
She turned and met his challenge. But he didn’t care for the calm acceptance on her face.
“What do ye expect to come of exposing them? There is naught good about this entire situation. For all that Achaius is deceiving the world about our marriage, at least it gives me a place to go beyond Bari’s reach. Expose him, and I will have to return to me brother’s land.”
“Ye’ll come to me,” he insisted.
“A Fraser inside Dunrobin? I think yer father will have something to say about that. If no, I am sure yer brother will, and it will nae be words of welcome.”
He opened his mouth but shut it again. She shook her head. “As I said, naught good can come of this. That is why it’s forbidden.”
He reached for her, cupping her face, and she rubbed her cheek gently against his hand.
“Forbidden, and yet I crave it.”
He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly for a long moment. “Just as ye crave it. I refuse to believe there is no way to have ye for me own.”
“Yer mistress, perhaps.” She gently pushed her way free. “Achaius is short in years. But I wonder, Gahan, do ye wish our children to be bastard-born?”
“Ye insult me to ask such a thing,” he growled. “I would take ye to the church.”
“Yer father would never allow it,” she insisted firmly. “And he might easily disown ye, which is something I will nae take a chance upon.”
“Are ye saying ye will nae wed me?”
She lost the battle to keep her tears from falling. Several trickled down her cheeks before she drew in a shaky breath to restore her composure.
“That is what I’m saying, Gahan. The cost would be too great for ye. It is more than the position ye enjoy. It would strike at the relationship ye have with yer sire, and I can see that is a dear thing to ye. I have no wish to be the woman who sours it. ”
He didn’t care for her answer. Rage flickered in his eyes, but a moment later he surprised her by grinning. “Ye do love me, Moira.” He nodded, his expression full of confidence. “Ye do.”
***
It was true. She did love him. The ride back to Dunrobin was too short because she needed to banish her emotions before others witnessed her eyes shining with unshed tears. But she could not pull her mare to a stop and linger, because Gahan had warned her he’d be leaving just long enough after her to throw off suspicion. She crossed into the castle and slid off the horse’s back. The yard was still full of younger boys training with swords under the watchful eye of experienced men.
As she returned Athena to the stables, Moira tried to forbid herself to think about Gahan’s promise to give her a place, but there seemed no way to evict the echoes of their conversation from her mind. Athena settled onto a perch and began to groom herself.
“Ye should have smothered the brat.”
Moira spun around to find Bari glaring at her. She gasped as she realized what he’d said. “Ye cannae say such things.”
He reached out and smacked her, the sound popping loudly in the mews.
“Ye do nae tell me what to say…half sister. It would have served them right to lose their blood, since they took Sandra from me.”
The light of insanity flickered in his eyes. The sting on her cheek was nothing compared to the growing fear that he was losing all grip on reality.
“Bari, ye need to let go of yer hate. It is destroying ye,” Moira said, trying to reason with him.
“I saw ye out, alone. I also saw that bastard riding out without even a single man at his back. There is only one reason he’d take such a risk.” He raked her from head to toe with his wild glare. “Ye look like Gahan’s whore now,” he snarled.
She was pinned by the mews behind her. Bari pulled a small knife from the top of his boot and held it up.
“I should slice yer throat and leave ye here for yer lover to find.”
He was insane enough to do it. “Enough, Bari,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “Ye must make peace within yerself.”
“What I need is vengeance for Sandra. She’ll nae rest until I avenge her.”
His eyes glowed strangely, the knife hovering threateningly, until someone caught his wrist from behind and yanked him away.
He sputtered, and the hawks all reacted to the sudden motion. They fluttered their wings and cried out as someone moved in front of Moira.
“Ye’ll keep yer hands off what is mine, Bari Fraser.”
Achaius emerged from the shadows of the mews, his retainers close. Two of them placed themselves between her and Bari.
Bari stood up, unrepentant. “She’s Gahan Sutherland’s whore.” He pointed at the gown she wore. “She’s wearing his clothing like she’s proud of her ways. Ye should strangle her for adultery.”
The birds had quieted down, and no one had come to investigate. Moira found herself searching for an escape route, but there was none.
“Gahan Sutherland?” Achaius questioned. “It was Lady Daphne who gave her the clothing. Having the future countess of Sutherland feeling kindly toward me wife might be an advantage someday.”
“I saw her coming in from the woods, and Gahan left nae long after her. She’s his whore,” Bari accused.
Achaius looked at her, his retainers turning to flank him. She should have been frightened, but all that swept through her was relief.
“Ye see? She makes no excuses or denials.” Bari spat on the ground in front of her. “Let me cut her throat and leave her here for that bastard to find.”
“Now why would I let ye do such a thing?” Achaius asked gleefully.
Surprise flashed through her as Achaius turned to face Bari. “Since ye have no bride, no bastards, and no other kin, me wife is the heir to the Fraser clan. The issue from her womb will be the next laird.”
“She will never inherit Fraser holdings,” Bari growled.
Achaius stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Are ye sure, lad? Ye talk a great deal about feuding, and nae one bit about making sure ye have an heir. Ye have no cousins, no uncles, and no other siblings, only Moira, me properly wedded wife.”
Bari’s eyes widened. “Are ye playing me for a fool? Ye promised me ye’d join me in a feud against the Sutherlands. It was the only reason I gave ye land as dowry.”
Achaius chuckled, the sound dry and brittle. “Marriage is for gain and babes. Yer sister is a Matheson now, and we protect what is ours.”
“Does that mean ye are nae riding with me against the Sutherlands?” Bari demanded.
“Keep yer voice down,” Achaius warned, “or ye’ll get to see the room yer sister died in, I wager.”
“Answer me,” Bari hissed through clenched teeth.
Achaius ignored him and turned to look at Moira. “We’ll be leaving now. I’ve had enough celebrating, Wife.”
“I’ll find someone else to join me,” Bari threatened.
He shrugged. “Ride to yer death, lad. That will only leave yer clan to me.” He turned to his men. “Saddle the horses. We’re bound for Matheson land.”
The Matheson retainers responded instantly. They began pulling their horses from the stables and saddling them. The Sutherland retainers watched curiously from their posts until Norris Sutherland appeared.
“It’s been a fine visit, one I’ll nae soon forget,” Achaius declared loudly to Norris, “but the arrival of yer son has me thinking of planting me own seeds, as I told yer father already.”
Norris nodded then looked toward the gate. The bells on the walls began to ring as Gahan returned to the fortress. Moira turned to watch him, her breath catching in her throat. He was magnificent. She stared at him, trying to memorize the details of his dark hair flowing back as he rode forward. The pommel of his sword gleamed behind his left shoulder, and his doublet sleeves were once more open and tied behind his back. He pulled up the stallion and took in the activity, his eyes darkening with fury.
“Glad I am to be able to say farewell to ye,” Achaius said. He offered Gahan his hand. Gahan slid off his horse’s back and reluctantly clasped the older man’s wrist. Achaius nodded then turned to let his men help him mount.
“Forgive an old man for his whims, but I feel the need to be gone,” Achaius announced.
Moira hesitated as her mare was brought forward.
What are ye going to do? Refuse to leave?
She’d always known it had to end. She drew in a deep breath and lifted her foot to mount. Gahan grasped her waist and lifted her onto the back of the mare.
“Thank ye…” Her words trailed off as she looked into Gahan’s eyes one more time.
My lover’s eyes…
Aye, she’d remember him that way. He withdrew his hand, and his captain stood near his back. Her throat was trying to swell shut, but she swallowed the lump.
“Good-bye, Gahan Sutherland,” she said softly. “Please give Daphne me farewell.”
Achaius didn’t grant her any further time. He pointed toward the gates, and her mare was swept up in the flow of his retainers. They closed around her, shielding her from Bari and carrying her through the gates of Dunrobin.
Tears leaked from her eyes, and she didn’t try to stop them. The wind whipped them away to hide her shame. She’d known it would end. But that made it no more easy to bear.
***
He’d always loved Dunrobin. From the moment he’d been old enough to understand his father was the earl, Gahan had looked at the castle with longing eyes. When he was very young, his mother would cuddle him and tell him about his father. When she died, he struggled to ignore the barbs aimed at him because of the stigma of his birth. Dunrobin had represented home and everything dear. He’d bleed to protect it, and vowed to give his life if necessary.
But today, it felt empty.
The sun was setting, and it felt like every bit of breath was leaving his body. The Mathesons disappeared over the horizon, and he fought the urge to charge after them.
She’d said she wouldn’t wed him. But only to protect him.
He ground his teeth with frustration, trying to think of a reason to go after her. But there was none. He watched as the Frasers finished saddling up as well and rode out toward their own land.
Cam stepped in front of him. “Yer father is asking for ye.”
He wanted to refuse. But he knew he couldn’t; that was not the way the world worked. Gahan reluctantly turned and entered the tower, making his way toward his father’s private study. People cleared out of his way, offering him nods of respect. The gestures were yet another reminder of how the world worked. The Sutherland people didn’t need him racing off to steal another man’s wife. He had his duty to uphold the honor of the family. Only the English nobility expected their people to behave correctly while they did as they pleased. He was a Highlander.
But that did little to ease his frustration.
“Do nae tell me to be content with it, Father,” Gahan said when he arrived.
Gahan paced back and forth in front of his father’s desk. It felt like someone had cut something off him, living flesh severed from him while he was awake to feel the agony.
“What makes ye think I would say something such as that?”
Gahan froze, turning to look at his father. Instead of the stern look of disapproval he expected, his father appeared sympathetic.
“I know what loves feels like,” Lytge said softly. “If ye recall, I gave ye me reasons for warning ye to stay away from the lass.”
Gahan shook his head. “I am the greatest fool alive for nae admitting it to her.”
It didn’t seem possible that he’d heard Moira say she loved him but a few hours past. It felt like a huge chasm had opened up, uncrossable now that she was gone.
Someone rapped on the door.
“Come in,” his father said.
Norris opened the door and tugged on his bonnet as he entered. He stepped aside to reveal a young boy wearing the Sutherland kilt. The boy pushed out his chin and reached up for the corner of his cap. Norris gently grasped the boy by the shoulder.
“This is young William. He was tending the mews today and has something to tell ye.”
Norris eased the lad forward, and William stepped up after just the first nudge. He gulped down a deep breath before gathering the courage to speak directly to the earl.
“Bari Fraser was furious with his sister for nae killing the laird’s new grandson when she had the chance to gain vengeance for Sandra’s death,” the boy said. “He wanted to cut his sister’s throat, pulled a knife out to do the deed and all.”
“He did what?” Gahan roared.
Norris held up a hand to quiet his brother. “There is more.”
“It was Laird Matheson who protected her, but Bari Fraser claimed he’d seen ye in the woods with Lady Matheson and he knew for a fact ye were lovers. But Laird Matheson was nae angry. He told Laird Fraser that Lady Matheson was set to inherit the Fraser clan on account of the fact that Laird Fraser was talking about feuding with the Sutherlands.”
“I knew it!” Gahan exclaimed.
“Did anyone else hear this, lad?” the earl asked.
William nodded. “There was three of us, but I’m the oldest, so I stepped forward.”
“I need yer word that ye will keep silent,” the earl insisted.
William nodded and tugged on the corner of his bonnet. “I will, and I’ll make sure the other lads do too. We’re Sutherland through and through.”
The earl smiled. “That’s right. A Sutherland is only as good as his word.” He opened a small wooden chest on the desk and pulled three silver pennies from it. He pressed them down and tapped them with a fingertip. “Which is why I always take care of me people.”
William looked at the silver with anticipation brightening his eyes, but he twisted the corner of his kilt instead of reaching for the pennies. “Yer gratitude is enough, Laird. Me father would ask where I got the penny, and I could nae lie to him.”
The earl grinned. “Ye’re a clever lad.” He returned the pennies to the chest. William tried to hide his disappointment.
“You tend to the mews, correct? Are there any chicks ye favor?”
William’s expression brightened. “Aye, Laird. I like them all, but there is one I think is the best of the lot from last spring.”
“It likes ye, does it?”
William nodded.
“It is yers. Tell yer father ye earned the hawk’s respect, and I saw fit to give it to ye. The other lads may take a hawk or a sheep for their diligence. That is nae a lie. Keeping yer word is being diligent to me.”
“I thank ye, Laird, very much,” William said eagerly. He tugged on his bonnet again, this time pulling so hard it was drooping over his eyebrow when he finished. Norris opened the door for him, and he scampered through.
“So ye have witnesses now,” Saer MacLeod offered from where he stood in the corner. “But nae ones who would hold up if Lord Home became involved.”
“That may be for the best,” Lytge said. “As Daphne learned, the young king believes obedience to one’s family is very important. Moira is wed to Achaius, and I think the man is very clever, for he knows Bari is reckless enough to get himself killed before leaving an heir to the Fraser clan.”
“I am going after Moira,” Gahan informed his father. “Now that Achaius has revealed his plans to Bari, she is nae safe. Bari might try to get her out of the way to make sure he is the only one who can hold the Fraser land, or to ensure me blood does nae wear Fraser colors. It’s true, the lass is me lover, but I wish she were me wife.”
Everyone waited to see what the earl would say.
“I doubt ye will be welcomed through the gates of Matheson Tower now,” Norris predicted.
The earl held up his hand when Gahan would have argued. “This will require more than yer passion, Son. I forbid ye to go to Matheson land. Is that clear?”
Every fiber of his being rebelled, but his father was steadfast.
“What do ye suggest?” It took more control than Gahan thought he had to ask the question. His father didn’t answer. Instead, he began to tap the top of his desk with a fingertip.
Gahan knew the gesture. His father didn’t have a solution. It was chilling, because there was a great deal of truth in what his sire had said. There was no way to force Achaius to relinquish Moira.
She was beyond his reach.
So the solution was clear. He’d have to find a way to make Achaius bring her to him.
***
“Enough! Yer sniveling brother is gone.”
The retainer shoved Sandra’s bag of food through the opening in the door and closed it. She’d heard him leaving and knew it was true.
Bari was gone.
Her door had been guarded every day he’d been at Dunrobin, but now there was only the wind whistling through the open window. She walked to the cot and put on her undergown. Loneliness was a vicious thing, ripping into her self-confidence and leaving her prey to despair. Through the window, all she could see was the ocean. It was all she might ever see.
For the first few months, she’d laughed at Gahan Sutherland’s inability to hang her. She’d thought him a weak fool. But now she wondered if he was in fact a far more sinister creature than she’d realized. Her imprisonment was a slow torment. Death would have been swift and taken her away from counting the days.
She trailed her fingers along her hands, appreciating how smooth her skin was. She was wasting her beauty inside the tower room. Was there no force in heaven or hell willing to help her?
She’d swear allegiance to the first one who appeared.
***
“Ye are hatching some plot.”
Norris came through the secret passageway into Gahan’s room an hour before daybreak. Gahan looked up for only a moment before resuming his preparations. His sword was almost ready, the blade shining from the oil he’d applied to the sharpening stone.
“And I want to know what it is,” Norris continued.
“I will nae disobey Father,” Gahan replied.
Norris crossed his arms over his chest. “That is nae an answer.”
“I am leaving within the hour,” he admitted.
Norris grunted. “As if I cannae see ye are making ready to depart. Where are ye going?”
Gahan held up the sword and inspected the blade with a critical eye. He made his brother wait while he slid it into its sheath and put the leather harness over his shoulder.
“Gahan? Do I really have to run to Father and tell on ye?”
Gahan shot his brother a deadly look. “Ye were willing to defy our sire to have Daphne, and I held me tongue.”
Norris sighed. “That’s true, but I was heading to Court, nae somewhere where it was likely I’d have me throat cut. Father forbid ye from Matheson land for good reason. I agree with him.”
“I am nae going to Matheson land.” He picked up his bonnet and adjusted his sword. “But I swear I am coming back with Moira, and I’d appreciate it if ye’d go back to bed. Go lie down next to the woman ye love and remember that nothing would have kept ye from having her.”
“Aye,” Norris agreed.
“And do nae insult me by worrying I’ll break me word to Father.”
Norris drew in a deep breath but let it out before nodding. He offered Gahan his hand then turned and disappeared into the secret passage. A moment later, Saer MacLeod moved into the main chamber from one of the small adjoining chambers. Cam followed, and Gahan nodded in approval as he watched the two men bring forth the means of getting Achaius out of his tower.
Sandra Fraser was paler but still a beauty—a deadly one, but Gahan was going to put her to good use. He wasn’t breaking his word, but he was taking a chance with his father’s good will.
For the first time in his life, he was willing to do so.
“So ye plan to use me as bait?” she questioned in a sultry voice.
“I do,” Gahan informed her. “Consider it the cost of sparing yer life.”
She fluttered her eyelashes. “I suppose that is a fair trade.” She held up a single finger. “But I want yer word ye will keep yer promise to set me free even if Achaius does nae step into yer trap.”
“As long as ye stay off Sutherland land, it is done.”
“What of yer father?” Sandra asked.
“He left yer life in me hands.” Gahan raked her with a hard look. “Do nae forget that, for I swear I will run ye through if ye try to wrong me.”
It was a risky gamble, and he was sure many would argue the risk outweighed the gain.
Not to him. Regaining Moira was worth any risk.