The roads were easier to travel now that the snow was gone. They made good time, riding north toward Dunrobin. The Sutherland retainers rode in two columns, with Gahan riding near the front. One of the lead horses held the standard of the Sutherland clan, the blue banner whipping in the wind to announce the presence of one of the sons of the earl in their ranks. It was a warning against anyone who might have attacked them. Since Gahan was the son of a nobleman, the penalty for attacking him would be death.
But it would also tell Bari where they were.
Moira scanned the hills and forest as they passed them. Dread roiled in her belly, like a premonition of impending doom. Bari wasn’t going to rest, especially with Sandra back by his side. She was sure of it.
Just before sunset, Gahan held up his hand. He listened and looked at the sky. A shrill cry came, and then another as a hawk circled them. One of the hawks the retainers carried cried out, calling to the one in the air. A moment later, the newcomer landed on the arm of the same retainer.
“Ye train mated pairs,” Moira remarked. “Clever.”
“It’s the only way to ensure a hawk will find me on the road,” Gahan said.
It was more than clever; it was actually quite brilliant. Most hawks mated for life. They had a keen sense of sight and could spot their mate from the air. If the birds were trained to fly to Dunrobin, as this one was, it would see its mate and stop on the way.
Gahan removed the message and let the hawk greet its mate. Cam opened a pouch hanging on the side of his saddle and produced a thin slice of meat for the raptor.
“That fucking bitch,” Gahan swore. He handed the scrap of parchment over to Cam and turned to speak to Moira.
“Yer sister Sandra is on her way to the king to cry for justice. They stopped on Cameron land.”
“They clearly do nae understand that Bjorn Lindsey is friendly with yer father,” Cam added.
“Bari Fraser does nae care much for what others think when it conflicts with his own whims,” Moira informed them.
For a moment, Cam and Gahan stared at her. The other men watched for their reactions. She held her head steady, making it known which side she was on. Highlanders didn’t respect anyone who wouldn’t choose a side.
“Ye might think me harsh to speak against me blood, but I believe Bari is mad, and Sandra has always been touched by an evil nature.”
“She is that, sure enough,” Gahan confirmed. “We must go to Court. They will blacken me father’s name and twist the facts, I’m sure of it.”
His voice carried with it the ring of authority. His men didn’t hesitate to turn their horses around; none of them looked over their shoulders either. Their dedication to their clan was glittering in their eyes. But Moira found herself captivated by their leader. Gahan was worthy of his men’s respect and allegiance. He was everything she’d always longed for in her brother and found herself disappointed by Bari’s lack of honor.
He locked his dark gaze with hers, and there was no apology there for what he felt he must do. Instead, she saw his determination, and she rose to the challenge. Straightening up, she pointed her mare toward Edinburgh.
His lips twitched, appreciation softening his features for a moment. “Ye are going to wed me, Moira Fraser.”
“Is that a fact?” She couldn’t help arguing with him. “Ye’re an arrogant one. Perhaps I shall be a merry widow.”
He tilted his head to the side and smirked at her. “I’m a Highlander.” He leaned close to her, his breath teasing the side of her neck for a moment. “And ye have a craving for me, lass, one I plan to feed.”
He was away before she could draw in enough breath to argue. A shiver rippled down her body as the skin on her nape cooled. The man heated her blood. She did crave him.
But that just might be her damnation, she feared. Because the king was in Edinburgh, and Gahan would be subject to his rule. Everything she admired about him might just be used against them, because he’d do his duty, as surely as she had done hers.
The road was long, but it flew by far too fast, and the future was so uncertain.
***
Norris looked up as a boy came running into the Great Hall. He was halfway down the aisle before he paused and tugged on his bonnet. But he began running again and made it to the steps in front of the high table.
“A pair of hawks just arrived.”
It was just past noon, which made Norris frown. The birds had to have been sent the night before and taken shelter during the dark hours.
The lad came up the steps and handed him the tiny rolled parchment. Norris read it twice before getting up to find his father.
“I should have hanged that bitch,” Lytge spat. He stood up and looked more full of energy than he had in some time. “She’s going to twist up the entire sordid mess. We can count on that. She has a talent for beguiling. Get me horse ready, I’m heading to Edinburgh.”
Norris almost argued but shut his mouth. His father didn’t miss it, either. He chuckled as he turned to stare at him.
“That’s right, me boy. Ye know what I look like when I’ve set me mind to something.”
Norris offered his father a grin. “I was thinking it was going to be very fine entertainment, watching ye face off with the Frasers once and for all.”
“Aye, it will be the final battle.”
His father didn’t move very quickly toward the door. Age had taken its toll on him, but his face was set with determination. Norris followed him proudly. They were Sutherlands, and if they had their way, the Frasers were going to get the battle they’d wanted.
But no battle was certain. With a young king, nothing was for sure. They just might be riding to their deaths.
***
The Court of Scotland was full. Gahan scanned it twice before entering.
The king was approaching his eighteenth birthday, and it looked like all the crowned heads of Europe wanted to keep an eye on him. There were ambassadors and their entourages. Many of them carried portraits of their princesses, hoping to catch the young monarch’s eye. James IV would have to wed, and the choice of bride would be a critical one.
There were also many daughters of Scotland’s nobles. They wore the newest fashion of skirts and bodice instead of long gowns. Their cheeks were darkened with rouge, and their lips painted. The men wore English-fashioned doublets with their kilts, many of them decorated with trim and skirting at the waist. Gahan preferred his wool doublet, and being in the Highlands, it served him well.
Their arrival was cause for silence. The horde waiting to be admitted into the inner rooms of the palace parted as Gahan Sutherland and his party marched toward the doors being guarded by royal retainers. Moira was flanked by Gahan’s men, and she set her teeth into her lower lip as they neared the doors. Gahan didn’t look like he was in the mood to be deterred, and the royal guards were holding iron-tipped pikes.
“I have no quarrel with ye,” Gahan informed the retainers respectfully. “But I’m here to stop a venomous snake from spitting her poison in the king’s ear, and I plan to be heard.”
The retainers held their position for a long moment before one of them pulled his pike back. His comrade looked at him in confusion.
“The Sutherlands fought well at Sauchieburn for the king,” the guard said.
The second pike was pulled back, and their party swept into the inner court of James IV of Scotland. Here there was music and more ambassadors waiting to be seen. At the far end of the room was a set of double doors that were firmly closed, the seal of the king carved on them. Six retainers stood guard.
Gahan was not a man used to waiting, but Court was a place where everyone waited on the will of the king.
It was also a place where informants waited in the shadows. Moira could see them whispering near the walls. It wasn’t warm enough to need a fan, but ladies lifted theirs and hid their lips as they spoke. She shivered, the knot of dread in her belly burning. The king’s father had been a tyrant who faced a rebellion at the battle of Sauchieburn because half his nobles were unwilling to follow him. The Sutherlands had followed the young Scottish prince, but it was well known he harbored guilt over helping to kill his father.
That guilt might manifest itself as a harsh ruling against them if the king believed Sandra’s story.
The doors suddenly opened, and a herald struck the floor with his staff.
“Gahan Sutherland. Enter.”
“It looks like we won’t be standing around after all,” Cam remarked.
“What it means is that bitch has already made it to the king’s side,” Gahan said grimly as he began to move forward.
The guards allowed only Gahan, Cam, and Moira inside. The Sutherland retainers didn’t take kindly to being denied access to their laird, but Gahan turned and silenced them.
The doors shut with a sound that made Moira’s heart quicken.
“It seems you were rash to say the Sutherlands would not appear before me, Laird Fraser.”
The young king was a healthy man. He had auburn-brown hair and a sturdy frame. He wasn’t as tall as Gahan, but he was not a short man. James IV sat on a throne set on a canopied dais. Behind him was a tapestry with the Stuart arms woven into it. He wore no crown. His clothing was fine but not overly embellished. He seemed a man of action more than a pampered prince.
Bari was attired in a very fine doublet adorned with gold pieces sewn into the fabric. The three feathers on his bonnet, which declared him a laird, were fastened with a ruby brooch. Sandra looked like a princess. Her skirts were made of velvet and trimmed with silver bobbin lace. The tight bodice of the dress pressed her breasts up into a tempting display that she made sure was angled toward the king. Her hair was covered with a pearled snood, and she had a golden necklace around her neck.
“That’s his bastard,” Bari spat. “Which is a further insult to Yer Majesty.”
Gahan stopped and lowered himself before the king. Moira and Cam followed his lead.
“I disagree, Laird Fraser,” the king replied. “It is well known that the earl acknowledges both his sons. I respect him more for acknowledging his sins.”
“Aye, Yer Majesty, because the Sutherlands plan to make sure they rule in the Highlands,” Sandra insisted. “Gahan Sutherland locked me in a tower for over a year and then took me to his brother-by-marriage, planning to marry me off to control the Fraser clan. All this after he picked a fight with me brother and killed him.” Tears glistened in her eyes, completing the look of helplessness.
“As ye can see, Yer Majesty, he boldly appears before ye with me half sister.” Bari pointed at Moira. “The Sutherlands intend to destroy the Frasers and claim the lairdship for this bastard.”
Gahan sliced through Bari’s accusations. “Ye ramble like a madman.” He aimed a level gaze at the king. “I’d take offense, Yer Majesty, but there is no reasoning with a lunatic.”
“Laird Fraser’s arguments are curiously passionate,” the king concurred.
Bari’s complexion darkened. “Because the Sutherlands have tried to destroy me entire family! I came to ye for justice! The sort that I understood ye knew the value of. Nae even a week past, Gahan Sutherland, Saer MacLeod, and Kael Grant all threatened to feud with me if I did nae allow them to keep Moira.”
“Is that true, Gahan Sutherland?” the king asked quietly. There was no missing the tight set to his features. “For I see Moira Fraser is in your company, and her brother claims Saer MacLeod was keeping her because Sandra was believed dead.”
“It is true!” Bari raged.
The king’s voice rose. “I will hear your answer.”
“We believed Sandra Fraser dead, Yer Majesty, and aye, Saer MacLeod did say he was keeping Moira,” Gahan said. “But I am the one who will wed her.”
“She is me sister!” Bari interrupted again. “I forbid it.”
Bari reached for her, but Cam stepped into his path. Bari turned back to face the king. “Ye see how arrogant they are? In the Highlands, the Sutherlands rule like kings! They stop at nothing to get what they want, even stealing me own blood—Fraser blood.”
“Enough!” the king declared. “You tell a good tale, Laird Fraser, but there are always two sides to a coin. I would be no better than my sire if I judged this case without hearing from the earl.”
“He’ll tell ye naught but lies,” Sandra implored. “There was nae a single soul who would help me whilst I was imprisoned in that tower.” She whimpered and pointed an accusing finger at Gahan. “He even gave me poison, hoping I’d damn meself to eternal hell.”
“Poison for a poisoner,” Gahan reasoned. “Ye nearly killed me father and had Daphne MacLeod hanged for yer crime. I should have hanged ye to put an end to the trouble ye cause.”
“Why did you not do so?” the king asked in a somber tone.
“Because he knew she was innocent,” Bari snarled.
“Speak again without permission, and I shall have you removed,” the king snapped. “Why did you spare her life, Gahan Sutherland?”
“It’s the truth that I had no stomach for killing a woman. Neither did me brother or father. It is nae a Highlander’s way.”
The king fingered the lion-claw armrest of his throne for a long moment. “That is something I understand well, yet executions are sometimes needed.”
Sandra gasped. “I am innocent! It was all a ploy to gain Daphne MacLeod’s dowry and keep me from wedding another! Norris Sutherland is so greedy, he had me locked away until he could get rid of his wife without suspicion. He locked her out of her chambers, and she had to give birth in a stairway! He told me all about how he hoped she’d die!”
“That is nae true!” Moira argued. “She was in the stairway of my room by her own actions. Norris was very upset by it.”
Sandra faced her. “Oh, little sister! Do nae believe them! Come home before it is too late.” She knelt in front of the king. “I beg ye, return me sister to us.”
“Over me dead body,” Gahan growled. “Yer idea of affection was to wed her to Achaius Matheson, a man old enough to be her grandfather.”
Bari defended himself. “It was a solid match, and now she is widowed, her husband dead after ye pushed him out of a tower on MacLeod land so ye might have Moira.”
“It would have served me purposes as ye describe them to leave Moira wed to an impotent old man while I bred Sandra and then killed ye. There is the difficulty with yer lies, they do nae make any sense.”
“Achaius was nae impotent,” Bari insisted.
“He was,” Gahan declared. “He never consummated his union. If I were the arrogant, greedy man ye are painting me, I’d nae admit yer sister was a maiden when she came to me bed. I’d be looking to collect her widow’s portion from the Mathesons, but I am here to speak the truth. Unlike ye.”
“Ye…ye bastard!” Bari raged. “How dare ye touch me sister!”
“How dare ye bind her to an old man?” Gahan countered.
“Adultery is a grave sin.” The king’s voice was edged in authority. Moira felt her belly tighten as the air froze in her lungs. She and Gahan had broken a commandment. The circumstance did not matter.
“Yes it is, Yer Majesty,” Gahan agreed. “But an unconsummated marriage is nae a holy union. The sin I am guilty of is needing to wed the lass. Something I am eager to do.”
“Did Laird Matheson bed you?” the king asked her directly. The bluntness of the question made her cheeks burn.
Moira shook her head.
“I saw the soiled sheet,” Bari protested.
“An old man’s attempt to protect his pride,” Gahan said. “I’d prefer nae to speak of it. He is gone now, and there is naught to be gained by trampling his name.”
Sandra spoke up. “Perhaps Moira soiled the sheet to hide the fact that she is yer lover.”
Gahan surprised them by laughing. “Then why would I have taken ye to Saer MacLeod? Would it nae have made more sense to smother ye while no one knew ye were still among the living? I’d keep Moira and her widow’s thirds, for there would be no one to force me to tell the truth. Me actions do nae match the evil portrait ye are painting, Sandra Fraser.”
“No, they do not,” the king agreed. “You shall all stay until I can summon the Earl of Sutherland to account for these accusations.”
“He’ll tell ye more lies,” Bari insisted.
The king was growing impatient. “He is a noble of this realm and will not suffer being called a liar without proof. You are his vassal, Laird Fraser, and will mind your tongue, or I will have you shut away until I am ready to judge this matter.”
“I believe me father is already on his way,” Gahan said. “I sent a hawk yesterday, and me father is a loyal subject.”
“Good. You will all remain here at Court. Lady Matheson will be kept in my custody.”
“Yer Majesty—” Gahan protested.
“Save your breath,” he interrupted. “I am no longer the boy you fought beside at Sauchieburn. I see in your eyes the desire you have for her. As she is a new widow, it will breed discontent to have the pair of you seen together. Laird Matheson’s sons are both here and looking for any reason to discredit me. You are also both guilty of fornication at the least and adultery at worst. Lady Matheson will be taken into my personal apartments until this matter is decided.”
***
It was the horror she’d feared. Gahan was furious, rage flickering in his eyes. As much as she detested being parted from him, she wanted even less to see him destroy himself for her sake.
He drew in a stiff breath, fighting the urge to argue. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking immovable and imposing, the muscles in his jaw and neck cording due to his restraint, but he nodded.
The king gestured to the retainers behind him. They came around the raised platform and flanked her. For all the sense her actions made to her mind, her heart rebelled. It felt like she was being torn away from Gahan. She reached for him, unable to stop herself. Gahan caught her up in an embrace that threatened to crack her ribs.
She held him tight for a moment before forcing herself to push him away. It should have shamed her to have the king witness such a display of affection.
But she didn’t care.
Everyone dear to her watched her leave in the company of the king’s men. She felt Gahan watching her until she passed through a side entrance of the king’s receiving room. The passageway was meant for the king. The walls were plastered and painted. Even the ceiling was decorated with paintings of clouds and cherubs. But none of it pleased her. No, as she was escorted away by the king’s men, she very much feared she’d experienced the last perfect moments of her life.
Once again, Bari was making sure she served his interests no matter the cost.
***
Lord Home waited until the room was clear before appearing before the king.
“Very interesting.”
James looked at his mentor and head counselor. In many ways, he was more of a father than his own sire had ever been. “Do you think the Earl of Sutherland will appear?”
Lord Home thought for a moment before giving a single nod of his head. “The Sutherlands have been strong because of their close family ties. The earl seems to command such from his vassal lairds as well.”
“With the exception of Laird Fraser.”
“Aye, Yer Majesty,” Lord Home said. “Yet his sister is a conniving one. I’ve heard that from others. There are rumors she forged a letter in my name and has a seal.”
“That is a grave charge.”
“It is indeed,” Lord Home agreed. “I thought her dead, so I did not pursue the matter.”
“And now?” the king inquired.
“Now?” Lord Home smiled unpleasantly. “Now we shall give her enough rope to hang herself with or expose the others in this mess. They will all testify against one another. Only actions will prove who is telling the truth.”
“What is your plan?”
“It’s simple, really. Since you had the good sense to secure Lady Matheson, I believe she is the key.”
“Gahan Sutherland claims to love her.”
“An interesting claim, but his brother wed for affection as well. It might be a condition of the Highlands.” Lord Home pondered. “It will prove the key to solving this puzzle.”
“How so?” James questioned.
“We shall see who attempts to bribe their way to Lady Matheson, and then we shall know who is not as loyal to your will as they just so passionately claimed. That will be the guilty man.”
The king’s eyes widened. “Indeed, it will prove the matter.”
***
“This is hell,” Saer MacLeod declared when Gahan returned to the main hall. The new MacLeod laird looked completely ill at ease among the pomp and ceremony of the Court.
“Ye will nae find a den of worse cutthroats this side of the English border,” Kael Grant confirmed as he joined them. He offered Gahan his hand and clasped his wrist in greeting.
“The king took Moira into his private apartments.”
No one missed the deadly timbre in Gahan’s tone. They all wore dark frowns as the courtiers nearby looked on.
“What in the name of Christ?” Kael Grant suddenly exclaimed. He turned and strode toward a raven-haired woman. He spun her around, earning a cutting look from her before she recognized him.
“Ye are supposed to be with Cousin Ruth, Nareen.”
Nareen Grant had emerald green eyes that sparkled with rage. She lowered herself prettily then rose back up and turned her back on her brother. Her skirts swished as she made a rapid path toward the doorway.
Kael gave chase, and Gahan followed. Kael reached for her arm again, but she turned and sent him a cutting glance while pointing toward the gardens. They both followed her, and she did not stop until she was well away from the palace.
“Now, explain why ye are here,” Kael demanded.
“Because dear, sweet Cousin Ruth is a conniving bitch,” Nareen informed her sibling with a smile on her face in case anyone was watching from across the green. “Ye never checked up on me after banishing me to the lowlands, sweet Brother. I had to see to myself.”
“I would have known if she sent ye to Court,” Kael insisted.
“She didn’t. At least here, I have some protection,” Nareen whispered. “Ruth is a madam. She has several young charges and will let them be used for the right amount of gold. Laird Ross stopped in one night, and I begged him to let me serve his daughter as a personal attendant. It was the only way to escape before Ruth sold me.”
Kael Grant was enraged, his face turning red. “I will choke the life out of that bitch. She was to instruct ye on the running of a large estate.”
Nareen laughed. “I do nae regret it, nae even now, Brother. Ye men are too arrogant by far. Ye look on women as naught but things to be used for yer amusement. It does nae matter a bit. I am clever enough to see to meself.”
“Ye should nae have had to,” Kael declared in a hollow tone. “I never thought me own kin would prove to be untrustworthy.”
“Trusting others, even kin, always makes ye vulnerable.”
For a moment, Nareen’s green eyes glistened with unshed tears. The fear and horror she’d faced was there, but she masked it quickly when she realized Saer and Gahan had also followed them. She looked at Gahan and smiled, the curving of her lips transforming her face into a radiant vision of beauty.
“I hear ye declared yer love for Moira Fraser before the king.”
Surprise registered on all their faces, earning a soft, delicate laugh from her. “Naught is secret for long here at Court. The king has had her taken to the pink room. If ye have coin for bribing, I can sneak ye in there tonight.”
Gahan stiffened. “Do nae toy with me, lass.”
Nareen offered him a confident look. “Ye may have almost anything ye wish here for the right price. Attending Court is costly, and there are many who would let ye see the woman ye love for a few pieces of gold. They care only that ye leave her where the king has put her. No one will help ye free her.”
“The truth will.” Gahan didn’t care for the way Nareen received his comment. There was a look of sympathy in her emerald eyes, one that looked very much like experience.
He opened his purse and pressed several gold pieces into her hand. “Ye have me gratitude.”
Kael caught his shoulder. “Are ye sure that is wise?”
“The king did nae say I could nae see her.”
And wise or not, the separation was eating a hole in him.
***
The room she was shown to was a grand one.
Moira stood still for a long time, staring at her surroundings. The wood floor was polished and smooth, the varnish gleaming. The hearth had a pile of thick logs next to it, and a brass screen to keep sparks from jumping out onto the wooden floor. Several large windows let in the afternoon sunlight. She counted twenty-four panes of glass in each window, held together with iron to form each window frame. She reached out to trace one of the iron pieces, smiling at how smooth it was. Instead of shutters, there were thick draperies to cover the windows at night. There was enough fabric for several dresses. The expense defied her sense of logic. To spend so much coin on something that was only pretty offended her sense of duty to her clan. A castle was built for the protection of everyone.
Only a palace had such things.
There was a table near the hearth covered by a thick, colorful tapestry. Silver candleholders stood ready for sunset, set with beeswax candles. Two large chairs with seat cushions waited, but she turned to look at the bed next. Its canopy was huge. Long lengths of scarlet velvet ran down each of the four poles at its corners. At night they would be closed to keep the bed warm. The velvet was finer than any dress she had ever worn. She touched it gently, marveling at its silky softness. Like a baby’s cheek.
Yet she discovered herself disenchanted with it all. They were naught but things, and they offered her no comfort. She craved the man who had so boldly declared he loved her. She would cherish that moment forever.
Moira turned in a circle but still felt misplaced. Tears irritated her eyes and she blinked them away, because she was no child and would not weep. Besides, weeping meant abandoning hope. She wouldn’t do that, not until there was no longer even the possibility that she might see Gahan again.
The king had not appeared unjust. Yet she still rebelled against his having so much power. She reminded herself that God had put him on the throne. At least the Church would tell her that. Everyone was in their position due to divine intervention.
Was that why she’d woken up a maiden after her wedding?
At least it was cause for hope, a small notion that allowed her to believe heaven wanted her to be happy.
Her kin certainly didn’t.
***
Saer MacLeod stepped into Gahan’s path when Kael moved off with his sister.
“Are ye sure ye can trust that lass?” he asked solemnly. “She has anger trapped inside her.”
“Aye, but she was always a trustworthy woman.”
“She feels betrayed,” Saer observed. “That can change a person.”
“I have no choice,” Gahan replied. “I’ll nae let Moira spend the night without me protection. Bari and his sister are accomplished assassins.”
“They are black-hearted,” Saer agreed. But he was more concerned with Nareen Grant. She was a handsome woman. Her emerald eyes were captivating, and she moved like she enjoyed her body.
That idea made his blood stir.
As laird, he would have to wed, and there had already been a few offers sent his way. But his time on the isles had given him a taste for females who enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh without pretense. Just thinking about a proper bride left him cold.
Nareen Grant was not proper.
She was inventive and a survivor. Kael was furious and rightly so, for a brother was expected to protect his female siblings. Yet Saer discovered himself pleased to see that Nareen had withstood the test.
Aye, he was a survivor, but so was she. Maybe there was a woman in the Highlands he could want enough to wed.
***
Someone knocked on the door. Moira had time only to turn around before the royal retainers standing outside pushed the doors inward.
Two large men carried a silver tub between them. The back of it was higher than the foot, making it look like a slipper. A line of boys followed, each of them wearing a yoke with buckets of water attached to each end. Two older maids lowered themselves before directing the men on how to set up the tub.
“The king has told us to make ye welcome, Lady Matheson, and to see to yer comfort,” one of the maids said.
They deposited the tub with a soft thud. There was a rush of water as the boys gladly poured their burdens into it. The second maid was using a long poker to stir up the coals in the hearth before she set new wood. There was a pop and crackle as it caught.
“We’ve got fresh water for yer bath, and the kitchens will be sending the hot water in but a moment.”
Two more maids appeared with their arms full of clothing. They lowered themselves at the doorway before moving to the table and spreading out the gowns they’d brought.
“There is silk and velvet and the softest linen chemises ye ever felt.”
Moira listened to the women chatter. There was an air of celebration about them, and it drove the dread from the chamber.
At least it made it less noticeable.
The bath was warm and cleaned away the dust from the road. The chemise she put on was soft, and she enjoyed it as she sat near the fire to dry her hair. But Moira refused to put on any of the dresses.
“Whyever not, dear?” the maid asked.
“Those are meant to be worn outside this chamber,” Moira explained.
“Aye, ye’re right about that. No need to lace ye in if ye will only need help getting free of it to enjoy the bed. But ye need a bit more than that chemise for the moment.”
The woman winked before laying a dressing robe across her shoulders, and then she hurried back to the doors and opened them.
Moira’s jaw dropped open as Gahan strode boldly into the room. He swept her with his dark gaze before stepping out of the doorway to allow Cam and several other retainers carrying platters of food to enter.
Enjoy the bed…
Her cheeks burned scarlet, and she gripped the dressing robe tightly, but none of the men looked at her. Cam tugged on his bonnet then withdrew outside the doors. The king’s retainers closed them firmly, leaving her facing Gahan.
Gahan took full advantage of her surprise and plucked up the dressing robe before she recovered her wits.
“What are ye doing here?” She jumped to her feet, earning a grin from him.
“Bribing the royal guards to let me in. Their orders are to make sure ye stay, so they took me gold happily.” His dark gaze settled on her breasts. “I knew I was going to enjoy that chemise on ye. With the fire behind ye, it’s transparent.”
Her cheeks felt on fire, but she rose to the challenge—oh, it was a challenge, sure enough. The man in front of her was pure Highlander, and he was daring her to enjoy being his woman.
She moved slowly, her hips swaying without conscious thought. Instinct took command of her actions as her blood began to race. She moved toward him, enjoying the way his eyes focused on her.
“Ye have me at a disadvantage…” She trailed her fingers along his chin, loving the feel of his beard. “I was nae expecting company.”
He cupped the side of her face, his fingers gently slipping across her skin. It was so delicate, yet the touch made her shudder.
“Ye should have more faith in me.” His tone was low and edged with determination. He slid his hand into her hair and gripped it gently. “I will seek ye out, no matter where ye be, Moira, for ye are mine, and ye are going to be me wife.”
He kissed her, sealing her response beneath his lips. There were reasons why she needed to argue. But his kiss burned all of them away. She didn’t want to think. And yet she couldn’t be overwhelmed either. It was almost insane to allow herself to be swept into a mindless state in so dangerous a place.
She slid her hands along his face and trailed kisses across his jawline. He made a low sound of enjoyment as she kissed the warm skin of his neck and then moved lower.
“I have nae had any practice in being a wife.” She untied the laces to his collar. “For example, I have never scrubbed a back.”
“I am fresh from the tub, lass, so that will nae need doing.” He pulled his sword off his back and leaned it up against the wall by the bed. But he sat down on one of the chairs and extended his foot toward her.
“But ye could show me how well ye disrobe me.” There was a wicked promise in his tone. “I believe it’s a skill ye’ll have need of. Very often.”
She grasped the ends of the tie that held his boots closed and loosened the knot. As she leaned forward to work the tie along the antler horn buttons, he took the opportunity to look down her chemise.
“Ye have the sweetest pink nipples.”
She straightened but realized she was ruining the game. There was a sense of control when she held his attention. It was something she’d heard whispers of—that time when a woman enchanted a man in lovemaking.
She took her time with the second boot, drawing a long chuckle from Gahan.
“Ye are toying with me, Moira.”
She set the boot next to its twin and placed her hands on his bare knees. The fabric of the chemise pulled tight across her breasts, showing him her curves but not allowing him to see down the neckline anymore. She leaned closer and kissed him. Pressing her lips against his, she tasted the soft skin in a delicate motion. When she pulled back, she rubbed his knees and slid her hands up, beneath the edge of his kilt.
“Are ye going to order me to behave?” She pulled her hands back down to his knees and then stroked up farther. “Of course ye are nae me husband, and I find being a widow quite merry.”
One dark eyebrow rose. “Merry?”
He stood and scooped her off her feet. In another moment, he was spinning around with her held tight against his chest. The blood rushed past her ears, making a roaring sound as her body tightened with excitement. He finally stopped and tossed her onto the bed.
“Would ye be merry if I left ye to yer widow’s bed?”
She rolled over and flung her hair back. She laughed, and the sound surprised her, because it was husky and sultry. On all fours she faced him, feeling more alive than she could ever recall.
“A merry widow can play the games of a lover.”
“So can husband and wife, Moira.”
He opened his belt and caught his kilt before it slipped down to the floor. He tossed it onto the table with a practiced motion.
“Neither of us knows what marriage truly is,” she said as she sat back on her heels. “Yet I know I want no more of the falseness that was my last marriage.”
He pulled his shirt up and over his head, baring his body to her. His chest was covered in dark hair, the muscles hard and defined. His chest tapered down into a lean waist and hips. His cock stood out proudly, the head ruby red. Her cheeks flushed, but she realized it wasn’t with shame, it was with anticipation.
She was exactly where she wanted to be.
He started to move toward her, but she held up her hand. He froze, waiting on her whim. There was something in his eyes that pleased her, a flicker of expectation that filled her with confidence. He was waiting for her to please him. Not because he demanded it of her, but because she wanted to be his lover.
She eased up her chemise, baring her thighs. His dark gaze settled on the naked skin, his lips thinning as she tugged the fabric higher. Her heart was beating hard but not racing. It felt deeper, more sensual than any experience she’d ever had. She paused with the fabric just covering her mons.
“Now I know ye’re teasing me,” he groaned.
“Aye,” she admitted before raising the chemise all the way up and letting it fall to the surface of the bed. “But only because I want to be yer lover, nae just yer conquest.”
“Those can be one and the same, lass.”
His voice was so deep it almost sounded like he was purring. A promise was brewing in his eyes, and need began to twist her insides. He moved toward her, placing his hands on her thighs and stroking her the same way she had him. She gasped, the contact between their flesh sending ripples of awareness through her.
“A lover returns the favors given…” He leaned down and kissed one puckered nipple. Sensation jolted her as he crawled farther up the bed.
She had to lean back, far back until she was lying on the bed. A pleased grin split his lips and he captured the same nipple and sucked it hungrily. She’d never realized a man’s mouth might be so warm. It was searing and set her insides to boiling. Her clit was throbbing for attention, desire ripping through the teasing mood she’d been in. She reached for him, but he lifted away from her, his eyes burning.
“Nae just yet, lass…” He gripped her knees and spread her thighs. “I seem to recall ye tormenting me with yer sweet lips.”
He was going to make her wait for it though. First, he stroked her, cupping her breasts and petting her belly with motions so slow she found it hard to remain still. Every inch of her skin began clamoring for contact. She didn’t want to keep her eyes open either. It was like her sight interfered with her body feeling everything it might. She closed her eyes and arched into his touch, a tiny moan escaping her lips when he stopped just above her mons. He rubbed her belly, making a small circle that drove her mad with frustration. Anticipation was heightening all of her senses, intensifying every single touch.
“Ye are beautiful, Moira.” He leaned down and kissed her belly. “I do nae think I have told ye how fair ye are.”
She opened her eyes and gasped when she watched him shift his attention to her mons. He toyed with her curls for a moment before leaning down to kiss her clitoris.
“Holy mother of Christ!” she swore as she jerked. She didn’t really gain any distance, because the hand he had resting on her belly pressed her down to the surface of the bed.
“Now who is bringing Christ into inappropriate moments?” he teased her.
“Well, I did nae expect ye to kiss me…there.”
He settled his thumb on the spot he’d kissed, working it back and forth until the folds of her slit parted to allow him to touch her clitoris.
“Ye licked me cock.” There wasn’t a hint of shame in his tone. No, in fact there was the definite ring of promise.
“Ye cannae mean to…” Her mouth went dry, and her tongue refused to finish her thought.
“I swear there is nothing that could tear me away.”
Her eyes remained wide as he lowered his head and made good on his promise. She bucked again, the level of heat almost too much to bear. It was searing and intense. She’d never felt so much sensation, except for when he was inside her. She craved the man in an unnatural manner. She clawed at the bedding, searching for something to hold onto as it felt like the world was spinning out of control. She arched up to press herself against his mouth, seeking enough pressure to unleash the explosion she felt brewing in her depths.
But he denied her. Instead he lapped her gently, flicking her clitoris with the tip of his tongue before trailing it through the center of her slit to the opening of her body.
“Ye are sweeter than cream…”
Every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire; perspiration even moistened her hair. He licked his way back to the top of her slit, this time closing his lips around the little button nestled there. It was almost enough…And yet release remained maddeningly out of reach. She growled as her frustration reached the point where she was sure to go mad.
“Stop toying with me, Gahan!” she panted.
“And do what instead?” His voice was hard with demand. She locked gazes with him, seeing the man she’d battled against the first few times they’d met. “Do ye want me to tumble ye quickly and leave before we’re discovered?” He rose above her, crawling up the bed and trapping her with his huge body. “Or do ye want something more?” He settled himself between her thighs, the head of his cock slipping easily between her slick folds.
She held him, clamping her thighs around his hips as she gripped his shoulders. But he didn’t thrust into her, didn’t fill the emptiness threatening to make her scream.
“Swear ye’ll wed me, Moira.”
She slapped his shoulder and snarled. “Blackguard! To demand such a thing once ye’ve made it near impossible for me to think.”
“Oh, I demand it, lass.” His voice was hard, like his body. He thrust into her, filling her passage with a quick motion that sent the air rushing out of her lungs. “I want to demand ye welcome me into yer bed, every night as ye are now.”
He pulled free and thrust in again, quickly. The bed rocked with the force of his motion, and she raised her hips to take it.
“I demand that ye let the world know I am what ye crave…” The bed ropes creaked as he continued to ride her with a hard pace. “I demand ye never let yerself be at the mercy of that half brother of yers…”
Pleasure was tearing through her, but so was the need to make her own demands heard. She lodged her feet on the surface of the bed and heaved. She shoved him over onto his back and rose above him. He growled with satisfaction as he lifted her above his cock and impaled her on it.
“Well…I demand that ye stop risking yer position,” she said.
He guided her up and down. It didn’t take long for her to learn the rhythm. She was suddenly in complete control of their pace, yet still at the mercy of her desire. They were both caught in the same web.
“Me position means naught if it makes me a coward. I’ll speak up and face the consequences me words bring.”
He bucked beneath her and flipped her back over. His pace quickened, giving her the final amount of friction she needed to explode in rapture. She forgot to breathe and didn’t care that her lungs burned. She was caught in the moment of twisting, wringing pleasure that touched every fiber of her being. Gahan ground his length into her, and she heard him snarl as his seed erupted into her womb. It was searing hot, setting off another wave of delight.
The bed became a trusted ally against the fatigue that settled over her. Her muscles were lax and exhausted. Her heart still pounded in hard motions even as it slowed. She felt light-headed, and her eyes closed as the room spun in a lazy circle. And she did not care. Not a bit.
Gahan gathered her close, rolling over onto his back and placing her head on his shoulder. She listened to the sound of his heartbeat as she savored the moment.
“Ye’ll wed me, Moira.”
He stroked her shoulder and hugged her tight. For the moment, everything was perfect.
***
Sunlight streamed through the windows, since the shutters had never been shut. Moira stretched, sighing.
“I am going to enjoy being wed to ye, lass.”
Her eyes opened wide, and she sat up. The bedding slipped down her body, allowing the morning air to tease her bare breasts. Gahan’s eyes settled on her puckering nipples.
“I’m going to enjoy it very, very much.”
“Ye are still here.”
Gahan was already on his feet and wearing his shirt. He was enjoying a thick slice of bread and cheese left from the meal they’d never touched.
“Gahan, ye must nae place yerself at risk for me.”
One of his dark eyebrows rose. “Ye are in more danger of being gossiped about by being seen with me, lass. After all, yer kin are accusing me of crimes.”
She stood up and found her chemise. “Lies.” She sat down and pulled on her stockings, because the floor was chilled from the night. “I think Bari believes them, and that is what worries me. At times, I think I see madness in his eyes.”
Now that her feet were no longer freezing, her belly rumbled. Gahan grinned and offered her some bread and cheese. The meal was simple, but she enjoyed the moment.
“What is that look for?” he asked. “Ye appear so forlorn.”
“I fear reality is going to destroy this fine moment.”
He stood and lifted the ends of his belt. His plaid was already pleated, and he secured it around his waist. “I welcome it, lass. It’s time Bari’s hold over ye was broken.”
He was bold and determined, just as he’d been the first time she’d seen him. But instead of being intimidated by it, she rose and lifted his doublet off the chair. She held it up for him, easing it up his shoulders then fastening the buttons. Today, she was his comrade.
“I will wed ye, Gahan Sutherland, and I will be proud to say it to anyone.”
Approval showed in his eyes. He cupped her face, rubbing it gently. “That pleases me, lass, more than I can say.”
He wasn’t a man who praised lightly. He was a Highlander and respected strength. Pride surged through her, because she realized she had defeated Bari in the only way that mattered—by making her own decisions and determining her own fate.
“I love ye, Gahan Sutherland, no matter what the future holds.”
She turned and picked up the bodice she’d worn the day before. Pinned to the shoulder was a small length of Matheson plaid. She pulled the pin loose and let the fabric flutter to the floor. There was a soft tearing sound as Gahan tore a strip of his plaid. He offered it to her, and she pinned it in place. For just a moment, his eyes glistened, but it was so brief, she just might have imagined it.
“I love ye, Moira, and I pledge ye me strength and me name for as long as I live.”
It was a vow heard in the Highlands for longer than anyone remembered—far longer than the vows spoken in the church. They were the words of the Highlands and the warriors who lived by the code of honor.
Someone knocked on the door, and it opened wide. Gahan offered her one last look before he turned to face what fate had in store for him. She intended to face it at his side.