Born to Bite

Murdina stared at Sir Gillanders. She had been right the first day she had seen him. That far too handsome face of his could look frighteningly predatory when he wanted it to. It astonished her that she was more fascinated than terrified. She also noticed that he was fully dressed in his bedchamber for the first time since she had become his maid.

“I have come to warn ye, Sir Gillanders,” she said, frowning when he began to back up toward the bed with her still held tight against him. “I am thinking it might be wise if ye leave this place.”

“Why would ye think that?”

There was a hint of suspicion darkening his fine eyes, although his hold on her was neither punishing nor painful, simply firm. That touch of suspicion stung, however. Murdina did not think she had done anything to deserve it. The man knew she had been told to watch him closely, something she had readily confessed to, and he had declared this a common practice at keeps. He had to know she had told the laird nothing of importance as well for, as far as she had seen, he had revealed very little about himself.

“Because I have just heard the laird and Egan talking about you,” she replied. “Weel, nay just heard. A wee while ago, as it took me some time to get here since I didnae want anyone to see me do so when ye hadnae called for me. They are certain ye are nay who ye say ye are and that ye are nay here to treaty with them or do trade with them.”

“Aye, I had gleaned that much but a short while ago.”

“Had ye now. Weel, did ye also glean that they think ye are something evil, some demon? They are even watching all of their people and animals to see if ye are drinking blood from them. They truly believe ye are some monster.”

Gillanders inwardly cursed. He was glad he had heeded his father and brought a goodly supply of blood-enriched wine with him. It had kept him from seeking some blood elsewhere after he had been wounded in that bout of swordplay with the laird’s men, men who did not appear to understand that practicing one’s skill with a sword usually meant you did not attempt to kill or maim your opponent. That the laird had kept a close watch on all sources of blood he might have sought confirmed Gillanders’s suspicion that the laird knew exactly who he was, might even have encouraged his men to wound him to test him in some way. Giving the man nothing to confirm those suspicions was obviously not enough anymore.

“A strange thing for them to accuse a mon of,” he murmured as he sat on the edge of the bed, forcing her to step between his legs.

“That is not all that is strange. They think ye are one of a clan named MacNachton and truly believe that ye are some demon. Called the whole clan demons, animals in men’s skins. And, Egan wished to kill ye right now.”

“I should like to see him try.”

Murdina ignored that bit of manly boasting. “The laird doesnae want that. He wants ye captured and held for someone he calls The Laird in awed tones. ’Tis strange that he would call another mon simply The Laird when he is one himself.”

“Mayhap he doesnae ken the mon’s name.” Gillanders wondered if she was aware of how easily and quickly he could have her sprawled beneath him on the bed, a place he had ached to have her since the first time he had seen her.

“That would be strange as weel since he means to hand ye over to the mon. He must ken something or he wouldnae be able to send word that he has something the mon wants. And it seems one of The Laird’s men lurks about here freely, for he is the one who recognized you and spoke to Sir Ranald about you. And why should this laird be so concerned with getting ye alive if he is an enemy of yours? ’Tis what Sir Ranald said, that The Laird wants any of your ilk one can find delivered to him alive so that he can discover the secrets of your strengths and weaknesses. Ye have a most powerful enemy, Sir Gillanders, and one who sounds most insane. From all I heard, ye dinnae want this strange laird to get his hands on you.”

“Nay, that is true enough. Yet, I might still find out what I came here to learn if I am careful.”

“What did ye really come here for?”

“To discover who murdered my cousin Arailt. He had a lover here, bred a son, and was slaughtered here as he tried to get to us so that we might help him protect his son.”

“Oh. Was his lover Anne Drummond?”

“Aye. They mentioned her, did they?”

She nodded, a chill snaking down her spine as she recalled all they had said. “Your cousin is the reason they intend to send six men to capture ye and take ye to the dungeon. Sir Ranald said the mon who was murdered killed four men with his bare hands and his teeth. Sir Ranald was told of it by this laird. He believes it for”—she grimaced and looked at him, unable to hide how much she wished she did not have to tell him all she had heard—“he has your cousin’s skull. He says he saw the teeth.”

Gillanders swore and prayed he might have the chance to make Sir Ranald pay for that desecration of his cousin’s body.

“Egan still questions The Laird’s sanity, and I think he is right to do so. Yet, for all that, there will still be six men coming after ye to take ye captive. Ye have but one more night to, as Sir Ranald says, play your games. For all I ken, they may weel have counted this night as that one more. So ye must see that ye have to leave this place as quickly as ye can.”

He was touched by her concern. The news that Arailt had put up a good fight and taken some of his killers down with him eased some of Gillanders’s grief over the loss of a good man, but none of his fury over the killing. The pleasure of that knowledge was somewhat dimmed by Murdina’s disbelief in all Sir Ranald had said. The fact that she did not believe what she had heard, undoubtedly thought Sir Ranald and Egan fools for heeding a strange man known only as The Laird, did not bode well for him. At the moment, however, it served him well, for her disbelief had helped to make her run to him with a timely warning.

“I had already begun to think it was time to leave,” he said, bringing her face closer to his and brushing his lips over her mouth. “Howbeit, I do thank ye for the warning.”

Murdina told herself to break free of his hold, but good sense had fled the moment his lips had touched hers. All she could think of was that he was going to leave, that the first man to ever stir a woman’s fire within her was about to go away. The thought of never seeing him again made her reckless and greedy. She had nothing in her life, not even family. It would be wonderful if, just for a little while, someone would make her feel wanted, cared for. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth more firmly against his, savoring the hot sweetness of his kiss and letting the heat of it flood her body.

Gillanders knew the moment she gave in to her desire. Her whole body softened against him, the faint stiffness of uncertainty fleeing her small, lush figure. He pushed her down onto the bed and deepened the kiss. Desire was a fire in his veins, an ache that loudly demanded to be satisfied.

As he stroked the inside of her mouth with his tongue, softly growling his approval when she began to respond to the caresses and thrusts of his tongue with some of her own, his mind cleared of all thought save that of feeling her flesh against his. He ran his hands over the soft curves of her body and then unlaced her gown as he kept her drugged with his kisses. Tugging her bodice down, he pressed a kiss between her breasts, fighting the need to immediately feast upon the plump, rose-tipped curves. He also had to fight the urge to nip at her long, slim throat, the sight and sound of the rapid pulse in the vein there clouding his mind with the dark hunger the MacNachtons were cursed with.

“Ah, lass, ye are beautiful.” He licked the hard tip of each breast, her soft gasp of pleasure music to his ears. “And ye taste as sweet as the finest honey.”

Murdina was briefly shocked when he covered the aching tip of her breast and sucked on it like a bairn, but a fierce desire brutally banished her hesitation. She thrust her fingers into his hair, the thick silk of it a soft caress on her hands, and held him close. The way he covered her breasts with kisses, strokes of his tongue, and the skillful touch of his hands soon had her squirming beneath him, her body eager for something more.

In a small, still sane part of her mind she was aware of him tugging up her skirts, but she did not stop him. It was not until he rubbed his hand against her woman’s flesh that shock dimmed a little of her pleasure. This was not what she had come here for. Yet, his touch and the way it made her burn caused her thoughts to scatter. It was not until she felt the hint of anger and cruelty invade the sweetness of her pleasure in his arms that her senses returned. She pushed at him, trying to get him to move off her.

“I think someone approaches your bedchamber,” she whispered when he frowned at her.

She was just thinking that his eyes were even more beautiful when darkened by a desire she had stirred within him when he leapt up, grabbed her by the arm, and silently urged her to get beneath the bed. From her hiding place she watched as he walked toward the door, reaching it just as a hard rap at it announced a visitor. Murdina was not surprised to see Egan, although it did shock her a little to realize that the man had such strong feelings toward Sir Gillanders she could sense them even before he reached the bedchamber door.

“Why do ye disturb my rest, sir?” Sir Gillanders asked in a voice that made Murdina shiver.

“I was wandering the hall and thought ye might wish to share a drink,” said Egan, holding up a jug of wine that Murdina strongly suspected had some dangerous herbs in it.

“Kind of ye to think of me, but, nay. I am still a wee bit weak from our swordplay the other day. It may have been an insignificant wound, but it bled freely, and I find I still tire easily.”

“Of course. Then I bid you a good rest, sir.”

Gillanders frowned at the door after he shut and bolted it. “Now why did he come to me, I wonder.”

As she crawled out from beneath the bed, Murdina asked, “Do ye think they ken that I might have heard their plans for ye and come to warn ye?”

“Nay. I think he but wished to see if I was armed whilst in my bedchamber. Mayhap e’en see just how late I remain awake.”

“They planned to make ye drink a lot of wine to be certain that ye went to sleep and slept deeply.”

“I did notice how readily they filled my tankard when we dined this evening, and now comes Egan with more. I think they must plan to make me insensible with drink ere they try to take me.”

“And they mean to try that tonight.”

“It would appear so.” He walked to the other side of the bed, picked up the bags he had packed, and set them on the bed.

“Oh. Ye were already planning to leave here.” She told herself it was foolish to feel so hurt, but that did not ease the pain that gripped her at the thought of his departure.

“I was. They played their games weel when we dined, but nay so weel that I didnae scent the threat. And I think ye ought to come with me.”

She blinked, stunned by the invitation, and not daring to take it as a promise that he cared for her. “Why should I do that? Do ye think I might be in danger, too?”

“ ’Tis possible as it willnae take them long to look to you as the one who warned me. But, also, I ken where your cousin is.”

“I had wondered when I began to think ye were nay Sir Baldwin but Sir MacNachton. She is with your clan?”

“She is. She has wed my cousin, and they raise Arailt’s wee son as their own.”

“Then she doesnae truly need me to join her. She begins a family of her own.”

Gillanders walked up to her, gently tugged her into his arms, and kissed the top of her head. “Ye are her only living kin just as she is yours. Of course she will want ye to come. And, when all is said and done, do ye have any other place ye can go?”

“Nay.” What she wanted was for him to say he wanted her to come with him, for himself, but she beat down the yearning. “Then I shall come. I but need to gather a few things.”

“Then hurry, lass. We need to be away from here as quickly as possible if we are to put distance between us and Sir Ranald’s men.”

“Ye think they will try to chase us down?”

“Aye. If all ye say he believes about me and mine, his awe of that laird, is true, he will wish to capture me ere I can get to Cambrun.”

“And how do we flee unseen from a crowded keep? Many are abed, but there are all the guards to worry about.”

“I ne’er stay anywhere without finding out exactly how to flee unseen if I must. Trust me in this, I ken exactly how to get out of here with nary a one seeing us leave.”

She nodded and stepped away from him. “I just wish I could pack my wee pony,” she mumbled as she started toward the door. “Poor beastie doesnae deserve the fate of being left in the hands of men like these.”

Gillanders stared at the door as it shut behind her. They would be taking her pony, but he would let her discover that later. It would not be as fast as a horse, but it would be better than one horse trying to travel a long way, perhaps at a fast pace at times, with two people and all their belongings packed on it.

He frowned as he thought on how she had known Egan approached before he himself had even heard the man’s steps. It was hard to believe she could have better hearing than a man like him with both Callan and MacNachton blood in his veins. Nor did he think she was a trap set by Sir Ranald. Yet, she should not have been able to tell that someone was approaching them as she had. It was something he was going to have to ask her about. There was a chance that little Murdina had a secret or two of her own.

Murdina shoved her meager belongings into a sack she had taken from the kitchen. She already had bread, cheese, and wine in there. It had been difficult to overcome the abhorrence of stealing, but she had done so, deciding that men like Sir Ranald did not deserve loyalty.

Her heart pounded with an uncomfortable mix of fear and excitement. She was about to mark herself as the one who had warned Sir Gillanders, the one who had helped the prize Sir Ranald sought to slip out of his grasp. When compared to that crime, a little theft was nothing. She would never be able to come back this way, however. She knew the laird had a long memory when it concerned people he believed had wronged him.

Some of her fear, and also the excitement she could not quell, came from the fact that she was about to embark on a journey with a man who made her blood heat with desire. Murdina knew they would become lovers once they were away from the keep. She also knew she ought to be alarmed by that, for she would be giving away her only dowry to a man who gave her no vows or love words. That did frighten her but not enough to make her turn away from it.

She could touch him. It all came down to that simple fact. She could put her hands on the man and feel only calm or desire. If he had any evil in him, it was well buried. Even the shadow she could sense beneath the calm, beneath things like loyalty, love for his clan, and honesty, carried no tinge of evil.

“Ah, Mother dear, your lass is about to become a fallen woman,” she whispered as she gazed upward to the ceiling. “I but pray that, if ye are watching, ye will understand and forgive. I can touch him, Mother. ’Tis such a wonder that I cannae turn from it. And, aye, I do believe I may be in love with the fool.”

She collected her things and walked toward the door of the tiny room she had been given once she had been given the chore of being a maid to an honored guest. The room was dark, cold, and often damp, little more than a niche in the wall with a thin door, but it had been hers alone for a short time. After being crowded in with all the other maids who did the lowest and dirtiest of the chores, it had been a pleasure to have the tiny space. She hoped there would be a tiny space for her somewhere at Cambrun.

“I begin my adventure now, Mother,” she whispered. “Please watch over me and Sir Gillanders. Even if he isnae the mon who will stay with me, he is still a good mon.”

She slipped out of her room and headed toward Sir Ranald’s bedchamber. There was one more thing she had to pack to take with them. This time she had no hesitation about the theft she was about to commit.