Highland Grace (8 page)

He fingered the gold piece as if it were the
made of the finest silk. “My mother’s last treasure,” he said, his
voice, far away. But when his gaze lifted, it snapped and spit
daggers at her again. “If I’d only known to whom I’d bestowed this
gift, I’d never have done it. ‘Twas a mockery of my mother’s
memory.”

“Please, Bao. Tell me what it is you think
I’ve done—what have I done to deserve so much censure from you?
What?”

“Ask your brother.”

That gave her pause. “He’s dead. I told
you.”

“Then I suppose ‘twill be for you to puzzle
out, will it not?” A gleam lit his eye. “Come closer.”

Her pulse raced. “Why?”

“Come closer.”

She took a step toward him. They were a mere
few inches from each other now and she could feel the waves of heat
flowing from him and moving over her skin. He trailed his finger
along the neckline of her chemise and she jumped. In spite of her
belief that she held no warm feelings for this twisted version of
Bao, her skin tingled and burned where he touched her. And when the
digit did a slow glide over the mound of her breast, circled its
peak, her center melted, her breath caught.

He bent and slid his tongue over her lower
lip. “Remember me tonight while I’m between my lover’s thighs,” he
murmured and then he left. Left her standing, stupefied and
unsatisfied, in the center of the front chamber of her cottage.

After a moment, she stomped her feet,
yelling, “Ahhh! I hate you!” then flew into her chamber and threw
herself across her bed. Stuffing her pillow into her mouth, she
screamed for all she was worth.

* * *

Bao heard the angry outburst and grinned in
spite of his pique. ‘Twas good to finally get a rise out of her
after all these days. But for now, a long, icy dip at the waterfall
should cool his raging lust for her. Certainly fucking other women
wasn’t the answer. His body hadn’t cooperated in that endeavor
since his first and only taste of her. His one and only attempt to
service a client back in Perth after returning had ended in
disgrace for him and recriminations from the lady.

And what he was going to do to kill the
vestiges of tenderness he still felt for Jesslyn, he had no clue.
His anger was working against him. Where he’d thought to humiliate,
he’d only succeeded in raising his own need. And Jesslyn’s calm
compliance had been like steel talons shredding his insides. ‘Twas
too much as his mother had been with his father—and that made Bao’s
stomach churn. He wanted her to know what it was to be under
another’s control—to have pride, but to be punished for asserting
it. He wanted her to feel remorse for what her greed had wrought.
He never wanted to break her spirit completely.

Besides, this anger, this bitterness,
couldn’t go on much longer. Even with the role she’d played in his
mother’s downfall, he couldn’t live with her day after day and
continue the acrimony. For one thing, she carried his child, and
that child deserved a—if not loving home—a home with no rancor. And
so did Alleck. Alleck had asked repeatedly for them to come back to
the keep. He wanted them close by. And Bao was having a harder and
harder time coming up with excuses why that could not be.

But something in him couldn’t let go of the
need to punish her. Not yet. So, with a sigh of resignation he
headed toward the waterfall.

* * *

A bit over a sennight later, Daniel detained
Bao in the great hall after the rest of the family retired for the
evening. “What the hell is going on between you and Jesslyn?”

Bao crossed his arms over his chest and
scowled. “Why is this your business?”

“She’s the widow of my best friend, and I
swore to protect her.”

“She’s
my wife
, not
his
widow.”

“Aye, and I haven’t seen one smile reach her
eyes in the days since you made her such.” His gaze narrowed on
Bao. “And now that I think on it, I’ve not seen such from you,
either.”

Bao shrugged.

“Branwenn believes you’re much changed from
the man she’s known all her life. She sees more anger in you, a
sharpness of tongue that wasn’t there before and worries that you
are flaying Jesslyn with it.”

“What’s between Jesslyn and me will remain
between Jesslyn and me.”

“Not if I banish you from the keep.”

“She’ll go with me.”

“Nay, she’ll not. Both she and Alleck are my
responsibility and I’ll not stand silent while they are hurt.”

Bao growled and leapt on Daniel. They both
fell to the floor and Bao held Daniel down with his arm over
Daniel’s throat. “Do not threaten me,
brother,
else you’ll
feel the full measure of my wrath.”

Daniel kneed him in the groin and Bao rolled
off of him. “You fight like a lass,” Bao wheezed.

“Either tell me what’s going on or leave—and
one more attack like that and I’ll call the guards. You’ll be out
without horse or weapon.”

Bao rolled to his side and lay there unmoving
for a minute or two more, waiting for the stars to clear and the
searing pain to recede.

He heard the sound of his brother’s footsteps
as he walked over to the buttery, heard the familiar sound of
liquid pouring into metal cups, and finally Daniel’s footsteps
coming toward him once more. Bao felt him standing over him and
cracked an eye open. “All right. I’ll tell you.”

* * *

“After the Constable’s words to me,” Bao said
a few minutes later, “I found and spoke with several knights—all of
them squires at the time—who’d made the journey with Malcolm to
fight the infidels in the holy land. They confirmed that he’d left
his post and become a slave trader. Evidently, ‘twas a much more
profitable venture.” Bao’s hands fisted at his sides. “My
suspicion—my curiosity—was heightened, and I couldn’t rest until I
knew whether ‘twas him that sold my mother to our father.”

“And was it?”

“Aye. Malcolm MacGorie used thieves to fill
his slave cages. This was unusual, as most slaves are spoils of
war. All knew it, and all knew how he obtained his prizes, but
still it was allowed. My mother’s capture had been a boon to
Malcolm, for she’d been a relative to royalty and worth a much
higher price on the slave block.”

Daniel nodded, rubbing his finger across his
lower lip as he gazed at the fire crackling in the hearth. “That
would have been early on, mayhap as early as 1177 or 78, which is
five or six years prior to Jesslyn’s birth—tell me why you blame
her
for this.”

“Because she profited from my mother’s and
others’ misfortune!”

“But, if she did not know, how is she
culpable?”

“Ahh, but she did.”

“Why has she never said such to me? She’s
only spoken of him as her brave brother, a knight fighting for God
in the holy land against the infidels.”

“I know not. But ‘tis truth. I’ve got a
missive from the brother which proves it.”

“Show it to me.”

Bao reached into the pouch on his belt.

“You carry it with you?”

“Aye, I’m never without it. I look at it
whenever I feel myself mellowing in my anger toward her.” He handed
the small scroll to his brother. As Daniel untied the ribbon, Bao
said, “The knight who gave this to me lost both legs in battle, so
was never able to deliver it. When he learned that I knew the
family and was asking questions about the brother, he contacted me
and gave me this. Malcolm had paid a scribe to write it out for
him.”

He watched his brother’s eyes scan the page.
“Hmm. Well you are right, Malcolm makes it plain that he’s
obtaining his coin from selling slaves. But…nay, this is not to
Jesslyn.”

“Aye, it is. See? It says, ‘To my dear
sister’ and then it speaks of her husband Graeme.”

“Aye, but ‘tis dated in the year prior to
Jesslyn’s marriage to Graham. This missive is to his other
sister—Janet.”

Bao’s heart plummeted into his stomach and
his jaw dropped open. “Jesslyn’s
sister
was wed to Graeme
first?”

“Aye, but that’s a tale I’ll leave for
Jesslyn to tell—if she chooses. For now, just know this: you’ve
built a grudge for the wrong sister. And I know Jesslyn, if she’d
had any knowledge of her brother’s activities, she would not have
lied about it—to me at least.”

“Aye, but would she still have accepted the
gifts with as much zeal as her sister who did know?”

“She’ll do what she must for the welfare of
her family, but only for pleasure? Nay. Nay, she would not.” Daniel
handed the scroll back to him.

“I’ll leave you now,” Bao said. “You’ve given
me much to think on.”

* * *

The front chamber of the cottage was quiet
and dark but for the orange and yellow glow of embers coming from
the hearth. Bao closed the door with little sound and, on silent
tread, made his way toward Jesslyn’s bedchamber, his purpose: to
gain her forgiveness and to regain her trust. But he must somehow
do so without telling her of her brother’s perfidy. To hurt her
again, after all that he’d already done these past days, was more
than cruel, more than he was willing to do.

The moonlight streaming in through the opened
shutter slats played over her flaxen hair like silver starshine.
She lay on her back with one arm arced over her head and the other
resting across her abdomen. The blanket had slipped down, revealing
her full, naked breasts and Bao’s pulse raced. His mouth watered.
His manhood came to attention. His fists clenched. His throat
worked.

He took the last step to the bed and
succumbed to his desire.

* * *

Jesslyn dreamed that a hot, humid mouth
clamped her nipple and that the much-remembered strum of a broad
finger set fire to her center. “Mmm.” She widened her thighs and
the finger entered her and began to stroke.

“You’re so narrow, love. So wet.”

Jesslyn jerked awake. “Get off of me!” But
suddenly recalling his threat, she said, “Or is this now part of
the bargain as well? My body in exchange for not leaving my
son?”

“Jesslyn…oh, God, Jesslyn. I’m sorry. I was
wrong. I’ll do whatever penance you require. I admit, this might
not have been the best way to go about it, but I want us to be wed
in truth, and I wanted to show you just how much I wanted us to be
such.”

She rolled on her side, turning her back to
him. “And what, pray, were you wrong about, Bao?”

“You. I will not tell you the whole of it for
I’m done with hurting you. Just know that I’ve discovered my error
and am set to do whatever it takes to win your friendship, be wed
to you in truth.”

“We
are
wed in truth, and as you told
me the day of our wedding, there’s naught to be done about it, but
if you mean what you say, then I see no other course but to try to
get along. I want my son back with me.”

“We shall move into our quarters in the keep
on the morrow.”

“I’ll not bed you.”

She heard him sigh and then he said, “I
understand. You need more time.”

Aye, and more proof that he’d not turn into
the angry devil again, defile their vows by continuing to sleep
with others.

* * *

The next day Jesslyn decided to test Bao’s
commitment to his promise of the night before. While Bao still
slept in Alleck’s chamber, Jesslyn stealthily made her way to his
sword and lifted it. She emitted a soft grunt. It weighed more than
she’d expected, but was not so heavy that she couldn’t carry it.
With slow, steady steps, she walked out of the chamber and toward
the door to the cottage. As she quietly opened it, she only allowed
herself one quick look back before departing.

She’d already set up most of the scene
earlier. She’d strategically placed several mauled-looking pieces
of chopped firewood next to the chopping block and hidden the ax.
Now, she would wait. She sat down on the block of wood and looked
in the direction from which Bao would arrive. She’d asked her son’s
friend Niall to relay a message to Bao that she requested his
presence by the wood stack. There was no way he was going to pass
this trial. No way on this earth. And then she’d know for all time
that she could never trust him again.

Jesslyn didn’t have to wait more than a
quarter hour for Bao. She was first made aware of his immanent
arrival by the sound of his whistling. Leaping to her feet, she
grabbed the weapon and placed a piece of wood on the block. She
lifted the sword high above her head with both hands around the
hilt and waited for him to turn the corner before she let the blade
drop.

“
What the hell are you doing!”
He
sprinted over to her and yanked the sword from her grasp. He
examined it, running his fingers along the flat edge of the blade,
looking for nicks, she presumed.

“I’m chopping a few more pieces of wood for
my cookfire,” she said innocently. “I hope you don’t mind, but I
couldn’t find the ax anywhere and I needed more to heat the fire.
I’m making berry tarts—your favorite!—and peat ruins their
taste.”

His gaze settled on her middle. “You
shouldn’t be chopping wood,” he said, a note of concern in his
voice. “‘Tis too much exertion for your delicate condition.”

“Oh, I’m quite used to such work, I assure
you. ‘Tis really not difficult at all, at least not with the right
tool.”

* * *

Bao gave his sword another quick examination.
Seeing no damage had been done to the blade, he looked again at the
chopped wood on the ground and a suspicion began to form. Was this
a bit of retribution on Jesslyn’s part? Since the blade was still
in the condition he’d last left it in, he assumed she only meant to
pique his anger. But she would be disappointed. For whatever she
demanded of him to get back in her good graces, he would do.
Handing her the sword, he said, “If you’ll show me that you can do
this without straining yourself or the babe, I shall not say
another word against it.” He cringed inside at the thought of her
damaging his weapon, but she was a much more precious prize to him
than his sword would ever be.