In Bed With A Stranger (8 page)

She should be able to resist the longings twisting her belly. Every inch of her skin was alive with heightened sensation. She was keenly aware of how soft the fine chemise was against her. For the first time in her life, she detested her stays. They felt too tight against her swollen breasts.

Lust…

She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, her breath lodging in her throat. Arousal was nipping along her body, flowing through her blood like a slow-acting poison. Being a virgin didn’t mean she was ignorant. She knew the realities of the marriage bed, and had since she was half grown. But lust was another matter altogether. It led many a woman to ill consequences.

So why did it feel so good?

She should be able to ignore the tingling in her breasts. Banish from her mind the memory of the way it felt to be held against his body. Instead the sensation persisted, dancing through her mind like fairies intent on leading her into the forest where she would dance forever.

Supper was a quiet affair. The night closed around them, the fire a welcome friend. More oat cakes were offered to her, their dry texture making her grateful for the full skin of water. She shivered as the wind whipped through their campsite. Most of the men had buttoned their doublets now, including the sleeves. They pulled part of their kilts loose, wrapping the wool around their bodies to keep warm. As far as practicality went, she was beginning to understand why they wore kilts. The Celtic standard dress required no sewing and could be adjusted for warm or cold weather. All-in-all a rather ingenious way of dressing.

“You’ll be wanting this tonight, ma’am.”

The thick cloak that she’d spent last night huddled in was offered up by another man. This one considered her with dark eyes. She took the cloak and he tugged the corner of his knitted bonnet in respect.

“I’m called Druce and we’re cousins now by yer marriage.” He watched her wrap the cloak around her shoulders, his expression pensive. “On account of yer husband’s father and mine were brothers.”

So he was a noble-blooded man as well, yet still riding with the rest of the men without any finery to set him apart. She found the lack of arrogance in her escort a refreshing change. Each man earning respect instead of expecting it because of who his father was. They were every bit as strong and capable as their retainers.

She found it quite admirable.

Possibly too much so, because she was battling the urge to like them. As a people, she found the Celtic men more appealing than she had ever thought she might.

“Thank you.”

“No need to fret about sleeping out in the open. There’ll be a good watch posted. Scotland isnae as wild as you might have been led to believe.”

“I have faith in my father’s judgment.”

Druce offered her a grin. “That’s the way to think of it. You’re a good daughter to trust yer sire. He’s nae sent yer off with barbarians, no matter what ye may have heard.”

Her cheeks warmed slightly. “Well…gossip should not be believed. It is rarely true.”

He chuckled at her. Druce pointed towards the ground. “Ye’ll want to settle in and get some sleep. Brodick will have us up at dawn. Mark my words.”

All that much better for getting me to his bed.

Her thoughts were sordid. She laid the blame on Brodick. Before he’d touched her she’d never known lust. Now it wove along her bloodstream like wine, diluting her better sense.

She walked over a spot a few times, feeling for stones with her feet. She kicked a few of them out of the way before lying down, using the cloak to shield her from the dirt.

There was the sound of metal being drawn and she sat up, her heart freezing. The flicker of the campfire flashed off the blade of the earl’s sword. He held the thick handle in one hand while untying the strap that held the scabbard to his back. It came free and he replaced his weapon in the protective leather before taking a last look around. He was deadly serious as he noted each of his men before nodding approval. He turned, aiming his attention toward her. Anne was suddenly grateful for the deep hood of the cloak; it gave her means of shielding herself from his probing eyes. His lips were pressed tight as he sat down next to her.

Too close to her.

He placed his sword on his right side before jerking his kilt up to cover his back.

“Relax, wife. It is the normal custom for married couples to sleep alongside one another. I don’t see why ye’re so tense considering yer fondness for traditions.”

His lips twitched and she shot a glare at him that she didn’t even care if he disliked it or not. His humor was misplaced.

Brodick lay down but rolled onto his side facing her. He propped an elbow against the ground and let his jaw rest in his hand. He lifted a dark eyebrow before using his free hand to pat the dirt next to his large body.

“Come lay by me, Wife.” Thick amusement coated his voice as his lips twitched again. He patted the ground, taunting her reluctance. His brogue had thickened and mischief sparkled in his eyes.

“Unless I frighten ye too badly.”

She lay back, shutting her eyes to ignore him. He chuckled at her and the sound ruffled her pride. She lost her will to keep her eyes closed.

“You think too much of yourself, my lord. You are but a man, no different from many, many others.”

She kept her voice low but he heard her. Instead of taking offense at her insult, he grinned. He reached across her body, keeping her shoulders pinned to the ground as he leaned close to her face, hovering above her lips. Tense anticipation tightened around her as she felt the brush of his breath on the delicate skin of her lips.

“It will be my pleasure to introduce ye to the differences, lass.” He pressed a firm kiss against her mouth. It was hard and inescapable, his chest keeping her in place as his mouth took what he wanted from her.

But it felt good. The kiss blew against the coals of the passion he’d sparked in her by the river. When he lifted his lips away, her breath was uneven.

“I’m looking forward to being in a more private place tomorrow night. There be a world o’ difference between knowing the men around ye and knowing a husband.”

He lay down beside her but remained on his side. She felt his stare on her as she tried to banish the feel of his kiss from her lips.

She forgot to pray as her body tingled and longed for more kisses.

Along with ones applied to her nipples.

Her thoughts made her sleep restless, and she turned and twisted on the hard ground. She opened her eyes half a dozen times during the night, staring at the shapes of the men around her. Her mind tossed about the idea of escape but she conquered that weakness by thinking of her family. If she ran away, she was abandoning them to Philipa’s wrath.

A soft grunt filled her ear as Brodick shifted. He reached across her body and hooked her around the waist. Pulling her snug against him, he kept her still as she wiggled in his embrace.

“You need some rest and so do I,” he whispered into her ear as his front pressed against her back. She was a great deal warmer with his body sharing his heat with her. But she also caught his scent and it awakened the need that had been so hard to resist while he kissed her. She shifted, trying to find some way to escape the smell of his warm skin.

“Keep rubbing against my cock and ye’ll have to live without that inspection.”

She gasped, looking around them, but his men had lay down several paces from them. His lips grazed her neck. His hand slid down to her belly, keeping her still as his lower body remained in firm contact with her bottom. Even through all the layers of her skirt and cloak, there was the unmistakable bulge of his cock. It was hard and her passage suddenly felt empty as though she would enjoy having it invade her sheath.

“Ye see how well suited we are.”

“Lust does not prove compatibility.”

He raised his head so that their eyes met in the dark. “It is a fine place to start.” He rubbed her mons, boldly touching it for the first time.

“
Stop that
.”

“Ye’re my wife, mine to touch by blessing of the church and yer family. Why would I stop doing something that yer face tells me ye’re enjoying?”

Pleasure burned up her passage as his hand moved. His eyes glittered as his lips thinned. There was no mercy on his face as his hand remained over her mons, moving in a steady motion.

“Close yer eyes and sleep or I’m going to take ye back to the riverbank to settle this question. Keep waking me up and it will be yer duty to entertain me, Wife.”

She closed her eyes in spite of her temper. Several retorts formed in her mind and she bit them back. A soft kiss landed on one cheek before he pulled his hand away from her mons. He settled it around her waist, clamping her against him from toes to chin.

“I’m nae a brute, Mary. But avoiding me will nae make this adjustment any easier. Some things are best done quickly. That way ye nae have time to dread them.”

She scoffed at him, the sound leaving her lips without thought. He chuckled, nuzzling against her neck for a long moment before settling back behind her, his scent keeping her passion alive and hot. She tried to sleep once more but her body wasn’t interested in rest. It longed for more touches, more pleasure. Her clitoris was pulsing softly with need as her passage craved penetration. There was no escape from the lust as long as Brodick held her tight against him. Her body wanted his and she couldn’t escape thinking about him while he held her. Time stretched, the night longer than any she had ever endured.

B
rodick rose before the sun. He huffed as he got to his feet, his expression disgruntled. With one hooded-eye look, the earl walked away to rub the neck of his horse.

“That cloak is too bulky for riding.” Druce held out a hand for it.

Surrendering the garment took courage because the morning was chilly. But the Scotsman was correct. If she tried to sit side-saddle on the mare with the fabric beneath her hip, she’d likely land on the trail in a heap.

“Here, lass. You have thin blood.” Cullen draped a thick surcoat over her shoulders, pausing to wink at her. “We only left your trunk behind, nae your clothing. It’s all tied to the back of one of the mares.”

Anne fingered the surcoat, grateful for its warmth. With deep slits up the sides, it allowed for riding while wearing it. It was wool, edged in true velvet. The expensive fabric was neatly sewn around the openings to the arms and where the front closed. Carefully knotted silk cord frogs ran down the front of the loose gown. She noticed a loose thread and plucked it free. Staring at it, she looked down the front of the coat to see others sticking up. All were evenly spaced, denoting where pearls had been placed. Mary must have spent several hours removing the pearl beads from the clothing that had been sent with Anne. All of her court-loving sibling’s garments were embellished with pearls, gold, and even some gems.

Cullen had rejoined the men, their voices gaining volume as the sun rose. Clutching the surcoat close, she enjoyed its warmth. Even if the pearls had been removed, it was a fine garment, thick and sturdy.

The black steed was missing. Lifting her chin, she scanned the trail, searching for the earl. There was something very comforting in keeping the man in sight. She found him sitting much further up the slope, his eyes on the horizon.

“Will ye stop undressing the man with yer eyes, lass? I’m becoming jealous.”

Cullen led her mare to her, his voice full of mockery.

“I am not…” The idea of undressing Brodick got stuck in her throat.

“Nae what?” Cullen smirked at her.

“I simply am not.” Reaching for the saddle horn, she lifted her foot and lodged it in the stirrup. A hard hand pushed her up, square on her bottom, making her gasp.

Cullen wasn’t repentant a bit when she cast a disgruntled look at him from atop the horse. He tugged on the corner of his knitted hat.

“You’re welcome.”

He swatted her mare on the flank and she took to the trail. The mare eagerly climbed toward the earl, as the rest of his men mounted. They surrounded her, keeping her mare between them, Brodick watching from his position above them. As they drew closer, she thought she noticed a satisfied smile on his lips, but he turned, showing her his broad back before she decided.

“Sterling.” Brodick’s voice echoed in the early morning as his hand rose, the fingers clenched tight in a fist.

“Sterling,” his men answered, their cheer almost deafening. Even the horses appeared to catch on to the enthusiasm of their riders, picking up their hooves faster. A flicker of excitement surprised her, washing through her as she looked up at the back of the earl. His men followed him happily and without fear. It was a stark contrast to the years she’d served Lady Philipa. Every servant under her spoke against the lady when they were below floors. She hadn’t truly realized just how bleak Warwickshire was until she saw the opposite displayed by Brodick’s men. For a brief moment, Anne allowed herself to enjoy the tide of contentment. But she couldn’t take solace in it too long.

Her position was not going to improve once they arrived at Sterling. It was only going to become harder to avoid Brodick and his expectations. A little ripple of guilt hit her. She didn’t want to disappoint him. Shocked by her own emotions, Anne tried to resign herself to following her plans. Postponing the consummation was critical to her survival.

Yet a flicker of passion flared up as she considered Brodick’s back. His hair was slightly curled, and long enough to brush the top of his shoulders. His shirt was tied up at the shoulders, displaying the hard cut of muscle along his arms. Her memory offered up exactly how good that strength felt.

Pandora’s box…

Tension pooled in her belly as she recalled how his kiss had awakened her flesh. It made her bold, those kisses. The sort that sent good women down a road paved with disgrace. With a shake of her head, she chewed on her lower lip, trying to concoct some reason to delay the inspection.

There had to be a way…she just had yet to think of it.

Warwickshire

Ivy Copper hugged Bonnie tighter than normal.

“Mother, is something wrong?”

Cupping Bonnie’s fair cheeks in her hands, Ivy smiled. “No, sweet, I am just a mother and we always see our children as babes.”

Bonnie gave her another hug before dancing off across the chamber. “I must go or be late. We are weaving today. No more spinning or carding wool.”

Ivy waved her towards her duty, waiting until she heard Bonnie’s steps diminish before allowing her guard to drop and worry lines to appear on her face.

Anne was gone from the castle.

Worry filled her as she began to pace. None of her children had ever left Warwickshire. Perhaps she was foolish to let it unsettle her, for the young often traveled, but she could not stop her mind from turning and twisting. She feared that something was amiss even though her common sense told her that she was only enduring a mother’s grief.

She wished the earl were in residence.

At least that thought brought a measure of calm to her. She always wished that Henry was near. How could she not? She loved him too much. Yet she was not alone in that insanity. Henry adored her and had always treated her well, far better than most lemans. He had never strayed from her side even when her belly was swollen, even now that the years were passing too quickly.

Love…

It was their gift.

Everything would be well. Even if Philipa had taken Anne to town with her and Mary, there was nothing amiss. Henry’s wife might harbor meanness toward them but she would not risk the anger of her husband by doing anything that was truly evil.

Anne would return in the summer, and she would hug Bonnie tighter each day until her family was reunited.

That was a mother’s path.

Sterling

Sterling rose up from a hillside. Its towers were great polished round structures, each one six feet wide and three stories high. There were five of them, spaced out in a line. Behind them was a drop-off that protected the back of the castle from invaders. Thick walls connected the towers, the blue and gold standard of the McJames flying from it. The men sent out a cheer as the distant sound of bells drifted with the afternoon breeze. There were two gates set into the stone walls. That was a curiosity, since castles were constructed to withstand sieges. Having two gates meant you needed twice the men to protect the weakest spot.

Villagers began appearing from their homes. They called out to the men, cheerfully welcoming them home. The fields were still only carefully turned plots of earth, but the sun was warm on her face, hinting at springtime. The villagers’ homes dotted the land around the castle, telling her that Sterling was a productive land. In another few weeks there would be work aplenty for everyone as planting began. For now, the villagers emerged from their homes where they spent the winter months working with leather and cloth, producing goods that might be traded or sold.

Brodick headed for the north gate, his men close on his heels. But he did not ride through the huge opening. He turned and caught her in his sight. There was a chuckle from the men in front of her before he kneed his mount. The black beast surged toward her, a magnificent display of power. Brodick fit with the picture, every bit as strong—master and steed were well suited. He pulled the horse to a stop only inches from her, reaching out to grab the reins of her mare. He controlled the nervous sidesteps of her horse, keeping the bridle down until the mare stopped prancing.

A wicked gleam twinkled in his eyes as he released the reins. He stood up in the stirrups and leaned over. A hard hand hooked her around her waist before he pulled her across the space between the horses. She clutched at his hard shoulders, desperate to avoid falling. His men laughed, their voices hearty.

Brodick laughed as well, but his voice was deeper and right next to her ear as he settled her in front of him. His arm clasped her to his body, securing her tightly. Her body became alive with all sorts of tiny impulses. Each breath drew his scent into her head. She’d never noticed that men smelled different or that she might have a preference for one in particular. A little wave of enjoyment went through her as she drew in the warm scent of his male skin.

“What are you doing, my lord?”

He leaned down until she felt his breath against her ear. Gooseflesh spread down her neck and beneath her stays in response.

“Practicing a few of my own traditions. The McJames brings his wife into the castle for the first time.” His fingers spread wide, covering her belly. “Mind you, the situation hasnae always been this…civilized.”

She shivered. The kitchen at Warwickshire had often been alight with tales of Scotsmen and their raids on fellow clans. More than one marriage had come about due to the bride being carried off. A wedding after the bedding was often the case among the Celtic clans.

“I confess that there are some traditions I like more than others, lass. Riding off into the night with you is something I believe I’d enjoy. The negotiations with yer father were dull.”

“But dealing with my father ensured you the dowry you sought.”

The hand on her belly moved, rubbing over her torso. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the brush of his breath on her neck and the skin became abnormally sensitive, anticipating the touch of his lips.

“Ah, but having ye sitting on the front of my horse, pressed against me, is far more stimulating.” His lips grazed her neck and she started as sensation coursed through her. There was a soft chuckle beside her ear before he pressed a second kiss to her sensitive skin.

“It feels like ye agree with me, Wife.”

Brodick didn’t wait for her reply; he wrapped the reins tightly around his knuckles and dug his heels into the belly of his steed. He leaned forward as the powerful horse leapt forward, moving in fluid motion with the animal, his hips thrusting gently forward. The arm clamping her to him ensured that their bodies moved in unison. A blush burned across her face as her body instantly connected the motion with that of being intimate. Brodick would ride her as smoothly as he was riding the horse, his motions steady and strong.

She had never been one to believe completely in the Church’s teachings about keeping women ignorant to keep them from sinning. Since meeting Brodick, her mind was shifting to better understanding of why the Church believed that way. Just knowing that the man intended to take her maidenhead was giving rise to thoughts of lust. In sooth, she had difficulty banishing the heated ideas from her mind. All she seemed to do was linger in thoughts of how his kiss felt or how much she enjoyed the steady thrusting motion of his hips behind her now. Heat spread down her neck and across her body, the skin on her belly begging for contact with the hard hand lying on top of her doublet. The strange sensations didn’t stop there either; they flowed down lower, touching her sex.

She drew in a ragged breath as she felt her clitoris flicker with need. Never once had she felt so interested in entertaining a man.

“Welcome to Sterling, Wife.”

Brodick rode through the gates, keeping her tightly clasped against his body. She felt more like a captive than any sedately negotiated bride. People filled the lower courtyard, their voices raised in a cheer as Brodick galloped toward the steps that led up into one of the stone towers. He pulled the horse to a stop, a cloud of dust rising up around them.

“I bring ye yer new mistress.”

Brodick’s voice was full of command as he dismounted. She was suddenly the center of attention, every set of eyes on her. Unused to the attention, her chin began to lower, but she caught herself and held her head firmly in place.

She was not a coward and would not shame her father by acting as one.

Two hands encircled her waist, pulling her toward the lord of the manor. She reached for his shoulders, letting her hands grip him. The onlookers cheered as Brodick brought her to the ground. His gaze flickered with heat as he held her for a long moment.

“Welcome to my home.” His voice was gruff, and guilt assailed her. She was helping to steal the moment from him with her deception. The man deserved better.

Suspicion clouded his face as he watched her, but the crowd wasn’t in the mood to wait. They jostled Brodick in their quest to get closer to her.

“Later.” There was a warning contained in his voice, one that pierced her heart because although she might not know very much about him, she trusted that he was not a man who would allow anyone to dupe him without retribution. She suddenly dreaded the day he discovered the deception.

He turned around, keeping her hand in his grip. Striding forward, he took her up the stairs and into one of the round towers.

“Sterling is larger than Warwickshire. Mind that ye don’t get lost.” He turned his keen stare towards her. “Or wander off. The neighboring clans are not as welcoming.”

“Listen to you.” A dark-haired girl boldly interrupted Brodick, aiming a finger at his chest. “Ye’ll have her cowering beneath the covers of her bed, thinking Scotland is full of bloodthirsty savages.”

“And that’s what I love about it.” Cullen added his comment as he hooked the girl around the waist to pull her into a hug. She hissed at him, wiggling.

“Stop messing my hair, you oaf.”

Brodick squeezed Anne’s fingers, and returning her attention to his face, she stared at the unguarded expression. It reminded her so very much of her father when he was behind the closed door of her mother’s rooms. There was an enjoyment of the banter that hinted at family intimacy.