Betrayed (25 page)

Fiona clung to him, her legs wrapped about his waist, her hands clutching his thick neck as he brought her to a pleasure peak. He withdrew from her, still hard, still eager, and dragged a small table before the mirror. He had her bend, her palms flat upon the oaken surface of the table. Then, grasping her hips to steady them, he slowly slid into her sheath again. She was unable to look away as he thrust back and forth within her; she felt bewitched and almost detached from her body as she watched the alluring tableau they made in the mellifluous glass. Honeyed fire was pouring through her, over her, and then she shuddered as his pulsing manhood saluted her with its love juices.

Her body was wet with perspiration. Her heart was pounding wildly. Enchanted, she watched as his manhood retired from the field of battle. Drawing her into his arms, he kissed her passionately over and over again until finally her knees gave way, and he lifted her
up to lay her on their bed. He pulled the table away from the cabinet and closed the doors, hiding the mirror from their view.

“’Tis a wicked thing, that glass,” Fiona managed to say as the bed sagged with his weight. “I could not take my eyes from it.”

She was half-stunned, half-shocked, not simply by the erotic tableau she had just observed, but by the fact she had actually felt pleasure, keen pleasure, with this man. He was her kidnapper. A virtual stranger, despite the fact he was now her handfasted husband. Angus had been right. She was brazen. She wanted to cry, but she didn't. She would show Colin MacDonald no weakness.

He looked at her with curious eyes. “Did ye enjoy what ye saw, sweeting? Did ye like seeing our bodies locked together in a tender bout of passion?”

“Aye,” she told him, realizing that it had but added excitement to their lustful combat. “To see us was … was … intoxicating, like a rich wine. I don't think I should want to drink such wine all the time, would ye, my lord stallion?”

“Ye were quite drunk with yer lust,” he teased her, bending to kiss her lips. “Ye were like a bitch in heat, sweeting, and I really felt ye were mine, for ye held back nothing.”

She was shocked by his words, but she quickly realized that he was right. She had been so fascinated by the sight of them coupling, reflected in the mirror, that she had not resisted him even subtly. “I was not aware I resisted ye, my lord. How could I possibly resist ye, for ye are bigger and stronger than I am,” she said, feigning innocence.

He laughed. “I have known too many women,
sweeting, not to know when one withdraws into herself while I'm laboring over her.”

She sat up, glaring at him. “Did ye expect me to declare undying love to a man who kidnapped me from my love? When the year is up, Colin MacDonald, don't expect me to stand before the priest with ye! I’ll not do it!”

“In a year ye'll love me,” he mocked her. “Ye'll cry for love of me, Fiona mine. I swear it!” Then he began to kiss her again, and she fought him angrily as she had that first night when she thought he meant to rape her. Her fists were flying, her nails raking at his back in her fury, but Nairn only laughed at her. He pinioned her beneath him, brushing off her attempts to do him a mischief. Within moments her anger had turned, despite her best efforts, to a steamy passion again. They were well and truly mated several times before the dawn broke over Islay Island.

They remained for several days on the island. Each night the mirror reflected their unchecked desires before Nairn closed it. He had it turned toward the bed so she might watch them as they shared their lust among the tangled sheets. Fiona remained as enthralled by the big glass as she had been when she first saw it. Colin MacDonald had told his brother how much Fiona enjoyed the mirror, much to her embarrassment. She had never been a woman to discuss such things, even with an intimate.

She had been with him for over a month. Her appetite was growing peakish, and he noticed it immediately. “My seed has taken root in yer womb, sweeting,” he said, well pleased. “Ye have not had any show of blood since I took ye. Do ye not realize yer with bairn?”

“I was not certain,” she told him, “since I've never been with child.”

Nelly gasped, her face white with shock, and Fiona went to her.
“Mistress?”
was all the girl could say.

“Leave us,” Fiona ordered her husband. “I must calm poor Nelly, for she has obviously sustained a shock by this news.”

When Nairn had departed and Fiona had made certain he was gone from their apartment, she led Nelly into the tiny inside chamber where the girl slept. Her voice was low as she spoke. “’Tis not his bairn, Nelly! Do ye understand me? Had I been certain, I would have refused the king, but I was not certain. I dared not spurn a royal request only to learn I was not with bairn. What if he had revenged himself on my Blade Angus? I could not take the chance. Do ye understand?”

“What if the lord Nairn finds out?” Nelly asked, her voice quavering.

“How?” Fiona said scornfully. “If the bairn is born with dark hair, he will think the lass or laddie favors me, that is all. Nairn thinks because Black Angus had two years with me and did not put a bairn in my belly that his seed is feeble.
Ye
must keep the secret, Nelly.”

Nelly was recovering. “I know,” she said. “But what of the other bairns he will get on ye, my lady?”

“Hopefully by the time I have this bairn, we will be free to escape Nairn and return to our own home. The king said a year.” Fiona murmured, almost to herself. “Are ye all right now?”

“Aye!” Nelly said, “but ye gave me quite a turn, my lady. Why did ye not tell me before now?”

“Because I wanted that great oaf of Nairn to come to the conclusion before I said anything,” Fiona answered. “Ye see how pleased he was. Undoubtedly he has gone off to his brother to crow over his prowess.”

“They're all like that, these MacDonald men. Roderick Dhu is forever telling me what a fine upstanding cock he has, and ’Tis meant just for me if I would but say the word.” She giggled, and her carrot-colored braids bobbed up and down with her mirth. “I've told the great gawk I'm a good lass, and will not give my cherry to any man but the man who weds me. That sends him off, I can tell ye. Oh, they like a good time with the lasses, my lady, but mention marriage and they flee. All but yer lord. He said from the first he would wed ye, and he did.”

“’Tis only handfast, Nelly. In a year it will be over,” Fiona said. “If I canna have my Black Angus, I want no husband.”

They departed Islay on a gray morning, crossing over to Jura on a choppy sea. Alexander MacDonald accompanied them, for he intended to hunt deer upon Jura. He bid his new sister-in-law a fond farewell.

“I am glad,” Fiona told him, “that ye will keep the peace, my lord brother. It comforts me now that I know I am to bear my lord an heir. War, I think, is as hard on the women and bairns as it is on the men who fight the battles.” She kissed his cheek.

“I have said I will but bide my time, my bonnie,” the Lord of the Isles reminded her. “We will see what the spring brings.”

“I have heard the king say he would call the northern clans to Inverness next year,” she reminded him. “Can ye not bide yer time until then, my lord brother? If James Stewart does not challenge ye, why would ye challenge him?” Men, she thought! They were such children even in their maturity. This unspoken warring between the king and The MacDonald of the Isles
reminded her of nothing so much as two lads attempting to see who could piss the farthest. It was ridiculous.

“If yer king will keep the peace until we meet in Inverness, then I will try to keep my peace; but remember, my bonnie, one of the clans could swear fealty to James Stewart before Inverness and then make war on me. If that happens, I canna stand by merely because that clan is yer king's ally. I will strike with all the power at my command.”

“As well ye should,” Fiona said. “Such craven behavior would merit the severest penalty, my lord brother.”

“Take good care of yer bride, Nairn. She is a clever lass, and ye would not be foolish to seek her counsel in times of trouble, and on other matters.” Then he bid farewell to Father Ninian, who would travel with Colin MacDonald part of the way north before turning south. “Godspeed, good Father, until we meet again,” the Lord of the Isles said,

“May God's love shine favorably upon ye and yers, my lord,” the priest responded. “God willing, I shall see ye in the spring.”

Fiona rode with the priest a ways, which her husband looked upon with approval, for it showed a deference to the churchman. “Ye heard?” she murmured low to him, and he nodded pleasantly.

“I shall see it is known to
him?
he responded softly. Then he said to her, “Has yer husband spoken of his mother, lady?”

Fiona shook her head. “No. Is she alive, then?”

“Sustained by her own venom” the priest said tartly. “She has both a wicked tongue and an evil mind. She will not welcome yer coming to Nairn. She considers it hers and has lived there all of her life. Ask yer man about her, my lady,” the priest advised.

Fiona nodded, moving her gelding forward so she might ride with Colin MacDonald. He smiled when she reached his side. Fiona could not help but smile back at him, for despite it all, she liked him. “Ye have spoken of yer father to me, my lord, but what of yer mother?”

His handsome visage darkened a moment. “She is a hard woman, sweeting, with no kindness in her,” he said candidly. “My father was taken by what he believed was her wild spirit. She was a challenge, to be tamed by him, but alas, he miscalculated.”

Fiona raised a quizzical eyebrow at Nairn. “Like father, like son?” she teased him, and he laughed.

“Yer not like my mother,” he hastened to assure her. “My mother was, so my grandfather said, always mean-spirited. She is one of those poor souls who is jealous of everyone else. No matter what she has, it is not enough. Envy eats at her. She was betrothed to a cousin, for with her brother dead, she became Nairn's heiress. Then my father passed through the district, stopping to accept my grandfather's hospitality. My mother, I am told, flirted with him until he felt he could not resist the obvious invitation. He remained there the summer and into the autumn to hunt grouse with my grandfather.

“The old man knew what was transpiring, but he could not control his daughter. My grandfather also knew that in the end The MacDonald would leave her to return to Islay, which is precisely what happened. By then my mother's belly was growing big. Her cousin repudiated his promise to wed her, but she sent him away laughing, for she thought my father so enamored of her that he would take her with him to Islay. Of course he did not take her. He would not shame his wife with such an open liaison. No woman of breeding objects to
her husband's wee distractions provided that he does not bring them into her view or within her hearing.

“When I was born she would not look at me. I have her coloring, as ye may have guessed, but other than that I am all MacDonald. She would not give me suck, and my grandfather was forced to find a cottar's wife with extra milk so I would not die. He sent word to my father, and The MacDonald sent back a gift of six silver cups with his crest, and a dozen gold merks. There was also a parchment, witnessed by a priest and signed with my father's hand, acknowledging his paternity. As my mother would not name me, he did.”

“She would not name ye?” Fiona was shocked.

“Each morning I was brought to her chamber by my nurse and presented to her. She would not look upon me or say a word to me. Finally one day when I was past two and walking, I was brought to her in the morning, and as usual she turned her face
from
me. I was desperate for her attention, and so I kicked her in the shin. Only then did she look upon me for the first time. She said, ‘He is his father's son,’ and nothing else, but after that when I was brought to her she would look at me. When I was four or five I asked her why she did not speak to me. ‘Because,’ she replied, ‘I have nothing to say to Donald MacDonald's son,’ and after that she was silent once more.

“My grandfather was a quiet, gentle man. It was he who raised me in the early years, along with my nurse. It was he who loved me. He taught me to ride, and the beginnings of swordplay,” Nairn said with a smile of remembrance. “Occasionally my father came to see me when he was in the district. It was he who convinced my grandfather to pass over my mother and leave Nairns Craig to me. I loved it when my father came, for he was a big, bluff man with a barrel chest
and a laugh that sounded like thunder to a small boy. When I became a man he did not seem so big.

“When I was six he asked me if I should be willing to leave Nairn for a time to live with him on Islay. I would have brothers and sisters to play with, he said. A grandmother who was a princess, who would love me verra much. I went with him gladly, but with one regret. I had to leave my grandfather behind, but each summer I would return from Islay to be with him for three months. We had grand times then! When he died seven years ago, Nairns Craig became mine.”

“Yer mam never married?” Fiona asked, curious.

“There was no man who ever suited her, and no man who was willing to have such an unpleasant woman in his house. She could cause chaos among the angels. When I returned for good, she thought to take up our relationship as it had been in my childhood, but I quickly disabused her of the notion. I told her that as master of Nairn, I would brook no foolishness. She would come to my board each day, and we would speak together. To my surprise, she agreed.”

“Ye don't fill me with confidence regarding yer mam,” Fiona said, sounding concerned. “Will she welcome ye with a wife, my lord?”

“She doesn't have any choice,” he answered her. “Ye are now mistress of Nairns Craig Castle. My mother must accept ye, or I will turn her out.
Ye carry
my bairn, Fiona mine.
My heir.
I will not have her distressing ye, and should she attempt it, she will find herself placed in a convent to live out her days in prayer, sustained by salted fish and brown bread. Be warned. She will be jealous of ye, for ye are young and beautiful, and I wed ye.”

When they stopped for the night, Fiona told Nelly what The MacDonald of Nairn had said about his
mother. “I will have to behave as mistress of the castle for as long as we are there, Nelly. We canna allow this woman to frighten us or to discover our true purpose.”