Authors: Hannah Howell
them. “Ye can do naught about it. I dinnae think there is aught ye need to fret about, but I
understand that ye will need to see that for yourself or hear the assurance that all is weel from your sister’s own lips.”
“Aye, ye are right.” She took her eating knife out of the sheath hanging at her waist and cut herself a bit of cheese. “’Tis just that I ken her first marriage wasnae a good one and now, so soon after she was widowed, she is married again. Och, and to such a beautiful mon who has married women mad
with jealousy and chasing him all about the land.”
Gregor was getting very tired of hearing Alana refer to Liam as a beautiful man. When she went to
see her sister, he would go with her. Only a fool would let his woman get too near a man like Liam,
one who seemed able to turn a woman’s mind to warm gruel with just a smile, unless he was
standing right at her side. With a sword. He no longer found the jealousy Ewan, Sigimor, and others
suffered over the man all that funny.
“The lasses have always chased Liam,” he said as he cut up a few bits of chicken and set it before
Charlemagne. “It didnae stop him from turning his back on them and entering the monastery for
several years.”
“Ah, true. Weel, Keira will tell me what troubles her when I see her, so I shall cease to fret o’er it.
Mayhap by the time we reach Scarglas the sadness I feel she is suffering now will have passed.”
She frowned as the wind blew so strongly it rattled the door. “’Tis going to be a verra fierce storm.
Do ye think we ought to bring the horse in here with us?”
He bit back a smile. Only Alana would fret about such a big, strong horse being caught out in a
storm and actually suggest they share their small shelter with the beast. She had a very soft heart as concerned animals. He was glad she did not allow it to make her hesitate to catch a fish or a rabbit, although he suspected she would swiftly and gladly give up her hunting when their journey ended.
“There is a wee shelter for him at the back of this hut, and this place also shelters it from the worst of the wind. I think the monks, and others, may use this place when they travel, for ’tis weel
supplied with wood and peat for the fire and hay for the horse. Those who use it must replace what
they use whilst here. We are following a weel-traveled drover’s trail and they, too, like to have
some shelter along the way as they take the cattle to market.”
Gregor had been planning to stop at an inn between the monastery and Scarglas, but he was now
glad they would not be spending the night there. He had suddenly recalled that there was a buxom
maid or two there who knew him very well. Alana knew he was no innocent, but he did not want
her actually meeting any women from his past. Even worse, there was absolutely no chance his
frolics there had been forgotten, for they had been frequent and he had spent a lively night there just before traveling to begin his courtship of Mavis. He really had been a greedy piglet, he thought
ruefully.
Alana looked at Gregor as she drank from the wineskin Matthew had sent along with them,
enjoying the way the sight of him and the heady drink warmed her insides. Suddenly she felt guilty
for not telling him about her father’s plans for her. Trust was an important part of the marriage she was longing for. By not telling him, she was, in a way, lying to him, and there was always the
chance that he would find out. It would be even worse if her father had broken with Murray
tradition and actually arranged a betrothal, binding her to someone without asking her approval of
the man first. She did not think he would do so, but it was not impossible, and there was a good
chance he could come very close to doing so. That would set a complication in her path that would
prove very awkward to step around. And, she thought, Gregor’s reaction to the possibility that she
might be given to another man could tell her something important about how he felt about her.
“Still troubled about your sister?” Gregor asked when he caught her staring at him.
“Nay, not so much anymore.” She grimaced. “I was but thinking of my family. I left them a note
and all, but they will still worry about me. My disappearance could also prove a wee bit awkward
for my father.”
“Awkward? How so?”
“Weel, I didnae lie to ye when I said I was neither married nor betrothed, because I wasnae when I
left Donncoill. Howbeit, my father was searching for a husband for me,” she admitted quietly. “It
isnae the way we Murrays usually do it, but—” She shrugged.
Gregor violently disliked the idea that some man might, even now, be given the right to lay claim to
Alana. “But what?”
“I am two-and-twenty, ye ken. Many years past the age when a lass is usually married. Many
women my age have a few bairns clinging to their skirts by now. I hadnae e’en been properly kissed,
as I think ye ken weel by now. So, my father suggested that he find a husband for me and I decided
he may as weel do so as I was a sad failure at it. He was setting about the chore when I decided I
had to find Keira.”
It was an awkward conversation for him to get tangled up in, Gregor mused. He did not believe that
Alana was telling him this in some sly attempt to get him to offer her marriage. This was a
confession, nothing more. They were lovers and she obviously felt he was owed the full truth about
her circumstances.
He was going to have to tread warily. He wanted to assure her that she need not worry, that she was
his and he would be more than willing to face down any man who tried to say elsewise, but he had
to bite back the words. It would be just his poor luck to speak so fulsomely to Alana and then have
her discover his courtship of Mavis. Alana would think him some faithless idiot who made a habit
of offering marriage to a woman.
“If ’tis the custom amongst the Murrays to allow their women to choose their mates, I suspicion
your father will hold to it,” he murmured. “I doubt he continued at the task once ye disappeared
anyway. He would be putting all his time and wits to the matter of finding ye.”
For a moment, when she had told him of the possibility that a marriage could have been arranged
for her, Gregor had looked gratifyingly fierce. But only for a moment. Alana sighed. She had seen
the hint of jealousy or possessiveness in his eyes, but not enough to make her certain he felt it very deeply. It was enough that she had been fully honest with him, she told herself, but she did not
really believe it. She was growing weary of telling herself that something was enough when it was
not enough at all. She simply nodded in response to his words and went to fetch the bucket he had
set outside and then placed it near the fire in the hope that it would take a little of the chill off the rainwater.
Gregor inwardly cursed and moved away to collect their blankets and make a bed for them near the
fire. He told himself that his complication was not the same as Alana’s. It was not unusual for a
father to search out a husband for his daughter, whereas he was his own man and had purposely set
out to find a wife who could give him land and coin. She had confessed to something she had no
real power over, something that may or may not have been settled while she was running around
trying to find her sister. His confession, if he roused the courage to give it, was about something he had chosen to do, something that had already happened and that he now knew had been a mistake.
When Alana stepped out for a moment of privacy, he cursed himself for a complete coward. He
could list all the good reasons he could think of for not grabbing this chance to confess about Mavis, but his silence was born of fear. There was so little time left to be alone with Alana that he did not wish to give her any reason to pull away from him now. A woman he was but a few words and a
signature away from being betrothed to would be a very good reason to Alana.
The moment Alana dashed back inside, he hurried out. It was cold and the wind was so strong it
made the rain sting as it struck him. Gregor took care of his needs, checked on the welfare of the
horse, and hurried back inside. He barred the door even though it looked as if a strong man could
easily knock it down, barred or not, and then turned toward Alana. She was already curled up
beneath the blankets, her clothing folded neatly on top of her pack. Gregor did not hesitate to strip off his clothes, have a quick wash, and crawl beneath the blanket with her.
He pulled her into his arms, pleased that she was already as naked as he was. “Thank God that your
cousin doesnae like to get wet,” he said as he stroked her slim back. “’Tis a braw storm and I am
that glad we are out of it.”
“And the horse isnae suffering?” she asked, idly caressing his hip.
“The horse is fine,” he said, laughter tinting his voice, and he kissed her on the cheek when she
blushed. “Trust me, if I thought any harm would come to the animal, I would bring him in here
whether ye liked it or nay. A mon who doesnae care for his horse as if it is his own blood kin is a
fool.”
She nodded and huddled a little closer to him as the wind howled around the hut. Alana shook aside
the disappointment she still felt over his lack of any easily read response to her confession. It had been foolish to think it would be enough to reveal any great secret about his feelings for her. She
was fortunate that he had not thought she was trying to prod some declaration or vow out of him.
From what she had learned about men and women from the men in her family, trickery such as that
was something that could make them very angry. She wanted to build upon Gregor’s trust in her,
not rip it all down. And she had added to that trust he felt; she was certain of it. That would have to be enough for now.
Gregor tilted her face up to his and kissed her, the desire he stirred so effortlessly quickly banishing her troubled thoughts. Alana clung to him as he gently urged her onto her back. She hoped her
troubles never grew so great that Gregor could not kiss them away. A little voice in her head added
the words if he stays with ye, but she ignored it. Their time to be alone together, to act freely upon their desires, was rapidly fading and she would not waste any more of that precious time fretting
about the future.
Hungry for the way his lovemaking could make her feel, for the way it cleared her mind and heart
of all worries, she gave herself over to the passion soaring within her body. She only tensed a little when his kisses moved down her body and she felt the heat of his mouth upon that part she had no
name for. The way his intimate kiss made her feel, however, was too good to resist, even though the
wildness that seized her was a little frightening. She could feel Gregor’s pleasure flowing into her
and knew he was almost as stirred by the act as she was. The fleeting thought that he might like her
to do something similar to him skipped through her passion-dazed mind but was swiftly gone as
blind desire left her with no ability to do any more thinking.
As she felt herself teetering on that sharp edge he could so easily lead her to, Alana heard herself
call out for him to join her. She could barely recognize herself in that hoarse, demanding voice.
Gregor laughed as he kissed his way back up her body, feasting upon her breasts as he thrust inside
her. His possession of her was fierce, his movements hard and fast, and she reveled in it all. The
way he joined her in her release only added to the glory of it all. The way his cry of completion
blended with hers was sweet music to her ears.
Struggling to catch her breath, Alana trailed her fingers up and down his spine. He was careful not
to rest his full weight on top of her and she was able to enjoy the feel of his body pressed so close to hers. His breath was hot against the curve of her neck and it warmed her. She smiled faintly as she
realized she even liked the way he slowly grew soft and slipped free of her body.
Her thoughts clearer, she was able to carefully consider the small differences she had felt in Gregor as they had made love. There had been a strong hint of possessiveness within him, a fierce, manly
urge to claim her and hold fast to that claim. She had been so completely caught up in the force of
her own desire and need, she had barely acknowledged the intrusion of such a feeling, but she could
not ignore it now. It was possible that he had not been as unmoved by the thought of her being
given to another man as he had appeared or wanted her to believe.
Hope stirred within her heart and she was unable to fully banish it. Gregor had just tried to mark her in some strange, manly way. She was sure of it. Alana knew a man could feel possessive about
something or someone without wanting to keep it forever. Men could even feel possessive about
their dagger, and yet they would never attach any of the softer emotions to that feeling. Nonetheless, she decided, there was no harm in thinking it was a good sign. She would remain cautious, but she
would allow herself to see some small hope for success in the way he had repeated one word over
and over again.
With each thrust of his body, he had spoken the word mine.
Chapter 14
Gregor woke from a very sensuous dream about Alana. It was a moment before he woke up enough
to realize it was not really a dream. Alana’s warm lips and soft little hands were making a thorough
exploration of his body. He groaned and trembled slightly when she wrapped her hand around his
erection and gently stroked him. Glancing down his body, he caught her peering up at him through