Highland Vow (6 page)

“Now, lass. Now ye are ready,” he said, and gritting his teeth, he plunged into her body, ruthlessly battering his way past her maidenhead before he stopped.

Something tickled at the back of his mind, but Cormac had no time for it. He had heard her gasp of pain, felt her slight body briefly recoil from him. It took every ounce of will he possessed to hold still. Cormac looked at her, frowning when he saw that she was a little pale and tears glittered in her eyes. That proof of the pain he had caused her helped him hold on to his control.

“I have hurt ye,” he said, gently stroking her breasts and praying he could restir at least some of the passion he had killed with his rough possession of her.

“Nay too badly,” she said, taking slow deep breaths and forcing herself to relax.

It had hurt rather more than she had expected it to, but she would not admit that. His possession had been swift and fierce, her maidenhead rather abruptly destroyed.
Elspeth was not sure slower would have been any better, and since complaint of any kind could easily be mistaken for criticism, she decided to say nothing. What she found curious was the look of astonishment, then confusion, that had crossed his face when he had charged through the proof of her innocence and sensed the pain he had inflicted. It was as if he had never bedded a virgin before.

Deciding that now was not the time to consider such things, she fought to relax, knowing it was the surest way to ease the discomfort she felt. She shifted her legs a little higher up his body and found that helped her to accept his invasion of her body with a little more ease. The soft kisses he covered her breasts with stirred her desire again and that too helped. Sighing with an increasing pleasure as she began to savor the way their bodies were joined, Elspeth smoothed her hands over his strong back.

“The pain has eased,” she said, stroking his hard buttocks and feeling him tremble.

“Thank God,” he whispered and began to move.

What little pain had remained swiftly dissipated as Elspeth felt the intimate stroking of his body. The realization that no two people could ever be physically closer than this only added to her rapidly reviving desire. With her hands and her body she tried to pull him even deeper inside of her. His movements grew fiercer, his thrusts harder, more demanding. Elspeth greedily met each one. Then he slipped his hand between them, touching her close to where their bodies thrusted and parried. One touch of his long finger made her tense with anticipation. The second made her shatter.

Cormac felt her arch and cry out as her release tore through her. He savored each fevered twist of her lithe body and then he lost the last thin threads of his control. The tremors within her, the convulsive tightening of the wet heat engulfing him, soon dragged him to passion’s heights along with her. He cried out her name, plunged deep, and shuddered as his seed flowed into her body. Reckless, a voice whispered in his head, but he allowed the voice of common sense to be drowned out by the heady delight he felt as he collapsed, sated and happy, into Elspeth’s slim arms.

A cool breeze sweeping over his backside recalled Cormac to his senses. As he eased the intimacy of their embrace, he fought to hide the increasing dismay he felt from Elspeth. It would hurt her. She did not deserve to suffer the brunt of his conflicting emotions. He brushed a kiss over her lips, yanked a square of linen from his doublet, and went to dampen it in the brook.

After washing her blood from his groin, Cormac rinsed out the cloth and returned to Elspeth’s side. Ignoring her blushes and muttered protests, he cleaned her off as well. That little voice he had heard as he had shattered Elspeth’s innocence returned and demanded to be heeded. There had been no shield to batter down when he had first bedded down with Isabel, no blood upon his thighs or upon hers. Isabel had winced sweetly and sniffled a little, but he now knew her little display of pain had been false. She had sworn that she was a virgin, that she was giving him her innocence out of love, a gift her husband did not deserve. Isabel had lied to him. She had stared into his eyes and lied. Someone had been there before him.

Unable to decide what he felt or thought about that revelation, Cormac pushed it all aside and smiled at Elspeth. She
had
been a virgin and it would require all of his attention and skill to see them through this awkward moment with no embarrassment or confusion and hurt feelings. And no promises he could not keep, he thought to himself.

“Come, angel, it grows chill,” Cormac said as he handed her her clothes, then
began to tug on his own.

“Aye, it does,” she murmured as she began to dress, and she was not referring to the slight bite to the evening air.

Something had changed, she thought, watching Cormac closely as they dressed. One moment he had been lying sated and content in her arms, and she had no doubt about his contentment. Then he had begun to withdraw from her. What she now saw was little more than a polite mask. He was doing his utmost to get them dressed and back to camp without serious conversation, embarrassment, or any real display of feeling.

There was a part of her that wanted to scream at him. She was sure he had been with her in body and spirit as they had climbed passion’s dizzying heights. Yet this wall he now built between them made her doubt her senses. She asked for no vows or words of love, even though she ached to hear them. He could, however, give her something beside this cool gentleness he now showed her. Even a few empty flatteries would be acceptable. She felt irrevocably changed. Something wondrous had happened between them, but for all the depth of feeling he was showing, she could have simply scraped her knee.

It was not easy but she caged her riotous emotions. She equaled his air of friendly calm interspersed with light banter as she gathered her clean clothes and followed him back to their camp. The quickest way to lose him now would be to push too hard. Elspeth knew she had to be patient and understanding. She even had to swallow some of her pride. She also knew it was probably going to be one of the hardest things she had ever done.

Cormac frowned, glancing at Elspeth’s slim, blanket-shrouded form as he banked the fire. She had not made any demands, cried any tears, or forced him to discuss what had happened between them. He should be pleased that she was so calm, so indefatigably reasonable, but he was not. She had just lost her chastity on a riverbank to a man who gave her no words of love or promises of marriage, yet she acted as if she was quite accustomed to having a lover. He decided the reason he was troubled by that was because it was confusing. She was confusing.

The passion he had just shared with her also left him troubled. It was the best, the sweetest, the fiercest he had ever known. Better than he had ever enjoyed with Isabel. That not only dismayed him—it frightened him. Worse, he was not cured of wanting Elspeth. Despite having been utterly sated only a few hours ago, he was aching to love her again.

Guilt also pinched at him. Guilt for having betrayed Isabel, for enjoying lovemaking with Elspeth so much, and for wanting to do it again and again until he could not walk. And guilt for taking Elspeth’s maidenhead when he knew he could not offer her more than a brief affair. The worst was the guilt he felt for losing control so completely he had spilled his seed inside of her—something he had rarely done with Isabel. He had the chilling feeling that, if he made love to Elspeth again, the same thing would happen. She was some madness in his blood and he did not know what to do about it.

As he moved to stand near their rough bed, he thought about separating himself from her. He sighed, for he could not do it. Elspeth still suffered from bad dreams, still needed the comfort of someone close at hand. Now that they had made love, there was no longer any reason to keep himself apart. And if he tried to sleep apart from her now, he
knew he would hurt her feelings and he could not do that, either.

When he slid in beside her, she turned and cuddled up next to him. His body immediately tightened with need and he inwardly cursed himself. Once he could try to excuse as an unthinking moment of blind passion, but if he continued to make love to her, he would be silently promising her more than he had to give. She began to caress his chest and he quickly stopped her by catching her hand firmly in his. At least tonight he could push her away with good reason—one that would not insult or hurt her or even hint at his own emotional turmoil.

“Nay, lass,” he said and brushed a kiss over her forehead. “Ye are sore and must needs heal.”

“Aye, there is a wee bit of tenderness,” she agreed. “I probably should have sat in the water for a while to ease it.”

“Oh, aye, turning your sweet parts into ice is a sure cure.”

She giggled, not only at his words, but at the glimpse of the old Cormac that slipped through the strange shield he had put between them. “Ye regret it, dinnae ye?”

He sighed and combed his fingers through her hair as he groped for a way to be truthful yet kind. “Aye, but nay because it was with you. I wanted you and ’twas the sweetest I have e’er tasted, but I should ne’er have tasted it. I should have resisted temptation, for I cannae give ye any more than that.”

That hurt, but Elspeth told herself to be sensible. One tussle on a riverbank was not enough to break Isabel’s grip on him. “I dinnae believe I asked ye to give me more.”

“Ye should. A weelborn lass like ye should be demanding more. Ye should have saved that gift for your husband.”

“I am nearly twenty and havenae met any mon I wanted for a husband or a lover. Ye make me burn. Mayhap I decided that, e’en though ye say ye can give me no more than a brief love affair, I had waited long enough for that more ye speak of. Now I would just take what I wanted.”

“For a lass like ye such recklessness can have serious consequences.

“That is my trouble to face, nay yours.”

“Elspeth…”

She brushed her lips over his, stopping his words. “Nay more. I have both the wit and the will to say nay to a mon. I didnae want to say it to ye. Just accept that and cast aside your guilt for ye havenae earned it. I am a woman grown, nay a child ye need to protect or decide things for. Let it lie, Cormac. Talking on it too much will have us saying things neither of us wants to hear.” She made herself comfortable in his arms. “Rest. ’Tis what I intend to do.”

He stared up at the stars and wished he could see things so clearly. She offered him passion without fetters and he ached to accept it. Yet instinct told him it was already far from that simple.

As the door shut behind Cormac, Elspeth cursed and looked around the room for something she could throw. When she had fallen asleep in his arms last night she had thought that everything was settled, that she had eased his concerns. He did not know that she had been lying through her teeth when she had offered him passion without demands. Yet when she had opened her eyes this morning, Cormac had donned an extraordinarily thick emotional armor. He had decided that he needed to protect her from herself, from him, and from her own passions. He had been kind, courteous, and distant all day. And now, the
coup de grâce:
He had gotten them separate rooms at the inn.

Deciding it was too late to gain any satisfaction from throwing something at the door since Cormac was now too far away to hear it, Elspeth flung herself down on the bed. Now that her maidenhead was gone, she felt that Cormac would no longer feel a need to restrain his desire. Through the passion they shared, she had intended to try to reach his heart, to break Isabel’s grip on him. That would be impossible if Cormac intended to cloak himself in the mantle of chivalry. The fact that he thought he had to protect her from the error of her own judgment was also extremely insulting. It was a common tendency among men and one of their most annoying.

A soft rap at the door reminded Elspeth that she had ordered a bath. She quickly let the maids in and waited impatiently for them to fill her tub. The moment she latched the door behind them, she stripped off her clothes. It had been too long since she had enjoyed such a luxury, and she suspected she might have a very long wait before she could enjoy it again. She sighed with pleasure as she lowered her body into the hot water, the soft scent of the herbs she had hastily sprinkled in the bath quickly soothing her. There was nothing like a long soak in a hot bath to help one think. There had to be a solution to her problem with Cormac, and before the water cooled, she intended to find it.

Cormac sank into the hot water of his bath and prayed it would help ease the tension in his body. One of the maids who had brought the water had given him a pretty, welcoming smile, but he had not returned it. He now knew that he would not find any respite from his longing in another woman’s arms. His lust was firmly fixed on Elspeth, and that one wild moment of indescribable passion they had shared had only made it worse.

“What in God’s sweet name will happen when I finally meet with Isabel?” he asked his knee, then grimaced. Now he was talking to himself. “Nay, I worry o’er naught. ’Twill all be set right when I see Isabel again.”

He began to scrub himself clean. During the night he had decided he could not allow himself to be lured back into Elspeth’s arms. Unfortunately, his memory of the pleasure he had found there constantly made his resolve waver. The fact that she was willing to be his lover, to share her passion freely, and to ask for nothing but an equal return made the temptation almost impossible to resist. It had been very hard to maintain his decision to act as a gentleman should when he felt her lithe body pressed close against his back all day long as they rode.

“I need another horse.”

After considering his meager purse for a moment, he was not sure he could afford one, certainly not one as good as his own. Since, at some point, they might have to flee Sir Colin, a second horse was also practical. Elspeth was small, but even her added
weight would slow his horse down if they had to gallop for any great distance. If it was possible to get a second horse, Cormac felt the practical reasons would keep Elspeth from guessing why he had even considered it in the first place. He certainly could not tell her that he had done it because, if he felt her breasts rubbing against his back just one more time, he would have her on her back on the ground before she could blink.

Determined now, he hurriedly finished his bath. If he was lucky he could buy a decent horse without completely emptying his purse and be back in time to meet Elspeth for the evening meal. If he was very lucky indeed, he mused ruefully, he could accomplish his task and still have enough to pay for that meal.

Elspeth frowned as she sniffed the small pot of scent the shop woman held out. It was pleasant, a gentle scent of lavender, one she had always preferred. Her own supply had been one of the many victims of her kidnapping, lost along with the lovely gowns she had intended to wear during her friend’s wedding celebration. Once she was safe again, she would have to send Bridgit a lovely gift and a very long letter of explanation.

“Is it too strong, m’lady?” the woman asked.

“Nay, ’tis lovely. My favorite in truth.” She smiled faintly. “I had thought to try something different, something a mon might find verra alluring.”

“Ah, a mon.” The shop woman picked up one of the little pots Elspeth had tried, hesitated over, and set aside. “Some ladies say this scent draws a mon and stirs his passions.”

Elspeth sniffed it again, then sighed. “I just dinnae think it suits me for all it is pleasing to the nose.” She returned to the lavender. “I believe I will stay with what I ken mixes weel with my own scent.”

“Verra wise. Do ye wish some soap as weel?”

“Aye.” Elspeth carefully counted out the money for her purchases, smiling a little nervously when she caught the woman studying her intently. “Is something wrong?”

“Weel, I am nay sure how to say this, but if ’tis a mon’s desire ye seek to stir, I may have something for ye.”

“Dinnae fear insulting me. I am in the midst of a fierce battle for a mon’s heart. I will consider any weapon.” She gasped with pleasure when the woman spread a beautiful night rail out on the smooth wooden table. “’Tis lovely.”

Elspeth’s eyes widened when she slid her fingers beneath the soft cloth and realized how thin it was. It would not hide much at all. Closer inspection revealed that most of the bodice was made of a fine lace, thick in just the right places to hide the tips of her breasts yet thin everywhere else. The only things that would hold the gown on a woman’s body were the delicate ribbons at the top of each sleeve. It would certainly be a sensuous garment. Elspeth was just not sure she was daring enough to wear it or, if she was, if she had enough coin to buy it.

“A verra fine weapon indeed,” Elspeth said, “but it may be too costly for me.” She winced when the woman named the price, for it would leave her with barely enough to buy an ale. “Mayhap some of the cost can be taken in trade. Do ye have any ailments, mistress? I am a healer, and I have learned a great deal from my mother, Lady Maldie Murray.”

“Oh, I have heard of her. E’en the Douglases have sought her out. I do have trouble
with my hands,” the woman said, holding them out for Elspeth to look at. “They can ache something fierce from time to time and it hinders my work.”

“Ah, a troublesome thing.” Elspeth set her herb bag on the table and searched for a certain salve she was sure would help. “’Tisnae curable, ye ken, mistress, but the ache can be eased. Dinnae let your hands get chilled and try nay to get them wet when the air cools.” She held out a small pot of salve. “Rub this on when the aching starts, but nay too thickly.” She took out a scrap of parchment and a lump of charcoal with a knife-honed point and wrote out the recipe for the salve. “This will allow ye to make more as ye need it. Best ye get it copied in proper ink as soon as ye can, for this will smudge easily. Ye can read?”

The woman nodded, shyly admitting to a skill good enough to understand the recipes for her scents and soaps. She and Elspeth bartered for a little while. By the time Elspeth left the tiny shop, she had purchased the night rail for half its cost and gotten a few hints on what men liked. It seemed that, once women learned she was fighting for a man’s heart, they not only excused a great deal that would otherwise shock them, but were eager to offer advice. It was the romance of it, Elspeth supposed.

Near the inn she met an old woman selling ribbons. Even though she had already bought two, Elspeth stopped to look over the woman’s wares. Hiding behind the elder lady’s skirts was a small, big-eyed girl. Both were ragged and looked hungry. Even as Elspeth talked to the child, she knew she would be parting with a little more of her coin. Finally, after buying two ribbons she did not need for far more than the old woman asked, she started on her way to the inn only to find that way blocked by three large men. They were eyeing her in a way that made her blood chill.

“If ye would excuse me, sirs,” she said pleasantly, attempting to step around them only to have them move to block her path again.

“A bonny wee lass ye are,” said the darkest of the three.

“Thank ye kindly. Now if ye would just let me pass.”

“And all alone.”

“My mon waits for me at the inn.”

“Oh, aye? No mon would let a lass what looks like ye and sounds like ye to run about unguarded.”

Elspeth surreptitiously adjusted her bag so that her hands were free. She knew she had no chance of winning against three burly men, but if they attacked, she might be able to delay being captured and dragged off long enough for help to come. She also intended to scream, to make a great deal of noise, in the hope that someone would come to her aid. Since she was not sure if Cormac was still at the inn, she could not count on his rescue.

“I will be sure to tell him of your advice,” she said. “Sir Cormac will be most grateful,” she added, heavily stressing the word
sir
, but only the shortest one of the three men seemed to find mention of a knight of any interest.

It happened too quickly for her to react completely. Two of the three men lunged at her. The third, who had frowned at the mention of a knight, hesitated, then turned and fled, ignoring the taunts of his companions. Elspeth managed to get out several earsplitting screams before the dark man got one filthy hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled fiercely and was gratified to hear grunts of pain and curses, but she was still being dragged away.

Then, suddenly, she was free. The men not only released her, but she was shoved
aside so roughly she ended up sprawled in the street. As she stumbled to her feet she saw people watching her. They had obviously seen what was happening, but had not been moved to help her. Sending them a look of pure disgust, she turned to find Cormac standing between her and her attackers, his sword pointing at the dark man’s soft belly. Cormac looked as if he ached to kill her attackers, and they looked as if they desperately wished they had followed the companion they had so loudly taunted about his cowardice. Elspeth waited tensely to see what would happen, torn between wanting the men to pay dearly for the brutality they had intended to inflict upon her and not wanting to see Cormac cut down two unarmed men sweating with fear.

Cormac stared at the two men he faced. They were so terrified he was sure they had soiled themselves. When he had seen them dragging off a fiercely struggling Elspeth, his rage had been swift and blinding. As he had drawn his sword, his only thought had been to kill them. They must have seen that murderous intent in his face, for they had not only immediately released Elspeth, but they had also thrown her away. They had not been quick enough to escape him, however, and he had them pinned between him and the wattle and daub walls of the cooper’s shop. Seeing that Elspeth was unharmed, his rage had eased enough for him to see that he faced two complete cowards. They had not even attempted to draw the knives he could see sticking out of their boots. Although he felt that men who forced themselves upon women deserved death, he could not bring himself to cut them down as they stood there trembling.

“Are ye hurt, Elspeth?” Cormac asked.

“Nay, I am fine, Cormac,” she replied.

“Get their knives.” He pressed his sword to the dark man’s belly. “Dinnae try anything, either of ye, for I can cut this mon open in a blinking.”

Cormac’s voice was so cold it even made Elspeth shiver as she quickly collected the men’s knives. “Done, Cormac.”

“Leave,” he told the men. “I should slaughter ye like the swine ye are, but I havenae the stomach to cut down men so afeared that they have pissed themselves. But heed me: Dinnae e’er let me set eyes on ye again. Go.”

They went. Elspeth was astounded at just how fast the men could run. A squeak of surprise escaped her when Cormac roughly grabbed her by the arm and started to drag her toward the inn. One glance at his face told her that his anger was now fixed on her.

“I cannae believe ye were fool enough to go out wandering about all on your own,” Cormac snapped.

“’Tis nay dark yet and I stayed within the bounds of the village,” she protested.

“And ye saw just how safe that was.”

“It shouldnae be unsafe. I but went to buy a few ribbons. A simple common chore hundreds of lasses do each day. Then three fools corner me, talking foolishness about how a lass who looks and sounds like me shouldnae be allowed to roam about alone. And what, pray tell, does how I sound matter? And how dare ye growl at me just because some fools try to steal what they werenae offered and have no right to?”

He stopped just inside the tavern, took a quick look around to make sure it would be safe to leave her alone for a moment, then stared at her. She had looked pale when he had first faced her after the attack. Now she was flushed with anger. He supposed she had good reason for that anger and was right to say that she did not deserve his fury. She had done nothing wrong. She simply did not understand what she could do to a man with her
lithe beauty and that sensual voice. It was not something he could easily explain, either.

There was still Sir Colin as a threat, however, and he decided to use that to make her understand the danger of going off alone. “What if they had been Sir Coilin’s men?”

Elspeth bit her bottom lip in consternation, for she realized she had forgotten all about that looming threat. “I dinnae think they were.”

“Nay, but they could have been. The next men might be. I havenae yet seen any signs of the mon, but I ken he is searching for you. He has killed to get ye once, so we ken there is nothing he willnae do to get ye back.”