The Conquest (7 page)

“Yes, Father,” she said with little emotion, slipping from the horse before Adelstan or anyone else could assist her.

“It is my fault,” Elspeth said, quick to defend her mistress. “I was saddened by news of my ailing grandmother, and I needed to escape the castle to clear my mind.”

Laird MacKay stared at his daughter and her servant. “Ye put your mistress in danger, Elspeth. Mayhap I need to reconsider sending ye to England with her?”

The blonde paled under the laird’s cold stare.

“Father, Elspeth did not ask me along. I knew how sad she was, and I hoped to ease her pain by going with her. It was not a wise decision and I regret it. Please do not punish her for my foolishness.”

Adelstan’s nails bit into his palms. He had no right to interfere, but he also could not sit by and watch Rhiannon lose the only person she cared about, for something so foolish as taking a ride during a storm.

Rhiannon looked close to tears as she embraced Elspeth.

“Do not let it happen again, Daughter.”

Rhiannon nodded, looking physically relieved, as did the maid. “Yes, Father.”

Laird MacKay glanced at Adelstan. “How did ye come to be with them?”

“I went to the pond for a morning swim, and upon my return I found them huddled beneath a giant oak, taking shelter from the storm. They would have stayed longer, but both were concerned about you, knowing you would be sick with worry.”

There was no way of knowing the laird’s true thoughts, but all that mattered was he nodded. “Well, it is good ye came upon them when ye did, and now it is time ye have a warm bath, change into dry clothing, and take refuge from this blasted storm.”

The laird looked at his shivering daughter with little expression, and Adelstan recalled last night when he had beamed upon seeing his son.

Having been loved by both his parents, Adelstan felt a wave of compassion toward the young Scottish beauty who, without waiting for her father’s acquiescence, walked arm in arm with Elspeth toward the bailey.

As Adelstan watched Rhiannon disappear inside, he tried to get the image of her bathing from his mind.

Lord help him, but the days ahead would be the hardest of his life.

Rhiannon sat back in the bath, staring at the fire blazing in the grate. Elspeth sat by the chamber’s only window and hummed an old Celtic tune while mending a tunic. “I think ye must care for Antony more than ye admit, else why would ye work so tirelessly on repairing that old tunic for him?”

Elspeth looked up at Rhiannon, her brows furrowed. “How do ye know it’s Antony’s tunic? Mayhap it is my grandfather’s.”

“I have seen your grandfather, Elspeth. He is not that small.”

Shrugging, the maid continued humming.

“Do ye love Antony?”

“Nay, but I care for him. I enjoy being with him.”

How fortunate Elspeth was to pick her own lover without thought of consequence. If only Rhiannon could do the same.

Elspeth set the tunic aside and stood. “Ye are melancholy, Rhiannon, and have been since our return. What happened between ye and Adelstan after I rode ahead of ye this morning?”

Rhiannon dropped her gaze to the steam rising off the water. “Nothing.”

“Ye have never been able to lie to me, so do not start now.” Elspeth walked behind Rhiannon, and began soaping her hair.

Rhiannon closed her eyes, remembering the touch of Adelstan’s lips against hers, and that split second when she had forgot both time and place. He had kissed her, and he had liked it, the small moan telling her that much.

“What happened? Are ye angry that I left the two of ye alone?”

“Nay, I wanted ye to leave us alone.”

“That is what I thought,” Elspeth said, a smile in her voice. “Else I would not have done so. Tell me what happened.”

“I think I made a mistake.”

“A mistake. In what way?”

“I kissed him.”

She heard Elspeth’s quick intake of breath, but she recovered quickly. “And did ye enjoy the kiss?”

“Aye, very much.”

Elspeth’s laughter floated to the high ceiling. “Then why so grim?”

“After we kissed, Adelstan told me we should not have done so. He reminded me yet again that I am betrothed to another, and in essence we can never be.” Rhiannon leaned her head back and looked up at Elspeth. “I shall never have him. I saw the look in his eyes, and could tell he felt deeply that he had betrayed his liege, who entrusted him to bring me back to de Cion untouched. How odd he should feel so horribly, while I, on the other hand, feel no guilt whatsoever.”

“Perhaps ye are reading too much into his reaction.”

“I saw the truth in his eyes, and the eyes don’t lie. I’m afraid he will not betray his liege, no matter how much his heart and body tell him differently.” Rhiannon shrugged. “Perhaps he feels nothing for me and was only saving me the agony of telling me so. At this very moment he could be laughing at me and thinking I am a fool.”

“Ye underestimate the power ye have over him, my dear.”

Rhiannon’s heart missed a beat. “What do ye mean?”

Elspeth moved to the side of the tub. “I saw the look in Adelstan’s eyes when he stared at ye this afternoon. He desires ye, I have no doubt of that.”

“But ye did not see the way he stared at Machara last night during supper. He wanted her, and I know she wanted him, too. Every time she walked by, Adelstan had this strange look about him. He desires her.”

“Do ye honestly believe a man would desire Machara over you?” Elspeth looked amused. “Trust me in this, ye are far more beautiful than ye will ever know. That is part of your beauty, ye have absolutely no idea how every man stumbles over himself whenever ye as much as look his way.”

Rhiannon laughed under her breath, knowing Elspeth exaggerated in order to make her feel better. “Every man but the one I want.”

“Every man has a breaking point. Ye just have to find out what Adelstan’s is.”

“I think I know it already. He will not break his pledge to his liege.”

Elspeth’s fingers curled around the tub’s edge. “Once ye leave here and arrive at Almeron, all your chances will be lost. If ye like him, then let him know it. If he does not respond, then flirt with another man to see if it gains his attention. If ye do this and he reacts, then ye know he cares more than he will ever admit. Just be careful and do not let your father see ye do this, or Deirdre for that matter.”

“What if Adelstan doesn’t respond? Perhaps he told me the truth. Perhaps he truly regretted kissing me.”

Before she could argue further Elspeth lifted a pitcher of water and poured it over Rhiannon’s head.

Running her hands down her face, Rhiannon wiped the water from her eyes. “Ye could have given me fair warning.”

“Ye need to listen to me, love. Quit sulking and stand up, brush yourself off, so to speak, and go on as though ye never kissed him. Make him wonder where your thoughts are, and if he brings up the kiss again, tell him ye were caught up in the moment, scared of leaving Scotland and everything ye know and love.”

“He will not believe me.”

“Of course he will. If ye say it as though ye mean it.”

Elspeth set a drying cloth on a rack before the fire, and shrugged into a cloak. “Now quit worrying about what is done. Tomorrow is another day, and all will be well.”

“Where are ye going?”

Elspeth smiled softly. “Antony asked to meet me in the stables.”

“The stables? How romantic,” Rhiannon said, trying to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

“Believe it or not, there are few private places within the walls of Castle MacKay.”

“Have a lovely time,” Rhiannon said before Elspeth slipped out the door.

She eased down into the water, wondering where Adelstan was right this minute. Closing her eyes, she envisioned him as he’d been earlier today. He was so strong, so handsome, so appealing to her in every way. Indeed, she could not think of a single fault or one thing she would change about him.

Even now her body burned for him. She touched her lips, remembering the feel of his mouth against hers, the stroke of his tongue, the velvety soft texture.

Looking over her shoulder, to be sure she was indeed alone, Rhiannon’s hand slipped beneath the water’s surface, resting on her breast, imagining it was Adelstan’s hand.

Fingers splayed, she cupped the mound, weighing it in her hand before plucking at the rigid peak of a nipple. Gasping at the wonderful sensations that rushed through her body, Rhiannon touched herself in her most intimate place with her other hand and ran a finger over a hard little nub of flesh that had her shifting her hips.

Elspeth had been right. Touching herself could be pleasurable.

Leaning her head back against the tub’s edge and closing her eyes, she continued to explore, envisioning Adelstan’s strong, yet gentle, long-fingered hands touching her.

Her heart rate increased by the second as her fingers played over her tiny button and nipple. She arched her hips as a wonderful sensation lifted her higher and higher.

Tendrils of heat pooled in her groin, and then it happened; her sex throbbed against her fingers, and she moaned low in her throat as she experienced her first orgasm. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out.

Long moments later she opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. Her hands fell away from her body and she washed them, as though that would wash away what she had just done.

She felt a sudden rush of embarrassment, but it soon fled as realization dawned on her. Soon she would be married and her husband would touch her just like that. He could do what he wanted, when he wanted, and there was nothing she could do or say to stop him.

Rhiannon had once heard that if a married woman took a man other than her husband to her bed, then her husband would have cause to kill her.

And yet, even knowing that threat, Rhiannon still wanted Adelstan, and having been awakened sexually, she would stop at nothing to have him.

* * *

Adelstan paced the great hall. His men had finished eating long ago. A few played cards or chess, or conversed while servants scattered about, picking up empty trenchers, bowls, and tankards.

Machara, the comely servant who had served him last evening, caught his eye from across the room. She had been watching him under lowered lids all evening, and though he found her attractive, he could not get Rhiannon or the kiss they had shared this morning from his thoughts.

It did not help that he waited expectantly for her to appear in the great hall. God’s breath, but he felt like a boy of eight, waiting for his first crush to appear.

When Rhiannon had not arrived for supper he had been disappointed and wondered if it was his rejection that had kept her from the hall. Elspeth, her maid, had appeared late during the meal, but after speaking to a handsome young man at a lower table, she had sauntered off before he could have a word with her.

Adelstan had been compelled to follow her out, to ask of her mistress’s health, but he could not without risking suspicion. After all, he had been sitting beside Laird MacKay, who had not mentioned his daughter once all night.

Jorden came up from behind him and clapped him on the back. “In case you have not taken note of the obvious, a certain servant has been lingering in yonder doorway waiting for you to take notice of her.”

Adelstan smiled. “I have noticed.”

“I thought so,” Jorden replied, bringing a tankard to his lips. “My question is why do you remain here when you can be experiencing the sins of the flesh?”

He glanced in Machara’s direction to find her watching him, a coy smile on her lips.

“Most of the men have already retired for the night. Go, take what the wench has to offer.” Jorden pushed him in Machara’s direction.

Adelstan ignored the warring emotions raging within him. His body ached for release.

Machara smiled widely at his approach.

“Where shall we go?” he asked, ignoring the hoots from his men as he reached for the woman’s hand and led her from the hall.

“Wherever ye wish.”

“You know the castle better than I.”

Machara licked her lips and Adelstan could not help but compare them to Rhiannon’s fuller, plumper lips. The lips of an innocent. His stomach clenched, wondering if he had been her first kiss. A strange mixture of emotion rushed through him at the thought. First kiss. First touch. First lover.

He was walking a dangerous line.

The inner bailey was still alive with activity, mostly officers and servants mingling.

“We will not be bothered here,” Machara said, opening a door. The smell of bread rose up to meet him.

Adelstan pushed the door closed and pulled Machara into his arms. They kissed feverishly and he could not help comparing the experienced, rough, almost desperate kiss to the innocent one he shared with Rhiannon hours before.

“I have wanted ye from the moment I first saw ye.”

“As did I,” he whispered against her lips, cupping a full breast, tugging at an erect nipple. Though he had not had sex for a week, his cock was only semihard.

He took one of her hands in his, and brought it down to his erection.

Her eyes widened and she licked her lips. A moment later she fell to her knees, and with trembling hands pulled the cord of his braies.

His hands rested on her shoulders as she took him into her hot mouth. Oh yes, he needed this, a woman’s soft mouth on his cock, sucking him, her tongue stroking the length of him from base to head.

As she continued to suck his length, he let his head fall back on his shoulders and closed his eyes, envisioning another woman, this one with violet eyes and silky brown hair. He remembered Rhiannon’s sweet body outlined in her soaked kirtle.

His cock lengthened more.

Machara cupped his balls and he put her at arm’s length, his cock slipping from her mouth. She looked up at him, a knowing smile on her wet lips.

“Ye are so large,” she whispered before his cockhead disappeared in her mouth again.

He leaned back, resting his hips against a large, wooden table. Machara’s tongue swirled around the crown, while her fingers gripped the base, balls and all.