The Highlander Takes a Bride (10 page)

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Authors: Lynsay Sands

Tags: #General, #Historical, #Fiction, #Romance, #Highlander, #bride, #Marriage, #Proper Lady, #Warrior, #Wanton, #Guest, #Target, #Enemy, #Safeguard, #Brothers, #Intrigued, #17th Century, #Adult, #Brawny, #Scotland, #Passion, #Match

BOOK: The Highlander Takes a Bride
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Nodding, Greer turned and headed for the door, ordering, “Do no’ move. I’ll return directly.”

Saidh stared after him with bewilderment as he slid from the room, then shook her head and dropped back on the bed with a little sigh. The man had obviously lost his mind. That was the only explanation that made sense to her. First he was touching and caressing her, then he was upset she wasn’t wearing braies, then he started spouting things that made absolutely no sense and marched out ordering her not to move.

What the hell did he mean that she hadn’t won? She’d finished the tale before he’d made her scream in pleasure. In fact, she was beginning to think he would never cause that now. And what was that nonsense about their story just beginning? What story was that?

More irksome to her, though, was his claim that she had no survival instinct to speak of. Saidh knew he meant because she’d as good as offered herself to him, but he was wrong. She was not an idiot. She knew ladies were supposed to save themselves for their husbands and that by giving herself to him she would be making herself unmarriageable. But it seemed to her that she wasn’t likely to marry anyway. Her betrothed had died, and no laird was likely to want a woman as rough as her to wife. She’d spent too many years with her brothers, learned too many curse words and how to fight. She wore those precious braies under her skirts, rode astride like a man, and could fight like one too. She’d been given a taste of freedom growing up with her brothers as playmates, and doubted she could give up that freedom just to be some man’s chattel.

So why not find her pleasure with Greer while she was young enough to enjoy it? Her brothers wouldn’t think less of her for it, she was sure, and before she’d left for Sinclair for Joan’s birthing, Aulay had told her that she would always have a home with him at Buchanan.

Sighing, she turned her head to peer at the door, wondering where the devil Greer had got to . . . and what he’d gone for in the first place? Perhaps he was fetching them food, she thought hopefully when her stomach made a deep growling sound. She’d been too busy fretting over Fenella to eat at sup and was now hungry. She was also a tad chilly, she noted, and sat up to glance toward the fire. A frown claimed her lips when she saw that the fire was half the size it had been when they’d entered her room earlier. It needed feeding too.

Slipping off the bed, she tugged the linen off to wrap around herself and walked to the fire to feed it some logs. She was kneeling on the fur in front of the fireplace, just using the iron to push the logs about and urge the fire to a happier glow when her door opened. Saidh glanced around to see Greer closing the door. He didn’t have food, she noted unhappily.

Spying her by the fire and noting her expression, he asked, “What’s the matter?” as he crossed the room toward her.

“I was hoping ye’d gone to fetch food,” she admitted, setting the iron back as she straightened.

“I will later,” he assured her coming to a halt. Smiling faintly, he reached up to remove the pin that held his plaid in place. “Ye look lovely even wrapped in a sheet.”

“Do I?” Saidh asked vaguely, her attention caught by what he was doing as he set the pin on the table by the chairs and then gave his plaid a tug that sent it rushing toward the floor. Saidh stared wide-eyed at his now revealed calves and knees below the hem of his shirt, which ended at his thighs, and breathed, “Oh my, yer lovely too.”

Greer chuckled at her words and then lifted his shirt, to tug it off over his head and Saidh simply stared at the appendage between his legs. It wasn’t nearly as majestic as it had felt the few times it had pressed against her. It had felt as large and uncomfortable as a log when she’d been sitting on it earlier, but now it was kind of just hanging there all wrinkly and— Saidh’s thoughts stopped abruptly as it began to grow, stretching and lifting toward her like a flower seeking the sun. Curious, she reached out without thinking to touch it, but Greer caught her hand before she could make contact.

Glancing up, she saw that he was staring at her with a sort of bemusement.

“Ye ha’e no a bone o’ shyness in ye, do ye, Saidh?” he asked huskily.

“ ’Tis hard to be shy with seven brothers barging into yer room at all hours,” she said wryly. She tilted her head. “I suppose a proper lady would be shy?”

“Aye,” Greer agreed. Reaching out he tugged her sheet loose and sent it tumbling to the floor on top of his plaid as he added, “But I like ye this way.”

“Oh,” Saidh sighed as he drew her into his arms. Her breasts touched his chest first, his coarse hairs there tickling them briefly before his warm skin pressed against them. Saidh slid her arms around his neck and raised her head expecting a kiss, and he gave her what she wanted and more. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue thrusting as he slid his hands down her back, cupped her behind and scooped her up against him until he could kiss her without bending his head.

Greer kissed her again and again, moving his head first one way and then the other until she moaned and wrapped her legs around his waist. He broke the kiss then and lifted her higher to claim one nipple and Saidh’s eyes fluttered open with surprise, and then widened as she saw that the room was moving around them. It took her a moment to understand that it wasn’t the room moving. He was carrying her to the bed again, she realized and then he knelt to set her on the end of the bed without having to disengage her legs.

Saidh did that for him, allowing them to drop away on either side of him as he ducked his head to lave her breasts. Saidh moaned with pleasure and dug her hands into his hair, urging him on. She then groaned with disappointment when he stopped that, only to gasp in surprise when he began to trail kisses down her belly. The muscles of her stomach jumped excitedly and Saidh began to tug at his hair, unsure what he was doing and even less sure she liked it. But Greer caught her wrists and urged her to lie back on the bed, continuing to hold them to keep her from interfering as his mouth moved along one hip.

The man was strong, she thought vaguely as she struggled in vain to free her hands. And then suddenly he released her. Before she could reach for him though, his head dipped between her legs and Saidh froze in shock as his tongue rasped across that most sensitive skin.

“Greer?” she gasped uncertainly, grabbing at the sheet under her.

He didn’t respond, at least not verbally, and Saidh bit her lip and struggled not to scream out with shocked pleasure as he urged her legs further apart and suckled at the nub at her core as if it were a nipple. Something pressed into her then, spreading and filling her before withdrawing to thrust back in again as he continued to lick and suckle her and Saidh groaned and gasped and panted by turn.

She wanted to move her hips, to thrust into his caresses, to fight toward the release she knew waited just out of sight, but he had her pinned and helpless to do anything except wait for him to give her that release. And then it rocked over her, like a storm rushing down from the hills and Saidh opened her mouth to scream. Before she could, his free hand was covering her mouth and muffling the sound.

Reminded that they weren’t out in a clearing where no one would hear her, Saidh bit off the sound and closed her eyes as she sank into a boneless puddle on the bed. Her body was quivering, her heart still racing, her breath coming in heaving gasps, but her mind was floating in some far off land where pleasure reigned.

Saidh was vaguely aware of Greer moving, and a slight breeze replacing the heat of a moment ago between her legs and then something nudged at her opening before thrusting into her. This time it was something much larger than the finger she thought he must have been using earlier, something that sent pain screaming through her body, tearing away the gossamer wings of the pleasure she’d been enjoying. Saidh instinctively sat up with a roar and struck out defensively before he caught her hands to prevent further blows and she opened her eyes.

She stared at him, her chest heaving, her body aching where before it had known only pleasure, and Greer pulled her head against his chest and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, sweetling. I thought it best to get it done in one push than to draw out the pain.”

“What did ye stab me with?” she asked with confusion, not sure what had happened.

“Just me,” he said solemnly and then eased his chest back a bit so that she could look down and see that they were joined, his body disappearing into hers.

“Oh,” she said weakly. “I could ha’e sworn ye’d run me through with a sword.”

Greer frowned. “I ha’e never taken a woman’s innocence before. I had no’ realized ’twould be that painful. Mayhap we should jest—”

“Nay,” Saidh gasped, wrapping her legs around his hips to keep him in place when he started to withdraw, merely adding to her pain. “Just . . .” She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head. “Just stay put fer a minute.”

“Saidh?”

She glanced sharply around at that call from what sounded like Lady MacDonnell out in the hall. The door rattled, but fortunately didn’t open. Greer had dropped the bar, she saw. His forethought was impressive.

“Saidh, dear? Are ye all right?”

She squeezed her eyes briefly closed.

“Ye’d best answer or she’ll ha’e the whole castle up here,” Greer whispered by her ear.

Saidh nodded and forced her eyes open and called out, “Aye.”

“Are ye sure? I thought I heard ye scream, lass. Should I—”

“I’m fine,” Saidh said, forcing more conviction into her voice. “Truly, m’lady. I am sorry I disturbed ye. ’Twas jest . . . a nightmare,” she finished wearily and leaned her forehead against Greer thinking that her words were not far from the truth. What had started out as a pleasant dream had certainly turned into a nightmare when Greer had thrust into her. Dear God, she’d heard that the first time could be painful, but this was—

“Would ye like to talk?” Lady MacDonnell asked now. “Mayhap ’twould help if ye told me about yer nightmare.”

“Nay,” Saidh said at once, turning to peer at the door with horror, almost afraid it would open any moment despite the bar across it.

Something brushed across one nipple and Saidh glanced down with surprise to see Greer’s hand retreating. She followed it to his mouth where he licked the pad of his thumb, and then he lowered it again to brush it across the tip of the same nipple again. The warm wet, was quickly followed by cool as he brushed his thumb lazily back and forth, making the nub harden and rise and the aureole around it darken as it shrank and wrinkled, tightening in response.

Saidh swallowed as she watched, and then gasped as he did the same to the other breast, wetting his thumb and rubbing it lazily over her eager flesh. This time when she raised her face to peer at him, Greer lowered his head to kiss her, his tongue whipping out to continue to stir back to life the desire she’d thought had been killed by the joining.

“Would ye like a warm drink, mayhap? I could ha’e one o’ the servants bring ye some mulled cider or spiced rum. Mayhap that would help.”

“Nay,” Saidh groaned when Greer broke their kiss.

“Did ye say nay or aye, dear? ’Tis hard to hear ye through the door.”

Saidh gave her head a shake, trying to concentrate, and then sighed and called, “I’m so sorry I disturbed ye m’lady, and I appreciate yer kindness, but nay, I would jest rather get back to sleep.”

“All right then, dear,” Lady MacDonnell said and Saidh glanced sharply down again as Greer gave up on her breasts and reached between them to begin to caress the nub just above where they were joined.

Saidh bit back a gasp and clutched at his arms as he teased her passion quickly back to full life.

“But if ye change yer mind and need anything, I’m just up the hall, dear. And don’t ye worry about waking me,” Lady MacDonnell said through the door. “Ye just come see me if ye like. All right?”

“Oh, aye,” Saidh gasped, raising her legs to wrap them around Greer’s hips and dig her heels into his butt to give her leverage as she began to rock into his caresses.

“Very well then, good sleep, Saidh, dear. I’ll see ye in the morn.”

“Aye,” Saidh almost cried the word as Greer eased himself out of her and then slid back in. There was surprisingly little pain this time, and much more pleasure as he continued to caress her and Saidh began to clench around his body, legs, arms and entire body tightening in an effort to keep him where it wanted him.

When Greer pressed her face to his chest, she turned her mouth to his skin, knowing he was offering her a way to stifle the sounds building up in her throat. Little whimpering gasps issued from her throat and were muffled by his skin as he continue to increase the pressure mounting in her, and then he suddenly withdrew his caressing hand, to clasp her hips and pull her hard into his last thrust. But Saidh was already tipping over the edge of the cliff into her own release, and she cried out against his chest even as he released a guttural sound that she suspected was a roar, murdered in its infancy.

 

Chapter 8

S
aidh rolled onto her back and stretched lazily, but stopped the moment her body protested in several places. One of those places was not one where she generally experienced discomfort and it made her eyes shoot open as memory rushed through her of the night and what she’d done.

What
they’d
done, she corrected herself, and turned her head on the pillow to seek out Greer, only to find the space empty beside her.

Sitting up abruptly, Saidh glanced around the room, but every bit of evidence that the man had ever been there was now gone. His clothes no longer lay on the fur by the fireplace. Neither did the linen they’d left there last night. It was back on the bed, and covering her, she realized. But he’d also removed any evidence of the food and drink he’d gone down to fetch from the kitchens after their first time together. They’d eaten the food on the fur in front of the fireplace, or at least they’d started to, but had got somewhat sidetracked and had ended up with him tossing up her skirts on the fur . . . well, if she’d been wearing a skirt he’d have tossed it up, but she hadn’t.

After that, they’d returned to the bed and Saidh had cuddled up against him and drifted off to sleep, only to wake some time later to his caressing her into a fever and then thrusting into her again.

Saidh dropped back on the bed with a little satisfied sigh. While the first time had been terrible—at least the breaching had—it had much improved after that. She’d still felt a twinge of pain a time or two as they’d mated, but Greer had driven her to such heights of passion before getting to that point that it had been easily ignored.

Just the memory of the things he’d done to her made a tingle burst to life at the apex of her thighs and Saidh closed her eyes on the bed coverings overhead, allowing herself to drown in the memories. After a moment, she slipped her fingers under the sheet and furs to touch herself tentatively, curious to know what he experienced when he did it.

It was actually the first time she’d ever touched herself there and Saidh was quite surprised at how soft and slippery she was. It didn’t feel the same when she touched herself, though. She missed Greer’s presence, the feel of his warm body against her, the intoxicating scent of him, the taste of him as he covered her mouth with his own.

Suddenly wondering where he was and what he was doing, Saidh withdrew her hand, and pushed the linens and furs aside to leap out of bed. She rushed to her trunk then, the only one she’d brought, and began to pull out and examine the few gowns she’d brought away with her from Sinclair, trying to decide what to wear. For the first time in her life what she wore mattered to her. She wanted to look pretty for Greer. Of course, that being the case, it would be a time when she’d left most of her gowns elsewhere.

She was muttering to herself with exasperation as she discarded gown after gown when a knock sounded at the door. Stilling, she glanced toward it with surprise, and then—thinking it might be Greer—she straightened and rushed to it, a smile breaking on her face. Fortunately, she retained enough good sense not to open the door wide, but to crack it open and peer around it, keeping her nudity hidden behind the wooden panel.

Much to her disappointment it was not Greer, but a servant at the door. Saidh stared at the woman blankly. “Aye?”

“M’laird ordered a bath fer yer pleasure,” the maid said, offering a smile and curtsy.

“Oh,” Saidh murmured, peering past the woman to the small army of servants behind her. Two bore a huge tub, and half a dozen others carried pails full of water. Her smile softened at Greer’s thoughtfulness, and then she pushed the door closed, shouting, “Jest one minute.”

Rushing back to the bed, she dragged the top sheet off to wrap around her body. Saidh started to turn away then, but her eye caught on a large stain of blood on the bottom of the bed. It was where he’d first taken her and breached her maidenhead, she realized with a grimace, and quickly threw the furs over it before yelling, “Come in.”

The door opened at once, and Saidh whirled, and then dropped to sit on top of the furs covering the stain as the servants began to bustle in with their burdens. They were quick about their business, and filed out of the room within moments, leaving a steaming bath in their wake. All of them left but the woman who had greeted Saidh on opening the door. She merely pushed the door closed behind the others and then turned to smile at Saidh.

“Lady MacDonnell said ye must ha’e left yer maid at Sinclair since ye arrived without one. She suggested I might take her place while ye’re here,” she announced and then added quickly, “If ’tis all right with ye?”

“Oh.” Saidh hesitated. She’d happily made do without a maid this past year but she could hardly admit that. She was quite sure Lady MacDonnell would be horrified at her lack. However, she wasn’t pleased with the idea of having one again. As much as she’d loved Erin, the maid had driven Saidh mad with her constant attempts to make her more a proper lady. She’d fuss forever over her hair, fiddling and fixing it into silly little ringlets and whatnot. As for the bath, the woman had been nothing but a bother there, wanting to fill it with all sorts of herbs, spices and flowers to make her “smell sweet” and then trying to wash her arms and legs for her as if she couldn’t manage the task on her own.

Saidh did not mind help rinsing the soap out of her hair, but other than that, wanted no assistance when it came to bathing. She didn’t feel like she could refuse the offer of a borrowed maid, though. Sighing, she stood and said, “I’d appreciate help rinsing the soap out o’ me hair after I’ve washed it, but other than that need little in the way of assistance.”

“As ye wish, m’lady,” the woman said easily.

Relaxing a little, Saidh nodded and walked to the steaming bath.

“What is yer name?” she asked as she dropped the sheet and stepped into the tub.

“Joyce, m’lady,” the woman said as she retrieved soap and a scrap of linen to offer to her.

“Thank ye,” Saidh murmured taking the items.

“Yer welcome.” Joyce started to turn away, but paused when she noted Saidh running the soap over the linen. She hesitated briefly, but then said gently, “It works out best if ye wash yer hair first. Then the water is fresh fer rinsing out the soap. As well it will dry a bit while ye wash the rest o’ ye.”

“Oh.” Saidh peered at the soapy linen with a frown. Erin had always tried to get her to wash her hair first, but had never offered an explanation as to why so she’d waved away the suggestion. But what Joyce said made sense. She supposed ’twas easier to rinse yer hair in water that was not already soapy, and allowing it those extra moments to dry before getting out would be helpful too.

Smiling tentatively, Joyce asked, “Shall I take the linen and set it aside while ye wash yer hair?”

“Aye, please.” Saidh handed it over and Joyce set it on a small stool that had been brought up and placed by the fireplace.

“Shall I jest straighten the room and make the bed while ye bathe?” Joyce asked as she returned and bent to pick up the sheet Saidh had discarded on the floor beside the tub.

“Nay!” Saidh said with alarm, then forced a smile and shook her head. “Jest put the sheet on the foot o’ the bed fer now, Joyce. I prefer me bed unmade today.”

Joyce’s eyebrows rose, but she merely nodded and carried the sheet over to lay across the foot of the bed.

Saidh set to work washing her hair then, her wary gaze on the maid the whole time. The last thing she needed was to explain the bloodstain on the foot of the bed, but she started trying to come up with some explanation for it just in case.

“What would ye like me to do now?” Joyce asked, turning uncertainly toward her.

Saidh hesitated and then glanced toward the gowns strewn around the small chest she’d brought with her.

“I was trying to decide what to wear when ye arrived,” she explained, nodding toward the mess she’d left. Clearing her throat, she added, “Mayhap ye can see what’s clean and what ye think would look nice on me?”

“O’ course.” Joyce beamed at her, then rushed over to begin gathering up the gowns and Saidh returned to massaging the soap into her hair. After a moment, she then shifted her position in the tub, sticking her legs in the air to hang over the end so that she could lean her head back in the water and swish it around to try to remove the soap she’d just put in.

“I kept a couple of pails of water to help rinse yer hair.”

Saidh gave a start at that announcement as she lifted her head out of the water and was able to hear again.

Joyce stood beside the tub once more. Smiling at her gently, she offered,“I could pour them over yer hair now to finish rinsing it.”

“Oh . . . okay,” Saidh said with a weak smile and then watched as Joyce proceeded to take an empty pail and set it between the two full ones that remained. She first poured in water from the steaming pail, and then water from a second not steaming pail. After testing the temperature, the maid nodded with satisfaction and straightened.

“Just lean yer head back a bit,” Joyce instructed. “And here, hold this over yer eyes so none of the soapy water gets in them by accident.”

Saidh accepted the fresh bit of linen and pressed it tightly to her eyes. She leaned her head back, a small sigh of pleasure slipping from her lips as warm water flowed over her hair and ran down her back.

“One more pail ought to do it,” Joyce announced, and Saidh mumbled acquiescence and remained where she was. A moment later, another rush of water coasted over her head.

“There,” Joyce said brightly and Saidh stiffened as she felt the woman gather her dripping hair, but relaxed when she said, “I’ll jest wring out the worst of the water, and wrap a linen around it to help it dry and keep it from falling into the soapy water while ye finish yer bath.”

Joyce did what she said as she spoke and Saidh took the linen away and sat up slowly as Joyce finished wrapping the larger linen around her head.

“Thank ye,” Saidh murmured.

“ ’Tis me pleasure,” Joyce assured her and took the damp scrap of linen she’d held over her eyes from her hand, replacing it with the soapy one. “I’ll jest go sort through yer dresses now. Give me a holler if ye need any assistance.”

“Thank ye,” Saidh repeated, feeling rather bemused. She was beginning to warm to Joyce as a maid. She didn’t irritate her like Erin did. Perhaps it was because she was younger than Erin. She didn’t seem much older than Saidh was herself. Perhaps being younger, Joyce didn’t feel the need to scold and harass her as Erin did.

“How long ha’e ye been a lady’s maid?” Saidh asked curiously, beginning to wash her arms and shoulders.

Joyce chuckled softly. “I’m no’ really. I work in the kitchens, but I’ve been asked to fill in on several occasions when there were large parties staying here and one o’ the ladies was without her maid fer one reason or another.”

“Ye seem to ha’e learned well fer someone who has only filled in on occasion,” Saidh commented, rinsing her arms and shoulders.

“Aye, well, I seem to learn something new from each lady,” Joyce said with a smile. “Lady MacKendrick was the one who taught me that the hair should be washed first, and how best to rinse it. She said if ye did no’ get all the soap out, it made yer hair flat and dull. Lady MacKendrick is well admired for her fine hair.”

“Tell me what else ye’ve learned,” Saidh suggested as she lifted one leg out of the tub and began to soap it.

“Lady Buchanan is awake and taking the bath ye ordered fer her, m’laird.”

Greer turned from watching two of his men at that announcement and nodded at Alpin as the boy climbed up to sit on the fence next to where he leaned. He smiled faintly at the lad, but merely grunted, “Good. Now we jest need wait fer Bowie to return from his swim.”

“He’s back,” Alpin announced, nodding toward the stables.

Greer straightened away from the fence and turned to see the man in question leaving the stables headed their way. “Good. Then he can take over training while we go fer a swim ourselves.”

“We?” Alpin asked with alarm.

Greer ignored him and waited for Bowie to reach them so that he could give his instructions.

“Why did ye say
we
?” Alpin asked warily when Greer had finished and Bowie moved away with a nod.

Greer turned to the lad. Grabbing him by the arm, he urged him off his perch and asked dryly, “Are ye no’ the one who used to carp at me that I should bathe more often?”

“Aye, but ye were given to go for weeks without one while we were at battle if I did no’ carp,” Alpin muttered as Greer dragged him away from the fence. “And I meant in warm water in a tub inside, no’ in a freezing loch with all manner o’ fish and critters in it.”

“Bathing indoors is fer ladies and bairns . . . and mayhap fer men in the winter,” Greer allowed reluctantly, but then rallied and added, “But when the weather is fine as ’tis now, a warrior prefers the loch.”

“ ’Tis no’ fine today,” Alpin argued as Greer pulled him toward the stables. “There is a chill in the air.”

“Just a hint o’ fall hailing us ere summer starts her death cries,” Greer said with a shrug.

“ ’Twill be me death cry yer hearing if ye make me swim in the loch,” Alpin muttered with disgust as the stable master appeared at the mouth of the stables with Greer’s horse in tow. “I am already down with fever and should be abed.”

“Aye, I ken ye are,” Greer said sympathetically as he swung Alpin up onto the saddle. He then mounted behind him and took the reins with a “thank ye” for the man before urging the horse toward the drawbridge. “And that is why I decided
we
shall go swimming rather than meself alone.”

“Ye’re trying to kill me,” Alpin moaned, slumping in the saddle before him.

Greer rolled his eyes at the dramatics and shook his head. “Nay. I’m trying to help ye. Ye’re too hot, lad. ’Twill boil yer brains do we no’ get the fever down and I’m hoping a cold swim’ll do the trick. Otherwise, ’twill mean leeches and poultices fer ye.”

“No’ leeches,” Alpin gasped with horror. “I hate leeches.”

“I ken ye do,” Greer acknowledged sympathetically. Mouth firming, he then added, “But I’ve grown rather fond o’ yer sorry little arse nagging at me, so if the swim does no’ work, we’ll do whatever we ha’e to, to see ye well. Even leeches.”

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