Amanda Scott (49 page)

“You cannot know how I feel,” Nell said, hugging herself as tears spilled down her cheeks. Then, eyes widening, she reached
for Molly’s hand and clutched it tightly, drawing her close and hugging her. “I sound like a shrew, I know, but you are not
yet a mother, nor have you ever lost a child. Faith, even I do not know how I feel!” Her hands shook, and her chin quivered.
“H-how can this be? Are you sure?”

Molly nodded, and Fin said gently, “If Bessie were dead, Molly would be her heir, and her key would unlock the chest.”

Nell inhaled deeply, struggling visibly to control her emotions. “Too much has happened,” she said. “I cannot think, but I
can well believe that Angus lied. He does so frequently, although he does not tolerate liars, himself.”

“Can you recall nothing that he might have said over the years to reveal what really happened to her?” Molly asked.

“No,” Nell said. “Nothing. We must find her, though.”

“Excuse me, my lady,” Doreen said from the doorway, “but Cook desired me to tell you that your dinner is ready to serve.”

“Doreen! I thought you were locked… that is…” Molly floundered, looking to Fin for help.

“She thought you were still attending to things in her bedchamber,” he said with a smile.

Doreen shook her head. “Nay, master, I finished there long ago, and I ha’ been helping in the kitchen just as I do at home.
Be Lady Percy ill, sir?”

“No, no,” Molly said, surprised that Doreen knew Nell’s name. “She is just a little tired, I expect.”

“I’m famished,” Fin said heartily. “We will come at once. What of my lads?”

“They are to eat in the lower hall, sir, as they did yesterday.”

“Ah, of course,” he said. “Come along, ladies. There is naught to be gained by keeping good food waiting.”

Feeling dazed, Molly let him take her hand, and Nell followed silently behind him. Doreen helped serve the meal and seemed
to remember nothing other than that they had arrived the day before after a tedious sea journey and that the only people they
found in the castle had been looking after things until its new owner arrived. If she knew about the mystery regarding its
contents, she said nothing to indicate as much.

Nell was quiet, but she revived a little as the meal progressed, touching one item after another as the magnificent serving
dishes appeared, saying that she had believed she would never see them again and perhaps she would soon find Bessie.

Molly glanced at Fin more than once, wondering what he was thinking.

If Maggie’s words meant that the three of them would eventually forget everything that had happened, just as Fin’s men had
already forgotten, what else might they forget?

His gaze met hers, and the warmth she saw in his eyes seemed to flow into her. When he tore a piece of roast chicken from
its bone with his teeth and chewed it, still watching her, an unexpected bolt of yearning shot through her.

“Madam,” he said a moment later, turning to Nell, “I warrant you would like some time alone with your thoughts and to become
reacquainted with Dunsithe, so if you have no objection, Molly and I will bid you good night now. We have much to talk about,
and I confess, I have sorely missed my wife.”

“I believe you, sir,” Nell said with a wan smile, idly shredding a roll. “I will sit here for a time, I think. I am finding
it hard to come to terms with all that has happened in these past few days.”

“You must do as you like,” he said gently. “Doreen can help you choose a bedchamber and help you prepare for bed. Molly will
not need her tonight.”

Nell managed a smile for Molly. “I hope you want me to stay, love. Having waited so long to find you again, I shall be reluctant
to curtail our reunion.”

“I want to know you better, too, madam,” Molly said, moving to hug her again. “I just wish you could remember something to
help us learn where Bessie is. I want to find her.”

Fresh tears filled Nell’s eyes. “I can think of nothing,” she said, “but I will soon have to face Angus, and I dread it, for
I know not what I will say to him. He frightens me witless when he is angry, and since I was supposed to carry messages back
to him and to England’s Henry from Donald, Angus will be angry that I have failed. Still, I’m angry, too, and perhaps I can
make him tell me what really happened to our Bessie.”

“Do not endanger yourself,” Molly said. “I do not want to lose you again.”

“You won’t, my love, but go now and be with your husband. I shall be quite all right here on my own.”

Needing no further urging, they bade her good night.

Conscious of Fin beside her, Molly suddenly felt much as she had on her wedding night. Her skin prickled, and her body felt
warm and moist. Remembering the huge bathtub in his bedchamber at Eilean Donan, she smiled.

He put his arm around her and drew her close. “Art sleepy, lassie?”

“Nay, sir. I feel warm and…and…”

“… and lusty for your husband, I hope,” he said with a chuckle. “I spoke the truth, sweetheart. We’ve business to sort out,
and although I warrant we may need assistance with the part that involves Dunsithe, the rest of it is ours alone to determine.
What say you to the notion of naming Patrick constable here?”

“We cannot live at Dunsithe, can we.” She made it a statement, not a question, as she moved ahead of him to the spiral stairway
leading to the upper floors.

“I must stay with my people, Molly. We can visit here as often as you like, but when we are away, we should have someone in
residence whom we can trust to look after the place properly, to tend its lands and its people.”

“I like Sir Patrick.”

“I, too, and I will miss him, but I know no one in the Borders whom I would trust as I trust him, and Malcolm and Mauri can
look after Eilean Donan whenever we come to Dunsithe to visit.”

“Will Patrick agree?”

“You know that he will agree to anything I ask of him. Moreover, he will make friends here far more quickly than I would.”
They reached the landing at the next floor, and he opened the door to the first chamber they came to. “This will do,” he said,
peering into the elegantly appointed room. Someone had lighted the fire, and its golden light played on the wall hangings
and embroidered bed curtains.

“It is my parents’ room,” Molly said. “I remember it now that I see it again. What if my mother expects to sleep here?”

“She will not. It is the master’s chamber, and she is well aware of the proprieties of such. Moreover, I intend to lock the
door. We want no interruptions tonight.” Suiting action to words, he shut the door and shot the bolt.

Then, turning, he drew Molly into his arms and kissed her. “I feared that I might have lost you,” he murmured.

“I, too,” she said. “That I had lost you, I mean.”

“Would that have distressed you, lass?”

“More than I could have guessed when I arrived at Eilean Donan,” she said.

His fingers touched her bodice where the rip had been. “Others may believe that Donald never was here, but I will never forget
what he did, sweetheart, or what he threatened to do. It is not pleasant to be the means of another man’s death, but I confess
that I feel a certain satisfaction in knowing I avenged both my father’s death and your abduction.”

“My second abduction,” she murmured, not caring much what he said, so long as he kept holding her.

He did not reply. His fingers toyed with her lacing, and she could feel the warmth of his hands through the material.

“It is my turn to undress you,” she reminded him.

“So it is.”

There were no difficult fastenings, since his shirt of mail had vanished, but she took her time, enjoying the chance to tease
him for once. Unlacing his shirt, she slipped both hands inside it, stroking his chest lightly, then pulled the shirt free
of his breeks. She would have played with it longer, but he caught hold of it by the hem and yanked it off over his head.
When he would have thrust off his boots and breeks next, she stopped him.

“Be patient, sir,” she said, grinning.

“I am not a patient man,” he growled.

“Then you must practice to be more so.”

“Cheeky lass.”

He caught her shoulders and pulled her close, cupping her chin and raising it to kiss her. His lips were hot against hers,
and for a moment, she forgot her appointed task and enjoyed the sensations his kisses stirred through her body. His hands
moved to her breasts, and she realized that she was in danger of losing herself in the passions he was arousing.

Gently breaking off the kiss, she said, “Do you want to wear your boots and breeks to bed, impatient one, or will you let
me help you take them off?”

His response was half groan, half chuckle, but he said, “If you think you can pull my boots off, go ahead.”

Knowing better than to give him a chance to begin kissing her again just then, she knelt swiftly to obey, and once his boots
were off, she moved to unlace his breeks, taking her time, using her fingers, lips, and hands to good purpose until she heard
him gasp with pleasure.

Looking up into his eyes, she smiled and said, “I believe I am learning how to serve you well, am I not?”

“You are,” he said, his voice catching on the words as if it were hard for him to breathe properly.

When he was naked, she began exploring his body with tiny, light kisses, moving slowly from his knees upward.

Expecting certain, inevitable distractions, Fin had intended to let her lead the way, to enjoy himself and the feelings she
stirred in him. He kept reminding himself of that intention while her lips and hands busied themselves, but he had not counted
on his body’s profound reaction to her slightest touch.

He wanted to see her naked, to watch the firelight play on her smooth skin. He wanted to touch her everywhere, and bend her
to his will.

She was playing with him, teasing him, taunting his lust for her. Her lips were hot against his skin, her fingers stirred
lust wherever they touched him. Those busy lips and fingers reached only his thighs, therefore, before he suddenly leaned
over, scooped her up, and carried her to the high, curtained bed. His breathing was more ragged than ever, and his hands were
urgent as they dealt with her clothing.

Molly stifled a bubble of laughter when Fin snatched her up and carried her to the bed, but soon, she was as naked as he,
and he moved over her to claim her again as his wife. Her body leaped to his in response, and she was astonished by how easy
it was to pace her actions with his and to stir him to even greater passion. Every move was instinctive, and every new sensation
stirred pulsing fire through her, increasing her ardor until the final surge threatened to overwhelm them both.

Afterward, as she lay with her head on his shoulder, he stroked her gently, idly, for some moments before he murmured, “I
noticed something else that is different, sweetheart.”

“What?”

“The mark of the key has nearly disappeared from your breast.”

She looked down and saw that he was right. Maggie had promised that the mark would fade, but it looked almost as if her breast
had never been burned.

“All that has happened here seems strange,” she said, “but things are certainly better now than before. It will be wonderful
if we can find Bessie.”

“We’ll find her,” he murmured. “I love you, Molly.”

A rapping at the door startled them, and at the same time, they heard Nell’s voice. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” she called,
“but I thought you should know that I’ve found a box of Gordon’s documents concerning Dunsithe.”

“Excellent,” Fin shouted back. “I’ll study them carefully—tomorrow!”

“I’ve thought of something else, though,” she said, her voice low-pitched and tense. “I think I may know where we can find
Bessie.”

Molly sat up, ready to let her in, but Fin held her and said, “Are you sure?”

“No, and I could be wrong. Indeed, I cannot even recall the name of the woman who may help us. I’m not sure Jamie will remember
her either, but I met her at Stirling. She’s a horrid woman, so I do not know whether to hope or to pray.”

“Then that, too, can wait until morning,” Fin said. “Good night, madam.”