Highland Portrait (34 page)

She offered Stella the small pot of lotion, but Stella shook her head, she would not take from her mother’s precious stores of what she could get so easily and cheaply.  She promised herself that she would make sure that Merry had the finest hand lotion in the future, along with some other little female trivialities that her father would never have thought about.  Including toilet paper.

Robbie, killed a small deer and after he and Albert had cleaned and butchered it Stella cooked a large roast of venison while Merry and the two men preserved the rest.  Merry had plenty of vegetables, and Stella made mashed potatoes and gravy, a new experience for both Robbie and Merry.  Robbie especially like them and was adamant that Stella teach the castle cooks how to make them.

As the evening approached Merry offered to make a pallet for Robbie and Stella by the fireplace, but Robbie insisted that they would be fine in the barn. Stella, having spent one night in a barn, thought she could deal with that as long as she had Robbie to keep her warm and a blanket to keep the hay from her skin.

The sun had long since slipped behind the hillside and in its place a full moon crystallized the night and added sparkle to the cool foggy air that spilled from the surrounding cliffs and rose from the wide stream nearby.  Robbie and Stella, carrying plaids and a warm blanket, that Stella had a suspicion may have been a WalMart purchase, walked in companionable silence to the barn.  They had each had a long day filled with people that they loved, working as a team to provide safety and comfort for Merry.  Stella was tired, but looking forward to being alone again with Robbie.

Robbie fed and watered all the horses and goats while Stella made a comfortable bed for them in the small loft of the barn.  She insisted that Robbie put Ferghus up in the loft to rout out any rats and after he sniffed for a time, finding nothing, and then sprawled out on the blankets she felt it would be okay to sleep there.

Fog, quiet as a Scottish wildcat, moved in wispy tendrils across the croft yard, the full moon reflecting its light and setting the entire hillside to glow.  Robbie stood at the barn door stretching his shoulders, listening for the stream.  He had pulled Ferghus down from the loft and rather than go out in the night to chase whatever it was that caught his fancy, the dog had elected to stay at Stella’s side, happy with her company.

She climbed down from the loft and stood at the door with Robbie.  He looked into her golden eyes and wanted to fill the silence with words.  He tried to conjure up words out of the darkness as if they waited only for his voice, words that were long and short, tender and soft.  Words that would dance across the barn and wrap Stella in love, tickling her skin.  He wanted to say words that explained exactly how much he loved her, how important she was to him.  Words that would paint a picture of their future, their children, their coupling.  But there were none.  Only the wordless wonder of being close to her, standing at this barn door holding her close to him and the world suddenly did not need words.  Only their hearts.

He put his arms around her and she closed her eyes as their lips met, softly at first and then with a hunger born of need that had grown steadily that day.  Their tongues were on fire then, probing, searching and finding satisfaction and excitement in each other's taste and response.  She sighed quietly, shivering in the darkness and he responded with deeper, more guttural sounds and senses, shivering himself and drew her even closer.  Their bodies met full length, warmth against warmth, despite their clothing, and rested against each other, undulating slowly in primal ways. They were alone now and passionately in need.

Robbie nuzzled her hair, drinking in the arresting aroma of her scent, the silken feel of her hair, the tantalizing sensation of her breasts pressed against his chest.

“The stream, Stella, come.”  Robbie took her hand and together they walked through the thick forest along a well worn path that Stella thought her mother must have traveled many times.  It gave her a sense of belonging to be where her mother had walked, where she now walked and she felt that connection keenly and with gladness.  Robbie led her not far from the croft to a good sized stream, kissed with moonlight and fog, the stars reflecting on the pooled surface.  Stella caught her breath at the beauty of the place where nature put on a spectacular show using only moonlight and water.               

On the edge of the pool was a large flat rock thrusting out several feet over the water, a platform for sitting or kneeling over the water to fill buckets.  Robbie stood on it now, removing his clothes and placing a piece of soap he had borrowed from Merry on the edge of it.  He tossed his clothes in the water close to shore to rinse them of the dirt and mud and sweat of his day and Stella watched him now, splendidly naked, as he spread them on branches.  He walked back onto the rock and jumped lightly into the pool that came up just past his waist.

She stood on the wide flat rock and watched him wash himself of the labors of the day smiling at her as he touched himself, his hands rubbing the soap across a chest that was thick and wide, arms and shoulders potent with strength.  Immersing himself completely in the water he sprang up cutting the surface like Poseidon, a demi-god so dazzling in his magnificence that it took Stella’s breath away. He looked at her and motioned with his eyes for her to come in.

“Join me, my Faerie Queen,” he winked at her and sent a playful spray of water her way.  She jumped back and giggled.  She knew that she was not his equal in beauty or majesty, but cared little for that.  Her own small charms were enough for him and she would let him fill himself of them this evening.  She took off her boots and set them on the dry bank, followed by her apron and dress.  She pulled the ribbon from her braid and pulled her fingers through her hair, letting the breeze blow her hair into a tangled profusion.  She then turned to walk out on the rock in her chemise.  Robbie watched her every movement memorizing how her hips swayed and her hair, unbound and moving in the wind as if it were not hair at all, but the wings of blackbirds, ready to take flight.

She gently pulled the chemise up, her crossed arms framing her head.  Her round full breasts fell free from the cloth bobbing in an intoxicating dance.  Rich and firm they held his attention with their movements, causing his mouth to water.  He loved looking at her breasts and she loved to have him watch.  He knew the taste of them and the feel of her nipples against his tongue and it stiffened him and erased all thoughts of ought but her.

He stepped to the side of the rock and reached upward, grabbing her by the waist, pulling her into the pooled stream, sliding her slowly down his body.
Grabbing her hair he pressed her open mouth upward and plunged his tongue deep inside tasting her sweetness and feverish need.  Pressing her tongue onto his she echoed his movements letting her tongue dart in and out, demanding response.  She arched up and he lifted her slightly, bending to her breasts, filling his mouth with the heaviness of each one, suckling until she moaned.

A
s much as he wanted to feel himself inside her, feel her heat and wetness surround him again,
his need to taste her overcame him. Swiftly he grabbed her hand and guided her to the side of the rock and lifting her he set her on the edge with her legs dangling in the water. He gently pushed her back and she lay flat waiting, smiling in approval. He placed himself between her legs and grabbing underneath her he pulled her hips to the edge.  She spread her legs, balancing them on the rock giving him access to her.

He touched the firmness of her thighs and was thrilled at the beauty of her legs. He nibbled at her inner thigh, his hands holding onto her legs just above the back of knees, gently as if to beg permission and encourage her opening.  She responded by tossing her head back and lifting her leg until it settled over his shoulder and then moved her other leg as well. 

Her cooing whimpers turned to moans when he spread her legs wide enough to place his head snugly into the welcoming moistness of her opened thighs.
His hands slid easily beneath her buttocks, cupping their fleshy softness until he had a firm control of her movements.  He wanted her to know him, to know the power and fire in his mouth and the tender sweetness of his tongue deep within her and he would not let her escape no matter how she moved.  As his lips approached her warmth, she arched her back slightly to meet him, the invitation complete and he bent to her, slowly and deliberately, to a task that took his breath away.
 

Chapter Eighteen

It delighted Stella to see her parents snuggling atop Albert’s black gelding.  Merry rode in front of Albert, his arms holding her tightly, whispering in her ear, she giggling like a teenager.                Robbie had taken the lead with Stella close behind and Albert and Merry lagging in the rear.  Robbie smiled at Stella every time he turned to look at the couple, completely surprised at Albert’s behavior.  The whole family seemed rather strange but they were each in their own right extraordinary.  Merry was a healer of some skill, Stella an artist of extraordinary talent and Albert was a scholar who had opened up areas of science to him that broadened his thinking and his capacity to absorb information in a rational manner.  This was a family he was happy to be associated with and he would always hold each of them in the highest esteem.

He saw that Stella, too, was surprised to see her father acting like a besotted fool, but she was smiling with approval nonetheless.  Robbie thought that Albert was not the only besotted fool, for he had only to look at Stella and he fell more deeply in love at each glance.  Their tryst at the moonlit stream had been the beginning of a night of passion and though each time he entered her he had been sated, his hunger for her only grew more intense.

“Robbie, watch out!” Stella pointed at his head, but he turned too late and was hit with a low hanging branch. Admittedly it was more embarrassing than painful and he laughed to think how this woman had changed him, distracted him, enthralled him.  And he was glad of it.

“Ye have bewitched me, lass. I canna keep my eyes from ye.” He pulled his courser back to ride evenly with Stella and reached for her hand. “Ye have the most beautiful legs and I am anxious that you wrap them around my shoulders once again.” Robbie winked at Stella’s startled face.  She quickly glanced back at her parents, but they were deep in an intimate whispered conversation.

“Robbie!” Stella tried to look indignant, but only marginally succeeded. “You are a bold one, sir!”  He laughed again and pulled her small hand forward, kissing it.

“I love ye, lass.”  His soft words were spoken with wonder and awe at what had happened to them both in the past week.

“Ah, Robbie, if I only had a word, to tell you how much I love you.  A word, Robbie, a word,” Stella smiled and her heart sang to see him return her love.

For the rest of her life Stella knew that grey-blue eyes would always be the eyes of love, the eyes of passion, the eyes of eternity.  She had allowed grey-blue eyes to alter the course of her life.  It wasn’t a matter of just filling up an empty space in her heart, it went beyond ‘filling’ to completing, like a jigsaw puzzle with all the pieces fitting and in the fitting a new picture unfurled.

Robbie picked up the speed, anxious to get Stella back to the castle so they might retire early.  The rising warmth of the mid-summer morning promised another day of high temperatures and he wanted to make sure the horses and Ferghus  were not overtaxed.

As they rode into the bailey they were greeted by a stable boy and few others, it being oddly quiet for that time of the morning.  Robbie dismounted first and asked the young boy where everyone had gone, but the stable boy seemed as surprised as him to see the bailey almost empty of activity.  Robbie felt a cold wind of foreboding about the absence of people and looked to find one of his warriors to apprise him of what was afoot.  He disliked not knowing of dangers and was instantly responsive to this strange occurrence.              Albert, too, noted that the bailey was oddly quiet and sent Robbie an inquiring look.

“Albert, take the lasses into the keep, go directly to my uncles library. I will find out what is amiss.” Albert nodded as Robbie went in search of his men. Stella thought it odd that Robbie had left her to dismount without so much as a smile, but she had seen the worry on his face and knew that he must have some concerns for their safety.  She dismounted and handed her reins to the stable lad, and waited as her father helped her mother from the black gelding and together the two of them went inside the keep with Albert.

The late morning sun made for lazy shadows as the three of them entered the keep and Albert led them down the dark halls to the MacDougall’s library.  The MacDougall was there, happy to see them come in and sent David, the steward to fetch Elinor.

“Albert, ‘tis good to see ye, my friend. “  MacDougall shook hands with Albert, indicating a seat across from his desk.

“Laird, we came into a very quiet bailey.  Is something amiss?”  Albert looked out the windows and saw Robbie speaking to a number of warriors, giving them orders and then running toward the stables.  The MacDougall watched Robbie, wrinkling his brow and shook his head.

“Nay, I have no idea, but I’ll put David on it right away.”  At that moment Elinor came into the library and was surprised and pleased to see that her friend Merry was there.