Lord Keeper (16 page)

“You did not think to stay in that little cottage, did you?” Maude asked with a devilish wink as the women scurried to gather her meager belongings.

Victoria offered little more than a nod, her thoughts on the night that lay ahead, as well as every night she knew would follow with Iain MacPherson.

Her silence as they set out on the path back to the castle did nothing to daunt her companions’ merriment. They nattered away, much to Victoria’s discomfort, their giggles a reflection of the very things she was unable to keep from her thoughts. Katherine was tucked away for the night, and the women settled in the solar for a final cup of tea.

Victoria had avoided this room. It was the place the lady of the manor inhabited the few hours of the day she wasn’t running the household, the place she entertained, hid from her lord when he displeased her. This place belonged to
that lady
—and now that lady was her.

“You seem distraught, mistress.”

Victoria jerked from her thoughts and looked at Jillian. “Distraught?”

Jillian nodded. “Though I cannot see why. It is clear you should be mistress of Fauldun Castle.”

Heat crept up Victoria’s cheeks. She had not forgotten the girl’s assumption that she was mistress of Fauldun Castle. Neither had Victoria forgotten the lie she told that day. She hadn’t bothered to speak to Jillian about it, so there was little doubt the girl wondered at the outrageous story.

Maude broke the quiet. “Why do you say that, lass?”

Jillian glanced in surprise around the room. “Can I be the only one who sees it?”

“Sees what?” Maude prodded.

“That she cares for the laird.”

Victoria flushed.

Jillian angled her head in Victoria’s direction. “And ’tis obvious he has a tenderness for her.”

Victoria stared at Jillian, whose eyes stared unfocused at the sewing in her lap.

“A man’s love is a rare thing.”

Sorrow stabbed at Victoria. Jillian was speaking of the man she had loved, the man who had so obviously loved her, the man she had lost. Victoria hadn’t loved Richard, so hadn’t mourned him. Would she mourn Iain MacPherson?

Jillian looked up, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I believe our guest speaks the truth,” Maude remarked.

Murmured agreement passed through the room. Only Victoria remained silent.

“Time for you to be off,” Maude said. “It will not do to have Iain searching for his bride on his wedding night as if it were the dinner hour.”

Victoria cursed the housekeeper’s observant eye as Maude whisked her off to the room she now shared with her husband. Victoria understood well enough where the bath, new linens, and fresh flowers would lead, but sight of the sheerest nightrail she’d ever laid eyes on tightened the knot in her stomach.

Maude slipped the garment over her head then with a knowing smile, bid her good night.

At last, alone in Iain’s large bed, Victoria studied her surroundings, searching for the smallest thread of reality. But a thorough inspection left her wondering who would wake her to say that this was a dream.

Her breath stilled with the sound of approaching footsteps. The man she now called lord and master had arrived. Why did the notion frighten her? It wouldn’t be the first time they had lain together.
Because
, her heart whispered,
this time, he will claim you as his, with every right to do so until the day you die. And perhaps you are glad?

Victoria watched in a mesmerized stupor as the door opened and Iain filled the opening. His eyes dropped to where her fingers twisted the colorful plaide that covered the bed.

“All is well?” His mouth twitched when the fire in the hearth crackled and she jumped. “You need not be afraid, love. I am your husband.”

The smile never left his face, and it seemed he moved in slow motion as he approached. He sat on the edge of the bed, and Victoria stiffened to keep from tilting toward him when the mattress shifted beneath his weight. His back to her, Iain leaned forward and grasped a boot. Muscles strained against his shirt. Victoria’s heart jumped in an erratic beat and she jerked her gaze onto the wall where played shadows cast by the bedside candle.

With each tug of his boot, the bed danced in unison with the light on the wall. When a boot hit the floor, she threw herself on her side facing away from him, yanking the covers over her head.

A long moment of silence followed, and the bed lifted when he stood. The rustling of material confirmed he was discarding his clothes. A tug on the covers, ghostly light, and he slipped into bed beside her. A gentle arm wrapped around her waist, and his warmth covered the length of her from behind. His hard length pressed into her buttocks. She tried to halt the tremor in her belly, but couldn’t. He wanted her, was ready for her. Light kisses trailed along the side of her neck. His arm unfolded from around her and fingers traced an airy line along her side, past her waist to the gentle arc of her hips. She shivered. Warm breath bathed her neck and her heart jumped into an erratic pattern.

His hand sought the soft flesh of her thigh then pulled her leg back toward him and a finger dipped into the unguarded core of her body. Tender warmth spread through Victoria. He ceased stroking her to tug her onto her back. Coming to his knees, Iain pulled her into a sitting position. She didn’t realize his intention until, in one easy motion, he had her nightrail over her head.

A shocking tide of desire swept through her when he came down on top of her. His lips met hers. Soft and pliable, they contrasted the hard part of him that moved in hot need against her thigh then, just as demanding, along the surface of her folds. She raised her hips to accommodate him, and he entered her in one quick thrust. Her intake of breath startled her, and a ripple of something deep within her radiated outward as he nipped at her ear.

“Sweet Victoria.”

Her heart leapt. He knew her name, had claimed her. Tears threatened and the unexpected need to push him away caused her grip on his shoulders to tense. As if sensing her intention, he moved faster, meeting her need with a heat grown fierce with knowledge of its prey. His face lifted from her neck and his gaze met and held hers as he thrust harder…faster. A quiver began deep in her core and, like a moth to flame, she gave into the rhythm.

* * *

Victoria lay awake, her thoughts centered on the even breathing of the man asleep beside her. Waning candlelight flickered across his features as if in harmony with every breath he took. She eased onto her side and, with a tentative hand, traced the muscles of his arm. He stirred and she drew back, closing her eyes in feigned sleep.

When his breathing again evened out, she relaxed and a sudden weariness overtook her. A weariness she knew had as much to do with the appearance of her relatives as it did with Iain MacPherson. At the thought of Edwin Hockley, Victoria rolled to the other side of the bed with the intention of rising.

“Where are you going?”

She paused. “To look in on Katherine.”

Iain reached out, his arm going round her waist, and tugged her to him. He nuzzled her ear. “This is our wedding night and already you are trying to escape me?”

She ignored the quiver in the pit of her stomach. “I have been thinking, my lord.”

“Thinking is the last thing you should be doing tonight,” he said, his voice husky.

“I am wondering,” she forged on despite his romantic efforts, “if Edwin would allow Katherine to stay.”

Iain’s amorous advances halted. “Stay? You mean here?”

She winced at the boom of his deep voice in her ear. “She was never welcome in Richard’s household, and I doubt it is any better in Edwin’s house.”

Iain leaned away and looked at her. “Did Hockley treat you as your husband did?”

She shook her head. “Nay.”

“He never hurt you?”

“Nay.”

“Then why do you fear him?”

“I do not fear him,” she answered. “I simply have no great love for him.”

“Why?”

She hesitated before saying, “I thought you said tonight was not a night for such things.”

Iain grunted. “Aye, and this conversation bears out the logic. Still, you insisted, so here we are. Tell me what you know of him.”

“I know very little.” Victoria eased her conscience with the logic that she had, indeed, found out just how little she knew of him. “When I was married to Richard I seldom saw him.”

“And after his death?”

“Edwin was away when Richard died. By the time he received word, Richard was long buried, and I had gone.”

“Is that when you fled to Montrose Abbey?”

Victoria regarded him. “I retired to Richard’s country estates after his death.”

“You did not see Hockley at all?” Iain asked.

“He returned when he received word that Lord Grayton wished my hand in marriage.”

Iain bolted upright. “What—who is Lord Grayton?”

“No one.”

Iain’s mouth thinned. “How many others are there?”

“Others?”

“Aye, other men.”

Victoria stiffened. “I do not comprehend your meaning.”

Iain swung his legs over the edge of the bed and took a candle from the box of unlit tapers and held the tip to the flame of the guttering candle. “I am wondering how many more men will come calling for you.”

“How many more—” Fury shot to the surface. “Well, Lord Keeper” —Iain’s head jerked in her direction— “if you like, in the morning, I shall
create
a list for you. But I warn you, it will take the better part of the day.” Victoria snapped her fingers. “I must remember to add your name to the list.”

“
Christ
!” Iain slammed the new candle into the holder and threw himself onto her. “There will be no lists,” he growled with a fierceness that startled her. “And no additions to any imaginary list.”

Chapter Eighteen

Lying on his stomach, Iain began drifting into a peaceful sleep when Victoria broke the quiet.

“My lord?”

He grunted.

“I do not jest about Katherine remaining here.”

He opened an eye. “You believe Hockley will allow it?”

“He might be convinced.”

“If you mean by killing him, I am agreeable.”

“Killing him?”

Something in the quick reply roused him in a way he didn’t like, and Iain rose and crossed to the hearth.

“You cannot be serious?” she asked.

“I will do what must be done. But tell me,” he reached for the poker leaning against the fireplace, “what have you in mind?”

“We must be crafty.”

Iain faced her. She was on her knees, sheet clutched to her breast. Her eyes fell to his naked groin and she yanked them back up to his face, cheeks red.

He pulsed, but ignored the sensation. “What would you know of craftiness?”

“Only that we cannot ask Edwin if she can stay. He would see it as…”

“Weakness?” Iain faced the hearth.

“Aye. He knows I care for her. So, to act otherwise would create suspicion. However, with the right incentive, he may agree.”

Iain tossed another log on the fire and poked at the embers. “What sort of incentive could I possibly offer Hockley?”

“Not you. Me.”

“You?” Iain turned and leaned on the poker. “What have
you
to give? Everything you have belongs to me.”

“True,” she answered with a freezing civility that should have made him regret the words, but didn’t. “But what use have you of property in England?”

“Property?”

“The one-third of Richard’s holdings I received as inheritance after his death.”

Here was the reason King Henry wanted his countess back in England. He wouldn’t countenance English land falling into the hands of a Highlander. Neither would Hockley. Though neither he nor his king could have known of Iain’s plans to marry her. Iain studied his wife. Only one person could have given any clues to her whereabouts. Who did she inform of her plans before she left England?

“Well, my lord,” she pressed.

“The girl means that much to you?” he asked.

A shadow crept across her features. “She has little hope of happiness with Edwin.”

As little hope as his wife would have had? Here was the chance to show her he was nothing like Hockley or her dead husband. “Do as you wish,” he said.

Iain barely registered her dazzling smile before she was off the bed and flung herself into his arms. Dropping the poker, he staggered back a step in order to regain his balance while holding her close.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his chest, then stepped back.

Victoria crossed to the bed and retrieved her nightshift from the floor. She slipped it over her head, allowing the sheet to fall to the carpet. Rosy nipples shone like tiny buds through the sheer material, and Iain dropped his gaze to the curls between her legs. He pulsed in response to the erotic picture and she drew a sharp breath. He met her gaze. Red flooded her cheeks. Grabbing the robe that still lay across the foot of the bed, she hurried in the direction of the door.

“Where are you going?”

Without looking back, she waved her hand over her head and said, “To see Katherine.”

Iain had just lowered himself onto the bed, when five minutes later the door swung open and Victoria rushed in.

“
My lord.”

He leapt to his feet.

“She is gone.”

Victoria’s voice shook, and Iain wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Taking her by the shoulders, he eased her onto the edge of the bed. “What has happened?”

“Katherine—she is not in her chambers.”

“Perhaps she could not sleep. She may have gone to the library, or to the kitchen for some warm milk,” he said, though, in truth, he doubted the girl would dare tramp past the men sleeping in the great hall. He released Victoria and reached for his breacan. “No harm can come to her within the castle walls.”
If she’d been wise enough not to leave the castle.

Iain had his tartan wrapped around him a moment later, and they hurried to Katherine’s room. Just as Victoria had said, the girl was gone. Her dress lay in a heap on the couch. Iain threw back the heavy curtain that hung across the balcony door and found it locked. He dropped the curtains and crossed the room to Victoria. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her along until they reached his bedchamber.

“Wait here,” he ordered, and pushed her across the threshold.

“I will wait in the hall,” she insisted.

Iain lifted a purposeful brow. “You forget the men sleeping in the hall.”

Victoria shook her head and tried to push past him.

“Cease,” he said. “I will return in a little while, and with that girl. Though she may receive a beating first.”

At the shaken look on Victoria’s face, Iain realized he had hit upon the memory of the spanking he had given her. He would have laughed but, instead, made a hasty retreat.

Twenty minutes later, Iain cursed at sight of Victoria hurrying across the courtyard toward him.

“Nothing?” she asked once she had reached where he stood beside the stairs leading to the battlement.

“Nay.”

Fear flashed in her eyes.

“We are making a thorough search,” he said more gently.

“Do you think this has to do with Edwin?”

“Aye,” Iain admitted, though how, he couldn’t fathom. He asked the question that had bothered him. “Why did he bring her?”

“Because he knows I care for her, and he hoped she would persuade me to return to England. Fool,” she muttered. “He must have known the danger.” She searched Iain’s face. “How would he get her out of the keep?”

“He could not have.”

“Perhaps she went back to the cottage.” Victoria stepped aside for a warrior who hurried past and bound up the stairs. “I will look.” She turned, but Iain caught her arm.

“Nay, I do not want to worry about you as well.”

Her face paled. “If anything has happened to her…”

“There are a dozen possibilities for why she is not in her room.”

“Such as?”

Iain hesitated. The truth was, he couldn’t think of one. “Perhaps she took a stroll,” he said. His logic brought no response, and he grinned. “Mayhap she fancies our Highland men, after all.”

“Trust a man to reason thusly,” Victoria muttered as he shoved her in the direction of the castle and nodded to the nearest guard to escort her.

* * *

Victoria jolted awake. Pain shot through her neck where she’d fallen asleep against the hard wood of the kitchen chair. She cupped the spot with her hand and rolled her neck. Movement in the corner near the external door drew her attention. She paused, squinted in the faint light cast by the fireplace embers, and made out a human form.

“Who is it?”

When no answer came, she stood. “Who is there?” Still no answer. She took a step forward and the form retreated. “Why do you hide?” Another movement and Victoria recognized the flutter of a cloak. “
Katherine
?” A small gasp said she’d hit the mark.

Victoria rushed forward, grabbed her arm, and dragged her to the fading fire. She yanked back the girl’s hood. “Where in Hades have you been? I have been sick with worry.”

Katherine yanked free. “Calm yourself. I simply took a walk.”

Victoria cursed. Her husband had been right. “Surely rest would have served you better?” she snapped.

“I have been traveling ten days,” Katherine answered, a peevish note to her voice. “My body has grown stiff.”

That, Victoria could sympathize with. Her trip to Fauldun Castle had been but four days and her back had been stiff as a board. “You cannot go about this time of night,” she said, despite her empathy. A lesson learned the hard way.

“’Tis safe enough.”

“The keep is large, much larger than Hockley Castle. You cannot—” Victoria halted when Riley rushed into the kitchen through the back door.

His eyes met hers and he paled.

“What has happened?” she demanded.

His gaze riveted onto Katherine, and Victoria looked from him to her step-daughter. Iain’s words ran through her mind. “
Mayhap she found she fancied our Highland men, after all.”

“Perhaps the two of you would care to explain?”

“Explain?” Riley said in a dazed voice.

“I know tomfoolery when I see it.”

“Nay, my lady. No tomfoolery.”

Victoria raised a brow. “What, then?”

“There is nothing to explain,” Katherine interjected. “I told you, I was out for a walk,”

“A walk, is it?”

“That is all,” Katherine replied with maddening aplomb.

Victoria addressed Riley. “What have you to say?”

“What could he add?” The girl gave a regal wave of her hand. “I have already told you, I was out for a walk.”

“Riley can speak for himself,” Victoria said.

But he remained mute.

“Riley, fetch my lord.” She almost felt sorry for him when his face turned even whiter.

“Why do you not listen?” Katherine said. “I was out for a walk. Why involve your husband?”

“He is scouring the keep for you. Do you expect me not to tell him your whereabouts?”

Riley blushed. “Nay, Ka—my lady is correct. We must tell the laird at once.”

“As you wish,” Katherine retorted. “But I am tired and wish to retire.”

Victoria caught her arm. “Now you are tired?” Pushing her into a chair, Victoria faced Riley. “Inform my lord we have found Katherine and ask him to come here immediately.”

Riley turned.

“Oh, and Riley.”

He faced her again.

“Be sure to return with him.”

By the time the two men arrived, Victoria had a fire blazing in the hearth and Katherine still sat at the table.

“All is well?” Iain asked.

“I think not.” Victoria looked at Riley.

Iain glanced between the two, plainly puzzled at the byplay.

“Riley offered no explanations?” Victoria said.

“He said Lady Hockley was found.”

“I went for a walk.” Katherine put in. “I am sorry, my lord. I did not know anyone would be looking for me.” Her eyes softened. “Forgive me, it was an innocent mistake.”

“Mistake?” Victoria snorted. “Speak plainly with Lord MacPherson, he is not a man to toy with.”

Riley stepped forward. “Do not blame the lass, laird.”

Iain’s face registered surprise. “What should I not blame her for?”

“It is my fault she was not in her chambers.”

“Did you force her from her room?”

Riley shook his head.

“Did you threaten her?”

The lad looked shaken. “Nay, laird. I woudna’ do such a thing.”

Iain regarded him. “What
did
you do?”

Riley hung his head. “I asked her to meet me.”

Iain looked at Katherine. “You went willingly?”

Victoria started to say something, but he stopped her with a slight shake of his head.

“Well, lass?” he pressed the girl.

“I went for a walk,” she insisted.

“You did not meet Riley?”

She shrugged.

“Do not be afraid. If Riley has wronged you, he will pay, not you.”

Victoria gasped, but a nervous glance from Katherine confirmed Riley’s only fault had been in trusting her. Katherine made no move to answer. Iain sighed and extended a hand toward Riley. Without a word, the lad unbuckled his scabbard and handed scabbard and sword to Iain.

“What does this mean?” Katherine demanded.

“He will be punished,” Iain answered.

She rose. “But he has committed no wrong.”

“Never mind,” Victoria said. “My lord will see he is dealt with.” Victoria was secretly impressed when Riley made no move to blame Katherine, but stood even straighter.

“What is to be his fate?” Katherine asked.

“It is of no consequence,” Victoria said, pushing her toward the door. Katherine resisted only slightly and Victoria feared she would let poor Riley go to his doom.

“Wait.” Katherine stopped. “He did nothing wrong, my lord.”

Victoria shook her head. “You are young and do not understand the way of things.”

Katherine shot her a look of annoyance. “I will be seventeen in a month.”

“Seventeen?” Iain repeated.

His surprised response pulled Victoria’s attention to him.

“A child, eh?” His gaze darkened. “’Tis a fine time to learn my wife is gifted in the art of deception.”

“
Sixteen
is a child.”

Iain shook his head. “Young, but not a child.” He turned to Katherine. “You have caused me no little discomfort, and on a night I am not inclined to tolerate intrusions. Out with it. What happened?”

Riley stepped forward.

“Nay, lad,” Iain stopped him.

Katherine remained mute.

“I warn you, Lady Hockley,” Iain’s voice grew hard. “Make haste with your explanation or Riley suffers the full extent of the law.”

“What would that be?”

Deadly silence fell on the room.

“A lady’s honor is beyond reproach,” Iain said in a soft voice. “It is a serious crime for a man to dishonor her. He will be whipped and cast from the clan.”

Riley flinched, but Katherine made no move to defend him and Iain added, “Then I will be forced to deal with your uncle.”

Katherine’s eyes widened. “Please, my lord, I—I did meet him.”

“And?”

“He came to my room earlier.”

Victoria gasped and, at last, Katherine had the good grace to blush.

“He asked if I would meet him.”

“You agreed?” Iain asked.

She nodded. “Do you not see? He did nothing wrong. I met him of my own free will.”

“But you are wrong. He did do wrong.”

Genuine panic appeared on her face. “He did not force me into—into…”

“Into what?” Iain demanded.

“Nothing, we met and…talked.”

Even Riley blanched at the obvious lie.

“It would have been interesting to hear that conversation,” Iain commented.

“My lord?” Katherine said.

Iain reached toward her and produced a blade of grass from her hair, then held it out for her inspection. Katherine burst into tears. Iain grimaced and poor Riley shifted from one foot to the other.