Risk Everything (15 page)

She felt the stubble of new growth there. It sent prickly chills down her neck to her chest, to pool at her breasts. They tingled and grew heavy. She knew he could see her nipples harden and press against the cloth there.

“ ’Tis for this you stoke my anger? Hmm?” The husky growl of his voice unnerved her.

“Release me, fool. I want no touch from ye.”

Rolf lowered his mouth to her neck, avoiding the chafed flesh there. His teeth nipped, then suckled strongly. When she shuddered against him, a chuckle rumbled from his chest.

Suddenly, he released her.

With head held high, she strode from the great hall. The urge to run to the highest point of the castle consumed her.

No one would know how hard it was for her to keep her stride even, to walk out of that room and into the crowd of people who lingered outside the doorway.

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“ ’Tis well-kissed she be, by the looks o’ her lips,” snickered a laundry woman.

“Did he give her a taste o’ the lovin’ to come?” The blacksmith’s helper grinned at her.

“Nay, lad. Seems to me he took a taste o’ her neck,” the blacksmith replied.

“Did he beat her, do ye think, Da?” the tanner’s son asked, his voice worried.

“Had he, she wouldna be walkin’ so easily.”

The man’s pungent odor made Meghan hold her breath as she swept past.

“ ’Tis a mistake he didna,” muttered a battle-scarred warrior.

“Beat ’em and bed ’em. ’Tis how ye show a lass her place.”

Meghan’s leg muscles twitched, longing to strike out at his groin. Had she worn boots, he would be crouched over holding tight to his shriveled manhood as he spewed his meal onto the rushes.

“Enough,” Dougald ordered. “Go about your duties or return to your meal.” He made no move to hinder Meghan’s progress.

Ugsome barked. Garith tried to hold tight to the ruff of his neck, but the dog shook his head and freed himself. He bounded ahead of Meghan, causing the crowd to scatter.

Much to her relief, several long strides later she reached the stairwell.

Rolf smelled the scent of heather that lingered in the air where she had walked. He steeled himself not to bound after her, throw her over his shoulder, and carry her to his solar. He would have her, whether she willed it or not.

He grimaced. If she remained unwilling, could he force the woman he had once loved?

Had it not been for Connor, never would he have thought to treat Meghan in this way. In his dreams, she was always willing and pliant, ready to meet him thrust for thrust. He doubted she was virgin still. Not after that time at the royal court.

He had sat at table three seats from her during the evening meal. The women had retired to the solar, leaving the men pri-

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vacy. Meghan protested that it was a silly thing to keep secret what they did. Not long after, squires came into the room to be of service to the knights. One youth seemed new to the task, for he hesitated, though he mimicked the other squires.

“Here, boy,” a comely young knight called out and crooked a finger at the squire.

The boy took an earthenware pot shoved at him by a page and went up to the knight. Once the man untied his leggings and released his formidable tarse, the squire looked startled.

A lock of chestnut hair slithered from his cap and down his back. The knight had a difficult time with his aim, for the pot trembled and wavered.

“Hold steady if ye dinna want piss on yer clothing,” the knight grumbled.

Suspicious, Rolf had moved closer to see the squire. ’Twas Meghan. Her green eyes furrowed in concentration as she tried to keep the man from soaking her purloined clothing.

As soon as the knight finished, Rolf hauled Meghan from the room like a sack of grain, his arm around her waist. She shrieked and kicked like a wildcat. He dumped her at her brother’s feet. She bounded up and clawed Rolf ’s face.

Connor had given over the duty of tanning her arse to Damron. From the screeches in the next room when he did so,

’twas clear Damron was well used to it. The next day, Damron sent Meghan to an abbey to spend the rest of the summer months.

She had not changed over the years. He had heard of other incidents when she masqueraded as someone else and ventured where she should not. She was still determined to have her way and obey no man. She would him, though. He would train her as he would a prize stallion. ’Twas yield or break. Either way, he thought grimly, he must have her.

He removed his food-spattered tunic and shirt. Bared to the waist, he wore tight black trews that left no doubt of his aroused state.

“You would make her your leman?” The man’s voice was hard and angry as he confronted Rolf.

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“Aye. My leman. Dinna think to interfere, Alpin.”

“How can I not?” Alpin scowled and slung himself onto a bench beside him. He scowled at Rolf ’s engorged sex. “It displeases me that you would flaunt a leman when Ailsa arrives.”

“ ’Tis naught to do with her.”

“Naught? She will deem it an insult to find you swiving a leman. She will be much aggrieved.”

“What matter if I swive my leman, a serving wench, a woman of the keep, or any other?” Rolf raised a haughty brow at Alpin. “Does Ailsa think to interfere where she should not? ’Tis not her right. I willna allow it.” His words issued a warning.

Alpin fell silent. His ice-blue eyes squinted down at his booted feet.

“Come, Dougald.” Rolf gestured, impatient. “I have need of a good workout.”

“Ha, ’tis more than a workout you will be needin’ to rid you of that battering ram.” Dougald laughed and shook his head.

“Methinks you had best visit a doxy afore you do yourself an injury.”

“You will be visitin’ the rushes if you dinna heed me.” Rolf turned to his squire and ordered, “Bring Beast to the practice yard. Put the heavy cover o’er the blade. Dougald, be glad I bid the armorer make the safeguard. Carry your staunchest shield, for I dinna mean to hold back my blows.”

He turned on his heels and stormed out of the room.

Meghan hurled past Rolf ’s solar, her hands fisting so tight her nails dug into her palms. Ugsome padded beside her. She heard Ede running to catch up with her long strides.

“Meghan, where do you think to go?”

“Up, Ede. Just up.” Meghan swiped at her eyes, startled by the moisture that brimmed there. “I want to feel the air on my face, to see the sun set on this miserable day.”

“Milady,” called a man behind her. “You canna go upon the battlements. Lord Rolf willna like it.” The warrior hurried to plant himself in front of her.

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She halted afore she stepped on his toes. “What is your name?” she asked bluntly.

“Jamie, lady.” He shifted and eyed Ugsome as the dog started to growl low in his throat. After he backed up, the animal quieted.

“Well, now, Jamie. You can escort me to the battlements or you can report to your master and tell him I said he can stick his head in horse shite. ’Tis your choice. Either way, I am going out into the air.” When he appeared reluctant, she strode around him and was up the stairway afore he could blink.

“Lucifer’s hindquarters,” he muttered, “never have I seen a more stubborn woman.” He huffed and cursed under his breath and pounded up the stairs behind her. Arriving at the rough-hewn door to the battlements, Jamie reached around her and pushed the door open. He followed close on her heels.

Cold air whipped the clothing tight to her body and tugged at her hair.

Oh, how she wished to be alone. Just a moment to herself to regain her composure. She walked over to an opening notch in the crenellated battlement, where Jamie hovered so close she felt his arm twitch in readiness to grab her should she decide to plunge to the ground below.

She took deep, slow breaths and looked out over Loch Rimsdale, so peaceful in the early evening. They were at the rear of the castle. No land stretched out below, for they had built the castle close to the eastern tip of the island. Just enough room remained for a small grassy area and a stone wall set above the big boulders that formed there.

No way to escape by that route, for not a single tree graced the line of wall. Not even a child could explore it unseen.

Upon hearing the clatter of swords and shields, she moved farther along the walkway at the south side of the castle.

Below was a large practice area, fenced off with wooden rail-ings. Rolf and Dougald battled there, surrounded by cheering men and gawking women.

Sweat glistened off Rolf ’s back and chest as he circled his

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opponent. When he struck, his muscles flowed and surged with his movements. His breeches looked filled to bursting as the muscles in his buttocks and thighs tensed with each lunge and parry. His arm rose high as he swung his great battle axe in a wide arc.

“Rolf ’s usin’ Beast. If Dougald isna fleet, ’tis a broken rib he’ll be sportin’.” Jamie shook his head in sympathy.

Light flashed off the steel shaft as the axe crashed into Dougald’s shield. The man rocked from the blow and barely had time to balance himself afore Rolf struck again.

“Mayhap Rolf will get as good as he gives.” Meghan eyed the combatants as she appraised their skills. After several minutes, she saw what she would do if she were in Dougald’s position. “Watch. Dougald will strike low on the next swing.”

“Nay. He willna have time to duck then raise his shield for the following blow,” Jamie muttered.

True to her thoughts, when Rolf next struck, Dougald took the blow on his shield and allowed the weight of it to bend his knees enough to attack Rolf ’s legs with his own blunted sword. Both men tumbled to the ground.

Rolf ’s hearty boom of laughter surprised her. He lay sprawled on his back, arms outstretched, sounding as if someone had apprized him of delightful news. Meghan had not heard him laugh since she was ten and five years of age. She stared, engrossed. For the first time, he was much as he used to be.

Strands of sweat-dampened hair clung to his forehead and cheeks as his body shook with mirth. Her gaze strayed over the impressive breadth of his shoulders, down his sweating chest, and lingered on the taut muscles of his abdomen. The hair there narrowed to meet the heavy leather belt at his waist.

Her eyes did not stop to linger. Nor did she want them to. The slenderness of his belly and his widespread legs accented the bulge of his manhood beneath his clothing. Interesting. Did her eyes play tricks with her? That part of him seemed to change. She frowned and wondered. Did laughter arouse a man?

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That couldna be. He no longer laughed. He lay outstretched. Not a muscle moved. Had Dougald injured him?

Startled, her gaze flew over his body, seeking a wound. Once she spied his face, she knew the source of his stimulation.

His hot stare seemed to bore into her eyes. He had sensed her on the battlements watching him. Had felt her gaze rove over his body. Lucifer’s pointy ears! Did the man have the sight of a hawk? He lifted his hips slightly. A bold invitation for her to fill her gaze with him.

“Hmpf!” She frowned and slanted her nose into the air as if she had spotted something unsavory. As she swung around to leave, his laughter rang out again. Had she a stone to throw, he wouldna be laughing long. If Jamie dared to utter even the thought of a snicker, she would lay him flat with a kick to his chest, sore feet or not. Just see if she wouldn’t.

“Displayin’ his wares fer all to see,” she muttered beneath her breath, then whirled around and stomped off.

Jamie held the stairway door open for her to pass through.

She made her way down the steps, mumbling as she went.

“Mayhap he can impress the scullery maid, but it takes more than an ample tarse to catch my eye.”

When she reached the landing and approached Ede’s room, the hair on her nape prickled. Booted footsteps clambered up the stairwell at the far end of the hallway.

Chapter 12

“Demented fool.” Meghan grasped Ede’s door, wrenched it open, and slammed it behind her. As she dropped the latch, Rolf ’s footsteps pounded to a halt on the other side.

“Do ye wish to change your mind, lass?” his voice purred.

“Two days is a looong wait to quench your needs.”

“I would as soon jump from the parapet, dolt.”

“Aye. You looked ready to jump but moments ago.” A wicked chuckle sounded on the other side of the door. “Right atop o’ me. Be that your favorite way for bedsport, hmm?”

Meghan gritted her teeth, grabbed an empty wooden bucket beside the clothing chest, and slung it at the door. The loud clatter gratified her; the half-moon mark in the heavy wood satisfied her even more. But seeing a crescent on his forehead would have brought a smile to her face.

When Rolf next spoke, Meghan scowled at the door.

“Oh, aye. I know you think of mating with me.” His voice deepened in laughter. “Had you not, you wouldna be so aggrieved.”

“Get you gone, oaf. I would as soon mate with a bandy-legged swineherd,” Meghan spat out the words in contempt.

“Two nights, Meghan. A
lonely
two nights must you wait, but not one hour more.”

“Surely he will break it down now,” Ede’s shocked voice whispered in her ear. “Never has he allowed anyone to defy him.”

Meghan turned and frowned at her. “Ha! Ne’er have I al-

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lowed any man to speak such dishonor to me afore this day and not put a knife to him.”

“You have killed for such?” Ede’s shocked eyes opened so wide they looked like blueberries resting in a spot of milk.

“Nay, not killed. ’Twas unfortunate they didna die. I but pricked their throats to remind them to keep such words behind their teeth.”

As Rolf ’s footsteps faded, so did the sound of his laughter.

She gritted her teeth, wishing she could stamp her foot like an angry child, open the door, and hurl the bucket at his back.

She did not. She was no fool.

“ ’Tis unlike Rolf to force a woman. And never have I known him to take a leman.” Worried, Ede paced around the room, wringing her hands. “He has ever been careful where he spilled his seed. He has sired no bastards.”