The Enchantress (33 page)

“Not yet.” His mouth brushed against her lips, moved down, and feasted on her neck. With her hands trapped by the dress, she felt a helplessness that was thrilling. But there was a power in it, too, a recklessness and a joy as she felt the wild beat of his heart and the hardness of his manhood rising against the side of her knee.

His mouth continued its tortuous descent until he began to suckle her breast through the thin material of the shift. And Laura found herself quickly melting, any semblance of control slipping away.

He pushed her back on the bed, and in a haze of confusion and passion, Laura felt his hands caress and peel away her clothes. A frenzied madness was overwhelming her, an aching desperation that was playing havoc on her senses as his mouth traveled down her body, kissing, tasting, and tormenting her with every touch of his lips and tongue. When he reached the downy mound and descended still farther, Laura became completely undone, crying out with wild abandon.

A moment later he pulled her into his arms and, with her heart still racing, her body still trembling with aftershocks of the release, he placed a tender kiss beneath her ear.

“Hearing you cry out a moment ago, a noise that I’m certain must have echoed in the Hall, I would have to say that you are now definitely ruined.”

Laura spotted the satisfied smile that had spread across those incredibly beautiful lips. She looked down and realized that while she was completely naked, William, on the other hand, was still clothed.

“And how about you?” She gently pushed him away and slid off the bed until she was standing before him. She drew him to his feet and pressed her naked flesh against the solid muscles of his body. “I wonder if you could be ruined in a similar fashion.”

His eyes followed the movements of her hands as she removed his clan chief’s brooch and slowly pushed his tartan off his shoulder.

“Never.” His hands rose to touch the skin of her arms, but she pushed them away and instead slowly pulled the white shirt over his head. “I will groan--maybe even grunt a wee bit now and again, but ruined enough to cry out? Nay, Laura. I am the very model of control.”

She recalled more than just groaning last night, but she withheld any comment. Glancing up at his face, though, she noticed the amused expression.

She started placing soft kisses on his chest. “I can see, m’lord, that you are presenting me with a challenge that I cannot refuse.”

He again tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hands to his sides and instead let her mouth travel down the hard planes of his stomach as he stood before her.

Reaching his belt, she glanced up and smiled at the strain showing in his handsome face. She undid the belt and let the kilt fall to his feet. His powerful thighs flexed under her touch, and her breath caught in her chest at the sight and the feel of his full manhood pressing so intimately against her breasts.

Her fingers moved down slowly and encircled the smooth flesh. Placing her mouth again on his stomach, she followed the path that he had with her, descending slowly until her lips caressed the pulsing shaft.

She heard him draw in a deep breath and hold it. Building her courage, Laura let the tip of her tongue trace the length of him. Fiercely, he thrust his hands into her hair.

“Laura, I cannot take much of this.” His voice was hoarse. Glancing up, she could see the sweat glistening on his brow.

She wanted him to become undone as she had become undone. On impulse, she opened her mouth and took him in.

Laura heard him call her name as he pulled her roughly to her feet and turned her facedown on the bed.

She spread her palms flat against the bedclothes, lifting herself to receive him as he felt for the moist opening. His penetration was hard, and she cried out softly with the force of it.

Immediately, William leaned forward over her back, his mouth kissing her neck, the erotic spot beneath her ear. His hands caressed her breasts, teasing her erect nipples, before moving lower to stroke her very center with expert fingers.

Now it was she who was to lose control, and she panted for breath, rocking back into him, hardly feeling herself getting lifted off the ground as he drove into her with fast and powerful thrusts.

A growling sound vibrated in his wide chest as he took hold of her writhing hips with his strong hands, plunging into her over and over.

As the heavens burst open with a million dazzling shocks of reds and golds before her eyes, Laura did not know if she cried out. Vaguely, she felt him grip her shoulders, toppling her forward as he himself convulsed with a loud cry. Instinctively, she clutched his arms as he wrapped them around her, pressing her into the bed.

How long they stayed that way, Laura had no way of knowing. She gradually became conscious of their fast and uneven breathing, relishing the feel of their heated bodies molded together both inside and out.

Eventually, she felt him stir, gently withdrawing from her and placing tender kisses on her spine, on her neck. He rolled to the side and turned her, drawing her against his chest and kissing her lips. His mouth slipped to her ear.

“I’m happy to say, m’lady, that for the first time in my life, I have been ruined.”

The portly priest glanced excitedly from the letter in his hand to the faces of the two monks standing before him.

“‘Tis a great opportunity, to be sure. And from the sound of this response to my letter, I think your chances of securing positions are quite good.”

The tall monk entwined his gnarled fingers before him, his look inscrutable.

“From all the news coming from Balvenie Castle,” the priest continued, “the new countess’s school promises to be a haven of learning.”

The wiry monk squinted up at his leader, but the taller man ignored him and addressed the priest. “If you are so keen on this school of...the earl of Athol’s...”

“‘Tis his wife’s school.”

“I stand corrected. His wife’s. Why are you yourself not applying for a position?”

“In truth, I cannot.” The priest reddened slightly. “My place is here at Ironcross Castle. But this letter is very clear about you.”

“What exactly does it say, my friend?”

“Why, that the Lady Catherine is very receptive to meeting with you.” The man waved the letter encouragingly. “I’d say your positions are assured.”

The priest continued to talk, waving the letter about. The taller monk, excusing himself, limped away, his eyes shining beneath his hood. His heart was drumming, and mind was racing. Tomorrow, they would be on their way to Balvenie Castle.

Things could not be going more smoothly, he thought with a grim smile. With the Blade of Barra at St. Duthac’s and himself at Balvenie, it would not be long before the Treasure of Tiberius was his...and his alone.

******

Laura was hesitant at first when her husband asked her to accompany him to the village the next morning. With Christmas and the clan dinner only a day away, she felt her first priority should be to lend a hand to Chonny or Symon in the preparations. But William insisted that she meet her new clan folk and see how they lived, so she gave in to his wishes. Leaving Miriam in the care of Gilbert, she headed out with her husband and a group of his men.

Puffs of white highlighted a brilliant blue sky, and she soon found that the people of Clan Ross were busy with preparations of their own as the group trekked through the village. Large circles of holly and ivy and mistletoe had been connected together, forming spheres of green that were then hung from lofts and doorways and even from the rustic sign above the entry to the Three Cups Tavern.

Some of the faces she had already seen at Blackfearn Castle, but even those she did not know gathered around them wherever they went, welcoming the laird and his new wife as they made their way through the tiny village.

After stopping at a number of cottages, William led Laura to the market cross, where the laird made a great show of introducing his blushing bride to the smiling throng. From there the small group moved out of the village to a tiny, tumble-down cottage nestled into the side of a hill by the running stream. It was here, she was told, that the former steward’s widow had come to live.

As William approached the low doorway, Edward quickly filled Laura in on the details regarding Robert’s widow, including the laird’s concerns about the old woman living all alone.

The somewhat tottering woman ushered them all into the hovel, and Laura soon saw the reason for her husband’s concern. The hut itself was damp and cold, with no fireplace but only an open pit with a chunk of dying peat embers to warm the black pot of porridge hanging above it. A straw pallet in the corner clearly served the old woman for a bed, and there was only one small stool to sit on, near a rickety table by a shutterless window.

“I’m so delighted for ye, my dear,” the woman said. “Edward, be a good lad and fetch the block of wood so that the laird has something to sit on. ‘Tis around on the south side of the cottage.”

Grinning like a young boy, the aging warrior went after the rude seat. At William’s insistence, the two women sat by the cheerless fire.

“Luella,” he began with a meaningful glance at Laura, “I wish to have some dresses made for my bride.”

“Aye, Will,” the woman responded, reaching out and taking hold of Laura's hand with her icy fingers. “A lass so bonny as this one needs fine things.”

“True. A trunk full of them.”

When Laura opened her mouth to object, William shot her a hard look and she stopped herself. Though in truth she could see little use in having more than two good dresses.

“But,” the laird continued, “there is no one left at the castle who can stitch or embroider the way you can.”

“I
was
fairly good at that, don’t ye know?” she said confidentially to Laura before turning back to the laird. “But surely young Maire can handle the task.”

“Nay.” William shook his head. “She has all of the housekeeping on her shoulders now.”

“Well, if ye would find an able steward with a wife...” Her face saddened suddenly, and Laura knew she was thinking of her late husband.

“We have found a steward, Luella,” Edward broke in.

“Oh? And has he a wife?”

“Nay, Luella.” Edward continued. “Like me, the man’s an old bachelor to his very bones.”

“Auld bachelor!” she scoffed at the giant warrior. “And ye be auld? Why ye’re a man barely full grown.”

Laura decided it was time to speak up. “What these two are trying to say is that we need you at the castle, Luella.”

“I?, ‘Tis kind of you, mistress, but I think we’d all be better off if I was not a burden--”

“Luella.” William’s voice was stern. “I’ll not have any burdensome women in my keep. We need a good seamstress. We need you.”

“And there’s something else,” Laura added. “There is a child at the castle who needs to learn such skills.”

“Aye,” the laird agreed. “Wee Miriam has come back to the castle. She’ll be needing dresses as well. But Laura is correct. Who’s to teach the lassie if you don’t?”

Luella looked from one face to the next, her lips pursed as she considered the question. Finally, her brow cleared and she nodded. “Very well. But only so long as I’m needed.”

Laura almost laughed at the relief so transparent on William’s and Edward’s faces, but she knew how they felt. And she also knew that her handsome husband would never again allow this old woman to live in conditions like these.

*****

From waking up in the morning with Laura nestled in his arms, to attending Christ’s Mass with his family and clan, to finally sitting down to the most successful feast ever put on in Blackfearn’s Great Hall, William Ross decided that this had to be the most perfect day of his life.

Until now.

Her violet-blue eyes flashing, Molly pranced across the floor to a spot directly in front of William as the pipers struck up another tune. There was a saucy, wild look in her eyes as she focused on the dais and on him. And then she began to dance.

The Ross looked hopefully toward the doorway through which Laura had departed with a sleepy Miriam not long ago. His wife had promised to be back as soon as the child was tucked away. William wished it were this very moment.

Molly continued to dance for him, her legs kicking high to the music. He turned to Wyntoun for rescue, but the useless blackguard was involved in a lengthy discussion with Gilbert on Church hierarchy.

“You’ve been breaking my heart, Will.”

Turning, he found the woman had leaped the short distance onto the dais and was leaning seductively toward him. Jumping back to the floor, she whirled, tossing away her shawl and revealing a low-cut linen blouse that displayed more cleavage than William had seen in public in recent memory.

He turned back to his brother and Wyntoun, but she was back up on the dais in an instant. Her eyes shone with desire, and when the wench leaned provocatively over the table, her breasts nearly toppled out of the blouse. William looked quickly away from her creamy white bosom. But at the feel of her long fingers seductively stroking the back of his hand, he very nearly leaped out of his chair as he pulled his arms away.

“Molly!” He tried to keep his voice low. “There are a great many men here who would think this Christmas was the finest feast ever if you would turn your attentions to them for a moment or two.”

“I came here tonight only because of you, Will,” she cooed meaningfully, rolling her mane of hair to one side and giving him a clear view of the smooth skin of her neck. She brushed a hand over her breasts. “And I know of some Christmas apples that are feeling
very
neglected.”

William quirked a halfsmile. It was comforting to know that her efforts were doing nothing to excite his blood. “You are a lusty wench, to be sure, Molly. But I’ll not be handling those again...on any holiday.”

A pout tugged at her full lips. “But you sent word that you’d be stopping in to see me. I’ve been waiting.”

“Well, wait no longer, lass. I am a married man now, and you’ll grow old and gray waiting for me.”