X Marks the Scot (21 page)

Her heart leapt into her throat.

A little less than one year ago, Archie had met with Catesby, Percy, Dunnehl, Fawkes, and…
Cranborne
to map out an assassination of someone at Parliament House.

She placed her head in her hands. “Robert, what did ye do?”

She needed to find MacGregor. Her husband would know what to do. How could Robert plot to kill someone with Elizabeth and his new bairn by his side? How long had Archie been scheming with Dunnehl? Her chest felt like it would burst, and unanswered questions knotted inside her.

Liadain hastily made her way back. As she exited the wall and pulled it closed, she glanced around the empty chamber. In her nervousness, she grabbed her father’s portrait and hung it back upon the wall. With one last look around, she fled through the adjoining door, needing to pull herself together. She jumped when a male voice cut through her musings.

“Healer, where have ye been?”

MacGregor was naked.

His brawny chest was covered with tawny hair, and Liadain longed to touch him. Her husband relaxed on her bed with not a care in the world, his arm casually upon his raised leg, looking as though he were a gift from the gods.

He arched his eyebrows mischievously and cast an irresistibly devastating grin. “I took the liberty of placing your
gown
on the chair for ye to slip into. I will even turn my back if ye want.”

“How kind of ye,” she said, her mouth dry. “Although I am quite flattered by your efforts, there is a pressing matter that we need to discuss.”

His expression darkened. “Healer, whatever ’tis ye need to speak with me about can wait until the morrow. This eve, ye are mine,
Wife
.” His eyes were full of promises, and then he winked at her.

Something within her stirred at his open declaration of claiming her as his wife. It had been far too long. She was perfectly aware that they both desired each other. Perhaps the man was right and this was what they both needed. The letters weren’t going anywhere, and perhaps once she had a chance to discuss them with him, the answers would be clear. “Turn over,” she ordered him, casting a playful smile.

She walked over to the chair where he’d placed the wicked gown. She hoped to hell Rosalia and Aisling knew what they were doing. At this juncture, she would try anything to capture her husband’s heart.

Liadain quickly disrobed and donned the wicked attire. She ran her hands over the delicate material. What did men see in this clothing or lack thereof? “MacGregor, I cannae do it. I feel foolish.”

He rolled over onto his back and sat up slowly, his expression holding a savage inner fire. “Ye donna look foolish.” Desire pooled in her husband’s eyes as he slipped from the bed. He approached her with admiring glances, and his maleness became increasingly evident with every step he took.

Slowly, he raised his hand and fingered a lock of her hair. “Ye are beautiful, Wife.”

Liadain could not speak. She could only gaze into her husband’s eyes. She loved this side of him—the kindness, the desire, the passion, the dropping of all his ridiculous pretenses. This was the man she had grown so fond of and who had captured her heart.

She threw herself into her husband’s arms and he brought his lips down to hers. Her calm was shattered by the hunger of his kisses. His firm mouth demanded a response, one that she was more than willing to give. She was shocked at her own delight in his touch.

His lips seared a path down her neck, her shoulders. She laced her fingers in his hair, pulling him close. His gentle touch sent currents of desire through her.

She felt the thrill of her husband’s arousal, and when he moved his thigh between her legs, the glorious heat nearly caused her knees to buckle. As if he sensed her impending need, he bent down and swept her from her feet, weightless, into his arms. She placed her arms around his neck, and for a moment, he merely stood there, holding her and gazing into her eyes. There were no words to be spoken.

He carried her and gently eased her down upon the bed. He pulled back slightly and lightly ran his exploring fingers over her curves. Her skin tingled when he touched her, shivers of delight sliding sensuously up her arm.

Liadain placed her hand on his rock-hard chest and brushed the tawny hairs. His gaze slowly dropped from her eyes to her shoulders to her breasts. His hand outlined the circle of her breast.

Her gown crept up to her thighs as she moved closer to him. He pulled the fabric upward over her belly, her chest. He lowered his head and his tongue caressed her sensitive nipples, her breasts surging at the familiarity of his touch. His tongue continued to tantalize the buds, which had swollen to their fullest.

When MacGregor’s strong hand seared a path down her abdomen and onto her thigh, she thought she would come undone. He explored her thighs and then moved up, his lips again teasing a taut, dusky pink nipple.

He paused to kiss her, whispering his love for each part of her body. The stroking of his fingers sent pleasure jolts through her. Completely aroused now, she drew herself closer to him.

He paused and his body moved partially to uncover hers. “I want to see all of ye.”

She wiggled her way out of the delicate gown and tossed it to the floor. She moaned softly as he lay her back down. It was flesh against flesh, man against woman. Her breasts tingled against his hard chest.

“Ye are verra bonny, Wife,” he said, his voice low and purposefully alluring. He took her hand and guided it to himself.

Her fingers encircled him and he moved his body against her.

When he reached between her thighs, opening her legs and then inserting his finger, she gasped in sweet agony.

“Ye are so wet for me, Wife.”

Her desire for him overrode all sense of reason.

He recognized her need and entered her in a single thrust, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through her. A moan of ecstasy slipped through her lips.

The hot tide of passion raged through her. It was a raw act of possession. In one swift motion he had swept away all her doubts and fears.

Sweat beaded upon his forehead and his chest heaved. She surrendered completely to his masterful seduction, her eager response matching his. When they were roused to the peak of desire, he pulled back and gazed into her eyes. With another heavy thrust, she arched her back and couldn’t control the outcry of delight and the feeling of satisfaction her husband left within her as he spilled his seed.

Liadain looked up and her heart lurched madly. When he collapsed on top of her, she could feel his heart pounding against her own. Though she was hesitant to admit it, there was an undeniable bond between them.

He rolled onto his side and draped his arm over her. She lay panting, her chest heaving. They shared a smile and both burst out laughing because his breath was as labored as hers.

“God’s teeth, lass, are ye trying to kill me?”

She giggled in response. “I thought ye were trying to kill me.” She ran her fingernails up and down his arm. “That was verra enjoyable, Husband.”

His eyes held some unidentifiable emotion. “For me as well.” He gathered her into his arms and held her snugly against him.

Liadain had never dreamed her husband’s hands would be so warm, so gentle. She could no longer deny herself his touch and was astonished at the sense of fulfillment she felt. She allowed her thoughts to emerge from their hidden depths, and looking back, she knew MacGregor was kinder than he wanted anyone to know.

She lay in the drowsy warmth of her own bed with her husband, thinking of the days to come.

***

His wife stirred in the cradle of his arms. As Declan pulled her closer, a curl tickled his nose, along with the scent of lavender. How many times had he taken her last eve? Frankly, it did not matter. Her bottom nestled into his groin and he kissed the top of her head.

He was not sure if it had been the first, second, or perhaps even the third time he sated his needs, but when his wife gazed upon him with such a look of longing, something within him stirred. It was if the healer’s eyes spoke of hidden feelings she silently screamed to express. He realized he was not a perfect husband, but perhaps in time, she would grow to have a certain fondness for him.

He glanced down at her and smiled.

As if sensing his stare, she stretched and groaned. “Am I dead?” Her voice was raspy.

“I donna know, lass. Nae unless I am as well. Just to be certain, would ye want me to take ye again then?” he jested, nudging his nose into her hair.

She moaned. “MacGregor, after last eve, I donna think I can even move from this bed.”

“Come now, healer, ye need to practice if ye intend to keep up with me.”

Opening one eye, she smirked. “I couldnae keep up with ye if I tried.”

“Ye didnae have any trouble last eve,” he said silkily.

She slapped him in the arm and then rested her head on the top of his chest. Her fingernails lightly brushed and tickled his skin. “I enjoyed last eve with ye, Husband.”

He rubbed his hand over her back. “I am joyful to hear it.”

“MacGregor, do ye trust me?”

“Aye.” Declan did not hesitate and was not exactly sure why he answered as quickly as he did, but it was the truth. “Why do ye ask?”

His bonny wife rested her chin on his chest, met his eyes, and cast a weary smile. “Last eve, I entered your chamber while ye were in the study.” When his eyes narrowed, she continued. “I was curious if ye changed Archie’s room.”

“Wife, ye can enter my chamber any time ye wish.”

“I saw the portrait of my father and—”

“MacGregor!” someone bellowed in the hall, followed by an incessant pounding upon the bedchamber door.

Declan grunted through clenched teeth, especially for being interrupted after giving instructions he was not to be disturbed. “God’s teeth, Montgomery! Ye better have a damn good reason for—”

“A messenger comes from Glenorchy,” Montgomery paused. “’Tis Rosalia.” His words were laced with worry.

Without warning, the healer sprang from the bed and ran to the chair. Hastily, she donned her chemise and started to dress. The moment was clearly lost.

Declan climbed out of bed and grabbed his kilt from the floor. “I know I will only be in your way, but I will accompany ye to Glenorchy.”

Montgomery knocked again and Declan partially opened the door. If the captain of his guard noticed his lack of clothing, the man did not indicate it. “My wife is dressing.”

He nodded. “MacGregor, might I accompany Lady MacGregor to Glenorchy?”

When the healer’s dress bunched up in the back, she turned around and gestured for Declan’s assistance. As he stepped toward his wife, she began to speak as a warrior on the battlefield, spewing orders.

“There is nay need for ye to come along if Montgomery will escort me. Rosalia has been having bouts of sickness. If she bleeds, there will be more of a concern and I will be longer. I will send a messenger if I willnae be home. In the meantime, why donna ye spend some time getting to know your new home?”

He straightened her gown. “I would like to walk around the castle and get to know the grounds. And I havenae yet tried to use the false door in the stable. Ye’re sure ye donna mind?”

She smiled as if she already knew the answer. “I wouldnae have suggested it otherwise. Have a care in the tunnels. I donna want to come home and find I have to search for ye.”

He kissed her hand and then walked back to the door. “Ye can accompany my wife, but take another man with ye.”

Montgomery’s eyes were filled with gratitude and concern. “Ye have my thanks. I will ready the mounts and meet Lady MacGregor below stairs.”

Declan closed the door and his wife approached him. He brushed the back of his hand to her cheek in a gentle gesture. “I will wait for ye to return home, Wife.” He pulled her into the circle of his arms and then placed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

She nodded in response and then whipped her head up with a concentrated look upon her features. “MacGregor, ’tis important when I return that we discuss what I attempted to speak with ye about last eve.”

“Ye mean before I distracted ye?”

“Aye, I must make haste.” Standing on her tiptoes, his wife kissed his cheek. “I will be back soon, Husband.” She grabbed her healing supplies and tossed them into her sack. Casting one last glimpse at him, she smiled and hastily walked out the door.

***

Liadain breathed a sigh of relief when they finally arrived at Glenorchy.

Rosalia was bent over on a bench, her face concealed by her hands. Liadain dismounted. As she approached, Rosalia looked up and tears swept down her cheeks.

“I am such a daft fool,” she cried.

Liadain knelt down and rubbed Rosalia’s arm. Even though she felt Montgomery’s gaze burning into her back, at least the man had the decency to remain quiet. “Ye arenae a daft fool. What ails ye?” she asked with sympathy.

Wiping her tears, Rosalia gulped. “My apologies. Ciaran left this morn with Aiden, Aisling, and my nephew to go to the village. I was alone and I was so frightened. I couldnae keep my stomach from retching and I could barely stand. It usually passes, but when I couldnae get it to cease, I sent a messenger to Castle Campbell. I thought I was losing my bairn. My apologies that ye came for naught.”

“’Tis the first time ye are with child. If ye donna know what to expect, it can be a troubling,” Liadain soothed. “The last thing ye need is to fret over us making the journey. Ye are my sister-by-marriage. Ye are kin. I am sure ye would do the same.”

Rosalia smiled sheepishly. “Since ye came all this way, ye might as well stay for the noon meal. Ciaran should be returning in a few hours.”

We would love to stay,” said Liadain, tapping Rosalia’s leg.

Pulling herself to her feet, Rosalia locked arms with Liadain, guiding her toward the great hall with Montgomery in tow. Lowering her voice, Rosalia whispered, “I cannae apologize enough. Declan and Ciaran will more than likely want to throttle me when they find out.”

“My husband understands, and your husband loves ye. They will be relieved ye are well,” said Liadain reassuringly. “Donna think upon it too much. Women have been giving birth since the beginning of time. Ye willnae harm the babe. The sickness that plagues ye is the bairn’s way of telling ye he or she is fine. I agree ’tis verra inconvenient, but ’tis a good sign.”

Rosalia giggled in response. “Then he must be one verra healthy babe.”

As soon as they walked into the great hall, Montgomery reached out and grabbed Rosalia’s arm. “Might I have a word with ye?”

Montgomery huddled with Rosalia, and the last thing Liadain wanted to do was sit after the tedious journey. She had just reached out to pet Magaidh when a shout rang out behind her.