Captured by a Laird (16 page)

That seemed to satisfy her.
Christ
.

“Anything else ye wish to ask me?” he said.

She ran her tongue over her lip, that nervous gesture of hers that made him forget for a moment why he was annoyed.

“What did I do to upset ye when we were speaking with Cochburn last night?” she asked.

“Ye didn’t upset me,” he said. “I don’t get upset.”

She arched an eyebrow.

“I merely suggested ye leave so that Cochburn and I could finish our business.”

He had suggested it strongly, but what was wrong with that? He was the laird, for God’s sake. He did not owe her an explanation. But then he remembered how he’d made her look like a puppy that had been kicked last night and decided to explain himself anyway.

“Ye spoke well of my enemy, D’Orsey,” he said.

“The charming French knight?” she asked. “What could ye have against him?”

“He holds my father’s widow hostage.”

Alison drew her brows together. “You’re speaking of Will and Robbie’s mother?”

“Aye,” he said. “My father’s second wife.”

“I assumed she was at Hume Castle,” she murmured, then she looked up sharply. “Surely ye don’t fear D’Orsey will harm her?”

“Not permitting her to return home to grieve for her dead husband with her family is harming her,” he said. “And not permitting her to comfort her young sons is harming them.”

Alison was quiet for a long while, and David’s thoughts turned to his stepmother, whose delicate health worried him. His duty to free her weighed heavily on him.

“Ach, the poor lads. I suppose that is one of the reasons Robbie seems so troubled,” Alison said, shaking her head. “He’s the other subject I wished to discuss with ye.”

“My brother?” Good God, why?

“He asked me to speak to ye on his behalf.”

Why would his brother confide in Alison? Robbie hardly knew her. If his brother had something to say to him, he could damn well say it himself. All the same, David kept silent and waited for her to tell him what this was about.

“Robbie wants ye to treat him like a man—which, of course, he isn’t,” she said. “I was relieved when he told me that ye refuse to take him…wherever it is that ye go.”

He almost smiled. Robbie had made a mistake in choosing Alison as his emissary.

“In truth, I cannot keep him from the fighting and raiding much longer,” David said. “Robbie will be a man soon.”

“Be that as it may,” she said in a tone that suggested she disagreed, “I hate to see him so unhappy. And he’s a bit hard on Will.”

“If Robbie’s done something he ought not, tell me and I’ll punish him.”

“He’s done nothing,” she said a mite too quickly. “But I am worried about him.”

“Robbie is right that Will acts in ways that invites jests from some of the young warriors.” He leaned on his elbows and ran his hands through his hair. “I fear I’ve been too soft on him.”

David was not accustomed to discussing his problems—especially problems involving his brothers—with anyone. But Alison was not going to mock the lads, so he saw no harm in it. And hard as it was to admit, he could use some advice.

“Will is just fine as he is,” Alison said with a flash of fire in her eyes.

He liked that she defended his brother, though she obviously did not know a damned thing about what it would take for a lad to gain respect from the men.

“Ye needn’t worry about Will,” she said. “He’s kind, but he’s not weak. That lad has a mind of his own.”

That was true enough. “All the same, I can’t have my brother being ridiculed. In the long run, it will do both him and the clan harm.”

“I have an idea...” She looked up at him from beneath her lashes as if waiting for him to object. When he didn’t, she said, “I understand Robbie has become rather good with a sword.”

“He has,” David agreed, though he had no notion why she was mentioning that now.

“Why not give him the task of training Will?” she asked.

“I should train Will, just as I’ve trained Robbie.”

All the experienced warriors helped train the younger ones, but his brothers’ training merited his personal attention. One day they would fight at his side and play important roles in the clan. He owed it to them and to the clan to see that they became the most skilled and cunning warriors they could be.

“I’ve been preoccupied with other matters, but that’s no excuse.” He had spent countless hours training Robbie, and Will deserved no less.

“Ye weren’t laird when ye trained Robbie,” she said. “When Will is older and more skilled, he’ll need your instruction. But surely he could learn a great deal from Robbie now.”

The more he thought about it, the more David saw the merit in Alison’s suggestion. Will would gain warrior skills, and Robbie would feel recognized for his.

“Lord knows I don’t know what else to do with them,” he said, rubbing his face. “’Tis worth a try.”

Alison blessed him with a smile that lit up her eyes and made his stomach flip. Odd, how she seemed to reward him when he showed weakness. Ach, women.

Regardless, a clever warrior took advantage of an opening when he saw one. With one sweep of his arm, he pulled her onto his lap. Her eyes went wide, but when he was careful to do nothing more to alarm her, she stayed put. Her soft bottom felt good resting on his thigh. He would content himself with that for the moment.

She ran her tongue over her lip again, and he nearly forgot his resolve to wait to kiss her.

“I was surprised Cochburn was gone before breakfast,” she said. “That was a short visit.”

“Hmmph.” She obviously wanted to know what brought Cochburn to the castle, but David saw no good reason to share Cochburn’s plans with her—and plenty of reason not to.

“Odd, his coming and going in the night,” she said, though she must have read David’s silence. “What did he want?”

Why did she persist? Had she found a means to send word of his activities to her brothers? Or worse, was she spying for the Blackadders? Perhaps she only pretended to share his contempt for her former husband and his kin. True, the women servants treated her with disdain, but David had seen how the men looked at her. With little effort, she could have any one of them eating out of her palm.

“What is your interest in Cochburn?” he asked, keeping his tone even.

“I’m merely curious,” she said, which told him precisely nothing.

“We’ve more pressing matters than Cochburn to discuss…” He cupped the back of her neck and dropped his gaze to her mouth. “…or not discuss.”

He felt her giving in to the powerful pull of the attraction between them as he leaned in.

“But I want to be the sort of wife who is a good helpmate to her husband.” She spoke in a husky voice and her eyes were drifting closed.

“I’m certain ye can be verra helpful in many ways that we’ll both find exciting,” he murmured when his lips were nearly touching hers, “but ye needn’t concern yourself with Cochburn.”

He was so close that he could almost taste her kiss when she shoved her hands against his chest and jerked away. Before he knew it, she had slid off his lap and was halfway out the door.

Damn. What happened?

He was still staring after her long after she slammed the door.

***

Alison was so upset that she kicked the door after she slammed it. She had hoped for a very different marriage, but apparently Wedderburn wished to keep her in the dark as much as Blackadder had. Would she be reduced to listening at doors and bribing servants to have any notion of what dangerous schemes he was involved in?

Ach, it was so unfair. If a man committed treasonous acts, his wife and family suffered for it. Lands were forfeited, reputations tarnished. No one knew that better than a Douglas.

And she wanted to be more to her new husband than a convenient bedmate. He had pretended to listen to her advice about his brothers, but then he deliberately attempted to divert her from the subject of Cochburn—and very nearly succeeded.

As she marched down the stairs, she came to a decision. He said he would wait until she was willing. Well, she would use what little power she had and not give herself easily to David Hume, Laird of Wedderburn. He was a confusing man, alternately intimidating and seductive. Regardless of which side he showed her, she would not give in until he gave her what she wanted.

She did not fool herself that it would be easy. When he put his mind to seduction, he was hard to resist. But no matter how much she thrilled to his touches and kisses, she would make him wait until she was not just another woman to him, not just a body he had a right to use. He could take her against her will if he chose.

But, damn it, if he wanted her willing, David would know who she was when he was inside her. It would
matter
to him who she was.

He would want
her
.

CHAPTER 19

Alison regretted her display of anger, fearing what her punishment would be. If she had slammed the door and walked out on Blackadder like that, he would have chased her down and pulled her back by her hair.

She shook her head to clear it—she would not permit herself to spend one more moment recalling the despicable things Blackadder had done to her. If God was just, he would burn like his bed.

To avoid Wedderburn, she spent most of the afternoon in the kitchens discussing menus and checking food stores with the cook, who had grown less surly now that their supplies could be replenished.

“You’ve outdone yourself with this stew,” she said, after taking a taste from the spoon he held out.

His permanent frown eased into what was probably a smile for him. Winning him over was not as difficult as she thought, and she regretted not trying harder sooner. Blackadder had made such a mouse of her.

“We’ve plenty of beef, thanks to these Humes,” the cook said with a nod of approval.

Alison knew better than to ask where the beef had come from. One did not ask that in the Borders, where cattle thieving was a point of pride.

The cook turned to shout another order at one of the kitchen maids. “Fetch more onions, ye lazy lass.”

The kitchen was growing busier, with pots bubbling and the kitchen maids scurrying in preparation for the evening meal. Alison was reluctant to leave the safety of the undercroft, but she could see she was getting in the way.

“I’ll leave ye to your work,” she told the cook.

Hoping to avoid Wedderburn a little longer, she passed through the hall with her head down and hurried up the stairs. She tiptoed past their bedchamber door and continued up the wheeled stairs to the Tower Room to find her daughters. As she neared the top, she heard the rumble of a deep voice intermingled with her daughters’ giggles. She paused outside the partially open door to listen.

“Baaa, baaa.”

Who was that bleating like a sheep? The sound was followed by another burst of giggles.

“Moooo.”

She opened the door and was stunned to find the infamous Beast of Wedderburn sitting on the floor with her daughters playing with carved wooden animals. Shy Margaret sat on the laird’s lap petting a wooden pig with her finger while Beatrix bounced a wooden horse across the floor. All three looked up at Alison at once.

“Look what David made for us!” Beatrix bounded over to her, holding out the carved horse for her inspection.

“Ye cannot call the laird by his Christian name,” Alison quickly chastised her daughter.

“I told them to.” David rubbed the top of Beatrix’s head with his knuckles, making her squeal with laughter. “Ach, this one’s a wee rascal, aren’t ye?”

Confused, Alison dropped her gaze and examined the carving Beatrix had handed her.

“’Tis beautifully made,” she said as she ran her fingertip over the smooth wood. It was simple and yet captured the essence of the animal.

Wedderburn was a complex man, full of contradictions. He was a fierce Border laird who struck terror in the hearts of his enemies—and probably his friends as well. And yet here he was playing with her children, making silly animal noises. He was lethal with a sword and made beautifully carved toys with a small blade.

“Make the piggy sound again,” Margaret said, leaning against his shoulder. “P-l-e-a-s-e.”

Alison felt a rush of warmth toward him as he made an awful snorting sound that sent the girls into gales of laughter.

She was struck by the realization that Beatrix and Margaret had never been at ease around their father. It was not just that they had no joyful moments like this with him, but that they had sought to avoid his notice. With the instinct of small animals, they had hidden in the corners and shadows whenever he entered a room.

Alison thought she had protected them from seeing the evil in their father, but she had failed.

David stood and brushed the stray shavings from his breeks to cries of “Don’t go! Please!”

“I must speak with your mother now,” he told the girls. “You two behave yourselves.”

Both girls ceased their begging and gave him solemn nods.

Alison’s eyes stung as she watched him lift Margaret over his head, and her daughter’s peal of laughter filled the room. No matter what evil acts Wedderburn might be guilty of committing, a man who showed such kindness to her young daughters had much good in him too.

“I can see that you’re a verra fine mother,” he said, taking her arm as they descended the stairs. “Beatrix and Margaret are remarkable lasses.”

Nothing could have touched her more deeply, and she felt herself blush with pleasure. Her resolve to resist him was weakening by the moment. Worse, she was beginning to fear that guarding her heart could prove to be an even greater challenge than resisting his passion.

Ach, he was a dangerous man.

***

As soon as David had Alison inside their bedchamber, he kissed her slowly and thoroughly. He wanted to see that look again—the one she’d had on her face when he looked up from playing with her daughters to find her standing in the doorway. Her expression had been soft and held no trace of fear or resentment.

He was gratified when she kissed him back. Her fingers gripped his tunic, and she rose on her toes to meet him. Without lifting his lips from hers, he felt for the pins holding her head covering.