Highland Angel (18 page)

“Aye,” agreed Payton as he and the others all joined in the toast. “To victory, and may it be soon.”

Kirstie sat in the middle of Payton’s huge bed, dressed only in her shift, and brushed at her damp hair. The confrontation with the MacIyes had been trying, somewhat exhausting, but their success eased a lot of that. If only she could so easily rid herself of all the twinges of shame and embarrassment she felt over so openly sharing Payton’s bed. Just as she had thought she had accepted it all, the number of others who knew had greatly increased. His family did not seem to mind, the children acted as if it was all perfectly acceptable, Strong Ian and Wee Alice seemed almost pleased, even hopeful, and her own brother offered no condemnation. It seemed she was the only one concerned about it all. Perhaps it was time she just asked one of the others exactly why they accepted the arrangement so easily, especially her brother. All of Payton’s reasons why she should feel no shame made perfect sense, but she could not completely ignore the fact that he gained something he wanted when she agreed with him. And, he was certainly no stranger to the sin of adultery or lust.

“Ye are thinking on sin and penances again, arenae ye?” drawled Payton as he tossed aside the last of his clothes, sat down behind her, and took over the pleasant chore
of brushing her thick hair.

“Someone ought to,” she mumbled, wondering how the man could be so unconcerned about his own nudity. “No one else seems to be.”

“Nay so long ago ye didnae, either. At least, nay for a few hours.”

“I ken it. I am nay so sure why I keep fretting myself o’er it now. ’Tis just that, weel, now a whole new lot of people ken it. And, weel, adultery,
mmpfh
.” She briefly considered nipping the palm of the hand he had clasped over her mouth, but thought he might actually like it unless she did it hard enough to truly hurt.

“Is a sin, and, I will confess, though I am nay above using the women willing to commit it, I have little respect for most of them. Ye, however, are no adulteress.”

“I am a wedded woman,” she said as soon as he removed his hand.

“Ye may have said the vows, but the marriage was ne’er consummated, therefore ’tis invalid. I had thought that ye had decided that was so.”

“So, then I am just a wanton?”

Payton set the brush down, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her back against him. “Ye are my lover.” He traced the delicate shape of her ear with his tongue. “Ye are my comrade in arms. Ye are nay Sir Roderick’s wife, nor have ye e’er been. Ye are mine,” he said, his voice soft and husky as he kissed her neck.

“At this time, aye, I am.” She forced away the hurt caused by the knowledge that her time with Payton would end either because Roderick beat them or because Payton tired of her once they had won their battle.

As he shifted their positions on the bed so that she was sprawled beneath him, Payton decided that now was probably not a good time to tell her he had no intention of letting her go. She was still Sir Roderick’s wife, sometimes in her own mind, and definitely in the minds of too many others. Payton knew that no matter how many pretty and heartfelt words he gave her, how many promises of fidelity and forever he uttered, Kirstie would not completely believe him. He had to wait until he could make her his wife.

Kirstie shivered with a sudden rush of desire as Payton began to kiss her legs. The flare of embarrassment she had suffered when he sprawled between her legs quickly faded. She was a little astonished that she could be so enflamed by a kiss on the soft skin at the back of her knee. It was not until he kissed each hip that she realized he had pushed her shift up to her waist. Shock at how exposed she was to his gaze made her try to close her legs, but his broad shoulders prevented that attempt at modesty.

“Payton,” she cried softly in protest when he knelt, his gaze fixed upon that place she wished to shield as he stroked her thighs.

When his gaze met hers, she gasped. The desire she could read there was almost hot enough to burn away the last shreds of her modesty. To see that she could stir this man to such passion could easily make her vain.

“Ye must ne’er try to hide such beauty from me,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her hard and fast.

She was thinking of protesting such a meager kiss when he tugged her shift off and tossed it aside. He kissed, caressed, and even licked his way from her throat to her breasts. When he drew the taut, aching tip of one breast into his mouth, Kirstie stroked his back and shoulders, holding him close.

Kirstie murmured her disappointment when he began to move his kisses to other
parts of her heated body. She was just thinking that it was easy to cast aside all modesty when he caressed her, when he touched his lips to the soft curls shielding her woman’s flesh. Even she could hear that her trembling protests were weak, her voice thick with desire. She liked this, yet was shocked that she did. Her thoughts on her own inexplicable confusion were completely scattered when he stroked her with his tongue. She could be shocked and embarrassed later, she decided, as she twined her fingers in his hair to hold him close while she offered herself up for his stunningly intimate kiss.

As she felt herself draw ever nearer to that sweet abyss passion always sent her tumbling into, Kirstie struggled to get Payton to join with her, but he ignored her demands and then her pleas. He drove her to the heights with his mouth. Her body was still shaking and tingling from the strength of her release when Payton propped her legs up against his shoulders and joined their bodies with such force she knew she would have been thrown up against the headboard if he had not had a firm grip on her.

For one brief moment, she saw him clearly. The look of intense, nearly feral passion upon his beautiful face should have alarmed her, but instead, it caused her desire to start climbing again, to start scrambling back up those blinding heights she had only just hurled herself down. His gaze was fixed intently upon the place where their bodies were joined as he thrust in and out with a fury and growing speed that could well leave her feeling a little bruised in the morning. One glance was almost more than she could bear, and, closing her eyes, she allowed her body to rule her. He placed one hand down on the mattress as his body shuddered, the warmth of his seed spilling inside of her only intensifying her own bliss. When he collapsed against her, she forced her weak, trembling arms around him, holding him close as they both struggled to recover their wits and strength. She liked the way he remained joined with her as they both tried to grasp some calm and rationality, so she wrapped her arms and legs around him more securely, holding him as close as possible.

“’Tis nay wonder women flock to your bed,” she said when she finally regained enough sense to speak.

Kirstie forcefully pushed aside the thought of how many women there were out there who had shared this bliss with him. The moment she had entered his room that first night, she had known she was about to join the ranks of far too many women. It was foolish to torment herself with thoughts of all the other women who had held him close like this. He made a noise that was an even blend of curse and laughter, and she welcomed the interruption of her own painful thoughts.

“Ah, lass, I have ne’er done that before,” he said, shifting a little to resettle himself more securely inside of her as he felt himself begin to harden again.

“Truly?” She was somewhat astonished when his almost idle caress of her breast caused a renewed quickening low in her belly.

“I suppose I should be flattered ye thought me experienced in that sort of loving. Nay, I sometimes gave a rare, fleeting kiss to speed the wench toward my goal, toward satisfying my wants and needs, but nay more than that. They were women I but borrowed, used for a wee while, and nay more. Ah, but ye are mine, have only e’er been mine. No other mon has kenned the sweetness of ye and I have a need to ken the fullness of it.” He propped himself up on his forearms and gave her a deep, stirring kiss. “And, ye are verra sweet indeed, my dark beauty. Like the richest, rarest honey. Sweet and warm and definitely tasting like more.” He began to move, measured, penetrating thrusts
intended to gently restir that fierce passion she gave so freely.

She could feel the sting of a fierce blush upon her cheeks, but his words stirred her. As she felt her desire revived by his gentle caresses and almost idle cadence, she stroked the back of his strong legs with her feet and decided to cast aside all worry about sin. She had done it before and it should not matter that his cousin or her brother now knew about them. According to all the rules of the church and society, she became a sinner the moment she went to his bed, the moment she even thought about doing so. Fretting over the matter would not change that, would only sour all they could share, as would worrying over who might know about it. She acted out of love and there was no changing that, either. There was also the ever-present shadow of Roderick looming over them. Soon he would find himself disowned, dispossessed, and scorned. That would enrage him, make him rabid in his need for revenge, and he would blame her for it all. From the moment he had thrown her in the river, her life had been in danger. It was past time to cease fretting over how she spent what few peaceful hours she had. There was always the chance that she might not have many left.

As she peered out the window of the room the children slept in, Callum on one side of her and Michael on the other, Kirstie wondered just how big Payton’s family was. It had been a week since the MacIyes had arrived and three days after that the first of a horde of Murray kinsmen had begun to arrive. Payton was very particular about introducing her to each and every one, but she was not sure why. Most seemed very surprised to find her in his home and she began to think the rumor that he let no women in this house was actually true. Most stayed only long enough to find out what Roderick looked like, what men were with him, and where they should look for the man.

Roderick was in hiding. The MacIyes had not only disowned him, they had taken back his lands, his source of wealth, and most of his small army of men. He was now a “broken man.” His clan had also cast him out swiftly, openly, and completely. As suspected, the moment they had done so, all the dark rumors about Roderick were seen as true and he was utterly shunned. Several men who either suspected or now knew he had defiled their sons were also hunting him, eager to make him pay for an insult they had no real wish to discuss, but which everyone now suspected.

It was somewhat amusing, and she and Gillyanne had certainly giggled over it often enough, but Payton was now seen as a wondrous hero, a near saint of a man who had risked his good and honorable name for the sake of children. There was certainly some truth to it all, yet it was spoken of in such ridiculously flowery terms it invited ridicule. It was obvious she and Gillyanne were not the only ones who thought so as there had been several tussles amongst Payton and the seemingly never-ending flow of cousins and brothers. Connor also made the occasional subtle jest, as did Ian.

“Payton has a verra big family,” said Callum, sounding a little envious.

“They arenae all blood kin,” said Michael. “’Tis rather fine that that doesnae seem to make any difference, though.” Michael looked at Kirstie. “’Tis why ye chose him, isnae it? Ye kenned his family would all be quick to help him.”

Kirstie nodded. “One of the reasons. I had heard that the family was large and that a strong bond existed e’en amongst the most distant. I will confess, though, that I hadnae realized it would be like this. Nay wonder the MacIyes were hesitant to act upon Roderick’s claims. They kenned the trouble that would descend upon them.”

“As it is now descending upon Roderick. The bastard willnae be able to find a hole dark enough or deep enough to hide in.”

“Nay. It willnae be long now e’er it is over. I but pray nothing bad happens to us or any of the ones aiding us.”

“Ah, there ye are,” said Gillyanne as she peered into the room, then hurried over to them. “Payton wants ye to join him in his ledger room, Kirstie.”

“Weel, at least I can be fair sure I am nay about to be lectured again,” Kirstie said and smiled when Gillyanne laughed.

“And he wants to see ye as weel, Callum,” Gilly said.

Callum frowned. “He wants me to meet some of his kinsmen? Me alone, I mean?”

“Aye. Some of the MacMillans.” Gillyanne cast a quick, telling look at Kirstie, then hugged Callum. “Ah, that is good, my braw laddie. Fight those dark, ugly feelings. Dinnae let that bastard steal away the joy of a friend’s touch or a truly loving embrace. If ye turn from such things, ye will ne’er feel aught but the cold.” She straightened up, smiled at everyone, and headed out the door. “Dinnae be too long. Why dinnae ye come
with me, Michael.”

As soon as she and Michael were gone, Callum looked at Kirstie. “She is always doing that.”

“Doing what?” asked Kirstie as she nudged him toward the door.

“Hugging me and saying those odd things. ’Tis as if she can see right into a person’s heart. I ken there are bad feelings inside me, but I keep them there. I hide them, ye ken, because I dinnae like them.”

“But, Lady Gillyanne can see them?”

“Aye, and she kens I want them gone. Do ye think she is a witch?”

“Och, nay,” she said as they made their way down the narrow stone stairs. “She just, weel, kens things, kens a person’s feelings. Nay all of them and nay all the time. Does it trouble ye? Do ye wish me to speak to her?”

“Nay. Weel, it does trouble me a wee bit, but I think that may be good for me. I dinnae like these feelings, but I am nay getting rid of them, am I? Just hiding them. When she says those things, I think on them for a wee while, and I think some of the bad feelings are getting weaker.” He shrugged. “Mayhap ’tis just because she sees them and talks about them.”

“Sometimes looking straight at such feelings and having someone who understands, someone ye can speak to, can help. And, mayhap she does it so that, when she has to go home, ye will be able to work on making those bad feelings go away all by yourself.” She gently stroked his soft, bright hair as they paused before the heavy door to Payton’s ledger room. “Ye havenae been free and safe for verra long, Callum. Wounds take time to heal, and a heart’s wounds can take the longest. And, the sad thing is that ye will mostly have to heal yourself. People who care about ye can help if ye let them, and I think ye ken that ye now have a lot of people who care about ye. Aye?” She smiled when he nodded. “Good. When those dark feelings try to take hold, ye remember that. Always remember that.”

“I will.”

“Trust me, kenning that, believing that truth, is the best medicine. Now, best we see what his grand lairdship wants.” She smiled again when he laughed and they walked into Payton’s ledger room.

A gasp caught her attention even as she shut the door behind them. A tall, handsome, auburn-haired man was very pale. He clutched the back of a chair as if he needed the support to remain standing. She glanced at the other two guests with Payton and Ian, quickly recognized the boy as the one she had mistaken for Callum, and recalled Payton saying he was his cousin Uven. They truly did look almost exactly alike. The other man in the room was also handsome, slightly older than the other two, and his hair was a much darker red. He wavered between concern for the man who looked so pale and a delight which appeared whenever he looked at Callum.

Kirstie felt a slight twitch at her skirts and looked at Callum. He was pale and he was staring at the boy Uven as if he had seen a ghost, a look Uven was returning in kind. She realized he was clasping her skirts in one hand so she reached down to take that hand in hers. Callum clutched her hand, holding on tightly even as Payton walked over to them and led them to a seat.

“Gentlemen, this is Lady Kirstie MacIye and this handsome boy is Callum,” said Payton as he poured the pale man a large tankard of wine. “Kirstie, Callum, allow me to
introduce Sir Bryan MacMillan, Uven MacMillan, and Sir Euan MacMillan.” Each one bowed slightly as his name was said; then Payton crouched by Callum, who sat hard up against Kirstie. “Do ye see it, lad?”

“Uven looks like me,” Callum said. “He isnae my brother, is he?”

“Nay, but I strongly suspect he is your cousin.” As he rose to his feet, Payton looked at Sir Euan. “Is he?”

Sir Euan nodded, took a long drink of wine, and sank down into the seat he had been clinging to. “Aye, he is.” He looked at Payton. “When I was told about the boy, all the facts I sought were right. The right mother, the right town, the right time, the right name. Bryan added to it all by discovering I had been lied to, that the woman and child hadnae died upon a childbed. Yet, it was difficult to believe.” He looked at Callum. “But, Jesu, he is Innes to the bone.”

“Who was Innes?” asked Callum, curiosity easing his fear enough for him to speak calmly and clearly.

“Your father,” replied Sir Euan. “Your mother was—”

“Joan, the swineherd’s youngest daughter.” Callum shrugged when Kirstie and Payton both stared at him in surprise. “I always kenned who my mither was, but she died when I was three, near four, years old.”

“I was told she died bearing a child, taking that child to the grave with her.”

“Nay. She got a fever and went to her father’s house. Thinking she was dying, she wanted him to care for me, but he spit on us. Told us he wouldnae waste the slop he fed his pigs on such a whore and her bastard. He tossed us off his wee scrap of land and my mither was near dead by the time we reached her sister’s home. She didnae want us, either. I remember my mither saying she might shame her sister into caring for me if she died right on her hearthstone. She did. It didnae. When the cart took my mither’s body away, I followed it, and I marked where she was buried so I could find her place again.”

“And then what did ye do?”

“Lived about the town for a wee while. Then, when I was about seven, I was taken to Thanescarr.”

“So, ye ken what your birthday is?”

“Aye. The fifteenth day of May, 1455. Mither told me it was exactly a week before old Father James died. I was the last bairn he christened. It helped me remember because I just had to ask someone how long ago it was that Father James died.”

“That, too, fits. The swineherd told me ye and your mother were dead. I didnae like the look of the mon, but I couldnae think of any reason why he should lie to me. ’Twas Bryan who tracked down the sister and finally got the truth. They just left ye in the streets?”

Callum nodded. “They didnae want a bastard. So, ye ken who my father was?”

“Aye. Sir Innes MacMillan. He came home at summer’s end twelve years ago, intending to tell his father about a lass he meant to have to wife. Sadly, he was attacked by thieves and left for dead. He dragged himself home, but ’twas clear to all that he was dying. Fevered though he was, he struggled to tell us about your mother. I swore I would find her and be certain she was cared for. That gave him peace, but it proved a promise I couldnae keep. Winter set in hard and ’twas nearly a year ere I could set out to find Innes’s Joan. It was a hard blow to hear that she had died, e’en harder to ken that Innes’s child had died with her. Innes was the only surviving child of Sir Gavin MacMillan of
Whyte mont and the mon was heartbroken when I had to bring him the news. But, now, I can tell him Innes’s child lives, that Innes left a son.”

“A bastard.”

“Ah, nay. ’Twas a handfast marriage, true, but ye were born within the year. I have papers, ye ken. A witnessed handfast agreement, and now proof of when ye were born and christened. Nay, it may nay be as good as a priest-blessed marriage to some, but ye arenae a bastard. And, it wouldnae matter if ye were. Sir Gavin certainly wouldnae care.”

“Are ye saying ye wish him to go to Whytemont, to Sir Gavin?” asked Payton.

“Weel, aye. He is Sir Gavin’s heir,” replied Sir Euan.

Payton looked at Callum and saw the fear, the uncertainty, in the boy’s eyes. “What do ye say, Callum?”

“I,” he began, and looked from Payton to Kirstie and back again, “but, there are bad things about me, there are—”

“Nay, lad,” said Sir Euan. “There are bad things about Sir Roderick, nay about ye. Ye were a child, a child with no one to stand for him, may God forgive us. And, though ye may take insult o’er this, the truth is that ye are still a child. Dinnae let what happened hold ye back from reaching out for what is rightfully yours. I ken the tale, as does Sir Bryan, and so will Sir Gavin, but we will tell no one else if that is how ye wish it. The word about Sir Roderick has spread far and wide already, however, so I cannae promise it will all remain some great secret. Few things do.”

Callum nodded. “I ken it, It doesnae matter so verra much, nay if it puts an end to that mon.”

“And we dinnae need to go now. I wish to see the end of this, as weel. So, ye have time to think on it. If ye are still uneasy later, then Sir Gavin would be more than willing to come here. Ye can take it as slowly as ye wish.”

Kirstie felt Callum immediately relax. She was so happy for the boy, she felt like crying. He was unsure now, undoubtedly afraid of being taken from the odd family that had developed in Payton’s home, but he would soon accept his good fortune. He just needed time and she was pleased that the MacMillans understood that. When she caught him studying Uven as hard as that boy was studying him, she felt even more hopeful.

“So, ye are my cousin?” he asked Uven.

“Aye. My grandmither and yours were sisters,” Uven replied. “I think that is why we look so much alike.” Uven moved closer. “Where did ye get that big knife?”

“I got this one when I first came here.” Callum pulled a knife from his right sleeve. “Ian gave me this one.” He pulled a knife from his right boot. “Payton gave me this one. This one in my left boot is from Wee Alice, Ian’s wife. Malkie gave me the one in my left sleeve. And, see this one strapped inside my shirt? Donald gave me that one. And look at this one on this side with the sheath inside the waist of my breeches. Angus gave me that one.”

“Can ye use them?” asked Uven, the challenge clear in his voice.

“Aye. I can show ye, if ye like.” Callum stood up, then frowned and looked at the men. “Oh.”

“Go on, lads.” Ian stood up and started to herd the two boys toward the door. “I will come along to keep an eye on things, aye?”

Callum stopped just as Ian opened the door and looked back at Sir Euan. “I would have to live with him, aye?”

“Aye,” replied Sir Euan. “That doesnae mean ye cannae go where ye wish when ye wish, however.”

“I will think on that, too, then.” Callum looked at Uven. “Come on, then. Mayhap we can find that big-nosed boy, too.”

The moment the door shut behind Ian and the two boys, Kirstie looked at Payton. “Ye gave him a knife?”

Payton shrugged. “I didnae ken he had so many.”

“It seems I am the only one who hasnae given him a knife. And, big-nosed boy? He is still calling Simon names, isnae he?”

“Ah, weel, he isnae calling him a traitor or a coward anymore.” He almost smiled when she groaned. “Leave it be for now, love. Simon and Callum are evenly matched in size and strength, but Simon is a year or more older than Callum. I think they are, weel, testing each other to see who will be the head of the pack.”

Kirstie rolled her eyes, then grew serious again as she looked at Sir Euan. “I ken ye were hoping Callum would just come along with ye,” she began.