Highland Angel (7 page)

“It hasnae happened before,” he drawled and almost laughed at her look of outrage. “Ye want to say aye, lass,” he said and kissed her. “Say aye,” he murmured against her throat.

“I cannae.” She trembled at the feel of his warm lips against the rapid pulse in her throat. “I am a wedded woman.”

“Ye are an unbedded widow.”

Payton kept her distracted with kisses as he unlaced her tunic, then slid his hand inside it to cup her breast. It fit his hand perfectly. The way she gasped softly and arched slightly made him ache for more.

“Why do ye press me so?”

“Because I ache for ye. Ye are a passionate woman, Kirstie, and I want to revel in that.”

“Go revel in one of your other women,” she gasped when he brushed a kiss over the soft swell of her breast.

“Dinnae want another one.” He moved against her as he brushed his thumb over the hard tip of her breast.

“Weel, ye cannae have this one.”

For a brief moment she tried to resist his kiss, but, with a sigh, gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck. This kiss was different from the others. It was more of a demand, a possessive urgency, than a seduction. She felt dazed yet vibrantly alive when he ended it. When he moved against her, his body acting out the possession he demanded of her, she could not fully stifle a moan. She clutched at his tunic and met his gaze.

“Aye, I can,” he said. “I will. Your nay was merely troublesome ere ye tried to martyr yourself. Now ’tis nearly a sin. Ye tried to steal away something I crave ere I could e’en have a taste.”

“Whether or not I would survive to warm your bed wasnae something I gave much thought to.” It was difficult to sound firm, even derisive, when one’s voice was husky with desire, she decided. It was no wonder the man ignored her words.

“Ye want this as much as I do, my wee Shadow,” he murmured. “Ye tremble with need.”

“’Tis fright.” His chuckle warmed her throat and the rhythmic press of his erection made her feel agitated, needy.

“Ah, lass, ye want this. Right now ye are thinking on how it would be if we were skin to skin.”

“Nay!” She wondered how he knew what thoughts were in her head.

“I ache to see your beauty unclothed, to taste your fine skin. I want to bury myself deep inside your heat,” he said softly as he pressed his cheek against hers. “Slow and deep.” He grasped her backside in his hands, holding her close as he spoke. “At first. Aye, then fast, fast and fierce. Ye can feel how it would be, can ye not, lass? Aye, ye can. Your body can, too. I can feel your woman’s heat against me. Ah, lass, let me in. Let me show ye paradise.”

He moved back a little even as he devoured her mouth, his tongue imitating all he said their bodies would do. For a moment, she thought he was about to put a stop to this attempt at seducing her, but then she felt his fingers slide inside her hose. If not for the strong arm he had wrapped around her, Kirstie knew she would have collapsed when he stroked her between her legs. Although a part of her, the one panting and clutching at Payton, wanted to shove him down onto the floor and ravish him, another part of her, a sensible, calmer part, was alarmed by the ferocity of the feelings his intimate caress roused in her.

“Ye are so hot, so hot and wet, Kirstie,” he said, his voice deep and seductive.

When she realized she was moving against his hand, the part of her which was frightened and shocked won out over the wanton side of her. With a soft curse, she pulled free of him. Kirstie started toward the door on legs that felt alarmingly unsteady and hastily fixed her disordered clothing. When she reached the door and grasped the latch, she looked back at him. The taut, hungry look upon his beautiful face almost drew her back into his arms.

“Ye, sir, are a pestilence,” she snapped and fled, nearly running into Ian on her way out.

“That woman is determined to cripple me,” said Payton as he quickly poured himself a tankard of wine, praying a few hearty drinks would drown the need twisting up his insides. He looked back at Ian, saw the man open his mouth, and quickly said, “I am in no mood for your teasing. One remark about how I may be losing my charm with my advancing age and I willnae be responsible for what I do next.” He gulped down the wine and refilled his tankard.

“Mayhap the lass doesnae want ye,” said Ian.

“She does. Mayhap e’en as much as I want her.”

“She is a maiden and a woman who believes in vows given, I think, nay matter who they were given to.”

“I ken it.”

“Then why dinnae ye leave her be?” Ian asked as he sat down.

“I cannae,” Payton snapped, then sighed and dragged his fingers through his hair. “I think I have been hard for her since I first saw her in the light. I swear, I just hear her footsteps and my rod is on alert, trying to sniff her out. I wake up in the night, asweat and aching, and have to fight to stop myself from going to her room, getting into that bed with her, and ignoring her nay until it becomes a verra loud aye.”

“Ah, nay, that wouldnae be good. She is nay one of your women.”

“I ken it.”

Ian stretched his legs out, stared at his boots for a moment, then looked back at
Payton. “So, if ye do get her into your bed, what will ye do afterward?”

“Have her again.” He ignored Ian’s brief look of disgust and sat down. “I dinnae ken. Mayhap after I have rutted myself blind with her for a fortnight or two, I can once again start thinking like the sharp-witted fellow I always thought I was.” He smiled faintly when Ian laughed. “I think I will see if it, weel, fades, if it is all just some brief madness. The moment ’tis kenned that she has stayed here with me, ’twill be thought that we were lovers, so I cannae save her from that by leaving her be. And, since she has been wed for five years, no one will e’er think I seduced a maiden. So, unfair or e’en unkind it may be, but I will make no decision on a future until I ken exactly what ails me.”

“That may be for the best, mayhap e’en the kindest way.” Ian fetched himself a drink of wine. “Do ye think she really would have killed that bastard today?” he asked as he sat down again.

“Nay,” replied Payton. “She was already changing her mind, moving toward the door. She saw Uven. Thought it was Callum.”

“Did ye tell her why the lads look like twins?”

“As little as I ken, aye. She willnae say anything. Have ye discovered anything?”

“His mither’s name was Joan. She was the swineherd’s youngest daughter. The mon still lives. I plan on speaking to him soon. Need to ready myself as I may have to control the urge to pound him into the muck. Ye see, he tossed the poor lass out soon as he kenned she was carrying.” He nodded when Payton cursed. “Most think he kenned exactly who Callum was.”

“The bastard! How could any mon turn his back on his own blood like that?”

“’Tis certainly a branch of the family tree Callum doesnae need to be told about.”

“Nay, he doesnae. There is a chance he already kens it, but I willnae put it to the test. Let me ken when ye have found out more,” Payton said as he stood up. “I will see if Sir Bryan kens a Joan, the swineherd’s daughter, when I am at the castle on the morrow. It has been a long day and, if the past fortnight is any indication, I forsee a verra long night. Good sleep,” he added on a sigh as he left Ian and went to seek out his still painfully empty bed.

Kirstie tightly gripped her covers as she heard Payton’s footsteps hesitate briefly outside of her bedchamber door, then continue on to his own room. That she could recognize the sound of his footsteps irritated her. She did not want to be that aware of him. She could not be sure if she clutched her bedcovers to hold herself back from going to him or in anticipation of his entering her room, and that annoyed her as well.

The man truly was a pestilence. He left her so hot and agitated her night shift and the bedcovers felt oppressive. Her nipples were hard and they ached. She hardly dared breathe, for it caused the soft linen of her shift to move against her and she kept being reminded of his touch. Worse, she could still feel his hand between her legs, still wanted it there. Every word he had said seemed locked into her mind, refusing to be banished.

She closed her eyes and forced herself to think of every good, sound reason why she had to hold firm to her chastity, had to resist the temptation of the man. With each kiss, each caress, that grew more difficult. Kirstie was infuriated by her own weakness.

Behind her eyelids she could still see him, still see the desire on his beautiful face. In her mind she could hear his rich, deep voice promising to show her paradise. She cursed. It was going to be a very, very long night.

Callum and Moira looked up as Kirstie entered the room where the children slept. They sat cross-legged on the bed where a rapidly improving Robbie sat propped up by several fat pillows. She smiled at the children as she set down a tray of honey-sweetened oat-cakes and cool cider she had brought for them.

“Wheesht, lad,” she said to Robbie, “if ye can look this good after only four days, ye will soon be out of that bed.”

“I wanted to get out of bed today, but Wee Alice told me I couldnae,” said Robbie.

The hint of sulkiness in his voice delighted Kirstie. She considered it a sure sign that he was healing. He sounded exactly like any other little boy stuck in a sick bed.

“’Tis best to heed what Wee Alice says, lad. Now, eat what she has sent ye. Ye need to put some fat on those bones. David, Alan, and William assure me that these are the best oatcakes they have e’er tasted.”

“They are in the kitchens with Wee Alice again, arenae they?” Callum said between bites of an oatcake.

“Aye. They like her,” replied Kirstie.

“I think they like her a lot. Her and Strong Ian.”

“Weel, they are verra good people.”

“Oh, aye. Strong Ian isnae teaching them how to fight, though. They are still too wee for that.”

“Aye. ’Twill be a few years yet ere they can be taught the monly art of fighting.”

Kirstie almost smiled when Callum replied with a solemn nod. He was jealous of his position as Ian’s student. Every morning he and Ian went down into the surprisingly spacious cellars of the house to practice fighting. As she had watched Callum grow less wary, less angry at the whole world, she had lost her uneasiness about that training. She had a suspicion that there had been a few man-to-man talks as well, talks undoubtedly aimed at taking away his guilt and shame. Kirstie sensed a blossoming pride in Callum and it thrilled her.

She stayed and talked with the children until they had finished the cider and oatcakes. Callum assured her that he was able to help Robbie if the boy needed anything so Kirstie took the tray back to the kitchen. She peered out the window and saw the three other little boys helping Alice in the garden.

“My Alice is verra fond of the lads.”

A little squeak of alarm escaped Kirstie for she had not heard Ian approach. She turned to look at him. He was a very big man, dark, none too handsome, and scarred, yet she had quickly seen the kindness in the man. At the moment, however, he looked uneasy, almost nervous.

“I believe the lads are verra fond of her as weel,” Kirstie said.

“Aye.” Ian ran his fingers over the large, jagged scar on his cheek, then sighed. “Did ye have any plans for the children? When ’tis safe, I mean.”

“Oh, weel, no firm ones. I was going to send them all to my brother Eudard, as I did the others.”

He nodded. “I remember ye saying that.”

“Of course, it then grew too dangerous to do so. None of these children has family so I rather think I shall keep them. Mayhap when we are all safe and with my kinsmen, I will find families who want them or e’en apprentice them to someone.” She shrugged.
“There is no hurry to decide.”

“Nay, nay.” He looked out the window at his wife and the boys. “I wed Alice near fifteen years ago. She was but fourteen and I was seventeen. She was soon carrying, but lost the bairn. Lost two more in the two years that followed. The midwife said something was damaged when she lost the last one. ’Twas for the best, I think, for she grieved so and was near death each time. The midwife must have been right in saying Alice was now barren for there has ne’er been another.”

“How verra sad,” she murmured, her heart aching for the couple.

Kirstie also felt uneasy for she knew what the man was struggling to ask her and, for a moment, she battled a selfish urge to hold fast to the children. She had not had such a feeling with the others, but suspected that was because she had sent them away so quickly. These children had been in her care far longer, had nudged their way into her heart. It took only one quick glance out the window to banish the feeling, however. She could see the bond between the three little boys and Alice. The boys had found their home and she would be the worst sort of wretch to deny it to them. When Ian finally looked at her again, she smiled encouragingly at him.

“Weel, if ye have no plans for the wee lads out there, mayhap ye would let them stay with me and Alice. Now, I havenae said a word to my Alice or the lads,” he hurried to say. “Being as the bairns were in your care and all, couldnae be sure what ye intended or felt. Didnae want to give my Alice false hope, ye ken. Now, I ken I am nay a rich mon.”

“Ian,” she said, interrupting his nervous recitation of his qualifications or lack thereof, “they were three ragged orphans or abandoned children. Nay sure which. I suspicion ye can give them far more than the foundling home did and a better future, too.” His sigh of relief was so heavy, Kirstie was a little surprised she stood firm before it. “Ye just want those three, aye?”

“Oh, we would take them all and I mean to tell the others that. Dinnae want any bruised feelings.” He looked out at his wife and the three little boys again. “’Tis just that those three, weel, my Alice and them seem to be, weel…”

“Bonded,” she said. “I can see it. It works that way sometimes.”

“Aye. The others are nay the same. Moira and Robbie have each other right now. It may change. And, if they want to be with me and my Alice, weel, we will be glad to have them. My Alice will love them hard, she will. Callum is set for better things, I am thinking.”

“Ye have found out more about his parentage?”

“Some, and Payton is speaking to Sir Bryan MacMillan. ’Tis nay him, but once Payton told him the lad looked so much like young Uven they could be twins, Sir Bryan kenned they were talking of a MacMillan. They breed true, ye see, and there are few who look like them.”

“But, there are none of the mother’s kin left?”

“None worth mentioning. Truth is, they would do the lad more harm than good. They kenned the lad was alone and wanted naught to do with him. ’Tis best he has naught to do with them.”

“Quite right.” She shook her head. “I dinnae think I will e’er understand such things.”

“Nay. I got the lad’s grandfather and uncle to tell me all they kenned, then thanked
them as they deserved and left.”

There was a look upon Ian’s harsh face that told her he had meted out a little retribution on Callum’s behalf. “’Tis their loss. Do ye want me to speak to Robbie, Moira, and Callum?”

“If ye could. I think ye would be better at making them understand that we but wait for them to make a choice. And assure Callum that I will keep training him nay matter what.”

“Ye have been good for him.” She smiled when he blushed slightly. “I can see the pride growing in him.”

“Aye, weel, I think I will tell my Alice that she can stop trying to nay love the wee lads too much.” He started toward the door leading to the garden, then paused. “He doesnae think of ye as just one of his women, ye ken.”

Kirstie felt a blush heat her cheeks, for there was no mistaking who he spoke of. “He is a rogue.”

“Oh, aye. A pretty lad like that could be naught else. The lasses have been sighing o’er him ere his voice deepened.” He shrugged. “A free mon will take what is offered, aye? ’Tis the way of men.”

“I am nay offering.”

“I ken it and there is the puzzle. The lad has ne’er set after a lass like this before.”

“Probably ne’er had to,” she grumbled, irritated by the mere thought of how easily women fell into Payton’s bed.

“Nay,” Ian said and briefly grinned at her. “So, if ’tis so verra easy for him to get some loving, why is he making himself half mad chasing after a wee lass who keeps saying nay?”

“Because I do say nay?”

He chuckled. “Could be. I dinnae ken and I willnae try to. My Alice looked at me and I looked at her and that was that. We kenned we were mates. I daren’t e’en try to guess what is going on between ye and Payton. All I wish to say is, if ye fret o’er what me and Alice might think, ye can stop. Whether ye keep saying nay or say aye, it matters naught to us. Ye willnae shame yourself in our eyes if ye grab yourself a wee bit of pleasure. As my Alice says, after five years of hell, ye deserve some. Do as your heart bids, lass, and dinnae fret so over the rest.”

“I think it might be wise if I try verra hard to nay let my heart lead me this time.”

“Mayhap. I just wanted ye to ken that my Alice and I willnae care if ye do or ye dinnae.”

“Thank ye. Now, go. Make your Alice happy.”

The moment he left, she peeked out the window. It was easy to see by the way the little boys rushed to his side that it was not only Alice they loved. She watched Ian pull his wife aside, bend down, and speak to her. Alice’s eyes widened, then she flung herself into her husband’s arms. Kirstie saw the look on Ian’s face, watched him pat his wife’s back a little awkwardly, and suspected she was crying. Deciding to give them some privacy, she turned around, only to find Payton walking toward her. By the time she thought to move, he had her pinned against the table set beneath the window, his hands set down on either side of her, and he was looking out the window over her shoulder.

“What is going on out there?” he asked, nestling himself between her legs and inwardly smiling when her breath caught.

Hearing the squeals of three excited little boys, Kirstie replied, “Ian just told Alice and the lads that they are now a family.” She leaned away from him as far as the table would allow when he looked at her.

“Ian finally worked up the courage to ask ye, did he?”

“Aye, although I dinnae ken why he needed courage to do so. I am nay so fearsome.”

“He didnae want to hear a nay. I understand how he felt.” He kissed her before she could respond. “Thank ye.”

“For what?” she asked, struggling to regather her wits, scattered by the heat of his kiss.

“For giving Ian and Alice such a fine gift.”

“The children did that. They chose. It really wasnae my decision to make.”

“Aye, it was.”

He placed his lips against the rapid pulse point on her slim throat. Payton put his hand on her tiny waist and slid it upward to cover her breast, feeling the hard tip of it against his palm despite the clothing sheltering it. At the same time he pressed his groin hard against her, moving in a faint mimicry of the act he craved. The soft noise she made was sweet music to his ears. Something between a gasp and a trembling sigh, it heralded her desire for him.

“Do ye ken what I want, lass?” he murmured and stroked the life-giving vein in her throat with his tongue.

“Ye have made it most clear what ye ask of me, but…”

“I want to push up these petticoats, spread these bonny white thighs, and bury myself deep within your warmth.”

“Jesu,” she whispered and realized she was nearly panting. She also realized he was slipping a hand beneath her skirts, but she could not seem to grasp the willpower to stop him. “Ye shouldnae say such things.”

“What? Nay speak the truth? Nay tell ye how I lie awake at night all asweat with the wanting of ye? Nay tell ye how I dream of all the things I want to do to this lithe, silken body of yours?”

Payton wondered just when it was he had decided it might be fun to drive himself completely insane. He could tell by her quick breaths and darkened eyes that his words were stirring her. Unfortunately, he was also stirring his own desires to a dangerous height.

Not that that was so uncommon anymore. He had had to start wearing longer tunics to hide the inconvenient and all-too-frequent hardening that occurred each time he thought of her. Or caught the hint of her scent. Or heard her voice. Or caught sight of her. Aye, Payton mused, he was definitely teetering on the edge of madness.

If she did not say aye soon, he knew that he would lose all patience. She desired him, of that he had no doubt. Soon, Payton feared, he would go to her room and do just as he had told Ian he would—ignore her nay until it became the aye he so craved. That would be folly, for after the delight there would be regrets, guilt, and recriminations. He needed her to be willing in heart, body, and mind.

His hand brushed against her garter holding her stocking up. Payton was just savoring the feel of her soft, warm skin above that when he heard a door open and shut. A moment later, even as he was pulling his hand out from beneath her skirts, something
hard rapped him on the head. Muttering a curse, he turned to glare at Wee Alice, who was holding an impressively large wooden spoon in her hand. She put her fists upon her well-rounded hips and glared right back at him.

“What did ye do that for?” he asked crossly as he carefully rubbed the sore spot upon his head.

“Ye shouldnae be tormenting the lass in the kitchen,” snapped Wee Alice. “Anyone could catch ye at it. And, ye certainly shouldnae be thinking of doing
that
upon the table where I knead my bread.”

“Weel, I was thinking of doing a little kneading myself,” he murmured and hastily backed away when Wee Alice threateningly raised her spoon.

“Make yourself useful. Go and help Ian keep my lads busy for an hour or two. They are eager to tell the others their news and I wished Kirstie to have time to talk to them first.”

“Ye think that will take an hour or two?”

“Nay, but I need to talk to Kirstie myself first.” The moment Payton left, Alice looked at Kirstie. “Have ye got your wits back yet, lass?”

“Most of them,” Kirstie replied, torn between amusement over the way Alice had routed Payton and embarrassment over being caught with a man’s hand under her skirts. “The mon is verra stubborn.”

“Och, aye,” agreed Alice. “Always has been. He is hungry, too, lass. Ye have put him in a sad state. Past time some lass did, I am thinking.” She suddenly clasped Kirstie’s hand in hers. “But, I didnae come to speak on that. I want to thank ye,”

“Nay, there is nay need. The lads need a family and ye want to give it to them. They want it, too. ’Tis all that is important.”

“We will treat them as our own and do right by them.”

“I ken it.”

Alice set her spoon down and nervously smoothed her apron. “I need to ken, weel, if the lads were, er, hurt. If your husband, weel, did them any true harm.”