Highland Belle (12 page)

There seemed to be little chance of Iain and Brigette reconciling. Iain now returned his wifes coldness with his own. Each morning before she awakened, Iain rode out of Dunridge and returned at suppertime. He did not seek his own chamber at night until he was reasonably certain that Brigette slept.

After several days of being ignored, Brigettes vanity was ruffled. She was beginning to wonder where her husband went and whom he saw there, but refused to grant him the satisfaction of asking. Iain was leaving her alone, Brigette reasoned, and that was what she desired. Was it not?

Lady Antonia was beside herself with joy, and was the sole member of the MacArthur family eagerly anticipating Christmas. Almost nothing irritated her. She stopped scolding the servants and even smiled occasionally at Brigette, who became instantly suspicious. Were Antonias smiles and Iains disappearances somehow connected?

Christmas was only a week away. Iain returned home that evening as supper was being served. Sitting beside him, Brigette sensed a change in his demeanor. He seemed more relaxed than hed been in weeks.

Brigette was furious. My husband has taken a lover, she fumed, and pushed her plate away. But vengeance shall be mine, she thought without satisfaction. He cannot get an heir from his mistress.

Finished with his meal, Iain stretched his legs out. He sipped his wine and watched Brigette, who became uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny.

Im tired, she announced when she could endure no more. I believe Ill retire.

An excellent idea. Iain yawned and stretched with exaggeration. Ill join ye. He took her arm, then bade good night to Black Jack and Percy, who smothered their merriment at Brigettes dismayed expression.

They climbed the stairs in silence. Iains casual touch on Brigettes arm sent hot shivers coursing through her body, and her heartbeat quickened. Unwilling to yield to her husband, Brigette desperately missed what he did to her body. Merciful Christ, she cursed inwardly. A virgins life was so much simpler!

Inside their chamber, Brigette hurried to don her nightshirt, but Iain stopped her. Ye must sleep wi me as God created ye, his amused voice sounded from behind her.

But —

Its a command, lovey. He grinned wickedly.

As you wish, my lord.

Brigette scurried into bed. Hugging the farthest edge, she turned her back on her husband. Iain slid in and snuggled close, pressing himself against the silkiness of her back. When he slipped his hand across her body and cupped one of her breasts, Brigette tensed.

Its my wish we sleep thusly, he whispered.

Moments later, Brigette knew by the sound of his even breathing that he slept. Iains tantalizing nakedness and possessively cupping hand conspired to make Brigette yearn for what she would not be enjoying that night. It was a long, long time before she was able to sleep.

When Brigette awakened, her limbs were entwined with Iains. One arm was thrown across his stomach, and one leg was tangled between his muscular thighs. Her face was pressed against the thick mat of black hair covering his chest. Opening his eyes, Brigette found herself staring into her husbands smiling face.

What are you doing here? she asked, surprised.

Its my bed, he returned. Where else should I be?

Youve been rising early of late.

That task is completed. Iain grinned. Ive several days of leisure. Its good news, is it no?

Yes. She almost choked on the words. Its wonderful news.

Later that morning, Iain happened to meet Brigette in the courtyard and told her to stop for a moment.

Yes, my lord?

Would ye care to ride wi me? he asked.

No, thank you.

Its a command, hinny, no an invitation. When her mouth dropped open in dismay, he added, And yell ride in front of me on my horse.

Iain lifted Brigette onto the saddle, then mounted behind and pressed the hardness of his body against her. By the time they returned, Brigette was certain she was going mad, tormented by her husbands gentle assault on her senses. Her body was turning traitor!

Two days before Christmas, winters first blizzard was upon them. Forgoing the garden, Brigette and Glenda sat in front of the hearth in the great hall.

Shaking the snow off their plaids, several MacArthur warriors, including Iain and Percy, trudged into the hall. Seeing the two downcast angels in front of the hearth, Iain advanced on them. Its an excellent day for playin Blindmans Buff, he said. Would ye care to play? Glenda nodded eagerly, but Brigette shook her head.

Its a command, sweetie. Iain smiled pleasantly at his wifes grimace. Ill be the Blindman.

When Percy had blinded him with a scarf, Iain whirled this way and that, trying to catch his wife. Giggling in spite of herself, Brigette jumped back out of reach, but someone pushed her into Iains outstretched arms. Squirming, she tried to break free, but was ensnared by her husbands steely grip.

Aha! Iain chuckled. Whoever can this be?

One of his hands slid across Brigettes silken cheek and drifted down the column of her neck to her shoulders. Now let me see, Iain thought aloud. His hand passed over the curve of a shapely hip, then tweaked a plump breast. Id know these titties anywhere — its my wife!

Mortified and scarlet to the tips of her toes, Brigette slapped his hand away and fled the hall. Howls of raucous laughter chased her all the way upstairs.

On Christmas Eve, Brigette decided that she was singularly unhappy. Even Glenda, anticipating the holiday, was less dejected by Slys abrupt departure from Dunridge.

How can ye allow yer men to dice on Christmas Eve? Antonia complained to Black Jack when the family had gathered for supper. Its blasphemy.

All should be happy at Christmas, the earl replied. If dicin brings them joy, then so be it.

Antonia cast him an exasperated look, then turned to Brigette. Wheres Iain?

Hes fetchin Bries present, Percy answered, so she doesna waste a moment of the holiday feelin puirly.

Iain walked into the hall at the moment. Cradled in his arms was Sly, bedecked in a bright yellow ribbon that matched his collar.

Startled mute, Brigettes mouth dropped open. Iain grinned and placed the fox on her lap. Merry Christmas, hinny, he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. A lump of emotion formed in Brigettes throat as she looked from her pet to her husband.

This is a night to go down in history, Iain quipped. For once my wife is speechless.

Brigette buried her face into Slys neck and wept. The men exchanged smiles, and Glenda perched beside Brigette to pat the fox. Disgusted, Antonia left the hall.

Are ye no happy? Glenda asked.

Y-yes, Brigette sobbed, t-terribly h-happy. Black Jack and Percy burst out laughing.

Come along wi me, Iain said and held out his hand. I want to speak privately wi ye. He escorted Brigette to Black Jacks study and closed the door.

I willna admit to this publicly, he said, but I was unjust in my judgment and wrong to strike ye in anger. Can ye forgive me?

Yes, Brigette answered, and I admit I was wrong to defy you — publicly. Can you forgive me?

Iain smiled with tenderness, then lowered his head, his mouth claiming Brigettes in a gentle kiss. Their bodies melted together and the kiss deepened.

I missed ye, he whispered, his lips hovering above hers.

As I missed you, she vowed, drawing his lips down to hers again.

8

March in the Highlands was cold, much colder than Brigette remembered the south of England being at this time of year. Pink-cheeked, she and Glenda had passed an hour playing a rousing game of keep-the-ball-away-from-Sly. They were traveling the long road inside, a leisurely stroll through the garden before walking to the front courtyard.

Buds, Brigette cried, stopping beside a tree.

What?

See. Brigette pointed to a branch. This tree is birthing buds. Do you know what that means? Glenda shook her head. It means winter is leaving and spring will soon arrive.

Glenda giggled. Here she comes now.

Brie, Spring called, rushing toward them. Company has arrived and youre needed in the hall.

Company? Brigette echoed, surprised. Who?

Spring shrugged. Someone important. The hall is filled with his men.

Followed by Sly, Brigette entered the great hall and found it was, indeed, filled with strange men-at-arms. She scanned the chamber and saw Antonia curtsying to an older man who was sitting in front of the hearth with Black Jack, Iain, and Percy.

Archibald Campbell, the Duke of Argyll, was of an age with his kinsman Black Jack MacArthur. His features were rugged, and his dark brown hair was tinged with gray at his temples, giving him a decidedly distinguished appearance. The dukes sharp gray eyes missed nothing. Turned with displeasure on a person, those eyes could pierce and wound more painfully than any gleaming sword.

My lord, Black Jack introduced, this is Lady Brigette, Iains bride. Brie, make yer curtsy to the Duke of Argyll, our Campbell clan chief.

My lord. Brigette smiled and curtsyed.

Iain, lad, the duke said, returning Brigettes welcoming smile, yeve got yerself a bonnie lass. His eyes drifted to Sly, sitting beside his mistress. Am I seein what I think Im seein?

If ye think yer seein a fox, Iain said drily, then yer seein what ye think yer seein. This furry fellow is Sly.

What in Gods holy name, the duke asked, turning to Black Jack, is a fox doin in yer home?

He lives here, Percy answered, his eyes sparkling with merriment.

Lives here! Campbell exclaimed in amazed disbelief. Are ye in yer dotage, Black Jack, to allow such a thin?

With all due respect, Brigette spoke up, ignoring her husbands warning look, Sly is my pet.

Yer pet!?

This is not your home, she snapped, her green eyes flashing with anger, and I am not your wife. The way we live at Dunridge is no business of yours!

Brie! Black Jack and Iain shouted, appalled.

Its all right, the duke assured them with a casual wave of his hand. Dinna scold the wench for her rudeness. What she says is undoubtedly true. He leaned toward Black Jack, saying, I shouldve known her temper would match her fiery hair. If ye recall, my late wife was a redhead. Campbell glanced at Iain and smiled sympathetically. Ive much experience dealin wi red-haired wenches, laddie, if ever yer in need of counsel.

I am a lady, my lord, not a wench. Brigette smiled winsomely. I am also an earls daughter and have been taught proper respect.

Taught ye respect, did they? the duke mocked, his eyes alight with the most enjoyable verbal sparring since his wife had died. Well, then, what did ye learn?

Brigette grinned puckishly. Obviously, not a damned thing.

The duke roared with laughter and wished he could be thirty years younger. Gems like Lady Brigette, he thought, were wasted on young men like Iain or his own son, Magnus. Youth was blinded by a comely face and figure. An experienced man could fully appreciate the ladys intelligence and wit and the innocence that allowed her to speak her mind freely.

What respect ye get from that one will be hard won and well earned, he said to Iain as he watched Brigette slip away to tend her duties as hostess. Good luck to ye.

I envy the grandsons yell get from her, the duke said, turning to Black Jack. My Magnus has been betrothed to Huntlys youngest since the day the chit was born. Im truly despairin because he doesna seem in any hurry to wed and sire me an heir.

How is cousin Magnus? Iain asked.

And how the hell should I know? the duke barked. Hes forever off aboot the queens business. Incognito, I might add.

Ye can be proud, Black Jack said, yeve instilled in him such loyalty to the queen.

Id appreciate a bit of loyalty to me. The duke snorted. Inverary needs an heir and Huntlys chit is ripe. If its the last thin I do, Ill see Magnus wed to her. After shes dropped a few brats, he can disguise himself as the devil and go straight to hell.

Black Jack chuckled. I must admit Iain knows his duty in that regard. Ye wouldna believe the long hours he spends lyin abed wi Brie. Iains face reddened with embarrassment, and Percy howled with laughter.

It was the dukes turn to chuckle. Id forgotten how it was bein wed to a comely wench. We must be gettin old. Speakin of old, Black Jack, Ive sad news concernin our kinsman, Breadalbane. Colin sickened recently and passed on. Will ye come along wi me to pay our respects?

Yes, and Iainll also come. Black Jack turned to his youngest son. Do ye think, Percy, yer capable of takin charge here for a fortnight? I wouldna want to return home to nothin. Now Percys face reddened with embarrassment, and Iain howled with laughter.

How long will you be gone? Brigette asked, reaching for Iain as he slipped into bed with her.

He kissed her lingeringly. Nae more than a fortnight, sweet.

Ill miss you.

Especially in bed?

Most especially in bed.

With that, Brigette pushed him onto his back and slithered on top. Sensuously, she rubbed her softness full-length against his hardened warriors body. Her rosy lips parted and descended to his as she raised her hips and then slowly, tantalizingly, impaled herself on his shaft.

A growl of pleasure escaped Iains throat as she caressed every part of his body with her own. Holding his own desire in check, Iain watched her eyes fly open in surprised abandon when she dissolved into a quivering mass of hot sensation.

Yer button was swellin against me, Iain whispered huskily, then rolled her onto her back and rammed himself into the deepest part of her being. Clinging to him, Brigette wrapped her legs around his waist and arched her hips, meeting his every powerful thrust, her body urging him on.

Give me a son, Iain panted.

Yes, Brigette wailed, and they shuddered together.

Lady Antonia awakened early and dressed hurriedly, then rushed downstairs to the great hall. Iain would be leaving at dawn, and she hoped Brigette would sleep through his departure, giving her a few moments alone with him. She must somehow persuade Iain to set Brigette aside before a child was conceived. Loving Iain as she did, Antonia was determined to rekindle the warm feelings hed once harbored for her, and to become the next Countess of Dunridge. Nothing was going to stop her, even if she had to dispatch the Sassenach with her own lovely hands.