Highland Captive (43 page)

Parlan
ignored Lagan’s sarcasm. “I have an idea for both. Aye, and mayhaps t’will
serve to ease her fears. The last time we were there Rory set upon us. This
time we can have our time alone in peace, and I mean to make the most of it.”

“Are
ye sure ye ought to act so free so soon? Mayhaps ye ought to wait to, weel, be
sure.”

“If
I followed that advice, I would never feel safe nor free. Nay, Rory is dead and
I mean to act accordingly.”

Wildflowers
drifted down to scatter over the fresh mounds of dirt. Their soft colors
gentled the stark, barren look of the burial rises. The wind gently tugged at
the full cloak of the figure who stood before the graves. A sigh broke the
quiet.

“Weel,
old friend, how is hell? At least I ken that ye willnae be lonely. We ken many
who have settled there. I will join ye there eventually.”

“Ah,
old friend, I hope ye understand. I had to do it. They were too close, yapping
at my heels until I couldnae do aught but hide and I need to do more. I must
have the freedom to move or I will never get the revenge my soul craves.”

“Ye
do understand, dinnae ye, Geordie, my friend. Your sacrifice willnae be wasted.
If I cannae survive to kill Aimil and the man she plays the whore for, I will
drag them down into hell with me. Ye willnae be alone for long, Geordie.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Dig
him up.”

Leith
stared at his father in shock. Such a request was the last thing he had
expected when he had brought his father to view Rory’s and Geordie’s graves.
Neither could he understand why his father requested such a gruesome thing.
There seemed no reason for it.

“Ye
cannae mean it. I told ye he was dead. What purpose can be served by digging up
his corpse?”

“Do
ye fash yourself over some fear of desecrating the dead? This dead was
desecrated before he was set into the ground. Dig him up.”

“But
why? I looked at him and t’was a sickening sight but I recognized his things.
Why do you do this?”

“To
be sure. Ye saw a ring, a dagger, and a sword. I wish to see more.” He signaled
to the two men with him. “Dig him up. There isnae any need to hesitate as I
argue with my son.” He looked back at Leith as the men began to dig. “Who put
the flowers on the grave?”

Staring
at the withering blooms his father held out to him, Leith shook his head. “I
ken of no one who would. Dung, mayhaps. Flowers, nay.”

“Another
part of a puzzle.”

“What
puzzle save for these flowers?” Leith tossed them aside and scowled at the
graves.

“Mayhaps
the only puzzle is that he was taken before we who had a right to vengeance
could extract it.”

“Weel,
digging him up to stare at his corpse willnae ease that.”

“Nay,
but t’will ease my mind of worrying that it isnae his corpse.” Lachlan sighed,
his gaze fixed upon the men digging. “When ye first told me of his death, I was
angry. I felt something had been stolen from me. Then the anger began to ease
and I began to think.”

When
his father said no more for several moments, Leith finally swore softly in
exasperation. “Began to think what?”

“Ah,
that t’was all so neat. Too neat. Aye, we hadnae caught him yet, but he was
cornered. He couldnae move freely, couldnae even try to get near his quarry. We
ken how badly he wished to reach Aimil. I began to think he may have found a
way.”

Suddenly
understanding what his father meant, Leith swore. “He made it look as if he was
dead. I was wrong.”

“Mayhaps
not and I wouldnae lash myself with guilt if ye are. Ye saw what ye were meant
to see—Rory and Geordie dead.”

“Odd,
though I had a doubt or twa about Rory, I had none at all that it was Geordie I
saw. I would still swear to it.”

“It
could weel be Geordie. T’was no doubt part of why ye believed ye saw Rory. Do
ye really think a man like Rory would hesitate to kill what might have been his
only friend if it served his purpose?”

“Nay,
not for a moment. He would do it without regret.”

“Weel,
if I am right, he may have a regret or twa. There are the flowers and they were
mostly upon the grave ye said was Geordie’s.”

Leith
absently nodded. His attention was upon the shrouded body the men pulled from
the grave. Despite his father’s advice about not feeling guilty, Leith knew he
would if he proved to be wrong. He knew he would also be afraid, afraid that
his error could prove very costly.

With
tension knotting his insides, Leith stood by as his father carefully examined
the body. He knew Lachlan needed time to be certain but his impatience grew. If
he had been wrong, time was not something they had too much of. When his father
stood, signaled the men to reinter the body, yet said nothing, Leith gave up
being patient.

“Is
it him?”

“Nay.”

That
one soft word struck Leith to the heart. “Sweet God, I was wrong.”

“Dinnae
take it to heart. I too would have thought it him. He chose weel. Aye, and
there is damage to the face from what little I could see amongst the ravages
and wounds caused by fire. Nay, this was verra nearly perfect.”

“But
not perfect and I missed the error that whoreson made. What was it?”

“I
kenned something about Rory that ye didnae, something I learned of years ago.
He has a mark. T’was there at birth.”

“I
never noticed one upon him.”

“Ye
wouldnae unless ye had seen him naked and looked verra closely. The body
beneath the charred clothes wasnae so ruined as the rest. Rory had a mole, a
small dark one, below the curve of his left buttock. T’was hidden by the bend
of his body most times, even when he was a bairn. I never would have kenned the
mark was there save that his father showed me. He feared t’was the mark of the
Devil.”

“He
had a right to worry on it.”

“Nay,
not over a wee spot upon the skin. Such a simple, innocent mar couldnae cut to
the soul to rot it as Rory’s soul is rotted.”

“I
told Parlan that that was Rory.”

“Ye
said he doubted.”

“He
did then but he felt it foolish, meant to cease doubting.”

“Then
we best hie to Dubhglenn. He may believe it by now and act as if there is
naught to fear. That is just what Rory wants.”

As
she reined to a halt beside Parlan, Aimil looked around and then shook her
head. “Here again?”

“‘Tis
a fine place.” He dismounted then helped her to do the same. “I have always
favored it, finding peace here. I mean to do so again.” As he spread a blanket
upon the ground, he glanced her way. “Mayhaps after a peaceful day here, ye
will lose a few of your doubts.”

Cautiously,
she approached the blanket and sat down. She told herself it was foolish to
still fret and fear but she could not stop herself. The last time she had come
to this place with Parlan their time together had ended with Rory attacking
them, badly wounding Parlan, and taking her away to suffer a time she wished
never to suffer again. Despite the beauty of the day and the place, the
memories of that time remained clear.

Glancing
at the food Parlan set out, she then surreptitiously studied him. He looked
very cheerful, and there was an eager, hungry look in his eyes. Old Meg had
neatly evaded her, but Aimil felt increasingly sure that the woman had declared
her healed from the birth. She did wonder why he played the game of secrecy
then decided not to complain. There could be a great deal of enjoyment in
relaxing and letting him play his game for she was sure that it would lead to
something they both wanted. She also knew she would enjoy every step as he led
her along.

When
she took a quick look at herself, she sighed. She was not dressed as fine as
she would have liked for such an occasion. The plain outfit, given to her for
she had had no gowns, was clean and comfortable but not beautiful so as to enchant
Parlan, something which she would really like to do just once. He did not seem
to mind but she did wish that she could show him that she could be as elegant
and as finely bedecked as any lady he had ever known. Biting into a chunk of
bread with more force than necessary, she thought crossly that that would be
easier if he had not known quite so many ladies.

Parlan
finally noticed that his wife was looking less than pleased with the
arrangements he had made. “Something troubling ye, dearling?”

“Is
this the celebration ye spoke of?”

“Aye,
meager as it is.”

“Weel,
I wish ye had warned me. I would have done myself up a lot finer.”

“Ye
look as beautiful as any man needs.” He gently let her hair down. “Why do ye
put it up? ‘Tis a crime to chain it, hide it.”

“I
am a wedded lass now, a mother. T’would be unseemly to leave it loose like a
maiden.”

“Even
if your husband commands it?” He enjoyed the feel of her thick, silken hair in
his hands, combing his fingers through it.

“Are
ye going to command it then?” She nearly laughed at how such a simple action as
he was performing had her breathless and eager.

“I
think I might. Unbound and glorious when I am near but bound and kept from
tempting others when I am away.”

He
brushed his lips over her cheeks and lightly teased her mouth with his but
found that he lacked the patience for such play. Having her near and knowing
that he could make love to her had his blood running so hot it made him feel
feverish. He kissed her hungrily, and the hunger he sensed in her return kiss
severed what little control he had. It had been too long since he had loved
her.

Pushing
her down onto the blanket, he quickly began to loosen her clothing. Need
controlled him, a need only she could fulfill. When he finally freed her
breasts, he pressed his face against their fullness and vainly tried to slow
himself down. Over the sound of his own harsh breathing, he could hear hers and
realized that she suffered as he did, making all his efforts at control
useless.

“I
thought ye were going to chase me.” Aimil finished baring his chest and
smoothed her hands over its strong expanse.

“Havenae
I yet? I feel as if I have run miles.”

He
cupped her breast in his hand and gently suckled the hard tip, relishing the
flavor his child so often demanded. When she cried out softly and arched
against him, he shuddered. He felt dangerously close to release already.

“Old
Meg said I was healed from the birthing, did she?” Since he was already pushing
up her skirts and somewhat roughly tugging off her braies, she decided that
that was probably a foolish question.

Placing
his hand between her thighs and feeling her warmth, he needed a moment before
he could speak. “Aye. What do ye say?”

Starting
to unlace his hose, she whispered, “I say hurry. If ye wish it, I could also
say please.” She smoothed her hands over his taut backside, pushing the
loosened hose down as she did so.

“Just
say aye.”

“Aye,
Parlan. Aye.”

She
cried out in surprise and relief as he plunged into her. Wrapping her limbs
around him, she held him tightly. His heated breath came fast against her neck
as he blindly carried them to the heights of passion. It was fast, fierce, and
a little rough but, as her release seized her in its blinding grip, she decided
that it was also glorious. Even as she cried out, arching to draw him deeper
within her, she heard him say her name, felt him clutch her hips, and hold her
closer as he sought to bury himself as deeply as possible within her eager
body.

Holding
her close and making no move to break the intimacy of their embrace, Parlan
savored the lingering effects of the pleasure only she could give him. She
could have been as ugly as sin, he mused, and he still would have kept her
close for the pleasure she gave him, to revel in the passion they shared.
I
simply would have kept the candle snuffed more often
, he thought, and
laughed softly.

Not
ceasing her languid caress, Aimil looked at him curiously as he propped himself
up on his elbows to look at her. “And what so amuses ye?” She decided she must
have grown more confident of him for she felt only curiosity about his
laughter.

“I
had intended a seduction but I think that was more of a ravishment.”

“Weel,
I have no objection to being ravished now and again.” She smiled faintly and kissed
his nose.

“Ye
shouldnae make your poor husband suffer so many long weeks without a wee taste
of you.”

“I
didnae make ye suffer, t’was your son, but I thank ye for suffering.”

Slightly
easing from their embrace, he gently brushed a few stray wisps of hair from her
face. “Why thank me?”

“Other
men would have turned elsewhere when their needs were so long denied.”

“Now,
that wouldnae have been quite fair, seeing as ye too were being denied of
something ye favor, too. Oof!” He caught the small fist that had punched him in
the side and kissed it. “Besides, lass, why should I seek out something common
when I kenned that waiting awhile would give me the best?”