Highland Vow (4 page)

“Aye. Another cousin.” She shivered and he held her a little tighter. “Sorcha, my uncle Eric’s firstborn. Three years ago she and I were captured by an enemy of his. That mon and two of his minions beat Sorcha and raped her. They made me watch. I was to share that fate, but we were rescued by Eric, my fither, and my uncle Nigel. When Uncle Eric saw what the men had done to his child, his revenge was swift and brutal.”

“What happened to Sorcha then?”

“She went to a nunnery. I believe she will soon take her vows.”

“Does she truly have the calling or does she hide?”

“I believe that she does have a calling. She was always, weel, more pious than the rest of us. We were all saddened that she left us, though she is near to Donncoill and we all visit whene’er we can, but ’tis easy to see she is happy. Whether ’tis because of a calling or because she feels safe or both, who can say for certain? Her parents have accepted it. They are pleased that she is alive and that the shadows have left her.”

“But they did not leave you, did they?”

“Nay. Not until now.”

“Whene’er I thought of Donncoill, I recalled only peace and happiness. ’Tis sad to ken that even such havens can be marred by tragedy. ’Tis even sadder that ye were witness to all of it.”

“Och, weel, considering how many Murrays there are about, ’twould be a miracle if none were e’er harmed.”

Cormac laughed softly. “Aye, there were a lot of you.” He gave into the urge to kiss her hair and said quietly, “I pray, for your sake, that your cousin Payton is blessed, that he somehow survives.”

“Thank ye,” she replied in an equally soft voice. “If any mon can win out o’er such misfortune, ’tis Payton.”

“Now that ye have calmed some, I shall return to my own bed.”

Elspeth clung just a little tighter, halting his move. She needed to keep him close to her. It occurred to her that Cormac could use the night, the separation of their beds, to fight the desire he felt for her. Each night she could lose any ground gained during the day. There were not many reasons she could give to hold him close at night, not until they became lovers. A lingering fear after a nightmare could serve very well. Although
she felt a little guilty for using his sympathy in such a way, she decided the battle she was about to engage in warranted a little subterfuge. Even if she did not win his heart for her own, she might ease Isabel’s choking grip on it, and that could only be for the best.

“Could ye nay stay close?” she asked, pleased with the slight waver in her voice.

He could, but he should not, and he could not really tell her why. “It wouldnae be proper,” he muttered, disgusted by that weak excuse.

“I believe propriety was lost the moment Lord Colin grabbed me off my horse. ’Tis just that I fear the dream will return if I am too much alone.”

“What happens when ye suffer a nightmare at home?”

“Someone stays with me. I have a verra big bed.”

Cormac did not wish to know that. Already images were forming in his mind of a particularly sultry Elspeth sprawled naked on a large bed, reaching for him as he lowered himself on top of her, pressing himself close to the ebony curls between her soft white thighs…. He shook his head, grasping desperately for some thought, any thought, that did not include a naked, willing Elspeth.

The problem was, there was no way he could refuse her request. She had watched her cousin and two men-at-arms be murdered, had been kidnapped, threatened with rape, and locked up in a tower room. It was no surprise that she was afraid to be alone. Cormac suspected she was accustomed to being surrounded by loved ones, people she could readily turn to if troubled. Now she had only him and he could not seem to keep his thoughts out of his breeches.

This girl had saved his life, he sternly reminded himself. He also belonged to another, was even now traveling to join her and, God willing, finally marry her. Both things should be enough to control his errant lusts. All Elspeth wanted was to feel safe. He was a grown man. He ought to be able to lie at her side and not sweat with need.

“Aye, I will stay close. Just let me fetch my bedding,” he said, hoping his reluctance could not be heard in his voice.

Elspeth let him go, watching him steadily as he moved his bedding next to hers and made one large bed. He was so tense when he settled down next to her she was surprised he did not creak. It might not be easy to seduce a man so intent on behaving himself. She turned onto her side, her back to him, then reached behind herself, grasped his hand, and tugged his arm around her waist. The man was so stiff it was like trying to cuddle with a rock, she mused and smiled faintly. The strength of his resistance, however, simply proved how strong his desire was, and that gave her hope.

“Thank ye, Cormac,” she said, wriggling backward until she was pressed up against him. “I feel safe now.”

“’Tis the least I can do.”

Elspeth bit back a giggle. Cormac sounded as if he was choking on something. The part of him twitching impudently against her backside told her it was desire strangling his voice. Surely something that strong would be impossible to fight for long. She could not do so. She already had to wrestle with the urge to turn in his arms, kiss him, and rub her body up against his. Elspeth closed her eyes and hoped his imaginings were as wild and as vivid as her own. After all, if she was going to ache and lose sleep, it was only fair that he did, too.

“Good sleep, Cormac,” she said, speaking only a little bit above a whisper.

Cormac inwardly cursed. That soft, husky voice was like a caress. He had not
thought his body could swell with desire any more than it had already, and he did not like to be proven wrong. The woman was dangerous, more so because she did not seem to know it. Cormac was surprised Balfour Murray ever let his daughter leave the protective walls of Donncoill; then he decided that a father might not see that his daughter was such a temptation to a man.

“Good sleep to you, Elspeth,” he whispered back.

Feeling his desire as she did, Elspeth suspected her dreams would not be restful ones, but they would certainly be interesting.

It was a while before Cormac felt Elspeth relax in sleep. He tried to pull away, but she simply followed him with her lithe body, cuddling up even closer than before. Her shapely backside rubbed against his aching groin and he shuddered.

In a village barely a day’s ride away there was a tavern maid who often granted a man her favors for a small fee. He had never answered her smiles before, but perhaps he should do so now. A good rutting would take the edge off a long unsatisfied need, and he would find the temptation of Elspeth easier to resist.

Even as he considered taking the time to dally with the tavern maid, he knew it was foolish. A waste of time and money. Such desperate measures had always failed him before, leaving him empty and unsatisfied. He was cursed with a very single-minded lust. Once fixed upon a woman, no other would do. Cormac knew he could spend a month in the bed of Scotland’s most skilled whore, and within moments of seeing Elspeth again, he would be in the same dire state he was now.

What troubled him most was how even thoughts of Isabel, so close and waiting for him, did nothing to cool his ardor. He could not even bring to mind a clear image of Isabel. Elspeth was there, interfering, her green eyes staring out of Isabel’s face until that woman disappeared completely and only Elspeth remained. Reminding himself that it had been a very long time since he had seen Isabel did not ease his troubled mind much. Isabel was the woman he had loved and honored for nearly half his life. She should not be so easily pushed out of his thoughts by a tiny, green-eyed girl, even if that girl had a voice that could melt rock.

Elspeth moved against him again in a slow, suggestive way. Cormac groaned, then sighed. It was going to be a very long night. If he remained a gentleman, kept his hands off Elspeth, and continued to honor his bond with Isabel, he deserved nothing less than sainthood.

Warmth flooded through Elspeth’s veins as she started to wake. It poured into her from the soft lips brushing temptingly over hers. She did not need to open her eyes, did not even need to be awake, to know who held her, who kissed her. It frightened her a little to know that Cormac was already so much a part of her, but she accepted it. She murmured his name and curled her arms around his neck.

“Are ye so accustomed to being kissed awake, my wee angel, that it doesnae startle ye?” Cormac asked as he nibbled lightly on her bottom lip.

It was an insulting question, but Elspeth decided to ignore its implications. Since she so readily accepted and returned his kiss when she was half asleep, it was not surprising that he would wonder about her innocence. She could not tell him she knew him by his smell, by the feel of his desire, or by the fact that her heart already claimed him as its mate. He would either think her mad or trying to entrap him, and he would run, very fast, in the opposite direction. Men, she had discovered at a young age, were not very good about accepting, discussing, or understanding feelings.

“I kenned it was you.” She threaded her fingers through his thick hair and pressed her body even closer to his. “After all, I fell asleep with ye at my side. ’Tis no great surprise that I would expect to see ye there when I woke.”

“Someone could have cut my throat in the night and taken my place.”

“I believe I might have noticed that.”

He grinned briefly, then kissed her. That led to another, deeper kiss. Cormac told himself that the kisses meant nothing—they were merely idle pleasures, easily stolen and just as easily forgotten. It was clear that Elspeth felt the same.

It did not explain how she made him feel, however. His blood was pounding in his veins. He wanted to crawl inside her and stay there. Never had one kiss stirred his desire so swiftly or so fiercely. Here was danger, he thought, but he could not find the will to pull free. He needed her and he could not make himself believe it was because of a lengthy celibacy.

Elspeth clung to him, tasting his growing desire and letting herself be swept away by it. She tilted her head back at the first touch of his lips on her throat. A small part of her was afraid of the strength of the passions flowing between them, of the ferocity of them, but she ruthlessly quelled the fear. This was what she wanted, what she needed, what her heart had longed for before she was even old enough to understand.

When she felt his warm, lightly callused palm cover her breast, she realized he had managed to half undress her and she had not even noticed. No man had ever touched her there and she felt it was both strange and beautiful. He rubbed his thumb over her nipple and the feeling that ripped through her was so sudden and so powerful she flinched, pulling away slightly. One look at his face told her that she had managed to break the spell they were under and she inwardly cursed.

Cormac yanked himself away from her and staggered to his feet. His groin pulsed with eagerness to continue and his hands shook slightly. He stared at tiny Elspeth in a mixture of wonder and dismay as she calmly fixed her bodice.

“Jesu,” he groaned. “What did ye do to me?”

“Me?” Elspeth got up and started to roll up her blankets. “I believe I was sound asleep when all this began.”

She was not going to let him get away with blaming her for the madness that had
seized them, nor with making any other excuses. He wanted her. Denying it as he might, excusing it as he so obviously wanted to, or trying to ignore it would not work. She would not let it.

“Weel, nay completely asleep.” He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to clear his head. “Ye are a weelborn lass, a maid, and a woman I owe a great debt to. ’Twas verra wrong of me to try to take advantage of our situation.”

“Ye fret too much. Did ye hear me screaming a protest?”

“Ye should have.”

Elspeth shrugged and moved to start a fire. “Mayhap. And I may be a maid, and weelborn, but I am no child. I am nearly twenty, far past marrying age. I believe I am old enough to worry about my own chastity.”

“Ye didnae seem to be worrying verra hard.”

“How verra tactless of ye to point that out.”

“I dinnae understand ye.” He frowned and rubbed his hand over his chin. “And what do ye mean ye
may
be a maid?”

So like a man to hear that and little else, she thought crossly. “’Twas just an ill choice of words. Why are ye so upset?”

Cormac did not really know, but he quickly found a suitable answer for her. “Because I am nay free to dally.”

“Dally, is it?” Elspeth murmured, briefly contemplating the pleasure of hurling the small iron pot she held at his head. “And just how are ye not free? Ye said ye werenae betrothed and werenae married. Thus ye are free.”

“True, I may be neither wed nor betrothed, but I have exchanged vows with a woman. We did so when I was but a lad and she a year younger. Those bonds still hold true.”

“How touching and honorable.”

Elspeth decided it was time to get away from him before she lost her temper. She handed him the little pot, proud of herself for not cracking him over the head with it, and marched off into the shelter of the surrounding trees. A little time to calm herself was what she needed. She could still feel his kisses, his touch, and she needed to shake free of the emotions he had stirred up inside of her. The last vestiges of the fierce passion they had so briefly shared had to be conquered before she could hear him talk of vows spoken or make any more excuses.

After seeing to her personal needs, then washing up in the icy water of the small brook wending its way through the trees, Elspeth felt better. Her sense of purpose was restored. It had just been disappointing to discover that Cormac was not going to be won over easily. He was going to be a hard nut to crack, especially since he had made some sort of vow to the wretched Isabel and was too honorable a man to cast it aside too quickly. Well, she would make a vow, too: She was going to do everything in her power to make him forswear his.

Cormac shivered as the icy water he splashed on his face trickled down inside his shirt. It was not as good as a cold bath, but it had taken some of the edge off his aching need. Still a little dazed, he moved to the fire to make some porridge to break their fast. The mundane chore was not enough to stop him from thinking, however.

He did not understand what had just happened. Although he had not been
completely faithful to Isabel, his dalliances had been few and far between. There was the occasional temptation he had given into, the women he had bedded during the bursts of jealousy he suffered each time Isabel had married and the few times his need had grown far too great to ignore. In none of those brief interludes, however, had he ever lost control or all sense of guilt. He had not even thought of Isabel until Elspeth had suddenly tensed beneath his touch and brought him back to his senses. None of the other women had been the virginal daughter of a laird, either.

It was pure madness, he decided. Ellpeth’s voice was enough to make him rock hard. He could still taste the sweetness of her lips and could not stop himself from wondering if the rest of her tasted as sweet. His palm still tingled from the feel of her full, silken breast, the tip hard and taunting. He could easily, willingly, drown himself in the taste and feel of her, and that deeply troubled him.

A too-long celibacy had to be the cause. Cormac did not want to even consider anything else. The answer was simple. They would pause in the next village to get a few more supplies, and he would find that willing tavern maid, take her to bed, and rut this insanity out of his blood. Then he and Elspeth could continue their journey and begin acting like sensible people.

There was only one catch in his plan. How did he slip away for this much needed rutting without Elspeth guessing what he was doing? Then he saw her walking back from the wood. The mere sight of her lithe shape made him ache. Cormac decided he owed her no explanations. His only concern should be getting her back, safely, into the hands of her family. If she found out what he was doing in the village, it was just too bad.

“Ye could at least feign a pleasant humor,” Elspeth said as she sat by the fire and helped herself to some bread and cheese while she waited for the porridge to finish cooking.

“I dinnae usually begin my mornings by trying to ravish virginal maids I owe a great debt to,” he drawled. “I beg your pardon if I seem a little disturbed by my own behavior.”

“Cormac, I have seven brothers and more male cousins than any sensible person would want. Do ye really think ye could ravish me without spilling at least a little of your own blood?”

“I am a great deal bigger and stronger than ye are.”

“As are most men, which is why I was taught every weak point a mon has. I wasnae taught just how to hurt a mon, either, but how to slip free of nearly any hold ye can think of and to use specific pains to ease those holds. If the men who had attacked Sorcha and me hadnae been so numerous and hadnae grabbed Sorcha thus distracting me, I may have e’en slipped free of that horror. Sadly, no one had e’er taught Sorcha what they taught me. She ne’er asked and she was e’er more a lady than I was.”

“Ye didnae do anything to me.”

“Nay, I didnae, did I?” she said in a soft calm voice, holding his gaze.

Elspeth saw exactly when he understood the meaning behind her words. His expression was an intriguing mix of desire, shock, and alarm. Then he looked angry. That hint of desire and alarm told her clearly that he desired her, but did not want to. The shock was easy to understand, for she doubted he had had many wellborn virgins declare their desire for him so bluntly. It was the anger she was not sure of. Did her boldness annoy him or was he angry because she had just made it clear that she would do nothing
to help him resist temptation?

“Ye are mad.”

“I hadnae realized that honesty had sunk so low in people’s esteem that it was now considered part of insanity,” she murmured.

“Eat.”

She ate, deciding it did no good to goad him. Anger might well give him the strength he sought. Elspeth would have liked to say more, but she had made herself clear about what she wanted. That would have to be enough for now.

They finished their meager meal in silence. Together they broke camp. When silence continued to reign after she swung herself up behind Cormac on his horse, she decided he was obviously going to sulk. It seemed she was going to be punished in a small way for being so ill mannered as to stir his desire. Cormac was definitely going to be a hard nut to crack.

“Just how stupid does the mon think I am?” Elspeth muttered as she glared at the front of the inn and tavern Cormac had disappeared into.

As they had purchased some supplies, Cormac had stolen a moment to speak privately with one of the merchants. He had tugged the rotund man far enough away from her to destroy all chance that she might overhear what they said. All she caught were the words
tavern, Annie
, and
skilled lass
. Those words added to the quick, amused, yet knowing looks of the merchant told Elspeth more than she really wanted to know. Cormac was looking for a whore.

It hurt, and that enraged her. The very thought of Cormac kissing and touching another woman twisted her innards with jealousy and the sharp craving to do violence. There she stood, ready, willing, and able—or at least soon to be taught how to be able if Cormac would just give her a chance. She was also afraid that a hearty tussle beneath the sheets with this Annie could actually succeed in giving Cormac the strength to ignore her.

For a moment she considered marching into the tavern and letting Cormac know just how furious she was. Then she heard the sounds coming out of the tavern. It was obviously filled with men, many of them already deep into their drinking if the sounds of loud revelry were any indication. If she went in there now, she could easily find herself neck deep in trouble before she even found Cormac.

Then she recalled that there had to be a kitchen door. She could slip inside unseen and then find Cormac. Although she suspected it would feel as if her heart was being cut from her chest with a dull knife if she caught him with a woman, she was not going to stand there and just wait until he strolled out adjusting his clothes. Maybe if she thoroughly embarrassed him or shamed him, he would give up the notion that he could fight the passion that flared between them by spending himself in another woman. It chilled her to think she might have to suffer this at every tavern or inn between here and the king’s court.

Preparing herself for the distasteful deed was useless, so Elspeth just took a deep breath and started around the side of the building toward the back. She was almost there when she collided with a buxom young woman hurrying from the privy in the back of the yard toward the same door. Elspeth took one look at her and inwardly cursed. If she could not divert the woman, Cormac certainly would not be turning her down.

“Are ye Annie?” she asked, shifting to block the woman’s way through the door.

“Aye. Do I ken ye?” Annie’s blue eyes narrowed and she impatiently pushed a lock of golden hair off her pretty face. “I really cannae stay here and talk. Old George told me there is a fine looking young gentlemon asking for me.”

“I ken it, and if ye answer that call, I can make it so that no one will wish your company again.”

Elspeth felt a twinge of guilt when her cold, hard threat made the woman turn pale, her eyes widening so much that it had to be painful. It was not Annie who deserved the brunt of Elspeth’s anger and hurt. Since she and Cormac had exchanged no vows, she supposed he did not, either. On the other hand, it was insulting that he would run from what she offered and go to another. Elspeth supposed she could excuse her anger that way if pressed.

“Are ye his wife?” Annie surreptitiously looked around, obviously seeking a clear route of escape.

“I intend to be. He is coming to ye because he wants me and feels ’twould be dishonorable to bed a virgin.”

Annie winced, then smiled sadly. “I have had me a few of those. They speak sweetly to me, then call out for the one they truly want when their lust grows hot enough to close their eyes.”