Highland Vow (7 page)

“If he can find me,” she felt compelled to protest. “That willnae be easy.”

“True, but it isnae impossible, either, and ye arenae the only one who forgot that.” He glanced back at the few men in the tavern, scowling when he caught them all staring at Elspeth. “Weel, ’tis plain that ye cannae be left alone. Fate clearly doesnae want me to veer an inch from the torturous path she has set me on,” he muttered. “Wait here.” After sending the men in the tavern one sweeping glare as a warning to stay away from Elspeth, he went in search of the innkeeper.

The incident with the village bullies had shown Cormac that he could not leave Elspeth alone, could not separate himself from the temptation of her and protect her at the same time. He felt torn as he informed the innkeeper that he now wished to share the room with his
wife
. Part of him was quite obviously pleased at the prospect of sharing a bed with Elspeth, of sharing that glorious passion that flared so easily between them, but another part of him was disgusted by his own weakness. In the end he would be using Elspeth, sating his body with hers while holding all else for another. Despite her apparent acceptance of that, he knew she deserved so much more.

It was not until she was back in her room, watching a grim-faced Cormac bring in his things, that Elspeth realized what had happened. They would no longer have separate rooms. She washed up in preparation for the meal they would soon share and fought hard to hide her delight over the arrangements. She easily excused the way Cormac looked as if he was facing the gallows. No man would be pleased to have his strenuous attempts to be chivalrous all ruined. Recalling the desire she had felt in him, that passion that had so readily equaled her own, made it easier to endure his black mood. After all, he would not be so upset if he was confident he could resist her.

Her understanding was severely strained as they shared a hearty meal. Cormac responded so abysmally to her attempts at conversation that she finally gave up. She began to think the night was not going to be the wondrous passionate time she had hoped for. Surely a man sunk so deeply into a black mood, as Cormac now was, could not feel amorous.

Trying to convince herself that there was still a chance to continue her plan, Elspeth excused herself and went to the room they were going to share. She washed up, donned her scandalous night rail, and dabbed her new scent in what she hoped were all the appropriate spots. Then, instinct telling her it would not be wise to face Cormac so boldly until he had released some of the blackness weighing him down, she wrapped herself in a blanket. Praying that he would not stay in the tavern drinking himself into a stupor, she curled up in a hard chair near the small fire and waited.

When Cormac finally joined her, he looked neither drunk nor quite as black humored as he had earlier. He did, however, look chagrined that she was still awake. After giving her an absent smile, he sat down on the edge of the bed and took off his
boots. Elspeth decided that she could lose little by trying to find out what ailed the man.

“Ye look as if someone has died,” she said, moving to stand in front of him.

Cormac noticed she was barefoot and sighed. She really did have pretty, little feet. Elspeth had none of the attributes poets and minstrels praised. She was not fair of hair or blue of eye or sweet, modest, and retiring. Nor was she fulsome, although her slender body held all the curves any man could want. And yet he thought she had to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, in face, in body, and in spirit. He supposed most men would excuse him for wanting her so much and probably think him completely mad for his reluctance to take what she offered him so freely.

“I find I am not the honorable mon I thought I was,” he said, finally meeting her searching gaze.

“Why? Because ye didnae hold firm to your vows?” she asked.

He had not even considered that, but was loath to admit it, so he simply ignored her question. “I have let my lusts rule me. I have bedded a virgin maid, and sweet Jesu, I want to do so again. Yet I am not free. I travel to a woman I have been bound to for ten years and this time I may weel be able to save her from further ill use by her family. After all these years, I may weel be able to fulfill the vow I once made and marry her.” He hesitated and dragged his fingers through his hair.

Elspeth prayed he would cease speaking of Isabel, for she was tempted to scream at him to open his cursed eyes and actually look at the woman he was wasting his life on. “As I have told ye before, ye fret too much.”

“Angel, I want you. I dinnae think there is a part of me that doesnae ache for you. And now that I ken what we can share together, that hunger only grows stronger. ’Tisnae right, for I can offer ye naught but my passion. Ye deserve more. If I give into this hunger, I will just be using ye to slack it, for I ken I cannae give ye any more and I ken that it must end. That is wrong, Elspeth, and yet I am ashamed to confess that I am verra eager to be wrong.”

“Ah, poor Cormac, how ye do love to torment yourself. I have said that I want ye. I have told ye that I burn for you. Ye have told me the truth: Ye cannae offer me any more than passion. I prefer to think of what we can share as a pleasant thing, a joyous sharing. If ye wish to think of it as using me, then, fine, use me.” She let go of the blanket.

Cormac watched the blanket slide down her body and pool at her feet. He lifted his gaze back to her and drew his breath in so sharply he nearly choked himself. The night rail she wore somehow both concealed and revealed. It was so thin he could see the outline of her slender body yet cleverly placed lace kept certain intimate areas almost modestly concealed. He tore his gaze from her body and looked at her face just as she smiled. It was a smile of sensual invitation that heated his blood yet there was the hint of mischievousness there as well. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. The knowledge of what he could do to her as well was all that kept that from pinching his pride.

“Where did ye get that?” he asked as he quickly shed his doublet and shirt.

“From a wee shop in the town. Do ye like it?”

“’Tis the devil’s own creation made to tempt a mon into lustful sin.”

“I should hope so, for I paid a fair price for it.”

“Wretched lass,” he murmured, his voice trembling with laughter as he finished shedding his clothes.

The way Elspeth stared at him made him feel both weak with desire and not just a little vain. She made no attempt to hide how much she appreciated the look of him. He found himself thinking it was just how Isabel looked at him and then frowned, for he suddenly knew that was not true. There was always a measuring quality in Isabel’s gaze, as if she compared him to someone. That thought so disturbed him that he quickly banished it and turned his full attention back to Elspeth. Although he could offer her no future, he vowed that, for whatever time they would have together, he would be solely hers in body and in mind.

“My maiden dreams ne’er came near to matching the beauty of you,” she said, reaching out to boldly stroke his hardened staff.

“Ye had maidenly dreams about me?” Cormac clenched his hands at his sides as he fought for enough control to enjoy her touch for a while.

“Oh, aye. Ye were my knight. I found ye wounded, being hunted by men who wished ye dead for a crime ye didnae commit, and ye were such a bonny lad e’en then. Aye, and then ye kissed my hand in parting.” She took a step closer to him so that she could caress him with more ease, delighted at the pleasure he so obviously received from her touch. “At first they were sweet, childish dreams of heroic rescues, but then I grew older and learned something about the ways of men and women. Then those dreams were nay longer so sweet, but hot. Verra, verra hot.”

Her soft husky voice stroked him almost as well as her long slender fingers. The thought of being the man in her dreams for years was a heady one. It could also mean that it was not simply desire that drove Elspeth into his arms, that her feelings ran a great deal deeper than she admitted. It would explain a lot. It would also mean that it would be most unkind of him to indulge in a brief affair with her, then cast her aside once he was reunited with Isabel.

He was just about to ask her, as bluntly as he dared, what she did feel for him when she suddenly went down on her knees in front of him and ran her tongue along his aching length. His whole body swayed from the force of the delight that rushed through him. Cormac tugged on the ribbons at the sleeves of her gown and watched it slide off her body. With his hands on her shoulders, he struggled to contain his passion long enough to savor the way she loved him with her mouth. She followed his hoarse requests with a sweet willingness that made him dizzy.

Finally, knowing he could endure no more, he pulled her to her feet and nearly threw her on the bed. Despite the crippling need he felt to be inside her, he held back, wanting to be sure she was ready for him. When he slid his fingers through the tight curls at the juncture of her thighs and found her already damp with invitation, he lost the last shreds of his control. With a soft cry he plunged into her. It was a wild, frantic ride, and when she cried out in release, he was right there with her.

It was a long time before Cormac regained the wit to recall just how fierce his loving had been and he cautiously raised himself up on his forearms to look at her. The faint smile on her lightly flushed face was one of pure female satisfaction. Cormac did not think she knew what a wonder she was.

“Did I hurt ye, lass?” he still felt compelled to ask.

“Nay,” she replied, then grinned. “But the headboard of this bed was a wee bit hard.”

He laughed as he eased the intimacy of their embrace. After cleaning them both
off, he quickly rejoined her in bed, lying on his back and tugging her into his arms until she was sprawled on top of him. He was in it now, knee deep and sinking fast, but Cormac decided he would worry about it all later.

Elspeth felt him harden against her and her eyes widened. “Again?”

“Ah, angel, now that we have begun this affair, I mean for it to be the wildest, most passionate, and most exhausting one there has e’er been.”

That suited Elspeth just fine. It meant he would not be pushing her away again. And just maybe, he would find beneath that wildness and that passion the spark of love. And if not, if she lost her gamble for his heart, once the pain eased she would have a lot of sweet memories.

While she waited for Cormac to finish stabling their horses, Elspeth wandered to the doors of the warm, and a little too fragrant, stable to take a deep breath of fresh air. It had troubled her a little to find that Cormac had gotten her her own horse, but she had firmly told herself not to be so foolish. The need for one was easy to see and she could not put their lives at risk just because she liked to be close to Cormac. He was no longer trying to push her away. She did not have to greedily cling to every small opportunity to be near him.

Although their affair was only two days old, he was certainly living up to his promise to make it a wild, passionate, and exhausting one. If they kept spending so much time indulging their passion and so little time traveling, it would be Michaelmas before they reached the king’s court. That suited her just fine, for at court waited Isabel. Elspeth found a small reason to hope in the fact that Cormac was not rushing to his lady’s side.

A strange shriek, one of pain and fear, caught her attention. She stepped outside of the doorway and looked around. When she heard it again, she realized it was a cat. Then she heard the laughter of boys. Without another thought, she started toward the sounds, which were coming from an alley just across the rutted, muddy road.

She had fully expected to find boys tormenting some poor animal, but Elspeth was still shocked at the cruelty she saw. Four youths had cornered a large cat at the back of the alley between the butcher’s shop and a small candlemaker’s shop. They were taking turns poking the animal with sharpened sticks, laughing heartily as it howled and tried to defend itself. Already its fur was matted with blood, so much so that even the mud on its coat could not hide it. They were torturing the animal to death and finding humor in its valiant struggle to stay alive.

Elspeth marched right up to the closest boy, soundly boxed his ears, and grabbed his stick when he dropped it. She then found herself facing four scowling boys, who, although younger than her, were all a lot bigger. And now they were angry.

“Such men ye are to torture a wee animal to death,” she sneered at them.

“’Tis just a cat,” grumbled the one she had struck. He glared at her as he rubbed his abused ears.

“’Tis smaller than ye and ye have it trapped. ’Tis but one cat and there are four of you. ’Tis naught but cowardly, cruel torture, and ye should all be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Is it yours?” asked the smallest of the four, who had already tossed aside his stick.

“Nay, but that doesnae mean I will allow ye to continue this sickening game,” Elspeth said.

“And ye think ye can stop it?” said the biggest youth. “There are four of us and nay too much of ye, lass.”

The arrogance of the boy made Elspeth ache to slap him numb. He could not be much older than four and ten, for there was only the hint of future hair on his narrow face. The sneering way he said the word
lass
and the contempt on his face told her that he already had a very low opinion of women. She suspected his father, if he had one about, was a swinish brute. The way the other three youths looked at him told her they recognized him as the leader of the pack, admired for his maturity and strength. That only made her all the more eager to set him in his place, for he would eventually corrupt the others. Glancing at the poor cat, she wondered if he had not already accomplished that.

“I have seven brothers and a vast horde of male cousins,” she said, keeping her voice hard and fixing her gaze firmly on him. “Ye dinnae frighten me, laddie. Any
mon
who needs three others just to corner and torment a wee cat is naught but a cowardly, wee worm who needs the pain of those weaker and smaller to make himself look big.”

“Ye black-haired bitch,” he snarled and charged at her.

Elspeth let him come, and just as he reached for her, she darted to the side. He stumbled past her and she kicked him in the backside. Cursing with an amazing fluency, he sprawled facedown in the dirt, his stick flying out of his hand. Elspeth quickly kicked it out of his reach and tossed hers after it. When he staggered to his feet, she faced him, her fists clenched and ready. He looked surprised for a moment, then sneered, assuming he would now have the upper hand. He clearly had paid no heed to her talk of her brothers and cousins. Elspeth had no trouble fighting a lad, even one a little bigger than she was. Recalling what he had called her just before he had charged, she decided she was also going to enjoy it.

“Ye must be mad,” he scoffed, putting up his fists. “Ye willnae be so bonny soon.”

His fists were a lot bigger than hers, but Elspeth was still not worried. A youth like him would not have any true skill, for he had simply not had the time to learn it. She was undoubtedly quicker. He was facing her squarely, confident of his superiority. She knew how to stay out of the way of those fists. Elspeth smiled. She also had no qualms about cheating.

He swung, oblivious to the soft protests of his friends, who obviously felt he should not be fighting with a lady. Elspeth ducked and hit him hard in the stomach. His friends grew silent. The boy cursed and swung again. Elspeth ducked and popped back up to punch him in the nose. He howled and put a hand over his bleeding nose. She reached out, grabbed his little finger, and began to bend it backward. For a brief moment she was afraid he would hold firm until it broke; then he yielded, allowing her to urge him down on his knees. When he tried to grab at her with his other hand, she caught hold of the little finger of that hand as well, but did not have to bend it far before he became still. She had the little bully completely at her mercy now. All she had to do was think of the right things to say, something that might actually spark a hint of wisdom in his head.

“Do ye need any help, angel?” drawled an all too familiar voice.

Cormac had seen Elspeth disappear from the front of the stables and cursed. After settling with the stablemaster, he hurried after her. He had thought that he had made her understand the danger she was in. By the time he got outside the stables, all he saw of her was a flash of skirt as she disappeared into an alley across the street. Her impulsiveness was going to get her killed, he thought angrily as he went after her, pausing only long enough to make sure no one was around who might trap them both in the alley.

He arrived just in time to see her kick the older youth in the backside. Although he stayed to the shadows, he was ready to move in quickly. Cormac gaped along with the boys when she readied herself to fight it out with the young bully who had cursed her. The boy was right. She was mad. The boy was younger but he was bigger and stronger. And, Cormac thought crossly, well-bred young ladies were not supposed to indulge in brawls.

Even as Cormac moved closer, intending to put a quick stop to this foolishness, the youth threw the first punch. Cormac stopped, impressed by how quickly Elspeth moved. Someone had taught her well. She was too small and delicate to trade punch for punch,
but she was obviously very good at ducking, then darting in to strike hard and fast before skipping out of reach again. He was very interested in the way she brought the young bully to his knees.

And all for a cat
, he mused, one look at the animal enough to tell him that she had caught the boys in the midst of torturing the animal. Only Elspeth would find that something to fight about. Cormac moved out of the shadows and almost smiled at the way the friends of Elspeth’s foe looked at him in horror. One thing that struck him as odd was that the cat had not run away. It sat there, steadily watching Elspeth with its big yellow eyes. When Elspeth routed the bully, Cormac could have sworn the cat smiled; then he told himself not to be such a fanciful idiot. It was just a trick of the dim light in the alley. He turned his attention to Elspeth and spoke to let her know he was there.

Elspeth almost cursed when she saw Cormac standing there, but she struggled to act as if there was nothing unusual about a well-bred lass thrashing a young man. “Nay, thank ye, Sir Cormac. I believe I have everything weel in hand.”

“Oh, aye, I believe ye do. Argued a lot with your brothers and cousins, did ye?”

She decided he expected no reply to his nonsense, so she turned her attention on the boy. “Ye are a wretched child,” she scolded the youth. “I dinnae ken if ye have the wit to understand this, but try to heed me. This sort of behavior does ye no honor. Ye belittle yourself when ye prey upon the weaker, the smaller. Mayhap ye should recite and recall a few old but verra wise sayings. Make friends, nay enemies, and ye will live longer. Ye can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Honor lost is forever gone. Do unto others as ye would have them do unto you.”

“Enough!” the youth cried.

“Tormented by proverbs,” murmured Cormac. “An unusual yet obviously effective torture.”

Elspeth decided that, as soon as she was done with the boy, she would hit Cormac. “Laddie, if ye build a name as a bully, if ye gain your strength only by tormenting the weak, ye will sorely regret it. Ye will be constantly challenged, and one day, someone bigger and stronger than ye will repay all your wee cruelties with some of his own.” She released him and watched him stagger to his feet. “If ye gain followers through fear, once ye yourself are conquered by someone stronger, faster, and crueler than you, none of those who bowed to you will come to your defense. Now go ere I think of a few more words of wisdom to deafen ye with.”

She did not even bother to see if the boys did as she told them to, but turned to the cat. Cormac was there. He would watch her back. Murmuring gentling words, Elspeth slowly approached the wounded animal. It seemed somewhat strange that it just sat there, apparently unafraid, and watched her. She prayed that the calm acceptance she sensed in the animal was because it instinctively trusted her and not because it was so close to death it had no more strength to fight.

Cormac watched the boys until he was sure they weregone and had no intention of retaliating. Then he turned back to watch Elspeth. “Ye shouldnae get so close. He could be maddened with pain and hurt you.”

“’Tis just a cat,” she said, still keeping her voice low and calm as she held her hand out, palm up, for the cat to study and sniff as it pleased. “It may give me a few nasty scratches, but it cannae kill me. Nay like a dog could.”

“That beast is near as big as a dog. Mayhap I should just put it out of its misery.”

“The poor laddie is miserable, but I dinnae think he is so bad he must be killed.” She flashed Cormac a brief happy smile when the cat licked her fingers and then stuck his big head under her palm so that she could scratch his battered ears.

“What is that noise?”

“’Tis the cat. He purrs.” She took a cloth out of her herb bag and gently wrapped it around the cat before picking it up. “Ah, my poor, sad laddie. Be at ease. I will tend all your hurts,” she murmured as she stood with the cat in her arms.

“Elspeth, please tell me that ye arenae intending to keep that brute.” Cormac sighed when she just stared at him as if she expected him to understand. “’Tis but a cat, Elspeth.”

“He likes me. I have to get him somewhere I can clean him and tend to his wounds. The poor wee thing has dozens of them. Are we to stay at the inn?”

“Aye, I sent the stable boy to secure us a room.” He sighed again when he saw that she was not going to release the foolish cat and gently nudged her ahead of him out of the alley. “He willnae stay, especially if ye try to clean him.”

Elspeth allowed Cormac to escort her to the inn. She knew Cormac would not understand why she had to keep the cat. She already knew it would break her heart to lose the animal, and the cat seemed to have decided that she was his. The animal should have fled the moment the boys had turned their attention to her, but it had not. It had sat there quietly, watching her discipline its tormentors and waiting for her to claim him.

The moment they stepped into the inn, Cormac was hailed by two men. Their abrupt greeting startled her and she felt Cormac tense at her side. The cat also tensed, pressing itself closer to her chest. Elspeth suspected it would be a long time before the cat accepted men. Its experience in the alley, and probably elsewhere, had taught it that the males of the world were not to be easily trusted.

“Cormac, good to see ye, old friend,” said a tall blond man as he lightly slapped Cormac on the back.

“Aye,” agreed a plumper, shorter, and much darker man. “We hadnae thought to find ye until we got to court.” After vigorously shaking Cormac’s hand, he turned to smile at Elspeth. “Introduce us, Cormac.”

Cormac was glad to see his friends. They were good men. He had fought alongside Sir Owen MacDunn and Sir Paul MacLennon several times. He was not, however, glad to introduce them to Elspeth. They were looking at her too intently and seemed too pleased to be doing so. Reluctantly, he made the introductions, scowling when, because she was holding the cat, she offered the two men her cheek to kiss in greeting.

“I didnae ken ye were wed now, Cormac,” said Sir Owen, absently brushing a lock of his fair hair off his face.

“Or betrothed, either,” said Sir Paul as he cautiously reached out one slightly plump hand to pat the cat, his hazel eyes widening at the huge purr that erupted from the animal.

“He isnae either,” Elspeth said, blushing faintly, but determined to tell the truth, if only to stop Cormac from doing so in a way that could easily be a little too blunt and painful for her taste. “We travel together to the court.” She was a little surprised at the depth of the disappointment that briefly showed in their expressions.

“Wait here,” Cormac told them. “I will go and see about our room, Elspeth.”

“He is still running after that cursed bitch Isabel,” snapped Paul after Cormac
walked away.

Somewhat stunned at the hard anger in the very amiable-looking man’s voice, Elspeth said quietly, “I fear so. Although, at the moment, I have succeeded in slowing his pace a great deal.” When both men looked at her and smiled with blatant approval, she smiled back. “For now, he seems to have forgotten his urgent need to get to her before she is married again.”