Highlanders (17 page)

CHAPTER TWELVE

T
HE
FIRST
SIGN
that something was wrong was the loud, gurgling noises that echoed through the main room. Everyone ignored them at first, but soon all three of the men who’d eaten the stew Elizabeth had made for their midday meal were affected in the same way.

James had eaten only a thick porridge made from oats, since Elizabeth recommended it to him to regain his strength. He’d almost ignored her advice until she glared at him from behind Dougal’s back. Now, as the clear signs of impending distress grew stronger, he was glad he had.

Elizabeth, who had been cleaning the bedchamber and gathering her clothes while her brother and the others ate, entered the room then. She nodded with her head toward his chambers and he followed that advice, too. When she joined him on the pretense of helping him pack for the trip planned on the morrow, she wore a nefarious expression on her face.

“What did you do? Serve them spoiled meat?” he asked in a whisper.

“Spoiled meat? Nay,” she said, gathering the bags she’d already packed and bringing them to the door. “I used Old Muireall’s sleeping potion.” She pointed to the bottle still on the table there. Her eyes grew wide and she shook her head, looking horrified.

“A sleeping potion? That was a great idea,” he admitted. Easier to sneak away than to try to fight off the three warriors. If they slept or were at least groggy, they had a chance of escaping. “But the noises? Their stomachs?”

She faced him now and he knew something had gone wrong.

“I gave them her purgative by mistake, Jamie.”

From the sounds in the other room now, she’d given them a large dose of a powerful purgative. Dougal began to wail. Soon, all three men were in the throes of the effects of the medicine. James grimaced at the sounds until he heard the door crash open and all three ran out.

“Well, you cannot change it now. They will be unable to follow us? For some time?” he asked her.

“For hours and hours,” she said. “I never meant...”

“They’ve been in their cups before. It will not be much different from that. It gives us time to escape.” He bent to grab the bags from the floor but could lift only one. “And we will need an excess of time, it seems.”

“This will be more than that, Jamie. That medicine works in many ways.”

He thought his stomach clenched then as he realized her meaning. “They will live?”

She nodded, then continued to gather the important things that he could not lift and followed his slow pace out into the main room. Still deserted, they walked through and out. The horses had been hobbled in a small area behind the cottage, but they had to pass by Dougal, Niall and Shaw, who now writhed on the ground to reach them.

“You did this on purpose, did you not, Elizabeth?” Dougal asked between retchings.

“Dougal, I used the wrong potion. I am sorry,” she said as they walked by. “It will pass.” He could feel the pain and guilt in her voice. “Just do not drink anything but water until it does.”

“I was not taking you back to Connor, Elizabeth,” her brother moaned to them. “We were returning alone.” Any other questions were put aside as another wave of illness struck him.

James made his way to the horses and managed to get two of them saddled, but he was weak and sweating by the time he finished. To make it worse, the sounds from the three men were hard to ignore and soon he thought he would lose his meager meal, too. Elizabeth did not remain with her brother, instead she followed him back and helped him ready the horses.

It must have been an hour before he was able to mount the horse. First they thought of riding together so she could support him. Then they discussed taking two to make better time once they left the area. In the end, they took two and they began with a very slow walk. Each step the horse took made his ribs feel like they were breaking again. Only the very tight bindings Elizabeth had placed this morn kept him upright.

When he felt like falling off and laying in the road, he thought of her. Concentrating on riding through the village, he ignored everything and everyone else they passed. James managed to get into the horse’s rhythm and moved with it, so that each pace was not as jarring. Soon, they reached the place in the road where Dougal and the others had caught them.

He listened every moment for the sound of horses behind them and only when the priest’s dwelling and small forest chapel came into view did he allow himself to think this might work. He heard Elizabeth at his side and continued until they reached the front of the cottage. James wanted to help Elizabeth down from her horse, but that was the last thought he remembered until he woke and found her and an old man staring down at him.

“Ah, here he comes,” the old man said. “He is waking now.” Elizabeth touched his face and nodded.

“This is Father Ceallach,” she said. “We found him, Jamie.”

His vision faded in and out for several minutes. The priest held a small skin to his mouth and James took a drink, coughing when the strongest whiskey he’d ever tasted hit his throat. But then, the warmth of it reached his stomach and it felt good. Another swig and the skin disappeared.

“Ready, lad?” Father asked. But before he could answer aye or nay, the man gripped his arm and pulled him to his feet in one smooth motion. Stunned by the strength of the man, James pushed his hair out of his eyes and met a merry grin. “Come then, into the chapel.”

With the priest on one side holding him up and Elizabeth on his other, James found himself in a small church. Smaller than he’d ever seen before. Only a stone altar and a crucifix decorated the empty space. And a small lamp sat burning on the altar.

“Elizabeth said you wish to marry,” the priest said. “Is that your intention then?”

James nodded and received a frown in response from Father.

“You must speak the words, James Murray,” he advised.

“Aye, Father, I wish to marry Elizabeth MacLerie,” he said, meeting her gaze and seeing the love there.

“Elizabeth, is it your intention to take James Murray as your husband?”

“Aye,” she said softly, taking his uninjured hand in hers. “I wish to marry James Murray.”

“From the looks of you, lad, there are objections to this marriage? Who objects?” the priest asked. Although he did not want to reveal much, how could he lie to this priest? So, after Elizabeth nodded at him, he explained it simply.

“Connor MacLerie probably objects, but I have not asked him in the last five days. Elizabeth’s brother has objections, as well.” Would he refuse them the sacrament? Was this all for naught?

“And even in the face of those objections, you would take marriage vows?” Father looked at each of them. When they answered, they spoke as one.

“Aye.”

He placed his gnarled hand on theirs and asked them some questions, waiting for each to answer before asking the next.

“Will you have each other from now until death?

“Will you be faithful onto each other and to no other?

“Do you promise to honor and obey your husband, Elizabeth?”

There was a longer pause then as his Elizabeth seemed to hesitate to promise that, but she smiled and accepted the duty.

“Do you promise to cherish and honor your wife, James?” He did not hesitate.

“Aye, Father. I will do that.” The priest smiled then and placed his hand over their heads in a blessing.

“You have spoken your intention to marry and have said your vows to each other. In God’s name then, you are now husband and wife in His Sight. God be with you both.”

James stood in silence for more than a moment. After months of believing he would marry another woman, he was finally joined to the woman he loved. After choosing to defy his family and a powerful lord, they were married now and nothing could separate them. After living a life of following the rules and doing the right thing, passion and love had led him to her.

“Wife,” he said, lifting her hand to his mouth and pressing his lips against it.

“Husband,” she replied, turning his hand over and kissing his palm.

He would have reacted to such a kiss had the church not begun to spin and swirl around him. The only thing he saw was her face as he landed at her feet.

But, they were married and nothing else mattered.

* * *

I
T
WAS
THEIR
wedding night.

Elizabeth sat by the bed and watched him sleep. Considering that he could be dead several times over, she was content to be at his side. They’d been through more in this last week than she could have dreamt possible.

She must be a sinful person after all, for she sat here thinking on all the things they should be doing...all the things she wanted to do with him. When her body began to heat and ache in places he’d touched that night, she tried to think on something else.

Looking around for something to divert her attention, she found nothing in the old priest’s cottage to stop her wayward thoughts. He lived simply in this one room, though the comfortable bed was unexpected. The best thing was that it was larger than most beds to accommodate the priest’s large frame. She smiled thinking on his name—Ceallach—which meant
warrior.
From his size and strength, he must have served some earthly lord before becoming God’s.

He’d carried Jamie here as though naught but a bairn and placed him in the bed. Then, saying he had to visit a sick villager, he gave them leave to stay here until he returned in two days. His larder held food and supplies, which he also told her to make free use of. His last bit of instruction—to close the door and windows and not open them to anyone—forced her to remember that her brother would come here. And he would be furious after what she’d done.

Especially if he meant what he claimed, that he did not plan to force their return to Lairig Dubh. Well, if he had shared that bit of information with her sooner, it could have saved all of them much pain and suffering. She doubted that Dougal, Shaw and Niall would think of it like that, especially since it would be hours before their bodies calmed and the retching and other effects stopped.

Would they come here looking or would they return to the earl directly? No matter now, they were married and would face whatever challenges came together.

When night fell and he slept on, she took off her gown and slipped into bed at his side. It should have felt strange to do so. It did not. She had undressed him already so she carefully slid closer to him, laying her head against his shoulder. Sometime in the night, she woke to find him staring at her.

“You are here?” he asked, lifting his hand up to caress her cheek. “I thought it might have been a dream.”

“It happened. You spoke the words before the priest and we are married.” She touched his face then, outlining his chin and mouth.

“Where exactly are we?”

She smiled. He’d been unconscious when Father brought him in here. “In Father Ceallach’s cottage. He has gone off to visit some sick villagers and given us the use of it for two days.”

“Two days? A generous man, he is,” Jamie said.

Elizabeth could see that he was yet exhausted and in pain. Desire warred with practicality within her. Love won out and she leaned in and kissed him lightly.

“Rest now. I would have you able to enjoy what I have planned for you, husband.” She felt his flesh rise and press against her hip. And she laughed.

“I am not dead,” he said in a supremely masculine way.

If he would not have a care for himself, she would. She must. “Sleep now, Jamie. Heal. And if you feel this way in the morning, I will not stop you.”

There was honest acceptance in his eyes so she knew part of him might be ready but the rest of him would suffer. He took her hand in his and held it on his chest. In only moments, he slept, telling her how right she’d been.

They had the rest of their lives together and surely one night’s delay meant nothing.

In the morning, he proved to her that neither he, nor the rest of him, was dead.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Three months later

E
LIZABETH
WAS
HAVING
the most marvelous dream.

Jamie kissed her body and teased her to excitement with his mouth and hands. There was no place on her or in her where he had not touched and loved her since their marriage. Now, she ached and throbbed. She was on fire from his caresses. She lay on her back and opened herself up to him. Whatever he wanted to do, she would do it.

Not wanting to wake up from such a wondrous, hot dream, she kept her eyes closed tightly as he created that ache deep inside her that she did not want eased...yet. She would want his mouth there, in that scandalous way she’d never dreamt possible, licking her deep between her legs, suckling on that place that would make her scream.

And scream she did as her body wound tighter and tighter and tighter, and then released. Even as she cried out in the pleasure of this release, he began it anew with his fingers moving there as he skimmed his mouth over her body, kissing and laving her breasts on his path to her face. The musky taste of her own essence on his mouth forced her to open her eyes.

It was not a dream.

“Good morning to you, wife,” he whispered as he bit her neck gently. The feel of it made her arch against him as though a cord connected places within and he pulled on it with each touch and taste. “I wondered if you would sleep through all of it.”

“I think I like being awakened this way, husband,” she said, her voice rough from the first release. His fingers did not relent, not giving a moment for her body to cool.

“I know. You asked me to do it.”

She laughed then, unsure of whether she had or had not. He rolled her to her side so he could kiss her neck and use his teeth on that sensitive spot she liked him to bite. Elizabeth followed his whispered directions until he lay behind her, with his fingers still there, rubbing and making her want more. Soon, she could not laugh or speak. He used her own desires, telling her what he wanted to do to her, with her, on her, in her, until she lay panting and sweating against him.

He lifted her leg over his and entered her from behind, making her gasp at his speed and depth. With his hand wrapped around her, tormenting the already heated flesh there and his cock plunging deep from behind, she went limp in his arms as he pushed her to another peak. Just as she fell apart with her second release, he slid his arm around her and lifted her onto her knees.

Still deep within her, touching her core and making her scream again, he leaned over her, his chest against her back, one hand twisting the length of her hair in his fist and pulling her head back to him and exposing her neck to him. His mouth was hot, his teeth grazing the skin and seeking the tender spot again, knowing what it did to her.

He never stopped moving or touching or thrusting within her. It hurt to breathe, every place felt so wet and ready, she wanted him to make it happen. Pushing back and down against his cock to move him deeper, she heard him laugh against her skin.

“Not so fast, wife,” he taunted. “I am not ready to finish with you yet.”

Elizabeth did scream then, for instead of filling her, he withdrew from her just when the ripples of pleasure and release threatened inside of her.

“Jamie!” she cried out. “Now!” He held her steady as he laid on the bed next to her.

“Ride me, lass.”

He liked it when she climbed on him and was in control of the pace and timing. He liked it because he could watch her face as she reached that final peak. He liked it because he could reach up and touch and suckle her breasts as she moved over him.

He especially liked it when she shuddered and shook through her release after he rubbed his fingers between their bodies in that place she liked. It was swollen now from his mouth using it and it would take only a touch or two to push her over her edge. She climbed over his groin as he lifted his cock and let her ease down on it.

From the tight fit, he knew it would take him little to explode within her. She pulled her knees in close to his hips and began the torture he so loved. Her hair fell like a silken curtain around her body. As she arched and moved, her nipples peaked through, inviting his touch there. Leaning up, he took one then the other in his mouth and suck it hard, grazing his teeth over the tip until he heard her breathing change.

The muscles within her core began to tighten and he knew his seed would be filling her at any moment. His flesh swelled thicker and she pushed against him. Then he held her hips and thrust deep once and again and a third time until he exploded.

It was some moments before either one could speak or breathe. Elizabeth collapsed on his chest and James wrapped his arms around her. When their hearts calmed, he brought her to his side and drew the bedcovers up over them.

Mornings were colder now and frost greeted them most days. Winter would be on its way to these lands soon. He would not mind it this year for it would bring them closer to the birth of their first child.

James had noticed the changes in her body almost before she did, beginning with the ones to her nipples and breasts. Now, her waist thickened and soon she would be ripe and full of his child.

The child he wanted to be born in his home. He needed to try to make peace with his father...and with Connor first.

Though unsure of her welcome, she understood his need to return to his home and make things right with his parents. In these last few months, they had hidden in plain sight, remaining here in the village and working as any other married couple would. James learned the skills of the blacksmith and Elizabeth kept house and cooked. The witch had lied about that—she was a skilled cook though he was certain her brother would disagree.

He’d seen Dougal a few times when he rode through the village on the earl’s business, but he’d never drawn attention to himself. Through some of the villagers, he’d learned that Tavis had indeed claimed Ciara as his wife, even before learning of James’s actions. If Connor allowed it, there was hope that he would not object too much to his and Elizabeth’s marriage.

And today was the day they would begin their journey back to discover the true situation.

“Beth, my love,” he whispered to her. “We must get ready for our journey.”

She mumbled something and rolled to her other side.

“Everything is packed and ready. It all waits only for us.” She lifted her head and glanced at him.

“And you are ready to return?” she asked, sliding from the warmth of the bed and beginning to dress. “What do you think Connor will say?”

“He cannot pull us apart,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her close. That was her biggest worry. “He allowed Ciara to marry Tavis—a good sign, that.”

“What about your parents?”

“They will come to love you as I do. If they want their grandchild born in their home, and I think they will, they will accept us together.” He kissed her as he stood next to her. “Oh, there will be some rough days, but with you at my side, we will get through it.”

Within hours, they were on the road north and west toward the center of the MacLeries’s lands and his main stronghold. More than that, they rode together into the life they’d been bold enough to claim for themselves.

Love, he thought, made everything simple.

* * *

C
ONNOR
STOOD
IN
his favorite place, watching the couple enter through the gates of Lairig Dubh. He knew who they were and knew they would arrive this morn. As he observed them, he took note of the way, he reached out to touch her hand often as they rode to the keep. He saw how others in the yard caught sight of them and stopped to watch them go by.

Duncan and Rurik called out to him as they crossed the battlements to reach him. He waited for them before going into the hall to greet James Murray and his wife on their arrival here.

“You knew, did you not?” Duncan asked.

“I own the village. Of course, I knew,” he answered. “The priest earns his living from my generosity. I knew when they arrived there, the trouble they had and knew when they married.”

“And you did nothing to stop them?” Rurik asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“We’d secured the agreements we wanted from his father based on his leaving Ciara at the altar. I agreed to pay Elizabeth’s dowry since she is my kin. If the boy was bold enough to claim her in the old style, who am I to stop him?”

Connor laughed then, for neither one of his closest friends knew if he jesting with them or telling the truth. Or if his wife had just softened his heart to the plight of the young lovers. It mattered not, for everything had been settled in his favor and the results pleased him.

Elizabeth, who had faltered once before, had survived it and had found a good husband in James Murray. A wedding between James and Ciara would have been a disaster, so his precipitous elopement had, in some ways, saved Connor’s arse. Though he would never admit such to anyone.

Connor was about to head into the keep when a scream echoed across the yard and drew him to a stop. Ciara ran across the inner yard towards James and Elizabeth, screaming out the girl’s name. She’d gotten a start ahead of Tavis, who followed her. Without realizing it at first, Connor held his breath, waiting to see how this encounter would go. The scream was not a good sign.

And, as he had been before, he was wrong once more.

Ciara reached them first and threw her arms around Elizabeth, hugging her and rocking side to side. She drew back, said something else to the lass and then they were both screaming and crying together. Tavis stopped a pace or two away and Connor could tell the moment that the two men involved saw each other.

One spoke to the other and back again and Connor could feel the tension even from his place high on the wall. Had he been wrong?

James held out his hand to Tavis, who took it without hesitation. Then Ciara hugged James as Elizabeth hugged Tavis.

“Well, as I said, it would all work itself out.”

He turned and walked away, knowing that it had indeed all worked out. His wife would say it was all due to love, but she was softhearted, as most women were. He knew it was because they each made the right choices.

But, even the Beast of the Highlands knew he could be wrong once in a while. As he was in this.

* * * * *

If you loved
“The Forbidden Highlander”
by Terri Brisbin, don’t miss
AT THE HIGHLANDER’S MERCY,
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