Jack: A Scottish Outlaw (Highland Outlaws Book 1) (10 page)

Her soul soared to the tops of the surrounding mountains. She breathed the fresh, crisp air and felt its elusive truth, untamed, unpredictable—and now, for the first time, so was she. She nudged her horse in the flanks, skirting jagged rocks and rugged, jutting slopes. Storm clouds gathered, climbing up the mountains. A crack of lightning sliced the sky, unleashing torrents of heavy rain. She threw her head back and cried out as wild as any creature ever to cross mountain or moor.

She looked back. Her father huddled beneath his cape but a smile stretched his face wide. He had been delivered up from his grief. This was a new world, one far from pain.

After a while, the dark clouds scattered, releasing the sun’s warmth and light. The road wound around craggy boulders and small forests of Scotch pine and then straightened, running alongside a large field left to fallow. At its edge, they passed a black smith’s forge. Black plumes of smoke coiled out from rooftop vents. Further down they came to a village green with a small, stone kirk at its center. Few people milled about the sleepy hamlet, but those who were crossing the green or bringing wheat to the mill beyond the kirk stopped and stared at Bella, Jack, and David.

“Yer clothes are too rich,” Jack said, under his breath. “Yer da’s, too.”

She looked down at her sodden yet fine tunic with its intricate embroidery and golden threads. Bella looked about. “Where is the tailor?”

He threw his head back and laughed. “There is no tailor, not for miles and miles. Bella, most people make their own clothes.”

She blushed while at the same time squaring her shoulders. “Then I must learn.”

“I think that a fine idea,” Jack said. “But it does not solve our immediate problem. Yer tunic invites suspicion.”

“True,” she said, looking about. Then she spied a young woman with a basket of laundry in her arms passing between two huts. She looked at Jack. “Wait for me at the outskirts of the village.”

Jack and her father exchanged skeptical glances. “What are you planning to do?” David said.

“Just go,” she said. When neither man moved, she scowled. “Fine, I will go.” She nudged her horse forward, following after the girl and her basket.

Bella spotted her near the edge of a field. She was laying out clothes on top of tall grasses. After the girl had emptied her basket, Bella waited until she was out of sight before scurrying into the brush to steal what they needed. She snatched a kirtle and tunic for herself and a pair of hose and tunic for her father. Then she dropped several coins into the pocket of an apron spread out under the fleeting sunshine. Her heart pounded as she ran back to her horse. Shoving the items into her bag, she pulled herself up into her saddle and made a dash for the road.

“Let’s ride,” she shouted, passing Jack and her father. She continued her race long after the village had disappeared from sight. God above, forgive her, but she felt incredible.

~ * ~

They rode until the sun began to dip in the sky. Jack led them to another village. This one was larger and offered accommodations for travelers.

“Thank goodness,” David said to Bella when Jack left them to talk to the proprietor of a bustling alehouse. “For the first time in years, my limbs are filled with vigor. Still, I do not believe I am quite ready to sleep out of doors.”

“Luck is on our side,” Jack said when he returned. “We’ve the last two rooms.”

A wave of relief passed over her father’s face the instant before his brows drew together with concern. “Prepare yourself, daughter. Our room is sure to offer little by way of comfort.”

Jack cleared his throat. “David, yer beddin’ down on yer own.”

Bella’s heart started to pound. She met Jack’s hot gaze. 

“But where do you intend to sleep?” David asked Jack, and then his breath caught as his eyes darted between Jack and Bella. “Surely, you do not intend to share a room with my daughter.”

Jack drew back a step. “That is exactly my intention.” He threw his hands out.  “But do not fash yerself. First, I plan to wed her.”

Bella looked at Jack. A shiver shot up her back, curling her toes. She could not draw breath. Her heart raced.

“That is…if ye’ll have me,” he said, his voice soft and low. He reached out and grazed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.

She threw her arms around his neck. “Nothing could make me happier.” But then, remembering her father, she stiffened and drew away. “Papa?” she said, her eyes pleading for him to understand her heart.

A scowl furrowed her father’s brow. In that moment, he was every bit Lord Redesdale; the relieved and spirited David had vanished. “Of all the offensive, improper….” His voice trailed off as he looked about the room, clearly scanning their rustic surroundings, the simple tables and coarse inhabitants. When he looked at her once more, his face had softened—David had returned. He stepped forward and cupped her cheek. “It seems my new life demands I relinquish control, a daunting but not unwelcome task. I have no qualms with the match if this is where your heart lies. He has proved himself to be an intelligent man of great heart. More than that, he clearly loves you.” He turned his gaze to Jack. “I could ask nothing more for my Bella.” Then his smile faded. “But forgive me for saying so, you do already have a lot of children.”

Bella laughed outright. “Jack’s lassies are not of his body, Papa. They are simply in his charge.” Once more her father appeared confused. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “When we have reached Colonsay, I will tell you everything.”

Her wedding was perfect with none of the pomp and frivolities of noble custom; they did not even stand for mass. She wore her stolen dress of homespun wool. Jack had made her a crown of wild flowers, which he had laid on her unbound hair. On her father’s arm, she walked the short length of the common room and stood in front of the local priest who, as fortune would have it, had been at one of the tables enjoying a mug of ale. In just a few short minutes, they were married, and she did not think she could have waited a minute more. The look of hunger in Jack’s eyes was a mirror of her own desire.

“Shall we feast?” David said, proudly pointing to a large spread of baked apples, stewed chestnuts, meat pies, bannock and ale. God above, but the last thing she wanted at that moment was to sit down and eat. She looked at Jack. The pulse at his neck raced. Her feet pointed toward the stairs. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Finally, she forced a smile to her lips and was about to thank her father and sit down when an old woman in a voluminous black cloak drew near.

“Can’t ye see they’re not hungry,” the old woman said to David. “At least not for food.” She turned and winked at Bella. She had soft, kind gray eyes and silvery hair pulled back from her face, which was creased with age. She sat down next to David. “As for me, well it has been a good while since I sat down to such a feast.” She reached for one of the small pies and took a bite. “Mmm, eel…delicious,” she mumbled as she chewed. Then she washed it down with a sip of ale. “Didn’t they have pigeon?” she asked.

Bella pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the appalled look on father’s face. First giving Bella a sly smile, the old woman then turned back to David. “Surely, you were young once,” she said with a wink.

“Would you believe that I was?” David said to her.

The old woman smiled. “I would. And I also believe you were once truly loved by a woman.”

A distant look clouded her father’s eyes, and a slight smile curved his lips. “Indeed, I was,” he whispered. Leaning back in his chair, he looked up at Bella. “I wish you both every happiness,” he said softly.  

Tears filled Bella’s eyes. “Are you certain, Papa?”

David nodded. “I will be fine.” Then he turned to the old woman at his side. “What is your name?”

“Gertrude,” she replied.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” David said before turning back to Bella. “Gertrude will keep me company.”

“Thank you, Papa,” Bella whispered.

Then she wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and lost herself in his black eyes.

~ * ~

Jack opened the door. She passed into the small room. With one sweep of her eyes, she took in the simple bed, table and two chairs, and small chest. And then the room was forgotten. The door slammed behind her. She whirled around and opened her arms just as he reached for her. He tore the flower crown from her head and sent it soaring across the room. Then his fingers dug into her hair, and he crushed her mouth against his. His tongue dove between her lips, unlocking her hunger. His hands cupped her cheeks and then her neck and then caressed down her shoulders. He tore his lips away. His black eyes were hard and heavy. He grabbed her tunic and yanked it over her head. Her kirtle quickly followed. She was bare to his midnight eyes. He drew a shaky breath and ran a finger slowly down her breast bone to her navel and then, slower still, sweeping his fingers across the curls at the apex of her thighs. Her legs trembled. Ache shuddered where he had touched. He stepped back and jerked free from his clothes. Her eyes raked over the hard lines of his chest and stomach. His smell surrounded her, drawing her in.

She reached out and grazed the crisp, black hair fanning across his chest. His breathing quickened, and his skin shone with sweat. She leaned close and pressed her lips to the hollow of his neck, savoring the salt taste of him. With a groan, he pulled her against him. Then he bent his head and breathed hot currents of air over her hardened nipples. She cried out when his teeth lightly bit down, drawing first one sensitive peak into his mouth and then the other. Moving his lips slowly down her stomach, his fingers pressed her thighs apart. He sank to his knees, gripped her buttocks and pulled the wet heat of her to his lips. She threw her head back and cried out as fire, hot and searing, coursed through her. Her breath hitched. She whimpered. Agonizing need begged her hips to tilt into his kiss. Cool air teased her desire when he pulled away and roughly grabbed her waist. He threw her down on the bed and covered her with his full weight, kissing her, fueling the flames of yearning. He grasped her hips so hard it hurt as, slowly, he pressed his hard, thick length inside of her. Her fingers bit into his shoulders. She flung her head back, arching her chest, writhing beneath him as he pumped his body into hers, each thrust harder than the last. She reached, climbing higher and higher until at last, her body seized. She shuddered around him as wave after wave of sweet relief coursed through her body. 

~ * ~

Bella awoke to Jack lightly tracing the tip of finger around the pink moon of her nipple. Through bleary eyes she smiled and nuzzled close to him. Then her eyes flew open. She sat up. “Something just occurred to me”

He rolled over onto his back and laced his fingers behind his head. “Aye? And what is that?”

She leaned out of bed and scooped her tunic off the floor. “I stole this.”

He smiled. “But we already knew that.”

She started to laugh.

“What is so funny?” he asked.

“You and I are married.”

He frowned. “Although I don’t see the humor in that, we are, indeed, married. There’s an alehouse full of witnesses able to attest to that fact.”

She could not contain her laughter.

“Are ye goin’ to tell me what ye find so amusin’, wife?”

She hiccupped and nodded. Reaching her arms around his neck, she said, “It just occurred to me that
I
am now a thief, an outlaw, a commoner, and a Scotswoman. You and I are now a perfect match.”

He smiled and pulled her closed. Then he rolled over, pushing her back onto the bed. “I hope this does not disappoint ye, but I believe my thievin’ days are over. In truth, ye married a fisherman.”

“I think that fine,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek. “But you will always be the thief of my heart.”

“And ye,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Will always be my princess.”

Jack gripped his fishing boat and bent low, pressing his shoulder into the stern. “Alright, lads, put yer backs into it,” he called to Ian and David who flanked the boat on either side. They trudged forward, the hull carving into the sand. Icy water lapped Jack’s calves until the waves receded, swallowing the shore out from beneath his feet. A moment later, the surf barreled forward, churning once more around his legs. This dance continued until they had moved the boat beyond the ocean’s hungry reach.

He straightened and stretched his back, then wiped at the beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Are ye well?” he said, sitting down on the sand next to David who was trying to catch his breath. David’s white hair stood on end in the wind. Dirt and dried salt streaked his ruddy face.

He looked at Jack warmly. “I would be lying if I said that I‘ve never felt happier. However, if I cannot have my Annunziatta at my side, then I can tell you with the greatest sincerity, there is no place I would rather be.”

Jack smiled and fell back in the sand. The hot summer sun had begun to dip behind the horizon, making way for cool evening breezes, which poured off the waves. The music of the calm ocean matched the beat of his heart.

“Look,” Ian called. “Here they come.”

Jack sat up. His lassies splashed through the ebbing waves while Bella and Rose walked a little behind, both with deep baskets strapped to their backs to carry the day’s catch back to their croft. A slow smile curved Jack’s lips as he watched Bella approach. Water lapped her bare feet. The wind whipped her tunic against one side of her body, hugging her curves. His eyes traced along the outline of her sleek waist and the flare of her hip. Her hair, streaked with pale gold, lashed out behind her, lifting and tangling the in salty air. Her eyes locked with his. A smile, sweet and sensual, curved her lips as she drew closer. When she reached his side, she sank to her knees and pulled the basket from her shoulders. Then she lay her head on his chest. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her, more precious to him than anything he could have ever imagined. He wrapped his arm around her and stroked her hair.

She raised her head and looked at him, her pale green eyes luminescent next to her skin now deeply tanned by the sun. He grazed his fingers down her soft cheek and throat, then slowly over her shoulder. He frowned when he noticed a hole in the sleeve of her tunic.  He absently picked at the frayed threads.

“Do ye miss yer life the way it was?” he said. “Yer fine tunics and servants.”

Her eyes widened for an instant and then grew serious. She cupped his cheeks between her hands. “You listen to me, Jack MacVie. All I want is you.” She sat up and pointed to Rose and the lassies trying to get as close to the waves as they could without getting wet. “And them,” she said, laughing. Then she jumped to her feet and spread her arms wide, smiling up at the heavens. “And this,” she cried. “Sandy shores, crashing waves, Jura’s mountains in the distance.” She plunked down in the sand once more and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to lay back on the sand.

“Look,” she cried. He followed her outstretched arm, pointing to the sky at a golden eagle soaring into the clouds. Then she touched his cheek, drawing his gaze. Her warm breath caressed his skin. “Thank you,” she whispered. 

“For what,” he asked, his voice low.

“For giving me a wonderful life.”