Loving A Highlander (9 page)

She arched a brow.  “What do you want to do with me?”

Gerard’s grin was wicked.  “Oh, I can think of a long list of things I would like to do with you, lass, but something tells me Rowan would give me a stern talking to if he ever found out.  In case you haven’t noticed, the laird is quite protective of his people.”

Isabella didn’t answer, but reached up to pull him down for another kiss.  She was tired of talking.  Tired of hearing how much he wanted her with no action behind his words and tired of the constant ache she felt in his presence.  She needed him and she needed him now.

Gerard growled, but didn’t push her away.  He deepened the kiss as he lifted her in his arms and placed her on the bed.

Isabella briefly thought that this was her marriage bed, the one she had shared with Owen, but decided it didn’t matter.  The only thing that mattered was the man in her arms and the passion in his eyes as he removed her clothing.

“God, how I want you.  I’ve wanted you from the first moment I laid eyes on you,” he rasped as he stared down at her nakedness spread out before him.  He began to kiss his way down her body, pausing to place a lick here and a nip there.

Isabella squirmed underneath his ministrations.  “The first time you saw me, you thought I was an angel and you were in heaven.”

Gerard paused between her thighs.  His grin was wicked as he gazed at her.  “You mean you aren’t an angel, lass?” he asked, leaning forward to give her a long lick.  “You taste like what I imagine an angel would taste like.”

A moan tore from Isabella’s lips as he licked her again and she reached down to fist her hands in his hair, bringing him up to her.  “Tasted a lot of angels, have you?”  She attempted to smile, but moaned when he sank his fingers inside of her.

“No, lass,” Gerard said solemnly, as he began to move his fingers deep within her.  “Only you.”

Isabella hands fisted in the sheets as her passion began to build.  With every stroke he took her higher until she could stand it no more.

“Gerard,” she panted, her voice strained.

“Aye, Bella?” he said, as he watched her closely.  Watched the emotions flicker across her face.

“I need you,” she whimpered.

And then he was there, moving between her thighs and entering her with a single thrust.

Isabella clung to him as he began to expertly move.  Thrusting into her so forcefully that the bed swayed and groaned beneath them.  “Goddess, help me,” she gasped, as one last thrust reached her core and she shattered in his arms.  A moment later, he found his release as well and sank down on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms and showering her face with soft kisses.

“God, help me,” he groaned as he pressed a kiss to her lips.  “What am I going to do with you, Bella?”

“Love me,” she whispered softly.  For a moment she thought he hadn’t heard her, but then he stiffened in her arms and pulled away.  A rush of cold air swept across her bare skin where just a moment before his warmth had been.

He refused to look at her as he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the far wall.  After a few minutes, he rose and quickly dressed and then nodded in her direction.  “Get your clothes on, lass,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion.  “We need to return to the castle.  I have work that needs to be done.”

Isabella was numb as she dressed.  It was obvious the maids had been right.  She was only a way for him to pass the time and once he was finished with her, he no longer had a use for her.

“Hurry, Bella.”  Gerard refused to look at her as he walked to the door.  “Play time is over,” he said, before stepping out into the pouring rain.

Isabella felt as if she had been slapped.  Play time; that was all she was to him, a toy he could use for his amusement.  The best thing she could do for herself was stay in the cottage and let him ride away.  But she knew the thought was useless.  Gerard wouldn’t leave her in the cottage.  He may not have a use for her other than warming his bed, but he wouldn’t leave her behind, of that she was certain.

With a sigh, she took one last look at the cottage before following him out into the pouring rain.

Chapter

Eight

One week later.

Isabella stepped out of her bedchamber and stopped as two women passed by.  Dressed in fine clothes, they were members of the large party of guests that had arrived at the castle the night before.

              Isabella smiled and said hello, but the women ignored her as they continued on down the corridor.  Their words floated back to her.

              “I can’t believe a man such as Gerard Mackenzie would ever take up with a mere peasant,” the younger woman said, as she turned to look at Isabella over her shoulder.

              “Hush, now,” the older woman soothed.  “You know Gerard is just dallying with her.  Let him play.  He will soon tire of her and move on to a woman who is more socially acceptable.”

              Isabella’s cheeks flooded with color as she followed the women down the corridor and to the stairs leading to the floor below.  She had never considered herself to be a peasant, even though she hadn’t much money and until she met Gerard, had never known a man who was a member of the nobility.

              She reached the ground floor and instead of turning and walking into the Great Hall, the direction the women had gone, she sailed to the entryway and out into the watery sunshine of the winter day. With the women’s words still ringing in her ears, Isabella marched toward the lists where she could hear the loud commotion of men training.

              Isabella stopped when she reached the small clearing at the side of the castle.  She sat down on a large rock and watched a group of men a few feet away.  Two of the men were facing off and the sound of clashing swords rang out on the breeze.

              The men parted and Isabella was able to get a view of the combatants.  Gerard and Rowan scowled at each other as they circled, both of them calling out playful taunts as they lunged and dodged.

              Isabella laughed and clapped her hands as Gerard, with a carefully aimed strike, dislodged the sword from Rowan’s hands causing it to sail through the air and land with a thud at her feet.

              She heard the sound of running feet as she stared at the sword in front of her.  The wicked looking blade glinted in the morning sun and she briefly wondered how many lives had ended by its sharp thrust.

              She looked up in time to see Gerard halt in front of her.  From the thunderous expression on his face, she could tell he wasn’t pleased.

              “What on earth are you doing, woman?” he roared, loud enough to wake the dead in the nearby cemetery.  “You could have been killed.  At the very least, injured.”  Gerard thrust a hand through his hair.

              “I’m sorry, m’lord,” Isabella said sarcastically, as she rose to her feet.  They had said little to each other since the incident in the cottage and she was still angry.  She picked up the sword, it was heavy in her grasp, and handed it to him.  “I didn’t know I would be in the line of fire.”

              “Don’t call me lord,” he snapped.

              “Ignore him,” Rowan said, as he walked up to stand beside them.  He flashed Isabella his most charming grin before continuing.  “It appears as if my cousin needs to learn some manners.”

              “My manners are fine,” Gerard grumbled.  “Or they would be, if I didn’t have to worry about a female who is constantly risking her pretty, little neck.”

              “You worry about me?”  Isabella couldn’t hide her look of surprise.  She would have thought she would be the last thing on his mind.  Especially since a large party of guests had arrived, including several beautiful women.

              Gerard rolled his eyes in response.  “Of course I worry about you, who knows what kind of trouble you would get into if let to your own devices.”

              Rowan only laughed and slapped his cousin on the back.  “I think the nights you have spent sleeping on the hard floor in front of Isabella’s bedchamber door are wearing on you, cousin.  Your disposition has turned extremely sour.”

              Isabella’s eyes widened as she stared at Gerard.  “You sleep in front of my room?”

              Gerard scowled as he shot Rowan a dark look.  He gave a curt nod, but refused to look at her, instead choosing to stare out over the rolling landscape.

              Isabella tugged on his hand, willing him to meet her gaze.  “Why?” she asked softly.  In the cottage, he had acted as if he didn’t care, but a man who didn’t have feelings for her wouldn’t sleep on the floor in front of her bedchamber door. 

              She shook her head to clear it.  Her mind was a muddled mess around him and since their time in the cottage, confusion was her normal state.

              Gerard’s expression softened and he sighed.  “I think it would be obvious, lass.  You are far too lax when it comes to your own safety.  More than once, I have checked your bedroom door at night and found it unlocked.”

              “You care?” Isabella arched her brows.  “I find that hard to believe since you have gone out of your way to prove otherwise.”

              “Of course, I care,” Gerard replied gruffly.  “I’m offended that you think I don’t.”

              Rowan appeared amused as he looked from one to the other.  “I’m going to resume my training,” he said, as he grinned at both of them.  “Join us when you are ready, cousin.”

              He turned to Isabella.  “My lady,” he said, giving her a deep bow, before sauntering back across the grass.

              A smile played about Gerard’s lips as he watched Rowan depart.  “It appears as if you have won the laird over,” he said, as he studied Isabella.  “And that, let me assure you, is no easy task.”

              Isabella watched the laird as he laughed and talked with the other men.  She smiled.  From what she had observed during her short time here, the laird was strict, but fair.  A hard worker, he expected no less from his servants and clansmen.  He provided food for their bellies and a roof over their heads and expected loyalty in return.

              Aye, the laird was a fine figure of a man to be sure and Isabella sighed dreamily as she watched the man train.

              “My cousin is a married man,” Gerard growled, as he noticed the expression on her face.  “And he loves Eva dearly.  I hate to spoil your plans, but Rowan won’t stray.  He loves his wife and children far too much to ever place his marriage in jeopardy.”

              Isabella’s eyes widened in surprise as she heard the note of jealousy laced through Gerard’s words.  “Believe me,” she said testily, so that only he could hear.  “I have no designs on the laird.”

              Gerard studied her for a minute.  Then, as if deciding she was telling the truth, nodded.  “Aye, lass, I can see that now.”

              “Does it matter to you?” Isabella asked, staring up into his handsome face.  Their gazes caught and held and she could feel her heartbeat quicken.

              Gerard reached out to trail a finger lazily down her cheek.  “You know it does, Bella,” he said, in a voice rough with emotion.  “The only man I want those pretty blue eyes of yours focused on and those long legs of yours wrapped around, is me.”

              Isabella opened her mouth to respond, but he was already striding away from her across the expanse of deadened grass to rejoin the men.  “You are a handsome man, Gerard Mackenzie,” she whispered softly as she watched him.  “And any woman would be lucky to win your heart.”

Chapter

Nine

Isabella followed the sounds of laughter that echoed down the corridor.  She turned a corner to find the laird playing with his son outside of the nursery.  A smile lit Rowan’s face as he rolled a wooden toy back and forth on the floor with his son, Nicholas.

Anne twirled excitedly around them as she watched her father and brother play.  She sang a little song as she danced and then giggled when her father reached out an arm to give a hug.

“Anne, stop.”  Rowan laughed, as he released his daughter and she began spinning again.  “It is making me dizzy just watching you.”

Isabella smiled as she took in the cozy scene.  The laird was a man who loved his family dearly, that was evident for all to see.  She only hoped that someday she would find a man who would be a good husband and father.  And then she might once again have a family to replace the one she had lost.

Maybe you already have found such a man. 
A voice inside her head whispered, but Isabella brushed it aside.  Gerard Mackenzie’s station in life was far above hers and it would be best if she didn’t forget it.

Lost in thought, Isabella walked down the corridor leading to the solar.  She jumped when a man stepped out of the shadows, blocking her path. 

Errol, the laird’s constable, gave her an oily look.  “You don’t belong here, lass,” he said, as he looked down his long thin nose at her.  “You are taking advantage of the laird’s kind heart and I intend to put a stop to it.”

Isabella looked around for help.  Usually this particular corridor in the castle was bustling with activity at this time of day, but this time it was deserted.

She tilted her chin and prepared to sweep passed the rude man, but a vicelike grip closed around her forearm and he tugged her into an unused bedchamber and shut the door.

Errol pressed her backward until she was against the wall.  His hand slid up to fondle the globe of her breast through the thin material of her gown as he bent his head to bury his face in her cleavage.

“Ah, you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he rasped, as his tongue snaked out to lick the indentation between her breasts.  “I’m beginning to see why the Captain of the Guard is so fond of you.”  He gave her another lick as she squirmed.  “Why he warned all of his men to stay away from you.”

Isabella fisted a hand in the man’s greasy hair and gave it a sharp pull. 

Errol raised his head and glared at her.  “What’s wrong with you?  My coin is as good as the next man’s.  I will pay you well for your services.”

Bile rose in Isabella’s throat and using all of her strength, she pushed him away from her and bolted for the door.  She reached it just in time and managed to slip through with Errol hot on her heels.  Unlike before, the corridor was crowded now and several heads turned in their direction.

“Leave me alone,” she hissed, as she glared up at the constable, who was regarding her with a look of pure hatred.  “Or I will tell the laird about your behavior.”

The constable gave a short laugh.  “What are you going to tell him?  Anything you tell him, I will just deny.”  His eyes glittered.  “I have known the laird for many years.  I can assure you that he will take my word over yours.”  He pressed close her.  “You are nothing but a filthy little whore and it would be wise if you remembered your place.  The Captain of the Guard might have taken a fancy to you, but he will soon grow tired and you will have to look elsewhere to earn your coin.”  His gaze raked her from head to toe.  “I’m certain my advances and my coin will be welcome then.”

Isabella was relieved to see Ethan turn the corner and head toward them.  He frowned when he spotted the constable and sent a questioning glance her way.  “Is this man bothering you, Isabella?” he asked, spearing the constable with a dark look.

Isabella could feel the weight of the constable’s stare.  “No,” she lied.  “Everything is fine.  I was just on my way to the solar and the constable stopped to have a word with me.”

“Ah,” Ethan said, stepping aside.  “If nothing is wrong,” he said, shooting her another questioning glance, “then I will let you proceed.”

Isabella turned without another word and with her heart in her throat, continued down the corridor to the solar.  She could feel the weight of Errol’s stare on her back and when she reached the solar door, she turned.  Errol was standing where she had left him, but Ethan was nowhere in sight.  As she watched, the constable reached up a hand to drag a finger slowly over his throat.

It was a chilling warning to her that she had better keep her mouth shut and with her heart pounding, Isabella opened the solar door and slipped inside.

Eva was seated by the window, taking advantage of the weak light as she worked on her embroidery.  She looked up as Isabella entered.

“Has something happened, Isabella?” she asked, as she sat her project aside.  “You look frightened.”

Isabella took a shuddering breath as she tried to calm her racing heart.  She could hear the constable outside the solar room door as he spoke to one of the noblemen.

“Nothing is wrong,” Isabella said, straightening her shoulders.  There was no need to get the laird’s wife involved in a situation she could easily handle herself.

Eva gave her a look that said that she clearly didn’t believe her, before turning to the other women in the room.  “Would you mind giving us a moment of privacy?”

She waited for the other women to gather their things and exit the room before folding her arms and fixing Isabella with a determined look.  “I wasn’t born yesterday, Isabella.  It is clear as the nose on my face, that something has gotten you upset.”

Isabella sighed and knew she couldn’t avoid the question.  “I was stopped by the constable on the way here.”

“Errol?”  Eva looked surprised.  “Why on earth did he want to speak to you?”  She gave a mock shiver.  “Between you and me, I can’t stand the man.  He always looks as if he is up to something, but he is Rowan’s right hand man, so I guess he is to be tolerated.”

“He didn’t want to speak to me,” Isabella said softly, so that her words didn’t carry through the wooden door and into the corridor where Errol still stood, no doubt listening.

Eva looked confused.  “If the constable didn’t wish to speak to you, what did he want?  Oh…” she breathed, as her eyes widened.  She moved to Isabella’s side.  “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No,” Isabella said, as her heart rate resumed its normal rhythm.  “He touched my breasts once or twice, but I was able to get away before he did anything else.”

Eva gasped and then her eyes flashed with anger.  “I will tell Rowan about this,” she promised.  “He won’t tolerate that kind of behavior from a man who is in his employ.”

“Please, don’t,” Isabella pleaded, as she remembered the cold look in the constable’s eyes.  “It will only make things worse.  I’m certain he won’t attempt it twice.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Eva murmured, as she thought over the situation.  “A man like that doesn’t give up easily.”

She looked Isabella in the eyes.  “At least let me tell Gerard,” she said firmly, as if she already had her mind made up.  “He would wish to know about the constable’s actions.”

Isabella nodded.  The thought of Gerard having a word with the horrible man was oddly comforting and her shoulders relaxed.  “Aye,” she relented, “you can tell Gerard.”

It was later that evening when Gerard sought her out.  He pulled her into the passageway leading to the kitchen and the larder beyond.  “Why didn’t you tell me the constable was making unwanted advances toward you?” he growled.

“He wasn’t,” Isabella said, as she freed her arm from his grasp.  “Today was the first time and I handled it.”

“And it will be the last time,” Gerard said in a voice laced with anger.  “I have spoken to the man and warned him that if he so much as lays a finger on you, he will regret it.”

Isabella opened her mouth to tell him that the constable had already laid a finger on her and worse, but then decided against it.  She wouldn’t have the murder of a man on her conscience, no matter how much she detested him.

“How will he regret it?  What will you do?” she asked, as curiosity got the better of her.  She suspected Gerard had done far more than give the man a vague warning.”

Gerard frowned.  “A little blood thirsty, aren’t you, lass?  I told the constable if I find out he has harmed you in any way, I will hang him from the iron hooks on top of the tower.”

Isabella’s eyes widened as she pictured the gruesome scene.  “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, aye, Bella,” he said, deadly serious.  “I most certainly would.  Trust me, the constable didn’t doubt the sincerity behind my words.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.  “I can rest easy now, knowing that there won’t be any strange men creeping into my bed chamber in the middle of the night.”

Gerard gave her a half smile.  “The only man I want in your bed chamber in the middle of the night is me.”  He leaned down to place a kiss on her lips.  “Don’t you forget it, Bella, you are mine.”

His words echoed in the passageway long after he had departed.   Isabella sighed as she prepared to follow him, but was stopped by a tap on her arm.  She turned to find a scullery maid standing behind her.

Isabella had seen the young woman before and had even said hello to her a time or two, but that had been the extent of their conversation.  The young woman was gazing in the direction Gerard had gone.  She wore a soft smile on her face and would have been pretty if her cheeks hadn’t been streaked with dirt as if she had been crying.

“I heard you talking to the captain of the guard, m’lady,” the young woman whispered.

Isabella nodded, curious as to why the woman wished to speak to her.  Clearly it had something to do with Gerard and her interest was piqued.

“Aye, I was speaking to him,” she replied, wondering how much of the conversation the woman had overheard. 

“You were speaking about the constable,” the woman continued.

Isabella inclined her head.  “We were.”  It was a known fact that the constable wasn’t well liked among the help.  He was quick to find fault and would often trap the maids in dark corners of the castle.

The maid cast a worried glance toward the kitchen before continuing.  “The constable is an evil man.”

“Aye,” Isabella said softly, looking around her for the subject of their conversation.  The constable had a habit of lurking about and always managed to pop up at the oddest moments.

“You would be wise to stay far away from him, m’lady,” the maid whispered. 

Isabella briefly wondered if the woman standing in front of her had been one of the unfortunate.  “Did the constable hurt you?” she asked, as her anger began a slow burn.  She would like nothing better than to track the constable down and give him a swift kick where it would hurt the most, but she knew Gerard would be furious if she went against his orders.

A part of her wanted to defy him, to illicit some kind of response from him.  It had been days since he had taken her to his bed and she was getting tired of spending the nights cold and alone.

The woman shook her head as tears filled her eyes.  “No, but the constable was part of a hunting party who assaulted my sister over a year ago.”

Isabella eyes widened and she waited for the woman to continue with her story.

“The party of noble men found my sister in the forest.  She was walking home after picking nuts and berries.”  There was a slight tremor to the maid’s voice as she spoke.  Tears streamed down her face.  “The men, led by the constable, took turns with her.  My sister was left bloodied and broken and with child.”

Isabella gasped in horror.  “What happened?  Surely the laird punished the men.”

The maid’s expression was sad.  “There is no justice to be had for our kind of people.  A noble man’s word is always believed over that of a peasant.”

Isabella thought about the constable with his oily hair and beady eyes and her blood boiled.  A man like that couldn’t be left to prey on the innocent.  Something needed to be done.

“I will speak to the laird.”

The maid’s eyes widened and she shook her head.  “You mustn’t.  It will only make things worse for us.  I only told you, because I wanted to warn you to stay away from the man.”  The woman turned and without another word, disappeared down the dark passageway in the direction of the kitchen.

Isabella thought about the constable.  He was up to no good, of that she was certain, and was evil to the core.