MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles (13 page)

“Thank you,” Alistair said. “I could use a mug after the exchange I just had with my son.”

“What did ye learn?” Jasper prodded.

“MacDougal is out of town.”

Jasper sputtered, apparently choking on whatever drink he shared with Alistair. “Are ye sure?”

“Aye. James is staying at their castle, helping to protect the family while he is away.” Alistair slurped and slammed down his mug. “You should have seen the fancy weapon he threatened to cut my throat with.”

“How long will MacDougal be gone?”

“I know not and neither does James.”

“We have to move quickly then.” Jasper paused and gulped. “Ye need to go back and talk to yer son, find out if there is an opportunity for Cailin and Davina to be alone.”

“No need for that.” Alistair had a little too much confidence in his voice for Cailin’s comfort. “I just ran into the Gypsies and they’re preparing to celebrate the betrothal of James and Cailin. Strange enough, they’re the same Gypsies who told me—”

“When?”

“Huh? Oh, last year. Remember I told you—”

“Mate.” Jasper sighed. “Let’s not get distracted when yer revenge is finally at hand. When are they celebrating the betrothal?”

“Right you are. On the morrow, in the afternoon. And it will be at the Gypsy camp, in the open. They will surely have guards, though.”

“Bah!” Jasper exclaimed. “We just need to create a diversion to get everyone’s attention off of Davina and Cailin. Once we do that, we grab ’em.” A loud slapping caused Cailin to start. “Good work, Alistair. Angus will reward ye greatly.”

Cailin’s heart hammered against her ribs. She had lingered far too long. Guarding her steps carefully, she padded away from the cottage and navigated through the trees and wet leaves back to Blossom. She checked behind her and was relieved she was neither discovered nor followed, and swung up into the saddle.

Kicking her horse into a gallop, she headed toward the castle.
Angus has been planning another capture, but for how long? And Alistair…what has caused him to betray us like this? I have to get back and tell James what his father—
She yanked on the reins and looked through the trees, now closed behind her to conceal the cottage.

This was a rare opportunity she could not pass up. Pulling the amulet from her bodice, she ran her fingertip over the grooved surface of the strange markings. “So, Angus. If you wish to bundle me off again, you shall have more than you bargained for.” She tucked the amulet under her chemise and turned her horse toward Jasper’s cottage.

After a few yards, though, she slowed to a halt. “Nay, I cannot just barge into that hut and state, ‘I am here. Take me to Angus!’ They will think I am setting them up for a trap.” She shook her head.
I must make them think they have succeeded with their plan.
She nodded, satisfied with her idea. “Come and get me, you bastard,” she hissed. “I am truly ready for you!”

Cailin dug her heels into Blossom’s side to return toward the castle and prepare for her capture on the morrow.

* * * * *

Margeret shook her head as she helped Cailin lace the back of her bodice. “I do not understand why you refuse to wear the other gown.” She peered over Cailin’s shoulder to glower at her reflection in the looking glass.

“Enough, Maggie,” Cailin scolded. “Knowing the Gypsies, there is sure to be plenty of dancing and merriment and I am not going to wear one of my better gowns. Not only will it get soiled with mud and sweat, but it will restrict my movements and my breath as well. I would like to enjoy this afternoon rather than end it by fainting into oblivion.”
Nor am I going to confine myself to a gown in which I cannot move freely enough to fight Angus.

The gown she wore was confining enough as it was, though she did choose one that did not require layers of underskirts. Instead, her cream-colored chemise draped to the floor and peeked through the front opening of the dark-green brocade outer skirt. The bodice of the same green brocade hugged her ribcage and waist before dipping into a “V” in front. Margeret tied forest-green ribbons, blousing the sleeves at her elbows first, then at her wrists, in a practical arrangement that was also attractive.

Cailin tugged at the slits in the gown sleeves to pull portions of the chemise through for the accenting contrast of the two fabrics. The entire ensemble was trimmed in ivory ribbon, lace and embroidery all done by her mother’s delicate hands. She eyed the perfect stitches with envy.
Once Angus is dead, I will have plenty of time to perfect my skills.

“What troubles you child?” Margeret leaned around Cailin with a furrowed brow.

She plastered a smile to her mouth and faced her handmaid. “Nothing, Maggie.”

Adjusting the chemise collar along the bodice’s neckline, Maggie attempted to cover Cailin’s cleavage. “’Tis quite all right to have apprehensions about such a memorable event.”

You have no idea, my dear sweet friend.
Cailin frowned and pulled her bosom up to swell over the chemise. “Truly, I am not nervous about wedding James. I just wish Da could be here for this.”
Not entirely untrue…

“Well, that is understandable.” Margeret returned the frown and yanked Cailin’s chemise higher for more modesty. She nodded her final position on the matter of how much bust Cailin should be exposing. A moment after disappearing into the wardrobe, she emerged with a pair of green, glass-beaded slippers.

“Oh, Maggie,” Cailin protested. “I do adore those shoes, but they refuse to stay upon my feet.”

“Nonsense! You look lovely in these shoes and they complement your gown so well.” Margeret knelt before Cailin and grabbed her ankle, slipped her foot into one shoe, then the other. “If you insist on wearing this moderate gown, you must at least dress it up with these slippers.” She rose to her feet and planted her fists upon her hips. “Go on, skip around the room,” she encouraged with a few waves of her hands.

Cailin sighed and grabbed handfuls of her skirts, obeying her handmaid. To her surprise, the slippers did not fall off. “Oh, very well.”

Guiding Cailin to the tapestry-covered stool, Maggie encouraged Cailin to sit before the looking glass. She proceeded to comb through Cailin’s auburn tresses that hung down her back. Margeret had just finished working out the tangles and split the hair into sections for braiding when a knock vibrated the chamber door. “I shall tend to that,” her handmaid announced and padded to greet the visitor. Cailin yanked her chemise back down to expose her bust. To her reflection, she nodded
her
final position on the matter.

“Is my lady dressed?” James’s deep voice swept through the room like a warm breeze. Cailin’s heart staccatoed in her breast.

“Aye, you may see her if you wish.” Margeret stepped aside, allowing James to enter the room.

Cailin stood and had to stop herself from gawking. Dark-brown hose hugged his muscular thighs above knee-high black boots formed over his calves, making her mouth water. Midnight-blue sleeves, bloused and laced at his shoulders, protruded from the matching brown brocade vest. Save for the cod piece at his groin—which Cailin found herself staring at a bit too long—and the billowing sleeves, his outfit left little to the imagination of his excellent and wondrously fit form. His baldric was slung over his right shoulder and hung diagonally across his chest, the sword her father presented him nestled at his trim hip. He looked magnificent. Her eyes finally met his. The roguish grin on his face told her he enjoyed her open admiration of his outfit.

Cailin cleared her throat. “Give us a moment, would you, Maggie?”

“My pleasure,” she said, and sat herself upon the settee at the foot of Cailin’s bed.

She tore her eyes away from James and glared at her handmaid. “We are hardly going to consummate our marriage in the few moments I am requesting. Please step out of the room.”

“I most certainly will not!”

Cailin marched over to Margeret and shooed her out of the chamber all the while saying, “James and I are to be wed in a just a few months. Even if he did toss my skirts, we are to be wed anyway! What difference does—”

“A pox on that mouth of yours, child!” She stood in the hallway, pointing that scolding finger. “We taught you better than—” Cailin closed and latched the door.

James dashed to Cailin and snatched her up, his hands on her bottom and wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her giggling to the bed. She screeched when she lost her shoe.

“I can guarantee,” his deep, husky voice promised as he nuzzled her neck, “that I can most certainly toss your skirts and consummate our marriage in just moments!”

Playfully beating his shoulder, she spoke through her laughter. “Behave, you rogue! She is going to break that door down if you do not cease your wonderful ravishing of my person.”

He pulled back and his eyes raked over her face and rested upon her neckline. Her belly fluttered wildly. “You look sweet enough to eat,” he growled and nibbled hot kisses over her swelling bosom.

An aching surged between her thighs and she made every effort to stifle her groans. His lips left a fiery wet trail over her fevered skin as he worked his way back to her neck. When his tongue seared a path over the shell of her ear, she gasped, clutching his shoulders and squeezing her legs around him.

“Cailin,” he breathed, sending more waves of heat across her body. “God’s blood, I love the way you respond to me!” His mouth sought hers, capturing her in a kiss that stole her breath. Grinding his erection against her mound, his groans mingled with her panting.

With every sweep of his tongue, every piece of her flesh he devoured with his mouth and hands, Cailin slipped deeper into passion…and deeper into despair. This was what she wanted—these breathtaking moments of amorous attention. This was what she craved and needed for her soul.

But…Angus Campbell.

Hovering in the blackness at the edge of their lives, her father’s enemy would haunt them, terrorize their happiness and shatter their dreams of having a family. She did not want their children living in the shadow of fear that had darkened her childhood. Cailin savored the taste of James’s sweet mouth. Burned the memory of his arms around her into her soul. If she died in the efforts to free their lives of Campbell’s menace, she would at least take these treasures with her to the grave.

As much as she did not want him to stop, she pushed at his shoulders. “James,” she protested between his kisses. “My darling, please.”

His lust-clouded eyes gazed at her, hooded and so very delicious. “I know, Mouse.” He kissed her again, leaving her thirsting for more. “I am speaking to your parents…we wed as soon as humanly possible.”

He seized her mouth in one more seeking kiss and groaned aloud as he pushed up off her body. Grabbing her hand, he helped her to her feet then bowed before her, the image of a perfect gentleman. The way his mouth made love to her palm, however, was very much the rogue who ravished her just seconds before. Her legs would surely collapse beneath her.

When he straightened from his bow, she stepped closer. “James, I…” She had asked for this time to communicate her heart to him, and yet the words would not come forth. How could she possibly express, in such a short span, the respect and love she held toward him? Since they met when she was but a child, that connection had deepened and, through the years, she cherished his opinion and their friendship. Now, standing before her, the man he had become made her grow weak in his arms and turned her into a puddle at his feet with just a kiss. However, if she did not survive this reckless venture, pouring her heart out to James would not be fair to him. She couldn’t bare her soul and make promises she may never be able to keep.

His palm cradled her cheek and he pressed his lips to her brow. “What is it, Mouse?”

“I…am…wondering if our wedding night will be as lovely as this.” Though a true statement, guilt plagued her for not speaking her mind, in spite of her convictions to save him pain.

James wrapped her in his arms with a seductive chuckle that made her tremble. “Oh, my little Mouse, this is only but a taste of what is yet to come.” He gazed at her with desire storming in his sea-green eyes. “I can promise you that.”

He cocked an eyebrow, ever the rogue.

* * * * *

Margeret cast darting glances of disapproval at Cailin as they strolled down the road toward the Gypsy camp. Cailin did her best to ignore them, though her cheeks still burned with embarrassment. She and James had received a royal scolding when they finally opened her bedchamber door.

Maggie had indeed listened in on their encounter. Her handmaid confessed she had been two beats away from fetching Davina. “I care not how soon you are to be wed,” she berated them both. “Cailin will reach the marriage bed with her maidenhead intact!”

Cailin had groaned with mortification while James only chuckled at her declarations, enflaming Margeret’s anger even more. This had made Cailin’s hairstyling session a painful experience. Maggie grumbled the entire episode, yanking and twisting Cailin’s cinnamon hair into her coiffure and hairnet.

Now Cailin diverted her eyes to James’s profile as a distraction from her handmaid’s venomous glares.

Servants bustled up and down the path, nodding and smiling. “Mistress Davina,” James asked, humor lighting his voice. “Did you lend your entire household to the Gypsies?”