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Authors: Eliza Knight

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #General, #Fiction

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BOOK: The Highlander's Conquest
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Moments later the other hunting party returned with a half dozen pheasant that they’d already cleaned.

They gestured to Blane, who gave them some of the long sticks he’d gathered for roasting. Aliah noted the lack of speaking, and shook her head. There was something he wasn’t telling her, but she didn’t want to ask. Mayhap his men had taken a vow of silence. Such things weren’t uncommon.

Dumping the meat and
vegetables
into the boiling cauldron, she checked around for any herbs and was lucky enough to find
a tied bunch o
f dried thyme. She flavored the water, the scents emanating from the stew already making her mouth water.
Aliah had never cooked before. She’d spent plenty of time in the kitchens swiping rolls and sweets. Enough to have gotten stuck hiding under a table
, her only option
was
to watch those at work in the kitchen. She was surprised at how easy cooking was.

She cleaned up her mess and watched as the men finished cooking their pheasants and
then
took hearty bites. Liam offered her one and she shook her head. “Will you all be eating stew as well?”

The men nodded emphatically, walking into the other room and a few outside. She was left quite alone in the main room with the one man she knew she should stay away from.

“Can I offer you a drink?” Blane asked
, his voice soothing
.

She turned to see him lounging on one of the stools, his back against the wall, his long, muscular legs spread out before him. He held out his wineskin to her.

“What is it?” she asked with narrowed eyes, remember
ing
the last time he’d offered her a drink.

“’Tis watered wine, I promise.”

That sounded heavenly. She nodded, and sat on one of the stools,
arranging her skirts properly and sitting with her back as stiff as the wall he leaned against. She took
a nice long sip. Even though it was watered, the wine soothed her nerves, making her feel more at ease.
She was surprised at the flavor and quality.

“How
do you like it?” he asked.

Aliah glanced at him. He looked so comfortable sitting there, relaxed. His eyes were slightly hooded as he gazed at her and her flesh started to heat, remembering how she’d seen desire flash within their green depths hours before.

“’Tis very nice.”

A slow, sensual smile curled his lips. “I’m glad. I was afraid you’d spit it on me.”

Aliah frowned, then laughed, finding humor in a situation that had mortified her before. “I promise not to spit on you ever again, so long as you don’t give me anymore of that—what did you call it? The drink of the angels?”

“Aye, and next time
, should I happen
to
give it to
you, I’ll make sure to stand far away.” That smile still touched his lips making her want to reach out and run her fingers around the edges.

Shaking her head she said, “Oh no, I won’t be needing
the angel’s drink
. This suits me fine.” She held up his wineskin
and took another sip.
A small drop dribbled over her chin and she swiped it away with her thumb. Her eyes flicked to Blane, wondering if he’d seen her mishap, but what she saw made her wish she’d not looked at all.

Desire blazed in his eyes as he roved his gaze up and down her length.

Trying to lighten the intensity, Aliah handed him the wineskin, ignoring the spark when his fingers brushed hers.

“What do you call this drink?”

Blane let out a chuckle that was both sensuous and wicked.
“I had not a name for it before, but now I think
I’ve come up with one
.”

His voice stroked over her body, just as his hands had in the darkened woods. “What?” she said, her voice not sounding like her own, but a tighter, strained version. She desperately wanted him to kiss her again, to take away the aching pulse that seemed to center in her middle when he paid attention to her.

Blane sat
forward, his knee brush
ing
hers. Her immediate reaction
was to pull away, but her stubborn knee wouldn’t move. Blane’s heat seared a path from that spot, up her thigh to parts she didn’t even know she possessed.

Aliah’s breath hitched as Blane seemed to come even closer, his face inches from hers. His intense stare bored into her as though he would see inside her sou
l. What did her own eyes reveal? F
or his showed a promise of pleasure, merriment and warmth. How deeply she wished to close the distance between them, to sink into his lap and let him take her away, at least for a little while before she had to return to the harsh realities of life and the loneliness of her future.

Loneliness had never been how she thought of it before now… Not until she’d met Blane had her choice to join the church seemed a dreary existence.

“I would call it…” Closer he came, until his breath stroked over her cheek and his hand slid a tentative path up her arm. “Temptation.”

With that decadent word uttered, his lips claimed hers. ’Twas like she’d been dying of thirst and
even with a drink placed at her lips, s
he could not quench her
craving
. She could not get enough of him, she let herself come undone, becoming lost in the pleasure of his kiss.

Somehow she ended up on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. Her hip was pressed to his rock-hard stomach, and she felt each hitch of his breath against her. Their tongues dueled, stroked, teased, tasted, sucked. Saint’s ears, she was wicked and she didn’t even
c
are. She wanted this. Wanted all of him.

“Blane,” she murmured against his lips. Her body moved in a wiggly, rhythmic motion of its own volition, trying to acquire something
. S
he wasn’t sure what.

“Oh, Aliah…” he answered. “You’re so
filled with
passion.”

Was that the word?
Passion. Y
es…and she wanted…

His hands skimmed over her breasts, her hardened nipples instantly sparking with undefined pleasure.

“Oh,” she breathed, her head falling back as his mouth sizzled a path down the side of her neck.

“You like when I touch you.” He didn’t ask, he stated, and he was right.

“Aye.”

“When I kiss you.”

“Aye.”

“What about this?” His mouth trailed from her neck over her chest to rest at the valley between her breasts.

Aliah whimpered, thinking she might just lose consciousness from the sensations he sent careening through her, and from
the sheer
excitement of it. Her breaths came fast
and shallow
. H
er heart beat so loud she felt as though it echoed off the cottage walls.

“Aye,” she managed.

He nuzzled around her
collarbone
. With one hand holding onto the side of her ribs, the other massaged the swells of her breasts. And then, she cried out as his mouth captured a turgid nipple through the fabric of her clothing.


Shh
…” he murmured against her, sending even more wonderful sensations along her flesh.

She squeezed her thighs together as frissons of pleasure shot from her
breasts to her core and the curls between her legs grew damp.

What was happening?

How could this man make her feel…so delicious?

A thump against the wall had them scrambling apart. Aliah jumped to her feet, feeling completely mussed and her body still yearning for Blane’s touch and the satisfaction he could give her. Blane looked as filled with longing as she felt, his hair too was mussed and his eyes were heavily lidded.

There was no one in the room, and no shouts of warnings from the guards, but it was just as well. She’d vowed not to kiss the man again and then
,
with one touch
,
she’d f
allen
into his arms, let him touch her, put his mouth to her breasts. Oh, just the thought of it had her heating up for more.

“I…um…need to—” She didn’t bother finishing, she quickly left the cottage to find peace in the woods, to breathe in the fresh air and put some distance between them.
Frosty followed, an ever present guard. If only the hound could help guard her heart.

Aliah felt as though her entire world was crashing down around her. Confusion filled her. Her entire future was in question. And with Blane…she was starting to feel more for him than the fire of his touch. Nay, her feelings for him went deeper than that. A realization she was not willing to explore.

When she returned to the cottage, Blane was not in sight. She ladled herself some stew and took
it
to the loft, eating alone and contemplating all that had happened. Aliah fell into a dreamless, restless sleep. When she was nudged awake to leave, ’twas by Liam. Although, she rode with Blane, they spoke little beyond the necessities. They remained like that, distant and quiet for the next several days.

Although they kept
away from each other
, Aliah still burned from their last encounter and had to fight
the growing attraction
every minute
.
’Twas obvious she was
n’t
the only one
affected by what happened
, as every time Blane looked at her, the intensity of his stare
made her want to melt into the forest floor.
He kept his expression well-guarded so she couldn’t decipher whether he stared at her with disdain or desire.

Since he didn’t speak to her, she rather thought it was the
former
. Aye, it must have been for she’d hardly acted like a woman meant for the church.

Blane
exposed her to another side of life she’d never though
t
existed
—a
realization
she’d had more than once. Aliah had struggled with that
awareness
from the moment she met him. She wasn’t quite sure how to come to terms with
her newfound knowledge
. Ignoring it would leave her without worry for now, but with her future hanging in the balance…
she was lost.
When she reached Father and Arbella, she would have a hearty talk with herself to figure things out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
Ten

 

B
y the time they reached the border of Scotland, Blane
was so
out of sorts
he thought for sure he’d
snarl at the next person who spoke to him.
He was hotter than hell from the tempting lady who clutched his back all through the night as they rode, and from what the thoughts of touching her body brought
—desire, need
.

At least now they’d stepped onto Scottish
soil
and he could breathe again. In fact, he was intent on heading to the Fir Tree Inn, so named for its location amidst a grove of firs. ’Twas owned by a loyal couple who’d kept his identity secret on many an occasion and whom he could trust without reserve. He stopped at the Fir every trip to and from the wool market.

The inn was located at an inconspicuous location that many Scots used crossing the border, hence their reputation for discretion and many repeat visitors. They were far enough away from Berwick upon Tweed and Dumfries, which was where the English tended to congregate
on the border
.

Once they were settled in the inn, he would bathe the grime of
over
a week’s travel and savor a hearty, warm meal.

As Fir was his base of sorts, he and his men had stashed their plaids there. Blane could almost feel the freeness of his plaid. He couldn’t wait to take off the constrictive
hose
the English insisted upon wearing.
To be able to speak naturally again… To no longer pretend to be someone else.

He would once again be Blane Sutherland.

And his men would likely cheer for joy when they were allowed to once again speak.

“We’ve reached Scotland, my lady,” he muttered to her in the same dull tone he’d made sure to use since nearly devouring her whole and stealing her innocence. He’d hoped to push her away by acting harsh and disinterested, but she only returned his attitude with one of her own, and it stung. Blane was actually surprised how much it hurt to feel her rejecting him in the same way he’d rejected her.

Conquering her innocence was one
triumph
—although he’d die a happy man doing it—that he’d never lay claim to. Especially after he revealed who he truly was.

“’Tis beautiful,” she murmured back, just as noncommittally
.

His homeland
was
beautiful, not that
crossing the border changed things much, but the open fields here, the trees and the air just felt different. Once they reached the Highlands though—then
Aliah would
see true beauty.
Vast ro
lling hills
with snowcapped
mountains
in winter
, and in t
he spring
,
fields and valleys of wildflowers and meadows dotted with sheep.

A chill wind swept over the group as they continued on. Aliah shivered behind him and he resisted the urge to reach around and rub her in an effort to warm her up.

“We shall stop soon, at an inn.”

“An inn?” Her voice was filled with quiet pleasure.

“Aye.” He found he liked pleasing her. She’d been surprisingly well spirited on their journey. They’d been chased by madmen
—and they were indeed madmen for having stepped into their midst
.
She used
her bow to end one’s life. Hunting for food, sleeping in places a lady did not normally lay her head. He was proud of her.

And that was a feeling he didn’t want to partake in. Having pride in her was dangerous. It only led to all the other feelings he had for her…
m
ade their relationship one of intimacy.

Pushing aside the dangerous path his thoughts were taking, Blane scanned the area to make sure all was well. Dawn was nearly upon them, and the landscape was cloaked in grey. The clouds kissed the earth leaving an eerie fog rolling across the
lush plains. He followed
a
route
he’d taken more times than he could count.
They
entered into the woods toward a path
hidden from view
, unless you knew it was there. They traveled for several minutes more before coming to a clearing, wherein sat the Fir Tree Inn. The main building was large and built of
cut
stone with a thatched roof. The
ground
floor boasted a main room, a private dining room and the kitchens. The main room hosted a tavern of sorts, and a few locals imbibed on brew and
Mistress Kerr
’s scrumptious
,
savory venison stew and buttery baked bread.
Which he could smell from the clearing.
The second floor had several rooms for rent, although Blane had only ever stayed in one. The
Kerrs
knew his schedule and tended to keep it free when
the
time
grew near
for him to travel.

To the right of the inn was a
wooden
stable
s
and
t
o the left was their cottage, a small and homey looking building nearly identical to the inn, save for being much smaller.

As they approached, several children stopped playing and ran, disappearing inside the inn.
He’d lost track of how many children the
Kerrs
had. They seemed to be in a constant
state of breeding. Blane supposed that meant they were happy.

“Ah, Sir Blane, we’ve been expecting ye.” The large form of
Master Kerr
appeared from within the stable
s
. The man was like a thick oak—nearly as tall and as round as one. His long red hair was thinning on top, and indeed he boasted more hair on his chin than the top of his head. His arms were thick with muscle and if Blane had met him when he was a child he would have sworn the earth mov
ed
when the man marched over it, for he did not walk.


Master Kerr
,” Blane drawled, still using his English accent. “I have returned and brought with me
the Lady Aliah,
who will require a room.”

Master Kerr
met his eyes, understanding the situation. He nodded. “
Mistress Kerr
will be happy to
house
a lady.
We dinna get
verra
many. ’Tis a pleasure to meet y
e
, my lady.

The innkeeper bowed low, a feat Blane wasn’t sure the man did very often if the stiffness of his body was any indication.

Blane felt Aliah tense behind him as
Master Kerr
returned to his full height and studied her. What could she be nervous about?
Although doing so warred with everything he’d been fighting against over the last couple of days, he placed his hand over hers at his waist and squeezed gently. It worked. He felt her relax a little and let out a breath.

“Why d
inna
your men get the horses into the stable
s
and I’ll take y
e
and Lady Aliah inside to see about a room and a hearty meal.”

“My thanks,” Blane said, glad that
Master Kerr
did not ask about his English accent or the fact that he had an English noblewoman on his horse.
Master Kerr
was the epitome of discretion and Blane was only further impressed with the man he chose to trust and the safe haven he provided.

Dismounting, he took Aliah down, and she didn’t resist when he placed her hand at his elbow. She was nervous, that much was obvious, and even though she’d relaxed somewhat
he could still feel that she was on high alert. Her knuckles were nearly white from clutching the straps of her bow and quiver.

“You will be safe here,” he said under his breath. “I stay here often.”

She glanced up at him with wide, questioning eyes.

“Whenever I
return
home, I prefer a road less traveled by, and the quiet, peace of the Kerr’s inn.”

Aliah nodded, but still didn’t utter a word. She was probably exhausted as they all were. A warm bed and a hot meal would surely put her at peace.

They entered the inn, and Blane had to duck through the door as did
Master Kerr
. He’d never asked the man, but he wondered why he hadn’t built the doorway taller? Perhaps the Kerr
’s weren’t the original owners.

“Your things…”
Master Kerr
started, but Blane shook his head, stopping him.

He was sure the innkeeper would tell him his things were stowed beneath the floorboards within the man’s cottage—a favor for which Blane paid him handsomely.

“My men will be happy to see about my things,” he said quickly. Sooner rather than later, he would reveal his true self to Aliah, but he had to think of a way to do it. Mayhap he would simply change and then reintroduce himself, tell her it was for her own safety and that he was in fact the brother
of her sister’s husband
. His stomach tightened. ’Twould not be a pretty scene, he was sure,
when he did tell her the truth, however necessary. Being
in
Scotland, ’
t
was safer to travel as himself with the Sutherland name and might behind him.

“Well, Sir Blane, we
are so pleased to see ye again.

Mistress
Kerr scurried from one of the back rooms toward him. “And I see
ye’ve
brought a companion with ye.”

Blane and Aliah shook their heads at the same time. “Not a companion,
Mistress Kerr
. I simply provide Lady Aliah with an escort to her sister’s home.

“Oh, well, in that case my apologies for having assumed…” She studied them both, her voice trailing off and Blane could only imagine what was going through her mind. Worse, he felt his cheeks heating and he never blushed. Never. From the corner of his eye, he noted Aliah’s face had also turned a particular shade of crimson. “Would ye like a bath
,
dear, before I serve supper?”
Mistress Kerr
did not wait for Aliah to respond, but instead ushered her toward the stairs. She did turn around once, her narrowed gaze on Blane. “I will put her in your usual room.
The
hound
can go in the stables.
Will y
e
bed down with your men tonight?”

He nodded,
rubbing Frosty’s head,
trying not to laugh at
Mistress Kerr
’s meddling. Although, he was pleased that the woman had taken a liking to Aliah. His charge would be safe with the innkeeper’s wife, and no doubt spoiled by her too. He hoped once she’d had a bath and
a steaming
bowl full of
Mistress Kerr
’s famous stew she’d get some rest and when they were ready to depart, she’d be in the best of moods.

For
then
she would learn who he really was. And most likely she’d try to put an arrow through his heart.

 

BOOK: The Highlander's Conquest
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