The Marriage Contract (17 page)

They rode in silence. Then Aidan said, “I could plead the crofters’ case against the Clearances in Parliament, but they won’t listen.”

Hope rose inside her in spite of his stubbornness. “You will make them listen. And if they don’t hear you, you’ll go back and tell them again the next year.”

He laughed. “And the year after that?”

“Yes.” She ran her hand down the line of pewter buttons on his vest. “You must tell them until they listen.”

“It could take years, Anne.”

“How long has it been going on?” she said. “Years?”

He didn’t answer, but the mulish set of his mouth told her she’d made her point. “You may not be able to save everyone, Aidan, but you know that already. You’ve managed to keep your people safe. Now you must use your connections to speak for those who don’t have a voice.”

“Enough, Anne. Enough.” He turned to the window again. She watched him, her hands in her lap. He was thinking.

Then, he said, “I vowed never to return to London. I never felt as if I belonged there.”

“So you created your own world here.”

“Yes.” He shot her a defiant glance. “Is that wrong?”

“No…except that now your people need you to return
for them.
”

He didn’t answer, but broodingly stared out the window, although she doubted he noticed the passing scenery. He was lost in his own thoughts and she would have to have faith he would make the right choice—provided they escaped Major Lambert.

The coach started to slow and change direction. Aidan straightened. “We’re in Lybster.”

Anne remembered the quaint fishing village. They veered off the main road. At a crossroads, the military party had to wait for a funeral procession marching to the church. The view on her side of the coach was of the church graveyard and the freshly dug grave ready for its occupant.

“A grim omen,” Aidan muttered. She nodded. He waved a boy over. “Who died?”

“Packy Gilbride,” the youngster answered.

Aidan leaned back in the seat. “Did you know him?” Anne asked.

“Aye. He was a character. Had hair the color of Deacon’s and a temper to match.”

Lieutenant Fordyce rode up. “It won’t be much longer, my lord,” he reported officiously, as if theirs was a pleasure trip. “Major Lambert’s headquarters is over the next hill, about a mile south.” He was the model of respectful courtesy.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Aidan said dryly. They exchanged a few other words and then the officer left them. He laced his fingers with Anne’s. “No matter what happens, you must take care of yourself first, even if it means denouncing me and telling Major Lambert what you know.”

“I would never do that.”

He faced her. “You must. If I am to have peace, it will only come from the knowledge that you are safe.”

His face was so close to hers that she could see texture of the shades of blue in his eyes. “Promise,” he whispered.

She nodded, but silently vowed it was a promise she would not keep.

The coach started moving, and before she was ready, they arrived at the country manor that served as Major Lambert’s headquarters in Lybster.

“Courage, Anne,” he whispered, as they drove up the tree-lined drive.

Major Lambert greeted them himself. He was dressed casually in a white shirt, long vest, and riding boots. His neck cloth was slightly askew, as if he’d been pulling on it. He’d left off his wig, and his close-cropped hair gave him a relaxed, almost festive, air. His cheeks were ruddy with good humor, and drops of mud seemed to have splattered along the front of his vest and on his sleeves. He carried a riding crop in his right hand.

“Welcome,” he cheerily greeted them, as Aidan
helped Anne down from the coach. “I had hoped you would join us too, my lord.”

“You knew I would,” Aidan said.

“I had anticipated the prospect.” He clapped his hands together, a happy man. “My asking you here on such short notice wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, was it? Of course, it doesn’t matter if it was.”

“We appreciate your concern,” Aidan returned. He kept his hand on Anne’s arm and she was grateful for the support.

Major Lambert laughed, enjoying his sport.

“My lady is tired,” Aidan said. “Do you have rooms for us?”

“Of course, of course,” Major Lambert answered. He brushed one of the flecks of mud on his shirt with a hint of irritation. “But first, I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He didn’t wait for their response, but took Anne’s free arm and walked her in the direction of the stables. Two armed soldiers fell into step behind them.

Aidan’s hand slid down her arm. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Courage.

Major Lambert led them toward a stone cellar built into the side of a hill. He would have hurried Anne faster save for Aidan, who refused to walk past a pleasant stroll. Anne felt a pawn between two kings.

There was a guard at the door of the cellar. As Major Lambert approached, he came to attention
and then stepped back. “Come in,” Major Lambert invited.

“My lady will stay here,” Aidan said and Anne was relieved. She sensed she would not like what the major had to show her.

But Major Lambert would have none of it. “I insist,” he said.

Aidan would have protested but intuition told her the major wanted exactly that. It was not enough to crush a rebellion: Major Lambert wanted a pound of flesh from an old rival. “Of course, I will go in,” she murmured.

Her husband didn’t like it. “I’ll go first.” And she was happy to let him do so.

The good-sized cellar had a stone floor. A torch provided light. The air was dryer but no cooler than outside. However, instead of the potatoes, onions, and hams whose scent still lingered in the air, there was a single chair in the middle of the room. A man was tied to it, else he would have slumped over onto the floor.

The prisoner had been beaten severely to the point he was unrecognizable. It wasn’t mud that stained Major Lambert’s shirt, but blood. This man’s blood.

Anne could picture her father in that chair—or, God help him, her husband. Her stomach roiled. Aidan’s hand came around her waist and he pulled her close, shielding her face with his chest. “What joke is this?” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

“Why would you show such a thing to my lady, Major?”

“What?” the officer asked with a mild show of concern. “Oh, beg pardon, does it upset her? Here, then, let me do the introductions and we’ll be done.”

“What game are you playing, Lambert?” Aidan demanded bluntly.

“No game, my lord. This is anything but a game.” Lambert smacked his boot with his crop for emphasis.

“Are you questioning my loyalty to the Crown?”

“I’ve always questioned your loyalty to the Crown,” Major Lambert said simply. “Soon I will have the evidence I need. You recognize him, don’t you? Robbie Gunn?”

“I have never seen him before,” Aidan lied.

Anne didn’t know how anyone could identify him. His battered, swollen face made almost all of his features indistinguishable—save for the hair. His wasn’t as carrot colored as Deacon’s, but it was red all the same.

“I’d wager you have.” Major answered. “Gunn is a Jacobite and a traitor. I believe you are, too.”

“Then you must prove it. But I warn you,
Lambie,
there are laws in this land. I am not without friends. You will not further your own ambitions on the person of my wife. You will leave her out of any of your schemes. I insist she be sent to London.”

Aidan was sending her away, to safety. She
started to protest, but his arms around her tightened, cautioning her to silence.

“I can’t let her go,” Major Lambert said apologetically. “Because, Tiebauld, whether you like it or not, you are a rebel symbol in this country.”

Her husband exploded. “For God’s sakes, man! This is 1814, not 1745. My ancestor’s heyday is long over.”

“Is it?” Major Lambert attempted to lift Gunn’s head with the end of his crop. His prisoner did not move. Lambert looked up. “No, my guess is that if you join forces with the Gunn brothers, the highlands will go up in flames. Everyone is waiting for what you decide, you know.”

“I know of no such thing.”

“Turn over Deacon Gunn and I’ll believe you.”

“I haven’t a clue to Deacon’s whereabouts. You searched my estate. You saw for yourself.”

Major Lambert walked around them. The sound of his crop hitting his boots went right through Anne—and yet almost defiantly she stared him down.

“It is only a matter of hours before I get what I want from Gunn,” the Major said slowly. “I can wait. You’ll wait with me.” He nodded to a soldier to open the door. As he proceeded them outside, he said, “Colonel Witherspoon will be joining me this evening. He is very interested in what Gunn will have to say.”

“Then you’d best keep him alive,” Aidan responded. “Because right now, if he dies from your beatings, Scotland
will
go up in flames, and
you
will be known in London not as the man who ended a rebellion, but the man who started one.”

Major Lambert had not considered that twist. He hesitated, uncertain. “I know my responsibilities,” he chided, but some of the bluster had left him.

“Very well,” Aidan said, his voice cool. “In the meantime, my wife and I would like to be shown to our rooms. Hopefully, they will be better than the ones you’ve given Gunn. And I meant what I said, Lambert. If you hurt my wife, I will use every means at my disposal to ruin you.”

“You’ll find your wings clipped if you are in Newgate,” Major Lambert said stiffly. He led them into the house.

Inside, soldiers’ boots clumped on the fine wood floors. The furniture had been moved and pushed at angles for the men to talk or laze about. As the major walked through, they came to attention. He ignored them. Instead, he charged up the stairs and stopped at the room at the top. He opened the door.

“This is where you will be staying.” The room was comfortably modest. The walls were a green wash, the curtains heavy white damask. A four-poster double bed with a peach cotton spread took up the majority of the floor space.

Anne entered, pretending all was normal. “Is there water?”

“It will be sent up,” Major Lambert answered tightly.

“Then this will do very well,” she said.

“A guard will be outside the door.” He crossed to the single window and looked out. “Sound carries. We can hear everything you say.” He smiled, the expression chilling. “You will dine with me?”

Aidan said coolly, “I’d sup with the devil before I’d sit at a table with you.”

“You may receive your wish,” Major Lambert countered and laughed at his own small joke. He left the room and Anne collapsed on the bed.

“I’ve never seen anyone hurt the way Robbie Gunn was,” she whispered. “How can he still be alive?”

“He has a strong spirit.”

“Like his brother?”

Aidan smiled. “Aye. They are equally obstinate. Lambert doesn’t know who he is threatening. Robbie will die rather than give him names.”

A knock sounded on the door. At Aidan’s call, a soldier entered with warm water and linen towels. Another soldier set to guard them peered in with curiosity.

Aidan stood and said a few words to both men. He sounded perfectly at ease. Once they were alone again, he walked to the window alcove. He stood for such a long time, she asked what he was watching.

“I can see the cellar from here,” he said, his voice low. “Lambert has sent some men with food and
water,” he observed. “He’s taking my advice to keep Gunn alive to heart.”

“Or is he planning to prolong the man’s agony?”

“Perhaps a bit of both.” Aidan turned from the window and there was a wicked gleam in his eye.

She stood. “You have a plan,” she said, with a conspirator’s eagerness.

“Yes.”

“What is it? What are we going to do?”

He took another look out the window a moment before saying, “We’re going to make love.”

“You’re joking.” She couldn’t have heard him correctly.

He smiled. “Anne, I’ve never been more serious in my life.” He began to untie his neck cloth.

“
We are surrounded
by British soldiers,” Anne reminded Aidan as he hung his neck cloth over a chair in the corner of the room.

“Yes, I know.” He sat down in the chair and pulled on the heel of his boot.

He couldn’t seriously be going through with this! “You’re mad.”

“It’s been rumored,” he agreed. He tugged again at the heel and then looked to her in frustration. “Come play my valet, will you? I need help removing these damn boots. I don’t wear them enough.”

She dropped her gaze to his offered foot and back up to his face. He appeared almost comical, sitting in such an awkward position. “You don’t want to make love to me.”

“On the contrary, I haven’t been able to think of much of anything else since last night.”

“Well, you’ve done an admirable job of hiding it,” she answered briskly.

He put his foot on the floor. “Anne, come here.”

She frowned and took a step back. He rolled his eyes heavenward. “I should have known.” He held out his hand. “Please, Anne, come to me.”

Almost with a will of their own, her feet moved around the edge of the bed. She hesitated a moment.

“Trust me, Anne.”

“How can I, when you come up with such ridiculous notions?”

“Afraid?”

“Yes!” she admitted. “Yes, yes,
yes
!”

He shook his head. Coming to his feet, he walked the short distance between them. His large, capable hand cupped the side of her head. “My Anne, so bold, so brave, and yet so timid of what is right and natural.”

The beat of her heart accelerated. It always did when he stood this close. “And you are a fool—”

His lips covered her mouth, effectively silencing her. For a moment, she couldn’t think. She could only react—and she did, by kissing him back.

Suddenly, she was tired of fighting. This felt good. It felt right.

His hand slipped around her waist. He pulled her body up against his. His lips left hers as he nibbled a trail along the line of her jaw. His other hand cupped her breast. “Anne,” he whispered.

She answered by melting against him. Pleasure. Her body quivered with needs she hadn’t known before his touch.

He lifted her up and carried her the few steps to the bed, where he lowered her to sit on the edge.

The sudden motion made Anne dizzy because of her racing pulse. She started to sit up, but he kissed her down—with demanding, possessive, hungry kisses—and Anne responded in kind. This time, when his tongue stroked hers, she opened eagerly to him.

Her senses were full of him. Sandalwood and citrus. Warm, masculine man. Her lips tasted his skin, reveling in the texture. She didn’t ever want to stop kissing him, not even for breath.

His hands moved with purpose now. His fingers loosened her laces before pushing her sleeves down her shoulders. The kiss stopped while she had to slip first one arm and then another free, his hands already greedily dipping into the bodice of her chemise and cupping her breasts.

At the first touch of his skin on her flesh, Anne cried out in a combination of surprise and relief. She’d wanted this. She longed for it.

Still, she must have had some semblance of sanity, because when a footstep sound outside the door, she struggled for conscious thought, coming up on her elbows. “It’s the middle of the day.”

“The best time for love,” he murmured, kissing the line of her hair down to the tender skin beneath her ear. His fingers scattered her silver pins onto the mattress.

“Aidan, people will hear us.” Her voice ended on
a squeak as he touched her ear with the tip of his tongue. The feel of his warm breath on such a sensitive spot almost sent her reason through the ceiling like a shooting star.

“We’ll be quiet.” His words hummed through her ear.

She moaned. “I don’t know if I can be.”

He brought his face round to look her in the eye. His were twinkling with laughter. “Then make as much noise as you’d like, love. We’re married. We’re newlyweds. Everyone expects us to do this.”

Love.
“Did you hear what you called me?”

He grinned. “Aye.” He brushed her nipples with his thumbs. “Love,” he repeated with more meaning.

Anne laughed out of nervousness and wonder. “Love,” she whispered.

He pushed her chemise down to her waist until her breasts were completely free of confining material. He weighed them in his hands.

Doubts, uncertainties, and reservations all fled. For one shining moment, she let herself believe he loved her. With blinding insight, she realized she’d withheld a part of herself from him out of fear of being hurt and abandoned. Everyone she had ever loved had left her. The need to protect herself from the pain of abandonment had been the driving force behind her desire to leave Kelwin that morning.

Now, she released all apprehension. She wanted
only to live in the moment. She wanted to feel his skin against hers. She wanted to give herself freely and completely to the man she loved. Joyfully, she threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him back, and kissed him as if her life depended upon it.

Aidan laughed, falling onto the bed and rolling her with him. The time for words was past. His hands skillfully untied her garters and pushed her stockings down her legs. She curled her toes, letting her shoes drop softly to the floor.

His lips left hers. She objected, but her indignation turned to a happy sigh when his mouth closed over her nipple.

Anne practically jumped off the bed as he drew it into his mouth. The pull of his mouth on her breast did strange things deep inside to the woman’s part of her. It raised a need…and a knowing, both as old as time.

His hands slid up the inside of her thighs and he touched her in the most intimate place of all, mimicking the movement of his tongue. Anne was lost, captured in a haze of driving, spiraling emotion she’d never known before.

“Aidan, what are you doing to me?”

He lifted his head and grinned, his eyes so blue they took her breath away. “Loving you.”

She held out her arms. “Please, be with me.”

Aidan undressed himself down to his breeches.
He made quick work of it and had no trouble removing his boots. His muscular body was a work of art in the late afternoon light.

Reaching up, she ran her hand down his chest, marveling at the flat planes and hard surfaces.

Her dress was around her waist. Laughing, he drew it over her head and tossed it aside. She was naked.

For a moment, Anne moved as if to cover herself, but his hands on her shoulders steadied her. His expression intent, he combed her hair with his fingers until it curled down around her shoulders, the ends almost touching her breasts.

“I’ve pictured you like this,” he said. “It is how I want to remember you.”

His words reminded her of where they were, what could happen to them, but before she could respond to fear, he stood, one knee on the bed, the other foot on the floor. “Unbutton me, Anne. Show me you want this as much as I do.”

Her anxiety disappeared, replaced by startled bemusement. He expected her to be a willing participant. She’d assumed a woman’s body was nothing more than a vessel for a man to do whatever it was he wished.

This was new. This was exciting.

She scooted to the edge of the bed. Her fingers trembled as she unfastened the first button. She could feel the length of him beneath the fabric. She slipped another button from its hole and another.

His fingers brushed her hair as she worked. At last, she’d freed the last button. “Take it out, Anne,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice.

“It?” she asked, uncertain. The other night she had discreetly averted her eyes from this very male part of him. She wasn’t anxious to touch it.

“Oh, it is a bold and hungry creature.”

“You’re teasing me. I’ve heard it described as a stick. Sticks aren’t bold.”

He laughed with genuine amusement. “More a staff than a mere twig. Go along, Anne. See for yourself.”

She met his challenge, pushing his breeches down, and drew a sharp breath. “Oh dear.” It wasn’t what she’d expected…and yet it was more than she’d imagined.

“Touch me.”

“I don’t know.”

His hand took hers. “You liked it when I touched you?”

“Yes.”

“Then return the love, sweetheart. Feel me.” He placed her hand on him and she was taken aback at how soft and smooth he was. But hard, strong. She ran the back of her fingers along velvet skin and he almost purred with appreciation.

She lifted her gaze. “You like—?”

Aidan kissed her, pressing her back on the bed, suddenly very serious, very focused. He shoved the covers aside and leaned forward, pushing her to the
mattress. The sheets were cool against her skin. He climbed on top of her, his lips not leaving hers, his skin rough and smooth against hers.

Her body understood better than her mind what the next step would be. Her legs opened to cradle him against her.

He kissed the line of her neck. His hands molded her to him. His whispered words of praise and encouragement that like an elixir robbed her of all will save his.

Anne forgot where she was or even who she was. The world ceased to exist beyond the bedroom doors, beyond the boundaries of the bed.

Aidan spoke. “I can’t wait any longer, Anne. I’ll try not to hurt you.”

He’d been moving his body against hers. But his next action was foreign, unanticipated. It stirred her from the languorous haze of desire. He entered her.

She stiffened. “Aidan?” Her hands gripped his shoulder.

“It will be all right, love.” He thrust deeper.

Anne felt a sharp pain, like the prick of a needle. It shocked her and she jerked, attempting to move away from him.

He held her in place. “Give it time, Anne. Let your body adjust to me.”

She met his gaze, wanting to trust him. “Does this mean the marriage is consummated?”

His lips curved into a smile. “Absolutely.”

“Then it is worth it.” She drew a steadying breath. “I think I’d like to get up now.”

“Get up—?” He pressed his head against her forehead and looked nose-to-nose in her eyes. “Anne, we haven’t even begun.”

“Do you mean there is more?”

He nodded. “More pleasure.”

She didn’t know if she believed him. This was such a strange position. Almost too intimate.

And then he started moving.

Holding herself still, she planned to wait it out until he was finished. But something happened. His movements sparked a responding sense of need. He pushed deeper and she felt the return of desire, only this time, it came with more force.

The ache became a distant memory. Her body moved to meet his. He was driving harder now, even as she reached to respond.

This was making love. Emotion guided her now. She strained to meet him, searching for a point inside her she didn’t understand. Aidan talked to her, kissing her and encouraging her to meet his every thrust.

Then, suddenly, she crossed a threshold she’d never known existed. One moment she was in the present, her body as tight as a bowstring; in the next she was flying.

Anne cried out, holding Aidan close. She couldn’t let go. She’d never let him go.

He buried himself deep inside her. Once, twice, a third time…and then she felt him release. His life force filled her, branding her, making her truly and completely his.

Anne fell back on the bed, drained. She closed her eyes, reveling in the weight of his body covering hers. “I didn’t know anything could be like that.”

“I didn’t either.”

The touch of amazement in his voice caught her attention. She opened her eyes. “Truly?”

“Yes, truly,” he echoed. He kissed her then, gentle, feather-light kisses on eyes and cheeks.

Cool air hit her skin. She’d been so involved in the heat of their own making, she had not noticed the chill in the room.

He rolled from her and pulled the heavy spread and sheets over them. His legs entwined with hers and she snuggled down next to him. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

She laughed. “I’ve never felt better.”

Visibly relieved, he said, “I got a bit carried away at the end.”

“I liked it.” She let her hand stray to his chest where she marveled at his hardness, his strength. “For the first time since my parents’ deaths,” she whispered, “I feel safe.”

His arms cradled her close. “I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

“This is enough,” she answered, and pressed a kiss against his collar bone before yawning. She re
laxed into the bedclothes. “I could sleep for a week—”

A footstep outside the door was their only warning. The door was flung open even as Anne ducked further under the covers. For a second there was no sound, and then Aidan said coolly, “Was there something in particular you wanted, Lambert?”

Anne peeked from the shelter of the bedclothes and her husband’s body. Major Lambert’s eyebrows could not have risen any higher up his forehead. “The guard said he’d heard strange noises.”

Aidan smiled. “Not
so
strange, I would hope.”

Major Lambert struggled for understanding. “You’ve been making love?”

“How else did you expect us to pass the time?” Aidan said. “Wringing our hands with worry while you trump up charges by beating a man to death?”

“Have you no respect for my authority?” The major raised his voice, conscious as a very embarrassed Anne was that Lieutenant Fordyce and some of the other soldiers craned their necks to witness the confrontation between the two men.

But Aidan answered calmly, “I am well aware of how much authority you wield, Lambert. You have the power to destroy me whether I am innocent or guilty. But I am a recently married man.” His hand beneath the covers clasped Anne’s. “I have a pretty young wife who is being dragged into your schemes against her will and against all that is right and noble. If I choose to spend what may be my last
hours loving her, then it is no business of yours.”

The major frowned. Anne sensed he wanted to throw Aidan’s words back at him—but there was nothing he could say. Especially in front of his men, whose sympathies obviously rested with her and Aidan. She could see it in their faces. They had wives and sweethearts. They must have known there was bad blood between Aidan and their commanding officer.