Behind the Plaid (3 page)

“
A lovely gift,” I chuckled, staring with renewed interest at three of the maids draped around me on the bed.

Being a Highland
laird and chief was no easy position, but somebody had to do it. All the better that it was me—born and raised to be formidable, powerful, dominant. With a wide grin, I noted how very true those words were.

One of the lasses stirred and murmured her appreciation. But ’twas I who was truly appreciative. I’d needed a good night of sport and
wickedness away from the strife of running the clan. Away from the bleakness that was my past—thoughts that always blackened my mood like a rotted carcass.

King James V of Scotland was a good man. And I knew his gift
—these wenches—was a bribe. No one’s sovereign sent them a wagon full of ripe and willing females if they didna want something.

But I would gladly serve my king, and last night I think I served him rather well. I chuckled again at the thought, my cock growing hard as memories of
plunging deep inside one and then another of the lassies came to mind.

I cupped a handful of plush breast in one hand and an arse in the other. “Mmm… Any
one of ye wenches awake?”

Several lasses tittered, claiming they were ready for another go at the Laird of Gealach.
Those who’d slept on the floor rose to join us on the bed.

A wide
, lascivious grin creased my lips. I commanded, “Come and let me grant ye your every desire.”

Within moments
, my full cock was wet and hot within the slick heat of a blonde’s tight sheath. Another pressed her mouth to mine, while two others stroked and licked over my body. Opening an eye, I caught sight of the brown-haired lass trying to gather her clothing on tip-toes, intent most likely on sneaking out. Pausing mid-kiss, I called out, “No need to rush off, lass, there’s plenty of room for ye!”

Her face flamed
, but she dropped her garments and scurried back to the bed. I reached out for her to kiss me. She’d been more on the timid side, most likely new to the harem King James kept.

Ah, what a life
. One I intended to keep. If any knew the truth of my past, they’d know I wasna truly meant for it. Despite all outward appearances. Despite the man I called Da, the previous Laird of Gealach. I fought to the death anyone who threatened my domain. And it happened more often than not. Luckily, Death’s grip had been for my opponents rather than for me thus far. Was that skill, or was that Fate? I’m confident in myself, my sword, and my strength, even I wouldna turn my back on Fate.

The king
advised me to keep Gealach and her secrets safe. To make sure no one passed into the kingdom without my approval first. Thus far, I’d made good on my word. Any bastard that got in my way would burn for it.

The clan knew what was at stake
and followed me without question. But even so… There were many willing to take on the infamous Laird of Gealach. Many willing to risk their lives for a cause they deemed worthy. But I have always been and would always be, stronger. Swimming, a daily caber toss, weapons training, and hand to hand combat keep my body conditioned. My men were the best of the best. Elite. Many an allied laird sent his warriors to me for training. A hefty price in coin they paid for it, too. Didna hurt to have as many allies on the field as possible. Especially with the ever present threat of England drumming on our backs.

But th
ose enemy clansmen, mostly the Lairds of the Isles who wished to challenge King James’ rule, or those who wished to take my place, were too absorbed in their greed to realize I was unbeatable.

Fools. All of them. If even one realized who I
truly was, the power I wielded, they’d nay set foot on Gealach lands. They’d abandon their weapons and their foolish notions and run for the hills. Gealach would be a peaceful place. But no one was likely to tell my enemies the truth. Three had died with the secret. The one other living soul who knew the truth would nay speak it, as it would bring about his own ruin. If he were to perish, my secret would be forever buried. My secret was protected. And so was my right to rule this place.

But
peace wasna the way of it. Instead, Gealach was often plagued. A tireless life I led. And so, aye, when a wagon full of lovelies was spilled at my feet, I eagerly grappled up the warm flesh and tantalized them all with my prowess until each of us was sated and without breath.

The blonde switched places with the timid one who rode me like a tigress, rubbing her mons against
cock like a wench on a mission. The others continued to tease me, and I touched and kissed where I could, not wanting anyone to feel left out. There was enough of me to go around. But when one of the lasses put her mouth to my sac…that saw the end of it. My ballocks clenched tight and I roared with release.

Moments later, a
light tapping sounded at the door. The morning’s revelry would have to come to an end despite that I could go another round or two. We’d yet begun to work on the rather naughty activities I dreamed up overnight. “Up with ye, lassies. I must be about my day.”

I opened the door a crack to
see my second in command in the corridor, armed and ready. Ewan was as tall as I and boasted the same breadth of strength in his muscles. A must for the man who had my back. But there, the likeness waned. He was light where I was dark—blond hair glowing like the gold in my treasure box, whereas mine was as black as the iron lock keeping the treasure secure. Eyes light, icy blue, in steep contrast to mine which matched the darkness of my hair. “Ye said to wake ye at dawn, my laird.”

“Aye.”

Ewan wiggled his brows as a few of the lassies giggled and moaned. I just grinned. “I suppose they’d like some privacy.” Grabbing my plaid I opened the door a bit wider to give Ewan a peek at the erotic spectacle, then stepped into the hallway, arms crossed over my chest.

Ewan shook his head. “My laird, a lovely gift the king has sent ye.”

“They may entertain ye if ye like.”

Ewan shook his head vigorously. “Nay, I couldna, as much as I wish it. Scouts are back and requesting your audience.”

Damn. I hoped they wouldna be back so soon. The fact they wanted an audience didna sit well. “Och. Take them to my library. Tell them I’ll be down in a moment. I need to get my boots on at least.”

Ewan chuckled. “Be sure not to
get too distracted on your way out of the chamber.”

As much as
I wanted to bury my face in the brunette’s ample bosom while the raven haired one rubbed hers on my back, duty called. I stepped back inside, groaned aloud when they beckoned me, and groaned louder when I declined. “’Haps next time lassies.” I slapped each of them playfully on their arses, sucked greedily at a few turgid nipples, finished getting dressed and left the chamber, my plaid fully tented in the front.

Despite
the early hour, the castle was already coming to life. I could hear the maids opening chambers and singing as they dusted and straightened bedding. Even though most of the chambers were empty, I required they be kept in order in case any guests arrived. We were known to have unexpected visitors on occasion and with Gealach being a major political appointment, I wasna about to turn anyone away.

The echo of my boots sounded off the stone walls as I descended the wheel stair.
Gealach had been built for defense, from its thick, impenetrable walls to the design on its staircase. The counter-clockwise direction of the stairs was so those who attacked had to fight with their left hands and those who descended must fight with their right. We’d never been breached except in one case where I’d encountered a left-handed maggot—a traitor within our midst. Good thing I could fight just as well with both arms.

Mayhap I’m a glutton for punishment, but I enjoy fighting my battles uphill. The harder I have to work to win, the more grueling the fight
, the more satisfied I am with victory. I chuckled, likening it to making love. The harder I worked, the more effort put into it, the better it was for us both in the end.

I paused on the second floor to glance out the slitted window at the glow of the morning sun and how it lit everything in its path.
Our lands were mostly covered in grey. A sunny day was rare and to be treasured. Dreamlike moments like these, when the land’s beauty was shown in such an austere way made me supremely grateful to be alive. I took a moment to breathe it all in. A side I never let anyone see.

And a side I tried not to ind
ulge too often. Death was always in the forefront. A warrior’s life was never guaranteed to be long.

Turning toward the closed oak door that led to my library, I opened it, pleased to see that someone had lit the torches. This corridor was always dark
, housing not only my library, but a larger meeting room for private sessions with various leaders, my treasury and my own personal armory. I nodded to the guards who waited beyond the door—best to surprise anyone who thought to venture past the forbidden entrance.

The men greeted me with grins that practically shouted
questions regarding the guests in my chamber. If they were nay on duty, I’d offer them a chance to sample the wares. But alas, I needed them to guard this sacred corridor.

Ewan stepped from my library. “My laird, Tavish and Collum await ye.”

I nodded, entering the library to find two of our most prized scouts on the edge of their seats. Both of them sat rigid, weariness written into the creases of their furrowed brows.

“My laird,” Tavish said, jumping up and then bowing. Collum followed suit.

“Sit, lads. Tell me what news.”

They nodded,
unruly brown locks whipping in and out of their faces. The lads’ skin was darkened, attesting to the time they spent roaming the Gealach holdings. Wiry but strong, the scouts were hard runners and even harder riders, able to shoot an arrow from a swiftly weaving horse and always hit their marks. Regaining their seats, Collum’s and Tavish’s feet began to tap with anxiousness.

“Ships
, my laird,” Collum burst out, licking his cracked lips and swiping at his freckled nose.

“Galleon
s?”

“
Aye, my laird. Half a dozen, I counted.”

“And I counted eight.”
Tavish added, swiping at his nose. An odd habit they both tended to do when on edge.

“Well, wh
ich is it? Six or eight?” I tried not to be irritated with the men.

Collum held up his hands
and shook his head. “Eight, my laird. Tavish here could hardly count he was too busy—”

“I am never too busy to complete my duty! If ye hadn’t been—”

I rolled my eyes. Collum and Tavish were not only my best scouts, they also happened to be twins. And they fought like wildcats for place as leader over one another. I walked behind the two and slapped a hand on each of their shoulders which gained their attention, letting them know who was in fact the dominant one in the room.

“Enough. Whether it was six or eight, we’ll know soon enough. Where did ye see them?”

“In the River Oich just to the north of Loch Ness, my laird.”

Their answer disturbed me. The enemy was close. They’d had to pass a few other strongholds. Had they bothered to stop and fight
? Was it possible some of their number were actually allies to Gealach—intent on working with myself and my men to take down the enemy ships they trailed?

Damn
the Lairds of the Isles. They certainly did complicate matters.

“Flags?”

They both shook their heads. At least they could agree on something. Too bad it wasna the answer I desired.

“Anything
distinguishing?”

They shook their heads in unison. “Regular gun boats, my laird,” Collum answered.

“Aye. Nothing so fine as the
Salamander
. But I did see the guns through my looking glass, about seven on one side and three on another.”

The
damn galleons better not be as fine as the
Salamander
, King James’ own vessel, which had brought his bride, Mary of Guise from France a few years ago. Still, ten guns total was a sizeable vessel.

“Were ye well hidden?”
‘Twas best to defeat an enemy if they didna think ye expected them. They’d be cockier that way. Cocky men always made mistakes.

“Aye, my laird,” Tavish answered. “
In our usual spot. As we rode over the Great Glen, we caught sight of vast slashes of white in the sky. Ship sails. We left our horses to graze and crawled atop a ridge to peek over the side toward the north of the loch, and there they were. Six ships.”

“Eight,” Collum corrected.

Ignoring their renewed argument, I walked to the window on the opposite wall, my battered and aged oak desk between me and the scouts. I stared out at the loch below. She churned, the frothy white tips of her waves growing wider as she swirled and bashed herself against the cliffs. From my vantage point I could just make out a half dozen black dots on the horizon. Six. “This means they came from the North Sea. Passed through Loch Lochy and Dunrobin Castle. Laird Sutherland is an ally. We willna let them pass by Gealach.” It was hard to know if the enemy galleons were after what was buried within Gealach’s walls or if they were intent on invading Scotland as a whole.