Cait and the Devil (20 page)

“Listen. Concentrate with your body. I won’t repeat any letters,” he warned.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

He began to trace the first letter on her stomach. She shivered at the ticklish sensation.

“Be still,” he said, fighting a smile.

He traced what might have been an X or a K, but
Cait
thought surely it must be a K.
An
I, that was easy enough, and then an S and another S. She licked her lips in expectation. He traced an M and then an E.

“What did I
spell,
wife?”

“Kiss me,” she answered with a shy smile.

“Gladly,” he replied, kissing her soundly. “But tell me now, what did I spell?”

She giggled. “Kiss me.”

“Oh, you are a greedy one.” He sighed, kissing her again, this time more deeply. “But what did I spell?”

“Duncan, you—” she began, but he cut her off with a teasing
tsk
.

“No, I didn’t spell Duncan.
Incorrect.
Turn over
and receive your penalty.”

With guilty pleasure, she turned her back to him. He landed a glancing blow on one buttock, and then the other.

“You are an unfair master.”

“Perhaps.
But you are a naughty pupil. One who sometimes enjoys punishment too
much.
”

“I think I’m not alone in that,” she commented drily, which earned her another sharp smack.

“All right.
Another word.”
He kissed and blew warm breath on the small of her back.
“This time on a more sensitive area.
Surely you’ll feel this with great accuracy.”

“I’m ready,” she said, squirming.

“Don’t try to distract me with your charms, wench,” he laughed. His fingers began to brush over the surface of her rounded buttocks.

Her eyes narrowed. “What...I cannot...”

“I haven’t started yet. Just lie still and let me touch you as I wish.”

“Yes, Duncan.”
She relaxed as he caressed her and soon began to probe her intimately.

“Oh... Oh, Duncan...”

“
Mmm
,” he rumbled, nuzzling her. “Pay attention. You’re distracted, wife.”

“You’re distracting me.” She squeaked as he breached her in both places with his fingers at once.

He drew one finger, wet with her dew, from between her legs and began to write on her left buttock. “Listen,” he whispered.

He drew an O she easily recognized,
then
a B which she had to concentrate hard to figure out, then an E, and the Y she expected. The M and E she expected too, and she moaned.

“Yes, Duncan.
I will.
Whatever you wish.
What do you wish?”

“Part your legs wider.” He pushed her down to the bed, coming over her back. His teeth closed on the back of her neck as he positioned his cock between her legs. Looking down, she saw the blood that remained from their earlier joining and it made her shiver with desire. She was his now, undeniably, indelibly his.
His true wife.
If she grew heavy with his child, it would be even more evident. She desperately craved for it to be so.

* * * * *

The next weeks were busy as the town and keep made preparations for winter.
Cait
tried to stay out of Duncan’s way, although they met as always at night in his bedroom. His lovemaking was as rigorous and thorough as ever. She grew to love the new way he took her, when he held her so close and thrust in her so deeply she thought she would die from the pleasure. When he used her that way, she felt closer to him than ever, although afterward, he often looked back at her with a frown. But she didn’t mind. She was happy and she knew he loved her, and that was her only care.

Cait
walked across the sand, having escaped to the beach for the day. She loved the fall air, the cooling temperatures and soothing ocean breezes. The beach was somewhat remote, but her guards let her visit it when she wished. She suspected Duncan might disapprove. She never asked his permission since he might expressly forbid her to go. If he knew how many gowns she’d ruined scurrying down the rocks to reach the small stretch of beach that could be walked upon, he would certainly punish her and forbid her to return.

Today, unfortunately, she had ruined another one. Even more unfortunately, she ran into Duncan and Lord Douglas while returning to the keep to change.

“Well, look here,” Lord Douglas cried. “Princess Ragamuffin is back from her playtime. Really, son, it boggles me that you let your wife comport herself in this fashion. Look at her gown.”

Annoyance at his father warred with true chagrin on Duncan’s face.
Cait
could see he was displeased.

“Where were you, Caitlyn?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to brush away the worst of the sand and dirt. “I have others. I was just returning to change.”

“I don’t care about the dress,” he said impatiently. He knew she had trunks full. He’d ordered them all for her himself. “Where have you been?
On the rocks?”

“Down on the beach,” she admitted. “But Desmond was with me. I didn’t go near the water. Isn’t it okay? I love to walk on the shore.”

She felt so forlorn and ashamed that he might be unhappy with her. She had done something she knew he would disapprove of, and now embarrassed him again in front of his father.

“You may walk on the beach if you wish,” he finally said. “But you must take better care of your belongings. Not every woman is so fortunate to have gowns such as yours.”

“I know.” She bowed to him submissively.
“Through your kindness.”

“Yes, through my kindness. You’ll take better care of them or you’ll be punished.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. Lord Douglas watched the whole exchange with narrowed, mocking eyes. Horrible man, she thought. She hoped he would not be around for very long this time.

* * * * *

As
Cait
made off for the keep with Desmond at her heels, Lord Douglas fell into step beside Duncan.

“I don’t know how you allow such impertinence—”

“Father,” Duncan interrupted, holding up his hand. “She’s my wife.
My problem.
No concern of yours.”

“And this wife is the one who will bear my family line?”

Duncan snorted.
“Family line.
Such as it is, when you call me your bastard.”

“Bastard or no, you have been a good son to me and brought much pride to my name with your service to the king. I would not see my grandchildren brought up by an addled woman such as
she
. They’d be lucky to survive infancy.”

Duncan gritted his teeth. He had no idea why his father disliked Caitlyn so much, except perhaps that he disliked and disapproved of everyone—everyone, that is, except himself.

“Caitlyn will be a fine mother. I’m sure that will shortly be proven out.”

“Shortly?
It’s been months since you’ve married and she’s not breeding yet, is she? I sincerely hope not, if she’s scaling over cliffs to cavort on a beach with the blessing of her husband. Alone with those boys you set to guard her.”

“Boys?
Desmond and the others are some of my most valued soldiers. He’s young, but he’s responsible and capable, just as the others are.”

“Capable,” laughed Lord Douglas. “I know how capable young men like that are. All the more surprising that you let them accompany your wife alone to these secluded haunts of hers.”

It was Duncan’s turn to laugh at his father’s outrageous suggestion. To imagine his shy, obedient
Cait
offering herself to her solemn-faced guards, or to imagine his most trustworthy men betraying the leader they worshipped. It was ludicrous.

“Father, believe me. There is no doubt in my mind that when she finally breeds, the child will be mine.”

“Your mother was a high placed woman who stepped out on her husband.”

“Yes, stepped out on him with you. My guards have more honor,” he muttered under his breath.

Douglas pretended not to hear that cutting remark, although Duncan could sense him ruffling with rage. “Well, she’s your wife. If that’s how you choose to govern her.”

“Yes, she is my wife,” Duncan snapped.

Henna,
Edana
, even his father had endless opinions on his treatment of her, endless judgments about something that was none of their concern. “She is my wife,
my
wife, and belongs to none other, so I’ll do as I see fit, father, now and for the rest of my life. I’ll thank you to remember that.”

“As you wish,” said Lord Douglas tersely. “You may do as you wish with your wife.”

* * * * *

You may do as you wish with your wife.
Yes, his foolish son could do as he pleased, but Douglas would do as he pleased too. He would have to take the girl and take her soon. Beat her, fuck her,
debase
her, whatever he could do to her. Seeing her again after several weeks had dampened neither her allure nor his desire.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t just lay hands on her. His son was overly fond of her, that he could tell. He coddled her. She would run to him at once the moment Douglas hurt her. Figuring out how to guarantee her unwilling silence would take planning and guile. No matter. He would put his mind to it. He would figure it out.
A man as immoral and depraved as he would have no problem trapping the girl.
He would make it work out so she was the one who burned with guilt and self-hatred for what he did to her, even though he would be totally to blame.

Chapter Twelve

That night, upstairs in the bedroom,
Cait
bared herself for her husband with downcast eyes. A small sound and gesture had her kneeling before the fire in the submissive posture he liked, the posture she often assumed when punished. He took off his thick belt and doubled it over in his palm. He wasn’t in the mood for offering reprimands or stern words. Sometimes he felt like lecturing his wife, but other times he simply felt like disciplining her. This was one of those times.

He wasn’t even sure why he disciplined her. She was a tomboyish rapscallion on her best days. She climbed trees and scaled rocks as much as she played the sedate mistress of the keep, so ruining her gown was hardly cause for punishment. He suspected he disciplined her this night out of frustration with his father, and with some messy politics to the north that were going to need his attention soon. So be it. She submitted to whatever he decided to dish out, deserved or not.

He felt the familiar powerful arousal as he began to punish his wife. She jerked at the stinging contact of each blow. He was slow, intentionally making her wait for each stroke. He didn’t make her count out loud.

She was crying by the end, trembling in her effort to hold her pose, to not collapse on the floor to escape the belt’s blows. She rarely did that because it only brought her more. Still, he said nothing to her, neither encouraging nor chastising. He felt in a strange mood. She too seemed ill at ease. He knelt behind her, stroking his fingers up her back, then down between her legs.