Highland Captive (19 page)

Aimil
stood watching them disappear and sighed. He did look magnificent upon Elfking.
They were two strong yet graceful male animals. She simply wished she did not
feel as if she was always giving but never gaining. Forcing away such
depressing thoughts, she smiled at Lagan and Malcolm as they rode up to her.
She wished that they did not look so sympathetic. It made her fear that her
feelings were all too easily read.

“We
willnae have to go and find where your beast has tossed him, will we?”

“Nay,
Malcolm.” She smiled a little. “Ye may have to search him out to remind him
that he has work to do though.”

Parlan
had to remind himself sharply of the plans he had made. Reluctantly he reined
in, sitting and gazing around at his lands briefly before returning. He also
savored the feeling of sitting astride one of the finest pieces of horseflesh
he had ever seen.

“She
isnae slow of wit, Elfking. She kens what she has done. I just wonder if she
kens the why of it.”

He
continued to think about that as he returned to collect her. They rode back to
Dubhglenn in relative silence. He then shooed her away so that he could see to
Elfking’s rubdown and order the preparations for his journey. It did not really
surprise him to see Malcolm lingering for the man had never approved of his
plans to gain the stallion.

“So
ye finally got your arse on the back of her horse.”

“Aye,
Malcolm. I mean to ride him to the Dunmores.”

“Ye
will make a fine show.”

“We
will that.”

“She
has given ye a verra fine gift.”

“She
has. ‘Tisnae a gift though but a sharing.”

“Ye
dinnae mean to keep the beast in your own stables?”

“Aye,
I do, but I mean to keep his mistress in my own private stable as weel.”

“So
ye have decided that, have ye?”

“I
think I would be a great fool to let this one slip away.”

“Weel,
I wouldnae be saying so,” Malcolm drawled, slowly grinning.

“Mayhaps
not, but ye have been thinking on it. Nay, the thought entered my head that
first night and hasnae faded, only grown to a conviction. She will make a fine
lady of Dubhglenn. I will see to that when I return from the Dunmores.”

“Are
ye taking that bitch, Catarine, with ye?”

“She
willnae go. She claims she prepares to return to Stirling.”

Malcolm
made a sound of scornful disbelief. “She means to fill the wee lass’s head with
poison about ye.”

“Aye,
I ken it. She has been trying that since she got here. I cannae toss her out
though. ‘Tis my hope that Aimil will trust in all I have said on the matter and
recall where I have spent all my nights despite Catarine’s lavish invitations.
T’will come to a test of trust. Keep a close eye upon the Mengues.”

“I
cannae stop twa lasses from fighting.”

Parlan
laughed. “Nay, my thoughts veered without warning. Watch for an attempt to
escape.”

“Ye
think she will try?”

“On
her own, mayhaps not. I should like to think she would be reluctant to leave
me. So too will I have her prized Elfking. Howbeit, her brother lingers here
and may spur her on. He cannae ken what I have decided. The plan he and I first
talked of has taken too long to work, and I cannae blame him if he thinks I
play him for a fool.”

“To
take her home is to take her to Rory Fergueson. He willnae do that.”

“He
will no doubt have many a plan to keep her out of Rory’s grasp. He may even
think to bestir me in some way.”

“So
why dinnae ye tell him how ye be thinking?”

“I
have no time to do it right now. Just keep a verra close eye on the pair. They
are canny brats,” he muttered as he strode out of the stables and headed for
his chambers within the keep.

Aimil
watched Parlan pack and tried to act as if she did not care that he was
leaving. It was not an easy pose to hold. The only good she could find in it
all was that Catarine was not going with him, but then she wished heartily that
Catarine was going somewhere.

He
had jested about having no need for wenching but that was no calming vow of
fidelity. There was no reason for him to give her such a thing as she was but a
captive for ransom who was convenient to serve his needs. Since she doubted
that the Dunmore keep was without women, there would assuredly be ones there
offering to warm his bed. There were no doubt past lovers there eagerly
awaiting his return. She could not confidently envision him refusing a willing
woman and that hurt.

“Ye
are looking a wee bit dowie. Going to miss me?” Parlan sat down on the bed at
her side.

“I
am merely fretting over Elfking. He has never gone anywhere without me,” she
huffed.

“Weel...”
He grinned as he pushed her down onto the bed, gently pinning her beneath him. “I
think I best leave ye something to remember me by.”

“Ye
cannae mean to do that now?”

“Och,
lassie, ye are always saying I cannae and I must show ye that I can.”

Aimil
forced a scowl to her face as she struggled back into her clothes. “Ye are a
rogue, Parlan MacGuin.”

“Aye,
I ken it.” He laughed and neatly avoided her attempt to hit him. “Thought ye
ought to have a proper fareweel.”

“That
was far from proper. Who goes with ye?” she asked, not truly interested but
feeling a need to keep talking.

They
kept talking until he was mounted upon Elfking and ready to ride out. Parlan
knew it would have soothed her troubled feelings a great deal if he would tell
her how tempted he was to take her with him. He resisted the temptation,
however, for that could easily cause more trouble than it solved. Until he
openly declared otherwise, she was a prisoner for ransom and should stay at
Dubhglenn.

Before
all, he gently kissed her farewell. He knew she would not understand what the
gesture meant to the ones watching. If there was a man at Dubhglenn who thought
to take advantage of Parlan’s absence, he would now think again. Parlan would
not take such a public and fond farewell of a woman who was no more to him than
a prisoner for ransom and a convenient vessel for his lusts.

As
he rode away, he told himself not to take it to heart if she did try to escape.
She had no reason to believe that she was anything more than a prisoner no
matter how well-treated she was. Even Leith, despite the discussions they had
had, could not be sure that Parlan could or even would do as he had said he
would. Leith could well think it his duty to free Aimil and end any further
extortion of his father. It would be easy enough for Leith to make Aimil see it
as her duty too. Until she was offered more than a place in his bed, it was her
duty for she certainly had no cause to feel that she owed him any fealty or
even that he wished it of her.

Suddenly
he wished he was back at Dubhglenn and not forced to visit the Dunmores. Parlan
saw that he might well have erred in waiting so long to decide what he wished
to do about Aimil. For once he might have been too cautious.

Although
he tried not to recognize that there was a chance that she and Leith could
escape, he knew they were clever enough to succeed in such a venture. He would
then have to find a way to get her back. A direct approach would gain him
nothing for she was still promised to Rory Fergueson until that man either
revealed his true self to Lachlan Mengue or repudiated Aimil. Parlan realized
that by being so wary, he could well have let himself in for a great deal of
trouble.

He
also recognized that he could do nothing about it until he returned from the
Dunmores, a visit he was now intending to make as short as possible. It was
suddenly imperative to settle things between himself and Aimil. As soon as he
returned to Dubhglenn, he would arrange an appropriate setting and let her know
that she was no longer simply his prisoner and lover.

An
uncustomary sense of nervousness, almost uncertainty, came over him. Even the
fact that he was riding to the Dunmores on Elfking did not banish the unease he
felt. For the first time in his life, he was planning to offer a woman more
than a brief time of pleasure. Parlan wryly admitted that it was not going to
be as cut and dried a matter as he had thought. Now that he had made the
decision, he easily forsaw complications. Telling himself not to look for
trouble did not really stop him from doing it.

Riding
into the Dunmore keep on Elfking caused all the excitement he could have wished
for. He found himself wishing that Aimil was at his side, she on Elfking and he
on Raven. There was no doubt in his mind that such a sight would have impressed
the Dunmores as much if not more. He was determined to show them such a sight
on his next visit, a visit to introduce the mistress of Dubhglenn.

Being
careful not to cause offense, Parlan nonetheless made it clear that he was
making only a short stop. He used the situation concerning the Mengues as a
reason for the haste he displayed. Since the value of such captives was
recognized without explanation, the excuse served him well.

Several
women made it clear that they would be more than willing to fill his bed, but
he paid them no heed even though a few of them had pleasured him well enough
during past visits. He found himself feeling slightly ashamed of his past. It
occurred to him that he had been greedy and without restraint. Wincing
inwardly, he wondered if there would be any place he could take Aimil where
there would not be some woman or women whom he had bedded. He had enjoyed far
more than his share and was suddenly not very proud of it.

Lying
in his bed, he found that he missed Aimil. For nearly four months they had
shared a bed. He now found that he hated sleeping alone. Even when they had
slept back to back, not wrapped in each other’s arms, it had been comforting to
know that he had only to turn over and to reach out to find warmth, loving, or
simply someone to talk to. He decided a bed without Aimil was something he
would do his best to avoid in the future. He wondered, even hoped it was so, if
Aimil found an empty bed as distressing as he did.

Aimil
sighed with heartfelt despair as she crawled into Parlan’s large bed. Even if
she did not love him, it would have been nearly impossible to find someone able
to fill his place. The absence of a man like Parlan made for a very empty bed.

She
could not help but wonder if the bed he now slept in was as empty as hers. It
was hard to think he would refuse a bed partner, and she had no doubt that
there would be some available. His appetite was far too large to go hungry
voluntarily.

Cursing,
she turned onto her stomach and forced her eyes shut. It might have been easier
to fool herself into thinking that he would be faithful if she did not have
Catarine’s poison seared into her mind. What confidence she had gained was
consistently eroded by Catarine’s venomous words despite all her efforts to
ignore the woman. A little spitefully she wished Catarine joy of her own empty
bed. The woman seemed to be the sort who would find an empty bed too much of a
deprivation to endure for long.

“He
hasnae been to see me since he ordered the flogging,” Artair groused as he
watched the scantily-clad Catarine move to the window.

“Ye
erred in touching his precious Aimil,” Catarine snarled. “B’Gad, I am fair sick
of that child. ‘Tis her innocence he likes. That is all.”

Artair
did not think so but was wise enough not to say it. He was healed enough to be
eager for a woman, and Catarine’s presence in his chambers plus her alluring
attire indicated she would be willing to accommodate him. It would not be wise
to raise her ire. Her particular skills in bed were well known, and he intended
to do nothing that would stop her from giving him a sample. In Catarine’s case
he knew that Parlan would not have any objections to Artair’s tasting what
Parlan had already enjoyed and had so firmly and clearly set aside.

“Weel,
she will soon be back with her kin and wed to Rory Fergueson. They are
betrothed.”

“Parlan
means to stop that wedding.”

“So
I heard, but I cannae see how he means to do it. She isnae a MacGuin he can
rule and order about,” Artair countered.

“Nay,
but neither is she kept under lock and key,” Catarine said slowly, her look
thoughtful as she turned to face Artair.

Distracted
by his own inner discord, Artair was not at first aware of the air of plotting
Catarine exuded. “Nay, she isnae. In a lot of ways she is near to a guest.”

“That
could be ended at any time,” she mused aloud. Nearing the bed and thinking
that, although he was young and not the man his brother was, Artair was not one
to be tossed aside especially when she was so hungry for a man.

“What
do ye mean?”

“Just
that Parlan has never been one for constancy,” she said as she sat on the bed.

He
did not believe her. Even as she leaned toward him and he eagerly met her kiss,
he finally sensed her plotting. Her animosity toward Aimil was no secret. That
she would plot against the girl was entirely possible.