Kill or Be Kilt (19 page)

He walked with hurried purpose to Fagan. “What the hell do ye want?”

“Your dancing skills have greatly improved. How many times did ye step on the lass's foot?” asked Fagan with a grin.

“Once. What do ye want?”

“
Sguir.
I know what ye're doing.”
Stop.

Ian gave Fagan a measured gaze. “Then ye're wise nae to get in my way.”

“Everyone has seen your display of affection for the lass in the middle of the floor. Be discreet. Ye donna want to ruin Elizabeth's reputation.”

“Says the same man who ruined his wife before they were wed.”

“Bastard.”

“Aye.”

“Just use caution, Munro. The last ye need is Ruairi wanting to run ye through.
Bi modhail.
”
Behave.

He slapped Fagan on the shoulder and spied Ruairi against the far wall talking with the other lairds. “Dinna fash. I'll follow your example.”

Ian turned, and he heard Fagan mumble under his breath, “That's what I'm afraid of.”

As he made his way to where he'd left Elizabeth by the door, he had to step around a few men and women huddled in conversation. When he cleared the crowd, he gazed around the great hall. His eyes darted back and forth through the sea of people. She wasn't where he'd left her.

The lass was gone.

* * *

“Lady Elizabeth, might I have a word?”

There was a pensive look in the shadow of Mister Condell's eyes. Perhaps it was simply Elizabeth's uneasiness toward the man, but she was suspicious about his motives. Why would he want to speak with her after their last encounter?

“Of course, Mister Condell.”

“Not here. Let's go in the hall.” He grabbed her by the arm and led her out.

When she tried to speak, her voice wavered. “Why couldn't we speak in the great hall? Is everything all right?”

He made his way down the hall into a quiet nook and then released her arm. As he stood in front of her, her back was pinned against the wall. This was probably not the best idea since she realized she had no means of escape.

“I've been thinking. Something has been troubling me, my lady, and I must know. Have I done something else to offend you?”

Elizabeth placed her hand to her throat as she became more uncomfortable by the minute. “No. Why do you ask?”

“We've shared our love of history. We've danced. I've sent you a flower and written you poetry. You came to see me in the play. Surely, you must know of my attempts to woo you. You had never mentioned your heart belonging to another, so yes, I must know if I've offended you in some way…before our kiss.”

“Mister Condell, please accept my apologies if I've misled you. I've enjoyed our talks, the play, and seeing Anne Boleyn's chambers very much, but there isn't anything more between us.”

He placed his hand above her shoulder on the stone wall. “So you've said. I saw you when you supped with Laird Munro. I watched him touch you after the dance. I can't imagine
that
Highlander is the man who holds your heart—yet, you let him touch you like a lover.” His eyes darkened, and his fingers caressed her cheek.

“Mister Condell…”

“Do you know what I think?” His body moved closer. “Some women prefer the chase, the excitement of the hunt, the moment when the hunter stalks and finally captures his prey.”

A warning voice whispered in her head. She needed to get out of there. “Could you please step back, Mister Condell? I need to return. My chaperones will be looking for me.” She instantly felt the hardness of his manhood—or lack thereof—rub up against her belly. He ground himself against her, and she closed her eyes tightly.

“Do you see what's become of me, Lady Elizabeth? Do you know what you do to me by denying me? No woman has ever refused to share my bed.” He grabbed her chin and turned her head to face him. When his lips crashed down on hers, she felt bile rise in her throat.

She tried to push him away, but his weight had pinned her body against the wall with no room to move. “Please, stop! Please!”

He grabbed her breast hard over her gown, and she gasped in pain. Lowering her hand to her side, she fumbled for her dagger but couldn't reach it. When he attempted to lift her skirts, she cried out. She decided to take the only piece of advice Ravenna had given her as an infallible way to deter a man.

Elizabeth wedged her hand between them, and when she felt the hardness that pushed against her, she reached lower and grasped his manhood like a vise. Mister Condell dropped to his knees. She refused to yield, furious at her vulnerability. A steely Scottish accent startled her.

“Release his bollocks, lass.” Ian's expression was thunderous.

As she released Mister Condell, he fell to the floor, and she stepped out of the way. Without warning, Ian pulled the man to his feet. He rammed his fist into Mister Condell's face, and something cracked under the forceful blow. Blood gushed from the man's nose. One punch was all it took to defeat Mister Condell and knock him to the ground, but Ian wasn't satisfied. With one hand, he pulled the man from the floor and landed another blow right in the eye.

“
Mo mhallachd ort! An diobhail toirt leis thu
!
”
My curse on you! The devil take you!
Ian wrapped his arm around Elizabeth. “Are ye all right?”

She nodded and could hear his labored breathing. “I am now.”

“You broke my nose, and hit me in the eye! I have the final performance in three days.” Mister Condell's hands cradled his nose as Ian chuckled.

“Mayhap ye can have Mistress Alexander fix your face, ye seedy bastard.”

When Ian saw Condell's hands on Elizabeth, he felt murderous. Members of the king's Privy Council were not the only men who needed to fear for their lives at court. Ian's first thought was to unsheathe his weapon and behead the arse right in the middle of King James's court. But he didn't think removing Condell's bonny head from his shoulders in front of Elizabeth would've made her feel any better. Although, he would've felt due justice was served.

As he led Elizabeth away from the bleeding Condell, he spotted the Fraser and called out.

“Munro. Lady Elizabeth.” Fraser glanced down the hall and then chuckled as Condell hobbled away. “Is that your handiwork?” For a moment, he had a puzzled look on his face. “Nay. The man would nae be alive if ye had a hand in that.”

“Can ye seek Sutherland and Murray for me? I will stay here with Lady Elizabeth.”

Fraser eyed Elizabeth. “Aye. Is everything all right, my lady?”

She gave a wooden nod. “Yes. Thank you, Laird Fraser. I'm afraid that I've had more than enough excitement for one eve. I'm weary and ready to take my leave.”

“Are nae we all? I'll be right back.”

“What happened, lass?” asked Ian.

She spoke calmly. “Please. I don't want to talk about Mister Condell right now. Could we discuss this later?” She wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his chest, and didn't seem concerned about who saw them embracing in the hall.

He rubbed his hand over her back and kissed the top of her head. “Aye. Ye're safe. Condell is ne'er going to touch ye again.”

As Ruairi and Fagan approached and saw Ian holding Elizabeth in his arms, their expressions instantly changed, especially when Ian gave them a grave look in return. Ruairi rested his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, and she gazed at him with tears in her eyes.

“
A bheil thu ceart gu leòr?
”
Are you all right?

“I'd like to return to the inn. Please.”

She pulled away from Ian and, not even waiting for Ruairi's response, walked away from the men. As Fagan followed her down the hall, Ruairi asked, “What the hell happened?”

“I donna know the tale, but Elizabeth was supposed to wait at the entrance of the great hall while I talked with Fagan. The next I knew, Condell had his hands all over the lass in a nook down the hall. When I came upon them, she had the bastard by the bollocks.”

“Does he still live?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that? I am nay fool. I can nae say that I did nae mess up his bonny face a wee bit, but aye, he lives for the moment.”

“I'll talk to Elizabeth when we get back and find out what happened. Do ye think he touched the lass?”

Ian knew what Ruairi meant. “Nae that way, nay. But I know he forced himself on her and took liberties in ways that nay man should ever…” He had to pause and collect himself. “Ye do realize if we were in the Highlands I would've cut off the bastard's hands and handed him his cock before I killed him.”

Ruairi slapped him on the shoulder. “Aye, and I would've helped ye.”

“Let me be the one to talk with the lass.”

“I am her chaperone.”

“Aye, but I am the one who will be her husband.”

* * *

Refusing to let anyone ride with her, Elizabeth sat in the darkened carriage alone. All the men had offered to accompany her, but she didn't feel up to conversing. How could she have been such a fool not to see Mister Condell for who he truly was? Now she knew why Ravenna and Grace had warned her so many times before she'd left for court. Even though they'd told her never to accept a man's offer to walk in the gardens at night, Elizabeth never suspected anything untoward would have happened within the palace walls.

She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath. When the carriage stopped, she waited until the door opened and then took the coachman's hand to step down. A male voice spoke from behind her.

“I'll send Mistress Betts up to ye. Is there anything ye want or need me to bring ye?” asked Ian with concern.

“No, thank you. I just want to seek my bed.” When she stepped away, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and turned her to face him.

“Ye know that I'm here for ye if ye want to talk.”

She gave him a tired smile. “I know. I'll see you in the morn.”

“Sleep well, lass.”

As soon as Mistress Betts left her chamber and closed the door, Elizabeth blew out the candle and embraced the darkness. Her cheeks ached from where she had rubbed her face raw, wanting nothing more than to remove every trace of that man from her body. She pulled up the blankets to her chin and closed her eyes.

The memory of Mister Condell's roaming hands sent a chill down her spine. No woman should be treated that way. Ian was such a strong and powerful man, yet she knew he would never physically harm her. She was sickened by Mister Condell's behavior, especially since she mulled over the evening's events. Ravenna had told her that men should never take from a woman what was never offered, even a kiss. Elizabeth hadn't realized at the time how right her sister was.

Shadows contorted under her door from the light in the hall. She was never going to sleep with only her misery for company. Perhaps she thought too hastily when she asked to be alone. As footsteps treaded past her door, she sprung from the bed. She cracked open the door, sticking her head out and peeking down the hall. Fagan was staring at her with a lifted brow.

“Are ye all right?”

She hid her body behind the door since she wore only her nightrail. “Yes, I was…er, seeing—”

“Waiting for Ian?” He gave her a knowing look, and she returned a sheepish grin.

“Yes.”

“He will nae be long. He was coming right behind me.” No sooner did Fagan say the last word then Ian turned into the hall. “
Oidhche mhath
, Elizabeth. Munro.”

“Good night, Fagan,” said Elizabeth.

As Ian stood before her, she let out a little nervous cough. She couldn't look him in the eye and bit her bottom lip. The door partially covered her body, and she was running her hand along the edge of the door.

“Do ye want me to come in, or are ye going to leave me in the hall?”

She spoke in a broken whisper. “I want you to come in.” She donned her robe and then shut the door as Ian lit the bedside candle.

He turned and measured her for a moment. Without any words, he removed his scabbard from his belt and rested his sword against the wall. His eyes darkened with emotion, and when he extended his arms, she stepped into his warm embrace.

“I don't want to be alone.”

He rubbed her back. “I thought as much, lass.”

“Oh, Ian. I can't get that man out of my head. I told him to stop. I must have done something to make him think I'd toss my skirts. Was it the way I dressed? What did I do?”

He pulled back and held her face firmly with both hands. For a long moment, she looked at him. “
Sguir.
”
Stop.
“There is naught ye did, and there is nay excuse for Condell's actions. The bastard makes the rest of us look poorly. There are men like Condell in the world, Elizabeth, men who think they can take anything and that everything belongs to them. They're dangerous fools. For as long as I live and breathe, nay one will ever touch ye like that again. I give ye my solemn vow.”

Tears fell down her cheeks, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “I give ye my body to protect ye, my heart to love ye, and my soul for all eternity. I am yours.” He stepped over to the bed and pulled back the blankets. “Ye've had a long day and need to rest.”

She closed the distance between them, and her fingers rested on his chest. “But I don't want you to go.”

“I'm nae going anywhere. Come now, lass.” Ian gestured to the bed, and as she nestled into the mattress, he covered her with the blankets. He bent over her, placing a kiss on the top of her head, and brushed the hair away from her face. When he lowered himself to the floor beside the bed, she sat up.

“What are you doing?”

“I told ye. I'm nae leaving. I'm sleeping on the floor.”

“Ian, please don't sleep on the floor. Come lay beside me.” When his eyes became sharp and assessing, she added, “Don't give me that look. I trust you. I desire to be in your arms and need to erase the evening from memory. I can lay with you on the floor if you'd like.”

He rose and rubbed his hand over his brow. “Ye are nae going to sleep on the floor. I will come to your bed.”

* * *

Ian held Elizabeth in his arms, realizing she was everything good and pure in this world. She made him a better man. He hadn't realized something was missing in his life until he found her, and she captured his heart.

She rested her head on his chest as her hand moved in tiny circular motions. “You make me feel safe.” Raising herself on her elbow, she hovered over him, her long hair falling over him like a waterfall. As she ran her fingers through his hair and along his jaw, her voice became as soft as a caress. “I love you. You need to know that.”

Her mouth gently pressed against his, and the touch of her lips set him aflame. Burying her face in his neck, she breathed a kiss there, and he wondered where this lovely enchantress had come from. Just when he thought she'd pull back, the lass reclaimed his lips, each time encouraging him to kiss deeper…harder.

When he could no longer hide his body's reaction to her, he stilled her. “I will nae deny that I am enjoying this immensely, but we must stop. I—”

His words were smothered on his mouth. When her body moved to partially cover his, he growled and rolled her onto her back. His lips recaptured hers, demanding this time, as she returned his kiss. He took her mouth with a savage intensity and couldn't get enough.

Lowering his hand, he unfastened her robe and was that much closer to touching her soft flesh. When she tugged on his tunic, he stilled, gazing into her eyes.

“I want to feel you, Ian. I want to be with you, only you.”

He sat up and grasped behind him, pulling off his tunic one-handed. Elizabeth ran her fingers along the defined lines of his bare chest, reaching for him as though he was her lifeline from this world into the next. When she looked up with passion-glazed eyes, he slowly removed her robe and tossed it across the room.

His body covered hers, and he placed a kiss on her lips, jaw, and throat between each word. “I would ne'er ruin a lass, especially ye.” He met her eyes. “I have ne'er known a lass quite like ye. Ye know me better than I know myself. I want naught more than to be with ye, claim ye as my own. I've ne'er wanted anything so badly in all my life. But if we do this, there will be nay turning back. Ye will be mine, and I will be yours.
Am pòs thu mi? Tha gràdh agam ort.
”

Her eyes lit up. “I'm afraid you'll have to speak English, my laird.”

When Elizabeth addressed him as her laird, his entire being was filled with wanting and desire. “Will ye marry me? I love ye.”

She closed her eyes tightly as a single tear ran down her cheek. She lifted her hand gently to his jaw and gave him a tender smile. “I want nothing more than to be your wife.”

Their vow was sealed with a tender kiss.

It wasn't long before Ian was on fire. He had never been more aroused in his life. Elizabeth's innocent touches were driving him mad. His honorable intentions were forgotten, and all he could think of was tearing off her nightrail and thrusting inside her until the burning stopped.

His kisses became more demanding. He wanted her to know what she did to him. Never had he experienced this kind of urgency. She was so hot and willing. He could not get enough.

His tongue circled hers, probing in an anxious rhythm that mirrored his pulsing erection. Her soft whimpers only heated his desire. He slid his hands down to her waist and over her hips, molding every sweet curve closer to his body.

He tugged on her nightrail, enough to pull it past her shoulders, and his fingers encircled her breasts. The soft pink flesh was more than enough to fill his hands. He lifted her breast to his lips and flicked her nipple with his tongue.

“Elizabeth, ye taste so sweet,” he murmured.

He cupped her mounds with his rough hands, and she groaned as he caressed their softness. He wanted to savor her sweetness.

Easing his hand under the hem of her nightrail, he slid up the center of her silky thigh. She moaned against his ear and was so damn responsive. His finger swept her sex…so wet. She was more than ready.

He teased her with his hand, and her hips arched against him. Her tiny whimpers increased in urgency as she grabbed his arms, sculpting his muscles. God's teeth! She was going to come apart in his hand.

When he felt her break apart, he pressed his finger against the sensitive part of her. His tongue delved into her mouth with the same rhythm as his finger pressing against her womanly heat.

She arched her back and cried out his name. He could not take his eyes off her. She was so tempting with her lips slightly parted and her passion-glazed eyes. Her desire and responsiveness drove him wild.

God how he needed to be inside her.

Ian lifted her arms and pulled off her nightrail as she lay bare beneath his sultry gaze. He removed his kilt and dropped it to the floor. When she lowered her gaze and her eyes widened, he drugged her with kisses. His roughened hand slid across her silken belly down to the swell of her hips, rekindling her passion.

“Ye are so verra bonny, Elizabeth.”

He took her mouth with a savage force. Lowering his head, his tongue tantalized her hardened nipples. Instinctively, her body arched toward him. As he slipped his hands up her arms ever so slowly, she caressed the strong tendons in the back of his neck.

She gasped as he pressed his body against hers, the evidence of his desire rubbing against her belly. Moving his hands below her, he gripped her thighs, lifting her gently to straddle him. It was flesh against flesh, man against woman. He let out a tormented groan.