Kill or Be Kilt (22 page)

Placing his hands behind her head, Ian deepened the kiss. Instinctively, soft mewling sounds escaped. Rubbing his hands down her back, he pulled her bottom close, letting out a guttural moan as they made contact.

Elizabeth needed more. She rubbed her hands over his chest, feeling the strong, defined muscles that she knew lay beneath his tunic.

He smothered her lips with mastery, and the gentle touch of his fingers sent currents of desire through her. Trailing kisses down her neck, Ian slowly raised his hand to cover her breast. She melted into him and arched her back into his grasp.

She had never felt this…hot. She was burning for him.

When he forced open her mouth with his thrusting tongue, she savored every delicious moment. Her thoughts spun, her emotions whirled and skidded, and her body moved toward him instinctively. Her response was so powerful that for a long moment, she felt as if she were floating.

He slowly inched back. “I love ye more than words can say.”

Elizabeth had a burning desire for another kiss. Her betrothed needed to stop…talking. She pulled his head closer, and he gave her the kind of kiss her tired soul could melt into. He slipped his hands up her arms, ever so slowly, while she caressed the back of his neck.

He pressed her even closer, and she could feel his desire hardening against her belly. Blood surged from her fingertips to her toes with a giddy sense of pleasure. An undeniable magnetism was growing between them.

Ian pulled back and placed his forehead to hers. “We need to stop because verra soon I will be unable, and ye will nay longer think of me as a gentleman.” His voice was low and alluring.

An unwelcome blush crept onto Elizabeth's cheeks as she tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat. She was conscious of Ian's scrutiny. The man must think his betrothed some type of harlot for kissing him so wantonly in broad daylight.

Ian glanced down at his kilt and then placed his hand on the garden wall. Elizabeth had no idea it took every ounce of his being to stop because he wanted nothing more than to toss her skirts and take her like an animal. He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm his ardor.

“Let's wait here a moment or two longer,” said Ian, trying to think of anything other than Elizabeth's soft flesh and burying himself in her womanly heat.

“What's the matter? You look…pained.”

He chuckled. “That's a good word for it.” He glanced down at his tented kilt, and her eyes widened.

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

“Why are ye apologizing? Ye can see that I'm mad with need for ye.”

She placed her fingers over her lips as if he had told her a secret. If he weren't watching her, he wouldn't have believed it. Her expression became hungry and lustful. Lowering her hand, she extended her arm a few inches from his manhood. “May I touch you?”

Ian spoke through gritted teeth. “For God's sake lass, are ye trying to unman me?”

“Well, perhaps you'll let me touch you later then.” When her eyes raked over him with a passionate gaze, he spoke in a low tone.

“Be verra careful, Elizabeth. Your innocent words are enough to fire a man's blood. Furthermore, now that we're betrothed, I think it would be proper nae to share a bed again until we're wed.”

Her gentle laugh tinkled through the air. “Surely you're jesting.” When he didn't respond, she folded her arms over her chest. “You cannot offer me a gift such as that and then tell me we'll wait until we're wed. That will be
months
. Besides, you have taken my virtue, Laird Munro. I'm afraid I'm ruined for any other man.” She paused, surely thinking of more words to win the argument. “What difference does it make if you share my bed now or wait until after we're wed? You've already bedded me, and we're still going to be wed.”

“Nevertheless, ye are a lady. I should nae be wanting to ravish ye in the bushes in the middle of the garden at the English court.”

“You wanted to ravish me?” As if she realized what she'd said, she waved her hands in a dismissive gesture. “Never mind my words.”

Pulling her close, he kissed the top of her head and then patted her bottom. “When ye think about what I've said, ye'll see reason.” When he turned to walk out of the bushes, he heard her mumble under her breath.

“We'll have to see about that.”

* * *

Elizabeth smoothed her hair because she had a feeling her locks were tousled. She didn't need to look as though Ian had ravished her in the bushes—although, the thought did make her smile. At the same time, she stole a glance below his waist, and everything was back in its rightful position.

“Now I understand why Grace and Ravenna told me to never accept a man's invitation to walk alone in the gardens, especially at night.”

“Your sisters were giving ye fair warning all right, but they were referring to Englishmen and Spaniards, nae Scotsmen.” He pounded his chest with his fist. “We are honorable men and would ne'er take advantage of a lass—well, an unwilling lass anyway.”

Joy bubbled in her laugh and shone in her eyes. “Is this what I have to look forward to?”

“What do ye mean?”

“Is this what I can expect from you—this jesting? If so, I'm counting the days until we can start our life together as husband and wife.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder in a tender gesture. “I should wish every day to bring a smile to your face.”

Elizabeth jumped when her brother-in-law called out.

“Munro, was your walk everything ye'd hoped it would be?” asked Ruairi as he and Fagan made their way toward them.

Ian smiled, and when he did, he looked ten years younger. “Why donna ye ask my betrothed?”

Ruairi embraced Elizabeth. “I am happy for ye, lass. Congratulations on your betrothal. I'm sure your sisters will be happy for ye too.”

“Thank you.”

“Hell, it took ye two long enough,” said Fagan. “But I'm glad it was worth the wait—and trouble. Ye are both glowing, even the fierce Munro. And now, I believe he's turning red.”

“Arse.”

“Aye.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth spotted Lady Glamis sitting on a bench alone. “Pray excuse me a moment. I want to see how Lady Glamis fares.”

“We'll wait for ye here, lass,” said Ian.

As Elizabeth made her way to Lady Glamis, the poor woman sat hunched over on the bench in her green dress, the large hat on her head shielding her face from the sun. Elizabeth sat beside her and gently touched Lady Glamis's shoulder.

“Lady Glamis, it's lovely to see you. I'm glad you're out enjoying this fine weather.”

“Yes, Lady Elizabeth. One never knows how much time is left in this world. I tell myself every day that if I'm able to open my eyes in the morn, it's a good day.” The woman could barely lift her head, and her legs were shaking.

“I saw you earlier at the jousting tournament. It was an unfortunate turn of events. Poor Lord Dormer, I can only imagine what his family must be feeling.”

“What a horrible tragedy. At least they arrested the man responsible. He deserves what he gets for doing such a thing, especially in front of all those people.”

There was a brief silence, and Elizabeth treaded carefully. “I was surprised Lord Kinghorne escorted you to see the riders and their mounts this morn.”

“Why would that surprise you, my dear? Patrick is a good son. He loves his mother.”

“Of course he does. Was Lord Kinghorne acquainted with Lord Dormer?” All of a sudden, Lady Glamis's shaking legs stopped moving, and an eerie feeling swept over Elizabeth. When the air stilled, she felt uneasy, as if a spell had been cast upon her. “I would offer my condolences on the loss of his friend.”

“My son was not acquainted with Lord Dormer.”

“I'm so glad to hear it.”

When Lady Glamis's legs began to quiver again, Elizabeth knew her imagination was getting the best of her. But she needed to make certain her suspicions about the earl were nothing more than foolishness. She gently prodded for the answers.

“Did Lord Kinghorne ever leave your side this morn at the tournament? I wouldn't have wished anything to happen to you.”

“Lady Elizabeth, how lovely it is to see you on such a gorgeous day. Thank you for keeping Mother entertained in my absence.”

Elizabeth stood and gave Lord Kinghorne a small curtsy. “My lord, it was my pleasure. I didn't wish for her to be alone in the garden.”

“Yes, well, come along, Mother.” He assisted the woman to her feet. “You've had a busy day and should lie down.”

“Do not rush me, Patrick.”

“Take your time, Mother.”

“Lady Glamis, it was a pleasure to see you again.” Elizabeth glanced at the earl. “My lord.”

* * *

Patrick Lyon, Earl of Kinghorne, gazed at the slender back of Lady Elizabeth as she walked away. He was no fool and knew to keep a watch on her. After all, her sister and her uncle had been spies for the Crown. The last he needed was to add a meddling Walsingham into the mix. But being that Mildmay was no longer a problem, and Lady Elizabeth's sister hadn't accompanied her to court, he assumed it could have been worse.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked.

“She knows, Patrick.”

A shiver ran down his spine. “That's not possible. I was very careful.”

“She saw us this morning at the tournament.”

He shrugged. “That means nothing. I was able to change the tip of the lance in less than a minute. If anyone had seen me, I'd now be the one in the dungeon.”

“Lady Elizabeth is suspicious. She asked if you had ever left my side during the tournament.”

He gave her a measured look. “And what did you say?”

“I didn't say anything. You interrupted us. I'm tired of cleaning up your messes, Patrick. It's about time you clean up your own. I'm leaving this one for you. Do you think you can do that, or will you leave this up to your mother again?”

His face lit up. “I'll take care of Lady Elizabeth. And you know that I'd do anything for you.”

* * *

Ruairi, Fagan, Ian, and Elizabeth were standing in the hall as a male voice spoke from behind them. Instinctively, Ian rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Laird Sutherland?”

As the king's secretary stood before them, Ian felt as if the clouds had parted and the sun was finally in sight. He prayed the man came to deliver the news they'd all been waiting to hear since the day they'd arrived at the English court.

“The king will meet with you at noon the day after tomorrow.” He glanced at Ian. “And you as well, Laird Munro.”

“Is there any chance we can be granted an audience before then?” asked Ruairi. “My wife is with child.”

“I'm sorry, Laird Sutherland. That's the only time the king is available. His time is precious, and there are other pressing matters that require his immediate attention.”

As soon as the king's secretary departed, Ruairi shrugged. “Ye can nae blame a man for trying.”

“I'll be sure and tell Ravenna you tried your best to return to her and Mary,” said Elizabeth. “In two days, we'll be going home. You should all be thrilled there is an end in sight.”

“Ye have nay idea, lass,” said Fagan.

Ian placed his hand at Elizabeth's back. “Are ye ready to go to the library? I could use a nap.”

When she placed her elbow into his gut, Fagan laughed. “See what ye have to look forward to, Munro? Ye better get used to that. Our women donna hesitate to put us in our place, and rightfully so.”

“As long as that place is by Elizabeth's side, I donna mind.”

Fagan managed a choking laugh. “Munro, I could nae have said that better myself. And ye say ye're nae good with flowery words. Ye learn verra quickly. Be patient with him, Elizabeth. Remember all the kind words he says to ye now because I have nay doubt he'll make ye angry for plenty of days to come.”

“I have a feeling his words are true, lass. But until then, I could use a respite. Are ye ready to go to the library?” asked Ian.

“We'll meet ye for sup,” said Ruairi. “Good sleep, Munro.”

As Ian escorted Elizabeth to the library, he noticed even his walk had a sudden cheeriness. In two days, he'd be done with this madness and would take Elizabeth home. The thought gave him great pleasure, and he couldn't wait to start their life together.

“What do ye think your sisters are going to say when they hear the news about us?”

She looked at him and smiled. “Ravenna will be happy for us, Grace will wonder if I've gone mad, and as long as Torquil is by Kat's side, she couldn't care less.”

He chuckled. “Kat and Torquil used to chase each other—well, I think 'twas more like your sister giving chase to Torquil. They seem to have grown verra fond of one another.” Ian treaded carefully. “They nay longer look at each other as though they're brother and sister.” When he gave her a knowing look, she lowered her gaze.

“They're not bound by blood, and Katherine has grown up in the same home as Torquil. I wouldn't be surprised if what you say is true.”

As soon as they entered the library, Ian sought his soft chair. There were two men sitting at the long, wooden table with their noses buried in books. He couldn't say he wanted to do the same.

Her laugh reverberated through the room. “You weren't jesting.”

“Nay. I can see why ye enjoy the library. 'Tis nice and quiet. Wake me when ye're ready to take your leave.”

Ian closed his eyes, listening as the two men closed their books and replaced them on the shelf. The legs of a chair scraped against the floor, and their voices disappeared after a door closed. He could hear Elizabeth's footsteps as she wandered from book to book. When complete silence spread over the library, Ian fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

Elizabeth could die in this spot as a happy woman. She'd always had a love for reading and would ask Ian if his home had a library. Since she hadn't set foot on Munro lands for years, she couldn't remember. If he didn't, perhaps Ruairi would let her borrow some of his books to take along.

A door closed on the second floor. She didn't pay it any heed until a familiar male voice echoed through the library.

“What the bloody hell happened to your face?”

“The damn Highlander is what happened. Shhh…lower your voice.”

Elizabeth darted behind the steps to shield herself. She glanced at Ian, who still slumbered in the chair hidden from view from the second floor. Footsteps came midway down the stairs and stopped.

“Hello?”

She dared not breathe. When Mister Condell retreated up the stairs, she released the breath she held.

“There's no one here.”

What was Mister Condell doing with Lord Kinghorne? The men spoke in hushed tones.

“My sister told me what happened, and you know she's not happy. You were supposed to be careful,” said Mister Condell in a Spanish accent. “And now the chit is asking questions.”

“I was careful. If anyone suspected me, the king's guard would have taken me into custody by now.”

Elizabeth's blood pounded in her ears.

“
She
suspects you.” Mister Condell let out a sinister growl. “I thought when I killed Mildmay that would've cleared our path of obstacles, but the last we need is another Walsingham where she doesn't belong. At least her spying sister didn't accompany her to court. You know how much damage she's caused in the past.”

There was a heavy silence before Mister Condell continued. “I will not have my country at war with the English. That is a costly endeavor no one can afford. When the king dismissed parliament, luck was in our favor. But I don't want to leave anything else to chance. Everything is in order, and we will not fail. Within a sennight, the king will be lost without his faithful council to guide him. Heed my warning, Kinghorne, and do not contact me again. Do you understand?”