Taming the Highland Bride (17 page)

Apparently frustrated by the trouble her gown was giving him, Alex finally tore his mouth from hers to get a look at the matter, and Merry sucked in some much needed air. She then caught at his hands and gasped, “Husband, please.”

Her plea fell on deaf ears. Alex didn’t even acknowledge it, and her fear turned to anger as a ripping sound filled the air and her gown dropped away, leaving her in only her chemise. Merry didn’t even think about what she was doing, she just suddenly balled up her fist and plowed it into her husband’s face.

That got his attention, and he turned a shocked face to meet her gaze. Merry immediately noted that besides being dilated, his eyes were slightly glazed now.

“Alex?” she asked with concern, some of her anger dropping away. “What’s wrong? What is happening?”

He gave his head a shake like someone trying to awake from a dream and then pulled her into his arms. “I need you Merry. Now.”

“All right,” she said soothingly, trying to ease the tight hold he had on her. Merry could hardly get air into her lungs he was squeezing her so close. She’d never seen him like this, she’d never seen anyone
like this, but it seemed obvious to her that he was not himself. “’Tis all right.”

She was trying to soothe him, but Alex took that for permission though she didn’t realize it until he growled, “Oh, thank God,” by her ear and suddenly carried her down to the ground.

Merry stiffened in surprise and raised her hands to try to push him away again, but he was already gone, raising himself to kneel before her and begin tearing at his own clothes.

“Husband, ye need to stop and think,” she said anxiously, sitting up on the furs. “Something is wrong. Ye’re actin’ like a madman.”

“Aye,” he growled, tearing his tunic off over his head and tossing it aside. “’Tis what you do to me. You are making me crazy.”

“Nay,” she said quickly as he began to work at the ties of his braies. “I think ye may have been given something. Ye’re no’ right in the head at the moment. Ye—”

Her words ended on a gasp as he got his braies untied, let them drop to his knees, and then suddenly pushed her back on the furs. In the next heartbeat, he’d fallen on her like a starving man on a feast. His mouth was on hers, silencing her again, and his hands were everywhere even as he tried to slide his leg between hers and force them apart. But knowing she wasn’t ready for him and afraid he would hurt her, Merry fought him. She hooked her ankles around each other to keep her thighs tightly closed and twisted half onto her side beneath him so that, short of forcing her, he could not do what he wished.

Apparently, he wasn’t so far gone he was willing to force her. After a brief struggle, Alex lifted his head, freeing her mouth again to say, “Please, Merry.”

“I’m no’ ready. Ye’ll hurt me,” she cried, desperate to get the words out before he renewed his attack.

Alex froze at once and raised himself up slightly to peer at her. Merry knew there was fear in her eyes and suspected that more than anything reached through whatever madness was claiming him. They were still for a moment, both panting slightly as they stared at each other, and then she saw Alex’s mouth tighten. At first, she feared he was about to renew his assault, and he did, but not as she’d expected. He took a deep breath, held it briefly, and then let it out as his mouth descended again. This time, however, he had more control over himself. His mouth on hers was firm and demanding, but not desperate and overwhelming as it had been. Despite herself, Merry felt herself slowly respond, a warm tingling running the length of her body and gradually warming her.

The moment she relaxed a bit beneath him with relief at this new approach, Alex drew his mouth away and began to slide it across her cheek and down her neck. When he reached the neckline of her shift, he didn’t pause but simply kept going, his lips traveling across the cloth until it found and closed over one nipple, suckling on it through the material until the chemise was damp.

“Oh,” Merry breathed with surprise as his tongue moved the damp material across her nipple, sending excitement shivering through her. Her hands moved to cup his shoulders rather than push at
them as he did this, and her eyes drifted closed only to pop open again at the sound of rending material. It wasn’t until he suddenly lifted his head out of the way that she realized he’d caught her chemise by the hem and was tearing it up the center.

Knowing it was too late to save the under tunic now, Merry bit her lip on the protest that tried to get out and lay still as he finished the task and pushed the two halves aside. She now lay bared to his view. His gaze slid over her pale skin and then to her face. Alex took in her wary expression and then renewed his assault, but it was nothing like that first one. The possibility that he would hurt her had got through whatever madness had claimed him, and while he still appeared focused on one goal, that goal had changed slightly. His determination now all appeared to be on rousing her passions.

Despite the frightening start, it took very little effort for him to do that. Merry soon found herself moaning and writhing beneath the magic of his fingers and mouth. It was only moments later when he thrust himself into her, but she welcomed him with a cry that had nothing to do with fear or pain and everything to do with pleasure. Unfortunately, he’d barely sheathed himself inside her warm body when Alex went stiff and spilled his seed.

When he then collapsed on top of her with a groan, Merry’s breath left her on a disappointed exhalation. It did seem incredibly unfair that he finally took the time to get her all wound up and then left her feeling…

Well, actually, she was frustrated, Merry ac
knowledged unhappily and wiggled beneath him, wishing he’d get off her so that she could breathe. Alex murmured something she didn’t quite catch, and thrust his hips reflexively. She stilled at once as she realized that he was still hard, or hard again. She wasn’t sure which, but didn’t think it was normal. The night they’d consummated the wedding he’d recovered himself and taken her back to the realms of pleasure a good five or six times, but there had been some time between each recovery.

Merry immediately forgot her frustration and started thinking about his dilated eyes and the possibility of his having ingested something that was affecting him this way.

“Husband?” she whispered, trying to turn her head to see his face, but it was buried in her neck and not visible to her at the moment. Still, she asked, “Husband, did ye drink or eat anything unusual this eve?”

Alex remained still for a moment and then levered himself up on his arms, only to pause as the movement made him shift deeper inside her. The action sent a shaft of pleasure shooting through her, and—judging by the expression on his face—through him, too. Merry held her breath and merely stared up at him as the shock waves of pleasure shivered through her. Just as they began to ease, Alex withdrew slightly and thrust back into her again.

Merry had been about to repeat her question, but instead, a groan slid from her lips and she grabbed at his upper arms, holding on as her body instinctively arched into the move.

“Husband,” she gasped, trying to keep her body still when it wanted nothing more than to wrap itself around him and urge him on. “We need to—”

“Aye,” he growled, and thrust again, this time with more vigor.

“Oh God,” Merry gasped, and couldn’t keep her knees from rising on either side of his hips so that she could angle herself to accept him more deeply. “We need to—to talk about—Oh God,” she whimpered as he drove in once more, this time angling himself so that he rubbed against the nub of her excitement with the action.

“Later,” he growled, withdrawing enough to plunge forth again.

“Later,” Merry agreed on a groan, giving up the battle. It would be all right, she assured herself as he shifted to his knees, caught her hips, and began to thrust himself into her with deep, steady thrusts that soon left her unable to talk at all. If he was suffering under the effects of a drug or tonic, it didn’t appear to be hurting him really. At least not that she could tell. She could ask her questions later, Merry decided, clasping his hips and arching herself into him as her ability to think gave way altogether.

Alex eased away from Merry, trying not to disturb her any more than necessary. She might not be asleep, but he wouldn’t be surprised if she was and didn’t wish to wake her if that was the case. He’d kept her up all night with his needs, taking her again and again, collapsing with satisfaction and exhaustion, only to find himself unable to keep from reaching
for her once more. It had been like a madness, one he’d barely had control of.

In fact, at first, he hadn’t had control at all, Alex admitted to himself unhappily. He could still recall her struggles, hear her cry of “I’m no’ ready. Ye’ll hurt me,” and see the fear that had been on her face then. It was that fear that had helped snap him back to some semblance of sanity. It had been the only thing to help him leash in the all-consuming need that had driven him.

Alex had never in his life experienced such an overwhelming hunger. He’d been mindless with it until that point, his entire focus only on sinking himself deep in her body and driving into her until the need ravaging him had been eased. The fear on her face, however, had helped him gain enough control to take at least a few moments to stir her passions, too. Alex had held out as long as he could, but feared she’d been only mildly excited by the time he’d claimed her. He, however, had exploded the moment her moist heat had closed around him. It hadn’t been satisfying for either of them, though, and what was worse, the moment she’d moved beneath him his hunger had reared again, returning almost fully blown.

It wasn’t natural, Alex thought now, his mouth going flat. And, even worse, that unnatural hunger had reared inside him again and again through the night, giving neither of them rest…Until now, he thought wearily as he shifted off the furs and began to feel around for his clothes. Now, finally, as night came to a close, his body had decided it had had
enough and would not trouble him again with needs neither he nor his poor wife had the energy to meet.

That was truly a relief, Alex decided, giving up on finding his clothes in the dark and moving across the tent floor on his knees until he bumped into the chest where he knew a candle and flint waited. With a little effort and a few soft curses he managed to light the candle. Alex then turned, his eyes searching out his wife. Merry lay crumpled among the furs where he’d set her, skin pale but for the bruises under her closed eyes. She looked completely and utterly spent, and he mentally kicked himself for using her so hard through the night.

Not that he hadn’t given her pleasure; Alex knew he had, but he’d also been relentless and demanding.

Blowing out a breath, he forced his eyes away from Merry and began to look for his braies. All he really wanted to do was curl up beside his wife and sleep for a week to make up for the energy expended this night, but his body, once again, cared little for what he wanted. It wanted to be emptied, and he knew he wouldn’t rest until he’d relieved himself.

Spotting his braies, Alex moved to collect and don them. He considered donning his tunic as well, but then decided to save the energy and left it to head out of the tent. His eyes slid over the dark camp as he moved around the tent, noting that everyone was still sound asleep and all appeared well.

Eager to get back to the tent, and, he hoped, manage at least a little bit of sleep before the sun rose, he was quick about his business. Alex had
just finished and was tucking himself back into his braies when the snap of a twig behind him made him stiffen and start to turn. That start was all he managed before pain suddenly burst in his head. It was such an all-encompassing explosion of agony that he wasn’t even aware of falling to the ground as unconsciousness claimed him.

M
erry was exhausted, and every single muscle in her body ached. That was her first assessment of things when she woke up. Not that she was sure she’d slept. She’d closed her eyes briefly, too tired to move after the last time Alex had bedded her, but she’d been aware of him stirring and listened to the rustle of his moving about while she lay completely supine. It was possible she’d fallen asleep briefly to those sounds, but not very deeply, and the sudden silence in the tent was enough to stir her back to wakefulness.

Now she forced her eyes open and ignored their gritty, irritated state. For one moment Merry was
actually relieved to find her husband gone. While he’d been insatiable on the night they’d consummated the wedding, at least then she’d managed to snatch bits of sleep between each bout, recovering a little before he’d woken her with passionate kisses and caresses. This night he’d offered her no quarter. Alex had spilled himself into her repeatedly. Each time he had, she’d thought she might now rest, only to have his hands and mouth begin to wander and stoke her fire once more.

Her husband had been so relentless Merry had actually begun to wonder if one might die from such a persistent pursuit of pleasure. And at one point, her heart pounding furiously and feeling faint, she’d worried that he was about to do just that and drive her to the point that her heart might give out. Fortunately, she’d survived, but knew she would pay today with exhaustion and sore muscles. She ached in places she’d never really thought there were muscles.

Slowly becoming aware of a need to relieve herself, Merry forced herself to sit up. It seemed she would not get any rest at all this night, for she had no doubt that was the reason for her husband’s absence, too. There was little else he could be doing at this hour. However, if things continued as they had been going, she feared he would reach for her the moment he returned.

A low, self-mocking laugh slipped from her lips as she realized her thoughts suggested she hadn’t enjoyed the night’s endeavors. If she tried to claim that, it would be a bald-faced lie. She
had
enjoyed it. Immensely. But it had taught her that there truly
could be too much of a good thing, and she was in desperate need of sleep and recovery time.

Merry forced herself to her feet, grimacing as some of her aches and pains intensified. She simply stood there, looking around. A candle flickered where it sat on the chest, and she vaguely recalled the sound of Alex cursing and muttering as he worked to light it moments ago. She was grateful for it as she peered at the ruined remains of her gown and chemise where they lay next to her husband’s tunic.

The clothes she’d worn that day were as good as rags now, she thought with a grimace, and then glanced to the chest once more. Merry briefly considered going to the trouble of moving the candle and her medicinal bag to dig through the chest’s contents for a fresh, intact gown, but it seemed like much too much effort at that point, so she bent to snatch up Alex’s tunic instead and quickly tugged that on. It fell to her knees, not quite respectable, but covering all the important bits, so she decided it would do and made her way to the tent flap.

One glance outside brought an immediate scowl to her lips. The sky was already lightening with the approaching dawn. Whether her husband reached for her or not when he returned, she wasn’t likely to get any sleep at all this night. Merry glanced around the camp itself at the thought of her husband. It was still rather dark. All she could make out were the shapes of sleeping men. There was no sign of anyone walking around as her husband would be. It simply reinforced her suspicion that he’d had a need to relieve himself, too.

Very aware of the skimpy nature of her present
dress, she slipped quickly from the cover of the tent. Her nose wrinkled at the feel of dew-damp grass beneath her bare feet as she hurried around the side, but she rushed on, eager to reach the privacy offered at the back of the tent. She came to an abrupt halt, however, when she stepped behind the tent and found it empty. Alex wasn’t here.

Merry glanced back the way she’d come, wondering where he’d got himself to, but then shrugged the matter away. She really did have a desperate need to relieve herself. She would worry about him once she’d accomplished that, Merry soothed her conscience as she found a likely spot and set about the task. Of course, once she was tending the matter and it became less urgent, her thoughts returned to her husband.

Perhaps he’d gone to hunt up something to cook over the fire, for them to take to eat at the nooning hour, she thought, and then shook her head at the possibility. Nay. She was presently wearing his tunic, which meant he was dressed only in his braies. He would hardly go hunting in naught but his braies, she thought as she finished the task that had brought her out.

Then perhaps he’s gone down to the river to clean up
, her mind offered.
Or perhaps—

Merry’s thoughts froze; indeed she, too, froze in the act of straightening as she became aware of a constant steady rustling coming from the woods to her left. The sound had been there when she’d first come back here, but she’d been so distracted with her body’s needs she hadn’t paid it much attention. Now that she was done and feeling better it sud
denly came to the forefront of her mind, however, and she peered in that direction, trying to sort out what the sound could be.

It wasn’t the usual crackle of undergrowth that sounded the approach or fleeing of small wildlife, but a steady, heavy rustle as if something weighty was being dragged across the forest floor. Oddly enough, the moment Merry had that thought, she envisioned her unconscious husband being dragged through the underbrush. And dragged away from her since she was sure the sound had grown fainter since her arrival and was continuing to do so now with every passing heartbeat.

Merry tried to push that image away, but it was stubborn and stuck with her until she finally could not help but follow the sound to its source and reassure herself that it wasn’t what her mind had suggested. She moved slowly at first, approaching the woods behind and to the side of the tent with a bit of caution. But when Merry reached the point where the clearing ended and the underbrush began, she found the waist-high weeds and grass pressed almost flat as if something had indeed been dragged over it. Her heart immediately leapt into her throat and she began to move more swiftly.

Whatever it was she was following was moving much more slowly than she, and Merry soon gained ground, the sounds ahead of her growing louder. She then found herself trying to move more carefully, not wishing to make too much noise and announce her approach. If what she was following truly was her husband being dragged through the woods, she doubted it would be good to run right into his at
tackers without at least some sort of plan. In fact, the closer she got to her quarry, the more Merry began to think that she should have gone and roused the men for help. What was she going to do if her husband was being dragged off by someone?

“Ye’ll think of something,” she muttered to herself and knew she would. Merry had always been a bright girl. In fact, her mind was the one thing about herself she did have great faith in. Still, she set her mind to coming up with that something as she continued forward. She was so distracted with considering and discarding idea after idea that she did actually literally stumble upon the attackers, or at least upon her husband. She knew she was close, but it was only when she tripped on his feet and stumbled forward to crash down across his legs that Merry realized just how close.

“Husband?” she gasped with surprise.

A soft curse sounded over her head and then the man or men dragging him immediately released their hold on his hands and began to crash away through the woods. Merry pushed herself up off her husband to glance after them, but she was too slow and it was too dark in the woods. All she could make out were the dark shapes of trees and bushes surrounding them. Whoever had been dragging her husband away from camp had disappeared.

A groan from Alex drew her gaze back to her husband, and Merry shifted next to him again, finding his head by feel in the dark.

“Husband?” she whispered, running her fingers gently over his face and hair until a groan of pain
and the feel of something warm and sticky made her stop.

“Blood,” Merry muttered unhappily, wishing she had a candle or torch and could better see the wound.

“Merry?” Alex growled, his voice sounding alarmingly weak to her.

“Aye. Can ye stand?” she asked. Getting him back to the safety of camp was her main concern. Her arrival had obviously startled and scared off his attackers, but they could always come back, and might very well do so did they realize she was by herself. Besides, Merry could not take care of his head wound in the dark. She wanted to get him back to the safety of the tent as well as the candlelight it offered so that she could tend his injury.

“Stand?” Alex echoed, and concern rose up in her at the vague sound to his voice.

“Aye,” Merry said grimly, and hooked her arm under his to help him sit up. “Come. We ha’e to get back to the tent, husband.”

“Aye, the tent,” he muttered, and with her help managed to get to his feet, but Merry was taking most of his weight and it was hard work. She could tell he wouldn’t be able to stay on his feet long and just hoped it would be long enough.

There were several times Alex stumbled and Merry was positive they would fall and she wouldn’t be able to get him back up, but they did make it in the end.

The candle was still burning brightly when they staggered into the tent. Merry was a bit breathless
and her arm and leg muscles were trembling from the night’s activities as they staggered to the bed of furs.

“Here,” she said breathlessly, pausing beside the pallet. “Lie down and—”

Her words died on a murmur of concern as Alex just suddenly collapsed. It seemed obvious that determination alone had got him back here and he didn’t have a lick of energy left. Merry wasn’t surprised. She was done in herself and wouldn’t have minded collapsing as well, but couldn’t afford the luxury.

Fortunately, Alex had dropped across the furs so that he lay on them diagonally. That was good enough for her. While she’d prefer he be on them properly, she wasn’t going to force him to further exertion to get on the furs the right way and didn’t have the energy to try to move him around herself.

Leaving him where he was, Merry moved to the chest to collect her bag of medicinals as well as the candle and then returned to kneel beside him so that she could examine his head wound. While there was blood, she was relieved to note that the injury itself didn’t look too deep or damaging. It was the second injury he’d taken to his head in a matter of days, however, so her relief wasn’t complete.

Merry quickly tended the injury, cleaning it up and then placing a bit of clean cloth over it to act as a temporary bandage. She then sat back and simply peered at her husband. He appeared to be either sleeping or unconscious. Since he hadn’t made a sound while she’d cleaned the head wound, she suspected he was unconscious, but did give his arm a
little shake and whisper his name in the hopes of stirring him if he was only sleeping. She needed to know exactly what had happened and if he’d seen who had attacked him.

Unfortunately, her efforts were for naught, he was definitely unconscious.

She sat back on her haunches and merely stared at him, her mind now running through the different strands of information floating about inside her head. There were now three things to consider. Her husband had been attacked tonight and dragged away. Where his attacker was dragging him to and why was unknown, but she doubted it had been for a good purpose.

And then there was the previous incident. It might have been another attempt to knock him out and drag him off as had apparently happened tonight, but it could have killed him.

But then there was the matter of his dilated eyes and drunklike symptoms tonight. He’d been drugged, she was sure of that, and suspected it wasn’t the first time. Recalling all those nights that she’d thought him drunk since their marriage, she now suspected he had instead been drugged. Merry took a moment to feel guilty for thinking so poorly of the man, but then pushed that aside. She could feel her remorse and apologize to her husband for it later. Right now she needed to get to the bottom of things. She needed to figure out what he’d been given and why. There were several things she knew of that might have caused the dilated eyes, and several other things that might have had the same effect as alcohol and made him appear drunk, but
there were probably a lot more that she didn’t know of. It would help if she understood what the drug he’d been given had been meant to do. Obviously, it hadn’t been meant to kill him, for surely after more than three weeks he would be dead from it? Yet the only symptom he’d displayed was the drunkenness. Well, that and he
had
been terribly randy tonight, she acknowledged.

Merry suspected that was a side effect of whatever drug or tonic he’d been given as well. It just hadn’t been natural. Last night had felt completely different from their passionate moments at the waterfall and the night before in their tent. Then he’d been passionate and excited, but slow and gentle. Last night he’d been almost mad with need and had taken her repeatedly…as he had on the night before this trip, when they’d consummated their marriage. But even that night he hadn’t been as desperate and almost frightening as this night. He’d been like a man possessed tonight.

But it made no sense that someone would drug her husband to make him want to bed her. And how did that tie in to these attacks when he was knocked out?

A throat clearing behind her made Merry pause and glance toward the tent flap. The sun had obviously risen, for she could make out the shadow of someone standing outside the flap, and now that she wasn’t lost in her thoughts, she could hear movement and voices coming from outside. Everyone was up and probably wondering when they would set off, she realized.

Standing, she moved to the tent flap and pushed it out and up to find Gerhard standing outside.