The Highlander Takes a Bride (8 page)

Raising her head, she said, “I suspect everyone is capable o’ killing in the right circumstances, but from what Fenella has told me she truly loved yer son. She says he was most kind to her, and considerate.”

Lady MacDonnell released a short laugh and shook her head. “He was kind enough to leave her alone in her bed and considerate enough to order the servants to do what would make her happy so that he did no’ have to and was free to go on doing as he wished.”

“Ye knew he was no’ claiming his husbandly rights?” Saidh asked with surprise.

“Oh, aye,” Lady MacDonnell said with a crooked smile, and then told her solemnly, “Me son ne’er lied to me, and told me years ago that he preferred the company o’ men.”

“Do no’ all men prefer the company o’ other men?” Saidh asked dryly.

“Not usually in their bed,” Lady MacDonnell said in hushed tones.

Saidh stared at her wide-eyed. “Allen . . .”

Lady MacDonnell nodded sadly. “Allen was a good son; smart, strong, an excellent warrior and laird, and ever kind and affectionate with me. He always did what was expected o’ him, except in this one area, and I believe he would ha’e if he could ha’e, but he simply could no’. ”

“He told ye this?” she asked with disbelief.

“As I said, he was ever honest with me,” Lady MacDonnell said with a little sigh and then shook her head. “And I think he wanted me to understand. Ye see, he did no’ want to be that way. ’Tis a dangerous and difficult life. The church considers it unnatural and has men like him burnt at the stake, or mutilated and then hanged,” she pointed out.

“Aye,” Saidh murmured. The church was very much against sodomites. Frowning, she shook her head. “Then why did he no’ just . . .” She paused helplessly, unsure how to put it.

“Why did he no’ just decide to prefer the company o’ women?” Lady MacDonnell suggested quietly, and when Saidh nodded she announced out of the blue, “I detest fish.”

Saidh blinked in confusion at what seemed a change in subject, but then said, “I do no’ care fer it meself. I’d rather no’ eat at all than suffer fish fer a meal. I prefer beef and chicken and suchlike.”

“Aye. So do I,” Lady MacDonnell admitted, and then asked, “But why do ye no’ like fish? Did ye sit down one day and simply decide ye’d no’ like it?”

“Nay,” Saidh said on a laugh at the very suggestion. “I’ve naught against fish. ’Tis just no’ to me taste. ’Tis too . . . fishy,” she finished helplessly.

Lady MacDonnell nodded. “ ’Tis the same fer me. And that is how Allen made me understand. He did no’ sit down one day and decide he did no’ like women and preferred men. Women were just no’ to his taste. He said, he realized that he was different when a lad began to moan on about one o’ the maids in the castle where they were squiring together. The lad was drooling after her rather large breasts, saying they were the finest he’d ever seen, and asked Allen if he did no’ agree. Allen told me that he then looked at the woman, but did no’ think she was all that fine or worth the other boy’s lavish comments. In fact, he did no’ find her attractive at all, although the other squire was attractive to him.”

“Oh,” Saidh breathed.

“He told me that he did no’ wish to be that way, that his life would be much easier if he were like other men, so he’d tried to like women, but he just did no’ seem to have been made that way.” Lady MacDonnell’s expression was terribly sad, her voice soft as she admitted, “It tormented him terribly. He felt shame and confusion and was sure he was a failure as a son. But he assured me that he would do his duty and marry and present me with grandchildren as was expected.”

“Oh,” Saidh repeated weakly.

“And so, he set about finding a bride,” Lady MacDonnell continued quietly. “I told him he must be most careful in his choosing, that most brides would expect him to claim his marital rights on a regular basis and that he could wound their esteem with his lack of interest. So he set out in search of one who would not be wounded by his lack o’ interest.”

“Fenella,” Saidh said with realization.

“Aye,” Lady MacDonnell said solemnly. “Allen’s own betrothed had died while still a child, but there were a surprising number of women in the same position. He met with many o’ them to consider them as brides, but most were too eager and spoke o’ wanting babes right away, and many babes to boot. And then he met Fenella, who seemed to shrink from his touch and avoid his gaze, and so he tried to find out more about her.” Mouth tightening, she admitted, “There had been whispers when Hammish Kennedy lived, of his strange tastes and cruelties in the bedchamber, and there had been a great deal of talk and dismay at how much blood covered the bedsheets they hung in the hall the day after his wedding to Fenella.”

Saidh swallowed and nodded as she recalled those sheets herself. She’d been rather horrified too. It had looked like they were the sheets of someone who had been dealt a mortal blow and bled out in their bed, and Fenella had been so pale the next morning.

“Allen suspected Fenella feared the marital bed and would no’ trouble him o’er much for his presence in her bed,” Lady MacDonnell continued sadly, “And so he married her at once and brought her home.”

Saidh sat back in her chair, her mending forgotten in her hands. “Well, that explains his kindness in no’ claiming his husbandly rights.” She smiled crookedly and admitted, “Allen was right, Fenella was terrified o’ the marital bed after her first marriage. Actually, I suppose they were perfect fer each other.”

“Aye,” Lady MacDonnell agreed.

Saidh tilted her head and asked, “And yet ye still suspect her o’ killing him. Why?”

“Fer the most part, Fenella was fine. But sometimes she’d get this look in her eyes . . . a flatness, cold and empty,” Lady MacDonnell said slowly, almost as if she was trying to understand herself what made her suspect the woman had killed her son. “And then there is the feather.”

Saidh didn’t hide her confusion. “The feather?”

Lady MacDonnell set down her sewing, her gaze far away as she explained, “The senior MacIver was an old and dear friend o’ me husband’s when he lived, and so I attended his wedding to Fenella,” she explained. “I was still there in the morning when he was found dead in their bed. Fenella was . . .” She frowned and shook her head. “Well, she was crying, as usual. So meself and several of the other women still present offered to prepare the body fer burial.”

Saidh nodded and simply waited for her to continue.

“We were washing the body,” she said slowly. “I was working on his face and noted that his eyes were bloodshot.”

“Oh?” Saidh didn’t have a clue what that might suggest.

Lady MacDonnell seemed to realize that and explained, “Allen was no’ me only child. I had three sons ere him, and all o’ them died ere they reached a year in age, and all in their sleep. I thought it was me fault, that I was birthing weak babes, but then when Allen was a wee tot, just months old, I woke in the middle o’ the night, suddenly anxious o’er him and went to check on him. I caught the wet nurse trying to smother him with a pillow. She confessed she’d done the same to each of my other sons.”

“I’m so sorry,” Saidh said sincerely, horrified at the tragedies the woman had suffered in her life. She’d lost four sons, all told now.

“Thank ye,” Lady MacDonnell said solemnly. “But ye see, me three dead boys had bloodshot eyes too and once I kenned what the maid had done, I did wonder if it were no’ somehow a result o’ the smothering.”

“And Laird MacIver had bloodshot eyes,” Saidh said slowly.

Lady MacDonnell nodded. “O’ course, that was no proof. Laird MacIver was an old man and his eyes were often bloodshot and rheumy.”

“Oh.” Saidh nodded again.

“But there was also a goose feather in his mouth, caught at the back o’ his tongue,” Lady MacDonnell added grimly.

“Ye think Fenella smothered him with a goose?” Saidh asked uncertainly and Lady MacDonnell gave a surprised laugh.

“Nay, me dear, Laird MacIver was wealthy and had had his pillows and mattress stuffed with goose feather and herbs to encourage sweet dreams,” she explained.

“Oh.” Saidh grimaced and then admitted, “Our pillows were stuffed with wool and rags.”

“Ah.” Lady MacDonnell said with a smile.

“So ye think Fenella smothered him with his pillow and one o’ the feathers was somehow . . .”

“Sucked into his mouth as he gasped fer breath,” Lady MacDonnell said quietly. “I now think ’tis a possibility. Although, at the time I just assumed the feather may have been loosed in his efforts to bed Fenella, and that he’d sucked it in then.” She grimaced and shook her head. “The senior MacIver was an old man, after all, and ’tis doubtful she’d have had long to wait to be widowed anyway, so why would she take the risk and kill him? Besides, the senior MacIver was only her second husband and the first had been killed by bandits who had struck her down as well.”

Saidh bit her lip and held her tongue.

“Even when Laird MacIver’s nephew married her and then died so precipitously I did no’ think she may ha’e killed either man. After all, the younger MacIver was out riding alone and she was in the castle with his mother and aunt, so ’twas no’ as if she could ha’e done it.”

“Aye,” Saidh muttered, but she was recalling the pin in Joan’s horse that had made it go wild and throw her.

“But now me own son has died, a fourth husband in as many years, and that does seem like a ridiculous amount of bad luck fer any lass to suffer.” Lady MacDonnell shook her head and sighed. “Mayhap I am just looking fer someone to blame fer me loss. After all, fearing the marital bed made marriage to Allen the perfect situation fer her. She was the wife of the laird, Lady o’er all o’ MacDonnell with wealth and position and a fine title. His death leaves her little but dependence on Greer’s kindness.”

Saidh didn’t comment and after a moment, Lady MacDonnell muttered, “But I keep thinking, ‘Four dead husbands . . .’ and I remember that tale me father used to tell me about the scorpion and the frog when I was a child.”

“The scorpion and the frog?” Saidh asked curiously.

“Aye.” She smiled faintly. “Me father traveled to foreign lands when young and had many tales to tell. I used to love to sit at his feet or on his knees and listen to him tell them to me siblings and meself. One he liked to tell was about a scorpion who wished to cross a river. O’ course, the scorpion could no’ swim—a scorpion is apparently a large buglike creature that can kill with its sting,” she explained, apparently noting Saidh’s confusion.

“Oh,” Saidh said with a grimace. She didn’t care for bugs much.

“At any rate, the scorpion could no’ swim and asked a passing frog to take him o’er the river. The frog refused o’ course, saying the scorpion would sting him. But the scorpion argued that o’ course he would no’, else they’d both drown. So the frog allowed the scorpion to climb on his back and started to swim across the river.”

“And the minute they reached the other side the scorpion stung and killed him,” Saidh guessed with disgust.

“Nay,” Lady MacDonnell said patiently. “He stung him when they were only halfway across the river.”

“What?” Saidh squawked. “The daft creature, why would he do a thing like that?”

“That’s exactly what I asked,” she said with a smile. “And, according to me father, the frog asked that as well. Why would ye sting me? Now we will both die, he says as they are drowning.”

“What did the scorpion say?” Saidh asked curiously.

“ ’Tis me nature.”

Saidh stared at her blankly.

“And I wonder,” Lady MacDonnell said unhappily. “Four weddings and four dead husbands. Mayhap that wedding night that made her so affeared o’ the marriage bed did something else to Fenella, mayhap it twisted her thinking so that she can no’ help but kill her husbands, just as the scorpion could no’ help but sting the frog.”

Saidh let her breath out slowly and sank back in her seat.

“But as I said, perhaps I’m jest looking fer someone to blame fer losing me sweet son. After all, we ken she did no’ kill her first husband, and it does no’ seem likely she could have killed her third.” Lady MacDonnell shook her head and set aside her sewing. “I’m suddenly tired. I think I’ll go ha’e a lie-down ere the sup.” She smiled at Saidh and added, “And ye’re no’ to continue with the sewing without me. Why do ye no’ go take a ride on yer mare, or a walk in the bailey? The fresh air will probably do ye more good than my nattering has.”

“Mayhap I will,” Saidh murmured, setting aside the mending she’d been working on. Standing, she said, “Good sleep,” to Lady MacDonnell as the woman headed away, and then just stood there and watched her cross the hall and mount the stairs. Even after the woman disappeared from sight, Saidh continued to stand there looking toward the stairs.

Saidh knew she should really go check on Fenella, but didn’t want to. In fact, she didn’t think it was a good idea to get anywhere near her cousin until she’d had a chance to absorb and think through everything that she’d just learned. Sighing, she finally turned and strode out of the great hall, heading for the stables.

Chapter 6

“O
y!”

Greer gestured for his practice partner to stop, and then lowered his sword and turned to glance toward Alpin at that shout. He then followed the lad’s gesture toward the stables in time to see Saidh disappearing inside. He’d ordered the boy to keep an eye out for her when he’d come out earlier, and the boy had done as told.

A slow smile curving his lips, Greer glanced around in search of his first. Bowie must have heard Alpin’s call. The tall golden-haired man was already looking his way and now hurried over at his gesture.

“Aye, m’laird?” the man asked as he paused before him.

“Continue to oversee the men. I need to ha’e a word with Lady Buchanan.”

“Aye, m’laird,” Bowie bobbed his head and then turned toward the men to find they’d all stopped to see what was about. Scowling, Bowie began shouting orders at them to get on with it and Greer nodded with satisfaction and started away. The man had been his cousin’s first, and he’d inherited him along with the rest of MacDonnell. Allen had made a good choice, however, Bowie was smart, strong and good at his job. He’d proven himself invaluable in helping Greer learn what he needed to as he took on the role as the new laird.

The thought made him sigh, but Greer shook his head and pushed aside the depressing thoughts of his cousin and his new position. He had other matters to attend to just now, and the most important one at the moment was Lady Buchanan.

He found her alone in the stables when he stepped inside. The stable master was nowhere to be seen and Saidh was in her mare’s stall, murmuring soothingly to the beast as she saddled her. The sight brought a satisfied grunt from his lips. She knew how to tend to her beast and didn’t mind doing it. That was good. Greer knew many ladies who would have stood about, wringing their hands as they waited impatiently for the stable master or one of the stable lads to arrive and do it for her.

“So ye’re done yer sewing lesson with me lady aunt?” he commented idly, walking down to lean his arms on the stall she was in.

Saidh glanced around with surprise and then scowled at him. “She was no’ teaching me. I was helping her.”

“Helping her how? Ye told me ye could no’ sew,” he reminded her with amusement.

“Ye asked if I could sew and I said I’d sewn me brother up once after cutting him. I did no’ say I could no’ sew.”

“Ah.” Greer grinned, and opened the stall door to step inside. “Where are ye going?”

“I thought to go fer a ride,” she announced.

“Alone?” he asked with a frown.

Saidh shrugged. “I ha’e me sword.”

“Ye could ride me,” he offered and when she turned a startled glance his way, realized what had come out of his mouth and clucked his tongue. “I mean ye could ride
with
me. I’d go fer a ride with ye.” He wouldn’t mind her riding him either, or his riding her too, but that hadn’t been what he’d meant to say. His first offer had been a slip of the tongue.

Saidh finished with the saddle in silence, then stepped away from the horse and closer to him. Very close to him. So close he could see the faint freckles that dusted her cheeks and feel her breath on his chin as she peered up at him.

“I might like that,” she said in a husky whisper. “I enjoyed our last ride.”

Greer’s eyebrows nearly leapt up into his hair at that. He was damned sure she wasn’t talking about horses now. The lass had just admitted she’d enjoyed his touch and kisses and—well, of course he’d known that. She hadn’t exactly been quiet when she’d found her pleasure, but in his experience ladies simply didn’t boldly admit to such things. They blushed, and batted their eyelashes and gave nervous giggles and . . .

Saidh definitely was not like other women, he reminded himself. And he liked that about her. A lot.

Smiling, he slid his hand around her neck to cup her head, then lowered his mouth to cover hers in what he’d intended to be a gentle caress. But when Saidh immediately slid her arms around his waist, pressed closer and let her mouth open to welcome him, he forgot his intentions and went a little mad. The sudden rush of blood to his head and groin did not aid him much in the matter. The lass played havoc with his thinking just with her unfettered response to his touch.

When she sighed into his mouth and tightened her arms around him even as she plastered her breasts against him, he found himself forgetting where they were and tugging at the neckline of her gown, eager to see and feel the soft globes crushed between them. Saidh moaned her complaint when he finally broke the kiss so that he could urge her upper body back to better work at her gown and then impatiently helped him to get the task done quickly. She even tugged the top right off her shoulders, baring herself to him.

“Oh, aye,” Greer growled, covering them with his hands and kneading gently. “Aye.”

“Kiss me,” Saidh demanded, sinking one hand into his hair and tugging his head down.

Greer gave in to the demand, growling and raising his leg slightly when she instinctively sought her own pleasure by slipping one leg between both of his to ride his thigh as he kissed her. They both moaned as her leg rubbed against his erection and his thigh rubbed at the core of her.

He felt her tugging at his plaid and broke the kiss to glance down to see what she was trying to do, and Saidh gasped, “I want to feel ye too.”

Greer started to back up then to make enough room for her to remove his plaid, but paused as he bumped into her mare and it whickered gently. The sound made him blink in surprise. He’d quite forgotten where they were, and he didn’t recall doing it, but had turned her against the stall door so that his back was to her mare.

Another tug drew his gaze to see that she was working at the pin at his shoulder that held his plaid in place and he quickly covered her eager fingers. “No’ here.”

“What?” She frowned with incomprehension. “But I want—what are ye doing?”

Greer grinned at her scowl as he pulled her gown back over her shoulders and began to do up her lacings. “The stable master could come back at any moment.”

“What? Oh.” He could tell by her expression that she too had forgotten where they were and the knowledge pleased him greatly. At least he was not alone in the effect they had on each other.

“Then come fer a ride with me,” she whispered, taking over her lacings.

Greer was tempted, but shook his head. If he went with her now, it wouldn’t be his horse he’d be riding at the first clearing they reached. “I’ve work to do.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What work? Ye were offering to ride with me just a minute ago.”

“Aye, but that’s no’ such a good idea,” he said gently.

Saidh growled under her throat as she finished with her lacings, and then propped her hands on her hips. “I could jest punch ye, m’laird. I really could.”

“It’s no’ punching yer wantin’,” he said gently, understanding her frustration. He was feeling a fair bit o’ that himself. Fortunately, he could take his out on his men in the practice field. She had nowhere to relieve her frustration, he realized and after a brief hesitation, urged her back up against the stall door again.

“What are ye—?” she began with surprise and then gasped when he suddenly wrenched her skirt up, snaked his hand down the front of her braies and sunk his fingers into the wet heat that already waited there.

“Oh,” Saidh moaned with understanding and reached for him, trying to pull his head down for a kiss.

Greer tugged his head back and shook it in refusal, knowing that if he kissed her, he’d be lost. Mouth set grimly, he began to caress her, finding the small nub that was the center of her pleasure and running his finger lightly over and then around it.

“Oh,” Saidh gasped. Closing her eyes, she clutched at his arms and shook her head from side to side as if in denial of the excitement he was stirring inside her.

“Greer, please,” she groaned, pressing herself against him. Her nails were digging into his arms through the shirt he wore under his plaid, and her hips were shifting into his caresses almost urgently. “Please, kiss me.”

Instead, he tucked her face against his chest with his free hand and then held her close as he slid one finger inside of her.

Saidh cried out then, the sound muffled by his plaid and chest, and Greer found himself gritting his teeth and thought that this was the stupidest damned thing he’d ever done. Her flesh had closed around the digit, hot and wet and oh so tight, and he knew that was how it would feel around his cock, sucking him in, trying to keep him there as he thrust again and again, his hips bucking, his cock throbbing.

A sudden sharp pain at his chest was followed by Saidh’s crying out against him and then grabbing at his hand to stop it moving, and Greer realized that he’d brought her to release and she was now sensitive to his continued caress. It also made him realize that he had been humping her hip as he worked to give her that release and was now as hard as a dead hen and aching something terrible.

Heaving a sigh, Greer eased his hand out of her braies and let her skirt drop around her legs again. He then stood still and waited. Saidh was holding him tightly, and Greer knew she was struggling to slow her breathing and regain her composure, mostly because he was doing the same. He was also hoping that if given a minute, his cock would stop throbbing and shrink again, at least enough that he could walk back out to the men as if he hadn’t been doing what he’d been doing in here.

“Still want to punch me?” he asked after a moment, to distract them both.

Saidh gave a laugh and shook her head against his chest.

“Good,” he murmured, running one hand lazily down her back and wondering what the meaning was behind what he’d just done. Greer was not the sort to find his pleasure and leave a woman with none. He always ensured his lovers enjoyed whatever time they spent with him. But this was the first time he’d sought to give a woman pleasure without seeking his own too. Especially when he wanted her so badly that his whole body ached rather than just his balls. She was a lady, of course, which made that impossible . . . so why had he done what he had instead of leaving her to deal with her frustration in her own way?

“I should go fer me ride and let ye get to yer work,” Saidh said suddenly, distracting him from his thoughts. She stepped back out of his arms in a manner that seemed almost reluctant, which Greer liked. But he didn’t like the thought of her out riding alone. However, his aching—and still rock-hard—cock told him that accompanying her would be folly.

“Ye can take me squire with ye,” he decided suddenly.

Saidh paused next to her mare and glanced to him with surprise. “That’s no’ necessary.”

“Mayhap, but ’twould make me feel better to ken yer no’ alone do ye run into difficulties,” he said with a shrug and slipped out of the stall to head for the stable doors. He was halfway to them when the stable master stepped inside and then stopped with surprise.

“Oh, m’laird,” the man said, then glanced down to the items in his hands and explained, “I was just getting a poultice for the horse that cut her leg yesterday. Did ye wish me to saddle yer—”

The stable master paused abruptly, eyes widening as his gaze lowered back toward the items he carried, but paused on Greer’s plaid. He didn’t have to look down to know why. He was aware that he was still noticeably excited, his erection poking out the front of his plaid in a most obvious manner. He supposed he should be embarrassed, but wasn’t. Life, he had learned, was full of such moments for everyone. There was no sense agonizing over them, so he smiled with amusement and said, “I doubt ye’ve a saddle to fit that.”

The stable master blinked and glanced up with confusion, then seemed to get the joke and grinned. “Nay, m’laird. But I could make one special if ye’d like.”

“Reins and a whip might come in more handy,” Greer said dryly.

“Aye, for most men I think,” the stable master said with amusement. “I might no’ be plagued with so many children if I’d had reins and a whip fer me own tarse when I was younger.”

Greer chuckled and continued past the man.

“So, ye’ll no’ be needing yer horse saddled?” the stable master asked, making Greer pause at the door and glance back.

“No’ mine, but I’d appreciate it if ye could saddle Alpin’s pony. He’ll be accompanying Lady Buchanan on a ride.”

“Ah.” The stable master glanced to where Saidh was caressing her mare’s nose in the animal’s stall. He then glanced back to Greer’s slowly lowering plaid and nodded wisely before meeting his gaze and saying, “ ’Tis fer the best it’s the boy who joins her, at least until ye’ve found those reins and a whip.”

“That was me thinking too,” Greer agreed dryly and then the two men laughed and he turned to stick his head out the door to bellow, “Alpin!”

“A lady does no’ climb trees.”

“Ye’ve told me that three times now, lad,” Saidh responded dryly, shifting her foot up to the next branch and hauling herself upward.

“Aye, but ye’re still doing it, so I thought mayhap ye had no’ heard me,” Alpin said sharply. When she didn’t respond to that, he added, “I could climb up there to pick the apples and throw them down, ye ken.”

“Then there would be no one to catch them,” Saidh pointed out.

“I was thinking mayhap ye could stay below and catch them, as a lady should,” he said, sounding much put upon.

Saidh plucked the apple she’d been climbing to and glanced down to see where the boy was before dropping it in his direction. Once Alpin had caught it, and set it with the others they’d already gathered, she started to climb down and asked, “Just how old are ye, Alpin?”

“Nine,” he said proudly.

“Hmmm,” she muttered, easing down another branch. “Ye act ninety.”

“Laird MacDonnell says the same thing,” Alpin announced with disgust.

“Then we are in agreement,” Saidh said cheerfully, easing down another branch.

“I suspect the two o’ ye would agree on a lot o’ things,” Alpin said sounding annoyed.

“I suspect yer right,” Saidh said with a laugh and jumped to the ground. She took a moment to brush her hands together, then released her skirt from where she’d caught it up and stuck it through her belt for the climb, then beamed at the boy and said, “Is that no’ nice?”