The Highlander Takes a Bride (9 page)

“Nay,” Alpin assured her heavily. “I’m thinking ’tis a bad thing.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why is that?”

“Because ye both just go about doing as ye wish with little regard fer how a laird or lady should behave,” he said firmly. “Someone needs to take the two o’ ye in hand and teach ye— What the devil are ye doing now?” he interrupted himself to ask with dismay when Saidh moved over to the apples, caught her skirt up and knelt to begin placing the apples in the bag-type affair she’d made of her skirt.

“Gathering the apples we’ve collected,” Saidh answered patiently.

“I can see that, but ye canna ride back like that,” he said with dismay.

“Sure I can,” she said easily. “I’ve two hands after all, one to hold me skirt up, the other to hold the reins.”

“But ye can no’ ride around with yer skirt up like that,” he cried.

“I’m wearing braies under me skirt, Alpin,” she pointed out dryly.

“I ken that,” he said with disgust, “but ye do no’ want the whole bailey kenning it. And ye surely can no’ be planning to walk through the castle like that too. What if Lady MacDonnell or one o’ the servants sees ye?”

She couldn’t tell which idea horrified him more, the servants seeing it or Lady MacDonnell. Saidh shook her head. Truly, the boy acted like an old woman. He’d done nothing but nag at her since they’d started out on this ride. She shouldn’t ride astride, he’d instructed. What the devil was she doing wearing braies under her gown? That wasn’t proper. She shouldn’t ride so fast. She shouldn’t be jumping boulders or bushes on her mare. She shouldn’t climb trees. Truly, Saidh felt sure if she had to listen to his nagging much longer, she might be tempted to kill the lad, and had no idea how Greer had managed not to before now.

Finished collecting the apples, Saidh stood and moved to mount her mare. The action was a bit awkward with only one hand available, but she managed it and then glanced around to see if Alpin was ready. He wasn’t. The boy still stood by where the apples had been, hands on hips and glaring fiercely.

“Alpin,” she said patiently, “If ye plan to accompany me back to the keep, I suggest ye mount up . . . else I’ll leave ye behind.”

“A lady should ne’er ride alone. There could be bandits or—hey!” he bellowed, and ran for his horse when Saidh set her mare to start moving.

Laughing, Saidh urged her horse to more speed, uncaring if the boy caught up or not. Really, he was a little pain in the arse and she didn’t know how Greer bore it.

That thought brought Greer firmly to mind and Saidh sighed and relaxed in the saddle, unintentionally allowing the mare to drop back to a trot. That man, she thought almost dreamily and shivered as she recalled the pleasure he’d given her in the stables. Her body was still tingling from what he’d done, which she didn’t understand at all, because the tingling hadn’t lasted as long after that time in the clearing.

Of course, perhaps the dunking in the loch had put an end to it then, she thought now. There had been no cold water to cool her fevered body this time, and not only was it still tingling, she could feel the dampness still between her legs. She even felt more pool there every time she thought of Greer and what he’d done. He’d driven her out of her mind with his talented fingers and God it had felt good.

Although, she thought with a sudden frown, it would have felt better had he kissed her while he was doing it. Saidh had missed his kisses. Without those, it had felt less like something they were doing, more like something he was doing to her, and for some reason that bothered her. Had he enjoyed it at all? she wondered, and then glanced around with a scowl when Alpin rode up beside her and began to lecture, “A lady does not—”

Saidh didn’t stick around to hear what she was doing wrong this time, but urged her mare to move faster and rode ahead again. She shouldn’t have slowed down anyway, Saidh thought. She had no time to sit about fretting over Greer at the moment. She had to get the apples to Cook.

Saidh had considered what she’d learned from Lady MacDonnell and had come to the conclusion that she needed to talk to her cousin and ask some hard questions. The apples were supposed to help with that. Saidh was hoping if she got the apples to Cook quickly enough, he could make Fenella’s favorite dessert, applemoyse, in time for the sup. Because Saidh was hoping that the dessert would disarm her cousin and make her speak more freely when she asked the questions she wanted to.

“Is the meal no’ to yer liking?”

At Greer’s question, Saidh glanced up from the piece of cheese she had been tearing to shreds and smiled faintly.

“Nay. ’Tis fine. I am just . . .” Shrugging, she set down the remainder of the cheese without saying that she was simply trying to sort out how she was supposed to ask her cousin if she had killed any of her last three husbands, without sounding like that was what she was asking. Saidh was sure if she went charging into the room sounding accusatory Fenella would shut down and refuse to speak to her at all. And she was already at a disadvantage, to her mind, since it had been too late for Cook to make the applemoyse in time for sup when she’d got the apples to him.

“Saidh?” Greer prompted.

“Hmm?” she glanced to him, noted his questioning expression and realized he was waiting for her to finish her answer. Sighing, she shook her head and muttered, “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” he asked.

“About the scorpion and the applemoyse,” she said unhappily.

“The scorpion and the applemoyse?” Greer echoed with bewilderment.

“Aye, I fear I was too late getting the apples to Cook and he did no’ ha’e time to make the applemoyse before the sup.”

“I see,” he said slowly. “And what has that to do with a scorpion?”

“Oh.” Saidh frowned. “Well ye see, when Lady MacDonnell’s father was on crusade there was this scorpion that wanted to cross this river.”

“And did my aunt’s father ken this scorpion?” Greer queried.

“No, he did no’, dear,” Lady MacDonnell said, leaning forward from where she sat on the other side of Greer. She smiled at Saidh around her nephew’s body, and then shifted her gaze to him to explain, “Saidh is telling ye a story that me father brought back with him from the Crusades. It was told to him there. I do no’ believe he e’en saw a scorpion himself.”

“Oh,” Greer said with a smile. “I see.”

Lady MacDonnell smiled then and stood. “I find I am still weary tonight. Perhaps my humors are out of balance. I think I shall retire and hope that rest helps fight off whatever ails me.”

“I’ll wish ye good sleep then,” Greer said, standing when she did.

“Thank ye, Greer,” she reached up to kiss his cheek and pat his arm.

“Good sleep, m’lady,” Saidh murmured.

“And to you, dear,” Lady MacDonnell said with a gentle smile, reaching out to touch her shoulder affectionately as she passed.

Greer waited until Lady MacDonnell had reached the stairs before retaking his seat. Flashing a smile at Saidh then, he said, “She appears to be becoming quite fond o’ ye, and quite quickly.”

Saidh noted his pleased expression, but merely shrugged. “I like her too.”

“Good, good,” he said happily.

“Why is that good?” she asked.

“Ne’er mind. Tell me about me aunt’s father’s scorpion,” he suggested.

“Right.” Saidh shifted sideways on the bench to face him and began, “Well, as I said, the scorpion wanted to cross the river, but could no’ swim, and—”

She paused and glanced to the side when Bowie appeared behind Greer. He offered Saidh an apologetic smile, but then the first leaned over to murmur something she couldn’t hear in the MacDonnell laird’s ear.

“Excuse me fer jest a moment,” Greer said apologetically to Saidh, then stood and followed his first out of the keep.

Saidh scowled after him, glanced down at her uneaten food, but then just pushed it away and stood up. She headed toward the stairs, thinking that she should go have her talk with Fenella, applemoyse or no applemoyse. But halfway to the stairs it occurred to her that Fenella was the one who had asked her to stay and could easily ask her to leave as well if she handled this incorrectly. That thought brought her to an abrupt halt. She didn’t want to leave MacDonnell. She liked it here, she liked Lady MacDonnell, and she definitely liked Greer, and if she left she would not get to enjoy any more of his lovely kisses and caresses and—

Turning abruptly, she started back toward the table, deciding that she would talk to Fenella tomorrow . . . when she had the applemoyse . . . and had sorted out how to get the information she wanted without offending Fenella and getting sent away.

Saidh had only taken a couple of steps when she paused again. She didn’t really want to sit on the hard bench, staring down at her uneaten food as she waited for Greer. She would sit by the fire instead, she decided, and turned in that direction only to stop again when someone tapped on her shoulder. Spinning back, she peered up at Greer. He was grinning. She scowled.

“Ye looked like a lost lamb the way ye were standing here first turning this way and then that,” he teased.

“I was going to go above stairs and check on Fenella, and then thought to leave it until tomorrow and—” Saidh waved away the rest of her words, unwilling to explain the thoughts that had followed.

Greer merely nodded and suggested, “Come sit by the fire with me.”

Nodding, she allowed him to walk her to the chairs by the fire.

“So,” he said as they settled in the seats. “This scorpion?”

“Oh, aye.” She paused briefly to gather herself, and then said, “The scorpion wanted to cross the river, but—”

“Why?” Greer interrupted.

Saidh paused and blinked. “What?”

“Why did the scorpion want to cross the river?” he asked.

“Well, I do no’ ken,” she said with irritation. “Yer aunt did no’ explain that part.”

“And ye did no’ ask?” He seemed surprised.

“I am quite sure why he wanted across the river was no’ important to the story,” Saidh told him grimly.

“O’ course, it is,” he said scornfully. “A person’s intent is always important.”

“The scorpion is no’ a person, he is a little buglike creature who can kill ye with his sting,” she said with irritation.

“Still, if he wants to cross the river, there must be a reason,” Greer said calmly. “Was there a lovely lady scorpion on the other side? Was he following his wife who already crossed? Did he—?”

“Fine,” Saidh snapped. “He wanted to cross the river to escape the battling Crusaders.”

“Ah.” He nodded and smiled, eyes twinkling. “Very well, continue.”

Heaving a sigh, she shook her head, regathered the thread of the story and said, “So the scorpion wanted to cross the river but could no’ swim, so he asked—”

She paused abruptly and turned a warning look on Alpin when he suddenly appeared next to Greer’s chair.

“Sorry,” the lad muttered, and then turned to Greer and cleared his throat before saying, “If ye’ll no’ be needing me again this night, m’laird, might I retire?”

Greer appeared surprised at the request and narrowed his gaze on the boy, then reached out to press the back of his hand to Alpin’s forehead. “Yer warm and flushed. Are ye no’ feeling well?”

Alpin grimaced, but shrugged. “I’m sure I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”

“Go on then,” Greer said firmly. “Ye can sleep on the foot o’ me bed and take as many furs as ye need to stay warm.”

“Thank ye, m’laird,” Alpin whispered and turned to hurry toward the stairs.

“That was kind,” Saidh commented quietly as Greer watched the boy go. “Most lairds would no’ share their beds with their squire.”

He smiled wryly and shrugged. “The lad is a good one. I’d ha’e let him sleep at the top o’ the bed, but he kicks in his sleep.”

Saidh bit her lip briefly, but then could not help it. “The boy nags like a fishwife.”

“Aye, he does,” Greer agreed with a grin. “But he’s brave and hardworking and he grows on ye.”

“Hmmph,” Saidh said dubiously.

Greer chuckled at her obvious disbelief and began, “So, this scorp—” This time he was the one who was interrupted when the stable master appeared beside them.

Saidh dropped back in her chair with exasperation, but then stood and headed for the stairs. She no longer wanted to tell the tale of the scorpion and the frog anymore. Besides, she suspected she wouldn’t ever get to finish the tale, but would be constantly interrupted again and again and, frankly, she was out of patience.

Chapter 7

“W
here are ye going?”

Saidh was halfway up the stairs when that question and Greer’s sudden appearance beside her gave her a start. Gripping the rail, she scowled at him for the scare, and said, “I’m going to me bed, m’laird.”

“But what about the scorpion story ye were going to tell me?” he asked, following when she continued up the steps.

“I shall tell ye tomorrow. ’Tis obvious I’ll no’ be allowed to finish it tonight with all these interruptions anyway,” Saidh muttered as she moved toward the door to her chamber.

“There’ll be no more interruptions,” he assured her.

“Ye do no’ ken that,” she argued, pausing at her door and turning to scowl at him.

“Aye, yer right,” Greer admitted, then suddenly reached past her and opened her door.

“What the devil are ye doing?” she asked with surprise when he urged her quickly inside and then turned to close the door.

“No one would think to look for me here,” he pointed out, then glanced around the room before catching her hand and leading her to the chairs by the fireplace. The fire was lit, though Saidh had no idea who had lit it. She had no maid to do it anymore. Yet, every night her fire was lit. It made her wonder if her maid had ever actually lit the fire at home or she’d just been wrong in assuming it was the woman who did it.

“Here, we shall sit here and ye can finish yer story,” Greer said cheerfully, dropping into one of the chairs, and then tugging her to sit sideways in his lap.

“There is another chair where I could sit,” she pointed out with a small smile.

“Aye, but this is nicer, is it no’?” he asked, running one hand lightly down her back, and the other catching her hand and beginning to toy with it.

It was, actually. Saidh liked it when Greer touched and held her, so she relaxed against his chest, and brushed a kiss over his cheek, and then whispered, “Aye,” against his ear.

Greer’s hand tightened on hers and then he growled, “Tell yer story, lass. If ye can.”

Saidh sat back with surprise. “Why could I no’ tell it?”

“Because I’m going to do me best to distract ye,” he assured her with a slow, wicked smile.

Her eyes narrowed. “And jest how do ye plan to do that?”

“How do ye think?” he asked huskily, and ran his fingers lightly up the sensitive inner curve of her arm. “Why do we no’ see if ye can tell the tale and finish it ere I make ye scream yer pleasure?”

Saidh shivered, her body already tingling and a heavy wetness beginning to pool low in her belly just at the suggestion. Voice a little breathless, she asked, “What do I get if I win?”

“Ye’d do better to ask what I get when I win. Because I will,” he assured her, running his fingers along the top of her neckline now. Leaning forward, he whispered against her ear, “I like to win.” His lips brushed the edge of her ear as he spoke, and were followed by a light nipping that made Saidh gasp and squirm on top of him.

Greer groaned at the action, his hands moving to her hips to still her. She didn’t understand why until she became aware of the hardness suddenly poking the bottom of one thigh.

“Greer?” she whispered, staring down at his hands on her hips.

“Aye, lass?” he growled.

“I’m going to enjoy this game,” Saidh breathed, raising her head to smile at him as she added, “And I like to win too.”

He stared at her blankly for a minute, then threw his head back on a loud laugh, but Saidh covered his mouth to muffle it and shook her head as she muttered, “Ye’ll ha’e ’em all up knocking on the door do ye carry on like that.”

Greer sobered and pulled her hand away, murmuring, “Aye, and we would no’ want that.”

“No’ if ye want to continue the game,” she warned, and then rushed on, “So the scorpion wanted to cross the river, but could no’ swim so he asked a passing frog to swim him across. But the—”

“Frogs jump, they do no’ swim,” Greer interrupted, beginning to lazily undo her lacings.

“Aye, they do so swim,” Saidh argued, trying to ignore what he was doing.

“Prove it,” he demanded, leaning forward to nibble his way up her neck as he continued to work on her lacings.

Saidh frowned and tried to think of a way to prove that frogs could swim, and then gasped as his lips found her ear and began to toy with it. “They . . . er . . .” she breathed, tilting her head toward him as he nibbled and licked at her ear. “That is . . .”

Her gown fell apart under his busy fingers and Saidh bit her lip as he pushed the cloth to the sides to get at her breasts.

“Lady MacDonnell said so,” she gasped as his hands closed over her flesh.

“That is no’ proof,” he argued on a laugh, kneading gently.

“ ’Tis her story, so if she says they swim, they swim,” Saidh panted, twisting her upper body toward him and clutching at his shoulders as he tweaked her nipples and cupped her breasts by turn.

Greer looked thoughtful as he toyed with the round globes, but then nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Aye,” Saidh moaned, arching into his touch and then realizing what she was doing, gave her head a shake and picked up the thread of the story. “So he asked the frog, but the frog said, nay, he’d sting him.”

“Who would?” Greer asked.

Saidh glanced down with confusion at the question just as he leaned forward to catch one nipple between his teeth and then suck it into his mouth. The sight alone was frightfully exciting, but the feeling . . . She moaned and shifted in his lap as he drew gently on the already hard bud, then gasped and arched her back as he suckled harder, drawing the entire dusty rosy aureole into his mouth and lashing it with his tongue.

“The . . . er . . .” Saidh shook her head to try to clear it and asked uncertainly, “What did ye ask me?”

Greer let her nipple slip from his mouth and ran his thumb lazily back and forth across the wet nub as he raised his head to give her a wicked grin. “Having trouble telling the tale?”

Annoyed at his gloating expression, she narrowed her eyes, her anger pushing back some of the passion he was so busily stirring in her. “Nay. Having trouble understanding the fool question. Who would what?” she finished, able now to recall his question.

“Who would sting him?” Greer said on a chuckle.

“The frog refused to give the scorpion a ride across the river because he feared the scorpion would sting him,” Saidh said succinctly.

“Ah, I see.” He nodded solemnly. “Thank ye fer explaining that. I was no’ sure.”

“Aye, ye were sure,” she said dryly. “Yer just trying to slow me down to give ye more time to try to win this race.”

“I’m wounded that ye think so little o’ me, m’lady,” Greer murmured, tugging her gown off her shoulders to pool around her waist, leaving her bare to his view. “Gawd, Saidh, yer a beautiful woman.”

Saidh flushed with pleasure at the compliment, but gave a sniff and muttered, “Ye’ve seen it all before.”

She thought he whispered, “No’ like this,” before he leaned forward to lave one breast.

Saidh determinedly steeled herself against the action and continued, “The scorpion argued that he’d no’ sting him because he’d drown then too. So the frog—” Saidh paused abruptly as his hand suddenly slid up her thigh to cup her between her legs through the skirt of her gown. “You—I—”

Greer used his free hand to pull her head to him so that he could kiss her, and she moaned as he thrust his tongue into her mouth, emulating what he’d done between her legs in the stables with his fingers.

Saidh kissed him back briefly, but then turned her head away to moan, “That’s no’ fair. Ye stop me from talking doin’ that.”

“Yer right,” he growled. “I’ll no kiss ye again. Just turn in me lap, love, so we’re facing each other.”

Saidh shifted under his touch, her hands clenching on his shoulders now and gasped, “Why?”

“I want ye to ride me to yer pleasure. I like it when ye ride me like ye did in the clearing. Come, shift fer me,” he pled, removing his hand from between her legs and nudging her hip.

Saidh hesitated, but then slid off his lap, catching her gown to keep it from falling to the ground as she did. Only rather than climb to straddle him in the chair, she grinned and then rushed out, “So the frog took the scorpion on his back and started to swim across the river.”

“Bloody hell, now who’s cheating,” Greer muttered and caught her by the waist to lift her onto his lap himself.

Saidh straddled him, but her gown was caught beneath her and uncomfortably tight across her upper legs, so she raised herself slightly to pull the material from between them before settling to sit on him saying, “But halfway across the river the scorpion stung the frog.”

“O’ course he did,” Greer muttered, tugging at the material of her gown to get enough of it out of the way that he could get his hand under to continue caressing her.

Desperate to get the story done before he could succeed, she rushed on.

“As the frog began to drown, taking the scorpion with him, he asked the scorpion. Why—eee,” she ended on a small cry as his hand finally got beneath her gown and found her core. Shaking her head, she continued determinedly, “Why would ye sting me when it would mean yer own death too, and the scorpion said—”

“Lass?” Greer interrupted in a weak growl and she glanced to him, startled to see that his face had gone pale. He also wasn’t caressing her, she realized. His hand was just pressed against her, unmoving.

“What?” she asked uncertainly.

“Where are yer braies?”

Her eyebrows rose at his sharp tone. “Well, I take them off when I change fer sup. ’Tis no’ as if I’m like to go riding at night,” she pointed out reasonably.

“Oh, dear God,” Greer groaned and lowered his head to rest his forehead on her breast, but not in a good I-want-to-suckle-at-yer-teat way. It was more a, God-has-forsaken-me-and-I-am-in-hell kind of despair he appeared to be acting out.

Saidh pursed her lips and eyed the man, but when he continued to remain as he was, appearing frozen, she shifted impatiently in his lap, and said, “ ’Tis—”

“Do no’ move.” Greer almost roared the words. He lifted his head abruptly and snatched his hand out from under her skirts as if he’d touched hot coals. Spotting her startled expression, he opened his mouth, closed it, and then said more gently, “Pray, m’lady. Do no’ move.”

The man was obviously beyond distressed, though she had no idea why. He seemed to be upset that she wasn’t wearing her braies, but she wasn’t at all certain why. He’d slid his hand inside her braies and touched her just that afternoon, so it could not be that he was upset that she wasn’t wearing them because he’d touched her so intimately.

Aware of a hardness poking uncomfortably into her bottom, Saidh hesitated, but really this was ridiculous and just how long did he expect them to sit like that? “ ’Tis all right, I’m just going to . . .” She started to shift in an effort to find a more comfortable position and Greer groaned and then caught her hips in his hand and held her still.

“I swear, Saidh, if ye do that again I’ll no’ be able to stop meself,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“All right,” Saidh said soothingly, “ ’Tis all right.”

“ ’Tis no’ all right,” he assured her grimly, lowering his head again. “I was counting on those braies and yer no’ wearing them.”

“I see,” Saidh said weakly, but really didn’t see at all. Did he prefer touching her through the braies? Or having to snake his hand down them? She had no idea, but she was growing weary of just sitting there, and really the game was no fun if he wasn’t going to play it. All that lovely desire he’d stirred in her was now fading away. Sighing, she asked, “Shall I put me braies on now? Would that make ye feel better?”

“Nay,” Greer growled. “What would make me feel better would be if ye’d sit still and let me think.”

“What are ye thinking about?” she asked curiously.

“Fish,” he said succinctly.

Saidh raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

“Because I detest fish.”

“Really?” Saidh smiled. “So do I. Lady MacDonnell does too.”

Greer merely cursed under his breath.

Saidh fell silent for another minute, but then cleared her throat and asked, “Why are ye thinking o’ fish?”

“Saidh!” he snapped, then sighed and began to rub his temples and explained more gently, “Sweetling, I was counting on yer braies being on so that I could pleasure ye without taking yer innocence. But yer no’ wearing yer braies, and I am struggling to keep from taking me pleasure, yer innocence be damned, so I am trying to control me passion by thinking o’ dead smelly fish because they are the least passionate thing I can think o’ and the one thing most likely to help me control meself.”

“Oh,” Saidh said quietly, but then asked, “Would it be so terrible if ye took yer pleasure? Ye’ve given me pleasure twice now and while I think ye enjoyed yerself the first time, I’m no’ sure ye did in the stables. Surely ye deserve pleasure too.”

“Dear God, ye swear like a warrior, fight like one too, but ha’e no survival instinct to speak o’, lass,” Greer said with despair, then caught her at the waist and lifted her off his lap and into the air even as he stood up. When Saidh’s gown promptly slid over her hips and fell to pool on the floorboards beneath her, Greer looked as if he might weep. He also froze again and simply held her there in the air before him as his eyes roved hungrily over her bare body.

“Greer?” Saidh said softly.

He tore his gaze from his inspection of her body and raised his gaze to her face. “Aye?”

“ ’Tis in me nature,” she said solemnly and when he stared blankly, explained, “That is what the scorpion said to the dying frog, ’Tis in me nature.” She smiled crookedly. “I win.”

Greer released a breathless laugh and shook his head. “Nay, lass. I’m pretty sure I win.”

“Nay. That is the end o’ the story. I win,” she insisted as he carried her across the room.

“It may be the end o’ me aunt’s story, but ’tis just the beginning o’ ours,” he assured her as he set her to sit on the end of the bed.

“But—”

“How long is the journey to Buchanan from here?” Greer interrupted, straightening.

Saidh frowned. “I do no’ ken. Half a day, mayhap less.”