The Trouble with Highlanders (18 page)

Ye
enjoyed
the
last
time
the
man
was
on
his
knees
full
well…

Indeed she had.

“She does nae need the long stays,” Asgree told one of the maids. “And it is nae yet cold enough to wear them for the warmth.”

The girls looked at Daphne's breasts, trying to learn the skill their mentor had. To be chosen to serve the mistress of the house was one of the best duties, for it came with the nicest surroundings. The girls lifted a dress and carried it like a babe, making sure not even the hem touched the floor. It was a rich shade of blue, and once it was close enough to touch, Daphne realized it was made of velvet.

“I can nae wear that. It is fit for a queen.”

“Or the Countess of Sutherland,” Asgree informed her in a tone full of authority.

“Which I am nae, either,” Daphne whispered. For just a moment, doubt punctured her enjoyment. What if Norris would not welcome her at the high table? No invitation had been issued. She'd look the fool sitting at one of the common tables in his mother's finery.

“'Twas the laird who placed ye in the lady's solar when he might as easily have taken ye to the chamber I put ye in the night ye arrived. He gives ye personal attendants when he has never done so before.” Asgree propped her hand onto her hip and aimed a hard look at Daphne. “Norris has ever been a bold one. Timid lasses never catch his eye.”

So subtle, yet sharp as could be. Asgree knew her art well, for she spoke her mind without ever overstepping her position. Daphne lifted her arms for the gown. It settled into place, and the maids began to lace up the back. The chamber was silent, allowing her to hear the laces pulling through the eyelets. Once again, the head of house proved her ability, for the dress fit her well. Norris's mother had been slightly shorter than she, but the dress still touched the floor.

The bells began to ring, announcing to all that the cook was ready to serve supper. The maids hurried to comb her hair and pin a caul over the back of it. Asgree brushed Daphne's cheeks with colored powder and used a tiny brush to paint her lips.

“Ye need naught else,” she announced at last, “except the boldness to show the young master ye can stand steady no matter the situation.”

“Thank ye,” Daphne murmured.

Surprise flickered in the old woman's eyes, and her lips curved into a satisfied smile.

“Get on with ye now. Ye have no need of this old woman any longer tonight. The dark hours belong to lovers, be they wed or no'.”

The maids gasped softly, but Daphne felt Asgree's words blow air across the embers that had been smoldering inside her all day. Passion burned again within her, and she turned to go find the man she dreamed of sharing it with.

Fire
fairy… perhaps.

Well, the man had best be ready to deal with what he had insisted on bringing home.

***

The hall was filling up. The sun had set, and everyone was ready to take some time to relax after the day's demands. Her undergown rustled, announcing her arrival. Heads turned in her direction before she had even made it to the doorway. The conversation died then rose again in hushed whispers. Daphne held her chin steady, ordering herself to not pluck at the skirt of the gown. She kept her toes on the floor when she moved, using slow, flowing steps as her mother had once taught her some ten years ago.

A
lady
did
not
hurry
on
her
way
down
the
aisle.

She made sure everyone had time to admire her and the costly garments her family had provided her with.

A
lady
was
meant
to
be
noticed.

A lady studied dance, music, literature, and language to ensure when she was noticed, it was for her poise and sharp wits.

Nonetheless, she wanted to hurry to Norris's side. At least she did until their eyes met. She felt the connection all the way to her toes. His green eyes were full of surprise, which burned away to reveal astonishment. His expression became a mask of enjoyment, stealing her breath. What really stunned her were his actions.

Norris Sutherland, heir to the Earldom of Sutherland, stood.

It was the height of compliments, the pinnacle of gestures that only his betters might have demanded of him, and that list was very short. It included the king and other earls, but even her father had been this man's vassal. The hall went silent, and then it was filled with the scraping of benches being pushed back as every Sutherland retainer followed their laird's son.

She walked past them all, catching the tugging on the edges of bonnets out of the corners of her eyes because she never looked away from Norris. She did stop at the base leading up to the high table. She lowered herself, waiting for the earl to raise her.

“Join us, since it seems me son can nae remain in his chair while ye are nae beside him.”

The earl was frowning, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. Daphne didn't have time to dwell on what that meant, because Norris descended two of the stairs and offered her his hand. She could feel everyone's attention on them, making the moment seem important somehow. Like the first time Broen MacNicols had welcomed her to his home as his intended bride. What had gone before didn't matter. When she placed her hand into Norris's, there was a soft sound of approval from behind her.

She didn't look over her shoulder. What drew her attention was the look in his green eyes. There was an intensity there that melted every doubt she had. There was no reason to ponder what tomorrow might bring, because she trusted in the man grasping her hand so securely.

***

Supper began with the wailing of pipes. The great hall was ringed by a balcony where musicians might stand out of sight. The clàrsach players followed, filling the hall with sweet melodies while maids carried platters of food to the head table. Each serving plate was covered with a silver dome to keep the food hot. Once the dome was removed, steam rose from the dishes, proving the Earl of Sutherland lived as finely as a king. Personal attendants laid silver plates in front of those dining at the head table, the serviceware having been guarded to ensure the earl was not poisoned.

Isla stepped up and took the goblet brought for Daphne. Both the earl and Norris had men assigned to their goblets, and those men would not let the drinking vessels out of their sight. It was a necessary precaution in a world riddled with power-hungry rivals. Now that she had publicly stepped up to sit beside Norris, she too would have to behave cautiously or risk having someone poison her in order to empty Norris's bed.

There were meat pies and fresh, sweet bread. Cheese arrived with late harvest fruits. Norris delighted in filling her plate while his people watched.

“Enough,” she whispered. “The hounds will end up believing they have transformed into knights when they see the scraps tonight.”

He raised one eyebrow suggestively. “Are ye saying ye are finished, lass?”

“Aye,” she answered before recognizing she had played right into his trap. A wolfish grin appeared on his lips, and he pushed his chair back so fast the man holding his cup had to jump aside or be hit.

“I bid ye good night, Father.”

“Do ye now?” the earl drawled slowly. “Before we've sampled the marzipan tart yer companion assisted in making? Nae, ye must stay and enjoy the sweet.”

Norris dropped back into his chair, looking pitiful. He cast a frustrated look toward her. “Ye had to help make that tart.”

She grinned softly and fluttered her eyelashes. “How could I fail to tempt ye with me skills?”

He reached beneath the table and squeezed her thigh. There was a promise of retribution flickering in his eyes as the tart was brought down the aisle. It seemed to take a small eternity for the cook to unveil it and slice it into servings.

“Well now, ye do know a thing or two about preparing one of me favorite dishes,” Lytge muttered after licking his lips. “Perhaps ye might join me in me study to explain yer methods.”

Norris growled at his sire. The earl pretended surprise, but there was a familiar flicker of wickedness in his eyes that she had often witnessed in Norris's.

“Off with the pair of ye, then.”

This time, the man holding Norris's goblet moved out of the way fast enough. Norris was on his feet and dragged her chair back to the delight of the retainers at the lower tables. They raised their mugs, slapping the tabletops and making their wooden dishes bounce.

Norris offered them all a nod before clasping her wrist and nearly running down the aisle. Her silk skirts flew up, flashing her lace stockings as she lost the battle not to giggle.

“Ye marauder,” she accused when at last she stumbled into his chamber.

“If that were the case, I would have tossed ye over me shoulder.”

“As if yer people have nae seen that afore,” she answered, walking in a small circle as she caught her breath. To be honest, the rapid rate of her heart wasn't due solely to the brisk pace Norris had set. Anticipation was flooding her with excitement now that the chamber door was closed and they were alone. She froze when she realized she and Norris had begun to circle each other. Surprise appeared on his face, and he offered her a bow.

“Ye bring out the savage in me. But I admit tonight I wanted me people to see ye following me.” It was an admission and one a man like Norris didn't make easily. He was on guard, waiting to see what she'd make of his words.

“They saw me dressed for ye too.”

He tossed his bonnet onto the table. “Aye, lass, and it meant a great deal to me.”

She could see that. It confused and astounded her but, most of all, it drew her toward him. She reached for the top button of his doublet, working it free. The scent of his skin teased her. He shrugged out of the garment when she finished and dropped it over a chair. A soft rap came from the door, and it began to open.

“Be gone,” he bellowed, drawing a giggle from her.

The door jerked shut as he raised an eyebrow, and she opened the collar of his shirt.

“Amused by my being caught half-dressed, are ye?” He cupped her cheek, rubbing the delicate surface for a moment, and then he circled around her and tugged on the ends of the laces that held her overgown closed.

“Let us see how ye like having the tables turned on ye.”

She
was
going
to
enjoy
it
full
well…

The silk underslip crinkled as it was released and fell toward the floor. Norris grasped her waist and lifted her free of it.

“Sweet Mother of Christ. Where did ye get those? And where are yer stays?”

She stretched out one leg to ensure he gained a good view of the lace stocking. “Asgree suggested I wear them, and I do nae need stays.”

He cupped her breasts through the thin fabric of her chemise, teasing her nipples with his thumbs. She worked the buttons of his cuffs loose, impatient to be pressed against him.

“I don't want to talk.” The words simply escaped, her emotions unwilling to be controlled. Her yearnings wanted freedom, and she was in complete agreement.

“Neither do I.”

He backed up and pulled the end of his belt loose. Another jerk, and he'd released the buckle that held the strap of leather tightly to his waist. His kilt fell, but he caught it before it hit the floor. He tossed it on the chair, then sat down and unlaced his boots. She leaned over and pulled one off.

“Now there is a service I can become accustomed to.”

The front of her chemise was gaping open to afford him a clear look down her body. Beneath the tail of his shirt, his cock hardened and stood.

He grunted and pulled his other boot off himself then stood up. “I want ye in me bed tonight, lass.”

He pinched out the candles, encasing them in darkness before he swept her off her feet. She didn't gasp but made a sound of pleasure instead. Cradled against his chest, she listened to the sound of his bare feet crossing the stone floor to the carpet by his bed.

As he sat her down and pulled her chemise loose, the ropes holding the mattress groaned softly. With no light, she never saw it flutter to the floor, but she felt her lover join her. His lips pressed against hers in a kiss she felt she'd been waiting months for. She reached for him, pulling him against her, and they twisted and stroked each other. Time ceased, and she was willingly trapped in the moment. Clinging to her companion, she held him with her thighs when he pressed himself inside her. They moved together in perfect harmony, straining toward each other as the need to be together consumed them. When release came, it was pure rapture, burning away everything and leaving them content in each other's embrace.

***

Daphne awoke to a hand smoothing along her back. She rubbed her eyes and blinked when sunlight burned them.

Norris was staring at the bruises on her back. “How bad is the pain now?”

She rolled away from him and earned a frown.

“I hardly notice them.” However, as she moved too quickly after waking, a small twinge of pain twisted through her. He didn't miss it.

“Really, it is fine, just a bit stiff in the morning.” She looked at the window and realized the sun was up. “Why are ye still here?”

He chuckled, stood up, and walked across the chamber to a wardrobe. “Maybe I wanted to enjoy a few more moments of being with someone who enjoys me company simply for meself and nae the things to be gained from befriending me.”

He shrugged into a shirt and sat down to put on his boots. “Or maybe I woke up early and resisted falling back asleep for fear ye'd slip out of me bed again.”