The Wrong Highlander, page 13
Evina nodded. “Father was preparing to petition the king for justice in me aunt’s murder when uncle Garrick’s brother, Tearlach, arrived at Maclean. It seems Garrick, on realizing Donnan had taken me aunt and Gavin away, rode out after them, determined to bring them back. He was still drunk, however, took a tumble from his horse and broke his neck.”
“Ah.” Conran nodded. “So why was the brother there? Why did he no’ just send a messenger?”
“He wanted our silence,” she said grimly. “He had inherited the title and castle, and had no interest in Gavin, but wanted to ensure our silence on the matter. He didn’t want the MacLeod name tainted by his brother’s actions. In exchange for our silence, he offered a king’s ransom in jewels and coin. He called it a thyftbote.”
“A theft fine,” Conran said grimly.
Evina shrugged. “Murder is looked on as a theft of life.”
“And yer father accepted?” Conran asked, sounding outraged.
“No’ at first,” she said solemnly. “But then, as he explained it to me later, he realized that Garrick was dead, and me aunt was dead, but Gavin yet lived. His name too would be sullied. He’d grow up the son of a murderer, and at least this way he’d have an inheritance. Father kept the thyftbote for him and plans to give it to him when he is eighteen.”
Conran was silent for a moment. He was impressed that she’d told him this. It was another example of her honesty. Many would have kept such dark family secrets just that, a secret. As if the fact that it happened somehow reflected on them. She had told it simply and without concern for how he would take it. But what he was seeing was that her aunt’s story, while a tragic one, was made more so because it had happened when Evina was ten. That was a very impressionable age, and with it following on the heels of an immature boy for a husband who tried to make her eat worms and hit her when she refused, it must have just seemed like men, or at least husbands, were the devil.
“Evina,” he said finally, “I’m sorry about what happened to yer aunt, but I can promise ye I would ne’er beat ye.”
Conran knew that hadn’t soothed her when she asked, “But what if ye want me to do something I do no’ want to do?”
Conran sat back again and peered at her solemnly. “I ken ye’re afraid o’ ending up like yer aunt, but—”
“Aye, I am,” Evina interrupted him to agree. “But I also do no’ want to be beaten for disobeying, or refusing to do something I do no’ want to do,” she said grimly. “And I will.”
When Conran raised his eyebrows, she nodded solemnly. “’Tis the truth, I’m no’ very good at doing what I’m told if I do no’ agree with it,” she admitted quietly. “Father puts up with me ‘rebellious nonsense’ as he puts it. But who’s to say ye would? And if we married, ’twould be yer right to beat me,” she pointed out.
“I’ve ne’er beaten a woman in me life, Evi,” Conran told her firmly. “No’ even me sister, Saidh, and if anyone deserved a beating ’twas her. Yet even when wrestling and play-battling, me and all me brothers were always careful no’ to hurt her. I think I can safely promise no’ to ever beat ye.”
Evina nodded, but was thinking he’d hardly admit he would beat her night and day. She’d never marry him then.
“I suppose it’s difficult for ye to trust that what I say is true,” he murmured after a moment, surveying her expression. When she didn’t respond, he suggested, “We could put it in the marriage contract.”
“That ye’re no’ allowed to beat me?” she asked uncertainly.
“Aye, and that if I do . . .” He paused, apparently unable to come up with a suitable punishment. Evina had one though.
“If ye do, then ye have to live in the hunting lodge on the edge o’ Maclean and leave me to live here alone in peace,” she suggested quietly.
Conran raised his eyebrows at the suggestion, but nodded. “Very well. We’ll put that in the marriage contract, then.”
“Okay,” Evina agreed, relaxing a little. She wondered though if he really would. If so, she might just be willing to marry him. Certainly, his agreeing to do so made her happier and more relaxed about this getting-to-know-him business.
Chapter 9
“So, yer father was more involved in the running of Maclean ere yer mother’s death,” Conran commented as he surveyed the chessboard.
“Aye,” Evina murmured. “Da did no’ care about much for a while after Mother died. Truth be told, neither did I,” she admitted wryly. “We both moped about like a couple o’ jugglers who’d lost their balls. It, o’ course, affected everyone at Maclean. They were all grieving their mistress as well. Mother was well-loved by our people.”
Conran grunted in understanding.
“But then Gavin arrived,” Evina said with a smile.
“And?” Conran prompted, glancing up with interest when she fell silent. He’d spent the last five days since Evina woke in her company, trying to win her over. They’d played chess, Nine Men’s Morris and various other games, chatting lightly as they did. But this was the first time she’d opened up about her past again and what had shaped her. It was the first sign she was relaxing around him and beginning to trust him.
While Conran was very aware that his time was running out to convince her that marriage had more to offer than their rather disappointing experience in the clearing, he’d refused to rush things. He was glad he had. Once she’d started talking, even just about day-to-day things and such, he’d found Evina was intelligent and had a good sense of humor. He was actually coming to like her, and see their upcoming marriage as more than a duty, or even a challenge. Conran was beginning to think they might suit each other rather well.
“Well, at first ’twas a bit o’ a trial,” she admitted with amusement. “I had little experience o’ raising a bairn, and he was only two to me ten. But Tildy was there to help and I got the hang o’ it. Things improved. Besides, ’tis hard to mope about when there is a child gadding around,” Evina said with a faint smile. “Gavin was always laughing and rushing this way or that. He brought life back to Maclean. Even Da found some interest in what was going on again and started to come around.”
Conran smiled. “Aye, children can be a blessing that way. Me nieces can drive me sister mad, but they have her and her husband wrapped around their little fingers. The rest o’ us too. There’s nothing I would no’ do for the little buggers,” he admitted wryly.
“Ye’d welcome a child, then?” Evina asked.
“Oh, aye, I’d like a passel o’ them,” he said at once, his attention split between the game and the conversation . . . until he became aware of the silence his answer brought on. Glancing up quickly, he noted her expression and recalled that she might not welcome making those children . . . yet. He hadn’t shown her the pleasure that could be found in the making.
“Evi,” Conran said quietly. “I ken yer first experience was no’ a wholly pleasing one, but the first time is often difficult fer the lass, and I fear I did no’ go as slowly and with as much care as I would have had I kenned ye were so inexperienced. I promise ye though, the next time will no’ be like that.”
Evina flushed and waved his words away as she lowered her face to stare at the chessboard. She obviously didn’t want to discuss this, and it wasn’t the first time she’d pushed the subject away. It had been skirted several times over the past couple of days. Anytime anything was said that came anywhere even close to the subject of sex, or the marriage bed, she shied away from it like a horse from an abusive owner bearing a crop. It made him feel horrible. She wasn’t a weak woman. To react like this, she must have experienced a great deal of pain with the breaching. He needed to get her past that.
“Evi,” Conran said quietly, and when she reluctantly raised her gaze to him, he said, “I’d like to prove that to ye.”
She blinked at the words, and then her eyes widened as she realized what he was saying, and she started to shake her head.
“I promise I’ll stop the minute ye ask me to, but ye liked it when I kissed ye, did ye no’?”
Evina paused, uncertainty entering her expression.
“What if I just kiss ye, then, to start?” he suggested solemnly.
“Just kissing?” she asked, eyes narrowed warily.
Conran could tell that she was tempted. That was a relief. At least he knew she’d enjoyed his kisses. He’d thought so, but after the mess he’d made of the breaching, he hadn’t even been sure about that.
“Just kissing. I promise,” he assured her. “I’ll no’ even touch ye with me hands except to hold ye.”
Evina considered Conran solemnly, tempted by the suggestion. She hadn’t been allowed from her sickbed yet, so she’d sat up and he’d stacked furs and bolsters behind her to support her, and they’d set the board on her lap. Conran had then settled on the side of the bed, one foot on the floor next to the bed, and the other curled under the upper leg of the first as he faced her. It left her unable to escape his gaze in any way except to drop her eyes to the chessboard on her lap as she considered his suggestion. She had enjoyed his kisses. But that’s what had led to the other stuff that had led to the pain, she reminded herself. Her mind immediately argued that he was promising kissing only, and that might be nice.
Biting her lip, Evina struggled with herself briefly, and then gave one very small nod. It was all that was needed. His breath leaving him on a relieved sigh, Conran leaned across the chessboard, and pressed his lips gently to hers.
Evina remained still at first, just enjoying the featherlight brush of his lips over hers, but then his mouth pressed more firmly, and his tongue slid out. Closing her eyes, she opened her mouth to him and sighed as he filled her. It was as nice as she recalled, his tongue exploring and stirring a fire in her belly that had her moaning and easing forward, trying to get closer.
She was vaguely aware of the chessboard and pieces sliding from her lap and toppling off the bed to the floor as her arms crept around his shoulders, but Evina paid it little attention. Conran had all of that. Or his lips did, and the things he was doing with them as his mouth slanted over hers, first one way and then the other.
When his mouth broke from hers, Evina opened her eyes and stiffened slightly, but he was pressing kisses across her cheek. She gasped in surprise and shifted as his lips reached her ear and sent new swirls of excitement spinning through her. Conran’s mouth moved down her neck next, and he kissed, nibbled and scraped the sensitive skin lightly with his teeth.
Evina moaned and let her head fall back, her hands moving to cup his head now as he made his way down to the top of her tunic. She shuddered when he ran his tongue lightly along it, aware that she was panting, and beginning to shift her legs restlessly, and then his mouth lifted again. She opened her eyes and lifted her head, expecting and even eager to have him kiss her lips again, but instead his mouth came down on her uninjured breast, finding the nipple and beginning to suckle it through the quickly dampening cloth of her tunic.
“Oh!” Evina gasped, her hands clenching in his hair.
Conran lifted his head at once to glance up. Voice soft, he murmured soothingly, “’Tis all right, I’ll no’ touch ye. Kissing only.”
“Aye, kissing,” she breathed, and then bit her lip as he urged the loose neckline of her tunic off one shoulder with his mouth. When it dropped away to reveal the breast he’d been kissing through the gown, Conran claimed her nipple again, this time without the damp cloth in the way.
“Oh, God,” Evina cried, arching into the caress, and then shaking her head at the unbearable pleasure that coursed through her as he took most of her breast into his mouth and let it slowly slide out, his teeth lightly scraping the tender nipple as it escaped. He didn’t claim it again though, but instead laved the underside of her breast and then began to kiss his way down her stomach.
Panting with mounting excitement, Evina glanced down with confusion to see that the other shoulder of her tunic had somehow slipped off her shoulder. The tunic now lay around her waist, leaving her bare from her midriff up. Even as she noticed that, Conran lifted his head and kissed her lips again. This time his mouth was demanding and the kiss almost violent with need. Evina responded in kind, her arms tightening around his shoulders as he tugged away the pillows and furs propping her up and urged her to lie back.
The moment Evina was lying flat, he tore his mouth from hers and made another pass down her body, stopping to lavish her breast with attention, before continuing down her stomach. Conran’s kissing and nibbling stopped where the tunic and furs started, but then he tugged the furs aside.
Evina stiffened and lifted her head then, but he returned to kissing her lower stomach, and then ran his tongue along the top of where the tunic had gathered, and she gasped and jerked beneath him as her muscles jumped in response. When he went lower though and pressed his mouth against the loose material gathered between her legs, she stiffened, and opened her eyes, struggling with an urge to scramble away from him until he blew his breath on her, warming the material he was dampening, and the eager flesh beneath.
Swallowing, Evina caught her hands in the linen on either side of her and waited, breathlessly, and then gasped in surprise when his mouth dropped lower to press kisses to her knees below the hem of the tunic. When he began to trail kisses up one thigh, pushing the tunic ahead as he went, Evina cried out, and shifted her legs as she began to tremble. By the time Conran’s mouth reached her core, she was strung as taut as a bow and tugging viciously at the linen. But when his mouth settled there and he began to kiss her most intimately, she cried out and rose halfway up on the bed, her hands reaching for his head.
Conran didn’t try to stop her, but he didn’t halt what he was doing either. Ignoring the fingers that caught in his hair and tugged, he pressed deeper, his mouth sliding between her folds to lash her sensitive flesh with his tongue.
Evina cried out and dropped back to lie flat on the bed again. Eyes wide open, she stared blindly up at the bed drapes overhead, her body shimmying under his attention as he kissed and licked and teased, whipping her into a frenzy of desperate need. Evina was hardly aware of what she was doing when she raised her knees, planted her feet flat on the bed on either side of him and pressed down, lifting her hips up into this new pleasure. Her body was responding of its own accord, seeking the tongue that was rasping across her aching flesh, and the lips nibbling and sucking eagerly. But when his tongue slid out, pressing into her there as it would if he were kissing her mouth, Evina screamed and bucked as her body convulsed with the pleasure she’d experienced so briefly before.
This time it was not brief, and there was no pain to follow. Conran continued to lash, suckle and nip, driving her over the edge again and again, until she lost her mind a little. Literally. By the time he stopped, she was a shuddering, mindless mass in the bed, aware of little else but the way her body was pulsing in the aftermath.
When Evina regained awareness, it was to find herself curled up against his chest in the bed, Conran still fully dressed, and her with her tunic tangled around her waist leaving everything else bare but for the bandage on her one breast, held in place by a strip of linen that ran along the tops of her breasts and around behind her and back and another along the bottom of her breasts. She was lying on her uninjured side, with her leg thrown over both of his, and his arms were around her as he rubbed her back soothingly, careful to avoid putting any pressure on her bandaged wound.
At first, Evina just lay there in his arms, unsure what to do or say. What she’d just experienced had been . . . well, it had been stunning, amazing, mind-shattering. But now she was more than a little embarrassed and unsure how to proceed. The man had just . . . and she had . . .
Good Lord, that brief bit of pleasure she’d experienced in the clearing had been nothing next to this. It had been like a peck on the cheek compared to a proper, full-mouth kiss with caressing hands and grinding bodies. She had never imagined the marriage bed could be as wonderful as that, and wondered what other pleasures there were to enjoy there.
“I should let ye rest.”
Evina stilled at those soft words, unsure how to respond. Before she figured it out, he had eased her from his arms and was sliding out from beneath her to stand up.
“I’ll visit ye again later, after ye’ve rested,” Conran murmured, already heading for the door.
Evina watched him go silently, her wide eyes on the way his plaid was tented in front. It seemed she hadn’t been the only one excited by that, just the only one who had found her release.
Conran didn’t encounter anyone in the hall on his way from Evina’s room to his own, and was grateful for it. Feasting on her body had been a delight. Her gasps and moans, and mewls of excitement and pleasure, had stirred a matching excitement and desire in him. The way she’d writhed and shuddered under his ministrations had been almost maddening, and his body had urged him to pin her down and sink himself into the moist depths he’d been tasting, but he’d managed to ignore those urgings and keep his promise. Only just. Now he was as hard as a sword under his plaid, his cock aching with the need to find its own release. Something he intended on seeing to as soon as he reached his room. Or at least that had been the plan, he acknowledged as he entered his room to find Aulay there, lounging on his bed with his hands intertwined behind his head.
“Ah! There ye are,” Aulay said, sitting up and slipping his feet to the floor as Conran paused in his open doorway. “I suspected ye’d be along soon enough when I heard Evina cry out. The girl has a fine set of lungs on her, and ye were obviously showing her the benefits o’ the marriage bed as I suggested. Those screams did no’ sound pained or angry.”
Conran closed his eyes on a sigh. It appeared he wouldn’t be tending his aching cock any time soon.
“Although, from the looks o’ ye, ye did no’ show her how the mating itself could be pleasurable, but stuck to pleasuring her alone.”
Conran’s eyes popped open and he noted without surprise that his brother was eyeing him below the waist with a combination of amusement and sympathy.
