Reckless by Hannah Howell

6

Kate frowned as she stood in the doorway. She knew Ailis was to have slept there, yet the room looked as if it had not been used at all. But that was impossible. She knew the girl was not with the children, for Barra had tended to their dressing and brought them into the great hall. Neither was she with Jaime, who was still closely attended by Angus. Nevertheless, she had checked the children’s rooms and turned up nothing. Her heart pounding with growing concern as she tried to understand how the girl could possibly go missing, Kate hurried back toward the great hall only to meet Barra walking to Alexander’s room.

“How fares the lass?” Barra asked in honest concern, for he saw that Kate was clearly upset. “She hasna been hurt, has she? Or become too despondent?”

Although unable to believe Ailis had escaped, especially without the children or Jaime, Kate mumbled, “I dinna ken.”

“What do ye mean, you dinna ken?” Barra demanded, giving the agitated girl a slight shake. “Come, Kate, explain yourself.”

“I dinna ken how she fares because I canna find her.” Kate wrung her hands as she became more and more agitated.

“Ye canna find her?”

“Nay. The bed that was readied for her looks unused, and she isna in the bairns’ rooms.”

“God’s teeth, do ye think she has managed to escape?”

“Without even Jaime?” Kate asked, her doubt clear to hear in her voice.

“Nay.” Barra frowned, but then his eyes widened. “Alexander.” He wondered if they had been foolish not to suspect just how far the spirit they had admired in Ailis might take her in a fight for her honor, a fight against Alexander.

Kate hurried after Barra as he strode to Alexander’s chamber. She, too, suddenly realized that if the girl had fled, she might well have done something to the laird. Barra’s gasp and broad back prevented her from entering the laird’s chamber. She saw that Barra seemed rooted to the spot he had stopped on inside the doorway, so she peered around him only to echo his astonishment.

Barra had to fight a brief, sharp twinge of jealousy as he studied his brother. Alexander’s golden crowned head was easy to see against the black and gold which pillowed it. His face was tucked up against Ailis’s long slender neck while one of his hands gently cupped the breast not covered by his body. One of Ailis’s slim arms was curled around his broad shoulders and, though covered, it was easy to see that their legs were entwined beneath the sheet. The look upon Alexander’s face was one Barra had not seen for years, the tension completely washed away. That was as surprising as the clear proof that he had kept Ailis in his bed the whole night through. Barra started to smile as he saw his brother begin to wake up.

Even as he first opened his eyes, Alexander knew who was tucked up in his arms. He eased himself partly off of Ailis, keeping his gaze fixed upon her full breasts, which had provided him with such a delectable resting place. Despite having enjoyed the passion they shared several times during the night, Alexander felt his loins tighten. He could not deny that what he had experienced with Ailis was the richest, fullest he had ever enjoyed, and he wanted more. Neither could he deny that it simply felt good to wake up next to her.

He traced the dusky tip of her full breast with one long finger. He watched as her nipple hardened in response and Ailis’s slim body begin to stir. Alexander did the same to her other breast, and it brought the same reaction as well as a swat from one slim arm. Ailis then turned onto her side and cuddled up to her pillow.

As Ailis turned away from Alexander, she muttered, “Leave me be, ye rapacious rogue. By all the Saints, do ye never give it a rest?”

The sound of smothered laughter from the doorway caused Alexander to turn. He changed his grin to a frown but could not hide the laughter in his eyes. One jerk of his thumb was enough to send Barra and Kate silently retreating. Alexander wanted no audience for what he was planning.

Barra’s amusement fled as he walked toward the great hall, Kate shadowing his steps. “It isna good.”

“Nay,” spoke up Kate with a familiarity born of having grown up within the keep, her parents old and trusted retainers. “ ‘Tis very good that the MacFarlane lass wasna hurt nor afrightened, but ‘tisna good that his lairdship finds such pleasure with her. Nay, not when she is the first to bring it to him. She is a MacFarlane. She must be ransomed and sent away.”

 

As he watched her sleep, Alexander briefly wondered how long Ailis’s stay at Rathmor would be. He reached out and gently but firmly turned her onto her back. He met her heavy-lidded glare with a smile. His smile widened when she muttered something about being left alone to sleep, and she closed her eyes again. The hard tips of her breasts told her she was not as disinterested as she was acting.

“Ye sleep, then,” he said as he moved to lie between her shapely legs and propped himself up on his elbows. “I will just carry on.”

Ailis was still drowsy, but that did not stop her from being stirred by the feel of his body against hers. She had no intention of admitting that, however. All through the night she had kept her resistance only vocal, and that very little, for she had realized that after Alexander came Donald MacCordy. The very thought of Donald doing to her as Alexander had turned her stomach. She decided she would be a fool not to enjoy what she could while she could. And, she mused, not enjoying it would only have made her suffer anyways, for it might not have stopped Alexander and it certainly would not help her elude Donald’s fury later.

“Carry on whilst I sleep?” she murmured in a voice still husky with sleep and enhanced by her growing desire as Alexander stroked her breast. “That is disgusting.”

“If ye go to sleep, ye willna care,” he said in a cheerful tone before he drew the tip of her breast deep into his mouth.

There was no way for Ailis to hide how that stirred her desire. A soft cry escaped her as she buried her hands in his long thick hair. Her mind slipped from the hazy realms of partial sleep into the ones of passion. He was her enemy, the thief of her virtue and her honor, yet his touch enflamed her. It did not matter that she had been taught since she was a small child to loathe MacDubhs—she craved his touch. When Alexander slowly entered her, she sighed with a delight she could not disguise despite how her body ached as a consequence of such a new experience.

“Ye seem to have come awake quite nicely, lass,” he said as he brushed soft kisses over her face.

“ ‘Tis hard to sleep when some rogue is mauling me about.” She clutched at his lean hips to pull him much closer even as she wrapped her legs around him to urge him on.

A husky laugh escaped Alexander as he met her gaze, and he slid his hand over her body in a sweeping caress. He found it intensely exciting to watch her as she gained her release. It was satisfying to know that he was the one who had brought that look of blind ecstasy to her face, that he was the first man to do so. He barely got a glimpse of that look this time for he found himself swept along with her as they simultaneously reached the pinnacle the bodies strove for. They clung together as their bodies trembled from the force of release and from the echoes of it. It was a long time before Alexander had the strength and inclination to free himself of the intimate tangle of their bodies.

He gently extracted himself from Ailis’s languid embrace, rolled over onto his back, and pulled the cover over them. Now that the pleasure was past, Alexander found that he was deeply troubled. This time there had been no chance for him to ignore or deny the rich sense of unity he felt with her. So full was the sex act with her that he was hard-pressed to conjure up the barest memory of any one that had gone before. He realized that it was going to be very hard to give that up, but she was a MacFarlane and there was no place for her at Rathmor. There was MacDubh blood on her family’s hands and deep treachery, which needed to be avenged.

Those were facts he knew he would have to constantly remind himself of. He would try to console himself with the theory that if there was one woman who could thrill and sate him so completely, then somewhere there had to be another. When Ailis was gone, he would start his search for that other one.

Ailis watched Alexander as he rose to dress. His sudden silence troubled her as did the remote look upon his face. There was little hint of warmth or any expression in his blue eyes. She could grasp no hint of his thoughts or feelings. Since he had not acted like that before they had made love, she could only assume that there was something about that which had changed him. It hurt to think that something she had thought was so beautiful could be a source of trouble and worry to Alexander, and she did not question that hurt.

Her eyes widened as a possible explanation firmed in her mind, one it was impossible to scorn even if scorn was what it deserved. She was the niece and heir of the man who had killed Alexander’s father and stolen his land. She was also the betrothed of a man he detested. Their lovemaking should not be beautiful, should not leave him shaking and clinging to her. It should be no more than an act of vengeance with a touch of lusting. Ailis knew it was not vanity which made her certain that Alexander had enjoyed her, hungered for her. That a MacDubh should feel so for a MacFarlane was what troubled her captor. She prayed that it would not drive him to treat her harshly.

The thought that Alexander could yet hand her over to his men crept insidiously into her mind, and she shivered as an icy fear seeped through her. She did not want to believe that he could be so cruel, but she had to admit that despite their intimacy, he was a stranger to her. Alexander’s goal was, after all, to strike at her uncle and Donald, and to make her the whore of his men-at-arms would certainly do that. It would also rid him of something he now found troubling. He could do it to prove to himself, and her, that there was nothing extraordinary about what they had shared. So, too, could such an abuse of her work to end whatever desire he held for her.

When Alexander moved to leave, she put aside her fears and spoke up. “Am I to be kept within these chambers?” She pushed aside the hurt caused by the evidence that he had forgotten her presence.

Alexander turned, blinking, as he pulled his mind back from its wanderings. “Ye wouldna get a foot away from these walls if ye did try to flee. There is no need to keep ye locked up. ‘Tis time and gone to break our fast. Get dressed.”

She reached down by the bedside and collected up her torn clothes, holding them up for him to see. “Dressed in what, m’laird?”

He muttered a curse that caused her eyes to widen, then he snapped, “That wouldna have happened if ye had undressed as I asked ye to.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

It was not hard for Alexander to read her low opinion of his reasoning in her look as she dropped her clothes back onto the floor. The problem was that he no longer knew what fashion was being worn by ladies and even unfashionable female clothing was rare at Rathmor. She did need something, there was no denying that, but what?

He agitatedly paced the chamber as he spoke his thoughts aloud. “I canna think of any wench about Rathmor who is of a size with ye. Ye are such a wee lass. By the saints, even if there was a lass your size, she wouldna have a spare gown. Can your clothes not be repaired, stitched back together?”

One glance was enough for Ailis to be certain of her answer, and she shook her head. “I dinna have a great deal of skill with a needle, but even if your best seamstress took on the chore, ‘twouldna help. The clothes were closely fitted ere they were torn. What of Barra’s wife’s things?”

“They are gone. When that slattern died, we cleared away all sign of her. So it was with my traitorous stepmother and my own late wife. They were all larger than ye anyway.” As he talked he studied her, then slowly smiled. “Aye. Aye, it just may do, although ‘twill certainly widen a few eyes.”

Ailis watched him in growing confusion as he moved to a heavy chest that had clearly been kept shut a long time. Her confusion grew when she saw that the chest held clothes that, if they were Alexander’s, he had not worn for many years. It struck her as odd that all of those women’s clothes would have been cleared away, yet he cared for clothes that could only have been worn when he was a small boy or youth. She pushed the thought aside when he laid out a set of those clothes, his gaze bright with enjoyment. She realized he meant her to put them on.

“Is not making me your whore vengeance enough?” she asked, stung by what appeared to be another attempt to cause her shame and humiliation.

Alexander was immediately sobered. “Nay, I dinna do this to humiliate ye. ‘Tis all I have unless ye wish to stay naked within these chambers until something can be made for ye.”

For a long moment she stared into his eyes, but there was no sign there that he was lying. It could be quite a while before a new set of clothing could be made up for her. When the only alternative was to be chained to the bedchamber by her own nakedness, donning boy’s clothing suddenly did not seem so abhorrent. Ailis was also sure that everyone would know why she had been brought to such a pass. That would be embarrassing, but she felt she could endure that if only because it would undoubtedly be short-lived.

“Will ye leave or turn your back while I dress?” she asked as, with a sigh, she reached for the clothes.

A mix of a grin and a leer curved Alexander’s mouth as he replied, “I am well acquainted with your charms, m’lady.”

Several tart replies sprang to her lips even as color flooded her cheeks, but she knew better than to utter them. “Please.”

After a brief hesitation he shrugged and turned his back. If nothing else he owed her some small measure of courtesy for the pleasure she had given him. The only reason he lingered at all was so that he could escort her to the great hall, for he knew she would need some support at first. He told himself he was being kind just to placate Barra’s sensitive conscience, that a few small kindnesses would be necessary to ensure that there was no further quarrel between himself and Barra.

Ailis took a deep breath to steady herself, then stood up and began to dress. As she tugged on each piece, she found that they felt strange, yet not unpleasantly so. There was no musty smell to the clothes, either. She wondered if such good care had been taken in the hope that an heir would make use of them. Alexander had certainly not worn them for a long time because they fit her rather well. She found it a little difficult to picture him as a lad of her small stature.

She gave a fretful tug on the gray jupon as she strode toward the table where he had left his brush, for she needed to fix her hair. The clothes made her feel very aware, too aware, of her form, and she strove to forget that. A soft noise similar to a swiftly indrawn breath caused her to quickly turn, the brush clutched tightly in her hands, and look at Alexander.

Impatient, Alexander had turned to tell her to hurry only to nearly choke on his abrupt inhale at his first look at her. If Ailis was any example, there was a very good reason why women were not allowed to dress in men’s clothes. Every man at Rathmor would be set aflame by the sight of her. He certainly was, and he should have fed his lusts enough during the long passion-filled night. A man who allowed his woman to dress so would undoubtedly be driven to the grave by the never-ending need to protect her from lust-crazed men, he mused with a dark scowl.

“Is something amiss?” she asked.

“Nay,” he managed to grunt.

“What am I to do about my hair?” she muttered mostly to herself as she brushed it.

Alexander pulled himself free of his stupor and replied, “Braid it. That will do fine enough. Canna ye hurry it along a wee bit?”

She swallowed her annoyance and tried to hurry. She tried to figure out his strange mood. He seemed so edgy, yet she could not understand why he should be. The full, lusty night they had just indulged in should have put him into a far more amiable state. She began to wonder if he possessed anything similar to a good humor. When he grumbled a curse and proceeded to braid her hair himself, she stood quietly, deciding it best not to press his temper. If she did she feared he might yet decide that robbing her of her chastity was not punishment enough for being Colin MacFarlane’s kinswoman.

Her good intention faded when he grabbed her by the arm and hastily started out for the great hall. “Will ye slow down a pace? I find more freedom in these clothes, ‘tis true, but I have no love of a race. Nor do I wish to enter the hall at a dead run. I shall be too winded to eat.”

His steps slowed a little, but he grumbled, “Ye have made us both late. We may find naught but scraps left for our meal.”

“If a meal in your belly will make ye less of a surly dog, mayhaps we should run.”

He ignored her even as he mused that she was very pert, especially for a woman in her precarious position. They stepped into the great hall, and his eyes narrowed in a dangerous expression as he watched the men seated there. Their reaction to Ailis was all he had anticipated and more. The scowl on his face sent their lusty glances into hiding, but he knew that lust remained. He dragged Ailis to the head table, seating her at his side with a distinct lack of manners, then threw himself into his own chair. Alexander sternly told himself that he should not care how his men looked at one of the hated MacFarlanes, then glared another of his men-at-arms into submission.

“Ye look fine,” Rath said from his seat on Ailis’s left. “Now ye can climb trees without cursing your skirts.”

“I never curse,” Ailis lied out of habit as she idly mused that her odd attire was being accepted very calmly.

Rath giggled along with his sibling. “Nay, I must have been mistaken. What shall we do today, Aunt?”

“That must be decided by our, er, host.” She flicked a glance at a still-frowning Alexander. “What may we do and not do, sir?”

Glad to have some diversion from his thoughts, which threatened to have him dragging her back to bed, Alexander replied. Unspoken but clearly understood throughout his brief litany of directions was the fact that she and Jaime would be well watched. The freedom of movement he appeared to be allowing her was all a delusion. He would make very sure that she was allowed little chance to escape. Ailis was a little dismayed to realize that she had not really given escape much thought for a while.

Once done with her meal, she left the great hall to go and walk the grounds of Rathmor. Jaime and the children followed but not too closely. She was well aware of her constant guard despite how subtle the men were about it. Ailis was determined to ignore them. There was no real chance of escaping the fortress of Rathmor, so she felt it would be foolish to brood. If a chance presented itself, she would grab it with both hands, but she would not allow herself to fret over her captivity. She knew all too well that it could be a great deal worse than it was.

“Are ye feeling all right, mistress?” Jaime asked as he finally stepped up to her side.

“Aye. He didna hurt me save in spirit mayhaps.” She paused, then realized that, if there was one person she could be fully honest with, it was Jaime. “There was no chance of my stopping what has happened. None at all. Kenning that, I put up no fight, my friend. Fighting would have gained me naught but pain. In truth, I enjoyed myself, for he is such a beautiful man, and all I could think of was that, after this, came Donald MacCordy.”

Jaime nodded slowly. “Aye, that was best, I think.”

“Well, that makes me feel a great deal better.” She clasped his hand as they walked.

“Mayhaps MacCordy willna wed ye now.”

“Nay, he will certainly be furious that I have lost the chastity he so prized. Aye, and more so because of who stole it. However, he will still wed me. MacCordy craves my dowry and the firm alliance such a marriage will gain him.” She shrugged. “I have resigned myself to these facts. ‘Tis a fate I canna avoid.” She heartily wished that was not so, but she had yet to see how her fate could be changed.

“Then ye enjoy yourself, mistress,” Jaime said, “and dinna think poorly of yourself as ye do. Ye deserve some frolic ere your wedding day. I dinna think there will be the cause or the heart for frolicking after ye have been given over to Donald MacCordy.”

“ ‘Tis how I think on it, m’friend.” She watched as the children hurried to greet Barra, who was just coming out of the keep and walking their way. “At least I have seen the MacCordys denied the children.” Despite the pain of losing them herself, she was glad of that.

“Do ye think they meant to use them?”

“Aye, Jaime, I am fair certain of it. I thought Donald was granting me some favor when he said I could keep Mairi’s bairns at my side. But Donald MacCordy does no one a favor. I should have kenned that from the first. Donald kenned who Mairi’s lover was and whose children they were and sought to gain them through marriage. He meant to use them to hurt the MacDubhs and to gain either wealth or land. He canna do that now.” She sighed. “It sore grieves me to lose them, but they are better off here with their true father, a man who clearly adores them. Here the bairns will ken naught but kindness, love, and guidance. With me, where I must go, they willna have any of that.” That thought helped ease some of her pain.

“Aye, the bairns will be happiest here. Ah, their father means to play a little ball with them.”

“I had best join in so that poor Sibeal doesna feel too alone.”

Jaime grinned as she skipped off to join Barra and the children in a game of ball. Ailis could be as rough-and-tumble as the boys. When Barra gently scolded his sons for tumbling their aunt in the dust, Jaime laughed, for Barra had barely finished the lecture when Ailis tumbled him and raced off with the ball. Little Sibeal did her best to try and run interference for Ailis as the twins and Barra tried to reclaim the ball. It did not take long before Barra realized that treating Ailis like a lady would only give her an advantage she made swift use of. Jaime roared with laughter every time Barra succumbed to his gentlemanly instincts and upbringing, for it never failed to cost the man.

The game grew in size as other children, youths, and even a few men drifted over to join the game. Jaime soon found himself one of a large crowd who were not shy about yelling out encouragement or derision. Although it looked like a melee, Jaime knew there were rules, and he could see teams taking shape. He did begin to wonder if it was growing too rowdy for Ailis and Sibeal, however. He saw Alexander enter the bailey and decided to let the Laird of Rathmor decide.

Alexander was starting toward the stables, intending to go for a ride through his fields, when he stopped and gaped. It was not the game nor the lack of work being accomplished that caused his amazement. He was stunned by the sight of a small, lithe figure with a long raven braid disappearing beneath a pile of boys. Even as he strode toward the crowd encircling the player, Angus at his heels, Ailis was back on her feet. Yet again she was in possession of the ball and running with it. He fleetingly wondered if putting her into a lad’s attire had helped lead to this activity.

“What in God’s sweet name is the lass doing?” he demanded when he reached Jaime’s side.

“Playing ball,” Jaime answered, then bellowed, “Run with it, Ailis. There’s a lass!”

“She is very good,” Angus murmured. He earned a glare from Alexander. “Well, she is. Bad temper doesna change fact.”

“Angus, just because she is dressed as a lad doesna mean she must act like one,” Alexander scolded his cousin.

“She likes to play ball,” Jaime protested. “She likes playing with the children. They need someone to play with, and Ailis was the only one.”

The urge to immediately yank Ailis out of the rough game was strong, and Alexander gritted his teeth as he fought it. He stood for a while as part of the audience and soon had to concede, albeit reluctantly, that she was good. Her small stature combined with an admirable speed made her a worthy player. This was clearly not a new game for her. It was all the bruising her delicate figure was enduring that made him wince. He could not believe that such a tiny female could endure such a physical game. She would easily be seriously injured.

A moment later he watched his fears realized. The game came to an abrupt halt when Ailis was brought down but did not rise as she had each time before. Alexander raced to Ailis’s side, telling himself that the panic he felt was over the possibility of losing her services in his bed. He did not wish to give up that particular delight until he was forced to.

He knelt at her side and quickly checked for any broken bones. When he found none, he partly raised her up in his arms. Although he could feel no wound upon her head, it eased his concern only a little.

“She should rouse in a wee bit, sir,” Jaime said as he leaned over Ailis, but there was a hint of fear on his face.

Sibeal nudged in beside Jaime and patted his arm. “Dinna worry, Aunt will be fine,” she said in a voice strong with conviction.

Jaime sighed and smiled. “Good.”

Alexander almost told Jaime not to be a fool, that a child could not guess at Ailis’s health, but bit back his words. There was probably no sense in trying to explain it to the man. He had a more immediate problem anyway.

“Get me some water to splash on her face,” he ordered, hoping that might rouse her.

Manus and Rath did not hesitate. They raced off and returned an instant later with a bucket brimming with water, their clothes damp from carrying it. Before Alexander fully realized what the twins intended to do and could stop them, they poured the bucket full of water over Ailis splashing him, too. For a moment Alexander sat there in the mud, speechless and dripping, as everyone around him struggled valiantly against laughter.

“I wanted to splash a bit of water on her face, not drown her,” he finally snapped at his nephews.

“Oh. But it worked, sir,” Manus said and pointed at Ailis. “See, she wakes.”

Ailis sputtered awake. She looked around her groggily. Her first clear thought was to wonder why she was all wet and lying in an equally wet Alexander’s arms. She could feel dampness seeping through her hose to her backside and wondered why they were sitting in a puddle. Then, suddenly, she recalled the game and sat up a little straighter.

“Did we win?” she demanded.

After gaping at the muddy woman in his arms, Alexander replied in a choked voice, “I would say it is a draw.” He burst out laughing, and the others quickly joined in.