Devil in a Kilt by Sue-Ellen Welfonder

Chapter 34

Tears pricked the backs of Linnet’s eyes, but she blinked them away. From somewhere behind her, footsteps approached, then a man cleared his throat as he neared the alcove where she and Duncan stood in the shadows.

“Your lady’s maidservant and the boy are settled in your bedchamber, the fire stoked,” the Sassunach told her husband. “Red James and Thomas guard the door. By your leave, I shall see who Fergus has sent to the battlements.”

“Aye, go. I’ll join you shortly,” Duncan said, stepping forward but keeping her in the shelter of the deep wall embrasure with a firm hand to her elbow.

From outside the alcove, Sir Marmaduke peered at her as if he meant to say something, but he must’ve decided otherwise, for he gave Duncan a brisk nod, then left them alone.

The moment he disappeared, his footsteps soon echoing from the turret stairs, Duncan turned back to her. He, too, peered at her strangely, but unlike the look Sir Marmaduke had given her, this look sent heat coursing through her and made her feel as if she’d soon melt into a puddle at her husband’s feet.

Without a word, he drew her tight against him. Her hands splayed against the solid wall of his chest, the hard coils of his black mail shirt pressing into her palms. Crooking his fingers under her chin, he lifted her head, forcing her to look at him. The desire in his eyes ignited an equal fire deep inside her.

Still silent, the passion in his eyes all the words he needed, he brought his mouth dangerously close to hers. “I’d meant to spend these hours in your arms, loving you,” he said, his each word sending a whisper of warm breath over her lips, “but I cannae pleasure you as I want to do when others share our bedchamber.”

“No, you cannot.” Linnet raised her hand, placing it gently upon his jaw. He drew in a sharp breath at her touch, as if she’d scorched him. Then he slowly turned his head and pressed a light kiss into her hand. She sighed, her knees almost going out on her when he began flicking the tip of his tongue back and forth across the tender skin of her palm.

“Aye, lass,” he vowed, his voice roughened. “I burn with need for you, but a kiss must suffice for I dare not delay in joining Marmaduke on the battlements.”

“Will you be long?” Linnet almost did not recognize her own voice, so breathless were her words. “Shall I await you here?”

He seemed to consider, but then shook his head. “Nae, I will not return this way. It is best I bed down in the hall with my men.”

“Must you? Can you not sleep in our chamber? The others will surely be deep in slumber by the time you return, they will not disturb us,” she coaxed, emboldened by the hunger he stirred within her.

Of a sudden, she wanted more than just his kisses, blissfully forgetful of the dangers lurking so near. And willing herself blind to the pained look she’d seen pass quickly over his face when she’d mentioned Elspeth and Robbie. “Please,” she tried again, melting against him, her skin tingling in anticipation of his touch. “Please reconsider. I do not want to be without you.”

“And you tempt me beyond all bounds,” he said, lowering his lips to hers. He slanted his mouth over hers in a fierce kiss, claiming her lips, her passion, her very soul, in a way she could no longer deny.

She opened her mouth beneath his, inviting the sensual sweep of his tongue against hers. Desire flared inside her, a raging, all-encompassing fire.

An unquenchable need.

An unbearably sweet ache.

“Saints, but I burn for you,” he breathed, moving his lips over her face, neck, and shoulders. With the tip of his tongue, he licked at the sensitive skin beneath her ear, then gently nipped his way up and down the curve of her neck.

The place between Linnet’s thighs began to throb with a heavy, tingling warmth she could scarce endure, so intensely pleasurable was the sensation.

“Precious lass, did I not know better, I’d swear you’ve cast an enchantment over me,” Duncan vowed, threading his fingers through the unbound mass of her hair. He lifted great handfuls to his face and breathed deep as if he meant to savor the essence of her tresses. Of her. Letting go of her hair, he smoothed his hands over her shoulders, easing down her still-unfastened cloak until it pooled at her waist.

Chill air washed over the heated skin he’d bared, passing without resistance through the thin barrier of her linen kirtle to caress her as enticingly as if unseen hands would ply her nakedness, tease and taunt her with a deliciously cool and smooth length of finest silk.

“Touch me,” she whispered, and he obliged, closing his hands over her breasts. He kneaded them, gently at first, then in a more bold manner, rubbing and plucking at her nipples through the linen of her gown until they hardened beneath his fingers and her entire body quivered with sheer pleasure.

Lowering his hands to her hips, he pulled her close against him. Before Linnet could release a single sigh of contentment, he hoisted up her skirts and slipped one hand between her thighs.

“You are soft as an angel’s sigh, lass,” he murmured into her hair, while his fingers caressed the silken heat of her most private place.

With a sharp intake of breath, he stilled the gentle questing of his fingers and simply cupped her, pressing his hand firmly against her woman’s flesh. Then he began moving his palm over her in a slow, circular motion. A floodtide of exquisite tingles washed over her there, while a spiral of pulsing excitement whirled inside her, threatening to spin out of control and shatter any moment.

As if a score of the devil’s own mischief-makers spurred him on, Duncan used his fingers again, simply stroking her at first, then softly stroking her nether curls as if he had all night to pleasure her.

But he didn’t, so when she gave a sweet sigh and arched herself against his hand, he moved a single finger, his middle one, over the tight little bud of her sex – and rubbed.

Her eyes widened and her musky, woman’s scent rose up to swirl around them. “This is passion,” he told her, his voice husky with his own raging ardor, his senses set afire by the stirring scent of her desire.

With his free hand, he took one of hers and pressed it hard against his rigid length. “When this madness with Kenneth has found an end, I shall keep you abed for seven days and seven nights.

“I shall love you until you beg me to cease.” He watched her carefully as he spoke, waiting for the instant her eyes would grow heavy-lidded with wanting him. When the moment came, he increased the pressure, moving his finger in an ever-faster circle over her need until she sagged against him, trembling, her breath leaving her in one long, shaky gasp.

“Merciful saints,” she gasped, clinging to him.

“Nae, my lady, I vow such pleasures are more of a devilish nature,” he said, withdrawing his hand and letting her gown drop back into place. “Keep yourself safe while I am gone. There is much more of passion I would teach you, but I cannot if you are not here to learn.” Pausing, he cast a glance down the passage toward their bedchamber, the two guards at the door. “Nor is suchlike wise when others are so near.” He cupped her chin, leaned in to kiss her lightly. “Do not even think to attempt anything foolhardy in my absence, or I shall be greatly fashed upon my return.”

He started to kiss her again, this time on her brow, but in that moment, commotion could be heard on the ramparts above. He drew back from her, his handsome face gone pale.

“What is it?” Unable to bear the way he stared at her, Linnet took hold of his arms and clung to him, refusing to let him brush her aside. His expression frightened her, for he stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. It was almost as if he’d just discovered he’d been dallying with the bride of Lucifer and not his own lady wife who deeply cared for him.

“Please … please do not look at me that way,” she implored him, wishing she had the courage to voice her true feelings, beseech him to stop punishing her for another woman’s sins.

IfLady Cassandra was the reason for his stony-faced expression.

She wanted to beg him, no, urge him, to fight his inner demons as bravely as he would face his physical foes, plead with him to seek not only the quenching of their bodily needs, but those deeper still as well.

The most important needs, the needs of their hearts.

* * *

But Linnet remained silent,the closed look on his face turning any any words of protest she might dare utter to dust before she could even form them coherently in her mind, much less give voice to them.

Shifting uncomfortably under his fierce perusal, she drew her mantle up over her exposed shoulders.

“I must leave you now.” He reached out to adjust the woolen cloak for her. “Go to your chamber and heed my words. We’ve tarried here overlong. I’ve much on my mind and shouldn’t have given in to my baser desires.”

His words doused whatever longing still lingered within her as surely as if he’d tossed her into the icy waters of Loch Duich.

Baser desires?

Linnet bristled. “Am I but a vessel to you, my husband? Do you see in me only a means to take your manly ease when the lust to do so overcomes you? Am I am burden to be borne, a wife to feed and clothe, but not care about the rest of the time?”

By the Rood! Duncan frowned. Did she not know the sounds of his warriors manning the walls had filled him with dread at the possibility of harm being done to her? Did she not realize he’d pulled away from her because he was appalled at himself?

Shocked to the core he could think of lust while a score of his people lay slain and maimed, awaiting his vengeance?

Had she so quickly forgotten the tenderness he’d bestowed upon her while she’d recovered from the disturbing vision she’d had in his former solar?

“Think you truly I care naught for you?” he asked, unable to keep the accusing tone from his voice. “That I almost lay with you here, upon the stone floor, without even the comfort of strewn rushes, because I need a ‘vessel’ to slake my manly needs?”

To his dismay, she nodded.

“God’s bones!” he roared, too angry to care if all under his roof heard him. “I vow you have held your hands o’er your ears each time I’ve told you I am not good with words. I am a man of deeds, not pretty speeches. I belong up on the wall walk with Marmaduke, not standing here feeling sick at the thought of harm coming to you.”

He paused to catch his breath. “For one blessed with a gift such as yours, ‘tis beyond belief how much you miss. Do you not know I kissed and touched you to banish the horrors of this day from my mind? So I could take sweet memories of you with me when I ride out of here?” He caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “And do you know why?”

The stubborn vixen shook her head again.

He opened his mouth to tell her it was because he cared, but the words lodged in his throat. She might mistake caring with loving.

And he did not love her.

He loved no one.

An uncomfortable silence settled over them, and to escape it, Duncan pulled a two-edged dagger from a leather sheath attached to his belt. “Red James and Thomas will be on guard outside your door,” he said, handing her the knife. “Give this to Thomas for he is yet unarmed. Tell both men not to give entry to any save myself, Marmaduke, or Fergus.”

She stiffened visibly, but took the blade. “You think we are in danger of being attacked?”

“Nae. None but a fool would attempt a raid against these walls. Kenneth is many things, but not a fool.”

“Then why such precautions?”

“Because,” he said, trailing his knuckles down her cheek, “no one but a fool would not assure his loved ones’ safety when trouble, real or imagined, is near. And I am even less a fool than my bastard half-brother. Red James is one of my best guardsmen and a demon with a sword, but no man is invincible. Thomas wields a mean dirk when he must. Mine is longer and sharper than his. I would leave knowing you are as well protected as possible.”

Turning away from her, lest he be tempted to reveal further sentiments best kept to himself, he made to march up the turret stairs to join Marmaduke, but his lady wife rushed after him.

“Wait, please,” she called, sounding flustered.

“Aye?” He stopped on the third step, but didn’t turn around.

“Does Robbie count as one of your ‘loved ones?” she asked, taking him by surprise.

Once more, the gruesome image of the wee lad, pale and lifeless as he knew his crofters’ bairns to be, flashed before his mind’s eye. The very thought turned his blood cold, made his innards quake and his hands tremble.

God’s mercy, he’d said his loved ones. Wasn’t it enough to have spoken the words? Couldn’t she hear the truth when he’d fair bellowed it at her?

He would not voice the sentiment again.

Not when he wasn’t prepared to accept the words his lips had blurted almost of their own accord and before he’d even realized he’d spoken them. Now, he heard her come up behind him, felt her place a hand on the back of his arm.

“Is he?” Her voice was eager, expectant. “Are you telling me you do care about the boy?”

“Is he my son?” Duncan asked, the turmoil inside him finding release in the quickly spoken words.

“Would it matter?”

Kenneth’s face, so like his own but marred by a gloating sneer, chased the sickening image of Robbie, his small body bloodied and twisted, from Duncan’s mind.

“Aye, it matters,” he said, hating the way his stomach turned inside out at the lie. And hating himself more because he was too cowardly to admit, even to his own self, he did indeed care about the lad.

“Is he mine?” he demanded once more.

“I cannae say,” Linnet returned in a small voice, disappointment weighing heavily on each word.

Duncan stood, ramrod straight, holding his shoulders and neck so rigidly he might as well been carved of stone. He would not turn around, would not let her see the pain he knew had to be mirrored in his eyes.

After what seemed an eternity, she took her hand off his arm and walked away. He waited until he heard her repeat his instructions to young Thomas and Red James outside her door, then he trudged the rest of the way up the stone steps to the battlements.

Bile rose in his throat.

Had he truly claimed he was not a fool?