His Captive, His Conquest by Ashe Barker
Chapter Fifteen
Flora sat at the window, her baby on her lap. The crisp, spring morning was bright. Elborne was alive with activity.
The meadows were already being planted with the crops needed to see them through the next winter. Livestock had been turned out to pasture. Stephen and his brother had led a party of men out on a hunting trip. With luck, they would have venison to eat later, or maybe roast boar.
She turned when the door behind her opened, and Katherine came in.
“Ah, you are up and about, then.”
“Yes. I was thinking I might come downstairs today. Just for a short while.”
“That is an excellent idea. Shall I help you to dress?”
“Yes please, but I believe you would need to lend me something to wear, since all of my clothing was left behind at St Mary’s”
“Of course. I shall bring you something suitable. I am quite sure Stephen would go to the abbey to retrieve your possessions, should you ask him.”
Flora shook her head. “I do not want him to return there. He has threatened to burn the place down.”
“No more than they deserve, but I expect you are right. We should leave justice to the Lord. I have a very nice yellow tunic which will fit you nicely.”
Flora made herself comfortable on the settle close to the enormous hearth. Alister slept peacefully in her arms, and Frances sat opposite her, her own little girl perching upon her lap. The two older children, the twins, romped about on the floor between them.
Katherine joined them and brought with her a tray upon which she had balanced a jug of wine and four goblets. “I thought we might welcome some refreshment. Matilda will be along soon.”
“Oh? Is she back?” Mattie had returned to Byrness to visit her husband and the child she had left behind there when she had joined Flora at the abbey. “Perhaps Charlie will be with her.”
“Yes. She arrived just a few minutes ago,” Katherine replied. “Who is Charlie?”
“Charles, her husband,” Flora clarified. “Another of my cousins. Or her son. He is named for his father and will be just a year old by now.”
“It would be pleasant to have another little one at Elborne,” Frances observed. “Ah, here she is now.”
Mattie joined them, also balancing a baby on her hip. She sat next to Frances, accepted her goblet of wine, then passed Charlie to Katherine who insisted upon getting to know him.
“What news? Is Charles with you?” Flora was eager to hear of affairs among her kin.
Mattie shook her head. “I do not know where Charles is. He was not at Byrness, and neither is he at Roxburghe. No one has heard from him for several weeks, now. Charlie had been left in the care of his aunt. I hope you do not mind me bringing him to Elborne with me, Lady Katherine. I have missed him so much these past months. My husband, also. I have not seen either of them since before Christmas.”
“Your baby is welcome here. And you are, also. Did you leave word of your whereabouts, for when your husband returns?”
“I did.” She sipped nervously from her goblet. “I hope he is well. These are such volatile times, and Charles has not endeared himself to Angus because of his support for Flora. I expect he has decided to make himself scarce for a while.”
“Hmm.” Flora was not convinced. Charles MacKinnon was not a man known for making himself scarce in the face of trouble. “Perhaps I should speak with Angus…”
“No!” Mattie blurted. “You must not go to Roxburghe. Angus is livid that you have sought sanctuary in England. He is threatening to raise the clan and march on Elborne to take you back.”
“Back where? To St Mary’s Abbey?”
“I am not sure. It is never especially clear to me what Angus’s goals might be.”
Frances gave an un-duchess-like snort. “If he attacks us here, he will regret it. My husband and the marquis will soon see him off.” Frances’s lips tightened. “Are there no rational men in the entire MacKinnon clan, Flora?”
“Well, there is Charles, of course. And my brother, but he is in France and not expected to return for some time.”
“Thank goodness that you are safe, at least.” Katherine refilled all of their goblets. “Elborne is your home now.”
Flora shook her head. “I cannot stay here. It is not right. I cannot wed without my father’s consent. All will assume I am Stephen’s mistress.”
“Does it matter what people think? Or, if it does matter to you, why not marry in secret and deal with the complexities later.” Frances shrugged. “I am sure it will all work out in the end. These things often do. King Henry will not be pleased at first, but he likes Stephen, and he needs his support. My husband, also. They will manage to placate him eventually.”
“Perhaps.” Flora lacked the duchess’s optimism. “But in the meantime,” she turned to Katherine, “for the sake of appearances I have decided I should not remain in Stephen’s chamber. Is there another room I might use?”
“Of course. There is a spare chamber directly above. I will have it cleaned and prepared for you.”
“Thank you.” She set her goblet down. “I wonder, would anyone mind if I were to go back upstairs. I think I would like to lie down.”
“It is our fault. We have overtired you.” Katherine stood and passed baby Charlie back to his mother. “Let me take Alister for you.”
“What is this madness? You are not moving to another chamber. I forbid it.”
Flora dragged her gaze from the window where she had been observing the comings and goings in the bailey below, one of her favourite ways to pass the time. Stephen slammed the door behind him and proceeded to glower at her.
“A good afternoon to you, too, my lord.” Her tone was deceptively honeyed. Flora tipped up her chin to return his arrogant glare. “I beg your pardon. I believe I must have misheard you. I could have sworn you told me that you forbid me to take up residence in the chamber above this one?”
“Yes. You are staying here. With me.”
“I think not.” She kissed Alister’s plump cheek, then passed the baby to Mattie who had been seated beside her enjoying the quiet of the late afternoon. “Please would you take him for a short while. The marquis and I need some time alone.”
Mattie was clearly delighted to be excused. She hurried from the chamber, Alister in her arms. Flora waited until the door closed behind her friend, then rounded on the high-handed Englishman who thought to order her about as though she had no mind of her own.
“I am not your captive now, my lord. Unless you wish to suggest otherwise.” She arched a brow at him.
“Do not be ridiculous. Of course, you are not a prisoner.”
“I fear that it is you who appears to have misunderstood our situation, not I. I am an earl’s daughter, and it is not seemly that I should remain in your chamber, sharing your bed. Katherine appreciates the awkwardness of the situation and has graciously agreed to make other accommodation available to me.”
“This has nothing to do with Katherine. You belong here. With me.”
Flora continued to meet his gaze. She was a MacKinnon, daughter to The MacKinnon. Her pride was at stake, and there would be no backing down, regardless of this obstinate man’s determination to have his way. She could be every bit as stubborn.
“And what do you mean to do about it, my lord? Take a switch to me again?”
“Of course not.” He began to pace the room. “You are barely out of childbed.”
“I am quite recovered, thanks to your timely intervention and to the diligent ministrations of the women of this house.”
“And I am glad of it. Even so, I have no intention of beating you into submission. Not this time.”
“Doubtless I should be glad of that small mercy. I note there was no mention of the spare chamber above this one on the last occasion I found myself here with you.”
“That was different.”
“Indeed. I was a captive then. Helpless, and afraid. You treated me very harshly.”
“Did I? I seem to recall you enjoyed at least some of our time together. I know I did.”
Flora’s temper flared. How dare he speak to her thus?
“You are an unchivalrous, uncouth oaf, my lord, and your memory is somewhat selective. Mine is not, and I would like you to leave now and allow me to continue with my preparations for moving to my own chamber.”
“And I would like you to remove your clothes and spread your legs for me.”
“Stephen!” She glared at him, outraged. “Must you always be quite so crude?”
He shrugged. “’Tis only around you, little Scot. You bring out the worst in me.” He advanced towards her.
Flora backed off. She had goaded him too far. She realised her error, but too late. “Please, Stephen, do not do this. We should talk…”
“We have talked, but you still seem bent on this nonsense. If I cannot convince you to stay by the power of my words, and I have already ruled out a switching, then I find myself obliged to employ other means.”
“Stephen, I—”
She made a dash for the door, but he was closer. And quicker. He seized her about the waist, lifted her bodily from the floor, and propelled the pair of them onto the bed.
“Let me go. I shall scream…”
He pinned her to the mattress, taking both her wrists in one hand and securing them above her head. She opened her mouth to yell for help, but he dealt with that inconvenience by covering her lips with his.
Her struggles ceased in that instant. The familiar rush of desire flooded her, surging from her core to engulf her senses, sweeping away all resistance. All sense, all reason, evaporated.
He broke the kiss to eye her with caution. “Flora?”
“What, my lord?”
“I spoke in anger just now. I do not wish to hurt you. I would never…”
“I know, my lord. I want you. I want this…”
“You are still fragile. From the birth, and your illness.”
She shook her head. “I am quite recovered.”
“No, you are not, though you will be, soon. But I have something else in mind. I recall you always appreciated this…” He reached down, grasped the hem of her tunic and undershirt, and drew the garments to her waist.
Flora closed her eyes and remained motionless while he gazed at her. Surely, her body must be less alluring now, after Alister…
“So beautiful,” he breathed. “You are mine, Flora. You know that.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yours.”
He lowered his forehead to rest upon hers. “I want no one else. I will have no one else. Whether you are my wife or not, there is only you.”
“Yes. Yes, please, Stephen…”
He kissed her mouth, then, “Open for me, sweetheart.”
She required no further urging. Flora bent her knees and allowed them to fall to each side.
“Wider,” he urged.
She hastened to obey, placing her feet as far apart as she could, then she gasped when he traced the shape of her cunny lips with his fingertip.
“If I hurt you, you will tell me.”
“You will not hurt me, Stephen.” She was sure of it. “You have never hurt me. Not really.”
He sent her a crooked, sensuous smile. “I am glad to hear that. But there are other ways I can make you scream.”
His tongue was soft. He lapped at her cunny lips, licking away her juices and using the tip to flick her sensitive little nubbin while she writhed against the mattress. He was obliged to sling an arm across her waist to hold her still while he made a point of his tongue and drove it deep inside her.
“Oh, dear Lord…” she panted, grasping his hair with both her hands. “That feels so good. I… ooh!”
The climax was swift, sudden, almost brutal in its intensity. Sensation swelled from deep within her core to overwhelm her in moments. When the waves of ecstasy ebbed, Flora sprawled beneath him, panting, limp as a doll made of rags.
“That was… unexpected,” she managed, eventually.
He gathered her in his arms. “Was it persuasive, though?”
“I…”
“Stay. Please.”
“You had only to ask me, I think. There is nothing I would not do for you. You must know that. I love you, my lord marquis.”
“I love you, too, Flora MacKinnon. And, whatever ructions it might stir up, I mean to wed you. I shall send word to Roxburghe Castle. And to the king in Westminster.”
She rolled to her side to look up at him. “Please, not yet. From what Mattie has been told, my father is already very distressed by his illness. I would not wish to make things worse. Really, I should return to nurse him, but—”
“Please do not provoke me into once more resorting to… what did you call me? An unchivalrous, uncouth oaf? You know that I cannot permit you to return to Roxburghe. You may not be safe there, and I am quite sure Alister would not be.”
“I do know that, and you are right. But still, I wish matters were different, that our families might arrive at some sort of accord.”
“Perhaps, in time…”
“Frances has suggested that we should wed in secret and resolve the… the niceties later.”
He chuckled. “Frances was ever an impetuous soul, but I believe her notion has merit. King Henry would resign himself to the situation, eventually. And he could still marry Katherine off to some other northern lord.”
“She should have some say in the matter, surely. Among the clans, we would never compel a woman to wed a man not of her choosing.”
“Perhaps not, but from what I have seen of your clan’s treatment of their women—”
“It would not usually have been so. Had my brother not been abroad…”
He kissed her mouth. “I apologise. I meant no disrespect. But the more I consider it, the more I find myself drawn to Her Grace’s suggestion. Shall I send word to Father Ambrose and have him meet us at the doors to the church?”
Flora hesitated, then, “Yes. But not yet. Soon, though. And we must do it alone. It would not be right to ask others to witness the marriage and thus incur the wrath of your Henry or my own clan.”
“I doubt I could keep my brother and his wife away if I tried. Katherine, too, would not forgive me if she were denied the opportunity to dance at my wedding. It will be a small affair, very private, but not secret.”
“Very well, if that is your wish.”
“It is. And we shall wait for a while if you so desire, but we must wed before Richard and his rowdy tribe return to Devon.”
“How much longer will they remain at Elborne?”
“A few weeks, unless he is summoned by Henry to attend him at court sooner.”
Flora rolled onto her back to gaze up at the canopy over the bed. They had not much time, and really, what was there to wait for?
“One month,” she declared. “We shall be wed one month from this day. By then, I shall be fully healed and able to… well…”
He cupped her chin in his palm. “Weather a decent fucking? Is that what you were trying so eloquently to say?”
“You are being crude again, my lord.”
“But am I wrong?”
“No. That is precisely what I meant.”