Beauty and The Highlander (5 page)

Chapter Eleven

Analise made her way down the corridor and a
stairwell. Going past several doors she became disoriented, as she'd never been
in this part of the house. Upon hearing voices she went in the direction of
where two people held conversation.

"There is nothing they can do," a woman
hissed. "Distract them so I can go back in and see about administering
more."

"If you're caught, I will not help you," a
male whispered back. "I say we give it a few days."

"He may get better," the woman said.

Analise stumbled back and ran the way she came
ensuring to not make any noise. Her breath came in rasps when she bolted into
the bedroom and Carrick's eyebrows rose. She went to him and took his hand.
"I can't find my way to the kitchens."

"I will go with you."

"No. We must not leave him alone. You have to get
someone to guard him every instant."

Carrick who remained by his father's bed scowled but
nodded in response. Just then the door opened and Moraine, the laird's wife
entered. "If you would like to rest, I will keep watch over my
husband." She lowered her eyes not meeting theirs. "He mostly sleeps
now."

Analise replied, "On the contrary, I came to help
so you can rest. I will stay here tonight. Why don't you lay down, you must be
exhausted."

Unable to form a response, Moraine looked past her to
where the laird slept and nodded. "Very well. But I will be here early in
the morning to see about him." She lingered a few moments, never nearing
the bed and finally moved to the doorway. Analise took advantage of the
opportunity. "I will go with you while Carrick remains. I must speak to
Cook. You see I am well versed in curing and have some ideas of certain herbs
that may help." She continued chatting as they made their way to the first
level. All the while Moraine remained rigid, replying in noncommittal grunts
and nods. They'd made it down a second corridor when Moraine stopped and pushed
Analise against the wall holding her by the shoulders.

The woman's breath fanned across her face. "You
do not understand, nor do you know what happens within this clan. Do not think
you can just walk in and usurp me." Gone was the meek woman from before.
Moraine 's eyes darkened and her lips pinched, giving her a mad appearance.
"I am the laird's wife. I will be the one to care for him, not you nor
Carrick."

"And poison him all the while?" Analise
shoved her away. "Is that why you are so adamant?"

Her eyes widened and the woman's fingers clenched at
her sides. "How dare you?"

"I dare because I know he is poisoned."
Analise bowed her head to feign difference. "If I offend you, milady, I
apologize, but you should be made aware."

Moraine let out a breath, she lifted her chin and
looked down her nose at Analise. "I will inquire with Declan. Have the
entire kitchen staff questioned." With that she lifted her skirts and went
in the direction of the great room.

Analise considered if she should go back and speak to
Carrick, but decided instead to go to the kitchens. Once there, she oversaw the
preparation of three meals and followed the lads to the chambers on the second
floor. She helped the laird eat and drink then she and Carrick ate.

"I spoke to Moraine and perhaps
overstepped." Analise placed a pillow behind the laird's head.

"What happened?" Carrick neared, his eyes on
his father who slept again.

"She confronted me and said she was to be the one
to oversee your father's meals. I then responded that I believed he was being
poisoned."

"Do not fret. She should be made aware." He
placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her to face him. "I thank you for
all this." Carrick motioned to his father's bed. His eyes lingered on her
lips and she hoped he'd kiss her, but instead he stepped back. "You should
rest, it's been a long day for you."

One of Carrick's men arrived and stood inside the door
to stand guard for the night. "Milord, you should rest as well."

They walked side by side, Carrick guiding her to their
chamber, as she was still not sure how to find it. Once inside she was delighted
to find that Erin had ordered a bath for her. She stepped near and dipped her
fingers into the fragrant water, it was still quite warm. "Would you like
to join me?"

Carrick looked first to the tub then to her, his eyes
traveling from her face down her body. "Aye, I would." His simple
words made her heartbeat quicken, relief at not being rebuked turned into
confusion as to what to do next.

Her husband neared and placed a hand on the small of
her back to bring her closer. His lips covered hers and she fell against him
with relief, her hand automatically sliding up and down his back. The muscles
rippled when she slipped under his tunic to caress the expanse of his back.

Clothing puddled at their feet as one by one they
discarded the obstacles between their bodies. Carrick lifted and placed her
inside the tub then followed. The evidence of his arousal jutted long and hard.
With both hands, he cupped her face and took her mouth once again. "I will
bathe you." His voice was hoarse and sent deep tingles of anticipation
through her. "Will you remain standing for me?"

"Yes."

The water splashed over the sides when he lowered into
the water. Carrick's long lashes covered whatever he thought. Her breath caught
when he lifted his eyes. "Do not move." Analise watched as his wet
hands slid up her legs to in-between her thighs. He washed her with care. All
the while she trembled in anticipation of what could happen next.

Her knees trembled when he splayed her open and leaned
forward, his mouth kissing where his hands had been, his fingers flickering
over her swollen nub. "Carrick." Her mutterings went on while his
wicked hands did things to her she'd never imagined. Finally, unable to stand
it any longer, she let out a cry and allowed her knees to collapse. Carrick
pulled her against him and took her mouth. He lifted her and impaled her onto
his engorged cock. Analise clutched onto his shoulders allowing him to control
the pace of their joining.

They moved together in frantic lovemaking until he
thrust hard once more and came, his deep moan echoing in her ear. They remained
connected as he began to work the soap over her skin. She leaned against his
chest, enjoying their closeness. The feel of his thick throat against her cheek
brought her comfort, safety. When she was clean, he allowed her to wash his
back and hair.

"Allow me." Analise climbed out to gather
the pictures of clean water and poured it over Carrick to rinse him. Then she
stood while he did the same to her.

Wrapped in drying cloths, they sat by the fireplace.
Ever thoughtful, Erin had left bread and wine for them. While they ate, Analise
racked her brain of something to say to him. She wanted to ask so many
questions. Understand him. Know his thoughts.

"Carrick. Why do you not live here?"

His noncommittal shrug made her want to shake him.
Instead, she waited for him to speak. "I am not like Father and Declan. I
find I prefer life away from all that. You see, now my father is poisoned. The
life of a laird can be perilous. Once one rises to power, people want your position."

"I am sure there are good things about it."
Her eyes lingered on his chest as the towel slipped to land around his waist.

"Aye, if given the opportunity, there are many
things I would like to change."

Analise frowned. "Why would you not have the
opportunity? You are the next in line as your father's first born."

"If whoever is attempting to kill my father
doesn't poison me first." The corner of his mouth lifted at his words. It
was almost as if he cared little for his own life.

"I hope not." Analise startled at a knock on
the door.

Erin opened the door and looked to them. "Milord.
Milady. I came to see about the bath being removed."

"Of course," Carrick replied, not seeming at
all bothered by his nudity.

She on the other hand was not so bold and rushed to
wrap a dressing gown around herself. The lads entered and went about emptying
the tub and taking it out.

Once they were alone again, she found Carrick standing
by the fireplace. He contemplated the flames with severe intensity. She was no
longer in the room with him, it was evident his thoughts were somewhere else.
Analise went to the bed and slid under the covers. Perhaps one day she'd
understand her husband better. If she was blessed with a child, she yearned for
closeness between them so their son or daughter would be raised in a loving and
caring family.

The bed dipped under his weight and she turned to find
him on his side toward her.

Analise reached for his face, to cup his jaw, but he
angled it away so she'd not touch the scar. "I want to touch all of you.
Kiss all of you."

"Why?" Brows furrowed and mouth in a
straight line, he was genuinely curious. "You are already my wife. The
wife of the future laird. You have nothing more to gain by doing something unpleasant."

"What if I wish to gain your caring?" She
sat up and glared down at him. "What if I want more?"

Carrick pulled her to him and rolled, covering her
with his heavier body. "Be mine again." His tongue pushed into her
mouth at the same time his cock prodded at her entrance. She reached between
them and curled her fingers around it. When he bucked into her hand, she
squeezed it and worked her hand from the tip to the base over and over. His
hips moved in the opposite direction creating a rhythm he found more suitable.
His neck muscles stood out in contrast to the smooth surrounding skin as she
continued to pleasure her husband.

"Let me inside you," he grunted and held
still when she guided him. "Ah." He slid into her and took her by the
hips lifting her bottom from the bed. "Come with me, beauty."

Carrick released any semblance of control, his body
slamming against hers, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the
room. Analise threw her head back into the bed, her hands cupping his butt as
she tried to keep him seated deep within her.

His entire body glistened with the exertion of their
lovemaking and yet he continued. Drove in and out of her until once again she
cried out in release and then a second time. Finally, he could no longer
continue and thrust into her to the hilt, his shoulders and thighs quivering,
he spilled into her and collapsed.

 Analise kissed his temples and caressed his back
waiting for his breathing to become normal.

Moments later, he lifted, his now flaccid member
slipping from her. "I will need to bath again." He mumbled and kissed
her lips before rolling to his side and promptly falling asleep.

Chapter Twelve

Carrick didn't know who to trust. Who poisoned his
father? Were Declan and Moraine involved?

He thought back to the night before. Why had Analise
said those words? Did she really wish to gain his caring? He'd made love to her
not only because he desired her like no other, but also to avoid the
conversation. It would be too hard, false words would ruin the closeness he'd
felt between them.

The great room was deserted except for the lads who
cleaned up and a dog that ran around them in circles, its tail wagging. Carrick
motioned for one of the lads to come near. Miles, the dark haired lad who would
soon be ten and three neared. "Aye, milord?"

"Why are you two doing such chores here? This
household has more than enough staff."

Miles gave his brother a questioning look. "Me
brother, he asked for this chore, milord. He says ‘tis a good way to keep an
eye on what happens. Ensure you and your lady wife are kept from harm."

Nobody it seemed was at ease at Gordon keep. "I
thank both of ye then. Go and see about my horse and the lady's as well. Do not
overtax yourselves here."

"Aye, milord." The boy bowed and returned to
his job.

Declan entered and stopped short upon spotting him,
his eyes darting about the room. "I was looking for you." Lie.
"I wondered if we could speak regarding your wife's accusations."

"Ah, so Moraine told you?" Carrick motioned
forward a serving wench who entered. "I would like to break my fast. My
wife will be here shortly as well. Please inform Erin." He met the lighter
haired lad's gaze and the boy followed the wench to the kitchen.

Declan clapped and laughed. "You go to great
measures to insult this household. One, I might remind you, will be yours when
father dies."

 "I do not wish to insult the house, but it is
the inhabitants I do not trust." Carrick accepted a tankard brought back
by the lad and drank from it. "I suggest you take caution as well,
brother."

"What I don't understand," Declan sat on a
chair across from him, "is why you worry about father. You hate him."

"It is he who hates me." Carrick exhaled,
tired of the distance between him and his family. "He has always disliked
me and I gave up attempting to understand why. It is of no importance
now."

Declan chuckled. "He loved our mother and you
have the audacity to look exactly like her." His brother shrugged.
"But like you said it is of little importance."

He'd never known the reason for his father's hatred.
Why would his resemblance to the woman he loved garner him such feelings from
his own father? It made little sense, but then again what did it matter.

"Why would Moraine complain to you?" Carrick
waited while the lad returned with his breakfast. "Are you confidants or
more?"

Color rose from Declan's neck to his face. He leaned
forward with nostrils flared. "You hold yourself above reproach. The honorable
Carrick Gordon. Future laird." He stood and waved his arms. "Soon all
of this will be yours. As the firstborn whether rightfully or not, all of this
is yours. So now you feel free to look down upon me for what I do to gain
something?"

"You have known where you stand your entire life.
I do not understand why you are so bitter now." Carrick pushed his tankard
toward the lad for refilling. "Yes, I will be laird and you brother will
remain as my second if you wish. Unless I find you plan to kill me." Carrick
sat back in his chair channeling a nonchalance he didn't feel.

"If I wanted you dead, you would be by now."
Declan stopped talking when Analise walked in. She kept her head straight and
looked to Declan who gave her a curt nod. "Lady Gordon. I hear you have
come to some conclusions regarding Father."

"I have," Analise replied and lowered to the
chair beside him. Carrick wondered how much she'd overheard. By her impassive
expression it was hard to tell. "There is already noted improvement in
your father's visage this morning. His face has color."

Declan's eyes widened, but he quickly gained his
composure. "I will go see him then. Or will your guard keep me from
entering?" He glared at Carrick who stood as well.

"I will go with you." He looked to Analise.
"I apologize for my retreat. But I need to see for myself how the laird
fares."

Her clear eyes met his and she gave him a soft nod.
"Of course."

They entered their father's chambers and were
astounded at the difference. Angus Gordon was propped up with pillows and being
fed by Erin. His eyes darted from Declan to him and he waved Erin away. "I
must speak to you both in private." He heaved a deep breath and closed his
eyes, exhausted from the few words.

They approached and stood next to the bed. The laird
kept his gaze lowered as if examining his words. "I am being poisoned, see
that every morsel is watched over before being brought to me." He closed
his eyes once again, and then slowly opened them.

Carrick looked to Declan who watched their father with
keen interest. "It seems to be true. Analise had seen it before, she
noticed the purpling of your lips and sweet smell of your breath."

"Declan, send the entire kitchen staff away. Hire
all new people."

"Father," Carrick interrupted, "what if
the food or water was poisoned after it left the kitchen. You cannot get rid of
everyone in the keep. I think it best to proceed by having someone trustworthy
watch over the preparation of the food and drink.”

"And I see you deem your men and maids as those
you consider trustworthy," Declan said through clenched teeth. "How
appropriate to take advantage of the situation to ascertain your
position."

"If I wanted the position of laird sooner, would
I not have allowed things to progress as they have been? Why would I go through
all this?" Carrick glared at Declan. He looked to his father. "Who do
you suspect, Father?"

"My wife. I believe she has a lover who may be
helping her." It confirmed Carrick's suspicions. The laird coughed and
tightened his fingers on the linens.

Declan regarded him. "It can't be, she isn't
brave enough."

The laird cleared his throat and looked to Carrick.
"In spite of my actions, you have grown to be a strong man. Be a good
leader to this clan." His voice became lower, barely a whisper.
"Declan. Serve your brother."

The laird's head lolled to the side. Carrick rushed to
feel his pulse. His father was dead.

"How can it be?" Carrick rushed to the
hallway and sent the guard for Analise. "He looked so much better."

Moments later Analise rushed in, Erin right behind
her. She went to the bed and inspected the dead man. "I should have known.
It was too late, the poison was in his bloodstream and it was only a matter of
time for it to reach his heart."

A tear slid down her face and Carrick reached her just
as she slumped against him. "I am so sorry."

"It has been three weeks, Carrick. Surely you can
hold hearings with the clan's people. There is much to make decisions on."
Declan paced the study, his hands clasped behind his back. "I have offered
to sit in for you and you refuse. Something must be done. There are many in the
great room awaiting to have their time with the Laird."

"Leave me be, Declan." Carrick slammed his
fist on the top of the large table. "I need time to go over everything.
Where is Jules? Was he not Father's advisor? Where has he gone?" Nothing
made sense, Jules Donovan, his father's advisor and accountant was absent, the
ledgers with him. Every account of debts to the Lairdship — non-existent. He
knew Declan had something to do with the muddled affairs. His father had many
shortcomings, but he kept a keen eye on clan affairs.

Carrick went to Declan, moving until they were almost
nose-to-nose. Declan's eyes shifted toward the doorway and he stepped back but
could not move any further as he was against the wall. His Adam's apple bobbed.
"So you are going to the great room, resolve disputes between your people?
Are you prepared for what needs to be done?"

"If you know anything, I suggest you tell me now,
Declan." Carrick closed the already small distance between them. "I
am not going to be as easy to kill."

"You are mad." Declan pushed him back and
went through the doorway. He then bent at the waist and swept an arm toward the
great room, his face twisted with anger. "Your people await, my
Laird."

Without a word, Carrick brushed past him to the room
where people were crushed filling the room to capacity. Those who did not have
disputes were there out of curiosity. Anxious to know how the new laird would
rule.

Carrick stood at the high board. Immediately the room
was quiet as a tomb. "Welcome to Gordon Keep, as your laird I will strive
to be fair, but do not mistake that for being soft. I will be swift with
punishment when needed.” He motioned to the head of the guard. "Who is
first?"

Two men shuffled forward. Each stood before Carrick.
The first, who he recognized as a long time farmer, held brown springs in his
fist and spoke first. "Laird. This man." He pointed to the other, who
stood somewhat stooped although younger, and kept his gaze away from the man
accusing him. "His wife cursed my lands. A large portion of my crops
withered before I was able to harvest. I demand justice."

His eyebrows went up, but Carrick attempted to keep a
neutral expression. He looked to the other man. "What say you?"

"My wife is a midwife, one who values life and
cares for all living things." He motioned to a woman who stood a few paces
behind him, a cloth in her right hand and wiped at her eyes. "We have
nothing to gain by killing his harvest. No reasons to wish him harm."

"Not even my refusal of your son's courtship of
my daughter?" the farmer shouted.

Carrick held his hand up. "How much of your
harvest was viable?"

"Half, sire," the farmer stated and glared
at the other man. "The side closer to his portion of the land is
withered."

"The portion that is lower and therefore receives
more rain?" Carrick looked at the farmer. "We had more rain than
usual and by the looks of what you hold, I would say the plantings rotted
because of too much water." He held out his hand. The farmer handed him
the plantings and Carrick examined them. "Yes, I believe that is what
happened. The same happened to my wheat. ’Tis a shame. I lost quite a bit as
well."

He then looked to the stooped man and his wife.
"What are your son's intentions toward the daughter?"

The woman lifted her head, her eyes bright. A mother
defending her son. "He loves her, my Laird. And she, he. They want to
marry. But he..." she pointed at the farmer, "he refuses because my
Amos has no portion of lands of his own. Not yet."

"Is that true?" Carrick eyed the first
farmer. "If I remember correctly, you have no sons. A son could help you
farm more land and care for the harvest. With a son to oversee, you may have
not lost half your crops."

The farmer nodded his shoulders lowering. "Aye.
You are correct, my Laird, I did not consider that."

"Allow the courtship." Carrick motioned to
the guard. "Who is next?"