Highland Chieftain (7 page)

Bethoc held him close as she gave herself over to his kiss. The feel of his mouth made her weak. She could feel the heat of him invade her body. The way he was moving his hands over her, stroking her back with his thumbs brushing against the sides of her breasts only added to that heat. When he slid his hands up and over her breasts, she shook from the intensity of the feeling that ripped through her. Then he shifted position and suddenly it was over.

“Ah, damn, I forgot for a wee while that I am, weel, impaired,” he said as he lifted his head and smiled at her. “Sorry, but I turned in a way my leg disagreed with.”

“Oh, is it hurt again?” Bethoc moved, thinking to look at it, when he tightened his hold on her.

“Nay. T'was but my leg warning me I am nay ready.”

“Nay ready for what?”

“For ye, Bethoc.”

She could not think of a thing to say as a blush heated her face, so she hurried out of the cave, taking the time to very carefully put the shrubs back. Then she found something to brush off the path as she went down it. By the time she started walking through the wood to home, she was able to try to understand what he meant.

It was more than kisses. That much she was sure of. Then she thought of the hard ridge she could feel beneath his kilt when he held her close and wondered on it. What she needed was someone to ask but there was no one. She could not ask the boys although she had the feeling they would not know all that much more than she did.

Ignorance was a hard thing, she decided. Then she thought on the horses she had seen once, years ago, and gasped. Callum could not be thinking of mounting her like a horse. The noise the female had been making did not bring her any warm feelings of anticipation. No woman would ever get married if that was how it was done.

Then she shook her head. It could well be the same but she doubted it was exactly the same. She needed to cease wondering about it and just leave it up to him. One thing she was certain of with Callum was, if she protested, he would stop. He would never knowingly hurt her.

Once home she collected Margaret and walked back to the fire to think about the evening meal. She suddenly thought on how often she did that, how many hundreds of times she had come in and fixed a meal. Sitting at the table, she watched Margaret play with the mats she had left there and actually considered not making anything, just putting bread, cheese, and meat out on the table.

It was a lovely thought, but she quickly shook it away. True, she brought that to Callum but he was captive, trapped until his leg healed. Kerr Matheson was not and would not be pleased. He would expect a hot meal, demanded one no matter what the weather.

She still had a little time, however, and decided to go out and see what the boys were doing. Once outside she looked around and sighed. The boys had done a lot of work over the years. Around the house was a very tidy garden and beyond that were fields, full of plantings that were close to being harvested. Anyone would be proud of such a place yet Kerr spent little to no time here.

Bean walked up to her, wiping his sweaty face on his shirt. “Looks good, aye?”

“Aye. I fear I ne'er just stood here and saw what ye had done. 'Tis quite wondrous.”

“Keeps Da in drink and women. And lets him play the dice.”

“And that is so wrong.” She shook her head but he kept talking.

“Weel, we have beds and food. Suspicion he thinks that is enough.”

“It isnae though. He could allow us to go into town now and then or give ye a wee bit of coin to save or spend. Ye do all the work.”

“Nay, it isnae enough and ne'er has been,” he answered in a hard, angry voice and then he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “'Tis the way of it though.”

“I think we should make that our words on a shield.” She smiled when he laughed. “One day this will change. It has to.”

Bean nodded and then headed into the house. She did not think he believed her. She had not asked Callum anything, either. It was something she had to consider. This was now two of the boys who had expressed a wish for an end to this, the days of working all day but never gaining any benefit. Bethoc decided she would speak with Callum as soon as she could. She owed the boys that much. If she had to swallow a little of her pride to get them a better life, it was a small price to pay.

Chapter Seven

Laughing at the way Margaret was running through the garden with Cathan at her heels, Bethoc decided it was a beautiful day. The sun shone bright and warm, the sky was blue yet decorated becomingly with white fluffy clouds, and all the boys were in the garden for play, not work. It saddened her briefly that one of the reasons it was so wonderful was because Kerr Matheson was not there. That, she thought, was too sad for words.

So was the fact that she never referred to him as her father any longer, not even in her head. He was either Kerr or, at times, her foster father. She did not even speak with him unless he spoke to her, which he rarely did. If it was not for the boys, she would be like some stranger in her own home.

Kerr was bad, there was no question about that, but he had not been in the beginning, not even with her, a child he knew was not his. She suspected some money had changed hands for him to marry her mother and take her away, take her where no one her family knew well could see her shame. Yet he had not been like he was now. He hit, but rarely. Perhaps some of his anger came from living with a woman who forever dreamed of another man. Her mother had given him no chance to reach her.

Now you never knew when he would strike or why. Now he was silent and cold and they all waited for something to happen. He had not said a word about the stone on the grave next to her mother or the replanted bushes that now thrived. That had surprised all of them. Every night he slipped away and most nights returned drunk. What was he doing? She could think of no reason for him to be disappearing into the village so often.

She looked at Colin who was now almost completely healed with few obvious bruises. He had been such a mess even when he began working again. She still could not understand how nothing could be broken but silently thanked God for that gift. His ribs had been badly bruised though, causing him a lot of pain. He did not even look at Kerr now, treating the man as if he were not even there. Bethoc feared for him each time Kerr was home. She thought the other boys did as well, for they answered Kerr far too quickly when he asked something.

“Ah, ye are thinking of your mon,” said Colin as he sat down beside her.

“I dinnae have a mon,” she muttered and the tingle of a blush rushed over her face as the other boys laughed.

“Mayhap I should go to see this mon ye say ye dinnae have.”

“Nay. It wouldnae be a good idea to have too many people going to the cave. Too great a chance of someone seeing us. He isnae healed enough to face the men who attacked him and they are looking for him.”

“It has been a long time.”

“Eleven weeks.” And she had missed him, only able to make fleeting visits because of her worry about Colin and then her concern that her father may have dragged them into something very dangerous.

“That isnae good, is it?” Bean asked as he sat down on her other side. “Shouldnae he be better?”

“Oh, he is better, but he
did
break his leg. The bone needs to heal.” She frowned. “And I promised him I had something better to put on his leg. I really need to do that.” She stood up. “I think I actually have the time today.”

“Leave wee Margaret here. She is having fun and I can watch o'er her,” said Colin.

Bethoc was about to refuse the offer when Margaret smiled at Colin. If the child was happy to stay, perhaps it really was time to loosen the ties a little bit. There was no doubt in her mind that Colin would keep Margaret safe from their father. He had proven himself already.

She nodded and went to collect her things. Bethoc selected the carefully cut slats of wood and stuffed the long cloth strips into her bag. For a moment she paused to test the weight of the wood to be certain it was as light as she had imagined. Satisfied, she shoved them into the bag as well and then began to load up a basket with food. That was something she was sure he was running out of.

After making certain her father was not returning, she hurried away. This time there was no sign that his friends had been there and yet she suspected they had been. She was embarrassed to admit that over the last weeks she had not taken the time to ask about them.

Once at the cave, she slipped inside, covered the entrance, and turned to look at Callum. He grinned at her and she was immediately suspicious. There was an air of mischievousness about him. She walked over, put down her things, and then sat down next to him.

“No Margaret?” he asked.

“Colin is watching her again. He is finally weel enough to manage her e'en when she is playing so he doesnae e'en have to get any of the others to help him.”

“Ah, so all healed.”

“The last bruise I was concerned about has faded away.” She touched her forehead just above her right eye. “I feared it could prove worse than his badly bruised ribs.”

“Aye, 'tis a bad place to be wounded. So ye can stay longer this time?”

“I have come to redo your bandages. I was just wondering why ye look so pleased with yourself.”

“I made my friends fetch me a lot of water and had myself as proper a bath as ye can have with only buckets to work with.”

“Ye didnae get your bandages all wet, did ye?”

“Nay so I suspicion it is a wee bit rank under there.” He grimaced. “It was a sore temptation to just rip them all off and scrub it but I resisted.”

“Thank mercy for that.” She pulled the boards and strips of cloth out of her bag. “Ye best sit verra still for these though it shouldnae hurt at all.”

She took off the sticks and carefully unwrapped his leg. When she removed the last of the bandages, she studied his leg for a moment and then gently bathed it. As she patted it dry she took the chance to feel the bone.

“I dinnae feel any sign of the break,” she said. “'Tis staying in place and that can only be a good sign. I think we may be close to it being completely healed.”

“It is looking a wee bit withered and pale,” he said, grimacing at the difference between it and his unbroken leg.

“Aye, and will probably be quite weak for a while e'en after it heals.”

After wrapping his leg just once again, Bethoc carefully placed the wood around his leg, laying the strip of cloth underneath and having him help hold some in place. Once she had tied the top and bottom she began to wrap another long strip of cloth around the whole thing as tightly as she could and tied it off. She studied it, thinking it looked a bit messy, but it was holding.

“How is that? Does it hurt?”

“Nay. 'Tis fine.” He frowned. “Why do ye think this is better?”

“Because it covers all the part of the leg that is broken. I thought t'would mean less chance of wobbling and, mayhap, damaging what has begun to heal. Colin is making something in a thick, hard leather that ye will be able to use soon.” She looked at him. “I confess, I am nay sure about all of this, but it worked weel for when Colin broke his arm.”

“If it worked for Colin's arm, t'will work fine for my leg.” He patted the bed. “Come sit.”

She did and settled in comfortably beside him when he put his arm around her shoulders. “So, have your friends accomplished much?”

“Nay as much as they would like but they are getting close to success.”

“What are they looking for besides the men?”

“Some proof of their crimes. They would like to take them to the magistrate and know they will be punished. We could punish them ourselves but then ye have to explain what ye did and why. If ye come up against someone trying to make his mark or who is verra precise in how he interprets the law, explanations and justifications are nay easy.”

Bethoc shook her head. “It all sounds much too confusing.”

“Aye, it can require a lot of dancing about, cajoling, subtle threatening, and the like.” He turned her face up to his. “I am a master of the subtle threat.”

Laughing, she slipped her arms around his neck. “Are ye now? I am nay sure that is something ye should be so proud of. Would it nay be easier just to tell the truth?”

“Och, aye, but I have seen an innocent mon dragged to the gallows, proclaiming his innocence with every step. No one would heed him and he hanged. What troubled me most was no one cared about the man they killed when they found the truly guilty one. And that is a dark tale when I have a bonnie wee lass in my arms.”

Despite all her efforts to control it, Bethoc knew she was blushing. Compliments were not something she dealt with well, having received so few in her life. A grunt of satisfaction for the meal she served was as close as she got. Before she could even think of what to say, he kissed her.

This was why she missed him so when she had to stay away, she decided. The companionship was wonderful, but his kisses were what she hungered for. She readily opened her mouth to welcome his tongue, that soft ache he always caused growing more demanding. Her body wanted something but she did not know what, knew only that she had to get closer.

When he pulled her onto his lap, she was startled but his kisses soothed her. She adjusted herself and straddled him as he kissed her throat. The way he bit her gently then softened the sting with strokes of his tongue had her trembling in his arms. When he kissed her again, she dared to parry the thrusts of his tongue with hers. His hold on her tightened and he made a noise deep in his throat, a soft growl of approval. Bethoc was so pleased with that it took her a moment to realize he had loosened her gown and tugged it down to expose her breasts. Then he put his hands on her, flesh against flesh, and she did not care.

Callum was aching for her. He did not think she was aware of it but she was rubbing herself against him. Her plump breasts begged for kisses and he gave them, savoring the breathy sounds of surprise and delight she made. He wanted her and her innocence did not sway him. Neither did the fact that he would have to take her like this, with her on top. He ran his hand up her slim leg, slipping beneath her skirts, but instead of the bare skin he expected to find there, he touched cloth. He wondered why she was wearing braies but, as he kept her distracted with kisses, he worked hard to undo them.

Bethoc could not think straight. The scent of cinnamon surrounded her. When he took the hard tip of her breast deep into his mouth to suck on it, she clutched at his head, holding him even closer. Through the haze of passion that was now clouding her mind she became aware of the fact that she was now naked beneath her skirts. She tried to form the words to say something but, suddenly, his fingers were there, stroking her, and the words were lost. Each teasing touch made that ache she could not name become greedier.

Then his hand slipped away and she whimpered a protest.

“I am going to take ye, Bethoc,” he whispered as he kissed her ear.

“Take me where?” she asked, shocked by how husky and low her voice had become.

He laughed softly. “Paradise, I hope.”

She gasped when she felt it, something trying to ease inside of her. Everything within her stilled as she realized what it was. It was certainly a lot larger than what the boys had. Bethoc also recognized that it was the hard ridge she had been rubbing herself against. She had only just realized she had been doing that and wondered why, then decided that it had felt good. She was not sure this would but, before she could consider protesting, she felt a sharp sting and she cried out. Callum went still beneath her.

“Sorry, lass, that is the way of it, I fear.” He grasped her by the hips and held her in place as he kissed her and pushed inside her. “I wish it wasnae. Doesnae seem quite fair.”

Bethoc felt full. Full of Callum, she thought, and would have smiled except that his kisses would not allow it. Slowly the ache returned and the pain faded. She wriggled and he groaned.

“Still hurt?” he asked, his voice hoarse and tense.

“Nay.” She frowned as she thought about how she felt. “Just full. Full of Callum.”

“
Jesu
. Now ye move,” he whispered as he grasped her by the hips again and moved her.

For a moment she left it in his hands but her body soon demanded control. He finally let go of her to use his hands to caress her breasts as he kissed her on the mouth, her throat, her breasts. Bethoc could feel that aching tightness inside her growing stronger with every move she made. He grabbed her by the hips again to move her faster. She suddenly felt the tight ache break apart and her whole body shuddered from the force of the feeling that swept through her as she cried out. Callum slammed their bodies together a few times and then held her there as he groaned, and she felt something warm enter her before she collapsed into his arms.

Callum held her close as they both struggled to catch their breath. It had been more than he had anticipated. He prayed this changed nothing, did not make her shy away from him, because he fully intended to do it again. As he lightly stroked her back he wondered if he had found the woman meant for him. He liked her, a lot, and now they had made love, which he also liked a lot. Callum was just not sure if all of that equaled love, the one thing his foster parents insisted was essential for a good match.

Bethoc wriggled and, even though it stirred his interest, he let her go. He grinned at her blushes as she struggled to fix her dress then tried to discreetly dismount. When she turned to look for the braies he had tossed aside, he pulled his kilt down and sat up to reach for them where he had tossed them to the bottom of the pallet. After handing them to her he watched as she somehow managed to don them without exposing too much skin.

“Why do ye wear those?” he asked.

She grimaced. “Several years ago I had a bad tumble in the garden and my skirts flew up. The boys either laughed or kept asking me where my, er, dangly was.”