Not Mine to Give (16 page)

Duncan draped his arm across the back of her chair, and leaned closer. “Not all Scots are like Geordie, Kate.”

Her flesh warmed like she’d suddenly come too close to the sun. She didn’t want his nearness to effect her like it did. “Aren’t they? Listen to your men, Duncan.”

Duncan looked away from her, and focused on the conversations of the Ferguson warriors sitting at the tables. There was hardly another topic being discussed than the upcoming battle with Bolton and the English. “There is little difference, Duncan. They are all anxious to fight the English.”

“The men are anxious to have Brenna back with us.”

Katherine nodded. She didn’t want to think of the Ferguson’s hatred for the English any longer. She didn’t want to think of the lass called Regan. “How long will you be gone?”

“I would think a week. Mayhaps a day or two longer. Is that why you are na eating? You are worried?”

He leaned back in his chair and smiled. Sweet Mary, she was drawn to him. A warm rush swirled deep in her stomach and her breath caught in her throat. How she ached to have him hold her. She’d never felt as safe as when she was at his side. Even when Geordie had reached for his sword she had not been afraid. Not for herself.

“What upsets me, husband, is that you have brought me where I am not wanted, and might not stay alive long enough to care for me.”

“You fear for my life?”

She did, but she would never let him know it. “No, husband. I fear for my future.”

The smile left his face and Katherine waited to see his anger. There was none. A strange, unreadable expression covered his face while his eyes filled with a haunted yearning. That look was even more disturbing. “I will see what I can do to care for your future, wife.” He lifted his cup of ale and drank.

Katherine shoved aside the concern that he would leave in two days’ time and might not come back to her alive. Deep down, she wanted his vow that he would come back to her alive. “When you return, I expect to see you sitting atop your horse, leading your men,” she said, meeting a look that sent warm shivers all through her body.

“Is that an order, wife, or merely a request?”

She tried to turn away from him, but could not. The intensity of his gaze would not release her. “It is an order, husband. I will not allow you to die and leave me a widow before I have been married a full month.”

His lips lifted to form a warm smile, and the riveting of his gaze held her captive with a thousand licking flames of fire. “Malcolm,” he said without turning away from her. “You had best guard my back well from the English, or my wife will
na be so understanding when we return. She is na partial to becoming a widow just yet.”

Katherine bit her lip. She could not allow herself to be so affected by nothing more than a look, or a few soft words and
his unsettling nearness.

“I swear, milady,” Malcolm said from across the table, “that I will guard your husband’s life with my own and when we return he will be sitting atop his horse, leading his men.”

Katherine bit her lip harder.

“See, Kate. You have nothing to fear.”

She had to leave. She had to put some distance between herself and her husband. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come. She swallowed to find her voice. “I will endeavor to adopt your unwavering optimism, my lord, whether founded or not.” Katherine clenched her hands at her sides and stood. Her legs were strangely weak. Her insides moving uncomfortably. “If you will excuse me, I am finished and will go to my chamber now.”

“No. You will stay here with me.” Duncan’s harsh command echoed in the large room.

Katherine stopped with a jerk and twisted around to look at her husband. A deep frown covered his forehead and his eyes seemed darker than usual.

“You will
na hide in your chamber again, milady.”

“Hide?”

“Was that na what you were doing when the McGowans came? Hiding in your chamber because you did na want to be with us?” He stood beside her and lifted her chin with his finger. “Or perhaps it’s only your husband you do na want to be near?”

Katherine narrowed her gaze. She glared at him with as harsh a look as she could make. How dare he! “You are the one, my lord, who has made clear the conditions concerning our marriage and the role I am to play as your wife. I am but
submitting to the rules you have set down.”

“And what rules are those?”

Katherine kept her voice so low, even Malcolm could not hear her words. “For two weeks, you have not been able to bring yourself to be a husband to your English wife.” She held up her hands in surrender. “I yield to your choice. Now, I will not allow it.”

Katherine stared at the startled expression on Duncan’s face until his gaze turned to cold, hard fury. Even she, who feared his temper less than most of the men who’d lived their whole lives with him, was not brave enough to face his anger.

She turned, then walked amid the long rows of trestle tables, keeping her shoulders back and her head high. She made her way out of the great hall, blinking back the damnable wetness that clouded her vision.

She would no more be a wife to him than he intended to be a husband to her.

Duncan tossed back the remaining ale in his tankard and stormed through the great hall after his wife. Blood thundered in his head as her words echoed in his ears.
For two weeks you have not been able to be a husband to your English wife. Now, I will not allow it.

Damn her English stubbornness. Damn her English pride. Damn her outspoken English tongue.

Duncan climbed the stone stairs two at a time and reached the long hallway just as the door to his chamber slammed. He took long, angry strides until he reached his room, and threw open the thick, oak door with such force it bounced against the stone wall and came back toward him. He kicked it with his booted foot, then kicked it again from behind to close it after he’d entered the room.

She did not look up, nor was there a hesitation in her movements as she crossed the room to the wooden clothes chest against the wall. She flung open the door and pulled out the white muslin gown she wore each evening when she went to bed, then whipped out the light blue dress she’d worn the day he’d brought her here. Next, she walked to her small dressing table and snapped up her brush and the silver netting for her hair. When she had everything collected, she stormed toward the door, without even looking at him.

Duncan blocked her path as she reached to open the door. “You will na even think of leaving this chamber, wife.” His voice came out as a harsh growl but he didn’t care.

“I will do more than think about leaving,
husband
,” she leveled back at him. “I intend to stay in the empty chamber near the chapel. And you will not stop me.”

“Oh, I will stop you, Kate. And you will
na be feeling so pleased with yourself when I do.”

Duncan anchored his fists on his hips and glared down at her, giving her a most ferocious look. By the saints, she was a challenge. He had never met anyone more pigheaded in his life. Where did she think she was going? What on earth made her think he would allow it?

He filled his lungs with hot, burning air. She glared back at him, the anger in her eyes mounting. “Step back, Kate,” he warned.

She did not flinch, but pursed her lips tighter, fisted her hands around the wadded clothing in her arms and took an equally harsh breath. The flare of her upturned nose was the most appealing thing he’d ever seen.

“I will na let you leave this room, Kate.”

With an angry stomp of her foot, she stormed back across the room and threw the clothing to the bed. The brush bounced once, then landed on the tapestry covering the floor with a soft thud. She kicked it in anger. “Why?” She turned on her heels and glared at him. “Why should I stay? You don’t want me here.”

She paced the floor beside the bed with her hands fisted at her sides and her back as straight as a lancer’s spear. “Do you think I don’t know that you come here every night and watch me while I sleep?” She pointed to the chair beside the bed. “What are you thinking, laird? How much you wish someone else was lying in your bed?”

She paced the floor again, not bothering to look at him. “Do you think I don’t know how demoralizing it is for you to
take an Englishwoman as your wife? How it eats away at you and your Scottish pride? I remember the first night you stayed with me. I prayed it would not be impossible for you to…” She breathed a sigh that quivered when she released it. “In the morning when I awoke, you were gone. Until tonight, you haven’t even touched me.” She spun around to face him. “Am I that repulsive to hold, Duncan?”

The hurt Duncan saw in her eyes twisted his heart inside his chest. He thought she’d been asleep and had not known he’d sat with her each night. “You do
na understand, Kate. It’s na that—”

“It doesn’t matter, Duncan. You no longer have to feel any guilt about tainting the next Ferguson heir with English blood. We will share no bed between us.”

“Aye, we will, Kate. You are my wife and—”

“No. I am not your wife. Our marriage has not been consummated.”

Duncan looked at the pale coloring of her face and felt the air leave his body. She reached out to steady herself, and he noticed that her hand trembled as she grasped onto the bedpost.

“Our marriage has not been consummated,” she repeated, her voice shaking.
“I’m going to London. Considering the special circumstances surrounding our marriage, I’m sure the bishop will—”

“Nay!” Blinding shards of pain slashed through his head, then stabbed into his chest to reach his heart. “You are my wife. I will
na let you go.”

“What good is it for me to stay?”

Duncan crossed to where Katherine stood and grasped her shoulders. “You will na leave me, Kate.”

“Why? You don’t want me.”

“I wish to God I didn’t.” Duncan looked at her and understood more clearly than ever before how much he wanted her. He had never wanted anyone more. Every emotion in his body told him so. She was his. He had chosen her.

“I will always be English,” she whispered.

“You will always be my wife.” He pulled her close and lowered his head to capture her mouth in a blinding kiss.

By the saints, he couldn’t lose her. No matter what else, he could not lose the woman who had braved Bolton in the dungeon to try to free him. He could not lose the woman who gave life to every emotion he thought died when he found his parents slaughtered. He could not lose the woman he’d chosen as his wife for all time.

He lifted his mouth and looked into Kate’s eyes. She didn’t believe him. He could see it written there. He covered her mouth again, drinking from her, teasing, touching, tormenting.

She held herself stiffly in his arms, pushing her arms against his chest, fighting to make him stop. But he would not.

He tried to be gentle, but he could not. She wanted to leave him. He was desperate to make her want to stay.

She turned her head away from him, trying to avoid his kisses. Duncan wrapped one arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. He raked the fingers of his other hand through her hair, cupping her head in his massive grip so she couldn’t escape him.

He opened his mouth atop hers, running the tip of his tongue over her lips until she moaned a loud sigh of agony. She opened to him and he entered her warm cavern, seeking, finding. He had this one chance to prove he wanted her as his wife. This last chance to erase the ghosts that had haunted him since he’d found his family slaughtered.

He deepened his kisses, reveling in the hot, searing pulses that caused a burning ache deep in his gut. He needed her. He wanted her. As badly as he’d ever wanted a woman in his whole life. He pulled her up against him and ran his hands over her body, cupping her backside, pressing her fully against him.

Blazing arrows of fire coursed to every part of him. He let his hands roam over her, kneading the heels of his hands against the small of her back. Listening to the soft moans echo in the back of her throat.

He lifted his mouth from hers and took in huge, gasping breaths of air. She panted just as hard. “You will
na leave me, Kate,” he whispered in her ear, then moved his kisses lower, to the tender spot on the side of her neck. He trailed his kisses downward, pulling at the lacing on the gown she wore. The material ripped and he pulled it harder until her breasts were bared.

Duncan uttered a breathless moan, then kissed her again. He brushed his fingertips against the snowy whiteness of her flesh, reveling in the silky feel of her skin. He kissed her there, moving from one breast to the other.

She clung to him when her knees buckled, and with a loud moan of surrender, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself to him.

She was his wife.

He would forget that she was English, and only remember that she was his wife.

…

Katherine lolled her head back on her shoulders and cursed her traitorous body for reacting to his touch. She cursed her traitorous body for desiring his kisses. She cursed her body again, and gave in to the cataclysmic emotions racing through her.

She’d always known his kisses held a special power over her, but she had no idea his touch could do what it did. A burning heat spread from the tips of her toes to the ends of her fingers. Every part of her tingled.

She skimmed her hands over the taut flesh at his sides, then touched the tight cords across his shoulders and down his arms until his muscles quivered in response. She’d been so sure of her decision to leave him, knew it was the only option open to her. Until he’d held her, and kissed her, and touched her like he was now.

His hands pulled at her clothing, ripping what would not come off easily. Cool air washed over her body. She welcomed its relief. Her body burned. His touch did that to her. This was indeed a torment she had never believed possible. Every inch of her flesh where his lips touched and his fingers caressed, blazed. The path his touch forged was as straight as a marksman’s arrow, spiraling to the very core of her being.

He stepped away from her and pulled his clothing over his head. Then picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He covered her with his body. The weight of him atop her sent waves of thunder crashing against her ears. The feel of his naked flesh created a firestorm of heat.

She raked her fingers through his thick, dark hair, and pulled his mouth down to hers. She closed her eyes to millions of emotions that rushed through her, hypnotizing her mind, body, and soul. She should stop him. Once he took her, there would be no going back.

His mouth opened over hers while his hands skimmed every inch of her nakedness. He ran the tip of his tongue over her lips until she moaned a loud sigh of agony and lifted her head to meet him. He dared to breach the entrance to her mouth, and she surrendered with something near desperation.

His hands cupped her face on either side while his thumbs rubbed lazy circles on her cheeks. A bolt of molten heat spiraled to the pit of her stomach, to that newly discovered place Duncan had awakened with his first kiss. She could not control the emotions raging within her.

His hands moved over her skin, over her shoulders and down the sides of her body. His long, muscled fingers skimmed the edges of her breasts, the curve of her waist, and the rounding of her hips. She did not know a man’s touch could make her feel this way, could make her crave something she couldn’t explain.

“You are beautiful, Kate. You are truly beautiful.”

He raised above her on his elbows and looked into her eyes, then lowered his mouth to her again. He kissed her deep, drawing from her, giving to her, imploring and demanding from her.

And then his kisses moved. First to the spot below her ear, then down her neck, then to the full rise of her breasts.
Katherine grasped her hands around the sinewy cords on his arms and held tight. She needed to touch him. She needed to feel him close to her. She needed more of him.

As if he sensed what she wanted, he covered first one breast with his mouth, then the other. Katherine’s head lowered to the pillow as she arched her back to give him more of herself. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t wait. “Duncan, please.”

“Aye, lass.”

He positioned himself over her, then kissed her again. His kisses became even more demanding, and all the while he tortured her with his lips, his hands stoked the fire on her skin. He moved over her flesh until she could do nothing but writhe and moan beneath him.

His fingers touched that secret place deep within her, and she arched against him and shattered into a million pieces. She wanted this. She wanted more.

“There will be pain this first time, Kate. I wish it were
na so, but it is the way of things.”

She felt him come into her and knew he was trying to be as gentle as possible, but heaven help her, the pain was unlike any she had imagined. A ragged moan tore from the back of her throat and she pushed against his shoulders, struggling to free herself.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold on tight, lass.”

She couldn’t do it. Instead, she turned her head and pushed against him again.

“Put your arms around me.”

With a shuddering gasp, Katherine wrapped her arms around his neck and held on with all her strength. Tiny tears
welled in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. She breathed a relieved sigh when his mouth covered hers again and he kissed her.

His tongue urged her to open for him and the moment she did, he thrust his hips forward and entered her. A sharp, searing pain, worse than any she had expected, stabbed through her body. She clenched her fingers on the corded muscles expanding his shoulders as he covered her mouth to muffle her scream.

He clamped his arms around her and held her tight. “Do na move, Kate. Hold yourself verra still and the pain will ease.”

Tears filled her eyes, then ran down her cheeks.

He kissed her lightly. “It will never be like this again, lass. I promise.” He kissed her again. “Is your pain gone?”

“Nearly.”

He kissed her again.

Oh, how she loved his kisses. If he would just be content to do no more. But just as that thought entered her mind, he moved within her. She braced herself for more pain, but it did not come.