The Key (17 page)

“I don't want ye to be like others.”

Iliana blinked at that announcement and flushed as she realized that in her distress she
had spoken her thoughts aloud. Shuddering around a sob, she raised her tear-stained face
slowly to peer at him, positive she could not have heard him correctly.

“I like the way ye smell, and I don't mind the keep clean and the food tastier. I even
like yer hair all short and curly like that. I wouldn't have ye change. And if this
marriage is a mess, 'tis sure I am that I had more than a hand in making it one.”

That was when Iliana realized that she must be dreaming. Surely no other explanation would
do for what was going on here.

“ 'Tis no dream, love,”Duncanmurmured, letting her know she had spoken aloud again.
Standing now, he tugged at the shoulder of his plaid. It unraveled and slid to the ground.
He then quickly shrugged out of the shirt he had worn beneath it. Dropping that to the
floor, he faced her silently for a moment, letting her look her fill before reaching for
the linen that was clutched to her chest.

“Or if 'tis a dream,” he said now, tugging the material gently away, “ 'Tis a dream I
don't want to end.”

Iliana swallowed and glanced down at herself as the linen slid smoothly across her body.
She was clad only in the chastity belt. Her gown and undertunic had both been ruined in
the fire, as had all the chests bearing the rest of her clothes. It seemed that the belt
was the only thing she had left in the world to wear. That was why, after bathing and
before having her hair cut, she had re-donned the item. At that moment, however, she
wished it too had burned.

Duncanpaused when he saw what she wore, but before he could feel disappointment or upset
at the sight of it, Iliana reached for the ring of keys on the rough wooden table beside
the bed. When she singled out the odd-looking key he had noticed on a much earlier
occasion and moved it toward the lock, Duncancaught her hands and relieved her of the
ring. He would undo the lock himself. He had fantasized doing so for quite long enough.

Holding the keys in one hand, he offered her his other and urged her to sit on the side of
the bed. Once she had shifted to sit as he wished, he knelt on the floor before her and
set the keys on the bed.

“Do you not wish to” Iliana began with bewilderment, then fell silent as his lips covered
hers. This time, it was she who sat still and breathless as he kissed her, but not for
long. Groaning as his tongue swept inside her mouth, she slid her arms around his neck and
clutched him closer as he seemed almost to devour her. It was a sore disappointment when
his lips left hers to wander across her cheek, but then they nibbled eagerly at her
earlobe as he breathed into her ear, and Iliana shuddered, arching instinctively until her
breasts brushed across his chest, the hair there teasing her nipples to small, pebble-like
peaks that seemed to beg for his attention.

As if they begged out loud,Duncansuddenly kissed a trail down her neck and over her
collarbone, dropping lower still until he found and laved one eager nipple.

Iliana knew she was moaning, and embarrassment made her pause briefly until she realized
that her husband was not silent either. He was muttering words of appreciation and grunts
of pleasure as he suckled at her. Those sounds only managed to enflame her more and she
clutched her hands in his hair, tugging on the soft strands slightly until he released her
nipple and peered at her. Iliana kissed him with all the pent-up passion within her.

This time their kiss was rough and hungry. They were both panting heavily when he suddenly
tugged his lips away and knelt to attend to her breast again, nipping and biting gently at
the tender flesh there. Crying out, Iliana tossed her head back and clutched him closer to
her. When he pushed at her shoulders suddenly, she tumbled backward onto the bed. She lay
with her legs hanging off of it, her belly rippling and quivering as his lips traveled
across it. He licked her flesh along the top of the belt, his hands sliding down to grasp
her hips and hold her still as she began to thrash slightly on the bed.

He continued that way for what seemed forever to Iliana, licking, nibbling, and kissing
the flesh around the belt, her belly, the sensitive curve of her hips, her thighs. She was
positive that he was trying to drive her mad and was thrashing violently on the bed when
he finally reached for the key and unlocked the contraption.

Iliana had barely gasped her relief of being free of the obstruction when his head
suddenly bowed between her legs once more, his kisses finding the very core of her.
Startled and already almost mad with passion and need, Iliana cried out and began to buck
beneath him, every muscle in her body seeming to convulse at once. When it ended and she
was left with only the occasional small spasm, she lay limp on the bed, positive she would
never be able to move again.

She was wrong.Duncanshowed her that a short moment later as he began to caress her again.

***

Sunlight was pouring in through the window when Iliana awoke the next morning. Smiling,
she sighed and stretched on the bed, then rolled onto her side, frowning when she saw that
the spot beside her was empty.Duncanhad already left the chamber.

Stifling the disappointment that that realization brought her, Iliana sat up on the bed
and frowned. She was in Seonaid's room. It was where they had put her after the fire the
day before. The fire that had devoured her room and every stitch of clothing she owned,
she realized suddenly with dismay. But before she could get too worked up over that, Ebba
rushed in carrying a collection of gowns.

“Lord Duncan sent me up with these for you,” she explained excitedly, dumping the gowns on
the bed, then picking them up one at a time and spreading them out. “Are they not lovely?”

Iliana reached out to brush a hand gently over the material of one of the gowns. “Aye.
They are lovely,” she said unhappily, bringing amazement to her maid's face.

“Are you not pleased at his thoughtfulness?”

“Oh, aye, 'twas thoughtful. I hope their owner does not mind,” she added with a bit of
asperity.

Understanding dawned. “All. You fear they were his mistress's castoffs,” she guessed
correctly, then shook her head. “Fie on you. Think you he would be so insensitive? These
are his mother's gowns. Can you not tell by the quality? No village girl would have such
finery.”

“His mother's?” Iliana murmured faintly, noting now that while they were of good quality,
they were somewhat old-fashioned.

“Aye. And that is not all. He has spent the morning talking with your mother while you
slept and now has sent Allistair to seek out the material merchant.”

Iliana's eyebrows rose at that. “He has?”

“Aye.”

Iliana was out of bed in a trice and shifting through the gowns on the bed. After a
moment, she paused, disappointment on her face. “But these are all undeitunics, Ebba. I
cannot go below in any of these.”

“Oh, aye. I almost forgot.” Rolling her eyes, the woman moved to the chest beside the door
and quickly

opened it to shift through its contents.

A moment later she straightened, a neatly folded swath of material in hand.

“Your husband told me this was for you,” she announced, returning to her side. “ 'Twas to
be a wedding gift, but he never got around to giving it to you.”

The maid avoided meeting her gaze as she said the last part, and Iliana smiled wryly. No
doubt the truth was,Duncanhad not given her this “gift” ere now because she had not
behaved as a true wife. It seemed last night had changed things. They were getting a new
start on their marriage. Mayhap all would turn out well now. In fact, she was determined
it would. She and her husband had straightened out quite a few things the night before...
hadn't they?

Frowning suddenly, she considered that. The truth was, she had revealed her soul to her
husband, and he had made love to her with a tenderness and passion that had been different
than the first time they had consummated the marriage, or even the time he had loved her
in the woods. It was the tenderness that had made it different, she supposed. Not that he
had been rough those first two times. But this time there had been something different,
something more than the passion that had flamed and consumed them both those other times.
He had almost seemed to be paying homage to her.

That must mean something, mustn't it? She wondered over that worriedly, chewing on her
lip. In truth, her husband had said very little that would make her think things would be
different now. While he had said that he did not wish her to change, he had not said that
he himself was willing to do so. He had made no promises to bathe more often or... Or
anything, she realized, sinking to sit on the bed.

“Why do you not unfold it and take a look?”

Ebba asked with a frown, bringing Iliana away from her glum thoughts.

Sighing, she unfolded the material, slightly surprised when she saw that it was a plaid
she held.

“He told me how to help you don it,” Ebba announced suddenly with a smile. “He even showed
me. Was that not thoughtful?”

“Aye.” Iliana forced a smile and stood. “ 'Twas most thoughtful.”

She would not despair. Despite the fact that her husband had made no promises and voiced
no pledges, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. He had given her this plaid. It
must mean something. Perhaps it was his way of saying what he could not say with words.

It was time for thenoonmeal when Iliana arrived below dressed in one of the undertunics
and the plaid her husband had gifted her with. Everyone seemed to be at table but for
Duncan and Allistair. Iliana took her seat beside her mother and glanced curiously around.

“You slept late, my dear. Are you quite recovered from our excitement yesterday?” Iliana
nodded at her mother's question. “Where is my husband?” “He is meeting with the material
merchant.” Iliana's gaze narrowed on the older woman's secret smile. “Why?”

“He has things he wished to purchase,” was the obvious answer, and Iliana grimaced at it.
“What things?” “Material, I suppose.”

Before she could question her further, Iliana's attention was turned byDuncan's entering
the room. She was aware of his presence the moment he stepped through the keep doors. It
seemed to her that the very air itself in the hall was suddenly different, and she could
not understand why no one else noticed. She seemed the only person who had sensed his
entrance.

He caught her gaze then and grinned, making Iliana realize that she had been smiling
widely at him. Flushingslightly, she lowered her gaze abruptly to her trencher, feeling
suddenly shy.

Her self-consciousness was short-lived, however, for the keep door slammed open behind
him, and Iliana peered around to eye it curiously. Allistair was coming through the door
shouldering the weight of an unconsciousman. It was an injured Englishman.

Duncanstood and scowled at the unconscious man Allistair was
half-carrying into the keep. “Who”Duncanbegan, only to be cut off by his cousin. “He is a
messenger from Lord Rolfe.” Duncancursed. He had hoped this was Greenweld's man. “How was
he injured?” “Saving my life.”

Duncanstilled at that, and Allistair grimaced, his gaze sliding past him to Laird Angus,
Lady Wildwood, and Iliana as they moved to joinDuncanand hear the explanation. “I thought
I spied someone duck behind a tree as I was riding back with the cloth merchant.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

Allistair shrugged. “By the time I got to the tree there was no one there, and I thought
mayhap I hadn't really seen anything at all.”

“But you went back to check.”

“Aye... Well, it was bothering me. I thought if there truly had been someone there, he
would have left some sign somewhere in the area.”

“And did you find any signs?” Angus asked, stepping forward now to lift and peer at the
head of the man his nephew held upright.

"Aye. The remains of a small fire. I was about to head back to call out a search party
when I was

jumped from behind. When I awoke, this fellow was leaning over me, bandaging me hand.“
Duncanglanced at his cousin's sword hand as he held it up. It was wrapped tight with a
strip of plaid. ”I must have broke it as I fell," Allistair admitted grimly.

Duncanfrowned at that, then glanced down when his wife slid her hand onto the crook of his
arm. She smiled at him gently and he raised a hand to cover her own where it now lay on
his arm, then turned as Allistair continued.

“A second man was there as well, already dead. This fellow told me that he be a messenger
from Lord Rolfe. He said he'd been sent with news of Seonaid, and that he had come along
as Greenweld's man was about to cut me head off. He interfered, they fought, he was
injured, and the other one died.”

Both Duncan and Angus were silent for a moment, exchanging a glance, then Angus asked,
“You were not conscious when the two fought?”

“Nay.”

“And you never saw who hit you over the head?”

Allistair shifted uncomfortably, his gaze sliding to the man he held upright. “Nay.”

“Then you have no proof he is who he claims to be?” Angus sounded more disappointed than
anything as he murmured that. Allistair was looking pretty disappointed himself; then he
suddenly brightened.

“He showed me the message.”

“The message?”

“Aye. He was afraid he would bleed on it, so he gave it to me. Tis in my belt, I stuck it
through there ere helping him onto me horse.”

Angus moved forward to search for the message asDuncanasked, “Where was his horse?”

“I put the dead man on it.”

“The message must have fallen out on the way back,” Angus muttered, straightening. “Where
was the dead man's horse?”

“I don't ken.” He glanced at the man he held. “Mayhap he kens.”

“Ye say ye brought the other man back, too?”

“Aye. He's hung over a horse outside.”

Angus turned and gestured to one of the men in the room. The fellow immediately moved out
of the great hall.

“Do you not think we should tend his wound?” Iliana asked at last when they all continued
to stand around glaring at the unconscious man. Angus and Duncan peered at her as if she
was quite mad.

Even Allistair looked taken aback at the suggestion as he asked, “Tend to the wound of an
Englishman?” Iliana frowned at their reaction. “He is injured.” “He is English.” “What has
that to do with anything?”

“Scots don't heal an Englishman's wounds, wife,”Duncanexplained gently. “They cause them.”

Iliana's mouth tightened and she tugged her hand off his aim “Well, then yourEnglish wife
will tend this Englishman's wounds,” she snapped irritably, sure they were teasing her,
but that this was really no time for it.

“Nay.” He tugged her hand back over his aim “Yer not English.”

“I am so,” she protested, tugging her hand loose again.

“Nay,” he corrected, pulling her hand firmly over his aim once more. “Yer me wife. Ye wear
the plaid. Yer Scot now.”

As Iliana gaped at him, her mother spoke up. “Well, I am English, not married to a Scot or
wearing a plaid, so I will tend to him. Bring him to the table.” She moved Determinedly
forward as she spoke, fully expecting Allistair to obey. And he did, but not until he
received a nod from Angus.

Iliana paused long enough to glare at her husband for his behavior, then followed her
mother.

Duncanarched an eyebrow at his father. “Now what have I done?”

Shaking his head, Angus slapped his son on the back, urging him to follow the women. “I
believe yer wife would appreciate a bit more diplomacy.” WhenDuncanstared at him blankly,
Angus grinned and shrugged. “ Tis something I've never bothered to teach ye. But don't
fash yersel' about it over much. 'Tis something ye'll gain with age. Or not. 'Tis not
really important anyway, but women seem to prefer it.”

Iliana caught the dirty look her mother sent her father-in-law's way after that statement,
but paid it little attention. The Scot Angus had gestured to had come back into the keep,
the other man's body slung across his shoulders like a sack of vegetables. Carrying him to
Angus, he pulled the man off his back, dropping him on the floor at his feet.

Wincing as his head struck the hard stone, Iliana left her mother and Gertie tending to
the man on the table and moved forward to peer curiously at the dead man's face. He was a
gruesome sight. His face was as pale as a sheet, most of his blood seeming to stain his
surcoat. It looked as if he had suffered a rather large, gaping wound to the stomach and
chest. Judging by the grimace of pain on his face, death had been slow and painful.

“Is he the one who attacked you in our bed?”

Iliana swallowed thickly. “ 'Twas dark. I saw little but a silhouette. Still...” Peering
down at him again, she frowned slightly. “He does look familiar to me.”

“Ah.”

Iliana peered at her father-in-law and raised her eyebrows at that.

The older man shrugged. “Ye were held at Greenweld, were ye not?”

“Aye.”

“Then ye must have seen him there,” he said simply, then turned to Allistair. “Did ye spy
anyone else around?”

The younger man had just shaken his head when Iliana's mother glanced over and announced
that their guest was awake. Iliana followed her husband and father-in-law back to the
table, where the man was attempting to sit up, struggling against Gertie's equally
determined efforts to keep him down.

“Let 'em up, wench, I would talk to him,” Angus ordered, pausing beside the table.

Muttering that he would rip the stitches she had just put in his body. Lady Wildwood's
maid stepped out of the way.

The man sat up at once and eyed them all rather warily, relaxing only when Allistair
approached to stand beside Angus.

There was a tense silence for a moment; then Angus shifted impatiently. “My nephew tells
me you saved his life.”

The man's gaze skittered to Allistair then away and he nodded. “Aye.”

“What happened?”

His gaze slid to Allistair and back again. “I was heading for the keep when I heard a
shout. When I came upon your nephew he was unconscious on the ground and a man was
standing over him about to cut off his head.”

“A man?”

“An Englishman.”

“Ye fought him?”

“Aye.”

“He died slow,” the older man commented, and the Englishman nodded solemnly.

“Slow enough to tell me he was from Greenweld, sent to kill Lady Wildwood.”

Iliana glanced instinctively toward her mother, noting the way she paled as Angus asked,
“Did he say if Greenweld had other men in the area?”

"He said not. He said Greenweld had expected to catch her fleeing to the king's court;
however he'd overheard a minor that she'd escaped toScotland. He'd been dispatched to
learn if it was true. If he

found her, he was to kill her.“ ”Hmm.“ Angus eyed him narrowly. ”And you are?“ ”Hugh. Lord
Rolfe sent me to bring a message to you.“ ”What is the message?“ He appeared confused for
a moment. ”I gave it to your man. Did he not“ ”I would have it from you,“ Angus
interrupted. ”Surely you know the contents?"

He nodded slowly. “Aye. We traveled to St. Simmian's, but Lady Seonaid was not there. She
and her companion had not arrived They have been taken by your enemies, the Colquhouns.
Sherwell and Lord Rolfe were going to follow, and asked that you send men to assist them
in gaining her freedom. It seems old Colquhoun is intent on shaming her by making her bear
him a child so that he may kill it before her.”

Iliana gasped in honor, then glanced worriedly towardDuncanas he whirled suddenly toward
the doors, shouting instructions and orders as he went. His face was a mask of stone.

“Wait fer me!” Allistair hurried after him, only to have the other man turn on him.

“Nay. Ye'll stay here.”

“The hell I will!”

“Yer injured; ye would be useless to me. Ye stay,” he announced firmly.

Allistair appeared about to argue the matter, but Angus reached him then and stopped him
with a hand on his shoulder. “He's right. Ye stay.”

Expression stony, the younger man whirled away and stormed out of the keep. Angus sighed,
then nodded toDuncan. “Let's go.”

Duncanfrowned at that. “Nay, Da. I will lead this battle.” “She is my daughter.” “And my
sister. But someone must stay to mind the castle.” “Allistair can”

“Yer the one who is forever telling me that either ye or mesel' must always stay behind to
mind the keep.”

“Aye, but this is different. Seonaid needs us. 'Sides, there is no threat here now. The
assassin has been killed.”

“And what if the bastard lied as he died? What if there is another? We would be leaving
the women untended but fer a handful o' old men and a lame soldier.”

Angus glanced toward Iliana and her mother, taking in the concern on their faces. Sighing
reluctantly, he nodded. “Go then. But bring her back to us safe.”

Turning away,Duncanleft the keep, every man in the great hall following. Iliana glanced
from the departing men to her mother, then hurried after her husband, unwilling to let him
leave without saying good-bye. It was silly, she supposed.Duncanwas a great, strong man.
But then, so had her father been, and the thought was nagging at her that she had not had
the chance to say good-bye to him when he had left on his last trip.

He was halfway to the stables by the time Iliana hurried through the keep door. Grabbing
at the skirt of her plaid, she hitched it up slightly and raced after him.

Duncanwas stomping toward the stall holding his horse when he heard his wife call his
name. Pausing, he turned impatiently toward her, his expression softening slightly as he
took in her breathless appearance. She had obviously run to catch up to him, and her brows
were drawn together in a worried frown that warmed his heart.

“What is it, wife?” he asked, trying to hide his impatience. His mind was focused on
Seonaid and getting her back, and he knew he should not waste his time on marital matters.

Iliana paused a few feet away and grasped at the nearest post, leaning on it while she
tried to catch her breath. “I I” Sighing impatiently, she let go of the post and rushed at
him, throwing herself against his chest and hugging him tight.

Duncangaped down at her, briefly stunned by her impulsive action. Then, realizing that
Rabbie, the stable-master, was standing not three feet away, grinning widely, he glowered
and ordered him out of the stables. Once the man was gone, he raised his hands to pat her
back gently.

“Why,” he murmured uncomfortably. “What is all this in aid of?”

Embarrassed now, Iliana shook her head and closed her eyes, clutching him for a minute
before pushing herself away. “Nothing,” she mumbled, peering at the ground before her
feet. “I just thought to see you off. Wish you godspeed, and luck, and_”

She paused when he placed a finger beneath her chin and raised her face to meet his gaze,
unable to hide the expression in her eyes.

“Do you mean to tell me that me wee prissy wife is worried fer her great, smelly oaf o' a
husband.” Iliana flushed at that, wondering when he had heard her refer to him as that,
but nodded honestly. "You

do not smell now, my lord. Mayhap if you did I would feel differently, but____" This time
he silenced her with his lips, drawing her into a kiss that took her breath away. She was
quite

dazed by the time he released her. Leaning her head against his chest, she closed her
eyes. “I love you.”

It was the way he stilled against her that made Iliana realize what she had said. Good
God! Where had that come from? she wondered in honor, then tugged free of him and fled the
stables, too confused and embarrassed to look him in the eye. Iliana heard him shout after
her but did not slow her step. Unfortunately, she had much shorter legs and was hampered
somewhat by her skirts. She nearly groaned aloud when she felt his hand clasp her arm
before she had taken more than a dozen steps from the stables. When he tugged her around,
she jerked into him with a gasp, and it was the last sound she made.

Duncankissed her. He kissed her right there for all to see and with a passion that made
her toes curl. When he finally set her away, her lips were swollen and red, her cheeks
flushed, and she was swaying on her feet.

Duncantook in her condition with satisfaction, then turned her toward the keep before
bending to whisper “We'll discuss this further when I return. Now get ye back.” He
released her then with a light slap on the derriere, and Iliana stumbled toward the keep,
embarrassment painting her cheeks as she noticed all the grinning people about her. The
courtyard seemed filled with men preparing to leave for battle, and every one of them had
witnessed the shameless display.

Shriveling inside, she forced her head up and continued on to the castle.