Chapter 16

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

T hey slept, snuggled together like puppies, warming each other and keeping time with the rhythm of their breath, safe among the kindly folk of the village hidden from the reach of the laird his band of cutthroats.

Arran was the first to wake. He wandered outside and across the grass to the woodland, cleared his throat, coughed and spat. He was reliving himself when Dahlia appeared at the door of the cottage, laughing.

"Ye're well enough, I see."

"Aye, lass." He wandered back smiling, "I'm well enough. All the better fer spending these few hours in yer arms."

"I'll join ye after I've found the privy and splashed me face and hands with clean water." She held up her soot-stained hands.

When she returned, Abigail and Morag were at the door with Arran.

"Will ye join us fer our daily meal?" Abigail offered with a wide smile.

"We'd be awful pleased if ye would." Morag said, practically bouncing off her feet.

They followed Abigail to her cottage, where Colban, the man who Arran had rescued after his roof had collapsed, sat beside Elspaith and his wife, Jenny.

"We've much tae thank ye fer," Colban said, getting to his feet. "Ye see me. I can stand, thanks tae ye and Elspaith."

"I'm right glad tae see that, Master Colban."

"And now, thanks tae ye, we've a cow and more chickens and all of us are better for the milk and cream and the little cheese along with the eggs we now have tae eat."

Arran nodded. They all lowered their heads in thanksgiving before beginning the little repast Abigail had spread before them of cheese and oatbread, and eggs and carrots.

Once the meal was finished and Elspaith had filled them in on some of the other improvements to the villagers' lives since their visit only a few short weeks ago, Arran rose to his feet.

"I'd like the opportunity of taking a walk by the burn. I've much tae think on."

Dahlia turned and thanked Abigail and Elspaith for their kindness. "I believe we owe much tae ye and the other villagers. But now I think I'd best accompany Arran. We have many important matters tae discuss."

The others nodded politely as Dahlia trooped outside in Arran's footsteps.

They walked together in the afternoon glow beside the merrily flowing waters of the burn. Although she was happy Arran had recovered from the fire, they had resolved nothing. Emilia was still hidden somewhere, Dahlia was still officially betrothed to Bairre, Arran's life was in grave danger and it was only by sheer good luck he had escaped alive from the burning cottage.

Tears dripped down her cheeks as a pall of melancholy overtook her.

Arran took her in his arms and kissed away the tears.

"Me sweet, ye mustnae cry so. We have each other and although things arenae as they should be, there is nowhere I'd rather be than walking here beside ye."

He found a place to sit among the bracken and pulled her down beside him, taking her lips in a long kiss.

Dahlia clung to him, holding tight as if she'd never let him go.

He lowered his head and layered kisses over the delicate arch of her neck and, peeling the kirtle down, kissed first one shoulder and then the other.

She signed and moved in his arms so that she was lying on her back.

"I want ye tae take me once and fer all, Arran." She favored him with a mischievous grin. "Now ye cannae deny me. I dinnae care if I am with child. I would be most happy tae bear yer babe. I want nothing more than tae be yers."

He leaned over her and kissed her again, her arms twined around his neck and her fingers wound into his hair, holding him. "I'll die fer wanting ye, now that ye showed me the pleasure. If ye had nae lived beyond the fire I would never have kent the joy of making love with ye, or having ye as me man."

She drew the kirtle over her head, and lay before him bare to her waist in her underskirt and aught else.

"I wish fer naething more than tae make ye mine."

He lay beside her, gazing at her nakedness. "I've never seen so lovely a sight as ye." He cupped her breast with one hand lowered his lips to suck the puckering nipple, growing hard at the sound of her sigh and the movement of her hips against him.

"I wish tae see yer manhood," she brushed her hand against what was now a sizeable bulge. "I cannae believe such a thing can enter me body."

He shifted so that he could untie his trews and let his hardness spring free.

She gasped and reached a hand to gently stroke him. He grinned. "Ye can treat it a little rougher if ye like." She tightened her grip and now it was his turn to gasp.

She wrapped her fingers around his shaft and he moved his hips, thrusting into her hand.

"Why, ‘tis so smooth, like velvet. And so very big," She looked up at him in amazement.

"Ah, I cannae take much more of that."

"Why, what will happen if ye keep on, or if I dae this…" She moved her hand up and down the length of him and he groaned mightily.

"What will happen is that I'll nae be able tae contain meself and I'll have tae make love tae ye at once."

She pouted. "And what would be so bad about that?"

"Naught," he said and kissed her again. "But I want tae feel ye."

They kissed some more, and then kissed and kissed again and again until Arran had quite lost his mind. All he could think about was the way his hands stroked up and down her perfect body, and her warm touch on his chest. His fingers went exploring the most delicate and private parts of her, and she released a moan.

"Och, Arran, I am aching fer ye."

He did his best to chuckle but, truth to tell, he had only the most tenuous grip on his senses. The honeyed taste of her and the wildflower scent of her hair had all but driven him mad.

Panting like a horse that had galloped a mile he rolled over so that he was lying on her, supporting himself on his elbows. He looked down at her precious face, her eyes were closed and her mouth was ajar in a picture of passionate joy. She opened her legs to accommodate him as it seemed the most natural thing to do, while he scooped her rear up so that she met his shaft which was, by now, a solid piece of granite.

Still, he gritted his teeth for restraint. While every bit of him wanted swift release, he held back, lowering himself slowly, parting her folds with his fingers so that the merest tip of his manhood moved to her slickness and made a leisurely slide, entering her slow and easy.

She gasped once and then he was inside her, up to the hilt. Dahlia raised her hips to accommodate him even further, and then the two of them surged together in the age-old rhythm of passion, thrusting and withdrawing and thrusting again, each time more compelling and wilder. He had never felt this way making love to a woman and let himself drown in the pleasure of it.

When Dahlia felt Arran entering her, she tensed slightly, but he was being so delicate she immediately relaxed. He must have felt it because he then pushed into her all at once. She gasped at the initial discomfort, which was immediately replaced by a feeling of such intense pleasure that it made her buck her hips up towards him. They began moving together and the waves of pleasure she felt became stronger and stronger.

Calling his name and clinging to him she found her bliss beside the burbling burn in a bed of bracken. Not at all how she'd girlishly imagined how she'd lose her maidenhood. Her fantasy had always been a giant four-poster bed in a castle, where she'd be worshipped by a handsome someone who was her husband.

Never in all her wildest dreams would she have pictured herself in a peasant's chemise under a spreading oak tree with the chorus of birds for music and the gentle flowing stream for background.

And never had she imagined that the one who worshipped her with his body would be a lion-like man who had stolen her heart with his bravery and his beauty. All the years she'd held onto a dream of the Black-Mask, the mysterious man who had risked his life for her, never did she dream he would one day be her lover.

They collapsed together, still holding each other tight, drifting, drowsing, not even attempting to speak, allowing their heartbeats to calm down and their breathing to return to something like normal.

They woke to a chill in the air and, shivering a little, shuffled into their clothes.

"I cannae bear the thought of Bairre anywhere near me." Dahlia smoothed down the kirtle she wore and set to work tidying her hair, brushing a few leaves and grass from where they were ensnared in the silky tresses.

Arran took her hand. "We must return tae the castle. If ye're gone fer long Bairre will send his guard tae seek ye out."

She looked around, her eyes suddenly wide and frightened. "They mustnae find this place. I would hate fer Bairre's wrath tae descend on them after the care the villagers have given us."

"I would give anything fer us tae bide here longer, but ye're correct. We cannae risk harm coming to these good folk."

"Bairre left ye in the old bothy tae burn. By now he must believe ye're dead. Cannae we run away together? We could make it back tae my braithers and we'd be safe at Castle MacLeod."

Arran gave a long, slow sigh. "I wish nothing more than fer us tae be together forever. If ye will have me as yer lawful husband I will wed ye."

Dahlia threw her arms around his neck. "There is nothing more I could wish fer either, Arran. I have faith that we will come through all this stronger than ever. Ye will prevail over Bairre and we will be together."

He gave a wistful smile. "Ye are me lass now, fer as long as we live. But I cannae abandon me maither. If Bairre believes me dead he has nae need of me maither tae maintain his hold over me." He looked at her gravely. "He will kill her."

"Then we must find Emilia. We must make sure she is safe. Once we have her out of Bairre's clutches, then we can leave Castle Mackinnon fer good."

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. "That can never be, me Lady Dahlia. For I am tied tae the castle and I cannae leave it any more than yer braither Haldor could leave Castle MacLeod. It is me birthright."

Dahlia looked up at him arching one eyebrow. "Och, Arran. I ken ye are one of Clan Mackinnon's own, fer ye bear the clan name, but the castle is a cruel place, ‘twas where I was held four years ago by James Mackinnon. It is where ye almost lost yer life helping me escape. Surely ye would wish to put great distance between the castle and yerself. I swear ye'd be happier at Castle MacLeod."

He shook his head slowly. "'Tis nae so simple. I've never told me story tae ye lass, and it's time ye kent everything. It's time ye understood why Bairre Mackinnon hates me and wishes me death and why I cannae leave Castle Mackinnon."

Dahlia sat up, her hand folded in his. "'Tis something I've wondered about but didnae dare tae ask. Why is it so important tae him tae have power over ye and use yer sweet maither tae wield it?"

Arran took a deep breath. "The story starts before I was born. It commences when James and Bairre were weans. Their maither, Ailsa, died after a long and lingering illness and their father, Gregory, was absent fighting in the war with the English. The boys grew up wild and willful, especially James. Nay one dared refuse them anything, and they did as they pleased. They were cruel lads even then. The castle servants already feared them.

Their faither, Laird Gregory, spent time at Ruthven Castle recovering from his battle wounds, and he fell in love with me maither, Emilia. They married and it was not long before me maither found she was with child. Shortly after that me faither was killed in battle."

Dahlia drew in a breath and clapped her hands together. "That child was ye!"

He nodded. "Aye. I never kent me faither at all but Emilia has told me of him. He was a fine man."

She thought this over. "So… this means ye are half-brother tae James and Bairre?"

"Aye. James inherited the lairdship when he was a mere lad of thirteen. He indulged himself in everything his heart desired and grew a fearsome reputation. When me maither came tae the castle, bringing me tae meet me braithers and tae take me rightful place in the clan, James and Bairre were furious. They ignored me maither's marriage papers and declared I was a bastard, unable tae inherit."

Dahlia gasped. "And without the marriage papers ye cannae prove otherwise."

He scowled. "Aye. The papers mayhap are lost, but there are witnesses tae the marriage and the priest who performed the ceremony. They will be found and my rights will be restored.

They tolerated our presence until I was fifteen. At that point they became convinced I was a threat tae their power and me maither and I were banished tae a tiny village on the west coast where we spent the next years. I was forbidden, on pain of death, tae ever return tae Castle Mackinnon."

"How brave Emilia was tae bring ye tae the castle and how sad fer her, tae lose her husband after such a short marriage. Did it break her heart when ye were banished?"

"Me maither is a brave woman who has always found a way tae make the best of wherever she finds herself."

"But ye were at the castle years ago when James Mackinnon was holding me prisoner."

He gave a sharp laugh. "Och, aye. Once I grew tae manhood I came and went as I pleased. I had many friends in the clan and the castle who wished tae see me take me rightful place. James and Bairre had nye idea that I was under their very noses many times."

"I understand now how it was that ye kent the castle and its secret passageways so well."

"In the years I spent in the castle as a lad I explored every nook and cranny. I ken the castle better than anyone."

"When James was killed and Bairre disappeared, the Council declared me laird. But they lacked the papers tae make me me faither's legitimate heir and presented me tae the clan as a cousin."

She sighed and got wearily to her feet. "I understand now why ye are reluctant tae leave the castle. ‘Tis yer rightful home."

Arran stood, placing his arm around her waist. "I ken ye dinnae wish tae return and I'll accept if ye decide tae make a dash fer home now. I'll even help ye. But I must go back."

"I dinnae wish tae return tae the castle, but I am honor bound tae dae so. Until the king sets aside me betrothal tae Bairre ye and I cannae wed. If I flee now, I will be placing yer maither's life at risk. Yer life is already given away and I'll dae naught tae put ye in further jeopardy. I'll return tae the castle and whatever fate has in store."

They kissed again. This time with a slow, desperate kind of longing that bespoke their fear for each other and for what might await them at the castle.