Chapter 21

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

" G ood morning, melady."

Beattie carried in a tray laden with a bowl of porridge, cream and honey, coddled eggs, bannocks and raspberry jam. She laid it on the table near the fire and took the poker to stoke the glowing embers into a cheerful flame.

Dahlia stretched and yawned, stepped out of her warm coverlets and flung her fur-trimmed robe about her.

"Thank ye, dear Beattie," she said, taking her seat by the fire.

As always, her thoughts were of Arran. Was he keeping safe? Was he still hidden within the castle's byways?

"Ahem." Beattie broke through her reverie. "Melady, the Lord Arran is guarding yer door once again. He was standing tae attention when I came in. I gather he spent the night there."

"What?" Dahlia dropped her spoon back into the bowl, splashing porridge on the table cloth. Her mind had difficulty grappling with this new information. Arran at her door? Did that mean he had relinquished his hiding place and was putting himself in danger?

She leaped to her feet and paced toward the door. Creaking the old oak door open a few inches she caught sight of his broad form standing close by.

"Arran. What in the name of all the saints in heaven are ye doing here? Have ye taken leave of yer senses. What of Bairre? Once he kens ye're alive and ye were nay destroyed in the fire he will try again tae take yer life," she fumed.

He stepped forward, grinning.

"Why, melady, the Laird Bairre has ordered me tae take up me position guarding ye every minute of the day and night."

She huffed indignantly. "I thought ye were tae have kept yerself away from Bairre Mackinnon. Ye promised me ye'd keep out of sight and nay give the man an opportunity tae attack ye again."

"Aye I did that." He looked at her and shook his head. "Me apologies dear heart, I didnae tell ye me plans as I kent ye would never agree tae me showing mesel'. But I could nay longer stay hidden like a tiny frightened mouse. One more day and I'd hate meself more than I hate Bairre."

Dahlia nodded reluctantly. "I understand yer impatience. But ye are risking everything by revealing yerself."

He reached for her hand. "We havenae much longer tae wait. I've instructed the head groom tae make our horses ready. ‘Tis me intention tae soon be on our way. Now that ye've found someone tae guide us tae Bairre's old haunts, I believe I shall at last be successful in finding the place me maither is being held."

"I long fer the day when we have left this place."

"It will be soon enough. But fer now, we must keep some distance between us so that Bairre doesnae suspect us of conspiring together." He pressed his lips to her hand.

"I understand." She felt tears burning behind her eyes. What she wanted more than anything was for him to hold her close and the thought of remaining aloof and distant was pure pain. "We must dae naething tae alert him tae our plans."

With a sigh, Dahlia closed the door. It would not do for her to be seen conversing with Arran, and she had no doubt that Bairre's servant, man or woman, would be watching from the shadows.

For the remainder of the day Arran and Dahlia ignored each other. While she spent most of the day in the solar, he stood guard outside the door, taking only short breaks to relieve himself and not a word passed between them. Anxious as she was at the prospect of them soon to be leaving the castle in search of Emilia, Dahlia thought the day would never come to an end.

To her dismay Bairre insisted in joining her for supper. His presence made her feel quite ill and her appetite fled in his presence.

"Come, lass. I've told ye before today that I believe ye could fatten up. I'm nae one fer bony women."

She bit back the impulse to tell him that she wasn't a prize cow, even though he paid her no more respect than if she was in the barn yard. Instead, she smiled prettily, having no intention of annoying him.

Conscious at all times that Arran was only a few steps away guarding the door, a brief plan formed in her mind. Arran had called for her to distance herself from him and she had an idea of how she could make sure this was something Bairre should be fully aware of.

After taking a few mouthfuls of the nettle soup, she put down her spoon, frowning.

"It's nay use melord. I cannae eat while I am being watched and brooded over like a naughty child."

He looked up from his venison pie, one eyebrow raised. "What dae ye mean?" He looked around. "I am nae observing ye. Ye are free tae be yerself."

At this she pshawed loudly. "Have ye forgotten that ye ordered Arran tae be me jailer? Why, I cannae even visit the privy without telling him where I intend tae go. And then he follows me and waits outside. I have nay dignity and I am nae treated as befits a lady who is betrothed tae the laird."

A look of amusement flickered across Bairre's features. "I am sorry if ye find his presence tae be a burden."

"Of course, I find it a burden," she snapped. "What were ye thinking when ye insisted he should keep watch over me?"

Bairre leaned back in his chair and dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Then he reached for his tankard of ale and took a long draft. Finally, he turned to her, a sardonic smile on his face.

"Ye're right, lass. Mayhap ye recall that I was forced tae take such action because of yer continued defiance of me wishes."

She pouted. "Methinks I should be treated with proper respect. Yer braither James behaved most horribly toward me when he contained me within the dungeons here. I had expected that, given King Robert's interest in our marriage, ye would treat me with a greater measure of courtesy than ye've done."

"I regret that me behavior is nae tae yer liking melady. But I am a reasonable man, prepared tae reconsider a situation when things change. Can I trust ye now tae dae as ye're told? Nay attempt tae flee the castle and return to the Isle of Skye at the first opportunity?"

"Indeed." She crossed her fingers against the lie she was telling. "I have nae intention of leaving Castle Mackinnon. Ye are doing a great disservice tae treat me, yer future bride, as a common criminal with an odious man tae watch over me."

He laughed softly. "So, are ye telling me that ye find me cousin Arran tae be repugnant tae ye?"

"Aye, indeed I dae. He is quite repulsive tae me." She knew full well Arran could hear every word of their conversation. She could only hope he understood why she was insulting him as she was. Making up her mind to explain herself to Arran as soon as they were alone together, she nodded, adding. "Aye. He is a most unpleasant creature."

This was obviously pleasing to Bairre, who took another swig of his ale, regarding her with an expression of satisfaction.

"I wish I could relieve ye of the company of this offensive man, melady. But I'm afraid I dinnae trust ye any more now than I did when ye first arrived here. Just remember, we will soon be wed. Once ye've taken yer marriage vows and the priest has declared us tae be man and wife – and only then – will I remove the guard from yer door. Fer when ye are mine, according tae the laws of the land, ye will nae stray away from me castle on pain of death."

Dahlia could scarcely restrain a shudder at his words. Yet she consoled herself with the knowledge that she and Arran would soon be on their way into the mountains. The marriage would never take place. There was no way Bairre could force her to recite the marriage vows and take him as her lawful husband. There was only one man she would give herself to and soon they would be ridding themselves of the castle and leaving the reach of Bairre's authority.

"Now, ye must excuse me," Bairre rose, bowing slightly from the waist. "I have some discussions tae follow up with some of the members of me guard. Yer jailer will escort ye tae yer chamber when ye are ready tae retire fer the night." He took her hand and pressed it to his ice-cold lips. "I bid ye goodnight, lady Dahlia."

He snapped his fingers as he passed Arran. "I fancy sparring with ye tomorrow morning. Attend me at the training yard, first thing. We'll practice our swordplay and I'll best ye at archery."

He moved out of sight down the passageway leaving Dahlia filled with dread.

She rang the bell for Beattie who appeared almost at once.

"Are ye ready tae retire fer the evening, melady? I have turned down yer bed and left ye the warming pan under the sheets and laid yer night shift out tae warm up."

"Thank ye Beattie. I'll nae need ye again this evening. Arran will escort me tae me chamber."

Beattie shot her a knowing look and a grin. "Very well, Lady Dahlia. I shall attend ye in the morning." She pivoted on her heel and disappeared in the opposite direction to Bairre, heading towards the servants' quarters.

Dahlia gave Arran a rueful smile and his eyes twinkled as he glanced at her. "The laird has given his orders. I must escort ye tae yer chamber."

She nodded, wishing he could take her in his arms. Instead, he held himself as straight as a ramrod, displaying no emotion, the perfectly disinterested soldier carrying out his duty with no feelings for her at all.

Head high, she strolled along the corridor and up the stairs, with Arran keeping a respectful two paces behind his lady.

She paused outside her door so that he could step forward and open it for her. As he bent to undo the latch, she was able to whisper to him one word. "Later." Then she stepped inside her chamber and the door closed, leaving Arran standing guard outside.

Dahlia slumped into one of the chairs by the fire. Tonight's encounter with Bairre had left her drained and her whole body was shaking.

His final words to Arran were filled with menace. After all, what better setting could there be for cold blooded murder than the training yard, where knights sparred ruthlessly with their long swords and dirks and fired wicked arrows that could even pierce a man's hauberk.

After staring into the flames and wishing for some ghostly hand to reach out and offer a solution to her problems, she jumped to her feet and paced the floor. Surely there was some way out of the situation, a way to escape Bairre's murderous intentions.

But whatever might await her and Arran in the morning, the night was theirs and she longed to be in his arms.

Opening the creaking door, the merest fraction, Dahlia's heart bounced at the sight of Arran standing so strong and dependable just outside.

"Come inside," she whispered.

He looked up and down the passageway, which was still lit by a candle contained in a sconce a few feet from Dahlia's doorway. Satisfying himself there was no one lurking in the gloom, with one swift move he snuffed out the candle with his fingers and the corridor descended into darkness. Now there was no way someone attempting to keep Dahlia's doorway under a watchful gaze could see what was going on.

She opened the door and Arran tiptoed inside her chamber. Once he was inside, she pushed the door closed behind him and he enfolded her in his embrace with a deep sigh of longing.

In the flickering light from her fire his eyes burned dark gold, his long fair hair formed a bright halo around his face and it seemed to Dahlia as his mouth descended to take hers there had never before been such a beautiful man.

Kissing like two lost souls who had at last discovered each other in the outer reaches of hell, she wound her arms around his neck and took a fistful of his hair, holding him as if she would never release him. With a grunt he hoisted her in his arms and strode with her into the bedchamber. There he gently lowered her onto the piled-up pillows and coverlets spread across the giant bed.

Caring not a fig for Bairre Mackinnon's suspicions or for his raging jealousy they reveled in each other's presence.

Dahlia gave a delighted laugh as Arran peeled the kirtle from her shoulders and roughly pushed it down to her waist, freeing her breasts from her stays. He groaned loudly as he brushed his hands across her bare skin his hands cupping her.

"By all the saints Dahlia, I swear ye have bewitched me. I can think of naught else but yer beauty, the soft touch of yer silken body, the rosy nubs of yer milk-white breasts. I cannae live without lying with ye again. Ye're everything tae me."

He buried his face in her breasts and set about stroking and suckling, his tongue circling one nipple while he rolled the other between finger and thumb.

Dahlia moaned and thrashed her head against the pillow. "Arran, please dinnae stop, ye're making me mad with love fer ye."

He gave a soft chuckle at the side of her mouth and set to kissing her throat and across her shoulders and down to her breasts again. While his mouth was working her nipple, with one hand he raised her skirt above her knee and let his hand roam across her bare thighs until he reached her mound.

She cried out as his hand slipped among the damp curls of her quim, then he inserted one finger between her slippery folds and stroked up and down while she bucked under this relentless onslaught on her senses.

"Could there be such pleasure and joy as ye bring me even in heaven, Arran Mackinnon?" She groaned loudly, stretching herself as his hands and mouth took her higher. "There is nothing in all the world that could bring so much divine and luscious delight tae a body."

He put his mouth on hers in another infinite kiss that left her dizzy and reeling. She stroked his face, gazing deep into his gold-rimmed eyes.

"I swear I will break in two if ye leave me empty of ye any longer. Every part of me is screaming tae be filled by ye." She reached up, fumbling to untie his braies, until at least the fabric fell away and his granite manhood sprang free.

"Now," she cried out, closing her eyes, hauling in a ragged breath. "I want ye, Arran, come intae me, dinnae leave me a moment longer. She circled her legs around him, pulling him tight against her so that his shaft was angled at her entrance. She moved her hips up to meet his.

He moaned, touching her lightly with his member. "Lass, ye are near driving me out of me mind." He hoisted himself onto his elbows and looked down at her lying spread on her back with her hair tossed free on the pillows around her. "All I want is tae take yer body with mine. I want tae drive me manhood deep inside ye and hear yer moans and cries. I want ye tae scream me name and I dinnae care who hears us. Ye are mine, and ye can never belong tae another."

Dahlia raised her hips and he pushed forward with his cock, sliding into her, burying it inside her. They found their age-old rhythm and matched each other thrust for thrust. Each movement took them further into rapture until, at last, they could go no higher and with the moon and stars clustering around them, they cried out each other's names and roared their sublime pleasure.