Chapter 12

Madden retreated to his and Lorcan's room to tend to his wound. Squinting into the s surface of a shield hanging on the wall, he attempted to rub the blood clean from his face and apply the salve onto the cut over his eyebrow without causing the blood to flow anew. He was concentrating so hard that he did not hear anyone come up behind him until it was almost too late. Spinning around, he grabbed his assailant and placed his blade to their throat.

"Unhand me," the assailant shrieked.

"Isabelle?" Madden asked, recognizing that turn of phrase and releasing her from his grasp. He returned his blade to its sheath. "What were ye thinking sneaking up on a warrior like that!? I could have killed ye!"

"I heard about yer fight with Bain, and I wanted tae make certain that ye were nae harmed beyond mending," Isabelle admitted, looking at his cut with concern on her face.

"I am well," Madden replied. "It is nae but a wee scratch."

"What were ye thinking getting in tae a fight with him? He could have killed ye." She frowned at him in disapproval. "Ye are only going to fuel his suspicions that I am an unfaithful wife. Dae ye wish tae see me murdered in me own bed?"

Madden shook his head. "I am sorry. I did nae mean tae bring ye harm. I simply could nae sit there while he spoke that way about ye. If it had nae been me, it would have been yer braither."

"Aye, but I cannae be accused of being unfaithful with me own braither. If he had fought Bain, he would have had the protection of the entire clan behind him. It would have been a matter between lairds." Sighing, she took the cloth and salve from him. "Sit down," she commanded, gesturing towards the chair near the bed and Madden obeyed. Stepping forward, she proceeded to thoroughly clean his wound, then applied the salve. She was competent and made quick work of it.

The feel of her hands upon his skin, the nearness of her body, was having an undesired effect upon Madden's person. He wanted her with every fiber of his being. "Why did ye marry him?" he asked. "Why did ye wed Bain Sutherland?"

Isabelle shook her head. "I had nay choice."

It was the same answer that she had given him before. "Daes he have something on ye? Daes he ken something about ye that ye dinnae wish fer anyone else tae ken? Daes he have something that belongs tae ye? What is it that binds ye tae him? It is nae love."

Isabelle's eyes met his, tears glistening in their beautiful depths. "It could never be love," she whispered. "I could never love such a beast."

Unable to hold himself back anymore, Madden pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her. She responded with a fiery passion that swept over him with a strength that he could not resist. Lifting her up into his arms, he stood and carried her over to the bed. Laying her down, he turned to the door and placed the bar in front of it to keep anyone from entering unexpectedly. Turning back to the bed, he walked to the edge, his eyes holding Isabelle's. "I want ye. Will ye have me?"

Isabelle nodded. "Aye, I will have ye," she whispered, holding her arms out to him.

Relief flooded Madden's mind and heart while passion fueled his body. He removed his clothes, then lowered himself onto the bed, his body hovering over hers. Reclaiming her lips, he kissed her deeply, then moved down her neck, to her breasts. Unable to get to them sufficiently through her clothing, he pulled her up into a sitting position and pulled her dress, then her shift up over her head, dropping them onto the floor. Her body glistened like a pearl in water in the fire's light.

"Ye are bonnie beyond belief," he whispered, his eyes taking her in. He traced the lines of her body with his hands, his fingers passing softly over the bruises that dotted her skin. "Och, lass, I could kill him fer what he has done tae ye. Only a mad man would harm such perfection."

Tears slipped from Isabelle's eyes, disappearing into her hair spread out across the pillow below her head. "Kiss me," she whispered, her body trembling under his gaze.

"With pleasure," he murmured, bending down to reclaim her lips.

Isabelle wrapped her arms around him, her breasts pressing against his bare chest. He could feel her nipples against his skin, simultaneously hard and soft. His tongue flickered lazily in and out of the opening between her lips, slowly building up in rhythm and intensity, their tongues intertwining passionately until they could hardly breathe. "Madden," she moaned his name as he lowered his mouth to lick and suckle her neck, her chest and then each hardened peak in turn.

Madden continued down her abdomen to the juncture of her legs. His tongue reached out and parted her nether hair to flick the hidden pink pearl beneath. "Mmm," he murmured. "Sweet as honey." Delving his tongue into her inner most folds he let his tongue explore every bit of her hot wetness, to then return to her bud, driving her crazy.

"Madden, I need ye," Isabelle breathed, her voice strained in desperation attempting to keep from crying out and drawing unwanted attention to them.

Madden did not need to be told twice. Raising himself up over her, he positioned his hardened length between her legs. "Are ye ready fer me, lass?" He confirmed. He did not want her to have any doubts or regrets.

"Aye, please, Madden. I need ye inside of me." She gripped his shoulders, digging her fingers into his back as she pulled him closer.

Reclaiming her lips, he kissed her passionately as he teased her with his tip until she could no longer take it and raised her hips while she held on to his as if her very life depended on it. She grabbed him with all her might, and he plunged inside her soft, slippery, welcoming body from tip to base in one thrust. "Isabelle," he breathed, as her wet warmth wrapped itself around him. It was as if he were coming home. It was as if her sheath was the only one in the world for him to rest his sword. Driven by a madness born of passionate need, Madden began moving inside of her slowly and then with a fervor that would have scared a lesser lass. Then tantalizingly slowly again, stopping to gaze into her eyes, until Isabelle took him and returned his previous fervor with equal passion.

Their love making became fierce, deep, and all encompassing. The sensations that swept over the both of them were unlike anything that they had ever felt before. They moved together in a frenzied rhythm as old as time itself. As he slid in and out of her, Madden felt as if he might burn alive from the inside out with his desire for her.

He looked down into her eyes, liquid pools of need and pleasure. He could feel her breathing getting faster and he her tightening around his manhood until the spasms started and she gasped his name into his ear. It was his undoing, he instantly fell over the precipice, lights exploding behind his eyes. They climaxed together, each reaching their fulfillment at the exact same moment. Madden felt as if he were falling into the abyss of eternity. It was the most profound, intense orgasm he had ever experienced, he couldn't stop the fall. His mind went blank and his body limp before he slowly started coming back to reality. He rested his head on her forehead as they both tried to catch their breath.

"Isabelle…"

Suddenly, a knock at the door broke into their peaceful cocoon. "Madden Kinnaird?" a maid's voice filtered through the wood. "The laird has enquired about yer wound."

"Tell his lairdship thank ye and nae tae fash, that I am doin' much better and am a resting," Madden called back, sending the maid scurrying on her way.

"This is madness," Isabelle breathed. "This is sheer and utter madness." She pushed him off of her, scampering up off of the bed, to grab her clothes from the floor. She pulled her shift and dress over her head as quickly as she could. "We cannae ever dae this again."

Madden felt a pain in his heart at her words. For the briefest of moments, it had felt as if their bodies had merged into one. There had been moments when he had not been able to tell where his body ended, and hers began. It had been the most all-encompassing feeling that he had ever experienced. He could not imagine going back to a time when such a connection no longer existed.

"Isabelle," he spoke her name softly, reaching out to offer her comfort in her distress. "I will protect ye. I will nae allow him tae harm ye."

Isabelle looked at him with fire in her eyes, refusing the gesture of comfort. "Ye cannae keep him from hurting ye, let alone me." She gestured towards the wound on his forehead. "Me life is nae yers tae protect. This was a mistake, and it will never happen again." Panic and tears in her eyes, Isabelle removed the bar from the door and fled from the room as if the devil himself was chasing her.

The next morning, Madden went down to breakfast to find that everyone had already gathered around the table to break the fast. He had slept later than usual after a restless night of tossing and turning, his thoughts never leaving Isabelle. As he entered the hall, she avoided meeting his eyes, looking anywhere but where he stood. Squaring his shoulders, he moved forward toward the dais.

"Good morn," Arran greeted Madden as he joined them at the table. "How did ye sleep?"

Madden shook his head. "Well enough," he answered, not willing to go into detail.

"Sit, eat," Arran instructed. "We were just talking about where we had eaten the best parritch we had ever had."

"Will that nae make yer cook jealous?" Madden asked.

Arran laughed. "She is the one who started the conversation."

Madden raised his eyebrow in surprise, but nodded as he sat down to a steaming bowl of parritch that was being sat on the table in front of him. "Now try that," the cook commanded, eyeing him closely. "Is it nae the best parritch that ye have ever had?"

Madden took a spoon and scooped up a healthy portion of the globular substance. He spooned it into his mouth giving it the attention that had been requested of him. It had apples, raisins, and honey in it. "Aye, I dae believe it might be," he nodded smiling at the cook.

"I cannae tell the difference between this parritch and the parritch that we had at the inn," Bain grumbled.

"The inn about a day's ride from here?" the cook asked.

"Aye," Bain nodded.

"That is because the cook there is my daughter. I taught her how tae make parritch," the cook replied with a smile of pride.

"I thought that it tasted familiar," Keelin admitted.

Isabelle and Madden exchanged a fleeting look at mention of the inn where they had shared their first night together. Madden caught Keelin watching them more closely than usual and averted his eyes. Does she ken the truth? He tried not to dwell on the thought. If one person had noticed, then that meant that others might have as well.

"If ye had seen her, ye would have kenned she was mine as she looks just like me," the cook admitted.

Lorcan chuckled, nodding. "Aye, ye could pass as sisters."

The cook blushed at his compliment and bustled back to the kitchen.

"Family resemblance is interesting. Isabelle and I dinnae look anything alike, while Keelin and I have often been mistaken fer braither and sister," Arran admitted.

"Aye," Lorcan agreed. "People used tae believe that Isabelle and I were brother and sister with our dark hair, but fer her grey eyes. I dinnae ken anyone in the family that ever had those eyes. I remember some of the village lads used tae jest that she was nae a true member of the laird's family."

"Aye, we knocked more than a few teeth out o' their heads fer it if I recall rightly," Arran nodded.

In spite of himself, Madden looked into those beautiful grey eyes and found himself being mesmerized once more. Keelin cleared her throat next to him to get his attention. Madden turned his head back towards her. "May I have a word?" Keelin asked, her tone saying that he did not have a choice.

"Aye," Madden replied, nodding his head.

The two of them excused themselves from the table and walked out of the hall into the courtyard. Keelin looked all about them to make certain that no one would overhear them then she turned eyes of fiery judgement towards Madden. "Is Isabelle the woman from the inn? Did ye take me cousin Isabelle tae yer bed, Madden?" she hissed. Madden tried not to give anything away, but apparently, he failed as Keelin hauled off and punched him straight in the chest. "What were ye thinking?! Bain Sutherland will kill ye both!"

"I was nae thinking," Madden admitted. "I did nae ken that she was married. I did nae ken who she was. At the time, she was but another bonnie lass that literally fell intae me lap."

Keelin's brows rose in question at his choice of wording. Sighing, Madden told her the entire story. When he was done, Keelin was staring at him with her eyes wide open. "Ye care fer her." It was not a question, but an observation.

"Aye, I dae, and more the fool I am fer it," Madden admitted grudgingly.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Keelin breathed.

"Aye," Madden agreed. "Ye cannae tell a soul what I just shared with ye. Isabelle's very life depends upon it."

Keelin nodded. "I willnae say a word tae anyone, but ye must keep yer distance from her. The looks that ye are giving each other will be noticed. I willnae be the only one who has noticed."

"Is all well with the both of ye?" Arran's voice broke into their conversation. His head was poking out of the doorway, his brow furrowed in concern. "Did yer breakfast nae settle?"

"Aye, all is well. Keelin and I were discussing when she plans tae return tae her parents," Madden answered, lying.

"Och, nae yet, surely. Ye have nae been here fer very long. It has been good tae have ye here. Isabelle wouldnae forgive me if Keelin left now. It has been tae long since me wee lassies have been together." Aran came around the side of the door and wrapped his arms around Keelin's shoulders.

Keelin shook her head. "I will nae go yet," she promised. "Ye are right. It has been tae long since we have all been together."

The three of them reentered the hall to find that Isabelle had left the dais and returned to her room. Madden looked towards the stairs, his mind going to her bedchamber and what he had left for her there.

Isabelle, unable to take the tension between herself and Madden for another moment longer, slipped quietly from the hall and climbed the stairs to her bedchamber. It was impossible to be near him and not want him. He was strength and sex appeal personified. When she was near him, she could not think straight, and her body responded with a throbbing need between her legs. It was uncomfortable and there was nothing that she could do about it but put as much distance between them as possible.

When she entered her room, she shut the door firmly behind her and leaned against it with her eyes closed as she breathed in the quiet of the space. Her head was throbbing in time with the beat of her heart, and she found it to be entirely too uncomfortable to deal with in that moment. She needed to find a way to release the anxiety that threatened to swallow her whole. Sighing, she opened her eyes and walked over to the bed with the intention of lying down for a nap only to be brought up short by the sight of her necklace resting on top of the bed covers.

Madden, her heart whispered his name in a prayer of gratitude. He had not stolen it. He had returned her most precious possession, and in doing so, he had returned to her a piece of her heart.