Chapter 2

Isabelle Sutherland sat by the hearth reading her favorite book as she distractedly played with her mother's necklace. From the day that her mother had died, she had never taken it off. It was the only thing that she had left of her. It was her comfort in times of distress, and unfortunately, she was often in distress.

"Isabelle!" She was pulled out of her quiet contemplation by her husband, Bain, as he stormed into the room. "There ye are. I have been looking fer ye."

"Where else would I be?" she asked. "Ye banished me tae this room upon our arrival."

Isabelle knew that her tone was not respectful, but he controlled everything about her life and never allowed her to go anywhere or do anything without him or his second in command, Athol, accompanying her. Bain, old enough to be her father, was constantly accusing her of being unfaithful with the younger men of the clan. They had never loved each other, and it showed in their every interaction with one another. Theirs was a marriage of dire necessity and nothing more.

He gave her a warning look, before continuing. "We must leave at first light if we are tae reach yer braither's stronghold afore dusk. We cannae afford tae stay the night in another inn."

"We could have slept out in the open and nae paid fer one tae begin with," she reminded him.

Bain gave her another warning glare. "I will nae have it said that me wife sleeps in the dirt among unwashed men."

"It would nae have been the first time. I slept out of doors often as a child when me family travelled."

Bain waved away her logic. "It is of nae consequence. Once I have secured a loan from yer braither, our financial concerns will be brought tae an end."

"A loan must be paid back. It is a temporary measure at best. It is also possible that me braither will nae loan ye the money. He would never dae anything that might cause his own people tae suffer," Isabelle pointed out. "Would it nae be better tae admit tae the king and tae the clan that yer business speculations failed and that ye cannae pay yer taxes or provide fer the clan fer the winter?"

Fire flared from Bain's eyes, and he strode across the room, pulling her up by the wrist. The book that she had been reading clattered to the floor. "Dinnae question me! Yer braither will give me the money, and ye will see that he does, or I will tell him of how yer parents truly died and how ye came tae wed me."

Isabelle struggled against his grasp to no avail. "It has been eleven years. Will ye ever cease threatening me with blackmail?"

"Nae, I will nae. Speak another word and ye will discover just how true me threats are." The menacing tone of his voice let her know that he was not to be tested. She closed her mouth and did not say another word, as instructed. With her falling silent, Bain let go of her wrist. Blood rushed back into her hand, causing it to tingle as if she had stuck pins in it. The skin of her wrist was already starting to turn red. "I am going tae the tavern fer a dram with Athol. I have placed a guard outside of yer bedchamber door. Ye are tae remain in this room fer the rest of the night. The innkeeper's wife will bring ye yer food."

"Dae ye nae plan tae return?"

Bain laughed. "What would I have reason tae return fer? Why would I choose tae lie with a barren bitch, when there are fertile young lassies at the tavern who I dinnae have tae fight with tae take me intae their beds?"

"I am yer wife. Ye are me husband. Yer whoring shames us both." Isabelle feared that her brother might hear of Bain's activities this close to his lands. She did not wish to stand before her brother, having brought such shame to their family name.

Bain snorted. "Ye are nae wife tae me. Were ye a true wife, ye would have produced me an heir. As ye are nae able tae, I must pup a bastard on tae whores in hopes of producing a male heir. The only one shaming us is ye." Turning, Bain left the room, slamming the door behind him.

Isabelle crossed the room and placed the bar over the door. Neither he, nor any of his men, would be allowed to enter this night. The last thing that she wished to endure before seeing her brother was to have her drunken husband forcing himself upon her. She did not need any more bruises. It was going to be difficult enough to hide the ones that she already had.

Anger surged up within her, threatening to overwhelm her entire being. She despised her husband for all of his abuses. She wished like anything that she could lash out at him in some way, but she had no way of hurting him. He held all of the power in their marriage. The only way that she could even put a dent in his armor would be to cheat on him with another man. Even then, it would only be a wound to his pride, not to his heart.

He would have tae have a heart tae hurt it, and he does nae have one. The only positive outcome of such an action would be me own secret knowledge that I had betrayed him in some small way.

She sighed shaking her head.

What man would I be able tae dae such a thing with? It cannae be one of his own men and I am never around any other. Bain has me guarded night and day.

Isabelle snorted.

Dinnae fool yerself, Isabelle. Ye may be brave, but ye are nae that brave. Ye may nae wish fer yer body tae be possessed by the likes of Bain Sutherland, but ye lack the courage tae surrender yerself tae a strange man simply fer the pleasure of vengeance. Ye are trapped and ye ken it. After all of these years, ye would think that ye would have accepted it by now.

Leaving her book abandoned where it had fallen on the floor, she walked over to the open window and looked out at the starlit night. Reaching up, she clutched her mother's necklace in her hand. The coolness of the metal and stones against the palm of her hand brought her comfort. She missed her mother so very much each and every day, but it was in moments like this that she missed her the most. If anyone could have understood the pain that she felt in her marriage, it would have been her mother.

Isabelle missed her brother as well, but she could not be around him without feeling guilty for what she had done and for keeping it from him. The thought of facing him after all of these years made her nervous.

The farther away from Arran I am, the better fer him.

The memory of the day her father died flashed through her mind and her hand jerked in an emotional response to the pain and panic that flooded back into her being. To her great dismay, the jerking motion broke free the necklace from her person and she watched in horror as it plunged down into the darkness below. Her hand shot out in an attempt to catch it, but she was too late.

"Nae!" She silently cried out in distress. She could feel the panic and sorrow rising up within her as tears filled her eyes. To her great relief, the necklace came to rest on a lantern hook just below the window.

Leaning out the window, she hung onto the wooden frame as she attempted to retrieve the necklace. She leaned as far as she could, but it was just out of her reach. Unable to regain the necklace while holding onto the frame with her hands, she let go and used her legs to hold onto the windowsill. Unfortunately, her dress got in the way and did not allow her to grab ahold of the frame with enough force to maintain her balance. The moment that her hand was just about to grasp the necklace, her body gave way, and she plunged down into the darkness below.

"Ah!" She cried out in fear as she fell.

She fully expected to land on the hard ground and be injured, but instead she landed right onto the lap of a complete and total stranger. Taken aback and panicking that any moment one of her husband's men would find her in such a compromising position, she reached out and punched the man square in the face.

"Unhand me!" She demanded with as much authority as she could manage, given her vulnerable position.

The man groaned and then raised his hands as if in surrender. "What were ye doing, lass? If ye wished tae sit on me lap, all ye need dae is ask."

Isabelle scrambled up off of his lap and put some distance between them. "I was attempting tae retrieve me necklace." She motioned above his head to where the necklace still dangled from the lantern hook. "I fell out of the window."

The man stood and turned to look up to where she pointed. "Ye fell from that window?" His brows arched in surprise.

"Aye, I did," Isabelle admitted, lifting her chin in defiance.

He turned back to look at her. His face was shadowed, and she could not make out his individual features, but his tone left no doubt as to his disapproval. "What were ye thinking? Ye could have fallen and broken yer neck."

"Ye have nae right tae chastise me," Isabelle retorted, her pride wounded. "I dinnae ken who ye are, nor dae ye ken who I am. I owe ye nae explanations."

"Perhaps nae, but ye did fall on me," he pointed out.

"Fer that I apologize. It was nae me intent. Did I hurt ye when I fell?"

The man shook his head. "Nay, nae too much, I am nae harmed, although that was quite a fall. Good thing ye are as light as a feather. What value does this necklace have that ye would risk yer neck fer it?"

"It was me maither's," she explained. The word was hung in the air between them, heavy with unspoken meaning.

"I take it that she is nae longer with ye, lass?" His tone had gentled, holding empathy where it had held judgement but a brief moment before.

"She is nae." Isabelle could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and she tried her best to fight them back. "She died many years ago."

"I sorrow fer yer loss. I tae lost me maither, and me faither afore that."

"As did I," Isabelle admitted.

"So, we are both orphans," he observed. "God rest their souls."

They stood there for a moment in shared loss.

"Well, we had best get ye that necklace back." The man turned back and eyed the distance to the necklace. Stepping up onto the chair he had just been sitting in, he used it to step up onto the table. He tested the table's stability by wiggling its legs, but it held. "Hand me that chair, would ye, lass?"

Isabelle stepped forward and lifted the chair up onto the table. "Yer are nae going tae climb on that are ye? That does nae look stable," she cautioned.

"Aye, it is foolish, I will admit, but needs must." Securing the chair on the table, he turned back to her. "Would ye hold the legs fer me?"

"Aye," Isabelle agreed, and taking the legs in her hands, she held on tightly. "Be careful," she warned. She did not wish to be responsible for bringing him, or any other person, to harm.

The man nodded, then climbed up onto the chair. He reached up as high as he could but came short of the lantern hook. Taking in his options, he used the structural elements of the side of the building to scale the wall and retrieved the necklace, whereupon he placed it inside of his shirt to keep it safe. "I have it," he confirmed to reassure her. "It appears tae be undamaged." As he was closer to the window than the ground, he climbed up into her room and poked his head back out of the window. "I will meet ye down in the dining room," he called back down to her.

"Nae!" Isabelle cried out in panic. She knew that Bain's man would still be standing outside of her bedchamber door. She scrambled for a believable explanation that did not reveal the shame and abuse that she was forced to endure every day. "Are ye mad? Ye cannae be seen coming out of me bedchamber, ye will shatter me reputation."

"Och, lass. I did nae think. Me apologies. I will come back down."

"First, help me tae climb up there," Isabelle instructed. She could not be seen returning to her room either when she had not been seen to leave it to begin with. Her husband would hear of it, and she would never be left alone in her own room again. She would not put it past her husband to bar every window in the castle once they returned home if he discovered what she had done.

"Are ye certain that ye wish tae climb, lass? It isnae as easy as it looks. Could ye nae simply walk around tae the front of the inn? It would be safer fer ye."

"What would be the fun in that?" Isabelle retorted with a bravado that she did not feel in an attempt to hide her fear of being caught and punished.

She climbed up onto the table, and then onto the chair. She followed the man's steps exactly, climbing up the side of the building as he had done, careful not to let her dress get in the way. It was far more difficult than it had looked when he had done it. When she finally reached the lantern hook, she could not find any other way to get to the window. The man had simply hefted himself up with his arms, yet she did not possess the upper body strength to do the same. She looked up at him in uncertainty.

"I have ye, lass," he reassured her, and leaned out of the window. Grabbing her wrists, he hefted her back up into the room. Before she knew what was happening, they fell together into the room onto the floor, Isabelle falling on top of him. Mortified, she scrambled to her feet as quickly as possible, feeling her cheeks warming.

"I thank ye fer yer help. Were it nae fer ye, I might have broken me neck."

Laughing, the man stood up, shaking his head. "It has been a livelier evening than I expected." In the light of the fire from the hearth, they could finally see each other without the shadows of the night obscuring their view. His brows arched in surprise as he took her in. "Och, lass, did I hurt ye?" he asked, gesturing towards the bruises on her wrists.

Isabelle shook her head. "It is from the fall," she lied. She was not about to tell him of the abuses that she endured. He was a total stranger and for all that she knew he could know her husband.

She let her eyes sweep over his form as he looked around the room in curiosity. He was a large mountain of a man, tall, muscular, with long blonde hair tied up into a knot with a leather strap, and dark eyes that threatened to swallow her whole. He was a beautiful Viking of a Highland man. He was so big that he made the room feel entirely too close. Isabelle gulped and turned away to hide the effect that his presence in the suddenly tiny room had on her.

"Are ye well, lass? Did ye hurt yerself elsewhere in the fall?" His concerned voice caused her to turn back towards him.

"A bit perhaps, but I am well," she reassured him.

"Shall I fetch ye a healer?"

Isabelle shook her head. "Nae, I will be well. Dinnae fash."

They stood there looking at each other for a moment. Isabelle could feel herself blushing under his gaze.

"Me name is Madden," he finally introduced himself, breaking the silence.

"Isabelle," she reciprocated, offering him her hand out of habit.

He took it in his and kissed it. "Me lady," he murmured against her skin, then raised himself back up to his full height, standing closer than before. He retrieved the necklace from his shirt and handed it to her.

"I owe ye for this," Isabelle thanked him, taking the necklace. "I am grateful for yer help."

"How can I refuse a debt of gratitude from such a bonnie lass." He smiled at her charmingly.

"As I will most likely never see ye again, I dinnae ken how I can repay ye fer yer kindness. I would pay ye coin, but I dinnae have any tae give." Isabelle looked around the room to see what she might offer him.

"I was considering going tae the tavern fer a dram. Ye could accompany me," Madden offered.

Isabelle could not do as he asked, but she did not wish to tell him why. "We could have a dram together here. I have a flask in me belongings," she offered. "But we must be quiet. Me clansmen are resting in the adjacent rooms and could be strolling around".

Madden smiled wider and nodded in agreement. "Aye, we could at that. And I will be as quiet as a mouse."

Isabelle motioned for him to take the seat opposite where she had been reading earlier. She listened at the door to make certain that the guard had not heard anything, then ruffled through her belongings to find her flask of medicinal alcohol. Retrieving the flask, she joined him in front of the hearth. Sitting down across from him, she noticed that he had picked her book up off of the floor.

"This is a good one," he remarked, handing it back to her.

"Aye, it is," she agreed, smiling. "It is one of me favorites."

"Dae ye enjoy reading?" he asked with a curious light in his eyes.

"Aye, I dae. I have more books in that bag than I dae clothes," she admitted motioning towards the bag that she had retrieved the flask from. "I always travel with them."

Madden smiled, nodding in approval. "I admire a woman of learning."

Isabelle cocked her head to the side, studying him quietly. She extended him the flask and he took it gratefully.

"What is that look about?" he asked, with an interested light in his eyes.

Isabelle shook her head. "Nae all men admire a woman of learning."

"Then they are fools," he shrugged. "What is life without books?"

"Indeed," she agreed with a smile.

He took a sip from the flask and handed it back to her. Isabelle accepted it and took her own small sip. She handed the flask back to him and decided to put her book back in the bag to keep it from being further abused. When she rejoined him, she found him staring into the flames of the fire as if it held the secrets of the world in its depths. He looked up at her when she approached and smiled apologetically.

"Me apologies."

Isabelle shook her head. "There is nae need tae apologize. Dae ye wish tae share what had ye so deep in thought?"

He shook his head. "I was just thinking of me time in France. A friend of mine recently drew me mind back tae that time and it has lingered in me thoughts since."

Isabelle nodded in understanding. "Travel teaches us much about ourselves and life as a whole."

Madden's brows lifted in surprise. "Indeed, it does. Have ye traveled much yerself?"

"Nae as much as I would like. I have been tae France, but I was a much younger lass and it was nae fer very long. How was yer time there?"

Madden shook his head. "That is a complicated question."

"Ye need nae share if ye dinnae wish tae dae so."

"I went tae France tae find a cure fer me maither, but there was nae cure tae be had. She died before we could return home."

"I am sorry."

He nodded in acceptance of her condolences. "After she died, I lost meself fer a time in war and women."

"The king of distractions." She gave him an understanding look.

Madden nodded. "Aye, the king of distractions indeed. It took nearly dying meself fer me tae realize that I needed tae change me ways, and so I did. I have been back home fer about a year now and I ken without a doubt that it was the right thing tae dae."

"Well, fer me sake, I am glad that ye returned. Had ye nae helped me, I dinnae ken what would have happened."

"Ye would have broken yer neck, that is what would have happened." He studied her face for a moment. "I ken what I want in payment fer my help."

Isabelle chuckled. "Once a mercenary, always a mercenary."

He grunted at her jest as if he was not quite certain what to think about it.

She gave him an apologetic look. "What is it that ye wish fer?"

"A kiss." He said it so nonchalantly that she thought she had heard him wrong.

"A what?"

"A kiss," he repeated. "In payment fer saving yer life, I would like fer ye tae kiss me."

"Why?" She asked dazed.

"Ye are a bonnie lass whose company I enjoy. Why would I nae wish tae kiss ye?"

Isabelle shook her head. "Nae, I will nae kiss ye. I dinnae ken ye well enough tae share something so intimate."

Madden snorted. "A kiss is nae intimate. I have kissed many strangers."

"That I dinnae doubt," she retorted.

"Kiss me," he murmured, as he drew her chair towards him across the floor.

"Nay," she shook her head.

"Why nae? Dae ye find me tae be repugnant? Or me character tae be displeasing?"

Isabelle shook her head. "Nae, I dinnae."

"Then why dae ye nae wish tae kiss me?"

Isabelle did want to kiss him. It was her husband that was the problem, but she was not about to tell a complete and total stranger that. She searched her mind for an excuse, any excuse but the real one. She came up with nothing. She wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss her. She thought back to her notion of revenge against her husband by cheating on him with another man and all sense of resistance left her spirit.

"I want tae kiss ye," she admitted, blushing as she did so.

A smile spread across Madden's face. He stood up, pulling her up out of her chair to stand in front of him. Reaching up, he brushed the hair back from her face, cupping her cheek gently. His eyes met hers and she nodded her consent. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips against hers gently at first, then with more intensity. Isabelle, never having been kissed in such a caring manner, became lost in the sensation, and leaned into him, kissing him back with equal fervor and passion. Her nails dug into his shoulders, as her body pressed against the hardened length of his manhood. It was as if a feral spirit had taken over her body.

His lips moved to her neck, throat, and then down to her breasts. Isabelle threaded her fingers through his hair, pressing his head closer. His palm reached up to cup her breasts, his thumb running over the hardened peek, driving her body into a frenzy. "Oh," she gasped, her breath coming quickly as she pulled his head back up to kiss her lips. Their tongues danced around each other, mimicking what their bodies truly craved. Isabelle moved her hips in a gyrating motion against his hardened length, showing him what she needed.

"Och, lass, if ye want me tae stop, ye had best tell me now," Madden groaned, his forehead leaning against hers. His breath came quickly showing her that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

"I dinnae want ye tae stop," she answered, leaning her head back to look him in the eyes. "Dinnae stop."

That was all of the encouragement that he needed. Lifting her up into his arms, he carried her over to the bed. Setting her down upon the edge, he took a step back and removed his shirt. The room was too dimly lit to make out every detail, but no amount of darkness could have hidden the sheer masculine power of his body. Madden's chest, shoulders, arms, and abdomen were pure defined muscle. He stepped back towards her and she reached out to run her hands over the exposed skin.

"It is yer turn," he murmured with a smile.

Isabelle looked up into his eyes, then lifted her arms. Grasping her dress by the skirt, he pulled upwards and lifted it up over her head. He let it fall to the floor, leaving her standing in nothing but her shift. Lowering his head, he kissed each breast, rasping each nipple gently with his teeth through the thin fabric. Ripples of pleasure spread over Isabelle's body. Kissing his way back up to her lips, he caressed her, then pulled her shift up over her head and let it fall to the floor with her dress.

Taking a step back, he let his eyes travel the length of her body. Isabelle worried about him seeing the bruises, but when she looked down at herself, she was relieved to see that the dimness of the fire's light covered them, casting them in shadow. "Bonnie," he breathed, as he let the rest of his clothing fall to the floor and stood in front of her in all of his naked glory.

Isabelle's eyes widened at the size of his hardened manhood standing erect in the air between them. "Ye are a braw lad tae be sure," she replied breathily.

He grinned at her, then stepped forward and lifted her up into his arms, laying her down on the bed.

Placing his body over hers, he reclaimed her lips. Isabelle could feel the tip of him pressed against the inside of her thigh and she moved her hips, pressing harder against it. His shaft jerked in reply, coming to nestle against the soft curls of her nether hair. Madden's head lowered from her lips down to her breasts. He licked and suckled each nipple in turn, driving her into a frenzy of madness as she clutched his head.

"Madden," she breathed.

"Dae ye wish fer me tae stop?"

"Nae, dinnae stop!"

Smiling, he lowered his head to her breasts once more, then continued to kiss his way down to her nether curls. Flicking his tongue out between her lower lips, he caressed the hidden pearl within. Isabelle nearly came off of the bed. She clutched at his shoulders, digging her fingers into his muscles as he began to stroke the length of her cunt with his tongue, then sucked the bud into his mouth as he had done her nipples. He circled his tongue around it again and again, then pressed it inside her, only to move back to circling it. When he felt her legs quivering uncontrollably and she started moaning his name he stopped.

"Madden, I need ye," she breathed, panting.

Coming up to hover over her once more, Madden looked deep into her eyes. He wanted to be inside her when she fell over the edge, but he had to ascertain something beforehand. "Are ye a virgin, lass?"

She shook her head. "I am nae a virgin," Isabelle answered honestly.

He nodded. There was no judgement in his face. "Good, I didnae wish tae take that from ye or cause ye pain."

"I am nae a virgin, but what experiences I have had have nae been pleasant," she admitted. "It has never once been pleasurable."

"We will be changing that this night," Madden replied, caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. "Two people lying together in this way should always be pleasurable."

Having ensured that he would not cause her pain, he thrust his manhood into her, filling her in a single stroke.

Isabelle gasped at the sudden wave of sensation that coursed through her as he began to move inside of her. He reclaimed her lips as he kept thrusting inside of her, using one of his hands to hold himself up, while the other hand teased her nipples. The myriad of sensations caused Isabelle's head to spin. She had never felt so much pleasure in her entire life.

"I didnae ken that it could feel this way," she gasped against his lips.

"Just wait," he breathed in promise as he began to move faster inside of her. As he picked up speed, the feelings inside of Isabelle grew and grew until she feared she might explode.

"Madden!" she started to cry out his name, and quickly covered her mouth. She knew that she needed something from him, but not what. Within the next moment, Isabelle fell over the cliff of pleasure into blissful oblivion.

Madden followed after her, spilling his seed deep inside of her, not able to stop himself. "Isabelle," he breathed, leaning his forehead against hers as he emptied himself into her. Removing himself from her, he laid down on the bed beside her, drawing her into his arms. "How dae ye feel, lass?"

"Good," Isabelle answered with a pleased smile. "I didnae ken that it could feel that way."

"It should always feel that way," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "It saddens me that ye have nae been pleasured as ye should have been." He did not ask any questions about who she had been with or why, he simply accepted her as she was.

"Is it always this way fer ye?"

Madden lay in thought for a moment, then shook his head. "It is always pleasurable, but being with ye was better than most."

Isabelle felt some small amount of pleasure at his words. "Thank ye," she whispered.

Madden looked down into her face, his eyes meeting hers. "Ye should be pleasured every day of yer life. A lass such as ye should never be forced tae bed a stranger tae find pleasure. It is I who should thank ye fer the honor of having shared yer bed, and I dae," he murmured lowering his head to kiss her softly.

Isabelle kissed him back, softly, sweetly. A sound from outside of the door reminded her that they were not truly alone. She wished like anything that he could stay there with her through the night, but she knew that he could not. "I am sorry, but ye must go," she whispered.

He nodded in understanding. Rising from the bed, he retrieved his clothing from the floor. Once he was dressed, he bent over the bed and kissed her one last time. "Ye are bonnie in every way." He moved towards the door and panic seized Isabelle's heart.

"Ye cannae go through the door," she reminded him. "Me fellow clansmen would be certain tae see ye."

Madden nodded in understanding, then moved back towards the window. "I would nae wish tae be responsible fer ruining yer reputation."

Sighing in relief, Isabelle arose from the bed, donning her shift. Walking over to the window, she bid him a final farewell. "Go carefully," she advised, as he lowered himself over the side of the window and found a foothold on the wall. Isabelle watched as he made his way back down to the table and chairs below, then dismounted to the ground. Raising his hand in farewell, he smiled up at her one last time, then disappeared into the darkness leaving nothing but the memory of himself and the throbbing between her legs.