Chapter Twenty

She could not get Finlay off her. She pushed and shoved at him, but his hands were on her breast and then her thighs, and the material of her gown was rising. She screamed.

And then she was being shaken.

“Wake up, lass!”

Maisie blinked her eyes, and there was Graeme. He was leaning over her, eyes bloodshot, dark stubble thick on his face and circles under his eyes. She forced the nightmare away, wanting to forget it.

“Have ye slept at all?” she asked.

“A bit,” he said, releasing her as he sat up. “But dunnae fash yerself about me. How are ye?”

How was she?

She thought about his question as she started to sit up. Graeme scrambled to his feet and moved behind her, rearranging pillows for her to lean against. His concern made her smile.

How was she?

She felt as if she’d been in battle, and she supposed she had—for her innocence. It was a battle she would have lost if Graeme had not come upon her and Finlay. “Thank ye,” she said, watching him walk toward the fire grate to stoke it. She was glad to have a room warmed by a fire again. No doubt he was responsible for that.

He turned to her, fire poker in hand. “What are ye thanking me for?”

“For rescuing me, and for all ye have done here,” she said, sweeping her hand around the room as she took everything in. There were fresh rushes on the floor, and two clean, untattered gowns hung at the door of the wardrobe. Someone had even put a large washtub in the room so that she could bathe herself here in privacy. She could hardly believe she’d slept through all the commotion this had to have caused. Then again, she’d been exhausted.

“Nay,” he said, shaking his head, setting down the fire poker and picking up, to her surprise, a tray laden with food that she had not noticed. “Ye should nae be thanking me. If I’d shown ye the respect ye deserved and nae acted as if yer da’s and brother’s crimes were yers—”

She pressed a finger to his lips. “Let us nae dredge up what’s past right now.”

He grinned, and it was such a lighthearted, carefree look that her own heart felt a bit less burdened. He brought the tray to her and set it beside her. “Ye need to eat.” She eyed the trencher as he sat on the bed beside her. “Ye’ve gained the respect of the lasses in the kitchen, so ye dunnae have to be concerned about any more pranks.”

“What of Lavina?”

“She was horrified by what Finlay did. She wanted to cause ye misery, as she is still dwelling in her own, but she did nae wish to cause ye harm. Eat,” he said again and then waved at a full goblet of wine on the stand beside her bed. “And drink.”

She was parched, so she picked up the goblet and took a long draw from it. The wine warmed a path from her throat to her belly, and she let out a sigh before setting the goblet down and picking up a minced pie. She took a large bite and let out a sound of contentment, to which Graeme chuckled.

“What will happen to Finlay?” she asked.

“He’s been banished from the clan. He’s already gone.”

“Yer clan is going to hate me even more.”

“Nay. Attacking a woman is the worst sort of cowardice, Maisie. And his doing that made me realize I was seeking revenge at any price. I—” Graeme scrubbed a hand over his face. “I dunnae wish ye to be the price of my revenge. I ken the actions of yer brother and father are nae yer fault, and I dunnae hold ye responsible. And, well, I will give ye my trust as best I can.”

Hearing his willingness to try, hearing him tell her that her safety was more important than his revenge, she understood her feelings for him could not be tempered, no matter how hard she tried. He had not said he was lowering his guard, but he was. She would do the same and pray, for both their sakes, that whatever was between them would be strong enough to survive what might come their way. She wanted to truly understand him, and for him to understand her, so they could grow together and not apart.

With this in mind, she said, “My da hanged himself when he learned he would lose his head for his crimes.” She appreciated that as he looked at her, his eyes were gentle and contemplative and did not hold contempt for her father. “I found him.” His expression grew somber. “He was in the courtyard swaying in the wind. I tried to get him down myself.” Graeme squeezed her fingers, and she blinked down at his hand over hers, wondering when he’d placed it there. “My sister came into the courtyard and screamed and screamed, so that I wanted to hit her just to shut her up.” Graeme nodded, giving her an understanding look. “My brother came next, along with the head of the kitchens. My brother and a guard got him down.”

Her gaze found Graeme’s once more, and she saw that his face held nothing but empathy for her. “I was so angry at him, so shocked, and so shamed, but I could nae hate him. I still kinnae. He was my da.”

“I understand,” Graeme said.

“He was a verra good da to me and my siblings, and I realized after I learned what he had done, people are nae just good or bad. We have both in us.” She sucked in a breath as the sentence left her mouth, thinking of her brother.

Graeme gave her a knowing look now, but thankfully, he did not remark upon her brother. He cleared his throat. “Nae any of us are the villain in our own story, Maisie.”

She frowned. “What do ye mean?”

“I mean, I dunnae think, unless there is something truly wrong with yer soul, that men do evil for evil’s sake. They convince themselves that what they are doing is right. They tell themselves a story, and they tell it so many times, and for so long, that they believe it.”

“Then how it is it that some men dunnae do the sort of horrid things my da did?” she asked, wiping at the tears that were suddenly tracking down their face.

Graeme moved so he was next to her on the bed, setting her trencher of food on the table as he did. He slipped his arm around her and pulled her into his solid, warm embrace. “Mayhap they have strong voices of reason in their ears. Others who will disagree with them. Fate. Love. There are a million reasons, Maisie.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, and she was struck by how right it felt.

“We are alike in a way I did nae realize,” he said.

She lifted her head to look at him. “How?”

“We both have deep scars. Mine are just visible.”

She slowly raised her hand and traced the scars on his face. “Tell me why ye were given this one,” she said, tracing the scar on his face she’d not seen him receive.

“I got this one for the same reason as the one ye saw Bernard give me,” he said, pointing to the one that started on his forehead and slashed down the right side of his face. “It was the first time Eppie and I tried to escape. Bernard was flogging us, and I could nae stop myself from trying to protect Eppie.”

They wiled away the day exchanging stories of their childhoods. She learned when Graeme had free time, which wasn’t often, he would help the monks cook the meals, so he actually knew his way around the kitchen, and she learned that he had never slept in a bed until he and Eppie had returned to his home, at least not that he could remember.

Graeme stayed with her all day and night, never once leaving, and so she appreciated that he was willing to give this time to her when she was certain he had much more pressing clan business to see to. Several times during the day, men stopped by to ask him things, and he would speak with them just outside the door, reassuring her that he was within earshot.

When the supper horn blew, she expected him to go down to the great hall, and she was dreading it, but a knock came at the door, and Sasha came in carrying a trencher laden with food, much like the one that had been taken out after breakfast and lunch.

She handed the tray to Graeme and then asked him if she could have a moment to speak to Maisie. Graeme gave Maisie a questioning look, and she was touched that he was so concerned. She nodded, and he stepped out.

“Might I sit for a moment?” Sasha asked.

Maisie nodded.

Once Sasha was settled, she said, “I want ye to ken I did nae have anything to do with the bugs on yer trencher, nor did I have any notion my brother was going to attack ye.”

Maisie thought about her own father and how she’d had no idea of the other side of him he kept hidden, and she nodded. “I believe ye. Were ye the one who gave me the pick to dig with?”

“Aye. I decided anyone as determined to prove themselves as ye could nae be all bad. It seems Graeme has decided that, too,” Sasha said, a teasing note in her voice.

Maisie felt her cheeks heat. “We shall see. There is a lot that stands between us.”

“Such as?” Sasha asked, and Maisie realized the clan at large probably did not know of Bernard and that Graeme and his brother were trying to find him to prove Maisie’s brother duplicitous.

“He believes my brother guilty of crimes, and I dunnae. He is currently trying to find a man he thinks will prove my brother’s guilt, and I think he will prove my brother’s innocence.”

“That does nae seem like much of a divide to me.”

“It does nae?”

Sasha shook her head. “If yer brother is guilty, then ye’ll have to accept it, because that’s what’s right, and if ye dunnae, ye would choose blind loyalty over truth, honor, and mayhap love. ’Tis a steep price to pay to be loyal to someone at all costs, especially someone who hid who they truly were from ye.”

“Aye, it is,” Maisie said.

“And if yer brother is nae guilty, Graeme will have to release his need for revenge or he will be choosing it over truth, honor, and mayhap love,” Sasha said. “How will ye chose?”

Maisie didn’t hesitate, now knowing the truth deep in her bones. “I will choose truth, honor, and love over blind loyalty.”

“That’s a wise choice,” Sasha said, smiling.

“What if Graeme chooses nae to let go of revenge?” Maisie whispered, voicing her fear.

“Then he is nae the man of yer soul. The man of yer soul will choose ye over all.”

One day rolled into two and then three, and Graeme did not leave her side, except briefly on the third day to go down to the loch and wash. He slept on the floor by her bed, he took his meals in the room with her, and he even attempted to brush her hair for her, though she had yet to do more than have a bird bath, so her hair was a tangled, dirty mess. She knew she needed to bathe, but she feared the water would trigger the memories of Finlay attacking her.

When she awoke that afternoon from a nap, she sat up to see a dressing screen had been placed around the wash basin, and between two slivers of the screen, Graeme was dumping a steaming bucket of water into it. When he emerged and saw her, he smiled. “I thought today ye might want to bathe, so I had water boiled and brought up for ye.”

Her heart began to pound a hard beat. “I dunnae think I am ready.”

“I did nae think I was ready to get in the water, either, after I was nearly drowned in it, but Eppie forced me in, and that’s what I must do for ye.”

“Ye nearly drowned?”

Graeme nodded, lifted his shirt over his head, threw it on the ground and turned so his back was to her. She stared at the scars crisscrossing the broad expanse of his back. “The head monk at the abbey—”

“Atholl?”

“Aye, Atholl,” Graeme replied, not turning around yet, “thought to beat the devil out of me when I was a child. I had a great deal of energy, I could nae stay still long, and I was verra inquisitive and asked a lot of questions. He thought my behavior sinful. When his beatings did nae change the basic nature of who I was, he decided he would drown the devil out of me, and thus, he verra nearly drowned me. He would have, I think, had Gaufrid nae come along and intervened. I did nae want to get in the water after that,” he said, turning to her and blinking. “Why are ye crying?”

She raised her hands to her cheeks and was shocked to feel them wet. “I did nae realize I was, but I suppose it’s because I kinnae stand the thought of the atrocities ye and Eppie had to bear. If I could take them from ye, I would.”

Graeme walked slowly to her and stopped directly in front of her, barely a hairsbreadth between them. He reached out and cupped her cheek, and the touch was so tender, her heart jolted with it. “I ken ye would,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “Let me take some of yer fear from ye. I will be right here on the other side of this screen if ye need me.”

“Do I smell that bad?” she teased.

“Aye, lass,” he teased back, “ye do.”

She smacked his arm playfully, looked to the washtub, and then said, “Will ye stand on the other side of the screen and sing to me?”

“Aye. I’ll do whatever ye need.”

She nodded, took the hand he held out to her, and let him help her off the bed and lead her to the dressing screen. She slipped behind them, and he closed them up behind her. Then, as she undressed, he started to sing the ditty she was now familiar with, about the fairies romping through the woods.

She put one foot into the water, but she froze, the memories rushing back. Finlay on her, pinning her down and touching her. Hitting her. “I kinnae!” she cried out and yanked her foot out of the water.

“What if I come beside the wash basin and hold yer hand until ye feel calm. I could keep my eyes closed,” Graeme offered.

“Ye would do that for me?” she asked, her heart squeezing at his thoughtfulness.

“Aye, lass. That and so much more.”

“All right. Come in.”

True to his word, he entered the dressing screen with his eyes closed and waving his hands in front of him in a comical manner. She was surprised by how his presence immediately loosened the knots of tension that had formed in her neck and stomach. She stepped into the water and barely contained a moan of pleasure as she lowered herself in the cocooning warmth.

“I’m ready,” she said, holding out her hand.

Graeme lowered himself by the washtub, and she took his hand as he searched for hers. When his warm strong fingers curled around hers and he began to sing again, she sat there, staring at his strong profile, the scars, and the smile on his face. A feeling began to swell in her chest when she thought about all the tenderness and care he had shown her this week, and she sucked in a breath. She was in love with him. There had been no choice but to give him her heart; he had taken it without her even knowing it.

Her heart raced with the knowledge as she said, “Ye can release my hand now.”

He did so immediately. “Do ye want me to stay?” he asked without opening his eyes.

She wanted... she wanted... what did she want? A flash of memory of Finlay’s mouth upon hers took her for a moment, she squeezed her eyes shut, and when she opened them, she found Graeme’s brow puckered with genuine concern, and she knew suddenly what she wanted.

“I want ye to kiss me,” she blurted.

His gaze flew open, and the green of his eyes burned bright with a desire that took her breath away. “Ye want me to kiss ye?” he asked, disbelief in his tone.

A blush heated her cheeks. “Only if ye want to.”

“If I want to?” he asked, and now his voice reverberated incredulity. “’Tis all I can think about every time I look upon yer lips.” He reached over the washtub and gently took her face in his hands. Then, leaning forward, he traced his tongue ever so slowly along the crease of her lips, sending shivers of desire racing through her. His mouth brushed hers, and the pit of her stomach swirled with wild emotion. She placed her hands on his shoulders as his lips met hers, devouring, demanding, and promising pleasure she’d never known.

She parted her lips, eager to taste him, and his tongue delved inside to tangle with hers. He kissed her in long, slow pulls of her bottom and upper lips, building a burning need for him, so that she was clutching at his shoulders. His mouth left hers to kiss a fiery path down her neck and then to her chest, and she could not contain herself any longer. She let out a moan of need and found herself scooped up with a swish out of the water and against his muscled chest.

His eyes locked with hers and bore into her. “I’ll stop if ye wish—”

“Dunnae ye dare,” she interrupted, knowing without a doubt that she loved him and she wanted to give herself to him body and soul. There was no room for hesitation. There was no room for caution. There was only room for hope that if she gave him her love, he would give her his in return and somehow, some way, things would work out.

He carried her to the bed, laid her gently on top of the coverlet near the edge of the bed, and spread her thighs gently as he kneeled before her. Before she could inquire what he was doing, his tongue was tracing a line along one side of her inner thigh and then the other.

She bucked up in surprise, gasping. “What are ye doing?”

“Introducing ye to pleasure,” he replied. His fingers found her core, where only she had ever touched herself, and he parted her to trace his tongue up her center to the secret spot she’d accidentally discovered years before. But the pleasure the touch of his tongue sent through her was nothing she had ever experienced with her own hands. Need shot through her veins and pulsed at her core, making her body grow tight and hot.

She moaned his name, her eyes locked on his as he continued his exploration. Despite her initial surprise, she found herself responding to him in ways that she’d never expected. She arched her back, pushing her hips toward him, silently begging for more.

He didn’t disappoint. His tongue danced along her most sensitive spots, causing waves of pleasure to crash over her like a stormy sea. His fingers gently probed her, finding the spot that sent shock waves through her body. She cried out his name, and he swirled his tongue faster until she felt she would burst with need. Pressure built, and when he sucked at her throbbing spot, something in her exploded, sending her over a cliff she had not known was there. Her center pulsed and contracted, and yet, she needed more.

“Please,” she begged, wanting all of him.

As she lay there, panting and trembling with need, he shifted on the bed and positioned himself between her legs. With a deep breath, he slowly began to enter her. At first, it was just the tip of his manhood that breached her entrance, a tiny invasion that was both painful and pleasurable at the same time. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, trying to relax and accept him fully.

He paused for a moment, waiting for her to adjust to his size before continuing the slow penetration. With each thrust, he pushed farther and deeper until he was fully inside her. She felt stretched and exposed, but the feeling of fullness was intoxicating. She moaned his name again, her body trembling as she felt him join with her completely.

He began to move, pulling back slightly before thrusting forward again. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through her body, building with each passing second. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, urging him to move faster. His movements became more frenzied, matching the growing intensity of her desire.

The room filled with the sounds of their passion—their heavy breathing, their moans of enjoyment, and the slapping of skin on skin. He leaned down to kiss her, his lips soft and tender against hers as he continued to move inside her. She clung to him, her hands now gripping his shoulders tightly as she lost herself in the sensations coursing through her body. As the intensity of their lovemaking reached new heights, she found herself unable to hold back any longer. Her body trembled and shook, her moans growing louder and more desperate. Ecstasy built within her like a storm ready to break.

He increased his pace, thrusting deeper and harder into her, matching the rhythm of her body. His hands gripped her hips, holding her close. When she could take no more, she cried out his name, her body convulsing. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her as he tensed, let out a guttural sound, and then the warmth of his release filled her completely.

Their bodies slowed, still locked together as they caught their breath. With him still inside her, lying face-to-face, hearts pounding against each other, she knew that she was forever bound to him no matter what came. The passion and understanding they shared transcended their opposing beliefs and the divide they may cause.

He slowly withdrew from her and rolled off the bed, and she watched as he made his way to the wash basin with quick, sure strides. He dipped a cloth in the water, wrung it, and carried it back. His intense gaze held hers as he kneeled beside her and then gently cleaned her. When he was finished, he threw the rag on the floor and came back to lie beside her on the bed.

His head rested on his hand as he stared at her, and he traced his finger back and forth over her stomach, up between her breasts, and over her sensitive nipples, finally making his way to her lips. His fingers left her lips, and his mouth found hers for a long, penetrating kiss.

When he pulled back, he said, “There is nae breaking the handfasting now.”

It wasn’t the declaration of love she would’ve liked, but with his past, she knew how hard that would be for him. It would come. It had to. She pressed her lips to his, heart banging against her chest, and when she pulled away, she gave all she had and said, “I love ye. I have fallen in love with ye.”

A pounding filled the room, making her jerk and ripping her attention and Graeme’s from each other to the door. “Who is it?” Graeme asked, his tone short and irritated.

“’Tis Eppie.”

“Go away,” Graeme bellowed. “We will take our supper in here.”

“Maisie’s sister is here as well as the Buchannan. They’ve come to check on Maisie.”