Chapter One
“By this time tomorrow, ye will be someone else’s problem,” Madden Kinnaird teased his best friend, Keelin Macrae, as she stuffed yet another bannock into her mouth, washing it down with large gulps of ale. She was drawing quite a few stares from the other men in the room, some of judgmental disgust, others of interest. Keelin was a beautiful young woman, but she was not what one might call a lady of delicate sensibilities. “Ye eat like one of the animals in the stable.” He laughed as she kicked him under the table.
“Ye will miss me and ye ken it all tae well,” she retorted, wiping her mouth with a cloth.
They had stopped at an inn for the night to allow the horses to rest and to eat on their way to visit Keelin’s cousin, the Laird Arran MacKay. Keelin had been at Castle Rósmire for the last several months assisting her sister, Edith, with her newborn infant son Teigue. Madden worked as a warrior and advisor for Edith’s husband, the Laird Braden Hamilton, and had been entrusted with Keelin’s care as she returned home to the rest of her family. Along the way, she had requested to visit her cousin Arran. Madden, unable to refuse her anything, had acquiesced.
“Aye, I will at that,” he admitted. His eye was caught by a passing barmaid with an ample bosom and hips that were made for grabbing ahold of. He turned his head, watching her walk away.
“Ye only wish tae be rid o’ me so that ye can go about chasing after loose skirts,” Keelin called him out on his well-known womanizing behavior. “It has nothing tae dae with me table manners, or lack thereof.”
Madden turned his attention back to Keelin. “I cannae rightly be chasing after the lassies when I have ye in tow, now can I? Women tend nae tae want tae kiss me when ye are sitting there giving them yer judgmental glare.”
Keelin laughed. “Good. Perhaps it will keep ye alive longer. Many a wandering cockerel has met his conclusion at the end of a blade.”
Madden shook his head. “I dinnae have me way with married women. Ye ken that.”
“Husbands are nae the only ways that ye could die if ye are letting yer tauger rule yer choices,” she pointed out, raising her brow in judgement. “Ye would nae be near as braw a lad with the pox.”
“Kee!” Madden chastised. “If yer faither and maither heard ye speak with such language, they would have both of our heads.”
Keelin shook her head. “Me family ken how I am well enough. They ken how ye are as well.” She cocked her head to the side studying his face for a moment. “I ken ye are nae as ye were afore ye left fer France. Many a time Braden has said ye are slower tae anger now and more prone tae thinking things through. Ye have changed.”
Madden knew she was right. He nodded in agreement, accepting the compliment. “For the better, I hope,” he murmured, thinking back to all of the pain that had been the catalyst for the changes that he had made.
“Aye fer the most part, ye are better. Yer distrust of any woman that is nae as a sister tae ye, however, is going tae cause ye more trouble than nae,” she warned.
Madden shrugged. “I would give up women altogether, but alas I am nae a monk. A man has his needs.”
Keelin snorted. “Nae, ye are nae a monk tae be certain. Nae a man or woman alive would ever mistake ye fer one.” She gave him a sympathetic look. She did not know everything that had happened in France or why he felt the way that he did about the feminine sex, but she knew that it had to have been something terrible to alter him as it had. “I dinnae expect ye tae be a monk. I simply urge caution when choosing a bed mate.”
Madden nodded. “I have heard ye, Kee, and I thank ye fer the caring o’ me immortal soul.”
Keelin laughed. “I dinnae ken about yer soul, but I would rather have ye among the living as nae. Pox-riddled in a grave is nae a good look fer any man, even one as bonnie as ye.”
Madden made a face. Not wanting to think about France, women, or the pox, he attempted to change the subject. “What about ye? I saw how ye were with the guards at the castle.”
Keelin shook her head, a mischievous light in her eyes. “There is nothing tae ken. Me virtue is intact. I have done nothing tae compromise meself.”
“Keep it that way,” Madden advised, giving her a look of warning. “Ye dinnae want tae be forced tae live yer life with a man that is undeserving o’ ye.”
Keelin cocked her head to the side, her brow raised in question. “And what of ye? The same fate could await ye. Dae ye nae fear getting a woman with child and being forced tae wed her at the point of a blade?”
Madden shook his head. “I will nae wed.”
Keelin frowned at him in concern. “Ye would nae leave a lass tae be dishonored. I ken ye better than that.”
Madden shook his head. “Nae, I would nae abandon her or the child. I would care fer the bairn, but I would nae wed the lass. I would arrange fer her tae wed another more suitable husband and pay the dowry and the bride price.” He knew that it made him sound heartless, but the exact opposite was true. He would not saddle any lass with a loveless marriage. His parents had truly loved one another, and he had sworn to his mother on her death bed that he would not wed for anything less than the truest of loves. As he no longer believed that such a thing was possible for him, he had resolved himself to never marry.
Keelin’s brow wrinkled in concern. She held his eyes in sympathy. “Ye have changed. What happened in France, Madden? Why dae ye never speak about it?”
Madden had known that this conversation was coming. Both Braden and Keelin had been asking a great many questions about his time in France in the year since his return. Neither of them, despite being his dearest friends in all of the world, knew the fullness of his story and it bothered them. He could see the concern in their eyes every time that they asked him about it. He knew that they wanted to help him, to ease the grief of his mother’s passing, but in truth there was nothing that either of them could do.
When his mother had fallen ill, Madden had taken her to a physician in France who was believed to be a miracle worker. While there, he had fallen in love with his mother’s nurse. They had shared a bed together, spoken of a future together. He had planned to wed her, but then had discovered that she was wed to another already and that she had been using him to make her husband jealous. She had shared his bed to get revenge for her husband having been unfaithful to her. Shortly thereafter, Madden’s mother had died. Madden had taken his sorrow and heartbreak out on the enemies of France, working as a mercenary until a near death experience had made him see the light and pushed him to return home.
“Me maither died,” Madden snapped, not wanting to talk about it further. He knew that his voice was harsher than was necessary, but every time that the subject was broached it felt as if he was drowning in the pain all over again. He had worked hard within himself to move on from it as best as he could. He did not appreciate being forced to feel it all again. “What more dae ye want?”
“Madden,” Keelin said his name, her tone was firm but compassionate. “I ken that yer maither died, but the distrust that ye are carrying around with ye was nae caused by yer maither.”
Madden shook his head. “Nae, it is nae. She was a good woman, and I will nae have anyone believe otherwise by me actions or have her memory dishonored.”
Keelin nodded knowingly. “Ye are going tae have tae tell me what happened at some point. Ye cannae live yer life with such pain inside of ye and nae once speak of it tae anyone. It will eat ye alive from the inside.”
Madden sighed. “I am sorry, Kee. I didnae mean tae be rude. I dinnae care tae speak of it.”
“Was there a woman in France? Someone who hurt ye? Someone who was unfaithful?”
Madden looked up at Keelin in surprise. “How did ye ken such a thing?”
She gave him a knowing look. “The distrust that ye brought back with ye could only be born of such a thing.”
Madden looked at Keelin with new admiration. “Ye are wiser than ye look.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” she retorted, giving him a warning look not to argue with her if he had meant it in any other way.
“Ye should,” he nodded, smiling.
“Tell me what happened in France,” Keelin requested, her tone leaving no doubt that she felt it was long past time. “Tell me what happened with this woman.”
Madden sighed but nodded in surrender. He owed her the truth. It was not kind of him to let her fret and worry. “As ye well ken, when me mother was ill, I took her tae see a physician in France,” he began.
“Aye,” Keelin nodded in confirmation.
“While we were there, I formed an attachment tae her nurse.”
“An attachment?” Keelin eyed him inquisitively.
“I fell in love with her,” Madden admitted grudgingly.
Keelin nodded. “So, what happened?”
Madden shrugged his shoulders. “She was married.”
Keelin’s brows arched in censure. “Ye did nae ken?”
“Nae, I did nae ken that she was another man’s wife.” He would have been insulted had it been anyone else but Keelin that had asked. “In fairness, I did nae ask. I simply assumed that when she crawled in tae me bed that she was free tae dae so.”
Keelin gave him a sympathetic look. “Did ye wish tae wed her yerself?”
Madden nodded. “Aye, I did. That is how I discovered that she was wed tae another. Soon thereafter me maither died. I was destroyed and was nae good fer anything but fighting and drinking and whoring me way through France.”
Keelin nodded in understanding. “That is why it took ye so long tae return.”
Madden nodded, sighing. “Aye, I could nae come back tae me life here with how I was feeling. I was destructive tae meself and tae others. It took nearly dying fer me tae see sense and tae return home.”
“I am glad ye did come home, otherwise we would never have met. Ye are a sight better of a companion tae travel with tae escort me home than an auld stodgy guard” Keelin smiled at him in compassionate understanding. “I thank ye fer finally telling me the truth.”
“I would appreciate it if ye kept what I have told ye tae yerself,” he requested, not wishing his pain to be known far and wide. “I will tell Braden about what happened in France, when and if I feel that he needs tae ken it.”
Keelin nodded. “Yer secrets are safe with me, Madden. Ye ken that.”
“Aye, I dae.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “I thank ye fer yer discretion.”
“Always.” She reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
Wishing to change the subject, Madden turned the conversation towards Keelin. “Tell me of this cousin of yers.”
Keelin smiled at the thought of her favorite cousin. “Arran is me maither’s first cousin, but they are as close tae one another as braither and sister. They grew up together.”
“Ah, that is why I have heard ye call him Uncle Arran.”
“Aye,” Keelin nodded. “He has been more of an uncle tae me than any other man ever has.”
“I have heard things about the MacKay lairds of the past from yer cousin’s line,” Madden mused. “If their reputation has any truth tae it, they were nae all good men.”
Keelin shook her head. “Arran is a good man, unlike his faither. Ye and Arran both have quite a lot in common. He fought in France as well fer many years. When both of his parents died on the same day, Arran’s sister sent word fer him, and he came home. He has done well fer the clan since becoming laird.”
“How did his parents die?”
Keelin frowned at the memory. “Uncle Rory, Arran’s father, was drunk. He stumbled and fell dragging his wife, me Aunt Ella, down with him. He hit his head on the stone of the hearth landing on top of her as he fell. He died instantly. She died a week later, having never awakened. They were visiting a friend at the time. It was so sudden. We never got tae say goodbye.”
Madden reached out and patted her hand in compassion. “I am sorry fer yer loss.”
Keelin shook her head. “I was never fond of Uncle Rory, but I loved me Aunt Ella very much. She was me maither’s sister, we all miss her.”
Madden nodded in understanding. “I have seen the drink make men dae terrible things.”
“It was a bloody awful waste of a life,” Keelin replied, anger in her eyes.
“What of Arran’s sister? What became of her?”
“She is married tae the laird of her grandmother’s clan. I have nae seen her in years. We exchange the occasional letter, but that is it. We were once quite good friends when we were children. I miss her.”
“Perhaps ye will see each other when we arrive at her braither’s castle.”
Keelin shrugged her shoulders. “I doubt it. From what I have heard, her husband does nae allow her tae visit her braither very often.”
Madden frowned. He did not care for men who were overly controlling of those under their care. “A lass should nae be kept from her family. I saw the effect being estranged from her family had on me maither. She and me faither were not given their families’ blessings tae wed. They tried tae forget one another but they could nae. They married against their families’ wishes and were shunned fer it. That is how they came tae live on Hamilton lands. Me maither loved me faither, and they had a braw life together, but when he died, all of the family that she had left was me. It was nae an easy time fer her.”
“Now she is with yer faither, and they are happy together once more.”
“Aye,” Madden nodded. “They are. They were good people.”
“I am sorry that ye dinnae have a family of yer own.” Keelin gave him a sympathetic look.
Madden shrugged his shoulders. “I dae have family. I have ye, and Braden, and now Edith and their wee bairn.”
“Aye, ye have us,” Keelin smiled, nodding in reassurance. “But I still believe that we should find ye a wife tae make ye wee bairns of yer own.” She lifted a brow wiggling it suggestively. “Perhaps yon barmaid? She had birthing hips.”
Madden shook his head, laughing. “I dinnae believe that the world is ready fer me tae have bairns. Can ye imagine the trouble the wee lads and lassies would get in tae? I dinnae believe it tae be a wise course of action.
Keelin gave him a look of disagreement but did not push him further. “As ye wish. It is yer life.” Stretching, she pushed away from the table and stood. “I am away tae bed.”
“Ye dinnae want tae join me fer a dram?”
Keelin shook her head. “Nae, I am tired tae the bone and wish tae be well rested when we arrive at Arran’s castle. Besides, ye will have better luck in finding a bed partner if ye dinnae have me tagging along.”
Madden gave her a reproachful look. “Ye dinnae behave as a lady is expected tae behave, nor speak as one is expected tae speak.”
Keelin laughed. “I never claimed tae be a lady. The way I behave and speak is why ye adore me as ye dae. I wouldnae be nearly as much fun if I behaved as a proper lady should.”
Madden chuckled. “I cannae deny it.”
“I will see ye in the morning,” Keelin promised. Standing, she laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, then left the table and climbed the stairs to her room. He watched her until she was out if sight to make certain that none of the other men in the room gave her a hard time. Madden had ensured that she had been given a room with a sturdy bar over the door so that he could rest assured of her safety. His room was next to hers as a secondary means of protection.
Throwing back the last of his ale, he stood and left the inn to go and check on the horses. He eyed the tavern down the street considering his options for a bed companion. The barmaid had been attractive, but she was the innkeeper’s daughter and that could get complicated. He did not wish to be barred from the inn when they were in need of rest. They would most likely need to stay there again on the way through to Keelin’s parents’ lands. If he were being completely honest with himself, he was too tired to be chasing after skirt.
It is tae bad a bonnie lass could nae simply drop in tae me lap as a gift from God without requiring any effort on me part tae bring her tae me bed. He chuckled at the ridiculous image and entered the stables.
After checking on the horses, he made his way around to the side of the building where the innkeeper had placed a table and chairs for his guests. Lowering himself down onto one of them, he leaned back and closed his eyes. The sounds from the inn filtered through the walls, men talking, laughing, and shouting. There were pots and pans banging around in the kitchen. A dog barked in the distance, setting off another dog in response, which set them both to howling. Madden doubted that he would sleep very well. When traveling alone he would usually sleep out in the open, but with Keelin, he had not wanted to risk her safety.
Keelin was a good traveling companion. It had been a trouble-free ride with pleasant conversation. Madden looked forward to meeting her cousin, the Laird Arran MacKay, and exchanging war stories. Keelin had said that they had a lot in common. They had both lost their parents. They had both fought in France. They both cared about Keelin and her family. Madden figured that on those commonalities alone that they could strike up an amiable acquaintance.
Lost in his own thoughts, he did not have any warning when a large lump of warm flesh and fabric came tumbling down from above him and landed hard onto his lap. “Och!” He shouted in protest as his eyes flew open and he came face to face with a dark-haired, grey-eyed lass. Within the next breath, before Madden had a chance to react, she squarely punched him in the face.
“Unhand me!”
Chapter Two
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.
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