Highland Promise (3 page)

“Aye, I know.  I never meant any of this.”  Malcom felt defeated.  “I’ll not have her in my bed again Allen and I’ll see to finding her a suitable match when I return home.  Will that settle this between us then?  I can’t have hard feelin’s between us.  I need to trust that you’ll protect Anne.”

“Aye, that will settle it.  Take my horse, clear your head and don’t fret over Anne.  She is a kind lass and no trouble to keep watch over.  How long are ye stayin’?”

“Two days.  I need to get back.”  Malcom shook his head.  “I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“And why did you feel the need to come up today?”  Allen grinned as if the answer was written on Malcom’s face.  “I think it will all work out just fine.”

Malcom shut him out and saddled the horse.  He needed to breathe in the clean air and feel the coolness on his face.  He needed to think and he always did his best thinkin out in the open in the mountains of his homeland.  He would sort it all out and go home with a clear head.  The Highlands would cleans his soul of whatever Anne had done to him. 

THREE

Anne couldn’t breathe. 

She blinked to try to wake up from this strange dream, but she still stood in the fading light on the doorstep of the cottage she now called home.

She had lived here for nearly three months now and while he had haunted her nights she hadn’t seen her benefactor since the day of her arrival.  Now he was back and he had turned her world on its ear.

Malcom had barely said ten words to her and yet he had just kissed her more thoroughly than any man in her life, well admittedly she hadn’t been kissed, not really, but she had imagined.  She had imagined the way a man would kiss her and nothing came close to the hunger she had felt in Malcom’s arms. 

His ardent kiss proved one thing to her once and for all.  Malcom was certainly not a gentleman and another, she should avoid him at all costs.  He could destroy her too easily and leave her without a single thought.

She turned in time to see Fiona, the young woman who helped with the cleaning and who was Allen’s sister, run away in tears.  Anne’s heart sank as a horrible suspicion surfaced in her mind.

Malcom and Fiona were lovers. 

Of course they were.  A man like him probably had women all over Scotland.  Good, strong Scotts women who knew how to work and how to live out in this land of wilderness.  Women who could stand beside a man like Malcom MacTaggart instead of cower behind him.  Anne was not that sort of woman.

What a mess. 

She took a deep breath and tried to think about what had just happened and how it might change the situation she found herself in.  It didn’t mean anything.  He was angry and taking it out on her, he sought to shame her perhaps.  He thought she was nothing but an English burden.  Perhaps he sought to be rid of her by proving she was unworthy of his support.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

Would he do such a vile thing?  Would he trifle with her only to be done with her? 

She shook her head at her own ignorance.  How could she know nothing of this sort of thing?  Men here were so different from those she was used to.  Men were a mystery to her anyway, but this one was frighteningly different.

She looked around her.  She had grown to love her new home, but she was still afraid of her surroundings.  She rarely ventured out of the yard for fear of what lay further away from the cottage.  She longed to walk along the rocky path that led into the hills, but she couldn’t bring herself to take the steps.

She longed for London where she was safe and knew the rules, but no, London was no longer safe for her.  Moira had received a letter from Margret saying her father had been arrested and questioned.  Anne was being sought after for reasons no one would explain to her.  Margret insisted that she was in danger and she couldn’t come home no matter how she longed to.  She couldn’t go back in the cottage either.  She watched Malcom ride from the barn and scurried to the safety of the shadows that deepened near the corner of the house. 

She wanted to hate him for the freedom he had to escape everything, but she couldn’t bring herself to hate him.

She reached up and touched her lips.  They still tingled and her body was warm even in the coolness of the night. 

She slowly made her way into the barn and climbed the simple ladder up to the place she had claimed as her own.  She had started escaping to the loft when everything got to be too much for her.  When her questions plagued her and she couldn’t stand the pitying looks from the other women another second.  She had taken one of her precious books with her and she curled into the sweet smelling straw to read.  She often dozed there and knew her absence would only make the others more comfortable, especially with Malcom home. 

Moira was secretive about him, she rarely spoke of him within Anne’s hearing and that only made Anne more curious.  She had heard many conversations cut short just as she entered a room and it only served to make her feel more isolated.

Moira had tried to make her feel like she was welcome, but the others rarely had much to say to her.  She woke and worked and tried to stay out of the way.  John was the only one other than Moira that seemed to actually enjoy her company.  He offered her kindness when her soul was so hungry for any connection.  John had quickly become much like a brother to her.

John was several years younger than Malcom, but he seemed as if he was from another world entirely.  Moira claimed he had always been a kind boy and finding Skye had only strengthened his kindness.  Moira had once thought he would become a man of the cloth, but John had never felt the call to the church.  He was still a barbarian after all and perhaps he was only kind in contrast to the other men she had to compare him to in this region.

She thought of those who lived in such close quarters with her in her new world.  Skye and Aggie were lovely and as close as sisters.  Skye often cared for Aggie in ways only a sister would do, rubbing her back or bringing her tea when her obvious girth became too much of a burden.  Anne had never been around anyone carrying a child and had no idea what to do to help.  She just stayed out of the way.

She sighed as she settled further into the sweet smelling straw.  She let the warmth and comfort of her solitude comfort her as she let her thoughts drift to her benefactor.

She knew he would sleep with his men at the tiny inn of this village that had sprung up apparently due to the fact that so many had fled in fear of the battles that ravaged their homeland. 

Malcom….

She could just hide out up here until he was gone…

Maybe it was cowardly, but she was tired of being strong.  She just wanted to be left alone.

She took a deep breath and huffed it out.  She knew she couldn’t do that, but she did want to.  She knew she would get up and go about her day as if nothing had changed, but she had changed.  That kiss had changed her somehow and she was a little afraid to look too deeply and figure out how.  Instead she curled up as she had so many nights and let her eyes close, shutting out everything and trying to remember what it felt like to be loved and safe again.

The cottage wasn’t uncomfortable, it was just that she had to sleep in the room with Moira.  For some reason she could never sleep.  Moira talked in her sleep and Anne found herself listening to every word in hopes that the woman would say something about Anne’s past.

Moira knew something, but she wouldn’t tell her.  She said all would be known in its own time, whatever that was supposed to mean.  Anne had grown ravenous for any scrap of information about who she really was or anything at all about what Moira might know.

Anne let out a little growl and wrapped her shawl tighter around her body.  If she could get warm she could sleep for a while…

“What in blazes are you about?”

Malcom had come back from his ride to find Anne gone.  The night had fallen with nary a star and his fear had increased with every passing moment.  No one else seemed to worry over her absence, saying she was often gone in the evening and he should just leave her alone, but he couldn’t get the fear out of his head. 

On top of everything else, Fiona had dogged his steps until he’d had the nerve to dismiss her outright and assure her that he would secure her and advantageous match as soon as things settled down.  She hadn’t taken that declaration as well as he had hoped and his cheek still burned from the proof of her outrage.  He had wanted to find Anne and if he were honest, he had wanted to kiss her again.  Her taste on his lips was still intoxicating even after hours on horseback.  That kiss had caused something in the air to change, in his heart maybe too.  That seemed the only time she wasn’t repulsed by him.  She had melted into him like a lover and his body had responded like a boy with his first woman, but she had vanished and no one seemed to be the least bit concerned.

He had to find her.

What he would do after he did, he didn’t know, but he had to know she was safe.

Alan had hinted that Anne had been seen with one of the village boys and Malcom had felt his neck go red at the thought of her with another man. 

There was no way though.  He had felt her innocence when he’d held her, unless she was better at lying than he thought, Allen was just torturing him.

John had suggested he look in the paddock and by the stream, but she was nowhere.  He had worked himself into a right good panic when his mother suggested he look in the hay loft. 

That’s where he found her curled up like a child and fast asleep.  There she lay slumbering peacefully while he had been going out of his mind with worry.

He spoke more harshly than he’d meant, as was his habit with Anne, and she sat up startled and blinked like an owl.  Straw stuck out of her messy hair and Malcom had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“What?  Who’s there?”  Her voice trembled from fright or maybe with cold.

“What are ye doin in the loft when there is a perfectly good bed in the house?”

“Malcom?”

“Answer the question Anne.”  He snapped.

“I...I fell asleep reading.  I like to come out here to…”

“To what?  Escape chores?”  He wanted to gentle his voice, but it was beyond him.  Then he heard her sniffle.

“Anne?”

“No.  I come here to escape, that much is true, but not the work.”

He walked toward her.  The dim light from the moon gave him just enough light to see her dark form.  He sat beside her in the darkness.  Before he could stop the thought his arm rested around her and pulled her close.  She was cold and the thought burned through him.  How many nights had she suffered the cold just to get away...from what?  What was so terrible inside that had driven her to sleeping in the loft of a barn?

“Escape what lass?”  He said in a whisper.
“Everything.  Moira knows something about me that she won’t say.  Everyone looks at me like I have a disease.  I didn’t ask for my life to be turned upside down and I don’t understand why I am in danger in London.  I don’t understand why you hated me on sight and even now when I have worked so hard to earn my keep here…”  Her words trailed off and her body shook with her sadness.

She was shredding him.  With every sniffle, every little hiccup he felt new slices to his body.  He did the only thing he knew to do.  He kissed her, offering her comfort in the only way he knew.

Anne sighed against his lips and set him afire.

“Oh Anne, I don’t hate you lass.  I could never hate you.  You have bewitched me and I can’t escape you even when I am home or in battle.  Nay lass, I do not hate you.  I cannot.”

His lips found hers again and he felt like he had found something he had searched for all of his adult life.  Home.  This was what his heart had sought.  Everything he had longed for was here with this one woman.  How was it possible to feel this way about a woman he barely knew?

She made a small sound that ignited his desires to a point of almost pain. 

He felt as if his body was being torn apart.  He was shattering and the only thing holding him together was this one English woman.

He took her face in his hands and marveled at the softness of her cool skin.  Her arms circled his neck and her soft breasts pressed against the hard wall of his chest. 

He growled as he devoured her.  He couldn’t sate his hunger for her.  He needed more and he cursed himself for a weakling.

“I need you Anne.  God how I need you.”

Her fingers wove into his hair and pulled him close for another kiss.  Her innocent movements and openness made him burn hotter.

She wore no corset and his hand traveled down her body to cup her one perfect globe.  She wasn’t overly large, but she filled his hand nicely.

She gasped when he squeezed, telling him she had never been touched like that before.  The knowledge caused his mind to blank, nothing mattered but claiming her.  He wanted to plunder and claim her as his own so no one would dare touch her again.  Anne belonged to him.  Any man that touched her would taste the edge of his broad sword.  He would spill the blood of any man who dared touch what was his. 

Alliances be damned.  Anne was the only woman for him, the only one who would ever share his bed or his heart.

“Anne, tell me to stop and I’ll stop, but tell me now before I am past my strength.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper.  “I don’t want you to stop.”

With a growl he tugged at her clothes.  Before either could regain thought they were both naked.  He laid out his kilt to make the straw more comfortable and then he covered her with his body.  Nothing had ever felt so right, nothing had ever felt so important.

“Have ye ever been with a man lass?”  He asked, but he already knew the answer to his question.

“No.”

She sounded lost in passion, but a little scared too.  Malcom kissed her until she was relaxed in his arms.  Then he let his hand trail down her body again.  She was so soft he feared he would hurt her just by running his roughened hands along her body. 

Her sighs filled his head.  He had to go slow, to prepare her.  He teased the taught peak of one breast and then the other before he let his hand travel further.  He replaced his hand with his mouth and suckled her breast lustily as his fingers found the dark nest of curls between her thighs.  He was rock hard and aching to fill her, but he had to take it slow.  He didn’t want to hurt her.  It seemed of the utmost importance that he not hurt her more than nature required.  Nothing would ever hurt her again.