Chapter 8 #2
Never had he wanted anything as badly as he wanted Flora.
And he’d almost had her, but he’d been well caught in a trap of his own making.
All thoughts of seduction, of coercing her into marrying him, had fallen to the wayside the moment he’d held her in his arms. When she’d pressed her soft body against him and opened her mouth to him so sweet and eager, something had imploded in his chest. His only thought had been to please her.
He thought of how wet and hot she’d been, how her sweet little hips had pressed against his hand, how preciously close she’d been to release.
He cursed the sudden rush of heat to his groin, his cock brought to quick life by the memories. His body still throbbed from the abrupt curtailment of their passion.
Damn Hector.
His heart skipped a beat at the sound of the door opening, thinking foolishly that it might be Flora coming back. But it was only his sister.
“What happened?” Gilly asked anxiously. “I saw Flora rush out of here, looking close to tears.”
“There’s nothing to worry about, Gilly. Go back to your chamber.”
“Does it have something to do with the messenger I saw arriving earlier?”
He frowned. It wasn’t like Gilly to ignore his instructions.
Flora was having more of an influence over his sisters than he realized.
And he didn’t like it. He was about to repeat his directive when Gilly placed her hand on his arm, an affectionate sisterly gesture—and also, he realized, a rare one.
When had his sisters stopped touching him?
As girls, they always climbed all over him, giggling with some jest or prank.
“Please, I’m not a child. I only want to help.”
He gave her a long look, seeing the adorable face—no longer of a child, but of a young woman almost six and ten—and felt a sharp pang of melancholy.
Of longing. How had it happened? How had his sisters grown up without his realizing it?
He knew there was nothing he could have done to change it; he’d been consumed with fighting and protecting his clan.
But that didn’t mean he did not regret that circumstances were not different.
That he’d not had more time for his brother and sisters.
Regret made all the more poignant by his brother’s imprisonment. But he would get him back.
“Please,” Gilly repeated.
Lachlan didn’t discuss clan business with his sisters, partially out of consideration for their innocence.
He thought he was protecting them by keeping his troubles from them.
But this time, he relented. A wry smile turned his mouth.
His sisters, it seemed, weren’t the only ones affected by Flora MacLeod. “It was a message from Duart.”
“Flora’s brother? But I didn’t think you really intended to write to him and propose the exchange?”
“I didn’t.” He hadn’t sent Hector a letter at all. It had all been a ruse to buy him precious time for wooing his recalcitrant bride.
“Then how did he find out so quickly that Flora was here?”
He’d been wondering the same thing. He could only hope that Hector wouldn’t alert Rory. There would be hell to pay if the MacLeod discovered what Lachlan had done before he secured her agreement.
“I don’t know,” he answered. “But I intend to find out.” He didn’t want to consider that one of his own people could betray him. But who else would know? He’d have to think on it.
“What did the note say?”
He felt the anger flare inside him again. Hector’s jabs were petty but struck hard nonetheless. He pulled it out and handed it to her. Gilly unfolded it and handed it right back to him, her brows furrowed. “It’s in Scots.”
“Exactly.”
She thought for a minute, before a look of disgust appeared on her face. “I see.”
“Yes, wasn’t it fortunate that the only person in the castle who could read it happened to be standing right beside me?
” he said bitterly, unable to hide his sarcasm.
The timing couldn’t have been worse. Normally, he didn’t react to Hector’s barbs, but Flora’s presence had caused him to lash out.
Without intending it, she had a way of making him feel somehow lacking.
“You let Flora read it?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t have much choice.”
“What did it say?”
“Hector’s typical threats, nothing more.
No doubt the main purpose was to shame me in front of his sister.
” Hector never wasted an opportunity to prod Lachlan for his so-called barbarity.
“I’m sure he’d be pleased to know how well it worked.
” He would pay for that. As if Lachlan needed any more reason for revenge.
He’d been looking forward to the day he would destroy Hector since he was nine years old.
Gilly scrunched up her nose. “That doesn’t sound like Flora.”
He hadn’t thought so, either. But why else would she ask to leave right after she’d discovered that he hadn’t been educated? Even after what had happened between them.
“Flora was raised in the Lowlands,” he said tensely. “With their biases.”
Gilly shook her head. “She’s not like that.
She would not ill judge you for something that could not be helped.
You forget, she’s been giving Mary and me daily instruction in Scots and Latin.
Not once have I ever felt her pity or scorn.
I don’t think your lack of education would in any way change her opinion of you. ”
Lachlan shook his head, amazed how quickly Flora had won the loyalty of his sisters. Still, there was a ring of truth to what Gilly said. He looked at his young sister with increased estimation. Was she right? Had he misinterpreted Flora’s reasons for wanting to leave?
If so, his misplaced anger might have caused more damage than he’d realized.
Gilly studied him, clearly puzzled. “I still don’t understand why she was so upset.”
“She wanted to leave. I told her it was impossible.”
Gilly was watching him with a strange look on her face. “You care for her.”
His jaw clenched. “No.”
“Would it be so bad if you did?” she asked softly.
It would make it harder. And doing what needed to be done was already difficult, with each day as he learned more and more about her past and started to understand that beneath the headstrong exterior was a deep-seated fear of ending up like her mother, of helplessness, and of being at the mercy of those who might seek to control her. Like me. Justified or not.
And now she was aware of his intentions for marriage. It definitely made his job more difficult, but having one less secret between them gave him some measure of relief. But his goal hadn’t changed. For more reasons than one, he couldn’t let her go.
“Nothing has changed,” he said. “If anything, the situation has grown graver.”
Gilly nodded, sobered by the reminder. He watched as the conflicting emotions crossed her face. He could commiserate. He felt the same way, but unlike his sister, he’d become adept at masking his thoughts and feelings.
Finally, she lifted her gaze to his hesitantly. “You won’t hurt her?” she asked in a small voice.
“No.” A flash of Flora’s luminous blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears, staring at him accusingly, swam before his eyes. He was no longer sure it could be avoided. “Not if it can be helped,” he amended.
“What will you do?”
“What must be done.” His options were few.
They stood there for some time in shared silence. The direness of the situation held them both in its solemn thrall.
How could one wee lass hold so many lives in the palm of her tiny hand?
Hector Maclean grunted deeply with each thrust, but he was finding little pleasure in the act. Not even the lush body spread out naked before him helped. His mind kept straying to the latest outrage committed by his nemesis.
He was not a patient man by nature, and the nearly twenty-five years he had waited to destroy Lachlan Maclean had taken their toll.
The Laird of Coll had been a thorn in his side for years, but Hector vowed this latest insult would be the last. Abducting his sister.
He thrust harder. Interfering with his plans.
He ground his hips against her roughly. Coll would pay for the insult. With his life.
Damn bitch, he was losing his erection. “Move,” he ordered.
The whey-faced little maid did as ordered and began to sway back and forth on her hands and knees, reaching back with her plump bottom to meet his thrusts. He could still feel her reluctance, but at least in taking her from behind, he didn’t have to see her face.
He reached around to squeeze her enormous breasts, which hung so low that they almost touched the ground, pinching her flat nipples to a peak.
He stopped and reached for his goblet. But even the whisky suddenly tasted bitter.
Thinking he was done, the lass tried to crawl away, but he gave her a sharp slap on her bottom and pulled her hips angrily against him, letting her know otherwise.
He jabbed her harder, showing his displeasure, and she made a pathetic little yelping sound.
A hot surge of lust filled his groin. That was more like it. Normally he wasn’t so rough, but the anger inside him had festered like an open wound. Violence was its only release. If not against Coll, then … He slapped her again, leaving a flat angry handprint on her pale skin.
He slammed into her harder and harder, his frenzy only increasing with her muffled sounds of distress. Oh yes. That was it. He felt the pressure building and slapped her again. She cried out, and with a few rough pumps, he spewed his seed deep inside her.
He pulled out, and she collapsed on the bed, curling into a tiny ball, whimpering.
The sound infuriated him. He pushed her roughly from the bed and tossed her a coin.
Which was more than she deserved. Even coming had left him strangely unsatisfied.
It was probably the chit’s fault. These people of Coll were a surly bunch.
They blamed him for their circumstances when it was their laird who should feel their wrath. It was his defiance that had put them in this position.
The girl reached for her gown, but he wrenched it from her hands and used it to wipe himself before handing it back to her. After gathering the rest of her clothing, she left, never once raising her eyes. At least she knew her place.
Which was more than could be said of her former laird. Anger and resentment returned in full force, not softened by his release one whit. Coll’s continued refusal to bow to him as chief ate at him like acid. It was a blow to Hector’s pride that could be satisfied only by Coll’s death.
He needed a plan. A way to get his sister back and destroy Coll at the same time. Poor little Flora. He had fond enough memories of the girl to regret that she’d become involved. But the willful lass had brought it on herself.
If Coll had touched her, Hector swore that he would not live long enough to regret it.