7. DUGALD
Chapter seven
DUGALD
Ewen was grateful for his help. Dugald and his elder brother always got along well, while the twins were naturally closer to each other, but the truth was all of the brothers were close.
Perhaps it was because they had lost Auchiltie and had to flee for their lives, as well as their fierce determination to one day regain those lands.
Hamish and the twins were planning to leave Castle Tighe soon, and return to Auchiltie, and Ewen would remain here with his wife.
Dugald had meant to return to the duke as soon as possible, but for some reason he wasn’t willing to explore the days passed and he was still here.
Ostensibly he remained to help Ewen with any rebellions that might be brewing, but if he was honest with himself it was all about Rosina.
When he had seen Rosina going into that cottage the other morning he’d acted without a thought for his own safety. She was in danger and he needed to protect her. She’d been upset and angry with him, and then, on the walk back to the castle, she had argued with him.
Go away, Dugald. You are leaving anyway.
The proposal had spilled out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to stop and consider.
Dugald’s mind was as cold and sharp as the steel blade of his sword.
He saw a problem and then he worked out how to solve it.
He admitted he wanted her, as much and as often as possible.
She wanted him too, he had proven that to her.
Surely his offer was the best solution for them both?
They could scratch this inconvenient itch and then he would be on his way and she could continue with her life here at Tighe.
They would communicate when it was necessary for Mary’s future, but other than that, it would be over.
Then why did it not feel right? Yes, he lusted after her like a stag in rutting season, but that was just a small part of the whole.
From the moment he had set eyes on her again, her beautiful face and her stormy grey eyes, he had felt as if his world were no longer the same.
The bright future he was headed for dimmed and darkened, and no matter how he tried to tell himself this desire for Rosina was only a temporary thing, it was a lie.
God help him, he wanted her back. All of her.
The thought of her wandering around unprotected ...
no, he wanted to be the man standing at her back, ready to step in at the first sign of danger.
He wanted to hold her tight in his arms and bring the smile back to her lips and sweep the clouds from her eyes.
Did Rosina want that too? Was that why she had looked so sad? Because he was leaving her again?
“Dugald.” He looked up at the sound of the sweet voice and saw Mistress Stewart lingering in the doorway to the armoury.
She appeared uncertain and he smiled a welcome.
He felt a little sorry for her. Until she returned to the duke’s household, she was stuck with his father watching over her like a hawk.
“I wondered if you were returning to the duke’s castle soon,” she said in a rush, and he saw that her cheeks were flushed. Frowning, he wondered if one of the men had been trying to flirt with her, or taking unwelcome liberties.
“Do you wish to leave?” he asked her. “I can arrange—”
She looked startled. “Oh ... I ... I am grateful, thank you, but I don’t wish to leave.
Your father is planning to return to Auchiltie, and he is worried it will not be in a fit state.
I know those who drove you out of your home were not kind people.
I think he believes I will be overcome at the sight and he wants to see me safe back with the duke. ”
Dugald nodded, wondering where this conversation was going. “My father is right. It will be a shambles, Mistress Stewart. You would be better off returning to—”
“But I don’t want to!” The words seemed torn from her, and her blush grew even more obvious.
“I’m sorry,” she softened her voice, “but you don’t understand.
I have no family. I have lived my whole life in the households of powerful men.
Since I was given into your father’s care I feel as if suddenly I have a family.
I have a purpose. These past days in Tighe I have felt of use, Dugald, and I don’t want that to stop!
I want to go with him and your brothers to Auchiltie.
Yes, everything might be a mess, but I don’t mind that. I want to be of help, don’t you see?”
Dugald looked into her blue eyes, at the earnest belief in them, and sighed. He did see. The trouble was he doubted his father would.
“I will speak to him,” he said. “I will do my best, Mistress.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
After she left he went back to his task, looking through weapons and armour that had not seen any repairs or cleaning for a very long time. He would need to arrange such details and without delay. He was holding up a rusty axe with a chunk out of the blade when the door opened again.
Biting back an impatient sigh, Dugald turned to face the interruption. Rosina stood behind him.
“I’m sorry,” she began, seeing his frown. “I can return later.”
He moved before she could leave, his hand on her shoulder. He closed the door with his boot and spun her around. Her eyes widened when she looked up at him, but she didn’t struggle or push him away. She was holding her breath and waiting, and that was when he knew.
She was here to tell him yes.
Suddenly he was full of a raging passion. He ducked his head, taking her mouth with his, not sparing her. It wasn’t enough. He was trying not to admit that it never would be.
She made one of her little sounds under his lips and he felt her tongue tentatively brushing his.
He groaned, hands sliding down her arms to her waist, tugging her slender body against his harder one.
Her breasts pressed to his chest and this time there was no doubt about how she felt.
He reached to cup her warm flesh, his thumb rubbing over the hard point.
She didn’t stop him or protest and his mouth closed over her through the cloth of her bodice.
“Dugald,” she gasped, clutching his head. She wanted this; she didn’t have to tell him. In fact he was done with talking. He was done with thinking.
He stepped around her and barred the door. They should be safe here, for a time at least, and although it was hardly the setting for seduction that he’d planned, at least they were alone. Castle Tighe was bursting at the seams right now, and any small piece of solitude was something to celebrate.
When he turned back to Rosina, she was watching him.
She looked rumpled and her eyes were heavy with desire.
For him. She came into his arms at the same time as he reached for her.
The buttons on her bodice proved no problem, and he murmured praise at the sight of her full, creamy breasts tipped with rose.
She was more opulent than before and he supposed that was because of his child, and knowing that ...
It almost sent him over the edge as he covered first peak with his mouth, sucking deep, and then the other, and she arched toward him with a gasp.
Her fingers were clinging onto his shoulders, digging in as if she’d never let him go. He needed her. His cock was aching to be inside her.
A glance over his shoulder showed him the narrow bed he’d already noticed.
It was set up for when a soldier on guard was needed in here.
He suspected the bedding wasn’t as clean as it could be, but there was a cloak hanging over a chair that looked cleaner, and he threw it over the mattress, and turning, took Rosina’s hand.
She stumbled slightly and then her eyes flicked from the bed to him, and she tried to pull back, as if realising what he was about.
He stilled her, running his nose down her cheek to her neck and then sucking tenderly on her skin, where the pulse fluttered. She whimpered, “Dugald.”
“We both need this,” he said with certainty.
She swallowed and then gave a shaky nod. “Yes. We need to work this ... this madness out of our blood.”
He wasn’t sure it would ever be that easy, but he didn’t want to argue with her right now.
Taking her hand in his, he led her to the bed and knelt down in front of her.
Her skirts were worn—he noticed a darn near the hem—and something about her obvious poverty made his stomach clench.
She deserved the finest silks but this was not the time to discuss items of clothing ... except to take them off.
The fastenings were soon undone and her skirts fell in a puddle around her shoes.
Her stockings went as far as her knees and after that her warm, ivory flesh was all his.
With a muttered curse he ran his hands up her legs, squeezing her plump bottom and burying his face in the curls of dark hair on her mound.
She smelt of feminine arousal. She smelt of Rosina.
Tentatively, as if to steady herself, her hands came to rest on his head and then her fingers were sliding through his hair, tugging until he lifted his face upwards.
She was flushed, her eyes glittering, her lips swollen.
She wanted him, but he could also see the doubt that lay just below the surface.
“Breathe,” he told her, “because in a moment you won’t be able to.”
Before she could answer, he leaned forward, parted her thighs, and swiped his tongue through her folds. Her fingers tightened painfully but there was pleasure in knowing he could make her lose herself like that. He found the little nub and circled it with his tongue before giving it a hard suck.
Her hips bucked against him and she moaned so loudly he wondered if the guard on the gate could hear her. He continued to lap at her, aware of just how wet she was getting, and the little shivers of her muscles as he pushed her toward orgasm.