Chapter Ten #2
Marcus hadn't considered the possibility that Elise would wish to accompany the women the following day on the yearly tradition of swimming in the cool waters of Loch Katrine.
Now, the procession had started and, per his order, his guards had stopped her from passing beyond the gates.
He grimaced at seeing her agitated pacing as he approached. She stopped and glared at him.
“Do you mean to keep me here while the other women go to the loch?” Her narrowed eyes dared him answer yes.
“John,” he called to the nearest guard, “fetch another man and the two of you accompany the women to the loch.”
John's eyes widened. He cast a quick glance at Elise, then jerked his attention back to Marcus.
Marcus gave him a dry look. “You are to watch for trouble, John, not the lasses.”
Marcus looked back at Elise and stifled a laugh at the tight-lipped look on her face.
Apparently she didn't care for being singled out with an escort.
Imagine how she would feel when he came for her in a short while.
The most important part of the tradition was allowing the women enough time to discard their dresses and frolic in the water.
The men later followed to engage them in a sporting game of chase.
Elise abruptly whirled and strode through the gates down the path.
“Hurry, lad,” Marcus urged. “She's getting away.”
John called to a man on the wall, then hurried through the gates after her.
Marcus turned his attention to Elise's retreating back. “Any antics, lass, and I'll turn you over my knee.”
She didn't acknowledge the threat, but he knew she'd heard him. His first wife, Jenna, hadn't been predisposed to clan traditions and never participated in the game. This year, he had reason to participate. Elise disappeared from view down the path. She didn't understand the game. She soon would.
Twenty minutes later, unable to resist the idea of Elise's scantily clad body gliding through the water, Marcus emerged from the trees at the bottom of the mountainside.
He hurried across the twenty-foot clearing where he ducked behind one of the larger patches of juniper bushes lining the jagged shoreline.
Peering through the foliage and across the rocky shore, he witnessed the exact scene he had imagined.
Elise, stripped to her chemise, dove into the blue waters of Loch Katrine along with the other giggling women.
The thin cotton chemise she wore the night he accosted her in his library revealed far more than the heavy flannel the women wore in the interest of modesty during this adventure, but he envisioned the revealing shadows he knew would be visible through the wet material.
A giddy anticipation settled in his stomach.
She would, at first, be furious. With gentle persuasion, however…
Marcus emerged from his hiding place and strode to the shore's edge.
The women splashed one another, the recipients shrieking when their companions' aim found a mark.
A woman squealed. He had been spotted. Elise looked his way.
Just as he thought, the surprise on her face said she hadn't been informed of this part of the game.
He suspected that, if she knew the real reason behind the yearly ritual, she would have declined participation.
She insisted on being a part of Brahan Seer; logic dictated that she receive full measure.
Eyes steady on her, Marcus stripped off his boots. He stepped into the loch, his shins, then thighs, slicing through the water as he ventured deeper. The women blazed a path for him, shrieking with delight while Elise remained frozen.
“You had better move, lass,” one woman called. “He's coming for ye, and if he catches you…” Peals of laughter followed.
Elise's eyes abruptly shifted and she scanned her surroundings before returning to him.
Marcus smiled. Her eyes narrowed, then she dove into the water.
He halted, waiting for her to resurface.
Seconds ticked by and she didn't reappear.
He scanned the water. A sudden round of triumphant shouts went up from the women and he whirled to see Elise rising from the water some thirty feet behind him.
She started for the shore, her progress labored through the hip-deep water.
By God, he would have to put his back into it to catch her before she reached her clothes!
She glanced back, throwing him a satisfied smirk.
Oh ho! She may not have known the game, but she caught on fast. Marcus dove into the water, his strong strokes speeding him through the deeper water until he reached knee deep.
He rose, the water no longer a hindrance to his fast pumping legs.
His feet pounded onto the shore and, with a burst of energy, he closed the gap between them.
In a final sprint, he dove for her, his arms encircling her waist as he brought her to the ground.
Elise sputtered and he realized she had gotten a mouthful of sandy dirt.
“Oh!” she spat. “Let me go!”
Marcus allowed her to thrash in his grasp until she had twisted into a prone position facing him. He settled his weight on her. She beat at his chest. He chuckled and hugged her closer, trapping her arms between them.
“Let me go!” she howled, kicking her heels on the ground like a spoiled child.
Marcus tried looking innocent but knew he failed miserably. “Nae.”
“What in God's name are you doing? Why have you attacked me? This is an outrage!” Her voice rose as she twisted in a serious effort to dislodge him.
“Now, why do you say that, love? I am only playing with you.”
She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Her eyes narrowed to slits. “One does not attack a defenseless woman.”
“Lass, I think you are anything but defenseless. Although, I am enjoying myself at your expense.” Marcus bent his head to whisper in her ear, “The women didn't explain the game.”
He went on to explain how, each year, the women came to the loch, and their men later followed.
Those with wives sought them out, some in sport, some with the intentions of a child arriving nine months later.
Those wanting to make a woman their wife came with the hope that the love play would lead to the consummation of a betrothal.
When Marcus finished, a blush had made its way from Elise's cheek to the delicate ear he'd been whispering into.
“No,” she said, her eyes wide.
Marcus grinned. “Aye.”
She looked past him and he glanced over his shoulder to find several women regarding them with interest.
“I would like to get up now,” Elise said.
He looked back at her. “Aye.” He came to his knees. Before she could rise, he slid his arms beneath her, cupping her to his chest.
She gave him an impatient shove as he rose. “Set me down.”
Marcus assumed a thoughtful expression. “Nae. I have won and deserve my reward.”
Elise lifted a brow. “Just what reward would that be, sir?”
He grinned. Aye, she had learned the game.
He stepped behind the cover of the bushes he had occupied earlier and paused, uncertain what he wanted to do with her.
Marcus laughed inwardly. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with her.
He simply hadn't decided how to go about it.
One thing he did know, however, he was enjoying the feel of her wet chemise against him far too much to release her just yet.
He kissed her. She pushed against his chest and Marcus realized she wasn't about to let him make love to her in plain sight of the other women.
He laid her on the ground and came down upon her, gently this time.
He tugged her chemise high enough to free her legs and settle between them.
Her grip on his shoulders tightened. He kissed her again. Hard. She tensed.
“Shh,” he soothed. “Let me please you.”
He slid a moist kiss down her cheek, then along her neck. “Just a little love play,” he whispered.
He didn't intend on taking her there, tumbling her like a serving wench, but please her, he would.
Slowly, he smoothed a hand along her outer thigh.
Grasping her chemise, he bunched it until his fingers touched the soft flesh beneath.
Elise turned her head, her cheek against his, and placed a kiss on his jaw. Marcus breathed deep.
He slipped his hand beneath her and cupped her buttocks. “I swear to only please you this time.”
“We aren't—” She gasped as he lifted her buttocks, meeting her flesh with a gentle rotation of his shaft against her sex.
Her breath came quicker. He caressed her buttocks, her hip.
A distant pounding of hooves stabbed through the cloud of desire.
He paused, his hand on her pelvis. Again, a distant sound—a roll of thunder?
He lifted his head. In a flash, the memory of the dream he'd had while at Declan's washed over him.
Elise's grip on his shoulder tightened. “What is it?”
Shrieks sounded.
The women.
Marcus shoved to his knees. He peered through the bushes. Riding like hell hounds toward them were seven Campbell warriors.
Seven, his mind repeated calmly, not an army like that in his dream. Only seven.
He leapt to his feet.
“Who are they?” Elise called.
His hand shot to his side. Bloody hell, he'd left his sword at the keep.
Foolish mistake. Marcus swung his gaze to the two warriors sent to guard the women.
He made out the red of their plaide behind bushes thirty feet down shore.
He glanced up the mountainside at Brahan Seer.
Why were no warriors charging down the hill? They must have seen the riders.
Elise scrambled to her feet and Marcus whirled. He shoved her to the ground. “Do not move!” He turned back to watch the Campbells approach.
The women shrieked. Those on the shore raced for the water, joining their comrades who had taken to deeper waters.
“Marcus!” Elise cried.
He looked to see her standing, then glanced at the oncoming men. His heart thumped wildly. Had they seen her? Marcus grabbed her wrist, yanking her back to the ground.