Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
Elspeth had gone riding alone.
Colin heard the words in the courtyard and very nearly forgot that murder required a particular victim.
“She did what?”
The stable lad paled. “Me lady took the grey mare, me laird. She said she wouldnae be long.”
“When?” he snarled.
“Near an hour ago.”
An hour.
Robert Munro had sent men into a cathedral and through a hidden northern passage. He had threatened Elspeth by name. Yet she had ridden beyond the castle walls alone, as though danger possessed the manners to wait until she was properly guarded.
Colin mounted before the boy finished apologizing, and not even fifteen minutes later, he found her beside the loch.
Her mare was grazing among the heather while Elspeth sat upon a flat stone near the water, staring at the folded letter in her hands.
The wind moved through her loosened hair.
She appeared small against the dark hills and silver water.
Relief struck first. Fury followed closely enough to conceal it.
“Have ye lost what little sense ye possessed?” he demanded.
Elspeth turned. Her face was pale, but her eyes sharpened immediately.
“If ye have come in a foul temper, go somewhere else. I am in nay mood tae improve it.”
Colin dismounted. “Ye left the castle alone, Elspeth.”
“Aye. That is generally what riding alone requires.”
He frowned. “Robert’s men are moving through these lands.”
“And shouting at me will doubtless frighten them away.”
He opened his mouth, prepared to explain danger in terms even her stubbornness might understand, but then he saw that her hands were trembling and that she held something. Immediately, his anger changed shape.
“What happened?”
“Naething.”
“Elspeth.”
She looked back at the water. The sharpness had gone from her face, leaving something wounded beneath it. Colin approached more slowly.
“What is that?”
For a moment, he thought she might refuse. Then she held out the letter. He recognized the Fraser seal the moment he took it. Colin read in silence.
Ye have at last proved useful tae this family.
His jaw hardened.
Even in performing the single duty required of ye, ye have managed tae bring further disorder upon us.
By the time he reached the account of Lady Morven’s injury, the parchment had begun to crease beneath his fingers. He read the final accusation twice.
Ye would be wise tae attend tae yer husband’s household without drawing further misfortune toward ours.
Colin lowered the letter. Elspeth stood very still beside him, gazing across the loch as though the distant shore had become a matter of grave importance.
“She is recovering,” Colin told her.
“That is what he claims,” she scoffed.
“We can send someone tae learn the truth.”
“And if she isnae?” Her voice caught despite the care she took with it. “If he has made it seem less serious because he cannae be troubled tae explain?”
He did not even hesitate with his reply. “Then we will bring her here.”
Elspeth looked at him. “Ye say such things as though moving women across the Highlands is a minor household arrangement.”
“I moved ye.”
“Aye.” She almost smiled. “With remarkable efficiency and very little permission.”
Under other circumstances, he might have answered. Instead, Colin folded the letter with more care than its author deserved.
“Yer faither is a cruel man.”
Her mouth tightened. “He still is me faither.”
“Aye, but that daesnae make him less cruel.”
She sighed heavily. “It makes it more difficult nae tae believe him.”
The admission was so quiet that Colin almost missed it. Elspeth looked down at the grass.
“I ken I didnae cause the attack. I ken I didnae hurt her. But she was injured while I was leaving, and I was safe while she—”
“Ye were carried from armed men.”
“By ye.”
“Aye.”
“And she was left behind.”
Colin felt the old guilt settle heavily beneath his ribs. “I would make the same choice again.”
“I ken.”
Her answer held no accusation. That made it worse.
Elspeth reached for the fastening of her cloak. Colin watched as she pulled it free and laid it upon the stone.
He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow even before he spoke. “What are ye doing?”
“Clearing me head.”
She began unlacing her gown.
Colin stared at her. “There are less alarming methods, ye ken.”
“Perhaps. None occur tae me right now.”
“Elspeth.”
She pushed the gown from her shoulders. Understanding arrived with disbelief.
“Ye cannae be serious.”
Her petticoats followed. “I remember a certain barbarian claiming cold water improves the blood.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
“I wasnae a woman hunted by Robert Munro.”
“Nay. Ye were merely a naked nuisance.”
Her shift fell upon the grass. For one disastrous instant, Colin forgot Robert Munro, Thomas Fraser, the northern passage, and every sensible warning formed by the human mind, because he was looking at Elspeth standing bare beneath the grey sky, her hair lifting in the wind and the healing cut at her ribs pale against her skin.
Then she ran into the loch and the splash broke his paralysis. She surfaced with a gasp sharp enough to frighten birds from the reeds.
“God above!” she breathed. “Ye neglected tae mention that it feels like death.”
He smirked. “I told ye it was freezing.”
“I assumed ye were boasting.”
Colin stripped with considerably less ceremony than she had shown. Her eyes widened as he entered the water.
“What are ye daeing?”
“Preventing me wife from drowning through stubbornness.”
“I can swim just fine.”
“Aye. And I can see ye shivering from here.”
He reached her before she could retreat farther. Elspeth attempted an offended expression, though her teeth had begun to chatter. Colin caught her around the waist. The water was bitterly cold, but her body against his seemed impossibly warm.
“Yer faither daesnae understand ye,” he whispered.
Her defiance faltered.
“He daesnae understand that courage isnae disobedience. He daesnae understand what it costs ye tae remain kind after being raised beneath his hand.”
“Colin…”
“He had a daughter any man with sense would have guarded as treasure, and he treated ye as debt.”
Her eyes shone.
“Ye are troublesome,” he continued. “Reckless. Incapable of obedience and dangerously fond of arguments ye havenae prepared properly.”
“I prepare them very well.”
“But ye are also the finest woman I have ever kent.”
Elspeth stared at him. The grief in her face softened into something that threatened every defense he still possessed.
“Ye cannae say such things while we are naked in a loch,” she whispered.
“Why?”
“Because I cannae think of a clever reply.”
“Then the cold has performed a miracle.”
Then, catching him utterly off guard, she kissed him. Colin caught the back of her neck and drew her nearer. The kiss deepened at once, with grief and anger giving way to heat with alarming speed. Elspeth’s arms encircled his shoulders, careless of his half-healed wound.
He lifted her from the water before either of them lost all sense. They reached the bank dripping and breathless. Colin laid his cloak over the grass and lowered her onto it, sheltering her body with his.
“Still clearing yer head?” he murmured against her mouth.
“I believe it requires further attention.”
His hand moved between them. Elspeth’s breath caught and she arched beneath his mouth. The movement nearly destroyed what remained of Colin’s restraint.
He felt every small response she gave him, the quickening of her breath, the tremor beneath her skin, the way her fingers tightened against him as though she needed something solid to hold while pleasure carried her beyond familiar ground.
He wanted her to feel beautiful. More than that, he wanted her to understand that her body belonged to neither fear nor duty. It belonged to her. Every sigh, every shiver, every uncertain demand was hers to give or withhold.
His hand travelled slowly down her body, allowing his fingers to skim over each warm curve before settling between her thighs. She stiffened for the briefest moment.
Colin raised his head. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, but he saw the faint tension in her brow.
“Easy,” he murmured. “I have ye.”
Her lashes lifted and trust looked back at him. The sight struck deeper than desire.
Colin touched her gently, learning her responses rather than assuming them. Her breath caught. Her hips shifted toward his hand with a shy instinct that made heat gather fiercely in his blood. He repeated the caress. Elspeth gasped and lifted beneath him.
Colin bent to her breast again, drawing one sensitive peak into his mouth while his fingers continued their careful rhythm. Her skin tasted faintly of loch water and wind. She was cold at the edges and burning beneath, her body softening by degrees as pleasure overcame uncertainty.
He looked up at her. “Ye like that?”
Her eyes opened, bright and unfocused. Cruel of him to ask, perhaps.
The answer lived plainly in the flush across her chest and the restless movement of her body.
But he wanted to hear her. He wanted Elspeth, who had once prepared herself to endure his touch in frightened silence, to discover the power of telling him what she wanted.
“Mmm,” she managed.
The sound was soft, almost a purr. Colin’s mouth curved against her skin.
“An eloquent answer.”
She attempted a glare. It failed entirely when he changed the motion of his fingers and drew another breathless sound from her.
He moved to her other breast, letting his lips and tongue tease until she was shifting restlessly beneath him.
Every response she gave became another demand upon his control.
Her body was no longer guarded against his.
It welcomed him, searched for him, trusted him to guide what she did not yet understand.
Colin thought possession would be the most dangerous pleasure a man might know. He had been wrong. Being trusted was infinitely worse.
His finger slid inside her velvet heat, and Elspeth’s head fell back against the cloak. Her own fingers closed around his arm, holding tightly as he brought her nearer to the edge.
“Aye…” she moaned. “Faster, faster…”