Seduced By The Noble Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Medieval Historical Romance Page 2

  “I offered him confession M’laird, but he refused,” the priest told David. He looked troubled at the thought that a soul might forfeit its place in heaven. David sighed. This had always been Bryce’s way.

  “Come with us, Father,” he suggested. “He may change his mind.”

  Bryce was sitting bound hand and foot with stout ropes and was staring malevolently at Lewis as he stood outside waiting to bid them farewell.

  “Goodbye, little brother,” he sneered. “You have everything you want now—an estate, a lairdship, and soon, no doubt, a little rich bitch and a brat or two.” He looked at Lewis for a reaction, but there was none. Lewis’s face might have been carved out of stone. “But do not set too much store in your newfound fortune. It may not last forever.”

  Lewis gave no response at all. He did not wave as the carriage crossed over the moat and passed out of sight. He looked calm, but he was inwardly seething. Bryce had changed the course of his life.

  There had been no opportunity to see Crissy that evening since the servants were having a small celebration and Crissy had been obliged to attend, but since Lewis was now the heir apparent to the estate, he was given an office of his own a few doors away from his father. It was a very plain room, but it had been unused for a while and was very dusty, so he called Crissy up to clean it before he moved in.

  At any other time he would have been wildly eager to see her, but now, since he had such bad news, he was dreading the encounter ahead.

  She came in smiling as she always did, then rushed up to him, threw her arms around his neck, and peppered his face with tiny kisses. He laughed and smoothed her hair away from her face, then grew quiet, his expression solemn.

  “I have to talk to you, Crissy my love.” His voice was soft and full of sadness. He sat her down in a chair and knelt in front of her, holding her hands.

  “Ye are scarin’ me, sweetheart,” she said anxiously. “Whit’s the matter?”

  “My brother came back yesterday,” Lewis began. “Crissy, he has committed some terrible crimes, including arranging the attack on the Galbraith Castle. Laird Galbraith said that hanging him was too quick and painless, so he told my father to send him to the Brothers of the Order of St Peter on Unst in Shetland.”

  “But that is an asylum for mad people,” Crissy said, frowning. “Why no’ somewhere closer?”

  Lewis sighed. “Because what he did was so terrible that they want to send him to the grimmest place they can think of.” He was caressing her hands while he spoke, thinking of how work-worn they looked. “And it is apparently not a place of mercy. The monks believe that these people are possessed by evil spirits, and punish them as such. Life is a living hell, they say. This means that I am now—”

  “Laird Crawford the Younger,” she finished for him. Her voice was lifeless. She slid her hands out of his and faced him squarely, meeting his eyes without humility. Her heart was breaking, but she would not be meek. “Then, M’laird, I wish ye every success, an’ if ye’ll excuse me I must get on wi’ my work.” She curtsied and turned away, but Lewis took her by the shoulders and turned her around again.

  “Crissy,” he said tenderly, “you do not understand. This makes no difference to us. I wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else, that’s all. I still love you and desire you and I still want you to marry me, and that has not changed, believe me.”

  He took her hands again and kissed them. “When you are my wife,” he murmured, “these hands will be tender and soft, because you will never have to scrub a floor or wield a duster again. You will be called Lady Crissy Crawford and I will be the most devoted husband ever, I promise.”

  Once more, Crissy pulled her hands away. “Lewis, I am a servant,” she answered firmly. “I will always be a servant an’ have servant’s hauns. Go an’ find a nice lass o’ yer ain station in life—I am no’ for the likes o’ you.”

  Lewis took a step forward and she took a step back to put some distance between them. “Naw, Lewis.” She shook her head. “It wis a dream.”

  “Listen, Crissy, my love.” His voice was desperate. “I am going to speak to my father. Please don’t abandon hope till I have done so. I know we can be together. I have faith in us.”

  She looked up at is face with its warm brown eyes that had become so essential to her happiness, and nodded slowly, then he smiled.

  “Thank you sweetheart,” he breathed. “Just wait a little longer. Now I have a surprise for you. What would you say if I told you I have found us a cottage?”

  “I dinnae understand,” she replied, frowning. “Ye bought it?”

  “No,” he replied. “It belongs to the estate, so I already own it, but it is quite far away, so we will have to ride. Can you meet me tomorrow evening? I will make sure you have a good reason. Dress warmly, because we will have to ride for a mile or so.”

  She nodded slowly, defeated. If there was any chance for them at all she would grab it with both hands.

  He embraced her once more, kissed her tenderly, and then left. She stood still for a few moments, thinking about what he had said, and a glimmer of hope began to show through the darkness.

  3

  Lovers’ Despair

  Lewis had slipped away the next morning and made the cottage as clean and tidy as he could.

  “After all,” he said out loud as he swept the floor, “I will be judged by an expert!” He laughed at his own humor, but he knew that he was whistling in the dark to keep away his fear. What if Crissy rejected him again? What if she tried to find a job at another castle and moved out of the area? What if she fell out of love with him if things became too difficult? What if she simply ran away? He tried not to think the unthinkable, but it forced its way into his mind anyway. What if she found someone else?

  He could not bear those thoughts, so he gritted his teeth and turned to more practical matters. He had brought a flask of whisky with him, and he set out some soft bread, local cheeses, cold meats, and glazed fruits. These were the kind of things she would never get in the castle kitchen, but tonight he wanted to spoil her. He had also brought a straw mattress which was light and easy to carry so that they could lie down in comfort. He had promised himself that he would not try to make love to her, since she had too much to lose if there were any unwanted consequences. He knew that it would take much of his willpower, but he would do anything to keep her with him and he did not want his carnal desires to drive her away.

  He met her in a room near the one he had seen her in the previous day, and told her what he had planned for that evening.

  “I will meet you outside the courtyard just after darkness falls, and I will bring some blankets to keep us warm since I do not want a fire to attract attention.”

  She said nothing and merely nodded, but as she turned away he said cryptically, “Do not eat too much before.”

  She turned back. “Why?” she asked. She was frowning, but there was a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Wait and see,” he laughed. He watched her as she walked gracefully across the room and then he realized that he had almost forgotten to kiss her. He caught her just as she was about to open the door then swept her into his arms and kissed her so passionately that she moaned with pleasure.

  Crissy’s world now contained only two people, and they became lost in each other for a while, each giving and receiving pleasure and love. Crissy thought that if she died at that moment she would have done so happily, for life could never be any better. Lewis’s mouth moved onto her neck, his hand onto her breast, and she could feel his aroused manhood against her thighs. He lifted her skirt up and slid his hands onto her slick wetness.

  She wished with all her heart that she could allow things to take their natural course, but she could not—the consequences could be disastrous. She pushed him away, although it was a great effort.

  “Lewis,” she gasped. “Lewis, ye must let me go now.” He did so with extreme reluctance, but kissed her passionately, rubbing himself against her till he rea
ched a climax. He stood, his body shuddering against hers.

  Crissy had only been on a horse once before, and that had been enough. She had been terrified of being so far off the ground, but she had been a young girl then. Now she was a grown woman and chastised herself for being such a coward. She was sitting in front of Lewis, whose hands were on the reins, and his arms were on either side of her to stop her from falling off.

  They were going very slowly since it was almost completely dark, but Lewis wanted to be out of sight of the castle before they lit a lantern. When he finally did, they were able to go much more quickly. Finally, the path they had been following sloped down until they were in a shallow valley, and there stood a house made of the local granite with a thatched roof. Crissy was surprised at its size; it must contain at least four bedrooms.

  He gave her the blankets and they went inside, where he lit a dozen candles. She put one of the blankets over her shoulders above her cloak, since it was freezing, but as soon as she saw the food on the table she forgot about it.

  She gasped, and her mouth fell open in amazement. She ate plain food; porridge, bannocks, vegetables, mutton, or chicken stew, and fruit in season, and she drank only milk and ale. She had served this kind of food before, but had never eaten it. Lewis pulled out a chair for her at the very rough-hewn table and she sat down, bemused.

  “Lewis, sweetheart—ye did a’ this? For me?” Crissy’s eyes were wide with astonishment, and then she laughed. “An’ it isnae even my birthday!”

  Lewis had sat himself at her side so that he could be closer to her. Now he leaned over and kissed her softly. “Every time we are together it’s a celebration. Now eat.”

  Crissy needed no second bidding. She loaded her plate with everything on the table except the glazed fruits, and began to eat. She ate her food slowly, savoring it and constantly making comments about how good it was and how much she was enjoying it. She had saved the fruits till last, and then Lewis poured a measure of whisky for her so that she could sip it as she ate. He loved watching her; giving pleasure to the one he loved was better than satisfying himself, he realized.

  “No need to ask if you liked it,” he said, laughing as she sat back, replete at last.

  “It was lovely,” she replied, sighing, and then she caught sight of the mattress on the floor.

  He followed her gaze, and then smiled at her tenderly, cupping her cheek with his hand. “For our comfort,” he said, “and a kiss or two, nothing more.”

  She was reassured. Lewis, although he was very passionate, had never made demands on her. “I love ye, Lewis,” she whispered. “I could say it a’ day an’ it widnae be enough.”

  He kissed her gently then, and they moved to the mattress where they lay down. Lewis put the blankets over them and at last they were tightly wrapped and snug, sharing the warmth of their bodies.

  “This is heaven, Crissy,” he whispered.

  “I knaw, Lewis, but we must talk.” Her voice was determined. “I need tae tell ye that things cannae go on like this. Ye need a wife that ye can show aff an’ take tae parties. This food here—I have never eaten onything like it before in my life. Ye need somebody who is used tae a’ this, no’ somebody who eats porridge an’ drinks ale day in day oot.”

  “But I love that person!” he protested. “She is everything to me!”

  “I must leave this place,” she said, and her voice was infinitely sorrowful. “This cannae be, Lewis. We cannae be, an’ you knaw that.”

  “I will not give up my love to conform to the rigid rules of society!” Lewis cried. “Who made those rules, and who says we must abide by them? The only rule in my life is you and our love.”

  “Oh, Lewis!” She shook him by the shoulders. “Like it or no’ we live in this world an’ this is the way things is done. We cannae change them.”

  “We can try,” he said stubbornly. “We can make a start! Who will if we do not?”

  She sighed, and he gathered her more closely into his arms. “You are dreamin’, my love,” she whispered.

  “I may be, but I will make them come true.” His voice was grim. “If Father does not give me permission to marry you I will give up my inheritance, Crissy. I would rather have you than all of this land and the castle. They are things—possessions. I do not want to own you, just to love you. I will give up everything to make you mine.”

  She looked into his eyes and saw the fierceness and determination there.

  He believes it, she thought, amazed.

  “Listen to me!” he ordered her. “And remember this, Crissy. I promise you this. I will marry you. I will make you happy, and I will give you our children. And most of all I will be proud of you, and defend your honor, and if anyone has anything to say about that then they can answer to me!”

  For a moment longer he gazed at her then he fell on her, ravishing her lips with his. She responded instantly with a little whimper of delight, returning his kiss with equal fervor, arching her hips up to his and running her hands all over him, concentrating on his hard fleshy buttocks. He began to slide his hands under her skirt.

  “No,” she whispered, but she made no move to stop him.

  “I swear to you on my life that we will be married.” His tone was firm and definite and for a moment she was reassured, but then she faltered again. The odds were too heavily stacked against them. “If we are not then it will only be because one or both of us is dead.”

  “Aye, my love,” she whispered. She gave him one last kiss, and then she stood up to leave, but he stopped her, holding her close.

  “Crissy,” he moaned in her ear, “my love, this is killing me.”

  For one second more she gazed at him, then she groaned and gave in. She opened her legs and he touched his tongue to her wetness. She jerked up at his touch, then he began to move his tongue in small circles, concentrating on the small nub of flesh between the lips of her sex, at the same time squeezing her breasts hard the way she liked him to. She held onto the mattress, digging her fingers into it.

  “Oh, God, Lewis!” she breathed as her orgasm hit her. He laid his head on her stomach and began to play with the little bush of hair between her thighs.

  “It tickles,” she laughed.

  He looked at her tenderly. “If I tickle you some more will you marry me?”

  She said nothing, but looked sad.

  “I will never give in,” he said, his voice grim all of a sudden. “You will be mine Crissy, because I want you to be, and I know you want it too. You will be my wife, even if I have to fight for you.”

  Lewis closed his eyes while he tried to compose himself, then he turned to face her. “Crissy, you know that you mean more to me than anyone else in the world?”

  “Aye, Lewis,” she replied, and then she began to clear up the food dishes before Lewis took them out of her hands.

  “In the future, the only serving will be done by me,” he said firmly. “Remember that we will not only be husband and wife, we will be partners in the business of running our home and raising our children. Oh, Crissy, I cannot wait to be your husband.”

  “And I wid love tae be your wife,” she replied. But I think ye should choose somebody else, she thought.

  When they left it had become even colder, and even huddled into her cloak and blankets, Crissy was still freezing. They rode in silence, but with Lewis, silence was never awkward. However, now she felt sad because no matter how many assurances he made, she knew that their marriage would never happen. Before, he had been the second son of a laird, and unlikely to inherit the estate, and there had been a glimmer of hope. However, now he was first in line with all the duties and responsibilities that came with a lairdship. One of the main ones was to make a good marriage, and that definitely excluded the possibility of marrying a chambermaid.

  At the end of the journey he helped her down from Angus, kissed her, and laughed softly. “I must teach you how to ride,” he murmured. “You may have to do it sometimes.”

  “I’ll think aboo
t it, M’laird,” she replied, smiling. “Goodnight!” Then she disappeared into the darkness.

  She had to share a bedroom with two other maids so she did her weeping in a corner of the stables. She was now surer than ever, despite his promises, that her love would be forced to marry a woman from his own level of society, someone who came from high society and had plenty of money. What did Crissy Munro have to offer him compared to that?

  Lewis, on the other hand, was on top of the world. Crissy was his, and always would be.

  4

  Ladies’ Parade

  David Crawford was uneasy. He was afraid that there might be something going on between Lewis and one of the housemaids, but if there were, it could not be proven since they had been so careful to keep it concealed. None of the kitchen staff seemed to know anything—not that he had ever interviewed them, but somehow information always leaked out of there if there was any to be had.

  The guards at the gate had never seen anything, and neither had any of the other staff, but David watched out for any signals passing between Lewis and any of the housemaids when they passed each other in the courtyard or the corridor. He told himself sternly that he was imagining things; Lewis was not his brother and would never be so stupid as to trifle with any of the staff. Bryce thought that housemaids were playthings, but he knew that Lewis treated all women with respect.

  He was probably imagining it after all, he told himself, but it made him aware of a matter that had to be attended to urgently. If Lewis was now Laird Crawford the Younger, there should also be a Lady Crawford the Younger, and the sooner the better.

  To this end he called his son to a meeting in his office one morning and began to lecture him about his responsibilities.

  “I suppose it will not console you to know that I tried to give this same talk to Bryce,” David told him. “He fell asleep.”