Belonging to a Highlander Page 10

  Catriona stared at the woman, possibly a few years older than herself, until the servant retreated from sight into the kitchens. She then looked across her shoulder at her husband, but he had hardly noticed and returned to his talk with the other men.

  Would he take exception if she did leave?

  Then Bess's words came back to her and forced Catriona to her feet. The woman who had said those ugly-hearted things to Bess was the one and the same as the servant looking at her husband. Catriona was so sure of this she left the table and stalked to the kitchens.

  She found the small area to be a bustle of women and almost instantly lost her nerve when they one and all stopped in their tasks to look at her.

  "Is aught wrong, milady?" an older, rough looking woman asked. "Is the meal no to your fancy?"

  Catriona shook her head, identifying the older woman as the cook. "Nay, the meal was prepared exceedingly weel, thank you." She turned her attention to the dark-haired beauty with exotic features marking her as a descendant of the Rom. "I've come to have words with that one." She lifted a finger and pointed to the woman, noting that Bess became fidgety in the corner where she was helping the others prepare vegetables.

  "Rowena, you heard her. Step forward, hinny," the cook commanded. She gave a shake of her head, and a hard gleam followed Rowena as the other woman stepped toward Catriona.

  "Did you say something harsh to my maidservant Bess?" Catriona scoured the other woman with her eyes.

  Rowena would not meet her stare. "You shall have to be more specific, milady." There was a trace of scorn there.

  It was as she suspected then. This woman had lain with her husband. Before or after our return? she wondered. But that wasn’t why she was there. Catriona stepped closer so only the other woman could hear her. "If I ever learn of you mistreating Bess again, I'll punish you myself."

  Rowena's head snapped up, her cheeks brightening, and spite shot from her eyes. A twitch of anger ran alongside her nose. She looked on the verge of retaliation, and then, as though she reminded herself to whom she was speaking, she smoothed her ruffled feathers back into place.

  "I stated nothing untrue," Rowena said. "Bess caused trouble in the kitchens this morn. She was in the way. As to punishing me yourself—" her lips quirked upward in a taunting way, "we shall have to see what the laird has to say aboot that." She then flounced around Catriona without waiting for a response.

  Catriona whipped around in time to see the other woman sway from the kitchen area. She balled her fists. A servant had never dared to disrespect her so.

  "Do'na mind her, Lady McCross. That one shall take some adjustin' to your new presence."

  Catriona turned toward the voice at her shoulder to find the short, old cook.

  "I'm Gertie, milady." She made a curtsey, then looked for Bess. Finding her, Gertie motioned Bess over. "I've taken this wee one under my wing, if you do'na mind. I'll show her the ropes round here."

  Catriona smiled at that and the woman's kindness, despite being curious as to why Rowena would need so much adjusting. "That is verra kind. Bess, heed whatever Gertie tells you now."

  Bess bobbed her head excitedly. "Aye, milady. I shall."

  Chapter Twelve

  Later that night, Hugh entered his bedchamber with a heavy sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, tousling the dark locks before running his hand over his face.

  His jaw felt strange with the absence of his beard, yet the lingering ache from Jamie's fists had finally receded. It had been many a year since he'd not sported a beard, though what had grown he kept shortly clipped.

  The absence felt as strange as retiring at such an early hour, also something he had not done in a long time, but what choice did he have? He had hardly been able to control himself at the table. The distraction of speaking with Malcolm and Alaric had not distracted him nearly enough.

  He didn’t even know how to speak to her. What does one converse with his wife about?

  His wife! To think he had a wife was an oddity indeed.

  When she disappeared and he couldn’t find her with his eyes, he had left the table in a search for Catriona, at first out of simple curiosity, but then plans to thwart her clouded his head, and lastly he had become worried. That was when Gertie informed him that his lady had taken to her quarters to retire early.

  Hugh rested against the closed chamber door a moment longer with his hands over his face, until a rustle caught his ear. The sound came from the far left of the room, and he looked up to a stirring, sexual, but unwelcome sight on his bed.

  Rowena.

  How had he forgotten about his leman so soon?

  Rowena's palms pressed into the tick mattress with her knees spread apart, and she pushed herself upward, dipping her back into a low, sexy arch. She hiked her bottom up at Hugh and wiggled her privates at him in an open gesture.

  "Come and have me, laird," she purred.

  "Nay, no tonight, Rowena." Hugh's stare fell from her with disinterest.

  "Nay?"

  He caught her crestfallen look from the corner of his eye as she rose on the bed, quickly falling to her hip and swinging her legs over the side. She crossed the chamber in a purely sexual way, waist length raven hair swaying as she walked. "Would you like me to use my mouth on you then?" she asked, running her tongue over her lips. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she hurried to him.

  Hugh gave her a brief glance and sighed hard, impatiently. "Nay, woman. You have my leave to go." He sat down in a large chair in front of the fire, not at all pleased with finding the wench in his chambers. Had he given her his leave to come here of her own accord before? Wasn’t a summons usually issued?

  He frowned hard.

  The last thing he wanted to deal with was another woman. And, to his dismay, this one did not seem eager to leave even after being told to. He hated being gruff with a lass, but sometimes one had to do what one had to do.

  Rowena came and pressed her large, naked breasts into the back of his head, doing her best to arouse him. Hugh shut his eyes hard. When he pulled forward she rounded the chair quickly and pushed him back, to slide down, straddling him and gave him an open view of her nethers.

  His cock didn't so much as twitch in interest.

  A very bad sign indeed.

  Hugh raked his stare uncomfortably up her, and she gave him a little rotation of her hips before she pouted at him. "Och, it truly must be that bad," she mewed.

  "'Tis none of your concern, woman. Now leave off and go find your bed elsewhere. Perhaps Alaric or Malcolm, or any number of my men might be interested."

  Her brow furrowed deeper, and a sudden hurt pierced her eyes. "Nay, Hugh. You mean to turn me away no just for this night, but for good? For her?" She spat her as though Catriona disgusted her.

  "She is my wife," Hugh roared, pushing her from him and coming to his feet. He took Rowena by the arms and gave her a shake. "She is your lady, and her station commands your respect." Hugh started to turn her about, to escort her to her clothing dropped on the floor by the bedside, and then to the door—but the instant he turned Rowena in his arms, the chamber door opened and Catriona appeared in the gap.

  She stumbled to a stop. Her eyes widened, and a fiery look pinned Hugh where he stood. He gaped at her and she at him.

  "'Tisn't what it looks like, wife," he said.

  Catriona's eyes were round with outrage. Her mouth opened and closed as she floundered with her tongue to catch on an appropriate response. Her eyes turned into daggers as she looked over the two of them.

  Hugh only then realized he still held Rowena. He gave the other woman a nudge to step away.

  At last, Catriona found her tongue. "Nay? Then what exactly is this I am seeing, if it is no what it looks like? For I see a naked whore in your arms, husband. Or am I wrong?" She boldly walked further into the room, crossing her arms over her chest. "Whores are only invited into a mon's chambers for one reason." Her scornful look turned on Rowena.

  Hugh forcefully shove
d Rowena forward. "Go, collect your clothing and be gone." He was angry now. Rowena had no right to tamper with his marriage. "I did'na invite her in," he said, but at the same time knew there was little to convince Catriona of that.

  Catriona crossed her arms, the door at her back, and tapped her foot as Rowena slowly dressed, but when the other woman finished and started to leave, Rowena cast Hugh one last longing look over her shoulder, as though to say he had not convinced her that he was yet done with her. Hugh swept his gaze up the wall to the ceiling and did not watch as the two women met at the door.

  Only when Rowena's footsteps faded did he look down to meet Catriona's hot stare. Pools of deep blue reflected rivulets of hurt and resentment.

  "Och, lass. This is'na what I wished to happen. I meant to … to end things, but I forgot."

  "I'm sure you did." Her reply was icy.

  Hugh shot her a look clearly saying not to question his word.

  To that, Catriona tilted her chin at him.

  "I'll no tolerate your adultery," she said. "I thought I made clear what I consider indecent days past at McBruiey Keep."

  Oh, he remembered well the tongue lashing she had given him the night he found out he would be forced to wed her by more than Jamie's wrath.

  Hugh started for her, but one look from Catriona stopped him. "You’ve my word, lass. I did no invite the wench in. I've no desire to continue any … past relationships."

  Catriona narrowed her eyes, the tempo of her foot tapping increasing.

  "What more do you want me to say?" Hugh planted his hands on his hips.

  "I want you to swear to me that all ties with that woman, and others, for I'm sure you’ve more than one, shall be severed." Her foot stopped tapping, and she lifted a finger, pointing at him with one hard jab. "I'll no tolerate being the subject of ridicule for being treated second to a whore in my own home, as you called it."

  "You'll no have to. You have my word." He laughed at her then, wondering who had put such ideas into her head. "Why is it you think I'm such a lecherous philanderer?"

  She merely snorted at him and glanced across the bedchamber. Hugh followed her line of sight to his tousled bed. It looked as though Rowena had been there a while flouncing around.

  He cleared his throat. "Is there something you desired?" he asked, hoping a change in subject, even temporarily, might improve her mood.

  Catriona narrowed her eyes on him even more and took a few more steps into the room, gathering her hands at her back with a sharp sigh. "I wished to speak with you aboot the garden."

  Something inside his chest fell. What was it? Hope, maybe? Hope that she had come to him ready to share their marital bed? Although, at present, his bed was not in a state to be shared. Not with one's wife. Tomorrow, he would have the servants change the linens and perhaps then…

  It wasn’t often he felt sorrow, but something akin twisted in his stomach along with regret. The encounter the eve before had stoked the desires of hell within him. He wanted Catriona like no other at present—but Rowena had ruined something for him, and he detested that this incident had happened. Recovering Catriona's trust would cost him dear time now.

  Abashed, Hugh cleared his throat again. "Garden?"

  She lifted a brow. "It does'na surprise me that you are no even aware of it." She tsk'd then. "I've a wish to restore the garden behind the keep."

  "Something is wrong with it?" he asked, stalling as an idea presented itself. Hugh approached her, slowly, as to not scare her away.

  She rolled her eyes. "Do I have your leave or no?"

  Hugh stopped before her and reached out to take her gold-streaked hair in his fingers. Her tresses were soft, and he had the urge to bury his face in her hair, in the soft curve of her neck, to kiss her, to discover if her skin was just as soft, or softer.

  He tossed her hair behind her shoulder, his stare intent on her neck. "Nay," he said flatly.

  She balked at him a moment. "Nay?" she repeated, clearly dumbfounded.

  "Nay, but I will give you the chance to change my mind."

  She sucked in a gasp, her spine straightening, and her eyes flashed with suspicion that made Hugh laugh.

  "You would barter with me over this?"

  Hugh nodded and tilted his head back to look down his nose at her with amusement. What boon would he ask in return for allowing her to restore the garden? As she had accused, he had truly not even known he had one.

  "If you’ve a desire to restore the garden, I've a—" his voice dropped a degree into a brogue fairly purring with sensuality, "desire for a kiss."

  Catriona fairly growled at him, her stare locked boldly with his, but whereas Hugh tried to look at her with every ounce of sensuality he possessed, Catriona glared with suspicion.

  "You'll no faint again, will you?" he asked, his voice teasing. He smiled what he hoped was a charming smile.

  Catriona narrowed her eyes on him harder at the reminder.

  Hugh laughed, his laugh also designed to a tone of seduction.

  "A spitting kitten," he said.

  She sputtered and shook her head. "A what?"

  "'Tis what you look like right now, wife. A wee, spitting kitten mad over naught, but hissing nonetheless." He reached up and threaded his fingers through her hair again. The sensation caused a ripple of drawing pleasure in his loins.

  She swallowed hard, her eyes dropped to his mouth. Hugh thought she would actually kiss him, but then she grabbed his hand from her hair and planted a kiss to the backside of his knuckles before tossing his hand away from her.

  "There. Now I have your leave?" she asked, dragging the sleeve of her gown against her lips.

  Befuddled, Hugh stared down on her, looked to his hand, and then tossed back his head and laughed. "Lass, I've more to teach you in regards to kissing than first I thought." Hugh pulled her hard against his body so quickly Catriona had little time to deflect him.

  His lips crushed hers as she squirmed against his body, her fingers grasping at his shoulders, fluttering here and there to push him away. Hugh had none of it and picked her up as he kissed her. One arm wrapped solidly around her waist, one hand to the back of her head, he turned them in a slow, little circle before he set her to her feet again. He deepened the kiss punishingly.

  When his lips broke from hers to graze her neck, she cried out.

  "Hugh," she said, her voice rising high.

  He chuckled against her skin. Though he sat her back down, he didn’t release her. Not yet.

  "You taste as divine as I imagined you would," he said, his voice rumbling against her neck. He delighted in the way she trembled now. Was it possible he affected her as much as she did him? He dearly hoped so.

  "You imagined how I would taste?" she asked dazedly, her voice as high as a moment before.

  Her innocent question burned through him, igniting his passions once more.

  "Aye, I imagined you would taste as sweet as your innocence." He waited to see her blush, and when her cheeks turned a rosy hue, he released her.

  She stumbled back on unsteady feet and brushed vigorously at her dress before her glare returned, though this time her heated look was quite forced, as though she had to concentrate very much to achieve it.

  "How am I to believe that after what you did purposefully, just to humiliate me, in the stairwell at McBruiey Keep? After all that has been said between us, how can you want me this way? Mayhap you do now what you did then."

  Hugh shook his head slowly. "A mon can change his mind. So can a lass. You can trust me." Hugh crossed his arms over his chest. "Now you have my leave."

  Catriona opened her mouth to say something, but whatever it was did not come out. She nodded at him once and started to turn away.

  "You belong in my bed, lass. To warm me through the night," Hugh called to her before she exited his chamber.

  At the door, she turned to peek back at him.

  "I may be your wife, McCross, but as I told you in that stairwell, I'll no be your second choice.
No ever." Her look was full of meaning—sever any prior relationships he’d had before their unexpected marriage and then maybe, just maybe, she might be a true wife to him. "Goodnight," she said lightly.

  When she turned, Hugh remained staring after her, watching the sinuous sway of her hips he had not noticed before. Her allure caught him off guard and left him with a burning fantasy.

  What are my chances of bedding my wife in the near future? he wondered. Weren't wives supposed to be submissive and welcoming of their husband's embrace? Although, he could understand Catriona's reluctance just now.

  "'Tis frustrating," Hugh muttered to the empty chamber, a single imperative in mind as he stalked forward to close the door.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Despite the rather pleasant-but-unpleasant end to his evening that had left him in a desperate state of unsated need, a state that had kept him awake through half the night until sheer exhaustion took over, Hugh whistled a jaunty tune as he walked lively down the steps leading into the hall.

  He was so preoccupied with thoughts on how to work Catriona into his bed tonight that the sudden impact of a small body knocking his into the wall of the corridor completely caught him off guard.

  Hugh froze, blinking on the sultry-eyed lass pressing her palms into his chest.

  "Galena," he said, half in question that that was indeed her name, and half from surprise. He was so off-kilter for a moment he simply stared at the feisty lass with no thought to move just yet.

  She looked pleased, so he assumed he had gotten her name correct. Galena looked overly pleased. An unmistakable sexual prowess entered the deep brown eyes staring back at him.

  Ah, yes. He remembered the lass now.

  A wild one, she was. Willing to do anything he asked in and out of bed, or she had been before their trysts ended.

  Like Rowena, Galena was a rare beauty with an exotic slant to dark eyes. She was all curves in the right places on a slim frame with smooth olive skin and full lips. The lass had accompanied him home from Mercia, to Rowena's displeasure, yet he hadn't found near the pleasure with Galena as he had with Rowena and their relationship—if it could ever have been termed that—hadn’t lasted very long.