She was warm. Deliciously warm.
And comfortable. Swathed in soft fabrics. Her head cradled by a down pillow. With a sigh, Sarah turned over and a flash of pain in her forehead made her wince. And then reality crashed through the haze of sleep. Her eyes flew open. She wasn’t alone.
Oh, my goodness… She was lying in Alexander’s arms in a strange bed.
His bed at Blackloch Castle.
A vague memory of Alex carrying her into this room emerged from the cloud of confusion in her mind. She’d been so very cold. And her head ached because of her fall on Rannoch Moor.
She reached up to touch her forehead. Someone had bandaged the wound. And someone had dressed her in a man’s cambric nightshirt and put her to bed.
Alex?
The light in the room was muted and grey, as though snow fell outside, but there was enough for her to be able to see Alex’s face. Sleep softened his harshly handsome features and she only just resisted the urge to trace her fingertips along the blade of his nose, his slashing eyebrows as dark as charcoal, his high cheekbones. To brush the tousled black wing of hair away from his eyelids. He reminded her of a fallen angel. Beautiful yet dangerous. It didn’t help that her body was pressed against his. His hot, hard, practically naked body. Aside from a silk robe that was splayed wide open, he wore nothing but linen smallclothes.
It made her think of all manner of sinful things that a young, unwed woman shouldn’t. Like touching the wide planes of his chest with its intriguing scattering of dark hair. Or kissing the strong line of his neck where his pulse beat. The sharp line of his jaw, shadowed with dark stubble.
His mouth.
Her lips tingled at the memory of his kisses last night. On her own mouth. Her bared breast. When Malcolm had kissed her, it had never felt like that. So intense. So arousing.
So right.
Shocked at the waywardness of her thoughts, she silently berated herself. Stop it, Sarah. You should not be entertaining such wanton notions. It’s not as though you need to try and seduce Alex any longer. And it’s not as though he wants to seduce you either. He’s had ample opportunity but so far he has refused you. What did he say last night? That what you offered wasn’t honest and true?
In a way, he’d been right but it didn’t lessen the sting of his words.
So why was she in Alexander MacIvor’s bed? Whatever his reason, it must be a sound one.
A gilded clock upon the mantelpiece softly chimed the hour—four o’clock in the afternoon—and Sarah carefully slid from the bed and held onto the bedpost for a moment. Her body felt sore and bruised in odd places but her light-headedness seemed to have abated so she tiptoed across the Turkish rug in search of Alex’s dressing room. Once inside, she found the necessary stool behind a silk screen and because the room was chilly, she borrowed one of Alex’s banyans—a dark blue velvet robe. Wrapping it around herself, she hoped he wouldn’t mind. But then, she was already wearing one of his nightshirts.
Before she returned to the main chamber, she caught sight of herself in a full-length looking glass and winced at how dreadful she looked—pale with shadows beneath her eyes and the hair of a hag. Morbid curiosity compelled her to unwrap the linen from her head and she winced again—there was a fair-sized bump a few inches above her right eye, an ugly purple bruise, and an inch-long cut. The bleeding had stopped, so she left the bandage off as she ran her fingers through the worst snarls in her hair.
Unsure of what to do next—she could hardly venture outside of Alex’s room the way she was currently dressed, and the idea of summoning one of the servants felt equally awkward—she crossed back to the bed. She supposed she could sit by the hearth, but the fire had died down and the room was growing colder by the minute. Besides she knew how warm the bed was…
Throwing caution to the wind, she carefully climbed in, hoping not to wake Alex. But her plain failed. As soon as she slipped beneath the covers, he stirred.
‘Sarah,’ he murmured. The heart-melting softness of his smile, the caress of his eyes upon her face sent a ripple of warmth through her, all the way to her toes. ‘You’re awake.’
‘Yes.’
He yawned and ran a hand down his face before easing himself up onto one elbow. ‘I’d wager you’re probably wondering why you’re in my bed.’
‘It did cross my mind,’ she said, giving him a wry smile.
His eyebrows drew together. ‘You were so cold. Aileen and I, we couldn’t rouse you or warm you up.’ He reached out and brushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. ‘I was so worried about you, Sarah… And at the risk of incurring your wrath, I thought it might help if I held you close beneath the covers.’
‘Incurring my wrath hasn’t deterred you from doing anything else before.’
His mouth kicked into a smile. ‘True.’
‘And what you did, it worked,’ she said softly. ‘So how could I be angry with you?’
‘I must say, I’m relieved.’ Alex’s gaze drifted to her forehead. ‘I see you’ve removed your bandage. How is your head?’
‘Sore, but it will heal.’ On an impulse, Sarah reached out and touched his face. ‘You saved me, Alexander MacIvor, Lord Rannoch. Thank you.’
Confusion flickered across Alex’s face. ‘You know my real name.’
‘Yes. I thought you must know that already. Because you brought me here…’
Alex sat up. Even through the silk of his robe she could see his back had stiffened and every muscle vibrated with tension. ‘No. No I didn’t know.’ He turned to look at her. His brow had plunged into a deep frown. ‘How did you learn it?’
Concerned by the change in Alex’s demeanour, Sarah pushed herself up too. ‘When I found the book about Blackloch Castle in the solar at Eilean Dubh—’
‘Which book?’
‘Architectural Antiquities of Scotland.’
‘I’ve never heard of it.’
‘It was in the bookcase,’ explained Sarah. ‘Even though I’d been through all the titles before, I didn’t notice it until this morning.’
‘Hmmm.’ Alex’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. However, he simply added, ‘Please go on.’
‘As I looked through it, I came across a small section on Blackloch Castle and Eilean Dubh. It mentioned it was owned by the chief of Clan MacIvor, Baron Rannoch. When I confronted Isla about it—’
‘You spoke with Isla?’
‘Yes. I don’t want to get her into trouble but…’
Alex reached for her hand. ‘You have to tell me everything, exactly as it happened.’
Relieved Alex didn’t seem angry with her, just concerned, Sarah continued. ‘I showed Isla the book and she confirmed I was correct, that you were the Laird of Blackloch, Lord Rannoch. And that because I knew…’ she trailed off, dropping her gaze to the counterpane, suddenly embarrassed to admit the next part of the tale considering everything Alex had done to save her.
He squeezed her hand and gently prompted her. ‘What did she say?’
Sarah drew a deep breath. ‘She said that because I knew who you were, I must leave Eilean Dubh straightaway. She intimated that you would be angry, and that… you might even dispose of me by drowning me in the loch. To protect your identity.’ Sarah blushed. Even to her own ears, what Isla had said now sounded ridiculous. How must it all sound to Alex?
But it seemed Alex didn’t mind. He blew out a heavy sigh. ‘Oh God, Sarah,’ he said, his eyes soft with compassion. ‘I cannot blame you for thinking the worst of me.’
‘Of course, I didn’t want to believe her,’ she added, ‘but Isla was insistent that I had to go. And because you’d left in anger last night… Well anyway, I didn’t want to miss the only real chance I might have to escape.’
‘I completely understand, Sarah. I would have done the same thing. Tell me what happened next.’
‘Isla dug out your flask of laudanum from your bedchamber and put some in MacLagan’s ale. Then she unlocked the gate and helped me launch the rowboat. She told me it wasn’t safe for me to head east towards Blackloch Castle or the local village. Instead, she said I should head west for about four miles. That I would find a village on Rannoch Moor… but I don’t think there is one.’ Sarah caught and held Alex’s gaze. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
Alex’s jaw tightened and something dark and dangerous flashed in his eyes. ‘Yes, you are. Rannoch Moor is completely deserted and treacherous country. You’d have to journey over fifty miles to reach any village to the west. Isla lied to you. About many things.’
Oh. The knowledge of what Isla had done pressed on Sarah’s chest like a hard heavy weight and her voice, when it emerged, was little more than a whisper. ‘How she must hate me. I wish I knew why.’
Alex’s expression was grim, his voice hard with anger. ‘You can rest assured I will be speaking with her. What she did was wrong. Very wrong. Unforgiveable, in fact.’
‘Yes…’ Knowing that Isla had deliberately tried to harm her was unsettling indeed. Despite the uneasy feeling skittering through her, Sarah attempted a smile. ‘I’m so glad you found me.’
Alex brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. The tenderness in his touch and eyes made her heart beat faster. Made heat ripple through her. ‘Yes. Thank God I did.’
Heavens. Delicious anticipation coiled low inside Sarah’s belly as his gaze dropped to her mouth, but then he raised his eyes to hers again.
‘Sarah, when I set out for Eilean Dubh this morning, I wanted to see you,’ he said, a shadow crossing his face. ‘I wasn’t happy with the way things ended last night. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I shouldn’t have left.’
‘It’s all right.’
‘No, it’s not all right. I’ve been an unthinking, ruthless bastard from the very start. And last night, I all but called you a whore, and you are anything but that. You are the sweetest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and I am truly sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. My thirst for revenge on Lord Tay has made me blind. What I’ve done to you is unforgiveable.’
‘I… I don’t know what to say.’ Of all the things that had happened today, Alex’s heartfelt apology was the most unexpected of all. Hope unfurled in Sarah’s heart. And another sweeter, warmer emotion, but before she had time to think on it, Alex was speaking again.
‘Sarah, I want you to know the whole truth about why I took you. God knows, you deserve it. Then and only then will you be able to choose what happens next.’
Breathless with nerves and expectation, Sarah whispered, ‘What do you mean?’
‘I’m going to let you go, my sweet. Anything that happens between us after that is entirely up to you.’
***
Alex released Sarah’s hand. ‘But before I begin my sorry tale, I think some sustenance is in order, don’t you?’
Sarah blinked as though emerging from a dream. ‘Sorry. What did you say? I still can’t quite believe you just said you’d let me go.’
‘Well, I did and I mean it.’ Poor lass. Alex didn’t blame her for not quite believing her ears. He slid from the bed, pulled his banyan closed, and went to the door. After issuing directions to a footman lurking outside, he returned to Sarah. ‘I promised you hot chocolate on our way back to Blackloch and you haven’t had any yet.’
Sarah’s eyes shone with warmth. ‘That’s very true.’
‘I’m a man of my word.’
She caught his hand and smiled. ‘I’m beginning to see that.’
Alex’s chest swelled. If he weren’t about to bare his soul to Sarah, he would be tempted to kiss her. Her thoughts must have run the same way as her gaze dipped to his mouth, but he knew if they started kissing he wouldn’t want to stop.
No, there would be no more kisses until Sarah truly wanted him for all the right reasons. He wouldn’t take what she couldn’t freely give.
Instead, he dropped a gentle buss on her forehead then retreated to the fireside and threw a few more logs into the grate. Sparks flew and the flames leapt high reminding him of that devastating day, almost eleven years ago when he’d watched Blackloch burn. When he’d watched his dreams and everything and everyone else he’d held dear turn to ashes.
His fingers curled into his palm and he felt the ridge of the scar he’d made years before when he’d vowed bloody vengeance on Tay. Curling his fist tighter, the band of the gold and onyx ring cut into his ring finger. He’d never shared his story with anyone. He’d never trusted anyone enough.
Until now.
Christ, he was going to need a drink or ten to get through this.
With that in mind, he crossed the plush Turkish rug to an oak cabinet and with a shaking hand, poured a sizeable dram of whisky into a cut-glass tumbler. He downed it then poured another.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realise Sarah had drawn close until he heard the creak of a floorboard and the soft rustle of fabric. Turning his head, he found she’d moved to one of the brocade-upholstered settees by the fireside. She’d curled her legs beneath her and his blue velvet robe covered everything except her ankle and one pale slender foot. The nightshirt she wore gaped at the neck and the creamy swell of one of her breasts taunted him.
He gulped at his whisky again. Sweet Jesus she was temptation itself. He’d be hard pressed to string a coherent sentence together, let alone tell his story with her looking so utterly delectable. Despite his resolve not to seduce her, his desire was as acute as ever. And although it was entirely wrong of him, part of him wasn’t the least bit sorry for stealing Sarah away from Tay. ‘Can I get you something? A sherry perhaps?’ he asked in a voice that was far from smooth. ‘Or a blanket?’
She shook her head. ‘No thank you. I’m quite warm enough. And I’m happy to wait for the hot chocolate.’
At that moment, there was a knock at the bedroom door. To save Sarah further scrutiny by his curious staff, Alex put down his whisky glass and went to answer it. As he took the silver tray from the housemaid, Fiona, she bobbed a curtsy. ‘Will that be all, Mr Price?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
He felt the weight of Sarah’s curious stare even before he turned around.
‘Price? You’re also known as Alexander Price?’
Alex returned to the fireside and placed the tray on a low, polished table in front of the settee and the wingback chairs. He raised his eyes to Sarah’s as he passed her a steaming cup of hot chocolate. ‘Yes.’
‘My goodness, you’re a complex man.’ She arched a brow. ‘So what should I call you? Lord Rannoch or Mr Price? Certainly not Mr Black. Although, I must say, it does suit you.’
He took a seat in a brown leather wing chair and retrieved his whisky. ‘I like it when you call me Alex. But in the presence of everyone else, it’s probably best if you refer to me as Mr Price. For now.’
‘Mr Price it is.’ Sarah studied him over the rim of her cup as she took a delicate sip of her hot chocolate. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell me why you do not wish to be addressed as Lord Rannoch?’
‘Aye, I am.’ Alex contemplated his whisky before swallowing another mouthful. His heart had begun to thud uncomfortably. His mouth was dry. It was not like him to be nervous but he couldn’t help but wonder how Sarah would react to everything he was about to tell her. Not only was he about to entrust her with his deepest secrets, he was also going to shock her. Nothing would be the same for either of them after this conversation.
He drew a steadying breath and looked Sarah in the eye. ‘Did you know Lord Tay fought in the Rebellion? The Forty-five? For King George.’
‘Yes I did. Father told me he commanded one of the Campbell regiments.’ Sarah frowned at him. ‘Did you fight as well?’
‘Yes.’ He held her gaze. ‘But not for George. For the Pretender.’
Comprehension lit Sarah’s eyes. ‘You’re a Jacobite,’ she whispered.
‘Aye.’
‘Heavens…’ Sarah put down her cup very carefully. ‘And now you are using a false name which means…’ Her frown deepened. ‘You haven’t been pardoned yet, have you? You’re a wanted man. Wanted for treason.’
Alex tapped his nose. ‘You’re a canny lass.’
‘If you are still wanted, then how…?’ Sarah gestured around the room. ‘Blackloch Castle is your home and somehow you have managed to become the laird again. You’re a veritable phoenix. I cannot imagine how you’ve achieved such a thing.’
‘How I was able to reinvent myself is rather a long story. But I have. And now most of society, both in Scotland and farther afield, know me as Alexander Price, the new Laird of Blackloch. Only a handful of people—people whom I trust implicitly—know who I really am. Know about my past.’
Sarah inclined her head. ‘Then I am honoured you are taking me into your confidence.’
‘I have debated with myself long and hard about sharing my history with you. And my history with Lord Tay—’ He broke off and took another sip of his whisky to fortify himself for his next disclosure. ‘Are you sure you don’t want something stronger to drink than hot chocolate, Sarah?’
Her eyebrows drew together. ‘I don’t think I like the sound of that. But I’ll have a sherry if you think it will help.’
‘I do.’
Alex poured a decent amount of Spanish sherry into a crystal glass, and after taking a sip, Sarah fastened him with a look that was both determined and grave. ‘What happened, Alex? Tell me everything. I’m dying to know.’
***
Alex took a seat beside her on the settee. ‘The MacIvors of Rannoch and Campbells of Tay have long been rivals. Reiving each other’s cattle. The odd skirmish here and there over adjacent territory. My father and Malcolm’s, Angus, the former Earl of Tay, were involved in a legal dispute over a parcel of land about seventeen years ago. And I’d had the dubious pleasure of meeting Malcolm about a year before the Rebellion broke out. We played several rounds of faro at a club in Edinburgh and he was none too pleased when I trounced him; he threatened to call me out for cheating but I didn’t take the bait. I had better things to do than fight a coxcomb like him. He’d recently inherited his father’s title and was full of bluster and bravado. I suppose it was inevitable that we would be on opposite sides of the battlefield during the Rebellion.’
‘Did you fight against Malcolm?’ Sarah asked quietly.
‘No, I never met him on the battlefield. Although I wished to God I had. Then he wouldn’t have…’ Alex swallowed and pinched the bridge of his nose
The anguish in Alex’s voice sent a frisson of apprehension through Sarah. ‘Then he wouldn’t have what?’
Alex raised his head and met her gaze. ‘Have you heard about the Battle of Culloden? On Drumossie Moor.’
‘Yes. Your side was defeated.’
‘We were slaughtered.’
Sarah swallowed. ‘You were there?’
‘Aye.’
‘I can’t even begin to fathom what that must have been like.’ From what she’d heard, it was a miracle Alex had survived. The English, under the command of ‘Butcher’ Cumberland, had crushed the Jacobite army in the space of an hour.
Alex wiped a hand down his face before continuing. ‘My father, Lachlan MacIvor, the sixth Baron Rannoch and our chief, led out the clan after Charles Edward Stuart raised the standard at Glenfinnan. Two hundred and ten men strong we were. We joined the Jacobite army on the eve of the Battle of Gladsmuir. By the time the Jacobite forces gathered to fight at Drumossie Moor, our contingent of Clan MacIvor men had been reduced to less than half that. And after Culloden, I was the only man from our clan left standing.’
‘Oh, my God, Alex. All those men… And your father was killed too?’
‘Aye. He was shot… And so was I. In the thigh.’ Alex rubbed his right leg and stared off into the fire. A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘I really don’t know how I managed to get away, but somehow I did… God, it was awful.’
Sarah wanted to reach out and touch him, to offer comfort, but he seemed so tense and withdrawn, she wasn’t sure how he would respond. Instead, she waited, sipping her sherry, trying to ignore the knots in her belly and the odd flutter of her heart.
Eventually, Alex continued. ‘As I mentioned, I didn’t meet Malcolm Campbell on the battlefield, but I knew the Campbells of Tay were present at Culloden. At any rate, after I escaped the horrors of Drumossie Moor, I made my way back here to Blackloch. You see, my mother, my younger sister, and my affianced were here. I thought they might need me. With most of the clansmen gone, they’d been left to fend for themselves.’
‘You were engaged?’
‘Aye.’ Alex’s mouth curved into a bittersweet smile. ‘To a sweet lass named Maggie Stewart. She came to live at Blackloch when she was sixteen, and I was eighteen. She was pretty and lively and I was thoroughly enchanted by her. Her father, Lord Comyn, was a distant cousin on my father’s side. When Lord Comyn passed away, she became my father’s ward. I proposed to her right before we left to join the Jacobite army. If I hadn’t gone…’ He shook his head.
‘You weren’t to know what would happen. And how could you not support your father?’
‘Aye. You speak sense but it doesn’t ease the guilt.’ He sighed and rubbed his thigh again as though it still pained him. ‘My leg injury slowed me down so it took me well over a week to ride the ninety miles from Culloden to Blackloch. There were times when I’d had to lie low to avoid being captured by patrolling dragoons, or make a detour through remote countryside. And there were times when I could barely sit in the saddle. To be honest, most of that period is a nightmarish blur. But somehow, I made it back home. Only when I got here, it was to discover that Lord Tay and his men, en route to Taymoor Castle, had arrived first.’
Oh, no. Oh, dear God no.
Alex’s eyes met hers. ‘Sarah, I don’t know if you’ve heard much about the reprisals disloyal clans suffered after Culloden, but Cumberland encouraged his men and those clans loyal to King George, to give no quarter to any Jacobite, or to any folk that had supported the cause. The abuses were widespread. The acts committed, reprehensible… barbaric. And I’m afraid Lord Tay was more than happy to lend a hand.’
‘What did he do?’ Sarah’s voice was little more than a whisper.
‘Aileen has told me that she was with my mother when Lord Tay and his men arrived to subdue the “traitorous and troublesome MacIvors” once and for all. She’d been settling a dispute between two clanswomen in the Great Hall. Apparently my ten-year-old sister, Anne, was with Maggie, in the garden behind the castle, picking roses. My mother believed she could reason with Lord Tay—after all, she was Lady Rannoch, a baroness.’
‘She sounds like a remarkable woman.’
‘Aye, she was indeed. Fearless and intelligent, she’d been acting as clan chief and managing the estate in my father’s absence. And selfless to the very last. Before Tay entered the Hall, she ordered the clanswomen and Aileen, who was Blackloch’s housekeeper, to take Isla, who was only twelve years old and in training to be a maid, to hide in the priest hole below the main staircase. And she sent one of the male servants out to the gardens to find Anne and Maggie.’
‘I had no idea Aileen had been in your service for such a long time. Or Isla.’
‘Dobson too. He and Aileen are married.’
‘Oh, I didn’t know that either. But, please go on. I’ve interrupted you.’
Alex reached for her hand and the sense of foreboding that gripped Sarah made the hair rise on the back of her neck.
‘Aileen said that my mother… She ordered Lord Tay to leave but he merely laughed and then Aileen heard her scream and beg for mercy. But he didn’t heed her. He—’ Alex wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. ‘He raped my mother. And when he was done, he ran her through with his sword.’
‘Oh, my God.’ A wave of horror washed through Sarah. Her stomach roiled. ‘How could he? That’s… that’s appalling. Abominable.’
Alex’s mouth twisted. ‘Aye.’
‘Oh, Alex. I am so, so sorry.’
‘’Tis not your fault, lass. The problem with blood lust is that once it rampages through a man’s veins, it’s hard to stem the flow. I cannot say for sure but I think Tay got a taste for inflicting pain and killing on the battlefield, and once he was given permission by Cumberland to run amuck, he couldn’t stop.’
Not wanting to hear the rest, but knowing she would not be satisfied until she knew everything, Sarah asked, ‘What else did he do, Alex? If you can bear to tell me. This must be so difficult for you. To talk about this.’
‘I can stand it, Sarah. The telling is not as bad as living through it.’
‘I do not doubt it.’
‘So…’ Alex threw back the rest of his whisky and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. A hand that shook. ‘Aileen tells me she hid in the priest hole for well over an hour, perhaps two, covering Isla’s ears whilst she listened to everything that was going on. Tay gave his men carte blanche to do whatever they wanted to with the servants, both men and women. And then she smelled smoke. She thinks it was about that time I stumbled upon the scene.’
‘Oh, Alex.’
‘Before I even saw Blackloch, I knew something was wrong because I smelled the smoke. Tay had set the castle on fire. The east wing. I dismounted in the woods not far from the edge of the loch and skirted the edge of the trees. My injured leg slowed me down but there wasn’t much I could do about it. As I approached I could hear screams and cries. But worse than that, the sound of men laughing and shouting as if they were making merry. It was the sound of hell.’
Sarah held her breath, wanting yet dreading to hear the rest.
‘I have no idea how many men were there. Too many at any rate. And I was just one man. A wounded man. But the blood lust took hold of me too. I’d lost my musket on the battlefield but I still had my sword and my dirk. I cut my way through as many bastards as I could until I reached the Great Hall. And my mother.’
Alex closed his eyes. His shoulders heaved with emotion and Sarah watched his furious expression bleed into grief. ‘When I saw her… just lying there on the flagstones with her eyes open but unseeing… the gaping wound in her belly, I couldn’t move, Sarah. And then, like the Devil himself, Tay appeared out of the smoke, heading for the door. Heading towards me. Blackloch’s main wing was also burning by then, and he was coughing, but as soon as he laid eyes on me, despite my putrid state, he knew me. I lunged toward him, but I hadn’t seen the pistol in his hand. And he shot me. In the shoulder. I don’t remember much after that as when I fell, I hit my head on the flagstones and was knocked out cold.’
Tears misted Sarah’s eyes. How could she have ever fancied herself in love with such an evil man? ‘You’re lucky you weren’t killed,’ she whispered.
‘Aileen told me later that she’d recognised my voice—apparently I’d shouted at Tay. After she heard the shot, then nothing else, she waited another five, perhaps ten minutes before emerging from the priest’s hole. Tay and his men had gone so she was able to get Isla out safely, and then she and the clanswomen pulled me out of the Great Hall before it began to burn.’
‘Blackloch still stands though. How was it saved?’
‘Heaven must have taken pity, as rain began to pour down, extinguishing most of the blaze so some of the castle was spared. The west wing and some sections of the main keep. And after I had established myself as Alexander Price, I was able to purchase the forfeited estate. Over the past five years, I’ve had the castle rebuilt.’
‘I cannot imagine how you’ve accomplished so much in the face of such tragedy and terrible loss, Alex.’
‘I will not lie, lass. It hasn’t been easy.’
‘At the risk of upsetting you further, may I ask what became of your sister… and Maggie?’
With an abruptness that startled her, Alex stood strode over to the drinks cabinet to pour himself another measure of whisky.
‘I’m sorry. I ask too much of you.’
‘No. It’s all right.’ Alex returned to his seat. ‘You have a right to know all this too. I hesitate because of the pain you must feel, Sarah. It cannot be easy hearing the man you were to wed is capable of such horrific things.’
‘It isn’t. But I think it’s important that I know the truth. No matter how terrible.’
‘Yes.’ A crease appeared between Alex’s brows and his grey eyes glistened. ‘My poor little sister, my bonnie Anne, she’d been run through too. Dobson—he’d been conducting business in the village of Kinloch, about ten miles away, when everything happened—he found her in the rose garden later on. Alone.’
Sarah could hardly make her lips move. ‘And Maggie?’
Alex’s throat worked in an audible swallow. ‘Tay’s men had dragged her into a copse of trees and had used her. I don’t know how many or if Tay participated in her brutalisation, but when they were done with her, someone slit her throat.’
‘Oh, dear God.’ Bile rose in Sarah’s throat; horror and grief and anger coursed through her veins. Made her heart pound so hard, she could hear the beat of it in her ears. How could I not have known… Could I not have seen Malcolm for who he truly is?
A monster in truth.
The Devil himself.
Those hands that had touched her, had committed acts too foul and unjust to think of. Those lips that had whispered sweet words of wooing, lips that had kissed her, had issued depraved orders, commanding men to defile and murder innocents.
She reached out and clasped Alex’s hand. ‘Words cannot express what I feel right now,’ she whispered in a voice choked with tears. ‘No wonder you hate him so. I hate him too.’
Alex cupped her cheek and gently brushed her tears away with his thumb. ‘I know I could have come to you at Linden Hall months ago to tell you all this, instead of kidnapping you to hurt Tay. But I didn’t know if you would believe me. Not only that, because I’m a wanted man, I couldn’t risk sharing my past with you, not until I knew you’d understand what was at stake.’
Sarah covered his hand with hers. ‘You can trust me, Alex. I won’t betray your secrets.’
His gaze grew dark. Troubled. And he withdrew his hand. ‘You have every right to condemn me, Sarah. I’ve been consumed with dark, bloody anger for so long, I’m afraid I’ve become that which I despise.’
‘No.’ Sarah shook her head. ‘You are not like Malcolm. Don’t you dare think it. Not for a minute.’
Anguish flashed in Alex’s eyes. ‘But in the process of exacting my pound of flesh, I’ve hurt you.’
‘I will heal. And I completely understand your need to avenge those you loved. I forgive you, Alexander MacIvor. With all my heart, I forgive you.’
Alex’s wide mouth curved into a soft smile. ‘God knows, I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but thank you.’
Sarah’s pulse began to race. Perhaps it was the effect of Alex’s smile. Perhaps it was because his firm leg was pressed against hers and they were both barely dressed. Perhaps it was because his warm gaze made her feel cherished. Whatever the reason, she couldn’t deny what was in her heart any longer. ‘You said earlier that once I’d heard the truth, you’d set me free and I could choose what would happen next.’
‘Yes, I did.’ Alex focused his attention on her mouth before his gaze returned to meet hers. ‘And what is that, Sarah Lambert? What do you choose?’
The flare of heat in his eyes gave Sarah courage. His invitation was clear. Raising her hand, she brushed her fingertips along Alex’s strong jaw before leaning closer. Her mouth hovered a breath away from his. ‘I choose this,’ she whispered. ‘I choose you.’ And then she kissed him.
As her lips touched Alex’s, he growled deep in his throat and captured her face with his hands. Tilting her head, he angled his mouth over hers, claiming her. His hot, hungry tongue tasted her lips and she opened for him, inviting him to delve inside with a beckoning flicker of her own tongue.
With a groan, he entered her completely and the flavour of whisky filled her mouth, intoxicating her, scattering all thought. Nothing existed except the silken slide of Alex’s lips and the velvet, swirling caress of his tongue. Desire heated her blood, made her bold, and she slipped her hands inside Alex’s robe, seeking the sleek, hard flesh beneath. Her fingers splayed over his heavy pectoral muscles and she felt his nipples pebble beneath her palms. A maddening pulse, low in her belly, had her shifting uneasily in her seat.
Perhaps sensing her need, Alex slid her onto his lap and she felt the evidence of his own arousal; his silk robe had fallen open and the press of his thick member against her thigh couldn’t be concealed by his linen smallclothes. Curious, she boldly slid her hand downwards to cup the hot, hard length of him, and he sucked in a breath, breaking the kiss. ‘You are not at all shy, my sweet,’ he murmured thickly.
She bit her lip, suddenly uncertain that she’d gone too far. That she’d shocked Alex. ‘Does that bother you?’
His smile was pure lust. ‘Not at all. I love how fearless you are. How wild. I have another secret to confess.’ He pressed his lips to her ear. ‘You are driving me wild too.’
Alex pushed the blue velvet robe off her shoulders then buried his face in her neck, his mouth nuzzling and nipping, his rough stubble grazing her flesh. Hot shivers danced over Sarah’s skin as his tongue traced along the line of her collarbone. When his lips fastened around one of her nipples and he suckled her through the cambric of his nightshirt, molten pleasure blasted through her.
Breathless with want, barely able to speak, she tugged on the silky black tresses of his unbound hair. ‘Alex.’
He mistook her desperate plea for more as uncertainty, as he immediately raised his head. ‘How far do you want to take this, Sarah?’ he said, his voice low and rough. His eyes, a dark burning grey, searched hers. ‘We can stop at any time.’
‘No. I don’t want to stop.’ She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Her bravado was faltering. ‘I want…’ Dare she admit what she truly wanted? How she really felt? What if he didn’t believe her? What if he thought her feelings weren’t genuine? They’d been at this point before. And he’d rejected her. She didn’t think she could bear it if he did so again. Not when her heart pounded for him. Not when her body ached for him.
Alex seemed to recognise the reason for her hesitation. ‘I’ve made you doubt me.’ He stroked the hair back from her face. ‘And I’m to blame.’ He tilted her chin up, trapping her gaze. ‘Would it help if I told you I’m mad for you? And I think I have been since the moment I first saw you at Kenmuir House. But what I feel now, it’s more than lust. And being the blind fool that I am, I didn’t realise it until I almost lost you today. I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you, Sarah. And even though it’s unlikely that you could possibly feel the same—’
Sarah pressed a finger to his lips. Tears filled her eyes and joy flooded her heart. ‘But I do. I love you too.’
Alex’s voice was a shocked whisper. ‘Truly?’
Sarah smiled through her tears. ‘Yes. Truly.’
‘Say you’ll be mine, Sarah Lambert.’
‘Alexander MacIvor, I’m yours.’
With a triumphant growl, Alex lifted her and crossed the room to the bed. After laying her on the pillows, he swiftly shed his robe and undergarments and stood before her in all his naked glory.
Sarah’s gaze travelled over him, noting the pucker of angry red scars on his left shoulder and on his right thigh. But they did nothing to mar his rampant male beauty. He was lean and well muscled and her fingers itched to explore every inch of his hard flesh—including his impressively erect member. Rising proudly from a tangled nest of black hair, she supposed she should have found the sight of his fearsome cockstand intimidating. But she didn’t. If anything, the heavy ache to have him between her thighs, filling her, intensified.
She reached out a hand. ‘Come to bed,’ she whispered but Alex shook his head.
‘Not until you are naked too, my sweet.’
A strange nervous thrill skittered through Sarah as she rose to her knees and shrugged off Alex’s robe. She’d never been naked in front of a man before, but whilst the maidenly part of her quailed, the reckless, wanton part of her wanted to do this. As she grasped the hem of the nightshirt, and lifted it to her waist, she could have sworn Alex held his breath. And then she closed her eyes and wrenched it off.
When she ventured a glance at Alex again, this time she felt nothing but a deep thrill of satisfaction. His eyes, heavy-lidded and dark with lust, raked over her, devouring her. Such a heady sensation to feel so desired. And treasured.
Before she could utter a word, Alex pushed her onto the bed and slid over her, hovering on his forearms, the thick cords of muscles in his arms tense and bulging. The furnace like heat of his body set her own skin aflame. The hard heavy length of his manhood pressing against her lower belly sent her need spiralling.
‘I want to touch you.’ Her hands grasped his biceps and wrapped around the bunched muscles. Her fingertips travelled over the hard planes of his chest, exploring the light whorls of dark hair. His tight bronze nipples. She ventured lower, tracing along the line of a rib. The ridges of muscle along his abdomen.
Alex watched her the whole time she played, an indulgent yet hungry wolf. Until her fingers curled around the rigid yet velvet smooth shaft of his cockstand… then a sharp hiss escaped him. ‘Careful, lass. If you keep touching me like that, you’ll make me come off too soon.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’
He hushed her with a searing kiss. ‘It’s all right. I just want to pleasure you first before seeking my release.’
‘Pleasure me? That sounds positively wonderful and wicked at the same time.’
His mouth kicked into a sinful smile as his hand found one of her breasts. ‘Aye. It is. Just you wait and see.’
Alex lowered his head and flicked his tongue over her nipple, and she gasped, arching into him. His mouth curved into a smile before he swirled his tongue around and around the tight peak then gently surrounded it with his lips, suckling delicately. All the while, he plucked and rolled her other nipple with his fingers. Delicious tremors shot through her, all the way to her most secret place. The place that now throbbed with sharp arousal and was slick with desire.
Brimming with restless energy, she parted her legs beneath Alex and instinctively tilted her hips so that her sex brushed against his shaft. A low growl vibrated in Alex’s throat and he transferred his mouth to her other breast. His wicked ministrations were maddening and it wasn’t long before Sarah was writhing beneath him. ‘Please,’ she whispered, as she scraped her nails down Alex’s strong back. She didn’t know what she wanted exactly but she was sure Alex could give her what she craved.
He kissed her mouth again and rolled alongside her. At the same time, his hand skimmed down her belly and ruffled the curls hiding her mound before slipping between her thighs. ‘Is this want you want, Sarah?’ he whispered as one of his long fingers caressed the damp seam of her sex. ‘Do you want me to touch you here?’
‘Yes.’ She parted her legs and pushed against his questing finger. ‘Yes please.’ Desperation made her bold.
‘Your wish is my command, sweetheart.’ Alex slid his finger between her wet folds and pressed against something—a small nub—that made her gasp with pleasure.
‘Oh,’ she whispered.
‘Oh indeed.’ Alex lay on his side, his weight on one elbow, watching her face. His finger teased the same exquisitely sensitive spot, circling, stroking, mercilessly flicking, fanning the flames of her desire. Closing her eyes, she clutched at Alex’s shoulder and rocked against his hand, panting, craving, wanting something wonderful that just lay out of reach.
Alex’s mouth covered hers and as he kissed her, everything inside her pulled tight… and then a bright burst of pulsating pleasure swept through her, carrying her away on a glorious wave to a place of blissful satisfaction.
When she opened her eyes, Alex was smiling down at her, his grey eyes soft and warm. ‘So, was it both wonderful and wicked?’
Sarah smiled back. ‘Yes. You know it was.’
‘Good.’ Alex moved over her. Taking his weight on his forearms, he settled himself between her parted thighs. ‘Let’s see if we can find pleasure, together.’
***
Sarah brushed the tousled hair back from his brow. ‘I would love that,’ she whispered.
A surge of tenderness flooded Alex’s heart. Even though his cock pulsated with need, and he would like nothing more than to bury himself to the balls in Sarah’s liquid heat, he wanted to make sure her first time was enjoyable. ‘I’m afraid this will hurt at first, lass,’ he warned as he used one hand to position himself between her drenched folds.
‘I can bear it. I want you inside me. I want to be yours in truth.’
Alex groaned. Dear God, her words would have him spending before he’d even entered her. He dropped a kiss on her sweet lips. ‘I want that too, my love. I will be as gentle as I can.’
A small crease appeared between Sarah’s brows as the head of his cock pressed against her entrance. She closed her eyes as he tilted his hips forward and pushed farther in. She was so very tight, and hot and wet. As he rocked forward again, her breath caught and her frown deepened. Her fingernails dug into his back.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered, withdrawing a fraction.
She opened her eyes and offered a tremulous smile. ‘I’m fine. I just feel very… full.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right then.’ Gritting his teeth against the overwhelming urge to pound into her mindlessly, Alex surged forward again then groaned with pleasure as the satiny heat of Sarah’s sex completely enveloped him. Beneath him, Sarah’s body tensed, but as he rained gentle kisses across her brow and her cheeks, she released a soft sigh.
‘Ready for more, lass?’
She slid her hands to his tightly bunched buttocks. ‘Yes please.’
Alex slid out ever so slowly then on a smooth glide, thrust back into her welcoming warmth. The tight clasp of her inner sheath about his throbbing length was indescribable. Lowering his head, he plundered her mouth with a ravenous kiss.
A delicious moan slipped from Sarah as he set up a gentle rhythm. Her legs wrapped around his and she began to rock her pelvis, meeting him thrust for thrust, and it wasn’t long before he succumbed to the urge to increase the pace. The pressure, the need for release was piling up inside him like an approaching storm. But he wanted to make sure Sarah achieved satisfaction again. Taking his weight on one arm, he slid his hand between them and caressed the sensitive nub at the apex of her quim. Almost immediately she cried out and clutched his shoulders, her sex clenching and rippling around him, her body quaking with the force of her climax.
He couldn’t hold on. His blood roaring, his control fraying, he frantically pounded into Sarah, hurtling headlong towards beautiful oblivion. With an almighty groan of elation, his balls tightened, his body bucked and a cataclysmic release threw him heavenward.
Sweet Jesus. Had sexual congress ever felt so sublime?
He didn’t think so. His breath sawing, his heart pounding, he pushed himself up and gazed down at the beautiful angel in his arms.
His voice was no more than a hoarse whisper when he was able to speak. ‘My beautiful, Sarah. God, how I love you.’ Knowing he was being a brute for demanding more of her, but unable to resist temptation, he swooped down and seized her mouth in an ardent kiss.
Her fingers speared into his hair and she kissed him back with equal ferocity. ‘I love you too, Alexander,’ she whispered when he drew back.
‘You know under Scots law, we’re as good as wed now.’
Sarah’s eyebrows rose. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, really. We’ve exchanged vows of commitment and consummated our union. And now we’re handfasted.’
She pouted prettily. ‘Well, you might have warned me.’
‘What?’ He laughed. ‘You don’t wish to be wed to me?’
Mirth sparkled in her blue eyes. ‘A proposal would have been nice. And a wedding before God in a church.’
‘You’re right.’ Buried deep inside her, his body humming with pleasure, he couldn’t think of a more perfect way to offer for her hand. ‘Sarah Lambert, would you do me the untold honour of consenting to be my wife?’
‘And who shall I be marrying?’ She arched an elegant brow but her eyes twinkled with mischief. ‘Mr Price or Lord Rannoch?’
Alex frowned. She was right. ‘Does it matter?’ He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
‘Of course not,’ she said, stroking his cheek. ‘Not to me. Only it might matter when we have children.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ve made you upset.’
‘No. Don’t even think it.’ Alex kissed her again before adding, ‘I know someone who might be able to help me reclaim my title.’
‘You do?’ A smile lit Sarah’s eyes. ‘That’s wonderful.’
‘Yes. Only…’ How to tell her the next part, the woman he loved. ‘There’s always the risk that I might not be granted a pardon. That things might go wrong.’ Such as being arrested and tried for treason… Being executed…
‘Oh…’ A deep furrow appeared between Sarah’s brows.
‘Do not fret, my love. I’m sure everything will work out.’ God, he hoped so.
‘I believe you. And whatever you decide, I’ll be there by your side, as Sarah Price, Sarah MacIvor, or even Sarah Black.’
‘So is that an unqualified yes?’
Sarah’s smile was a balm for his blighted soul. ‘Yes, Alexander. Indeed it is.’
Alex cupped her face and brushed his lips across hers, savouring her sweetness. ‘Thank you. You’ve made me happier than you’ll ever know.’
Gathering her into his arms, he tucked her head beneath his chin. ‘Sleep now, my sweet, Sarah,’ he whispered. ‘We shall work out where we go from here, tomorrow.’