Cam left the roundhouse first, leaving Elise inside, while he scanned the area. He knew the Pictish noblewomen indulged in countless affairs and nobody appeared to care.
But Elise was a princess, and he cared deeply that her reputation remained unsullied. She had never taken another warrior, despite his compatriots’ veiled insinuations, and he had no intention of anyone discovering that she had shared herself with him.
The woodland appeared deserted. The sky was obscured by the canopy of leaves, but he guessed it was late in the afternoon. He turned and opened the door and Elise stood there, looking demure and desirable, her veil back in place. But a mischievous smile lit her face and it was hard to remember they had to leave when all he wanted to do was shut the door on the world and take her once again.
“Is it safe?” Her whisper filled with laughter as she stepped outside. Her hair, only partially concealed by her flimsy veil, tumbled in glorious disarray and there was an inviting blush on her cheeks. She looked as though she had been thoroughly fucked. He hoped he was the only one who noticed.
“Aye.” He wanted to take her hand, but an odd reluctance held him back. He glanced over his shoulder but there was nothing but trees and bushes and grass. Yet he couldn’t shift the unformed sense of unease.
“Ah, you are a man of such few words, Cameron MacNeil.” Elise clearly harbored no reservations as she slid her arm through his and hugged him close. “How delightfully refreshing you are.”
He offered her an uncertain frown. She sounded as though she meant every word, but how could that be so? A woman enjoyed flirtatious banter. Elise excelled in the art. It was one of the reasons his fellow warriors found her so charming.
Yet still she had chosen him. It would remain a mystery to him until the moment he died.
But he had no intention of allowing his perplexity in this matter prevent him from enjoying her as often as possible. “Tomorrow is the last day we spend in Ce-eviot. We can go to the roundhouse again in the afternoon.”
“Indeed we could.” She looked up at him as she clung onto his arm and a hollow pain pierced his chest. When they reached Fortriu would MacAlpin allow her to continue onto Fib? He wanted to warn her. But if he did, MacAllister would have his head. And if he died who then could protect Elise from his king’s machinations?
Elise laughed and squeezed his arm. “Why do you look so fierce, brave Scot? To be sure, we could meet here again tomorrow. But I have a better idea.” She raised her eyebrows in an enchanting manner. It was all he could do not to simply stop walking and stare at her instead. “Tonight you must come to my bedchamber.”
He stumbled on a root but even that indignity wasn’t enough to prevent his cock thickening at the thought of visiting Elise in her bedchamber. But of course it was merely a fantasy.
“What of your bodyguard? I’m certain he wouldn’t allow a Scot warrior to enter your chamber unaccompanied.”
Elise waved her free hand in a regal gesture. “It can be arranged. And besides, it is not even as though I’m bound to another anymore.”
Were her vows to mac Uurguist the only reason she’d never taken a lover before him? He contemplated the possibility for a fleeting moment before discarding the notion.
Elise would have told him that the other night if it were true. But something else snagged at his conscience. He wanted to ignore it, but somehow he was compelled to speak.
“But you’re in mourning. I would not wish your people to look on you with disapproval for any reason.” In Dal Riada a widow was expected to remain chaste and above reproach until a new marriage was arranged for her. Of course, many enjoyed an illicit lover but if publicly denounced, the woman’s reputation was ruined.
Elise sighed and gave him a strangely furtive glance. “I wouldn’t blatantly make love with you in the middle of the feasting hall,” she said, and he narrowly avoided tripping over another cursed root. She said the most outrageous things at times. He wasn’t certain whether he should enjoy her remarks as much as he did. “But it’s no great secret that Ferelei and I did not care for each other. I would never disrespect his memory but I won’t allow his passing to spoil what we’ve found together. In any case,” she hesitated and then gave him a strangely sad smile. “We have only weeks together at the very most. In a year, I will be wed again. Should I be denied the pleasure of your company while I remain free, Cameron?”
Relief speared through him that Elise hadn’t cared for that bastard Pict. It was a salve to his conscience knowing he hadn’t been responsible for depriving her of a beloved husband. But with the relief came a bittersweet resignation.
Elise was right. Their liaison would be short lived in the extreme. That knowledge had never bothered him in the past with other women. But the thought of losing Elise to another man didn’t sit right with him at all.
“How shall I reach your bedchamber?’ He’d scale the palace wall to find her if he had to. But he was sure Elise had a different plan in mind.
“I’ll send word to you,” she said, with all the assurance of one who had never had her word denied before. He felt his frown dissolve as he soaked in the radiance of her smile. She was a princess. Of course she was used to having her way. And he certainly had no desire to deny her anything that was within his power to give.
***
When he returned to camp, after ensuring Elise had safely entered the palace, Ross approached. “MacAllister wants to leave Ce tomorrow.” His voice was low. “I don’t trust any of them, Cam. Watch your back.”
“Aye.” Cam had already reached that conclusion. Why had MacAllister changed his mind about leaving? Elise believed she still had two days left in Ce. Whatever the reasoning behind the decision, Cam didn’t trust the king’s man. “I’ll protect the princess with my life, Ross. You know that.”
Ross folded his arms and squinted into the distance. “I have no doubt you will. You’re a loyal bastard. In your boots I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same to mac Uurguist.”
Cam grunted. There was nothing to say in response to that. But he knew what Ross was really saying. That, although he would have executed Cam for disobeying Connor’s orders, he understood Cam’s reasoning behind it.
“I’ve told the men you had nothing to do with his death. But there’s speculation, Cam. No getting away from that. The important thing is, nothing can be tied to you that might lead to repercussions on the Scot-Pict alliance.”
Aye, because nothing was more important than the fucking Scot-Pict alliance. And yet there was little bitterness in his thought. Unlike a few short months ago, he now wanted this alliance to succeed.
Because Elise was a Pict.
Ross turned toward him. There was a calculating gleam in his eye. “So tell me. You and the princess. Have you sampled her charms?”
Cam’s scowl deepened. “I’ve learned one thing about the princess. She shares her charms with no warriors. I’ve a mind to smash Stuart’s skull for slandering her name in the spring.”
“Aye, that doesn’t surprise me. Stuart’s mouth is larger than his brain.” Ross grinned. “But you, Cameron MacNeil, have been singled out by both the princess and the queen. That has to give you an advantage. What I fail to understand is why their heathen gods chose you. Miserable bastard that you are.”
Since Cam didn’t believe in their heathen gods, he could only conclude it was Elise herself who had singled him out. But he was hardly going to tell Ross that.
***
“That he should dare present me with an ultimatum.” The queen stood tall and rigid in the center of her chamber, her rage barely contained. Elise glanced at her grandmother, but the older woman’s face was impassive. “That filthy common Scot. The very air around him reeks of blood and betrayal. I don’t believe I will entrust your safety to any of them after all, Elise.”
“Madam.” Elise stepped toward her aunt and tried to ignore the flare of panic that tightened her chest. The queen couldn’t change her mind now. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Cameron so soon. “MacAllister is doubtless an uncouth savage who deserves nothing but our contempt. But Cameron MacNeil is not the king’s man. He is Connor MacKenzie’s man.”
The queen’s lips thinned. “And you are a royal princess with links to all seven kingdoms of Pictland. You are not to be ordered to leave my domain a day earlier than we decided simply because it suits a foreign dog.”
“You are right.” Elise inclined her head so her aunt wouldn’t see the dismay in her eyes. It was one thing to let the queen know both Elise and Bride looked upon Cameron MacNeil with favor. But she wasn’t certain she wanted her aunt to guess she had taken the Scot as her lover. “But there is little to arrange. Ferelei’s body is prepared and the treasures he brought with him from his last travels are still packed in the wagons. In truth, I would prefer to leave earlier, if it does not offend you.”
“Why should it offend me that you cannot wait to leave my side?” Her aunt’s voice was chilly.
Elise took a deep breath. She hadn’t intended raising the queen’s hopes, but knew she had no choice if she wanted her blessing.
“I believe during this journey, I’ll discover the fate of our hostages.” Because once she was in Dal Riada surely she would not only be able to secure Droston’s freedom but also discover how her father and cousin Talargan fared.
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?”
“I can’t be certain of the outcome. I didn’t wish to promise something I might not be able to fulfill.” She felt her face heating and stared at the floor. She knew she was implying Bride would intervene and share her knowledge with Elise. But she couldn’t tell her aunt the truth—that she intended traveling to Dal Riada herself.
She couldn’t risk the queen flatly denying her permission.
The queen was silent for a moment. “This revelation is connected to the Scot, MacNeil.” It wasn’t a question.
“I believe so.” But unlike a few days ago, when Bride had first thrust Cameron into her path, Elise no longer intended to use him as a means of information. There was no need, not now she had her freedom, both personal and financial.
“Then we shall have a farewell feast in your honor and invite the newly arrived Scots. They had best make the most of it. There shall be no more feasts for them in Ce-eviot until my daughter and son return home.”
The queen turned and swept from the chamber, her ladies following in her wake. Elise went to follow, but her grandmother took her hand and pulled her to a halt.
“I know you plan more than you have told us, Elise.” Her voice was low so no one could overhear. Elise’s stomach knotted with trepidation. Had her grandmother guessed the truth? “The goddess hides your true purpose from me. I can only imagine whatever you intend is with her blessing.”
Elise released a relieved breath. If her grandmother had asked her outright, she knew she could never have lied to her. Thank Bride it hadn’t come to that.
“I serve the goddess in all things, Grandmamma. It’s her path I follow.”
Instead of looking reassured, a troubled frown creased her grandmother’s brow. “Beware, my love,” she said. “Our ways are changing whether we want them to or not. Wherever your path leads you, do not allow Bride’s memory to die.”
A shiver inched over Elise’s arms at the glazed look in her grandmother’s eyes. What did she mean? Of course she would never allow Bride’s memory to die. No matter how many new gods might emerge, the ancient ones would always prevail.
***
The feast was a subdued affair, but Elise had little interest in the restricted platters on offer. She could scarcely keep her gaze from Cameron in spite of how she tried to be circumspect as her status demanded.
Truly, no other warrior, Pict nor Scot, could compare. Even from this distance, she could see the magnificent way his biceps bulged beneath the sleeves of his shirt, the breathtaking width of his chest and the way his black hair glinted in the lamp light.
She shifted on her seat but it did nothing to ease the swollen folds of her pussy. She tried to regulate her uneven breath and calm her racing pulses. But it was impossible. Even when she concentrated on her plate, all she saw in her mind’s eye was the way Cameron had looked at her earlier that day in the roundhouse.
It was a relief when the feast finally ended and the tables were pushed back to the walls. Elise knew there would be gossip and speculation when she didn’t immediately follow the queen from the feasting hall before the entertainment began. But she didn’t care. In her heart, she wasn’t newly widowed. She had been released from an oppressive dungeon fashioned from darkness and fear.
She accepted condolences on her recent loss from several of Connor’s warriors. Not one of them attempted to engage her in flirtatious conversation. It appeared her widowhood had erected an invisible barrier around her and stilted phrases and awkward pauses replaced the previous easy-going manners of the Scots. It also appeared few of them could meet her eyes.
How odd the Scots were in the face of death. Did they treat all widows in such a manner? No wonder Cameron had been concerned for her. Thank all the gods her people were not so inhibited in such matters.
And then a thought slid into her mind. Kila had also been recently widowed, and yet no Scots warrior to her knowledge had been made uncomfortable by her status. Why the difference between them? Was it because Ferelei had not died in battle?
The crowd parted and from across the feasting hall she saw Cameron looking her way, as though he had known exactly where she was. Warmth bloomed deep in her heart and she tried not to let her delight show on her face. What did she care how any other Scot treated her? There was only one warrior whose actions mattered to her.
They met midway as though by chance and not design. He bowed, an economical gesture completely devoid of the extravagance of his countrymen, yet Elise found it perfectly elegant.
“Cameron MacNeil.” She offered him her hand and after a second’s hesitation, he took it and brushed his lips across her knuckles. He held onto her hand longer than protocol dictated before slowly releasing her fingers.
“My lady.” Only two words but they caused her sheath to quiver with delightful anticipation.
“Walk with me.” She gave him a sideways glance as he fell into step beside her and led him through the great doors into the massive entranceway. Warriors, guards and slaves mingled, all busy with their duties or leisure making, and none gave her and Cameron more than a cursory glance.
With seeming nonchalance she strolled around the perimeter until she passed by the concealed staircase. Then she paused and daintily rearranged the folds of her veil. “There is a secret stair behind me, located between the inner and outer walls of the palace. I will send my bodyguard to wait for you at the top of the stair in one hour.”