Chapter Eleven
Elle didn’t know where to go, she just knew she wanted to get as far away from this place as possible. Aye, she’d been a fool to trust that these strangers would protect her. Not that she blamed Darach. The man had proven himself true to his word. But how could she expect him to defy his own sire? The laird had admitted to sending a missive to Orkeneyjar. Though the purpose remained unclear, she could easily guess why.
To be rid of her.
No one tried to stop Elle as she passed through the gates. Her personal guard wasn’t at his post outside her door, that’s how she’d made it to the great hall without being stopped. When she’d arrived in the middle of what appeared to be a very official meeting, she’d decided to take her leave—until she overheard her name spoken. In her mind, that gave her every right to stay and listen.
Her future depended on what these men of power decided. The threat of rape by Captain Cameron, followed by the fact that the laird obviously didn’t want her here, had been all she could take. Fear and anger unleashed inside her, causing her to cry out.
She followed a well-worn footpath to the nearby loch. It stretched wide and long, the water glistening under the sunlight. Recent thoughts rushed back—better to die with pride and honor than grovel and slowly waste away from a broken heart and inconsolable spirit. A watery grave would be a fitting end for a Norse-born woman. Tempted by the cold, dark depths, she kicked off her leather boots, then began to unlace the front of her gown.
If anyone bothered to recover her body, would she be given a Christian burial or burned upon a pyre? Then she remembered that anyone who took their own life was unfit to be buried on consecrated ground. She stopped undressing and sucked in a ragged breath, her chest tight with sorrow.
“Give me peace,” she whispered to God. “A reason to take another breath.”
“Am I reason enough?” Darach’s rich, deep voice made her forget everything. She spun about, relieved to see him, but unwilling to admit it. “What are ye doing, lass?”
She shrugged and looked away, focusing on the loch again—silently answering his question.
“Tell me it isn’t true,” he pleaded, gripping her by the shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. “Look at me, Elle. After everything ye’ve been through—ye’d consider taking yer own life?”
She gazed at him. “I did not say it.”
“Yer eyes betray ye, lass.”
“Twas only a fleeting thought,” she confessed.
“A damnable offense in the eyes of the Almighty. No man can enter the kingdom of Heaven that has ended his own life. Tis a coward’s way.”
She shook her head. “I am not a man, Darach. And if ye wish to call me a coward, I will not deny it. I am weak.”
Darach released her and waved his arms. “How much of our conversation did ye hear?”
“Enough to know that I’d rather die than be sent to Orkeneyjar. Or be given as a sacrificial lamb to your captains.”
“Is that what ye really think of me? Or my sire? That we’d stand by and let anyone violate ye?”
Tears filled her eyes as she tried to keep his fierce face in focus. “I—I do not know what to think. How can ye feel anything for me? I am nothing but a stranger, a nameless girl you rescued from a longship. There is no reason for you to protect me, to risk your future on whether or not I am safe.”
“Damn ye, woman.” He came at her, but stopped short, a mix of intense emotions darkening his features. “Born half Scot but ye know nothing of our honor. A Scot would die before he broke a vow. Whether it be of the holy sort or made to a woman he just set eyes upon a week ago. My word is my word, Elle.”
“And what am I to you, Darach?”
She needed to know. Let him finally confirm what she could only guess at. Darach wanted her in ways she couldn’t understand. Elle knew what men and women did together in the dark—though she’d never seen it before—or felt it.
“Make sure ye are ready for my words, lass. Yer innocence is a sacred gift. And I’m not the kind of man who toys with a virgin’s heart. If ye come to me willingly, I will not turn ye away, for I thirst for ye, Elle. Endlessly. Night and day.”
She swallowed hard, studying his form. His hands were balled into fists at his sides, his shoulders tense, and he stood with his feet wide apart, looking like a man ready to burst.
She raised her chin and looked him directly in the eyes. “I, too, thirst.”
The second she felt his hot hands on her arms, she knew what she had done—given him permission to take her. And she didn’t regret it. His lips came down hard over hers, claiming her mouth with a ferocity that excited her. She clawed at his back, digging her fingernails into his flesh, intentionally marking him, calling the beast she knew was locked up inside him.
“Elle,” he groaned between breaths, his hands circling up her back as he hugged her close. “My forbidden fruit.” He cupped her breasts then, throwing his head back, sucking a breath in through clenched teeth. “Ye have no idea what I could do with ye—what danger ye are truly in.”
Heat radiated down her body, reaching her core. It lit her up like a thousand torches, prickling her skin, making her feel more aware and alive than she’d ever been. “Do you think me dead from the waist down because I am a maiden?” she asked, shocked by her own words. “I’ve spent eight long days and nights shut up in that bedchamber, alone with my dark thoughts and body. The only comfort I had was envisioning your face—wondering what it would feel like to be in your arms again.”
“One taste of ye has turned me into a madman, Elle. And though I cannot make any promises for what the future holds, I will fight for ye. That much I know.” He stepped back then, taking her hands in his, then dropped to his knee. “Ye have my pledge, Elle. To protect ye from anyone who threatens yer life. Even if it means defying my own sire. I will see ye safely to yer clan, the MacAlpin’s. So help me God,” he swore.
Overwhelmed by his oath, Elle’s legs gave out and she dropped to her knees, eye-to-eye with Darach. “You’d do this for me?”
“Aye.”
Very gently, Elle fisted her hands in the front of Darach’s tunic and tugged him on top of her as she lay down in the soft grass and heather. His powerful body covered her like a shield, making her feel safe. She fumbled awkwardly with his clothing, wanting him to shed his tunic so she could see his muscled body.
Darach gave her what she wanted, stripping the cloth off, then dipping down and claiming her lips again, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth. That’s when Elle discovered she had no control over her body. She wanted him in every way. Though he’d offered no troth, she didn’t care. A woman with no family or home should take comfort where she could find it, especially with an honorable man like Darach. “I’d rather give my maidenhead to you, then have one of the brutal lords of Orkeneyjar choose what man will take it.”
Darach said nothing, but rolled onto his side and pulled her into his arms.
She tucked her head against his chest. “Will you have me?”
“Aye, lass, I’ll have ye. But before I show ye the ways of pleasure, let me hold ye a bit longer. For after today, we have much work to do—people to convince of yer worthiness to stay in Scotia, and yer family to find.”
Wrapped in his protective arms, Elle cared little for what dangers were closing in around her. She had deep feelings for him. This man deserved her affection. And she’d give it, no matter the consequences, no matter what little time they had together—so help her God. She made her own secret pledge to open her heart to him. For whatever happened today, was between a Scot and his lady.
The End