To Love A Highlander (Highland Warriors Book 1) Read online

  “No, my lord, not since you wed. I have been busy preparing your bedchambers. She may have gone to the healing cottage to see if anyone was in need.”

  Craven dismissed her with a wave and turned to see Dylan walking toward him.

  “Our warriors follow Roark and his warriors to make sure they do not linger in the area,” Dylan said, coming to a stop in front of Craven.

  “Roark will send a message to Warrick and linger here until he hears from him. It is what Warrick would expect.”

  “Warrick will come here?”

  Craven nodded. “He will face me himself, though he will not come right away. He will wait and one day he will arrive and make his demand.”

  “He will want Espy?”

  “He will want something. We will see,” Craven said, not sounding as if he worried about it. “Have you seen Espy?”

  “Tass told me that Cyra had to leave to tend someone and that Espy walked her to her horse.”

  Leith burst into the Great Hall and spit out in one great breath, “Trumble’s gone.”

  Dylan turned a quick glance on Craven. “Why would Espy go with Cyra?”

  Leith shook his head, his hand pressed to his chest.

  “Espy did not go with Cyra?” Dylan asked.

  Leith faltered once or twice but got his words out. “I saw Cyra ride off alone.”

  “Get my mare, Leith,” Craven said to the lad, and Leith hurried off.

  “You will want the tracker and a troop of warriors since Roark and his warriors are still in the area.”

  Craven nodded. His heart beat so furiously that he thought it would burst from his chest. He did not know why she had taken off as she did and at the moment he did not care. He only wanted to make sure he found her safe and unharmed, then he would see that she got what she deserved for being so foolish.

  Espy made her way as quietly as possible, on foot, through the woods. She had dismounted Trumble once the trees became so dense that it made travel more difficult. The ground was just beginning to sprout with the beautiful violet blue, fairy flowers that carpeted this section of the woods in the spring. When young, she had lingered enjoying their beauty, though she would dare not touch one, her grandmother warning her that they belonged to the fairies and were to be left for their use and pleasure.

  Today, however, there was no time for lingering. She had to get to her secret place, the one she went to as a child and had continued to go to as an adult, especially when her heart hurt. She had come to the place after her mum and da had died and though her grandmother knew where it was, she never disturbed her, never intruded on her time there.

  She had shared it with only one other person… Adara.

  Espy swerved around, having thought she heard a footfall, but with Trumble having remained calm, it was not likely. He usually alerted her when someone was nearby. She continued walking, frightened that Warrick’s warriors would find Adara and return her to the dungeon. She could not let that happen. She had not freed Adara only to see her taken prisoner again.

  With a watchful eye and cautious steps, she made her way to the place that had consoled her and brought her peace. She smiled when she saw the small cottage that had been abandoned and neglected when she had found it. A tree had grown through the lone window and out through a hole in the thatched roof. The front door hung crooked, though closed well enough and the tiny fireplace inside provided sufficient warmth even though part of it had crumbled. And it sat protected, wrapped in the arms of a plethora of trees and a large boulder to the opposite side.

  Espy had always felt that the forest lovingly embraced the tiny dwelling and kept it safe from harm. She had told Adara all about the tiny cottage and she could understand why she had come here… Adara wanted to be safe from harm.

  “Adara,” Espy called out softly. “It is me, Espy and Trumble. We are alone. No one has come with us and no one will follow.”

  Once Espy had agreed to help Arran, he had taught her how to hide her tracks so no one could follow her. It had served her well as would it now, since no doubt her husband would follow her.

  Husband.

  She shook her head. She had no time to dwell on her husband or that she even had a husband. She would face the consequences upon her return. At the moment, all she cared about was seeing that Adara was safe.

  “Adara,” she called out again. “Roark and Warrick’s warriors are in the area.”

  “I know,” came the gentle voice.

  Espy watched as Adara stepped out from behind the boulder. A patched brown skirt and faded linen blouse hung loose on her painfully thin body, but how could she be anything but thin after having spent time in Warrick’s dungeon. She appeared shorter than Espy remembered her, half a head less than her own height. Her pale complexion added to her look of frailty, though nothing could mar her beauty. Her dark blue eyes added to her lovely features, but it was the color of her hair that caught the eye the most. It was a beautiful blond color tinged with red and while it probably looked stunning when long, it now lay just above her shoulders, having been chopped with a knife when she had been brought to Warrick’s dungeon.

  She held her right hand, with the two crooked fingers, pressed against her stomach. Espy had wished she could have helped heal her the fingers, but she had arrived at the dungeon too long after the injury and it had been too late to straighten the fingers, the broken bones had already set.

  “Warrick’s warriors are here for me, not you,” she assured Adara, “though you must remain hidden until they are gone.”

  Adara’s eyes turned wide in question.

  “Lord Craven would have it no other way,” Espy said and heard the pride in her own voice for her husband. There it was again… husband. She could only imagine how angry he would be when he found her gone, but again she pushed it aside, this matter more important.

  “You are safe?” Adara dared to ask as if not quite believing it.

  “I am.” Espy surprised herself with her quick response. She had not hesitated in the least. She was certain she was safe with Craven.

  “I came here…” Adara let her words trail off as if they were not worth speaking.

  “To be safe—”

  Adara shook her head and waved her hand.

  “Not to be safe?”

  “Never safe,” Adara said, fear rising in her eyes.

  Espy stepped closer. “I will make sure you are safe. You will stay here. No one will find you. I will bring you food and my grandmother will tend you. The bruising to your body could not have healed yet.”

  Adara shuddered from the memories.

  “We will talk, but not now. I must return to the keep and you must stay out of sight, at least until we are sure that Warrick’s warriors do not linger about.”

  Adara nodded.

  “I wish I could confide in my grandmother—”

  Adara shook her head and waved her hand, warning her against it. “Not safe.” She shooed her off with her hand. “Go.”

  Espy went to speak, but Adara shook her head and disappeared behind the boulder.

  Espy knew there would be no coaxing her out from her hiding spot. She had suffered too much to fully trust anyone. She knew only a little about Adara, but it was enough to know that anyone who had ever claimed to love her had betrayed her.

  She had once told Espy that she could live in Espy’s secret place forever, and Espy wondered if that was what she intended.

  Darkness would settle over the land before she reached the keep, but it could not be helped. She would face whatever consequences awaited her. She would never have seen Adara returned to Warrick’s dungeons. The woman would have never survived another stay there.

  She hurried to return to the keep. Craven was probably out searching for her and she hoped to return before he did. She thought about what excuse she could offer and the only viable one was that she felt the need to follow her grandmother, without her knowledge, to make sure she got home safely and unbothered. She did not know if Crave
n would accept the explanation, though she hoped he would, for she had nothing else to offer him.

  Espy entered the stable as quietly as possible, no one being about. All were settled in their cottages for the night and with the roll of thunder overhead and the spattering of rain against the stable, it was where everyone would most likely remain.

  She cringed when she saw Craven’s mare in her stall as she walked Trumble back to his. Night falling, no doubt, had forced Craven to end his search. Or had it been that he had found no tracks? Whatever the case, she would face an angry husband.

  Husband.

  She rested her cheek to Trumble’s face. “I have a husband, Trumble. One who does not want me, though I sometimes wonder if he knows what he wants, since grief consumes him. I cannot blame him. I saw my da wither away and die when he lost my mum. He simply could not live without her.” She patted the horse. “With love comes great joy and great sorrow. Perhaps I am lucky to know no such love.”

  Trumble shook his head and pawed the ground, then stared off to the left.

  Espy froze. She was not alone. Someone was here with her.

  Chapter 22

  “But you will know the consequences of disobeying your husband.”

  Espy stepped closer to Trumble as lightning flashed outside the lone window, illuminating Craven as he emerged from the shadows. Or had the shadows parted, wanting to be rid of him. The size of him always amazed her, thick, large, and so powerfully built, and he appeared even more so now, his shoulders seeming to stretch on forever. His fine features were stern, his brow wrinkled with anger, his dark eyes equally so. The intimidating sight of him should frighten her, but it was not what she felt, not when her eyes fell on his chest and a tiny quiver ran through her, recalling how comfortable his chest was to rest her head upon and the strength of his arms when they wrapped around her, holding her, comforting her, protecting her.

  My husband.

  Craven was her husband. Was it true or would she wake to find this day nothing more than a dream? She felt her heart wither at the thought.

  Craven reached out, his hand clamping down on her arm, and he snatched her away from the stallion, who was none too pleased by his presence, pawing the ground in agitation.

  “Calm him,” Craven ordered when he brought her to stand beside him.

  “Easy, Trumble. All is well,” Espy said in a voice that held not a hint of fear or worry, and the horse instantly calmed.

  Craven did not say a word as he kept a strong hold on her and walked to the front of the stable, yanking open the door only to be met by rain plummeting the ground. He shut the door against the slashing onslaught and stepped into an empty stall, dragging Espy along with him.

  Flashes of lightning were the only light in the stable, arriving unexpectedly and highlighting the anger in Craven’s dark eyes and the stiffness in his jaw.

  It was time for her to suffer the consequences of her actions.

  Craven leaned his head down until their faces nearly touched. “I will hear the truth spill from your lips or else...”

  Espy went to speak, to try and explain, when suddenly her heart spoke for her. “I believe I am falling in love with you, Craven. I do not know when I first felt it nor can I explain it. It took root on its own and seems to dig in more deeply by the day. The more time I spend with you, the more time I want to spend with you. It makes no sense and I should not even share this with you, and yet I cannot help myself—” She stopped abruptly as if words suddenly failed her. Or had fear of his response stolen her tongue?

  Lightning flashed again and she caught the warning in his dark eyes as he said, “Do not love the beast, he will only bring you pain.”

  Espy rested her hand to his chest. “Too late. The beast already has my heart.”

  Craven shook his head as he brought his brow to lie against hers. “I give you this one chance and my word. Run from the beast before it is too late, and he will never touch you.”

  He dropped his hand off her, raised his head, and glared at her, trying to frighten her or perhaps fighting to contain the beast within him. She did not know and did not care.

  “I cannot run from you, Craven. My heart would break if I did, and I would die a little each day until I withered away if I never felt your touch again. I told myself I was foolish. You could never care for me let alone love me, but my heart would not listen. It did as it pleased and I am tired of trying to ignore it and trying to deny it. I most certainly am not going to run from you. I have run enough.”

  Craven felt the anger, the hate, the pure rage of the animal within him, who had sought revenge without thought or reason, draw back into the darkness where it lurked and waited. “You invade my dreams and my waking thoughts. My body aches for you, even more so when I touch you. I grow hard with just the thought of you, but… love. I do not know if I can promise you that.”

  She reached out tentatively, hoping he would not back away from her and when her hand touched his cheek he flinched, though he let it remain there. “I have enough love for the both of us.”

  Craven wanted her, his body on fire for her… but love her?

  He took an abrupt step at her, meaning to frighten her off and she stumbled backward, and he had all he could do not to reach out and steady her, but he did not, and she did not run.

  Her chin jutted out defiantly. “I am not afraid of the beast.”

  “Then you are a fool,” he spat.

  “I have been called worse and survived. You cannot, you will not, frighten me, and you will not stop me from loving you.”

  The growl started low in his chest and rose up, but before it could break loose, Espy stepped forward and pressed her lips to his.

  Craven grabbed a handful of her hair at the back of her head and yanked her head back, forcing her lips off his. “Once I claim you, once I make you mine, you are mine forever.” Lord help him, he wanted it that way. He wanted to make her his forever.

  A soft smile spread across Espy’s face. “I already am yours forever.”

  He brought his mouth down on hers with a growl rumbling deep inside him. Nothing ever tasted as sweet and delicious to him, and he did not think he would ever get enough of her.

  His arm circled her waist and he lifted her off the ground as he continued to kiss her, to be nourished by her. Her kisses were as eager and hungry as his and he hated to break away from her mouth even for a short time, but he did, ordering her to, “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did, her legs hugging his waist tight and his lips found hers once again, their kiss even more demanding than before. He walked her to the back of the stall, bracing her back against the wall.

  He tore his mouth off her, shaking his head. “I burn for you, have a need for you like no other.” He pulled down her blouse and scooped one breast out, dropping his mouth to suckle at her nipple. It had been so long, so terribly long, and she tasted so good, much too good.

  His manhood had hardened quickly and was growing ever demanding. He wanted nothing more than to slip inside her and feel her close around him, then spill his seed endlessly in her.

  Virgin.

  The voice shouted loud and clear in his head, reminding him that she had never known a man. This was her first time, if he was to believe her, and he did.

  He grabbed her hand and shoved it under his plaid. “Touch me,” he said.

  Espy did not have to be coaxed. She wanted to touch him, feel the length of him and know he now belonged to her. She gasped when she felt his thickness and the silky hardness of him, and instinct guided her hand as she lovingly stroked it.

  “Tighter. Harder,” he demanded.

  She would have preferred to take her time and enjoy the feel of him, but she did as he demanded and tightened her hold around his shaft and stroked him hard, forming a rhythm of sorts and as he expanded in her hand, her rhythm increased.

  “Harder,” he ordered and she obeyed.

  The moistness between her legs grew until she felt a heavy wetness ther
e and a throbbing that she knew only he could satisfy. She tried to draw him nearer to her, rub his wet tip against her wetness that beckoned him, but he kept her at a distance and she grew frustrated.

  She slowed her pace and he groaned in her ear. “Do not stop.”

  She did as he said, her own ache growing and tormenting her.

  His head suddenly fell back and he let out a long lingering moan and she felt his seed spew out and spill over her hand. She eased her strokes.

  “No,” he shouted as his brow fell on hers.

  She kept stroking him until instinct told her, he needed no more.

  Craven kept his arm tight around Espy’s waist, his hand clenching her side just above her hip. His other hand he kept braced on the wall just above her head, helping him to keep steady.

  He had come hard, harder than he could ever remember and he would not have been surprised if he had come inside her that he would have planted more than one bairn. But he would not have her first coupling be against the wall of a stable or have it be quick because it had been so long since he had spilled his seed.

  He took a deep breath and stepped back slowly so that instinct would have her releasing her legs from around him. When he was sure she was steady on her feet, he stepped away from her to snatch a cloth from the pile kept outside the stall and handed it to her.

  Espy took it and wiped her hand. She remained silent, not knowing what to say to him.

  Craven opened the stable door and while the rain was heavy, it was not the slashing downpour as before. He grabbed one of the cloaks kept by the door and went to Espy and wrapped it around her.

  He scooped her up in his arms and held her close against his body. “Now I will seal our vows and nothing or no one can ever separate us,” he said as he walked out of the stable and to the keep.

  Chapter 23

  Craven’s lips found hers as soon as he placed her on her feet in his bedchambers. He had not gotten enough of her, he wanted more, especially her sweet lips that responded in equal enthusiasm. She did not shy away in fright or uncertainty. Her demanding kisses let him know just how much she wanted him, favored him and it fired his loins once again.