Surrender to the Highlander by Lynsay Sands
"Thank ye," Edith breathed, swallowing when he brushed her hair away from her neck. When he then bent to nuzzle her there, she bit her lip to stifle a soft gasp, and found herself leaning back into him. Niels let his arms drift around her then, to cross under her breasts, and Edith clasped them lightly, her head tilting as he nibbled at her ear. When he lifted one hand to catch her chin and turn her face up and back to his, Edith went willingly, even eagerly, and closed her eyes as his lips covered hers. His tongue slid out to nudge its way between her lips, and she opened with surprise and then stilled as his tongue swept in. Edith met the invasion with a moan as a cacophony of sensation burst to life inside her. She was vaguely aware of his hand drifting down her throat and then her chest, but didn't really pay attention until it stopped to cover one breast and squeezed lightly.
Edith gasped into his mouth as her body responded, her back arching instinctively to push her breast more fully into the caress as his other hand suddenly rose to claim the other one. She had no idea she was pushing back into him with her bottom until she felt the hardness that met her, and then one of his hands slid inside the neckline of her gown to touch her without the cloth between them and Edith cried out into his mouth as he began to pluck at the already hard nipple.
Edith was so distracted by that she definitely didn't notice his other hand leaving her breast to drift downward until he cupped her between the legs through the cloth and almost lifted her off her feet. This was nothing like it had been when she'd been poking at herself earlier out of curiosity. Even with the cloth between them, this aroused an unbearable excitement in her that she'd never dreamed possible. And it made her want more. The problem was, she wasn't quite sure what more she wanted. But her body seemed to have ideas of its own and was shifting against his hands, writhing into first one caress and then the other in search of something she didn't quite understand, and then a high-pitched scream made them both freeze.
In the next moment, Niels was breaking their kiss to mutter, "Ronson," and then his lovely hands were leaving her and he was gone. For one moment, Edith simply stood there, her brain slow to put everything together, and then she turned and peered around the empty clearing. Even Niels was gone.
Confused, Edith took one staggering step away from Niels's horse, and then steadied herself before continuing in the general direction she'd thought Ronson's scream had come from. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she pushed her way into the underbrush in search of both males. The scream they'd heard had been panicked, even terrified, she thought as her brain began to function again and one urgency was traded for another as she began to worry about the boy.
"Are ye all right, lad? What--? Dear God."
Edith heard Niels's words just as she pushed through more bushes and nearly trampled both Niels and Ronson before catching herself. Ronson stood frozen with Laddie at his side, while Niels knelt examining something on the ground in front of the boy.
"It's Lonnie," Ronson said, sounding scared, and Edith glanced over his shoulder to see a man lying facedown in the dirt, an arrow protruding from his back.
"Who's Lonnie?" Niels asked, glancing back at Ronson and pausing briefly when he spotted Edith.
"One o' the soldiers at Drummond," Edith answered for the boy. "He usually stands guard on the wall."
"Aye, he does. But he left with the laird when he and Lady Victoria left the castle," Ronson told them.
"Did he?" Edith asked with a frown, peering down at the man. Lonnie's face was turned their way, his mouth open, his eyes too, and she had to look away. The man had obviously been dead awhile. He was unrecognizable to her.
"Aye. He does no' look like Lonnie, but I saw Magda give him that kerchief when he left. She said 'twas to remember her by," Ronson said.
Edith glanced back to see the bit of cloth the boy spoke of tied around Lonnie's arm.
"Come." Niels stood abruptly and began to usher them back through the woods to the clearing. "I'll return ye both to the castle and then bring back men and a wagon to get Lonnie."
"We can no' just leave him here. Maybe we should take him with us," Edith said with concern.
"Lass, we've only the one horse. Besides, he's been out here for a good week at least. A few more minutes will no' make much difference," Niels said grimly.
"Aye," Edith murmured as they reached the clearing and crossed to the horse. This time, Niels mounted, lifted her into his lap and then lifted Ronson into hers. She was sure it made it harder for him to handle the reins, but Niels didn't complain, and she was glad she could hold the boy. He was shivering slightly after his discovery. She closed her arms around him and leaned silently against Niels's chest for the return journey to the keep.
"Well?"
Edith glanced up from the food she was mostly pushing around her trencher at that question from Niels, and saw Rory joining them at the table.
"Well," Rory said, "it looks like he died from the arrow wound."
"And the other injuries?"
Edith's eyebrows rose slightly. She hadn't noticed any other injuries, but then she'd only got two quick looks at the man and had focused mainly on his face the first time and the kerchief the second.
"Animals," Rory said quietly. "After he died."
Edith grimaced and set down the silver goblet of mead she'd been about to drink from.
"Can ye tell how long he's been dead?" Niels asked after a pause.
Rory shook his head. "A week at least, but it could be more. I can no' tell."
"Poor bastard," Tormod said grimly. "His horse, weapons and boots were gone, so I'm guessing it was bandits. Must ha'e caught him on his way back to the keep. We've had trouble with them in the area before."
"Aye," Edith agreed, and then frowned. "But Ronson said Lonnie left with Brodie and Victoria. Why was he returning alone?"
Tormod's mouth tightened with anger. "Yer brother probably sent him back to see if it was safe to return. Or mayhap, after setting out it occurred to him that he should have someone who could ride out and let him ken it was safe to return so sent the lad back to be his eyes and ears here."
It seemed the most likely answer so Edith merely nodded unhappily and absently turned the silver goblet of mead in a circle, her gaze on the liquid inside as she wondered what they should do now. They had no way to let Brodie know what had happened to Lonnie. They didn't even know where he had taken Victoria. It could be court, or the castle of one of his friends. While Brodie was spoiled and selfish, he could also be extremely charming when he chose and had made many friends among the younger lairds. Before marrying Victoria he'd often spent his time visiting one after the other, hunting here, hawking there and just drinking, gambling or wenching at another. They could be anywhere.
Sighing, she sat up straight and glanced to the three men at the table with her. "We have to devise a plan to sort out who the poisoner was so that Brodie can return and I can leave."
"Leave?" Tormod asked with a frown.
Edith eyed him solemnly. "He'll send me away to the Abbey the minute he gets back, Tormod. I know that and so do you."
"Aye," Tormod growled unhappily. Bowing his head he added in a mutter, "I just did no' think ye'd give in and go to the Abbey so easily."
"I do no' plan to," she assured him and managed a smile when his head came back up and he eyed her questioningly. "I can no' make him let me stay here," she said gently and saw the disappointment in his face. "But I may be able to avoid spending the rest o' me days in the Abbey. I may even manage to marry some kindly old laird who would be willing to take in anyone Victoria convinces Brodie to be rid of."
"That'd be something at least," Tormod said with a frown.
"Aye. But I'd have to leave before Brodie returns to avoid the Abbey. I'll stay as long as I can, but when we ken he's returning, I'll have to go to MacDonnell."
"MacDonnell?" Rory asked with interest.
"I asked Saidh if I might visit. That was in the letter yer brothers took with them. My hope is that Saidh an
"I see," Rory murmured and glanced to Niels, but then asked, "So ye're determined to marry a laird?"
Edith smiled faintly. "Nay. I'd be happy with a cottage and half a dozen bairns. But time is me enemy. If I marry, me full dower goes with me. If Brodie sends me to the Abbey, he could probably get away with giving them half my dower or less. Finding an old laird, or even a young one in need o' coin seems more likely than anyone falling in love with me in the time I have," Edith said quietly, avoiding looking at Niels. She could still taste his kiss, and feel his hands on her body, but she wasn't foolish enough to think that meant he would suddenly offer her marriage and save her from her fate.
She wished it did. Edith would like to experience more of those kisses and caresses, and she doubted very much if she'd be lucky enough that she was attracted to whatever desperate laird she could get to marry her. But Edith had always been pragmatic about such things.
"So . . ." Tormod glanced at each of them in turn. "How do we sort out who the poisoner is?"
Silence reigned for a moment and then Rory said, "I'm no' sure. We are no' even sure how the old laird and his two older sons were fed the poison."
Niels turned to him with surprise. "I thought we'd decided the first dose must ha'e been in the wine because Edith did no' drink it."
"Aye, but surely Brodie and Victoria would ha'e had the wine that night," he pointed out, and then turned to Tormod and Edith and asked, "Did they not?"
"I'm no' sure," Tormod said with a frown. "That was weeks ago now and so much has happened." He now looked to Edith. "Do ye recall?"
Biting her lip, she sat back in her seat, trying to remember the night in question. As he'd said, it had been three and a half weeks ago now. And she'd been sick for much of that time. Finally, she said, "I think that might ha'e been the night they fought over Victoria's dower."
"Her dower?" Niels asked curiously.
Sighing, Edith nodded. "Apparently, Brodie assumed that once he'd married her, Victoria's father would hand over her dower."
"But he did no'?" Rory asked.
Edith shook her head. "Nay. He sent her maids and some dresses to Drummond, but the dower had to be given up to the man she'd been contracted to marry. It was in the contract. If she refused to marry him for any reason, he got the dower anyway." She grimaced. "The maids arrived that morning with the message and Brodie and Victoria were arguing about it all day."
"Aye. That's right," Tormod said dryly. "He ripped up the message and threw it at her, accusing her o' tricking him into marrying her with promises o' her huge dower, and she--" He paused and grinned. "I thought she'd brain him with a pitcher o' ale she was so furious at that accusation. 'I tricked you?' says she with disbelief. 'I was the one who was tricked, my laird.'" He shook his head. "She was fair furious. They both were. So much so they did no' care who heard them. They started here in the great hall, and then he followed her to the kitchen when she tried to escape him there, and then up to their room." He shook his head. "The maids were so busy listening ye could no' get a lick o' work out o' them that day."
"Nay," Edith agreed wryly. "Anyway, they ended up in their room, hollering half the night until I sent a maid to tell them to shut up, that Father was deathly ill." She sighed. "I did no' ken that our brothers were too yet. They had retired early, probably because they were feeling unwell, but I did no' ken they were sick too until the morning when I went to tell them each that Father had passed."
"So Victoria and Brodie did no' drink the wine at table that night," Rory said thoughtfully.
"And they were in the kitchens at some point," Niels pointed out.
"But they were no' here when I fell ill the second time and that was from the stew no' the wine," Edith reminded them firmly.
"But they left that day," Niels pointed out. "They must ha'e somehow poisoned the stew ere leaving. Brodie is the only one who benefited from the deaths of yer father and brothers."
"They left that morning," Edith said patiently. "Moibeal felt ill in the night, but no one kenned until I woke up and found her on her mat in my room, clutching her stomach and delirious. Brodie feared an outbreak, panicked and packed up Victoria and left right away. They could no' have poisoned my serving o' stew later that day at sup. They were long gone. And the stew itself was no' poisoned else everyone in the castle would be dead," she said with exasperation.
"Mayhap Victoria had Effie put some o' the tonic in yer stew that night ere it was brought up to ye, and the poison was in the tonic," Rory suggested.
"Effie would hardly then take the poison herself," Edith pointed out.
"Nay, but mayhap Effie did no' ken 'twas poison," Rory said reasonably. "Yer brother may no' even ken what his wife was up to. It may ha'e been Victoria alone. Perhaps she was determined to be the Lady o' Drummond as yer brother had promised and was willing to murder to achieve it."
Edith nodded slowly. That actually seemed possible. She certainly liked it better than the suggestion that Brodie might be behind the deaths. Which meant they had a problem. "Then there is nothing we can do," she pointed out. "There is no way to prove Victoria poisoned the wine or the stew . . . unless ye can say unequivocally that the tonic had poison in it," she said and raised an eyebrow in question.
Rory shook his head regretfully. "Nay. There are so many herbs in the tonic, it would be impossible to sort out what poison had been used, or if it was in it."
"Then unless Effie wakes up to say she put it in me stew, and drank or ate it herself that last day, Victoria will get away with murder," she pointed out wearily.
"How is Effie doing?" Tormod asked abruptly.
"No change," Rory said, and then frowned and added, "No change at all in fact, and I would expect there to be. But she seems exactly as she was when we first got here. No stronger but no weaker."
"Aye, well, ye're dribbling broth down her throat all the time," Niels pointed out. "No doubt that's helping prevent her weakening further."
"Hmm," Rory muttered and then merely shook his head and stood. "Speaking o' which, I suppose 'tis time I went up to do that again."
"Now?" Tormod asked with surprise. "But what about our coming up with a plan to catch the poisoner?"
"Have ye got a plan?" Rory asked with interest, and when Tormod grimaced, he said, "I'm afraid Edith is right. There's really no way to prove Victoria did it. At least nothing any of us has come up with yet. I suggest we all think about it tonight and then meet again tomorrow morn and see if anyone has ideas."
"Agreed," Edith said.
When Tormod grunted unhappy agreement, Rory nodded and turned to leave the table.
Edith glanced to Niels then, but found him looking toward the fire. Following his gaze she saw Ronson curled up with Laddie next to his grandmother's feet, sleeping. The trio was surrounded by several women all busily making mats with the last of the rushes that had been collected that day. They were almost done. There weren't many rushes left now.
Her gaze slid over the fair-haired boy curled up against the large dog and she sighed to herself. Ronson had rushed to his grandmother the moment they'd returned, seeking comfort from his only remaining family member after the trauma of seeing Lonnie dead. Edith hadn't been surprised. He'd been awfully quiet on the return journey to the keep, merely clutching her tight and shivering. Edith supposed it was the first dead body he'd seen. It surely wouldn't be his last, although hopefully not under the same circumstances. Tripping over a dead man in the woods had to have been disconcerting for the boy. Besides, he'd known Lonnie a little. The young man was one of the few soldiers who had troubled himself to be nice to the new lad after he and his grandmother had arrived.
"Ye should lay down and rest awhile ere the sup."
Edith met Niels's gaze briefly and then glanced shyly away and back to the women by the fire. Ther
"Aye, I think I will rest before dinner," she decided, standing up. Ronson hadn't been the only one shaken up by the discovery that day and she'd actually like a chance to push it from her thoughts.
"I'll see ye up and keep an eye out fer trouble," Niels murmured, taking her arm.
Edith stilled briefly, but continued forward, her heart thudding now in response to the innocent touch. It made her think of his touching her elsewhere, and his kisses as he'd done so, and she wondered if he'd kiss her again once they were in her room. Would he kiss her? Caress her? Would he do other things?
He shouldn't, her sensible side said staunchly, and Edith knew that side was right, but she wanted him to--she just wasn't sure what it was she wanted him to do. She'd like more kissing and caressing certainly. Her breasts were already tingling at the thought of his hands on them, his fingers plucking at her tender nipples. And heat was again building between her legs at the thought of him pressing there as he had in the clearing.
Edith could hardly believe they'd behaved that way with Ronson there. Although, he'd fortunately been off running through the woods with Laddie and missed their indiscretion. Still, if he'd returned and caught them--
"Here ye go."
Edith pulled herself from her thoughts and glanced around with surprise to see that while she'd been distracted, they'd ascended the stairs and arrived at her room.
"Thank ye," Edith murmured and led the way inside.
When he closed the door softly, she turned to offer him a nervous smile that turned into an O of surprise. She was alone. It seemed there would be no more kisses after all.
Chapter 6
Niels rolled on his side, grimaced as his forehead banged into the wall and then abruptly opened his eyes and sat upright. He'd fallen asleep on the job. He was supposed to be guarding Edith, but had dozed off at some point during the night and had apparently ended up lying down and sprawling on the floor without waking.