“The man’s not wrong, Reade. The marriage to Sawny was both a romantic and political match. Though ‘tis only been a month, things are escalating in the Highlands. The king is pressing the issue of the Oath of Allegiance. The clan chiefs have discussed signing the Oath if they can agree on how to split the reward. We are at a precipice, and Adaira has become political fodder.”
Reade pinched the skin between his eyes. Earlier that week, he had laid in bed with Blair and told her what had transpired regarding those same events.
Seamus had met with his father, Alistair MacDonald, other MacDonald lairds, and the chiefs of Cameron and MacGregor clans, regarding a declaration to accept the Oath of Allegiance to the pretender king. The reward was a way to secure their loyalty, but those agreements were in early discussion. Glengarry had hoped to bring the declaration to a conclusion by summer, but as of yet, the clans could not agree on anything.
And the clans had not received word from King James regarding the matter, which only complicated the arguments about oath-taking. Several chieftains did not want to sign, arguing that they should challenge the foreign king. Seamus and his father had pointed out that the best way to do that was with this letter they still could not locate.
Glengarry had sagely noted that any uprising must wait upon word from King James. If the king across the water in France could raise his army, then they would fight in whatever way necessary for James to reclaim his throne. But they had to wait until a message arrived from the king.
The waiting was trying all their patience.
Joining his sister to one of those clans would alleviate so much of that present consternation.
“I saw her eyes when she took the ring,” Blair had said as she joined Reade in bed. She had told him about the goldsmith’s visit. “She does no’ believe he left her. She believes he’s dead. Her heart is scarred, and I have the sense she is no’ eager to find love again, if she thinks she can at all. The man your father picks to marry her, no matter when that happens, may well find himself in a loveless marriage.”
Reade snorted. “I had thought to have that with ye. A loveless marriage, aye?”
Blair had rolled atop him, her russet red hair curtaining around their faces. “Aye, but I came to ye a stranger. ‘Twas our problem. Your sister is heartbroken, and while time heals all wounds, often the heart does no’ heal the same, and the fire that burned there for Sawny may never be fully extinguished. Whoever your father picks to fill that role will have to be aware of that.”
Reade had nodded and kissed her nose, setting his worries about his kin and clan aside to kiss his wife’s rosebud mouth. She eagerly returned his kisses, igniting a raw need in his groin. His lips slid down her jaw to her pink-tipped breasts, and his hands shifted on her hips, drawing her up to his engorged cock that throbbed for her.
Blair sat up tall, her hair falling around her shoulders. She moved upward until his manhood was at her ready opening. Reade groaned as his need for her drove a heat through his entire body.
“Ride me, my love,” he had demanded, and she slid down his length, sighing at the sensation of joining and drawing a long, throaty moan from Reade’s chest.
He wanted to grab her hips and slam her up and down on his shaft until he exploded inside her, but that night, Blair was the one riding him, and she was in charge.
“I’ll ride ye until ye canna control yourself,” she whispered. Blair ground her woman’s mound against the hilt of his root, driving him as deep as he could go. Her fingers gripped his chest, digging into his skin and marking him.
“Too late,” he had said as his hips clenched to drive himself up as she came back down. “I canna control myself around ye at all.”
They had moved together in unison, rising and thrusting until Blair shuddered and gasped. Watching her find her release was enough to send Reade to the edge, and clutching her fleshy hips, he slammed her against his cock as his hips rose to meet her body. His movements were wild, her sheath gripping his manhood tight as he slid in and out.
The heat and dragging against his length had been too much. A quivering erupted in his ballocks and coursed through his body. He clenched hard, holding her on his cock as he poured his essence into her.
Once his hands released her hips, she leaned forward and dropped her head to his chest. They both panted wildly, and he wiped a light sheen of sweat from his forehead.
Normally he tried to draw out their joinings, but Blair knew what he needed that night, her body and her sex helping him forget his worries.
And it had worked. They had fallen asleep with their bodies entwined, and he had not thought about Highland politics or his sister again until the next morning.
Now, days later in the full light of the sun, Highland politics appeared on his doorstep, and Adaira was going to be the one to suffer.
Again.
No’ on my watch,he thought tersely as he left Maddock to stare at the rebuffed Stewart man who scrambled away.
There had to be another solution. They just could not see it, yet.
The next day, Reade and Maddock rode to the village tavern to meet with Sawny’s cousin Roy and share any news of what they might have found regarding the missing Keppoch man. The trio had taken to swapping information regularly in search of new leads, but to date, Reade and Maddock had nothing.
No new information. No updates. No sightings.
Together, the brothers hoped Roy or Brodie had heard rumor or gossip lately, anything that might lead to Sawny.
They grumbled together as they entered the Stag and Stone tavern in Ballachulish, their disappointment weighing heavy on their shoulders, a cloak of despair that neither wanted to wear.
Roy was already in the tavern, nursing a mug of flat ale, his long hair hanging limply in his face. He looked about as pleased as Reade felt, which did not bode well.
