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Prologue
Isle of Skye - 1317
The track between the castle’s feet and the cliff edge was narrow and crumbling in places, so Will pressed his back hard against the walls to keep his footing. Some loose stones fell away, clattering downwards, the sound swallowed by the crash of waves pounding the coastline.
The spring day was just slipping into darkness and, if he lost his grip or placed one foot wrong in the dying light, it was a long way down and could only end with a jagged death on the rocks hundreds of feet below. Sheet lightning flashed out to sea - a storm coming, a long way off, but he needed to get up the tower wall before the rain started lashing it.
Will craned his neck upwards. From the tower window, a light flickered - a candle, guttering in the wind rolling in off the sea. He could not tell if the shutters were locked or not. If they were this would all be for nothing, and he would never reach his prey.
He started to climb nimbly up the tower wall, feeling his way across cold stone, slippery with salt spray and moss. The wind and sea had eaten away at the walls so that they were pitted, providing handholds, but also flaking away under his grip here and there. Luckily he had strong shoulders which took the weight of his body as he hauled himself upwards, muscles shaking with the exertion.
Voices drifted down from the ramparts above him. Guards. If they looked over the edge, if they swept their torches down to scan the castle’s flanks, he was done for. He flattened himself against the tower, like a crouching spider, arms and legs splayed. The voices drifted away as the guards walked further along the ramparts.
Almost there.
He reached the shutters and pushed on them, and they creaked inwards. Will smiled and stared back down at the drop below. Hopefully, he would make his way down safely when this night’s work was done.
With cat-like grace, he heaved himself in through the window. All was still inside the chamber, just the sound of soft breathing from the semi-darkness. He turned and secured the shutters so that they did not bang in the wind. It wouldn’t do to have any noise to disturb the guards outside the door, once he got started. As he walked over to the bed, he took off his sword belt and laid it gently on the floor.
The woman was sleeping on her back, hair fanned out on the pillow, pale in the firelight, hand above her head, revealing the soft down in her armpit. Her mouth was open slightly, and the thought of filling it with his tongue made his loins pulse. So vulnerable, so gentle and soft in sleep, was she, that part of him was loath to wake her and violate that perfect calm.
Thunder rumbled closer, and the sky lit up again. Will peeled off his tunic, the cold raising goosebumps over his back, at odds with the heat in his belly. He tore off his boots, placing them silently on the floor, wincing at the cold of the flagstones. Finally, he peeled off his braies and walked over to the side of the bed. Lifting the blankets slowly, so as not to wake her, Will slid in beside the woman.
Will eased his body up against hers, enjoying the heat of her skin through her kirtle. As his hand slipped under the edge of it, she moaned and stirred a little. Holding his breath Will let his fingers roam upwards between her splayed legs, finding her warm, moist centre. Stroking and spreading, feeling her soft down of hair on his fingers, Will’s cock hardened and impatience overtook him. He was so going to enjoy mastering this beauty.
Will pressed harder with his thumb, feeling it turn slippery as he aroused her. The woman jerked awake, her squeal of panic cut short by his hand clamping down hard on her mouth. He was on top of her in an instant, pressing her into the bed with the weight of his body, parting her legs with his own, laying her open for him. Wide eyes looked up into his in shock as he quickly thrust deep inside her to his hilt, trying hard not to groan out loud with the pleasure of it. He grabbed her bottom with his free hand and pinned her against him. There was no escaping his embrace now.
As he sank inside her with powerful thrusts, his hand loosened its grip, and her teeth found his finger. She bit down on it, making him wince and swallow a curse. As he plunged harder into her, she took it into her mouth and sucked on it, turning his cock to iron and making his breath catch.
Edana Bain tore his hand free of her face and pressed hot lips to his neck. ‘I thought you’d never come,’ she panted, nails digging into his back, long legs wrapping around his buttocks and holding him prisoner.
‘I had tasks to attend to, but now I will attend to you,’ he growled.
‘Oh, oh, do it please,’ she panted as he took her, too hard and fast for tenderness. ‘I want you, Will. I want you so much. I love you.’
Will paused. ‘Quiet or the guards will hear you,’ he hissed, crushing her mouth with his, filling it with his tongue and grinding his hips against hers until her cries of ecstasy spilt into his mouth. Sharp fingernails bit into his back, his buttocks, raking his hair, making him stiffen and swell and spurt out his lust.
Immediately it was over Will rolled onto his back with his chest heaving. She would want to talk now, to draw sweet words of love from him, words which stuck in his craw. Edana was a pleasing mistress, but a demanding one and Will’s mind was already turning to getting back down the wall and away.
‘You take too many risks, my love,’ she panted into the darkness.
As if she cared. It flattered her that he did so.
‘A night in your arms is more than worth it,’ he murmured, his eyelids growing heavy. Sleep could be fatal, he needed to be gone. By dawn, he would be at sea, at the prow of a ship heading out to hunt for weak merchant vessels pushing their way up the coast.
‘One day you will come to me through honourable means, for all to see, Will,’ she said softly.
‘Aye, if I want to part my head from my shoulders, I will do that.’
‘Why not? We could be together and happy.’
Will groaned inwardly. Could they not just enjoy each other, steal some pleasure out of life and that be the end of it? Why did women always need to pull sticky coils of love and tenderness out of the act of coupling, to trap a man and bind him to them?
When he did not answer her, Edana’s voice became a little pleading. ‘We could run away together and be done with this place.’ She gave a little laugh, framing it as a jest, but Will knew she was in deadly earnest.
‘Your husband may have something to say about that, my love,’ he replied, hoping to end the matter.
‘What if I didn’t have a husband?’
