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“Oh, yes,” he cried out. This seemed to tickle her, and she giggled a little before moaning again. “Ahhh. Hmmm.”
The ridiculous situation continued for some time, both getting louder and louder, partly to convince anyone who could hear that they were indeed in bed together, partly because their earlier nerves had worn away.
Duncan watched Elaine as their moans reached a crescendo. She'd gotten over her shyness and sat with her head tilted back, her eyes closed, moaning loudly as if her actions were completely normal. Strangely, despite the fact that their groans were intended for the benefit of everyone else in the castle, Duncan was aroused. The growing bulge in his groin caught him off guard as the long length of her neck stretched out before him, her soft, pale skin exposed for the taking. It hadn't occurred to him that their actions could have such an effect, but sexual tension, among other things, arose fromwithin him.
When he felt enough time had passed, Duncan reached out and took Elaine’s hand, his action causing her to gasp for real, her eyes flying open as she stared at him in surprise.
“I think that’ll dae, for now,” he said. “I have tae tell ye, Elaine. Ye were more than convincing.”
“Och, aye, well,” she stammered a little. “Given my work,” she shrugged, allowing him to come to his own conclusions.
“Aye, I suppose I ought nae tae be surprised.”
Duncan stood and moved over to the heavy dresser where the two goblets he had filled earlier had been left. “I dinnae ken about ye, but after all that hard work, I’m thirsty,” he chuckled, refilling the goblets before returning them to the bedside.
“Now, will ye promise me ye’ll nae down that like ye did the first one?”
Elaine shook her head and took the goblet from him. “I promise.”
“Good, or I’ll be forced tae send for a healer,” he winked.
For a long moment, they sat, drinking, with no words spoken. Duncan had no notion what Elaine was thinking. But the idea of making hermoan for real swirled inside his head. He wondered if it was just the circumstances. If he had felt the same way about Allison, or if it was Elaine who had affected him. He couldn't be sure because the idea of pacifying the nosy maids and servants by pretending to be doing something with the women in his bedchamber had only occurred to him that day. He'd never tried it with Allison or the other ladies who came to see him. Perhaps he was simply overthinking it, for what did it really matter?
The women who came to his bedchamber were there solely to keep the council off his back. He'd never intended to sleep with them because he couldn't bear the thought of it whilehis love for his late wife still fresh in his mind. He just needed to keep the old men at bay for now. They were only concerned with the clan's well-being, as they should be, since thatwas the council's job. But Duncan needed time to think and figure out who had snatchedhis family with no rhyme or reason.
“Are ye hungry?” Duncan suddenly asked.
“Nae, my Laird.”
‘Duncan,” he pressed.
“Sorry,” she said, her nervousness returned once more. She flicked a secretive glance toward him and then another as though trying to get a better look at something. Duncan was so used to it, he nearly forgot it was there. But he realized, after the third glance, what it was that evoked her interest.
* * *
“I got it in battle,” he said, turning to face her fully before moving the left side of his face toward her so she could see his ragged scar more clearly.
Elaine took a deep breath in. “I apologize, my Laird. I didnae mean…”
“Everyone asks sooner or later,” Duncan shrugged. “It’s nae secret. We had joined several other clans in fighting against a small hoard from the north. They were trying tae expand their land mass and kent they could only dae it if they banded together. We had nae choice but tae defend. Anyway,” Duncan pushed himself off the bed and walked toward the fireplace, before turning to look at her. “There was a wee lad with us. Colum. Fourteen of age. Orphaned while very young, he was determined tae fight, even though I was dead set against it. It was chaos with all the yelling and screaming, some o’ it battle cries, some o’ it men lying writhing on the ground as the blood poured from wounds so deep ye could see their entire insides. In any case,” Duncan continued, taking the goblet from her hand, he walked toward the dresser, “so immersed in battling with one particular opponent was I, that I’d not noticed another flanking me. Covered in mud and losing my footing on the ground beneath my feet, I heard a warning call.”
“It was the young lad,” Elaine concluded.
“It was indeed,” Duncan nodded, pouring more wine. “Seeing the man coming up on my flank, he ran as fast as he could. The broadsword nearly the size o’ the boy himself, trying in his desperation tae warn me. By doing so, he made himsel the target. By the time I spun around tae see what was happening, the boy was struggling. His opponent was near twice his size and just as broad, and wee Colum had nae a chance o’ defeating him. I nearly didnae make it, mind, for the boy was on the floor with a sword at his chest by the time I reached him. But, screaming as I went, trying tae get the man’s attention, the opponent saw me as a better target. Unfortunately, I misjudged the distance between us. He struck me, and where his sword caught my face, my sword pierced the flesh o’ his belly.”
“And Colum?” Elaine asked, worrying about the young lad’s fate.
“Och, wee Colum is nae so wee anymore,” Duncan grinned, handing her the refilled goblet. “He’s one o’ my most trusted soldiers. Never stops reminding me that he owes me his life.”
“Well, he is nae wrong, is he?”
“Battle is battle, Elaine,” Duncan said after lowering himself back down beside her. “The strength o’ a man’s clan lies in their loyalty. It only takes one fraying strand tae weaken the entire rope. I was there for him then, as he has been for me since and continues tae be, even now. I would say he has repaid his debt and more.”
Elaine was captivated by the story and struggled not to admire Duncan's devotion to his men. He had paid a high price to save a boy's life. Despite the scar, he had a boyish beauty to him. Clearly, he held his men in high regard and would do anything for them, even give his own life. Even as she felt sympathy and admiration for him after hearing his story, Elaine was suddenly reminded of the wickedness that also possessed this man's soul—for he had killed not only her brother but also her father.
She could not say she cared as much for the latter as she did the former. William McNally was the real reason Angus was dead. Had he not wallowed in his own self-pity, had her father been a stronger man and taken care of his family as a parent ought to, Angus would never have been pushed into such a position that resulted in him being caught and killed in the first place. Looking now at the laird, he had much to answer for, yet her father was not blameless by any means. It was sad that he was no longer with them. But then, he had not been with them, in body at least, for quite some time.
“Come,” Duncan said, taking her goblet from her and interrupting her thoughts. “We must act out our performance one more time.”
