"My lord, this is outrageous! Those poor fools ye frightened were the king's men. Surely ye knew that?" Fiona said.
Releasing her wrist, Colin MacDonald surprised Fiona by leaning from his horse, wrapping an arm about her waist, and lifting her from her saddle onto his, seating her before him. "It will soon be dark," he said over her sputtered protests. "It is a ways to the place we will shelter tonight." He turned away from her, calling, "Roderick Dhu, see to the wench, the wagon, and my lady's horse. The wench is not to be touched by anyone." Then, kicking his mount, he moved forward.
"My lord!" Fiona protested as they rode. "I find your conduct most outrageous. Ye have no feud with the Gordons of Brae. Why do ye wish to start one? Give me back my horse at once!" She squirmed against him in an apparent effort to escape him.
"Do ye never shut yer mouth, woman?"
"I will not be treated in such a despicable fashion, my lord!" Fiona declared spiritedly. She attempted to slide from his grasp. "Let me go, ye uncouth heathen! Let me go this minute!"
"Woman," Colin MacDonald said grimly, "don't make me regret my actions this day in stealing ye away from the laird of Loch Brae."
"Stealing me? I will not be stolen!" she insisted. "Why would ye steal me from my Black Angus, my lord?"
"Because, Fiona Hay," he answered her, "I want ye for my own wife. Yer laird has had many a long month to make an honest woman of ye, but he would not do it. Well, I will! The moment I first saw ye I wanted ye, and by the blessed rood, I will have ye, woman!"
"Well, I will not have ye!" Fiona said angrily.
"Ye have no choice in the matter."
"Ye canna wed me if I'll not have ye," she insisted.
He laughed suddenly. She talked too much. She was opinionated, but by God, she made him laugh. He needed a woman who could do that. She was beautiful, and he had wanted her not even knowing the sort of woman she was. He had thought it wouldn't matter because he desired her. He hadn't even cared, but now that he could see some of her many aspects, he was becoming more intrigued, more fascinated by her.
"I wanted ye. I have taken ye, and there is an end to it, Fiona Hay," he told her firmly. "Now be quiet, for I must concentrate upon the track in this fading light if we are to reach the safety of our shelter tonight. Remember, there is not an early moon to guide us."
Fiona grew silent. It had gone well, she thought. The king would be quite pleased. Now she must follow her instincts in order to keep Colin MacDonald interested in her without boring him. If he was learning about the woman he desired, she, too, must learn about the man he was. She snuck a peek at him. His handsome long face was deep in concentration as he carefully moved his mount along the barely discernible trail, leading the men behind him. Once they had exited the glen, there was a bit more light, but not for very long. They had turned northwest, Fiona noted, for the sunset was almost directly ahead of them. Nairn was more north. Where were they going?
They rode for close to another hour, and then in the last fading vestiges of the twilight Fiona saw stone walls and buildings ahead of them. Was it St. Margaret's? It couldn't be. Shortly she discovered that their destination was the ruins of some small castle. Their party entered the courtyard and dismounted. The horses were carefully tethered in a wooden shed that had a roof. A fire was started in the courtyard's center. Water was drawn from the castle's well and given to the animals.
Fiona and Nelly sat silently in the cart, watching as the clansmen skinned and gutted the rabbits they had hunted along their way, then put them on spits over the fire.
"At least we'll not starve," Nelly said quietly to her mistress. "We have some bread, fruit, and cheese left in our basket, too."
Soon they were brought a joint of the hot, freshly cooked rabbit to share. When they had finished their meal, Nelly hurried across the courtyard beneath the hot eyes of the men to fetch some water from the well so they might wash the grease from their hands and faces. Then the two women sat quietly together, wondering where they were to sleep. Finally The MacDonald of Nairn, in the company of Roderick Dhu, joined them.
"Yer servant will sleep in the cart," he said. "The men have been warned again that she is not to be touched. Roderick will watch over her."
"Thank ye, my lord," Fiona said quietly. "Nelly is dear to me. I should be most angry if anything were to happen to her."
"I'll guard her with my life, lady," Roderick Dhu said.
Fiona nodded at him.
Colin MacDonald took her hand in a firm grasp. "Come with me," he said, and before she might demur, he pulled her from the cart, half dragging her away from the fire and into the darkness of the night.
"Where are we going?" she demanded of him, her heart beginning to pound quickly. It was too soon! She wasn't ready for this!
He said nothing, leading her instead from the courtyard and around behind the castle, away from the others. Finally he stopped. The moon was just beginning to rise over the eastern hills, and in its dim light Fiona watched as he spread a cloak upon the grassy embankment.
"No!" she said, backing away from him.
He caught her hand. "Come now, Fiona mine."
"I am not yers," she said softly.
"Aye, sweeting, ye are," he answered. "From the first moment I laid eyes upon ye, ye were mine, though ye knew it not." Inexorably he drew her into his embrace. Fiona turned from his passionate gaze, but Colin MacDonald caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his mouth taking possession of hers.
The touch of his lips on hers was strange, for she had never kissed any man but Angus Gordon. His lips were warm, firm, demanding. She had only begun to explore the sensation of his proximity when he kicked her legs out from beneath her, lowering her to the cloak upon the grassy knoll. Fiona gasped with her surprise to find herself upon her back, and Colin MacDonald straddling her. " 'Twas not fair!" she cried at him.
He laughed softly at her. "I mean to have my way with ye, Fiona sweeting," he told her bluntly. He pinioned her between his legs, resting himself upon his heels so that his great size would not crush her.
" 'Twas unfairly done," she said indignantly.
In response to her protest he reached out, drawing her plaid aside, and began to unlace her blouse. She caught at his hands, but Colin MacDonald shook his head admonishingly at her and, grasping her wrists in one of his big hands, imprisoned them above her head. "No, no, Fiona sweeting, don't hinder me. Those sweet breasts of yers have tantalized me for weeks. I must see them!" His large fingers were surprisingly supple and skilled. Swiftly they unlaced the garment, then the chemise. Pushing aside the soft fabric, he gazed upon her bared bosom. "Ah, Fiona," he finally said, "how perfect ye are."
She flushed beneath his hot gaze, biting her lip to hold back her cry. She didn't understand what was the matter with her. To her shame she found his hungry look exciting. Her breasts had matured in the last two years, becoming fuller and almost perfectly round in shape. The skin was milky white and very soft to the touch.
Colin MacDonald reached out to caress the two sweet globes of flesh. His fingertips touched her tenderly, brushing across the fullness lightly, stirring up feelings she had not believed any but Angus Gordon could awaken.
"No more," she pleaded with him. "Don't touch me, I beg ye, my lord. Why must ye shame me like this?" There were tears in her emerald-green eyes that glittered in the light of the quarter moon. She had known this morning what the king expected of her, but faced with the reality of it, she did not know if she could bear it.
His expression serious, he bent in answer to her plea, kissing the flesh of her bosom. "Yer mad, Fiona sweeting, if ye think I can stop now," he told her. "What is between us is as unquenchable as a roaring fire. Ye canna stanch it any more than ye can stem the rising tide."