They had a long summer ahead of them, and for the next few weeks they lived in a daze of happiness.
But then, on a night in early June, the signal fires sprang up across the border hills, and a Hepburn clansman rode into Cleit to tell the laird that the king had broken the promises made just a few weeks prior. The prince and his forces were massing. The Highlands were mustering in defense of King James. This time there would be a battle fought, and when it was over and done with there would be one king of Scotland.
Adair fed the Hepburn clansman, and he remained the night, departing at first light back for Hailes. She gave him several oatcakes and dried beef for his day-long journey. He thanked her, and then spoke with the laird.
“My master asks that you come to Hailes with all duehaste, for we will march north in two days’ time, my lord.”
“We will be there,” Conal Bruce said. “And my half brother, the laird of Duffdour, Ian Armstrong, will be with us.”
Then the messenger was gone from Cleit, and before the sun was even up Duncan Armstrong was riding for Duffdour. Preparations were being made for the laird and his men to depart the following morning. There were thirty men besides Conal Bruce and his brothers residing at the keep. Twenty-five of them would march out with their clan lord, but Conal worried that leaving only five fighting men at Cleit could put Adair and the other women in danger.
She calmed his concerns with her common sense.
“Cleit is not an important keep, and only those coming here deliberately and with a purpose are apt to know about it. We will keep the gates locked both day and night; nor will we admit any stranger. The hill upon which we sit gives us a great advantage over the countryside, for we can see if anyone is approaching. The keep is virtually impregnable when the gates are closed.
Besides, there is nothing here to steal,” she said with a mischievous smile.
“You are not as fearful this time,” he noted, taking her hand in his.
“That is because I know you will return to me,” Adair said with certainty.
Duncan Armstrong returned late that afternoon to tell Conal that their brother, the laird of Duffdour, would join them at Melville Cross with twenty of his clansmen on the following day. Then together they would meet up with the Hepburn at Hailes.
That night Elsbeth and the women outdid themselves, serving a great feast for the laird and his men.
There was salmon broiled in white wine and served upon a bed of fresh watercress, though where enough fish for the hall had come from was not a question anyone asked. Salmon streams were owned only by the mighty, and Cleit did not have one. There was venison stew with carrots and leeks, and rabbit pies with rich brown gravy oozing in steamy runnels from their flaky crusts. There was a side of beef that had been roasted packed in rock salt to preserve its juices. There were capons served with a sauce made from the last of the winter lemons and a bit of precious gingerroot. There was a small boar that had foolishly come too near the keep seeking an easy meal, only to be slain and roasted for his misjudgment. There were mounds of fresh bread, butter, and cheeses. And the ale and wine flowed. The men would ride off their heads on the morrow. Tonight was for feasting, and singing songs of past battles in the keep’s hall.
And when finally the men had all gone to their rest, Adair slowly made her rounds, seeing that all was secure for the night. Then she joined Conal in their bed.
He was naked and eager for her, but she cooled his ardor gently, for she did not choose to rush this night of all nights. He watched with a burning gaze as she slowly disrobed, placing her garments neatly aside for the morning. Then she bathed herself in a basin, and he grew more lustful as he looked upon her high, full breasts and the curve of her hip.
“Will you brush my hair?” she asked him and, without waiting for an answer, handed him the little pear-wood brush as she sat down on the edge of their bed.
Wordlessly he took up the brush and smoothed it down her sable tresses. After some minutes had passed he set the brush aside and, reaching around her, cupped her breasts within his big hands. His lips placed a burning kiss on her shoulder.
“Ummm,” Adair murmured, leaning back against
him and watching as his fingers played with her nipples.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he whispered into her ear, and his tongue licked at the delicate curl of flesh.
“I don’t want you to go, but you have your duty, Conal.
I know you will never be a great lord, but I love you as you are. Your clan is an honorable one, and it would dis-honor the Bruce name should you refuse to support the prince. He will prevail in this matter. I sense it.” She turned in his arms and pushed him back onto their bed.
Then, leaning over him, she began to lick his body with her hot little tongue. “I will soothe you, my husband, and you will go off tomorrow knowing you must return home to me.” She nipped at his nipples with her teeth, then licked them quickly before moving down his torso. She kissed his belly, and her tongue foraged within his navel.
He groaned with delight at her passion, but then he took charge, catching her in his arms and kissing her until she was dizzy. He felt her hands caressing him, and, sliding between her soft thighs, he sought for her love jewel with his mouth and tongue, playing with her until her pungent milky juices were flowing. Then, mounting her, he filled her with his lust until they were both re-plete, their bodies tangled together, their hearts beating wildly with desire satisfied.
“It can only be this once tonight, my honey love,” he apologized. “I must keep my strength for the morrow.”
Then, with Adair wrapped in his arms, they slept for several hours.
Conal Bruce awoke with the first scrap of light in the sky. June brought very long days. Outside he heard a birdcall, and then another. Beside him Adair slumbered, curled tightly against him. For several long minutes more he enjoyed the feel of her, the scent of her body in his nostrils. He would carry this memory into the battle to be, wherever and whenever it was fought.
Finally he arose, stifling a groan of regret as he did. He peed in the chamber pot, washed himself in the chamber basin, and dressed quickly. As he was pulling on his boots Adair awoke from her deep sleep.
“Is it time?” she asked him.
