Maggie closed her eyes and let the sensation sweep over her as his tongue licked first the soft insides of her thighs, then the interior of her nether lips, and finally found her little jewel. He flicked his tongue back and forth over the sensitive flesh, his rhythm increasing until she was nearly mindless. And when his lips closed over her jewel and he sucked hard about it, she screamed low as the sensation burst with a ferocity that left her weak with her delight.
Fin stood, pulling her to the edge of the bed, legs raised over his shoulders; he thrust into her as he stood, his swollen length pistoning her with long slow strokes at first, and then increasing the cadence until his cock was flashing furiously back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Her wet heated sheath tightened about him, causing him to almost lose his control. Maggie’s legs wrapped about his neck, encouraging him to bring them both to the pleasure of perfection. And he finally did, roaring his satisfaction as her nails clawed at him. “Jesu, woman!” he groaned happily. “Yer near to killing me with yer sweet loving.” He fell on the bed next to her, still fully clothed.
Maggie sighed contentedly, thinking she was glad she was taking Agnes Kerr’s remedy now, for he had spilled a great deal of his potent seed a few moments ago.
Davy was two now, and Andrew just past one. She wanted no more bairns for the interim. Reaching out, she slipped her hand into his. “I do love ye, Fin. I don’t know when I realized it, but I do. For the love of Sweet Mary, dinna get yerself killed by some northerner. I don’t know why men cannot remain at peace.”
“I’ll not be in the forefront of things, lass,” he promised her. “I’m not important enough to be given a command. I’ll be remaining as much out of sight as possible, although actually the best place to be will be the king’s side. James is no coward, but his lords will not allow anything to happen to him. Especially with his son so small.”
“And if yer by his side, he’ll know ye’ve come,” Maggie remarked. Then she considered. “Nay, just let him see ye, and then stay in the background. Now take yer clothes off, and let us continue what ye began when ye admitted to loving me.”
“Yer insatiable, madam,” he said, chuckling, but he arose, and began to pull off his garments, not bothering to lay them neatly aside, but tossing them to lie where they fell, the quicker to return to her warm arms and loving embrace, for on the morrow he would depart Brae Aisir to join the king.
“Take an extra man to send back to me that I know ye’ve arrived safely and joined the king,” Maggie said the next morning as she stood by his horse in the courtyard.
“I’ll send Archie back,” Fin told her. “I’ve no need of a serving man, but he’s so used to being by my side I could not tell him nay.”
Maggie nodded. “Grizel will be relieved,” she said low.
“So that’s the way it is,” Fin replied, smiling.
“We’re not supposed to know,” Maggie told him, “but I have eyes in my head.” She took her husband’s gloved hand and kissed it. “Be careful, Fingal Stewart, and do not take chances. I want ye back. I need ye back!”
“I will be back,” he promised her.
Father David stepped forward now to bless Fingal Stewart, and his party of men, praying aloud to God and the Blessed Lord Jesu and Holy Mary for their safe return.
Maggie watched him as he rode off, her grandsire by her side. There were tears in her eyes, but she sensed with every fiber of her being that he would be back.
Very little word of the king’s expedition seeped into the Borders. Each family had sent some form of representation in order to keep on the king’s good side. Ewan Hay had watched his brother ride off, but he would not go. Why would he fight for a man who had taken Mad Maggie Kerr from him? Besides, James Stewart wouldn’t care if Ewan Hay was fighting in his war or not. He had Ewan’s elder brother, Lord Hay of Haydoun, among his warriors. If Lord Hay didn’t return, it didn’t matter to him since Ewan was not his heir. His brother had two half-grown sons in good health, and then, of course, Ewan was the youngest of three brothers. Their middle brother had not gone to war either.
The spring turned into summer. There was no word from the north on how the king’s war was going. Traffic through the Aisir nam Breug was busy, however, with the groups of merchants headed for Edinburgh, Perth, and Aberdeen, along with family parties and single peddlers. A caravan of gypsies exited the pass one afternoon and asked for permission to spend two nights on Brae Aisir’s lands because their leader’s wife was about to give birth to her first child. Maggie gave her approval, walking down to personally speak with the gypsy leader. She liked the gypsies, for they had always brought her luck.
“Yer welcome to stay,” she told the man, “but dinna steal my livestock. We’re just a border family and have nothing to spare but water and a welcome.”
“Ye’ve a king’s favor,” the gypsy said to Maggie.
“Do we?” Maggie responded, pretending amusement.
“Aye, and ye know ye do,” the gypsy responded. “Yer man will be back safe in a short while, but beware, my lady, for ye have an enemy nearby who seeks to claim all that is yers. He hates ye, but desires ye too. He is dangerous.” Then the gypsy bowed. “That is all I see, my lady.”
Maggie had felt a shiver go down her spine when the gypsy man’s eyes had suddenly become unfocused and he spoke. But she respected the sight he possessed. “Thank ye,” she told him. “Does yer wife need anything?”
“Nay, but I thank ye for the asking,” the man said.
Maggie turned and walked back to the keep. Who secretly desired her, but also hated her? She couldn’t begin to imagine an answer, and put the gypsy’s prophecy from her mind, concentrating on the fact he had said her husband would be home soon. That meant more to her than some vague prediction that she had an enemy. And how long was a short while? A week? A month? Did the gypsy really know? Or had he just said it, knowing that most every woman in the Borders was without her man right now? More than likely that was it, but she did believe in the sight, and the gypsy seemed genuine.
Then two days after the gypsies had departed Brae Aisir, Lord Stewart, Iver, and their men returned home. Maggie decided under the circumstances not to begrudge the gypsies the lamb that had disappeared when they departed. Their leader’s wife had birthed a male bairn. Her husband was unscathed, and none of their men had been injured. Dugald Kerr was eager to learn all that had happened. The entire household and village crowded into the hall that evening to learn of Lord Stewart’s adventures.
Fingal took a sip of wine from his goblet, and then looking out into the hall from the high board, began. “Ye all know how independent the northerners have always been,” he said. “And Scots kings have gone north to visit, but never before like this. The king set sail to make real to the entire north the power that is his, and every Scots king’s. We sailed across the Moray Firth and through the Pentland Firth to Orkney and Shetland. Then we sailed south again around Cape Wrath, down and through the isles. The local chieftains were more than surprised.”
Laughter erupted in the hall. They could but imagine the shock the chieftains and the people of the Western Isles experienced as the king’s fleet sailed into view with its small army.
“We took a number of captives from the isles,” Fingal continued. “They will stand hostage for their chieftains’ behavior. They have been taken to Dunbar and Tantallon castles as well as to Bass Rock to be housed. The king has now taken the lordship of the isles for the Crown. I think the northwest will now be peaceful for the interim.”
“He’s a clever fellow, the king,” Dugald Kerr said. “He’s given the men in the northwest the same lesson he gave the rebels here in the Borders ten years ago. Aye, they’ll be silent for now. And ye brought everyone home safe. ’Tis a good thing.”
“I’ve been a mercenary, as ye know, Dugald. I know fighting. There was little involved in this expedition. A skirmish here and there, but nothing of significance. The chieftains gave up their hostages without a fight. Most of them are tired of all the feuding and quarreling. They have all they can do to survive, but there’s always someone now and again among them who will rise up in rebellion. I think they hope the many hostages their families have given will help them to keep that one man, whoever he will be, in check.” He looked around the hall at all the familiar faces. “God’s foot, ’tis good to be home again!” He lifted his goblet to those gathered. “To Brae Aisir and her clan folk!” he said to them, and they cheered him. They no longer thought of Fingal Stewart as an outsider who had wed their heiress. He was one of them now.
