“Mayhaps not.” Malcolm leaned toward her, took her hand in his, and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Yet, that need not stop it from giving us each some pleasure.”
“ ‘Twill give ye death,” Alexander muttered from his hiding place outside, and he started toward the window.
Jaime quickly grabbed him, holding him firmly. “Hold. Dinna intrude now, m’laird.”
“Do ye think I should hold back until they are locked in an embrace?” he hissed but ceased to struggle.
“Just listen. I beg of ye. Just listen.” Jaime kept a firm grip on Alexander even when the man calmed down.
“For a wee bit longer. No more. And if this is truly no more than some adulterous tangle—ye will pay dearly for this impertinence.”
“Fair enough.” Jaime prayed that the truth would be said aloud.
“Pleasure?” Ailis laughed bitterly and shook her head. “Ye find pleasure in betrayal?”
“Ye see betrayal,” Malcolm grumbled. “I see naught but a bargain made and kept.”
“What bargain?” demanded Alexander, careful to keep his voice low so as not to alert the ones he and Jaime spied upon.
“Hush and listen.”
“I think ye grow mighty impertinent,” Alexander said, but he did hush. Something about the agitation in Jaime’s demeanor told him to try and be calm, to listen and watch before acting.
“And ye have no intention of releasing me from it, do ye?” asked Ailis, already sure of his answer.
“Nay. Do ye think I would demand such a thing if I didna want it very badly, indeed? Aye, I ken what ye think about MacCordys, but we werena—arena—all so depraved. However, I found that I wanted ye badly enough to stoop low, indeed.”
“Even to demanding that I break sacred vows, play the whore for ye, to save the life of my child?”
“Aye, even to that.” Malcolm finished his wine in one deep gulp, then refilled his tankard. A somewhat sullen expression settled on his handsome face.
Jaime felt a distinct change in Alexander’s stance and, even in the dark, could see the arrested look upon the man’s face. With continued caution he eased his hold on the Laird of Rathmor. When all Alexander did was to turn and look at him, Jaime breathed an inner sigh of relief.
“This was some sort of bargain made for my son’s life?” Alexander could not believe what he was hearing.
“Aye.” Jaime nearly retreated from the look of fury upon Alexander’s face and was concerned about whom that fury would be visited upon.
“Tell meexactlywhat the bargain was. Now!” he demanded when Jaime hesitated.
“That Malcolm would do all he could to save her and her child if she promised to spend one night with him.”
“And Ailis agreed to that?” Alexander was not sure who he wanted to strike down most—Malcolm for being such a dishonorable rogue or Ailis for being so foolish as to think that she had to keep such a bargain.
“What choice did she have?” Jaime argued. “She was wet to the bone, tired, and about to give birth. Aye, and Donald MacCordy himself was close at hand. There didna seem to be any other choice to be made.”
Alexander felt a sharp stab of pain penetrate his anger. He could so easily see poor Ailis—wet, exhausted, and in the most vulnerable state any woman can be in. Jaime had been there to help her, but he had his limitations. Alexander had always deeply regretted that he had not been there to help her instead was stuck at Rathmor. Now that he realized what situations she had gotten into, he regretted it even more. He also ached to make Malcolm MacCordy pay dearly for forcing Ailis into such a deal. When he took a step toward the window intending to pacify his need for action, Ailis began to speak again, and he paused. While a great part of him felt that he had learned all he needed to know, a small part craved more.
“Why, Malcolm?” she asked. “Why even ask this of me? Why demand of me something I was not willing to give ye freely? Surely ye can get all the women ye need? Ye shouldna have to threaten or coerce a woman into pleasing your lusts.”
“Nay, I dinna have to, but they canna give me what ye can.”
“What? What do ye think I can give ye? I have all the same parts any woman does.”
Malcolm cursed and raked his fingers through his hair. “ ‘Tisna the parts. I can buy the cursed parts for a ha’penny. ‘Tis what ye have in here.” He lightly struck his broad chest with his fist. “ ‘Tis what ye give that thrice-cursed MacDubh.”
“I can never giveyethat, Malcolm,” she said in a solemn voice.
“Oh, I ken that he has a bonny face and a sweet tongue—“
