She had taken to walking around the keep in a daze, missing much of the giggling and secretive smiles from Adaira and the housemaids. Even Sorcha’s smile seemed wider whenever she greeted Blair, and impossibly wider still when her gaze fell upon Reade and Blair at the evening meal where they stole glances and his hands roamed over her legs and waist under the table. Sorcha was too refined to comment, but from her expression, ‘twas obvious she knew Reade and Blair were finally pleased with each other in their chambers.
If Reade came upon Blair in the hallway, he’d crush her in his embrace, caress her lips with his, and guide her toward either their chambers or the nearest darkened alcove to find release with her, his hand covering her mouth so her cries of calling his name didn’t echo amongst the stone keep.
And mornings were as full of passion as the evenings. Just that morning, Reade had woken with a cockstand in the wee hours, more than ready for her. Yet he took his time with her, running his fingertips over her skin, tracing the faded white stripling of her scars, rubbing at the base of her neck and her scalp until she was awake and mewling in his arms. Only then did his fingers slip lower, between the petals of her womanhood, and find the magical places on her body – a small nub he skillfully tweaked – and rubbed it until her head had thrown against his chest and she arched her back.
Her bare buttocks curved into his hips, toying with his stiff, fiery rod. She had gasped with surprise when he shifted to push his manhood between her thighs from behind. With his strong arm around her waist, he gyrated his hips, easing his cock in and out of her weeping sheath as he worked her nub.
Blair had gasped and moaned and curled her fingers into anything she could hold onto – the bedding, his hips, his arm – anything to ground her as her mind and body spun out of control. The feeling of his thick cock in her body and his fingers between her legs was more than she could bear as she found her height with himagain. Reade’s breathing had increased behind her, panting his hot breath against her head and chanting her name in low groans into her ear.
Then he had stiffened behind her, clutching her so hard against his chest that her breath rushed from her body. He clenched once, twice, and a third time before relaxing slightly so she could take in breath once more.
But he still didn’t let go. Lovemaking with Reade was a full experience, one he never rushed, one he didn’t abandon once complete. He relished in that intimate moment with Blair, holding her, brushing his fingers against her shoulders or hair so she shuddered again, this time from the delicate touch of her already heightened and sensitive skin. She was certain he had chores to complete or work to do, duties that required him to leave their bed, but he didn’t. His hands remained on hers, touching softly, caring, and wrapped around her.
“Blair, are ye listening to me?” Adaira asked, breaking Blair’s lustful reverie.
They were in Sorcha’s solar, mending more clothes for the spring — a seemingly unending task. Blair’s cheeks flared in an embarrassed heat, and she dropped her gaze to the sewing on her lap, hoping Adaira couldn’t read her suggestive thoughts.
It didn’t work. Adaira bubbled up with her enchanting laughter and dropped her threads into her lap.
“Och, Blair. Ye behave as though we dinna know that ye and Reade are finally well and truly wed. Maddock told me he went riding with Reade yesterday, and he’d never seen our eldest brother smile before. He thought the man was sick! I told him aye, lovesick!”
Adaira cackled at her own joke, but Blair’s chin fell further against her chest. Lovesick? Reade had never mentioned love. Their bodies moved together in a perfect harmony, and she felt safe and cared for in his arms.
Butlove? Reade had never mentioned love. Then again, neither had she. They hadn’t wed for love, never discussed that possibility. Could one love someone they believed at their heart was an enemy? Or might be hiding something?
“Blair?”
“Aye, I’m listening now,” Blair told her, and Adaira’s face softened.
“Ye mentioned ye might want to go riding again? Would ye want to go on the morrow? Or if ‘tis too damp, the following day?”
Blair’s hands stopped mid-stitch.
Riding. The woods.
Her eyes widened in alarm before she caught herself. With her dynamic change in her relationship with Reade and the bustle at the MacDonalds tower in general, she hadn’t given a thought to the odd encounter she’d had in the woods with Paden. He and his threats had slipped from her mind completely.
Her relationship with Reade had changed so much. Might she be able to tell him what had happened in the woods? About Paden and how he threatened her?
Blair counted the days that had passed in her head as her fingers toyed with her sewing needle. Had it been nearly a fortnight? Had she missed the meeting time? Blair pressed her lips together as she pretended to study her sewing.
She decided she wouldn’t mention it to Reade, as she wasn’t sure she would even have the chance to ride out, and even if she did, she didn’t know if Paden would truly search her out if she didn’t meet him as instructed. She had no information, no knowledge of any letter, and no information about anything in regard to the MacDonalds to give Paden, anyway.
Mayhap she’d forget about meeting Paden altogether. What could one rotund man and his rogue Gordon bandits do against an entire clan of MacDonald warriors? She had naught to fret about. If she rode out with Adaira, ‘twould be on her schedule, and not to meet Paden. ‘Twas better if she forgot about the matter altogether. He was part of her previous life, and she had a new life now with Reade.
“We might go on the morrow or the day after if ye’d like to avoid the damp,” Blair finally answered. “’Tis a wet spring to be sure. Do we need nettles for soup? They might be ready to gather, and we can accomplish that task whilst we are about.”
Adaira nodded. “Most of the snow has melted in the lower glens and on the moors, and the streams have started to run clear. Mayhap we shall find some early Good King Henry or even some mint. We can ride in the next day or so.” Adaira glanced at the wide window that overlooked the inner courtyard. Light gray clouds gathered, obscuring the sun. A typical Scots spring day. “If the weather holds, that is.”
Blair gave her sister-by-law a weak smile. She may have decided not to concern herself with Paden and his empty threats, but a small reminder of him embedded in the back of her mind like a painful thorn. “A wee bit o’rain never harmed.”
Adaira returned the smile. “I’ll have the maids prepare sacks to have at the ready. Bring yourarasaidif the sky changes. Ye may no’ be bothered by the rain, but I’d prefer no’ to ride home in the mud.”
Blair was restrainedand hushed all night, and Reade noticed. It seemed to be more than her typical reticent character that she bore when she first arrived at Glenachulish. Had something happened to upset her? Had he made an inappropriate comment or inadvertently questioned her loyalty?
He hated to admit he wasn’t fully convinced at her innocence — she lived with Mungo and had to knowsomething— but after her explanation for her bruises and scars and of what her marriage to the Gordon man was like, the possibility that she was a willing participant in any treasonous activity lessened. He might be thick-headed, but he wasn’t a fool. If she did know anything, most likely she didn’t even realize she knew it. He had waited patiently for her to say something innocuous that gave him insight or knowledge about the whereabouts of the letter, but as of yet, she hadn’t.
I shall have to be ever more patient,Reade thought. A trait that his oft impetuous self found difficult.
