Malcolm began to stir. Noreen allowed the bedding to slip down to her waist. The snoring ceased as he woke. He propped himself up on the pillows and reached out to toy with her exposed nipples.
“Seeing Faolan reminds me of what needs doing,” Malcolm remarked.
He pinched one of her nipples. Noreen bit her lip. He was a heavy-handed man. Once she had two sons, she’d never entice him into her bed again. But for the moment, she’d endure his rough touch.
Malcolm chuckled and pinched her nipple again. “Ye are almost perfect, Noreen, but I see the distaste in yer eyes.”
He rolled over her and caught her chin, so their gazes were locked. “Shall I tell ye how much I enjoy knowing ye wed me instead of Faolan? I like knowing I took his woman.”
Malcolm’s cock was hardening again. His lips were twisted in a smile of enjoyment as he pressed her thighs wide.
But Noreen grasped his forearms to pull him to her. She lifted her hips so his cock nestled into the opening of her body.
“I have always welcomed ye in me bed,” she said in a low hiss. “Yet, ye have left me cold while sleeping with a maid.”
Malcolm grunted as he thrust into her. “Ye’re too delicate. Which is why ye’ve given me naught but daughters. I should have ye whipped for making sure me mistress does nae conceive.”
“I will give ye a son!” Noreen declared. “A high-born son! No maid can give ye a son to compare with the one I will birth for ye. Would ye have yer son suffer a bastard brother to covet his place like Faolan?”
“Do nae say his name, woman,” Malcolm declared. “Ye are the finest-blooded mare in me stable. And ye are mine!”
Malcolm was breathing hard, but she saw the determination glittering in his eyes. He twisted a hand in her hair as he rode her, pulling the strands as he neared his climax. She’d learned early in her marriage to move in time with her husband. Such effort shortened how long he’d last. Tonight was no different. He spilled his seed inside her, and before long, he was snoring again beside her.
Of course, he wouldn’t leave while Faolan was inside the castle. Malcolm was a very jealous man.
Faolan had courted her, but he’d lacked the ambition to do what was necessary to take the lairdship. Malcolm hadn’t. Her husband had a streak of cruelty in him. It was cold and vicious when he applied it to his rivals. As a son born out of a handfasting, Faolan was deemed just shy of legitimate when he stood next to Malcolm, who was the child of a union blessed by the Church.
Such a thing would have mattered little if Faolan been willing to fight for the lairdship of the McKay. Noreen let out a soft sigh of regret. Faolan had a core of integrity. It was admirable, as well as his Achilles heel. Power went to those willing to shake hands in dark passageways. To get a position such as a lairdship, a man would have to be willing to make a few promises to the older captains who wouldn’t cast their vote without knowing for certain that their interests would be priorities for the new laird.
Faolan believed in fairness and a man receiving what he earned. Pity. For she would have preferred Faolan over Malcolm. But she would be Lady McKay.
And so she was.
And the witnesses to the handfasting between Faolan’s father and mother were all gone now. The topic forbidden inside the walls of the castle. Which meant it was whispered about, and Noreen had made sure the matrons who owed her allegiance told the new generation that the handfasting had never taken place. That Faolan was a bastard. His children could never be allowed to grow up and threaten her own with their blood.
Noreen allowed her true feelings to show on her face. The moon was rising, and with the bed curtains open, the silver light washed over Malcolm while he slept.
He was harsh and jealous, but she knew how to use such traits to her advantage. Even if she’d been wearing sackcloth, her husband would have bedded her tonight. Malcolm couldn’t abide the thought of her sneaking out to tryst with Faolan.
But she needed a son. If Malcolm hadn’t come to her bed tonight, she might have contemplated cuckolding her husband. Malcolm truly was a good match for her, for she had ambition, too. And there was no way she was going to allow her husband’s fickle nature over who he bedded to see her losing her position due to the lack of a son. If Malcolm didn’t fill her belly, Faolan would do well enough for the job. The bloodline wouldn’t be broken, just bent.
Noreen really needed to think of a way to keep Faolan in the stronghold for a bit longer.
*
There was a tingle on the back of Cora’s neck.
She paced across the center of the chamber Lady McKay had provided for her and turned around. Everything appeared in good order. There was a fine bed for her. Maids had hurried to make certain she had a clean smock to wear. Neatly hung in the wardrobe were no less than three dresses for her to try in the morning. Clothing was so costly, the abundance was clearly an attempt to impress her brother when Cora returned home and recounted her treatment.
Something was bothering her, though.
Ye know well what is needling ye…
Cora let out a little huff. She did know what the center of her restlessness was. She didn’t like the way Faolan had been treated.
Alright, she’d downright detested the cold look Laird McKay had used.
Do nae get involved in other families’ personal affairs…
It was sound advice. She really should listen to it. After all, she didn’t really know Faolan.
He saved yer life.
He had, and it appeared that nothing much else mattered when it came to the way she felt about the McKays.
He’d be gone at first light.
Cora couldn’t blame him. She certainly wouldn’t want to linger in a place where she was greeted so coldly. In fact, she doubted Faolan would even have stayed for the night if he wasn’t mindful of the fact that his captain, Gainor, needed to rest.
Cora felt another emotion gripping her. Just like an icy hand closed around her heart. She felt abandoned, left behind, and tears actually burned her eyes.
Tears?
She sat down, completely absorbed in the idea of knowing Faolan affected her so deeply. Her temper started to flare, but she snuffed out the flame. There was something more important to think about than her pride.
Her brother.
Aye, that was what she needed to contemplate. Buchanan hadn’t insisted on sending her to her groom. He’d given her time and freedom. Cora knew the reason why.
Her brother loved his wife.
Against all odds, he’d found love with a woman Fate and circumstance had attempted to separate him from. All of the lectures from her childhood couldn’t hold up to the fact that Cora had seen the way Buchanan looked at his wife.
Love was real.
Are ye suggesting ye love Faolan?
The question stirred up a memory of the way Faolan had carried her over his shoulder.
He could not be the man for her.
She shook her head and stood. What she needed to do was think of the encounter as confirmation of the fact that there was nothing wrong with her. All of the frustration she’d been battling before leaving the Mackenzie stronghold had a purpose. To help ensure she didn’t end up in a marriage that would strangle her.
So ye will go home and never see Faolan again?
That icy feeling was back. This time it was harder to shake off. Cora had walked toward the bed, but by the time she made it there, getting into it felt like a task she just couldn’t force herself to perform.