Love Wild and Fair

Jemmie snickered. 'It's said she's overgenerous wi her favors, but I hae never gotten her into bed. They say the bairn she bore Stewart was not his. He was such a weakling it's doubtful he ever stuck it in her.' He looked at his sister. 'Ye like Glenkirk now, don't ye, Cat?'

'Aye.'

'Then beware Cousin Fiona, for it's plain to see she's stalking him, though I doubt poor Glenkirk realizes it.'

But Patrick was quite well aware of Fiona's interest, and had Cat not been staying in the castle, he might even have amused himself for a bit with his hot-blooded, red-haired cousin. He knew the whispers about her were probably true, but it might be fun to confirm them.

One night just after Christmas, Fiona attempted to force the earl. With everyone else long in bed, the earl remained talking before the fire with his brother, Adam. He wanted a match between the Forbes heiress and Adam. Adam, however, convinced him that their youngest brother, seventeen-year-old Michael, would be far better suited to thirteen-year-old Isabella Forbes than he.

'I want to marry soon, and not a child. Michael willna be ready to wed for three or four more years yet. By that time the Forbes lass will be ripe. Make the match between them. She'll go mad for his handsome baby face.'

Patrick laughed. 'All right, brother, but who's the maid yer saving yerself for?'

Adam smiled, and his eyes narrowed. 'I've nae opened my suit wi her, but I will soon.'

The brothers sat awhile longer, drinking the mulled wine special to the holiday season. Both were tall, as their father had been, but where Patrick had his mother's dark hair and the Leslies' green-gold eyes, Adam had the Leslies' red hair-his was a warm russet shade-and the amber eyes of the Stewarts.

Now, warm with brotherly camaraderie and rich red wine, they climbed the stairs to their apartments. 'I've some good whisky from old MacBean's still,' said the earl. 'Come in, lad, and hae a drop wi me. 'Twill help ye to sleep.' He opened the door to his bedroom and walked in, his brother close behind him.

'Jesu,' Adam gasped. On his brother's bed, the firelight playing across her naked white body, lay Fiona Stewart. 'Why, bless me, coz! Yer the sweetest sight I’ve seen tonight!'

'What the hell do ye do here?' demanded the earl, suddenly very sober and icy with rage.

'Ye wouldna come to me, Patrick,' she said softly, 'so I hae come to you.'

He could smell the warm musk of her perfumed body. 'I pay for my whores, Fiona. How much do ye charge?'

'Patrick!' she pleaded huskily with him. 'Please! I’m mad for ye, cousin! Marry yer milksop virgin if ye must, but take me! Be my lover. Yell nae regret it, Patrick!'

'By God,' said Adam dryly. 'What's yer secret, brother? Fve yet to receive such a marvelous invitation from any woman.'

Patrick turned to his younger brother. 'Ye want that?'

Adam looked back at him. 'Aye. For some time now.'

'Then take it! I'll sleep in your room tonight.'

'No!' screamed Fiona angrily. 'I want you, not that boy coxcomb!'

'My dear cousin,' said the earl calmly, 'from all the rumors I hear, ye hae certainly had much experience. Ye must know that making love to someone ye don't want is not only aesthetically distasteful, but damned boring to boot.' Turning his back on her, he walked from the room.

Adam closed the door behind his brother and shot the iron bolt home with a loud thunk. 'Well, Fiona luv,' he drawled lazily, 'I hae been wanting to get ye in this position for some time now.'

'Go to hell,' she spat furiously at him, and standing up she tried to walk to the door.

Adam reached out and, grasping an arm, pulled her back. 'Nay, hinny,' he said cruelly, crushing a pointed breast in his hand. 'Nay! Tonight yell spread yer legs for me!' He pushed her back onto the bed, and Fiona suddenly felt afraid.

Since she'd first been tumbled in the straw of a darkened stable at thirteen by her father's head groom, she'd always held the upper hand in these situations. Helplessly she lay on the bed, and watched her cousin slowly strip off his clothes. The back and shoulders that faced her were broad and well-muscled. They ran into a narrow waist. Off came his trunk hose. His hips were slim, his buttocks nicely rounded. Adam Leslie turned around, and Fiona gasped in shock. Once she'd seen her father's prized stud stallion mounting a mare in a field. She'd hoped then she would find a man with one as big. Now suddenly he stood laughing before her.

'Aye, sweetheart! For five years ye've been running away from the very thing ye wanted.'

'Jesu,' she whispered. 'Ye'll kill me wi that!' But the moist, secret place between her legs was throbbing hungrily. Practically crying, she held out her arms to him. His body quickly covered hers, and he felt her warm hand eagerly reach to guide him. Carefully he pushed into her, and having ascertained that she could easily receive his bulk, he began a slow, sensuous movement. Her body writhed wildly beneath him, her nails raking his back. As his movements became faster and fiercer, she began a low moaning that a few minutes later culminated in a shriek of pure joy.

He rolled off her and lay quietly catching his breath. Then, raising himself on one elbow, he looked down at her and said, 'For a wench who's been whoring since she was barely pubescent, ye know damned little, and it's yer own fault! Ye've confined yer activities to amateurish lowlifes.' Bending his head, he thoughtfully nibbled for a minute at a pointed breast while his fingers played between her legs. 'Now I, sweetheart,' he continued, 'have been educated by the finest whores in Paris, London, and Aberdeen. I shall happily teach ye everything I know.'

Still resisting him somewhat, Fiona said, 'I've nae said I'd be yer mistress, you vain boy!'

'I dinna ask ye, my dear.'

She looked puzzled.

'I am sure that by now,' he said, 'the church is used to giving Leslie cousins dispensations to wed.'

Fiona was stunned. 'I'm older than you,' she protested feebly.

'By five whole weeks,' he chuckled. 'I’ll be twenty next week, luv.' He pulled her under him again, and she could feel his hardness against her leg.

'I dinna want ye!' she raged at him. 'I want Glenkirk!'

'Ye can't have him, hinny. He doesn't want you.' He forced her legs apart.

'Ye hae no money!' said Fiona. 'Besides, I'll nae live in someone else's house!'

'I have quite a good income from investments Grandmam made for me, as do you. Alone I am worth more than many a belted earl. I also hae a share in the family shipping, and the sheep businesses. Ye have a house in Edinburgh that belonged to yer grandmother, Fiona Abernethy. We'll travel for several years, and when wee King Jamie is grown, well return, live in Edinburgh, and go to court' He pushed deep into her, then lay quiet.

Fiona never understood why she spoke, but she said, 'I canna have any bairns. Stewart's brat ruined me.'

'I know,' he replied with irritating calm. 'The midwife ye called afterwards has delivered at least three of my bastards. It cost me two gold pieces to get that information. And sweetheart, I know it wasna Stewart's babe.' He laughed as she swore a string of oaths. 'Let Patrick, Jamie, and Michael carry on the family name wi a pack of babies,' he said. 'I want just you. BUT if I ever catch ye wi another man, I'll beat ye black and blue, and deny ye this-' he thrust viciously in her- 'for a month!' His amber eyes narrowed, and glowed down at her.

The thought of losing what she'd been seeking so long made a shudder run through her. Wrapping her legs around him, she whispered in a frightened voice₉ 'I'll be good, Adam! I swear it!'

The following day, to everyone's surprise, Adam Leslie announced to his assembled family that he was marrying his cousin, Lady Stewart. Since neither his mother, nor Fiona's parents had been informed, pandemonium broke loose.

Patrick spoke up in his brother's defense. 'They asked my permission,' he lied smoothly, 'but, uncle, I must apologize to you for not consulting wi you beforehand. My own upcoming nuptials have addled my brain.' He turned to his younger brother and said sternly. 'It was nae yer place to announce yer intentions until I had spoken to our uncle.'

Adam looked properly contrite.

'Come, my uncle of Sithean,' said the Earl of Glenkirk. 'Let us speak privately. Even a beautiful widow must have a dowry.'

Before he could protest, the Lord of Sithean found himself borne off to the library, where Adam apprised him of