“O’ course she was,” Greer said dryly. He had arrived at MacDonnell only a week ago, just in time for his cousin’s funeral. But it had quickly become obvious that the late laird’s widow was a pain in the arse. She was forever weeping and whining and moping about the castle like some tragic ghost. And most often she wanted someone to weep and whine at. Since his Aunt Tilda was as good as accusing the woman of killing her son, and everyone here was keeping their distance until they sorted out what way the grass lay, he was the only one who had even spoken to her this last week. The woman had promptly decided he was her ally and had begun to trail him around like some poor starved puppy looking for a new home. In fact, that was why Greer had found Milly, pulled her up on his mount and slipped away from the keep. He’d been looking for a bit of respite.
His gaze slid to the maid, noting that her nipples were still erect and poking at the soft cloth of her worn gown. Seeing that he was looking, she ran one hand up her stomach to catch and briefly cup one round globe through the cloth, then licked her lips. The action made Greer’s still erect cock throb under his plaid and he caught her by the arm to urge her away from Alpin and his horse, saying over his shoulder. “Tell her ye could no’ find me.”
“But what about the guests?”
Greer stopped walking and closed his eyes on a sigh. Guests. Of course there were guests now too. As if half the country hadn’t just left after sticking about for two weeks and nearly eating MacDonnell out of its stores. Some stragglers were arriving too late to attend the funeral, but would still demand food and housing for the night at least. And as the new laird, he would be expected to greet and welcome them.
Milly’s small hand closing around his cock brought his eyes open and down to see that she was standing sideways to him, her position hiding from Alpin that she had her right hand under his plaid. Greer groaned as her hand slid the length of his erection, and then rose its length again.
“Tell them ye could no’ find me,” Greer repeated in a growl as the maid pressed her breasts against his arm and repeated the gloving action with her hand.
“But—”
“Go!” Greer roared, his hips jerking involuntarily under Milly’s attention. Trying for a calmer voice, he added, “I’ll be back soon.”
Alpin released a most put-upon sigh. The sound was followed though by a rustle that was probably the boy remounting his pony, and then the soft clop clop of the animal trotting out of the clearing.
Milly immediately dropped to her knees in the grass and ducked her head under his plaid to lay claim to the erection she’d been so eagerly fondling. Greer groaned and grabbed her head through the plaid for balance as she clasped his hips in her hands and began to move her mouth lustily over his organ.
Damn, the woman had some serious skill, he thought vaguely and then stopped thinking and gave himself up to the pleasure. Within moments he was roaring with release as he spilled himself down her throat.
“What was that?”
Saidh shook her head at Murine’s nervous question and reined in her mare, aware that the entire traveling party had done the same. Murine’s brother’s soldiers were all halted and peering warily into the woods around them, seeking the source of that pained shout.
“Ye do no’ think Laird MacDonnell’s ghost now walks these woods, do ye?” Murine asked worriedly and Saidh glanced to her with surprise.
“Nay. Of course no’. Do no’ be silly, Murine,” she said. Good Lord, she had enough on her plate without worrying about ghosties and goblins in the woods around the castle she was about to stay in.
If she stayed. Saidh added the thought grimly. It was not as if she had been invited. In fact, Fenella didn’t even know she was coming. But after learning that Murine’s brother, Montrose Danvries, was indeed at Sinclair to inform Murine that her father was dead and to take her to his home in England, Saidh had found herself asking if she might accompany them as far as the MacDonnell keep. Even she had been surprised by the words when they’d slid from her lips.
She’d been more surprised, though, when Montrose had agreed readily to the request. The man was an ass, selfish and dissolute. He rarely did anything that he did not gain from. But it had become quickly obvious that he had hoped to gain something after all. He’d apparently expected that she would be so grateful for his escort that she’d allow him liberties. Saidh had set him straight on that quickly with a move her brothers had taught her—she’d kneed him in the place it hurt a man worst. He hadn’t spoken to her since.
“Do ye think Laird MacDonnell’s death was an accident?” Murine asked quietly as the party started forward again.
“I do no’ ken,” Saidh said wearily. It was the question that had plagued her this entire journey.
“Do ye think someone may be murdering yer cousin’s husbands?”
Saidh glanced at Murine with surprise. “What?”
“Well, she has lost four husbands in as many years. The king’s men obviously do no’ think she killed the first three, but now there is a fourth. Mayhap someone else is doing the killing. Mayhap she has a jealous admirer who wants her fer himself and is killing her husbands.”
Saidh considered that as they rode forward. She almost hoped it was true. Because if it wasn’t . . .
The king’s men may have decided that Fenella was innocent and she could understand that. Fenella had not been alone when Laird MacIver the younger had been tossed from his mount and broken his neck. She was in fact with his family members, a perfect alibi. As for the senior Laird MacIver, he had been extremely old and might well have died from all the excitement of bedding a much younger and beautiful bride. But Saidh knew something the king’s men did not know, and that was that Fenella had definitely killed her first husband. And knowing that cast suspicion on all of the men’s deaths in Saidh’s mind. She needed to find out for herself if Fenella had had anything to do with the deaths of the Lairds MacIver senior and junior, and Laird MacDonnell. Because if she had, Saidh had saved her cousin that day at the expense of three men who otherwise would surely be alive today. Their blood would be on her hands.