CHAPTER EIGHT - REVELATIONS

Sometimes, when Abby sat in her chair by the fire and thought about the last few weeks, it seemed as though she was living someone else's life. Up until now she had been sleeping through her existence, playing her roles of wife and mother that she knew so well she didn't have to think about them. Living quietly, in her tower of stone, lonely, and slowly dying, losing a little more hope every day. Then Kane had arrived in her life like a sudden storm, turning everything upside down. Now she had given her body, and most of her heart and mind, to Kane, and she had a servant who knew everything about her whether she liked it or not, and Raven, about whom she knew next to nothing, and yet had liked instantly. He was clever and resourceful, and made her laugh. Abby could see why Kane liked him so much, and trusted him to protect her. Going from having no one to talk to, to having three people in her confidence was difficult to adjust to when she had been so used to keeping everything inside. It made her feel vulnerable, as though she were made of glass, and everyone could see through her into the depths of her soul.

Abby felt especially vulnerable today because Alasdair was due home. She hadn't heard from him personally since Kane had robbed him so audaciously, but she had heard through Raven's sources that he was apoplectic when he woke to find his room had been turned over and all his money had been stolen. He had locked Blake and Sinclair in the dungeon for two days because he blamed them for the robbery, and now, four days after the event, he was on his way home, no longer trusting of the security of their summer residence. Abby had been waiting all morning for his return. She was so restless and on edge that she was struggling to sit still. She wanted to saddle Juno and ride until she was too exhausted to think any more. She did not dare leave the tower, however, for Alasdair was certain to want to see her when he arrived. She could stand to sit alone with her thoughts no longer, so she went down to the barmkin to see Raven, who was housed in a hayloft above the stable. There was no room in the tower for him, and he didn't want to lodge in the village as it was too far from Abby, so this was the best she could do for him.

Juno was standing quietly in the stable munching hay when Abby walked in. Abby stroked her nose, gave her an apple she had taken from the kitchen on her way out. "Hello, My Lady. How are you enjoying your new companion?" The horse ignored her, as she usually did. Abby began climbing the wooden ladder that led to the hay loft.

"Raven? Are you here?"

There was a scuffling noise from the loft and Raven's voice sounded, more high-pitched than usual.

"I'm here, Mistress. Just a moment."

Abby was used to having every room in her house open to her, and all servants at her beck and call, so it didn't cross her mind that Raven was telling her not to come in, and she continued climbing the ladder until she could poke her head up over the top and see into the loft. It was gloomy as the only light came from below, but as her eyes adjusted she could see that Raven was naked from the waist up except for a large white bandage which he was quickly tying around his chest.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Raven. Are you hurt?"

Raven kept his back to Abby. "It is nothing."

"Then why do you have a bandage around your chest? Let me see. Perhaps I can help you."

Abby climbed over the top of the ladder and walked over to Raven who was still turned away, holding the bandage tight around him.

"I don't need yer help. I'm fine."

The boy had a quiver in his voice and Abby was deeply concerned. What was so wrong that he didn't want her to see it? If he had a bad wound, she could help.

"Turn around, Raven, let me see you."

The boy turned slowly to face Abby. He looked her in the eye, his gaze seeming almost defiant as he dropped his hands so that Abby could unwind the bandage. When she pulled the final piece of cloth away, there was no wound, but she couldn't make sense of what she was seeing. Raven had breasts, not the fatty breasts men like her husband had when they were overweight, but female breasts, beautiful and pert with nipples the colour of earth. Abby stared at them, couldn't take her eyes off them, they were so unexpected. Eventually, Raven crossed her arms in front of her so that they were hidden from view.

"I'm not a freak, ye know."

"I'm sorry. I know. No, I don't know. You have breasts, Raven, but you're a man!" Abby had many questions but was unable to articulate any of them.

Raven gave a half-sigh, half-laugh. "Kane said ye were intelligent, but I'm not so sure. I'm no a man, Mistress. I'm a woman."

"You're a woman?"

Raven nodded. "Aye. These are all real, do ye wannae feel em?"

Abby shook her head, although she was tempted, because she still couldn't quite believe what her eyes, and Raven's words, were telling her.

"So, you're really a woman, but you pretend to be a man?"

"Ye win the prize, My Lady." Raven bent down to pick up her shirt and pulled it on, not bothering with the bandages which still lay in a heap where Abby had dropped them.

"Does Kane know about this?"

"Aye. He does. He's always known."

Kane knew Raven was a woman, and still he had put her in charge of protecting Abby. He must have a lot of faith in this young girl.

"Why do you do it?"

Raven sat on one of the hay bales and patted the one opposite her. "Why don't ye sit down, before ye fall down."

Abby sat down opposite Raven, studying her while the girl talked. Now that she knew the truth, it seemed impossible that she had not guessed before. She had huge dark eyes with long lashes and a full mouth that was soft and shaped like a bow. Her cheekbones were well-defined and feminine. It was the confidence she exuded and the cheeky grin that gave her the boyishness. She was cocky, like Kane, and unlike any woman Abby had ever met.

"Ye asked why I do it, but I think ye know why. It's impossible to be a woman in this society and have a brain. Well, ye can have a good brain but ye can't use it, so what's the point? I can't be constrained; I need to fly free."

Abby understood what Raven was saying all too well. She had felt the same things all her life, but it had never occurred to her that her life could be different. Was that a mistake? Had she been too passive in accepting her lot in life?

"It's different for a peasant like me than for a lady like thee," said Raven, who had clearly sensed Abby's state of mind. "Ye are helpless, if ye don't mind me saying it. Bound to yer father, and yer husband, no way to earn yer own income, set up by yerself. I had that freedom at least. Once I became a man, it were easy. I have a lot of skills."

"It must be so difficult for you, living among all those men in the Hundred clan?"

"Oh, aye. Ye dinnae want me to tell ye the stories I've got, Mistress. They'll curl yer toes." Raven laughed. "Kane protects me, as best he can." She smiled as she said his name, her eyes lighting up.

"You are fond of him?"

"He saved me."

Abby was about to ask how Kane had saved Raven when there was the clatter of many hooves out in the barmkin.

"The Master is returned," said Abby, her heart beating fast, her stomach churning. "You had better stay here for now. I don't want him to know about you yet."

Raven caught her arm as she was about to leave.

"Be careful. He knows it was Kane who robbed him. I mean, he has no proof, but he knows anyway."

Abby nodded and descended the ladder, heart in mouth.

Alasdair was exiting the carriage as Abby left the stable. It was the first time she had seen him since she and Kane had begun laying together and guilt overwhelmed her, making her flush from head to toe. She didn't want him to look at her, certain that he would sense the difference that she felt must be obvious to everyone. She had forgotten, though, that no one in her household ever really looked at her, especially her husband. She was an ornament that was passed over, until it was brought out and polished so that it shone for one night only and then was put back on the shelf to gather dust until the next time.

Alasdair barely glanced in her direction before heading into the tower. Sinclair was tight-lipped as he passed but he nodded at her. Blake had his head down but she could see the ghost of a smile on his face. Abby wanted to laugh; not because she found the situation funny, quite the opposite. She was so nervous a cold sweat was breaking out on her skin. She followed the men into the tower and up to the second floor where Alasdair conducted his business. In a corner of the large room was a wooden desk, made of oak and with the legs carved into griffin heads. In front of it was an assortment of other chairs, the whole arrangement designed to ensure Alasdair remained the head of any discussions at all times.

Alasdair took his seat behind the desk and Sinclair sat in front of him, with Blake standing discretely behind. Abby wasn't sure what to do; no one had spoken to her yet.

"Shall I arrange something to eat and drink for you, Alasdair?"

Her husband looked up, surprise on his face as though he was completely unaware that she was in the room.

"No. Blake can do it. I want to speak with you. Take a seat."

Blake left to inform the kitchen and Abby sat in the chair next to Sinclair. She had thought Alasdair would be angry, but he seemed calm. Too calm. She tried to take deep breaths to calm herself without Alasdair noticing she was doing so. It was not easy to do. He leaned back in his chair, appraising her.

"Where were you when I returned?"

"I was in the stable, with Juno."

"You spend too much time with that bloody horse."

Abby didn't answer. Her riding had long been an annoyance to Alasdair; she had learned it was wisest to keep quiet. She didn't want him to take Juno away from her. That horse was her freedom, and Abby loved her.

"You have heard what happened in Duns?"

Abby nodded. "I was sorry for your loss, Alasdair."

"It is our loss. No money means fewer dresses for you."

He spoke as though that was all Abby wanted or needed from life, beautiful dresses that she rarely got to wear to any gathering or party. She would be happier in a peasant dress; at least she could breathe and move in one of those.

"There will have to be sacrifices made," he continued.

"Of course," she replied, wondering what she had of any value that she could possibly give up.

"No more visits to the market unless I instruct it. You spent far too much money there the other week."

"Clarke was here. I wished to spoil her, that is all."

"Clarke is spoiled enough. What can she possibly need with more clothes and a portrait?"

Abby glanced at Sinclair, who flicked his eyes towards her without moving his head. So, Sinclair had told Alasdair the portrait was of Clarke or was for her? Why would he do that? To spare her even more of Alasdair's wrath perhaps. It was an unexpected kindness and it made Abby swallow hard as emotions bubbled within her. Blake returned at that moment, followed by servants with platters of cold meats and pies, and Abby was spared having to answer Alasdair.

Alasdair began eating. He indicated to Abby that she should take some food herself but she couldn't stomach it, was afraid it would get stuck in her throat she was so constricted with nerves.

"Perhaps I should leave you to your meal. I am certain you have much to discuss with Sinclair." She started to rise from her chair but Alasdair waved her back down.

"No. I have not finished with you yet."

Abby sat back down, lacing her fingers together so she would not fidget with them.

Alasdair continued. "You know who was responsible for the raid, don't you?"

"I do not, Alasdair. I have heard very little about it." How easy lies came once you had something to hide, thought Abby. She had always been a straightforward person, used to hiding her feelings of course, but she couldn't remember a time when she'd ever had to lie as she was now doing. It was shocking how little she had to think about it; the words just came out.

"It was that reiver, Marcus Kane."

"We have no proof of that, Sir," said Sinclair.

"I don't need bloody proof, Sinclair. It was the same method as that raid in Newcastle and everyone knows those bandits were responsible."

"We cannot take the case to the Sheriff without proof that it was Kane."

"I have no intention of making a case to the Sheriff. I'm going to hunt him down like the wolf he claims to be. He'll be dead before the Sheriff even hears about it."

Abby watched the exchange between the two men, her heart racing with the vehemence of Alasdair's words. Sinclair was also lying, she knew, because Raven had told her how close Kane had come to being captured. What a web they were all entangled in, each of them caught on different threads, unaware for the moment that they were all connected. How long would it be before Alasdair tugged on the right thread and the whole thing unravelled?

"Sir, I merely wish ye to be careful. The Hundred clan is powerful and ruthless. They will protect him."

"They won't be able to protect him if I take the whole sorry lot of them down. As for you." He turned his gaze on Abby. "I don't want you out on the hills anymore. He's already had you once, and you may not be much but I wouldn't put it past him to try again just to get at me."

Abby's stomach turned over at his words. She couldn't allow this to happen, but how was she to change his mind without betraying herself?

"Alasdair, I must venture out occasionally. If we are short of money then the herbs and plants I find will be necessary. What would your venison stew be without the juniper? Blake could accompany me, then I would be safe."

Alasdair shook his head. "Blake is needed with me. I must be at Edinburgh a lot in the coming weeks and I can't have him coming and going between here and there."

Blake coughed. "Sir, if I may. There is a new groomsman recently hired. He is most competent. My Lady could be entrusted to his care."

Alasdair turned to Sinclair. "Is this man competent, Sinclair?"

Abby's heart was in her mouth because she was certain Sinclair had no idea that a new groomsman had been hired. The gap between Alasdair's question and Sinclair's answer seemed to Abby to stretch further than the most distant star, and into eternity.

"Ahem. Yes, Sir, I believe he is most trustworthy."

Alasdair sighed extravagantly as though he was about to do Abby an enormous favour, which he was, although not as great a favour as he realised.

"Very well, then. You may leave only if you are accompanied by this groomsman, and stay close to the tower. No more riding to that bloody loch; I don't care if that's where the juniper is. Find it somewhere closer to home."

"I will. Thank you, Alasdair."

"Leave me. All of you."

Abby's relief was huge, leaving her feeling light as air as she left the room with Blake and Sinclair. Not being able to visit the loch was a disappointment but anything was better than being imprisoned in the tower never being able to see Kane again. Meeting closer to home involved greater risk, though. She would have to be extra careful, even with Raven's help.

"A word, My Lady." As they descended the stairs, Sinclair took her by the arm and steered her into a small mezzanine room between the second and first floors.

"Has something happened while I have been away?" he asked.

"What do you mean? Nothing has happened."

"There is a change in the air in this place. I cannot put my finger on what it is, but I don't like it, My Lady. I believe Kane is targeting His Lordship and ye may be in danger. Who is this groomsman and why have I heard nothing about him?"

"I am not privy to the hiring of the servants as you know, Sinclair. I have heard he came with good references, and I have felt secure in his presence so far."

Sinclair picked at one of his teeth with his thumb as he contemplated her words.

"I am not happy about any of this. It gives me a bad feeling. The Master is right to be concerned about ye riding out on the hills. It is too dangerous."

"If you are so concerned why did you approve the groomsman when you did not know about him? A word from you would have been all Alasdair needed to prevent me from leaving the tower."

"Aye, and that's why I kept quiet. I may not like it, but I dinnae want thee cooped up in here the rest of yer life. It's not right."

"Thank you, Sinclair."

"You can thank me by keeping out of trouble. Stay close to the tower and if ye ever see that Grey Wolf Kane make sure ye run as far as possible and tell me about it."

"I will."

Sinclair left and Abby went up to her chamber, every step on the narrow winding staircase increasing her guilt. After her conversation, if that's what you could call it, with Alasdair she was far less worried about betraying him than she was about Sinclair. The Head Guard only had her safety at heart, and his motives were true. Abby did not like that she was deceiving him with every thought she had. Alasdair had said she was not worth much, and he had said it so often that she had come to believe it. But there were people who did think she had value, and not just Kane, but Raven and Blake and Sinclair. All of them were helping her in their own ways.

As she entered her room, Raven was waiting for her.

"I need you to get a message to Kane. He must find somewhere closer to Arkholm for us to meet, for I can no longer visit the loch."

"I will go and see him tonight. When do ye want to meet?"

"As soon as is possible."

The girl nodded and left, and Abby sank into her chair by the fire. Something deep within her was starting to change; she could feel it in her stomach, like butterflies emerging from their chrysalides, flapping their damp gossamer wings in the sun. Her husband did not deserve her guilt so she was not going to waste it on him a moment longer. Kane had warned her not to be reckless, but that was how she felt. All of this could be taken away from her and she didn't care; the only fear she had was that she would take other people down with her, and that was the only thing keeping her from doing something foolish and rash.

It was Raven, in the end, who found a new place for Kane and Abby to meet, and she and Abby were heading out there now, nearly a week after Alasdair's return from their summer house. Abby hadn't wanted to seem too eager to leave the tower, and Raven had said Kane was busy working on a project with the Heid of his clan, Jaha, so it had been eight days in total since they had last seen each other. It was probably just as well it had been that long, because Abby had been so angry with Kane after their conversation on the rock. Her scars were her story, and he had turned them into his by heading off to attack Alasdair, ignoring her wishes, leaving her helpless again. Her anger had subsided as the days went on, but she Was determined to discuss it with him. Riding roughshod over her was what Alasdair did; she wasn't going to let Kane get away with doing the same.

The place they were headed was in the Lammermuir Hills, only seven miles from Arkholm and in the opposite direction to the loch and Abby's usual hunting grounds. They reached the edge of a cliff and Raven stopped.

"We're here," she said as she dismounted.

Abby looked around; there was nothing except hillside behind her, the edge of the cliff, and the view across the plains of Roxburghshire in front. She could see the River Tweed shimmering in the distance, and the twin Eildon hills rising majestically out of the flat landscape, and beyond them, to England.

"We are?"

"Aye. Trust me."

"Is Kane here? I don't see his horse."

"He'll be here, dinnae worry."

Abby dismounted, and Raven tethered Juno to a tree. Then she walked behind the tree and disappeared. Abby followed, and noticed a narrow path leading down the side of the cliff. It was impossible to see if you didn't know it was there. She picked her way down the path, careful of her footing on the loose sandstone. After a couple of minute's walking the path ended where it widened out to a grassy shelf with a large sandstone overhang above it. There was an opening in the rock beneath the overhang; it didn't stretch far enough back to be a true cave, more like a shelter. Kane was sitting on a rock a little way inside the shelter. He stood up as they approached, and smiled. Abby smiled back, her heart lifting at the sight of him, all thoughts of being angry with him banished for the time being. She wanted to run into his arms, but Raven was there, so she stood a short distance away, trying to keep her impulses in check. Raven had no such qualms and walked right up to Kane, giving him a quick hug.

"How are things at camp?"

"Same as always. Jaha left for France two days ago and we're not expecting his return for a sevenday at least. Murphy is missing thee."

Raven punched Kane's arm. "I bet he is."

Kane laughed. "He has noticed ye are missing. I won't repeat what he said in front of a Lady." He smiled at Abby as he said this. "I'm sure ye can guess."

"Aye. How long do ye think it will be before he starts asking the serious questions?"

"Not long. Ye'll have tae show yer face for a couple of days soon, otherwise he will start to get nosey."

Abby watched as Kane and Raven talked. It was strange to see him with another person, laughing and joking. Apart from when they first met and the time Blake saw him at the loch, Abby had only seen Kane alone. She thought of him as hers, forgot he had a life outside of their meetings, had people he clearly loved and cared for, and who cared for him. She felt a pang of jealousy at the ease with which Raven talked to him, borne of a long-held friendship. It made Abby feel insignificant, a fleeting presence in his life. They barely knew each other.

Raven was making some joke about Murphy but Kane was looking at Abby, watching her think, and she hoped he couldn't guess what was going through her mind.

"Never let it be said that the Raven outstayed her welcome," said Raven, looking at Kane and then Abby, and shaking her head, smiling. "I'll leave the two of ye alone."

She gave Kane a kiss on the cheek. "I'm going tae hunt out some mosses that will be good for an experiment I have in mind. I'll take yer horse, Abby, so no one will know ye're here. I won't be far, though, if ye need me."

Kane nodded. "I thank thee, Raven."

Abby smiled at Raven but didn't speak. It was embarrassing to think that this girl knew what she and Kane were probably going to do once she had left. Raven clearly wasn't bothered by the thought, but Abby was mortified.

Raven left but Abby didn't move, just stood looking at Kane, feeling awkward.

"Are ye going to stand there all day or are ye going tae come here and kiss me?"

She crossed the floor, then, propelled by her need to be in his arms, to smell him, touch him, be one with him. He slung his arm round the back of her neck again, bringing her in so that she was flat against him, her breasts crushed against his chest, his growing hardness pulsing against her groin. Their kiss was open-mouthed and wet, tongues chasing each other, teeth clashing. Desire was burning within her. She could recognise its signs now, the throbbing in her sex, the wetness gathering there. She pressed herself harder against him and he moaned.

"Abby! Oh, I've missed thee, I've missed thee."

His lips trailed down her neck to her throat, his hands pulled her skirt up, fingers finding her wetness, stroking her, making her gasp. She hadn't wanted to do this first, she wanted to speak to him, to talk, but now those thoughts were gone, obliterated by this overwhelming need to be with him, to have him inside her. She lifted his kilt, took his cock in her hand, stroked it like he had shown her. Kane groaned, thrusting himself into her hand, so she made a fist, squeezed him tight as he did. He walked her backwards, still stroking her, until her back hit the wall of the cave, then he lifted her leg, wrapping it round his back, and she guided him inside her. She let out a loud moan as he filled her, shocking herself that she could make such a noise. His thrusts were powerful, driving into her, pushing her back against the cold wall. She put her hands on his chest to steady herself. He undid the ties on her bodice, fingers a blur as he ripped the laces from their eyeholes. When her breasts sprung free he buried his face in them, kissing the swell of them, sucking her nipples. The stimulation was overwhelming. Heat was building within her, even though he wasn't hitting that sweet spot as he had last time. Nevertheless, every thrust he made brought more heat to her sex, made her pulse and throb. She slipped her hand down to touch herself as he had that day under the tree. She was hard there, like he was, only smaller and slippery. She made those same little circles and oh, it didn't take long before the feeling came again, hot, so hot, and spreading out along all her limbs, making her throb all over. Her muscles weakened and Kane had to catch her before she buckled.

He smiled at her. "That felt like a good one, Abby. Ye'd better lie down before ye fall."

Abby was unable to speak; she could hardly catch her breath, let alone utter a word.

Kane laid her on the floor and braced himself above her before entering her again, sliding in long and deep. Abby lay back, her heart pounding, limbs shaking, and watched him as he moved within her. His eyes were closed, his dark hair damp with sweat; he frowned as he made one final thrust, deep, deep within and then rolled off her, panting.

They lay next to each other, breathing loudly, sweaty limbs touching. Abby realised with a shock that she hadn't said a word to him since she had arrived. She propped herself up on one elbow so she could look at him.

"Hello," she said.

"Hello to thee." Kane reached up, brushed some loose hairs from her face, kissed her softly.

"I wasn't expecting that."

"Ye weren't?" Kane laughed. "It's all I've been thinking about this last sevenday."

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Ah. Just as well we laid together first, then. My cock might not be up to it after ye've finished with me."

Abby laughed. "Perhaps you are right."

Kane sat up, pulled his kilt down to cover his manhood, which was softer now, and still, resting against his thigh. Abby pulled the ties of her bodice back together enough to make herself look more decent.

"Let's go into the fresh air." Kane stood up and held his hand out to Abby to help her stand. He led her to the grass verge outside the shelter and sat down with his legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Abby sat next to him and looked out over the view. The land was still green even though the harvest had been taken in and winter was coming. From up here she couldn't see where Scotland ended and England began. Everything looked so peaceful it was hard to imagine how bitterly the land was fought over, how many people had died on the moors and in the fields in the name of their Laird, or their country.

Abby played with the grass next to her, plucking blades out, letting them fly in the breeze. It was difficult to find her anger again now that she was next to him, her body still aching from his touch. She had to, though, had to stand up to him otherwise this relationship, or whatever it was, was no better than her marriage. "I was so worried last week. I didn't know what you were going to do."

"I was careful, Abby. The risks were small."

"Were they? Alasdair brought me before him, asked me if I knew who was responsible. He knows it was you. He thinks you are targeting him, that you will hurt me again. That's why he has banished me from the loch."

"That was never my intention." Kane looked sheepish. It was endearing, but Abby was determined to stay firm.

"No, but you were so bent on hurting him, you didn't listen to me, didn't care what I wanted. That makes you little better than him, Kane."

Kane looked wounded at her remark. "I am nothing like him."

"I said that it was history to me. I told you I had learned to live with it, that I didn't want you to do anything to Alasdair, didn't need that from you, but you did it anyway. Having no regard for me, treating me as though I am not there, and do not matter, is what he does. How is what you did different?"

"Ye are right, and I am sorry. My anger blinded me. I could think of nothing else."

"I know your intentions were good, but you acted to make you feel better, not me."

Kane nodded. "It won't happen again, unless he hurts thee, then I cannot be held back, Abby."

"He won't hurt me again."

"He'd better not."

Kane took her hand in his and they lay quietly for a while, looking up at the sky. Abby couldn't stop thinking about Kane and Alasdair, imagining what would happen if her lover and her husband met again. There wasn't a single scenario she could think of that didn't end with disaster.

"Did you see Alasdair, when you were at the house?"

"Aye. It was all I could do to keep from strangling him. The thought of him touching thee makes my blood cold."

"He doesn't very often. He has his mistresses in the village. He says they're better than me."

"Better than thee! That's not possible."

"You are being kind, but he is right. I did not know then what I know now."

"Abby. Ye are a wonderful lover, and a quick study. It seems to me it is him who doesn't know what he's doing, or doesn't care."

"Perhaps."

"'Tis true. What about yer first husband, Jacob? How were things with him?"

"We were young, and we didn't know what we were doing."

"Ye must have done something right, ye got with Clarke."

Abby laughed. "That's true. We didn't get a lot of practice in, though. He was away on his father's business a lot, and after Clarke was born, well, he became ill, and that side of our life wasn't important."

"Aye, I'm sorry about that. He was a good man."

"You knew him? I thought you were from Dumfries. That's a long way from here."

"I knew of him. My father did business with the Griffin clan sometimes, over in Edinburgh. I didn't take much notice at the time, but my father had respect for him, wished I was more like him."

"You were not a dutiful son?"

Kane laughed. "Not at all! I only wanted to have fun. As second son I had no responsibilities, and I was determined to keep it that way."

Abby studied him. It was not difficult to see the young man he had been. His hair was windswept and messy; he looked like he had just been roused from bed. His eyes were bright, and smiling. He always looked amused, as though life was an entertainment, a mummer's play put on for him.

"Do ye like what ye see?"

Abby looked away, embarrassed. "Kane!"

"I am serious. Tell me."

"I do. Very much."

"What do ye like?"

"You want me to tell you what I like about you?"

"Aye."

Abby took a deep breath. Everything with this man was a challenge, pushing at the edges of her, breaking through the walls she had constructed over the years.

"I like your eyes. They are kind, and warm, and they smile a lot. They make me smile."

"Hmm. Kind eyes. That is all?" His voice was teasing, eyes twinkling with amusement, a lop-sided grin on his face.

"Stop it!"

"What? I am not doing anything."

"You are! I can't do this if you are looking at me like that."

"Then I will not look at thee. I will close my eyes." He lay back on the grass, put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes. "Pray continue."

She shifted so that she was closer to him, away from the edge of the cliff. "I like your nose. It is not quite straight, which gives it a charm." She reached out to touch his face, her fingers tracing the line of his nose as she spoke.

Kane sighed. "Keep going."

"Your beard. It suits you, makes you look wiser than you really are."

Kane opened one eye, looked at her. Abby smiled. "I like how it feels against my skin," she continued, stroking his beard, "rough, like the heather. It brings me to life." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, the hairs of his beard pricking her lips like tiny pine needles.

"And then there is your mouth." She kissed his lips, a brief caress, and he stretched towards her, wanting more, but she pulled away. "It is cheeky, and knows the right words to say."

"But kissable," Kane murmured.

"Very," replied Abby, kissing him again, a feather kiss, lighter than air.

Then she undid the ties on his shirt, slowly, as he had done to her, and pushed the shirt up to expose his chest. His sword wound was healing, leaving a small scar no longer than her finger, still a livid purple and hard to the touch. She traced it with gentle fingers, before kissing it.

"Your chest is your strength. It bears your wounds, protects your heart." She kissed his nipples, sucking them. Kane brought a hand round to caress the back of her head, fingers entangling in her hair. He groaned, pressing her harder to him.

"Abby. I can't take any more. Come and kiss me."

Abby worked her way up to his mouth, kissing the edges of it, sucking on his lips, not letting his tongue in yet no matter how hard he tried.

"Ye are killing me," he said, his hands busy behind her, undoing the buttons on her dress, peeling it down until she was naked against him. They lay side by side, arms wrapped around each other. Kane still had his kilt on, but she could feel his hardness between her legs. Then he flipped her onto her back so suddenly she gasped. She thought he was going to enter her his need seemed so great, but he began kissing her, as she had done him, slowly, working his way down her body, hands followed by mouth, and teeth, nipping and sucking at her skin. She thought he would stop at her belly but he went lower, until his mouth was dangerously close to her sex. She put her hand on his head to stop him.

"Kane? What are you doing?"

He was kissing the mound above her entrance. "I'm tasting thee."

"What? No. Not down there. You can't."

Abby was mortified. Surely he wasn't going to kiss her there, between her legs, not in such a private, personal part of her? But he was. She tried to keep her legs closed, but he parted them, gently but firmly, and before she could protest, his tongue raked up the length of her and it felt as though her heart stopped beating. His tongue was warm, and wet, and firm, and his beard rubbed against her soft flesh, bringing a fire to it. He licked and sucked the hard nub at the top of her opening, putting pressure on it and Abby's body convulsed, a pulse of pleasure running through her. This was nothing like when he touched her with his fingers. There was something about the warmth of his breath on her, the length of his tongue, its roughness, that was making her fall apart from within.

"I love the way ye smell, the way ye taste," said Kane, his voice vibrating against her skin. "Like the ocean breeze, carrying a hint of the sea."

A surge of desire flowed through Abby at his words. She had thought it must be unclean to kiss someone there but Kane was licking and sucking at her as though he were at a banquet of the finest delicacies, where each one required savouring in case it was never tasted again. She lay back and gave herself over to the feelings he was building up inside her. She was white hot, and the more he concentrated his tongue on one part of her, the hotter she became, and this time the heat was radiating throughout her body. When the feeling came over her again, it was like being hit by a burning arrow, intense, and spreading its fire rapidly through her nerves, into every muscle. Her body jerked beneath Kane's tongue, and he lapped at her gently as she came back to herself.

"What did you do?" she asked breathlessly.

He didn't answer, just smiled and kissed her, and she could smell herself on his breath, taste herself on his lips, earth and sea. What this man was doing to her, the things he was showing her were overwhelming at times. Abby could barely think clearly. Kane entered her while she was still throbbing and pulsing.

"Oh, Abby," he said.

"What is it?"

"When ye squeeze me like this, it is like heaven."

"What do you mean?"

"Squeeze your muscles, inside, as I move forward in thee."

Abby tried to do what he asked, making herself tight around his cock. Kane groaned loudly in her ear. "That's it. Ye are so good, Abby, ye feel so good." He finished quickly, after just a few thrusts inside her.

Afterwards they lay next to each other, limbs entwined, breaths slowing as they relaxed.

"We are not very careful, Abby, are we?" said Kane. "We get carried away. We should take more care."

Abby turned to look at him. "I don't understand what you mean."

"I mean, we don't take precaution, against thee getting with child. I should withdraw, before I come, but I can't. I have to be inside thee when it happens."

"There cannot be a baby. I told you that. There would have been one by now."

"It is possible, though. Ye had Clarke."

"Yes, but she took a while to take, and her birth was difficult. The medic said there might not be another, and there hasn't been."

"Well, I am sorry about that, for thee, but also glad, because we will be doing this many more times, I am sure."

Abby smiled. She sat up so she could put her dress back on, as the day was getting long, and colder. There was something on her belly, where Kane had been kissing her earlier.

"You left a mark on me." She pointed to a bruise that was deep red and purple at the edges.

"Oh. I'm sorry, Abby. I didn't realise I had done that," said Kane, running his fingers over the mark, but he didn't look sorry to Abby. He looked pleased with himself, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "He doesn't look at thee there, does he?"

Abby shook her head. "He barely lifts my skirts."

Kane nodded, as though satisfied. "It will fade."

Abby touched the mark. It wasn't sore, just stood out bright against her pale skin. She had no doubt Kane had made it on purpose, to claim her, she supposed, mark her as his, as though every fibre of her being didn't already belong to him. Abby couldn't decide if his action was arrogant, or showed a lack of confidence in her feelings for him. Did he not understand how much of her he had, how deeply she burned for him? He looked so happy, sitting next to her, that she didn't take the conversation any further, but she was intrigued by it, more than angry. It must bother Kane that she went back to her husband after their meetings, on the rare occasions he was home at least, so he had marked his territory, like the wolf he was. Abby smiled. It was endearing, in its own way.

"What are ye smiling at?"

Abby stretched and yawned. "Nothing, are you hungry? I'm starving."

"I'm always hungry for thee."

Abby groaned at his terrible joke. "I mean for food. I brought some pies."

"The blaeberry again?"

"No, these are game pies. Pheasant in the main."

"I haven't had meat in a long time, other than what ye gave me when I was injured."

"You do look thinner than when we first met. Are you not eating properly? I can bring you supplies."

"Enough for all my men?"

"Well, no."

"Then I cannae take it. I cannae eat well while they do not. I will eat what ye bring for the day, but nothing more."

"I understand." Abby went into the cave to get her pouch and Kane followed. She admired his strength of character, although she thought it misguided. If his men had the opportunity to eat more she suspected they would, but Kane was a leader, and one who led by example.

She searched in her pouch for the food she had brought. As she did so, an object fell out and rolled across the floor. Kane picked it up.

"What is this?"

Abby looked at the object. It was a piece of rolled-up parchment. "I am not certain. Oh." She realised what it was just as Kane started to unroll it. "Don't look at it."

"Why not? Have ye been writing a ballad about me?"

"No, it is not a ballad."

"Oh, Abby." Kane had unrolled the paper and was looking at it. It was the portrait of her that the woodcutter had made some weeks previously. It must have sat in her pouch all that time, forgotten. "It is a good likeness."

"Thank you."

"He has caught the flare of yer nose, and yer cheekbones, sharp as the mountain tops. So much strength in yer face, Abby, and yet yer eyes are soft, and yer mouth."

Kane traced the contours of her face on the portrait as he described her. "Ye look sad."

"I was embarrassed."

Kane looked up at her. "Why? Ye are beautiful."

Abby shrugged.

"May I keep this?" continued Kane.

"If you wish."

"I do." He rolled the portrait up and put it in his own pouch. "Now I can see thee whenever I like."

Abby reached up to kiss him, a gentle kiss of thanks but Kane held her tight to him.

"Don't start again, Kane," she said with a laugh.

"Why not?" he said, peppering her face with delicate kisses. "And when are ye going to start calling me Marcus?"

"Marcus?"

"Aye, it's my name."

"I know, but nobody calls you Marcus."

"Aye. And nobody calls thee Abby. They are our names, just for us."

When he kissed her again, she kissed him back, and they sank to the floor, all thoughts of food instantly forgotten.