"Aye." Dougall smiled. "Ye play?"
Murine nodded. "Me father and I used to play of a night."
Smiling at this news, Dougall moved to a chest under the stairs and knelt to open it. A moment later he was returning to the table with a chessboard and a bag that it turned out held finely carved chess pieces. Leaving Murine to admire the little carved men, Dougall quickly fetched them both more cider and then returned to help her set up the board. Within moments they were deep in the game.
"Did yer mother play chess?"
Murine glanced up with surprise at that question from Dougall, but then shook her head and turned her gaze back to the board as he made his move. "Nay. She never cared for the game."
"Hmm." Dougall sat back to wait for her to take her turn.
As she moved her rook out, Murine asked. "Did your mother? Play chess, I mean?"
"Aye." Dougall smiled. "We have two boards and used to hold little competitions, four playing, and then two playing the winners and so on."
Murine smiled at the thought, imagining Saidh, Dougall and his brothers all much younger, playing chess with their parents. Frowning, she glanced up and asked, "Saidh has never talked much about yer mother. How old were ye when she died?"
"She only died four or so years ago," he said quietly.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I--"
"Lass," he interrupted gently. "It's been four years. The loss of her still hurts, but she was a good mother and deserves to be remembered and talked about."
"Oh," Murine breathed, thinking that was possibly the wisest, most wonderful thing she'd ever heard. Clearing her throat, she changed the subject somewhat by asking something she'd been curious about since Alick had offered her Rory's tincture and explained that he was the healer in the family. "Did Rory tend yer mother when she fell ill?"
"Nay, Saidh did," Dougall said solemnly, and then grimaced and added, "Not that there was a lot o' time to tend her. And Saidh didn't really ken how to help her. None of us did."
"Not even Rory?"
"Rory?" He looked surprised at the question and then shook his head. "Up until then Rory had no interest in healing. But he was close to our mother, and took her loss hard. Her death is what turned his interests that way." He frowned at the memory. "We sent for all the best-known healers. None of them kenned what to do. In the end we all just stood by and watched her die. All of us feeling helpless and useless." He shifted as if shrugging away the unhappy memory, and then said, "I suspect Rory took up learning about healing so that he need never feel that way again."
"I see," Murine murmured and stifled a yawn behind her hand.
Dougall smiled faintly and added, "Rory's a bit of a man possessed when he's interested in something. He spent the better part of two and a half years traveling all over England and Scotland to learn from the best healers. Now people send for him when there is a tricky case or injury."
Murine smiled faintly at Dougall's pride in his brother and watched him make his next move. Fighting off another yawn that tried to overtake her, she asked, "Did your father fall at the same time?"
"Nay." Dougall's expression closed up, and his words were a little curt when he said, "He died in battle."
"I'm sorry," Murine murmured, making her own move and shifting her bishop. Apparently the father's death was still too raw for him to discuss as he could his mother's.
"'Tis all right," Dougall muttered and huffed out a little sigh before saying, "Our da died in the same battle that scarred Aulay."
"Oh," she said with understanding, and she did understand. Saidh had told her that Aulay was terribly self-conscious about the scar that halved his face. She supposed, that being the case, he would hardly welcome his brothers talking about their father and the battle that had taken his life as well as Aulay's good looks and self-confidence. Dougall verified her thoughts as he took his next move.
"Aulay has struggled with his scar since that battle. He does no' like to talk about it and we all honor his wishes rather than make him . . ."
"Miserable?" she suggested gently when he paused.
"Aye," he admitted. "Talking about it puts him in a foul mood for days, so we all just don't talk about it. Check," he added with a slow smile before adding, "And mate I think."
Murine glanced down to the board with a start, her eyes widening as she saw that it was, indeed, checkmate.
"Ye're a good player," Dougall complimented.
Murine grinned at the claim and shook her head. "Good to beat."
"I had an unfair advantage, ye're tired," he said apologetically. "Ye started yawning halfway in."
She opened her mouth to protest, but had to stop to cover it as another yawn stretched her jaws. Once the yawn had ended, she grimaced and said, "Aye. Fine. I'll sleep. But only fer an hour or so. Then I'll let ye beat me at chess again. Or we could play nine men's morris if ye have the game."
"We do," he assured her, and then teased, "And I'll look forward to trouncing ye at that too."
Murine scowled at him for the comment. She'd half expected him to scoop her up and carry her to the bed when he stood. Since he hadn't, however, and didn't appear to be intending to, she slid her legs over the bench and stood up. She then glanced down with surprise as her bindings unwound and dropped onto her feet.
Dougall cursed softly and then grimaced. "I never finished with yer bindings."
It wasn't really a question, so Murine didn't bother to agree. He'd stopped before doing anything to ensure the end remained in place. In fact, she wasn't sure they'd been at the end of the bandage when he'd dropped it to cover her breasts. That thought had a decided
ly warming effect on Murine as she recalled the feel of his hands on her excited flesh.
Dougall glanced to the binding and then the bed, but shook his head as if in answer to a question before announcing, "'Tis best I bind ye here at the table. There is something I need talk to ye about."
Murine's eyebrows rose slightly as she wondered what one had to do with the other. He could talk to her while binding her on the bed too. Or perhaps the bed was too tempting for him to risk it, she thought suddenly. Murine didn't ask if that were the case, however, but glanced down at the gown she wore. He would either have to lift it up, or lower it to her waist to replace the wrapping. And while he'd already seen her breasts and bottom, he hadn't seen her front below the waist and she wasn't ready to bare it to him so cavalierly, so when he bent to pick up the binding, she quickly shrugged her shoulders out of her gown and let it drop to rest at her waist, held there by her hips and one hand.
Dougall straightened and then froze as he saw what she'd done. His eyes widened, and then glazed over slightly as he stared at her naked chest. It was not a dissimilar reaction to the one he'd had the first time he'd seen her breasts, but this time Murine was not in the same state she had been then. This time, she was actually a bit uncomfortable and embarrassed. At least she was until Dougall suddenly dropped to his knees, caught her by the waist and drew her forward so that he could latch on to one of the nipples she'd bared.
Murine bit down on her lower lip and caught at his shoulders as he began to suckle, her body immediately responding to the caress. Both of her nipples were promptly hard pebbles on her chest, she saw as he released the first breast to pay attention to the second one.
It was all a tad abrupt and even overwhelming. He had not primed her with kisses, and Murine found herself longing for those kisses even as she moaned over what he was doing.
When Dougall's hands left her waist to cover both cheeks of her bottom and squeeze eagerly, her gown slipped down to drape over his hands, the front dropping below her belly button. He couldn't have possibly seen that from his position at her breasts, and yet the moment it did, his mouth started a heated trail down her belly and then paused at her hip before he ran his tongue along the line of skin just above the cloth of her gown.