Cait and the Devil
Duncan laid the belt down, schooling his face to seriousness, playing his role. He would remain the firm disciplinarian until the punishment was over, although he was as pleased as she was at the prospect of continued punishment over his lap. He loved to see her struggling to take blows in position, or tied up, but he loved more to feel her squirm and tense across his thighs.
He sat on the bed and pulled her unresisting form across his lap. If she noticed he was obscenely hard again, she was far too well trained to let it show.
He marveled at how different she felt already as he held her, that extra softness she carried. He cradled her, holding her secure with one arm across her back. He spanked her, being careful to concentrate the force on the roundest part of her bottom. He felt the delicious conflict of wanting to enjoy every minute of spanking her, and at the same time wanting to rush through in order to impale her on his cock when it was done.
In the end he did both. He didn’t dawdle, but neither did he rush. He gave her ten good, stinging spanks. Her tiny moans and wriggles drove him on.
He thought wryly to himself at the end as he pulled her up and lowered her onto his cock, that these punishments did much more than keep her safe. They did more than keep her obedient, show that he loved her...
For both of them, they did much, much more than that.
Chapter Seventeen
Duncan was at the practice field when he saw Edana ride into the courtyard. Even from his vantage point on the far rise, there was no mistaking it was her. The upright stance, the aura of power—even alone in the wild forests of Scotland, she was absolutely safe.
But not his wife.
His wife was not safe. Her time was almost upon her, and Edana showing up only magnified that fact. Cait seemed healthy and spirited enough for someone in her condition. But Lenore too had been healthy and spirited up until the last hours before she died.
He took his time making his way over to her, feeling each step bringing him closer to the end of this ordeal, his wife’s pregnancy and the inevitable birth.
“Don’t you look surly this morning,” Edana murmured. “Not happy to see your dear mother-in-law?”
“Of course I am happy to see you.”
“Only fretting about the reason I’m here.”
“All husbands fret.”
“Not all,” said the priestess. “But the best ones do. Come,” she said, holding out her hand to him. “Show me to my daughter. Let me see how well she is.”
As they walked down the corridor to Cait’s room, Edana questioned him about her recent habits and activity. “Has she been eating well? Resting? Getting fresh air?”
“Too much fresh air. She’s been gardening, walking about town, climbing blasted trees. I finally ordered her to her room a couple days ago, to preserve my own sanity.”
“It’s better that she’s active. It’s afterward that she must be made to rest. You have a nursery prepared, and nursemaids?”
“Yes, although I doubt Henna will allow anyone else to lay hands on the babe. Even me.”
Edana laughed. “You will have your chance to hold your child, I promise you. It is best if fathers stay involved.”
“Like Cait’s father?”
Edana’s smile faded. “That situation was not average. You should not pass judgment on situations you know nothing about.”
“I judge no one,” Duncan sighed. “I just want this over with. And I want Caitlyn to survive.”
“I promise you, Duncan, I do too. And I tell you again, she will give birth with ease. I am more worried about you making a nuisance of yourself and scaring your poor wife out of her wits with your dire fears.”
They stopped outside Cait’s door. Edana looked at him sternly.
“You will wipe that frown off your face and smile at her and act as if you are at ease.”
“I will not. You may visit her alone. Henna is within. I will leave these matters to the ladies, and return to the fields where I am more useful.”
Duncan stalked away. He knew he’d been rude, but he wouldn’t stay and smile and pretend total confidence when he was miserable with dread. He would smile when it was over, if things turned out all right.
And if they didn’t...well. He was not even able to think about that.
* * * * *
Edana smiled to herself as she knocked on the door. What a singular man, this Devil of Inverness. What a sentimental mess. There was only one man in a hundred who could put aside his own ego and selfishness to love a woman as he ought, and of those, fair few who loved and protected their wives perhaps even more than they should.
Lucky daughter of hers. She pushed open the door to find Cait smiling at her from the bed, surprised and pleased.
“Dearest Caitlyn,” Edana greeted her warmly. “It is almost time, is it not?”
Cait’s eyes shone with excitement. “Is it? I’ll have the baby soon?”
“Yes, you will. Does Henna not tell you as much?” She nodded to the old woman in the corner, her own face alight with excitement.
“Oh, I tell the lass every day her time is near and she must keep to bed, but she won’t,” said Henna with a blustery sigh.
Edana sat at her bedside. “Let me look at this grandchild of mine waiting to be born.”
She drew back the covers and laid her hands on Cait’s swollen belly, pressing here and there carefully. “Head down I see. That’s the best way. Does the baby feel low in your belly? Lower these last few days?”
“It feels low all the time,” said Cait. “And today, the baby presses on my back so that it aches.”
Edana smiled in approval. “It does come shortly then. Within days. Perhaps tomorrow. Perhaps even tonight.”
“Tonight?” Cait echoed. “So soon?”
“It comes when it comes. Do you want a boy or a girl?” Edana said lightly to distract her.
“I want a little girl, although I think Duncan wants a boy.”
I think Duncan will take anything so long as you withstand the birth, thought Edana to herself. “Well, if you wish to get out of bed into the fresh air, the best thing to do now is walk.”
“Walk?”
“Yes, dearest, and I’ll happily walk with you. Henna, help me pull her up.”
* * * * *
Cait felt that she was waddling more than walking, but she tried to keep up with Edana as they toured Gordon’s garden plots. Cait showed her the various plants and flowers she enjoyed tending, but she felt silly because she was sure Edana knew more of gardening than she could ever dream. Still, her mother listened and nodded in approval, taking time to congratulate Gordon on his crops. She pointed out helpful plants and flowers for use in healing and other household tasks.
“How do you know so much?” asked Cait.
“Years of training and study.” She looked down at her daughter. “You might have studied the priestessly arts too, but you were a terribly sensitive child. I felt it was not the life for you. You were so shy, so retiring. I knew early on that you did not have the guile or hardness of conscience to be high priestess after me. Do you regret it? Would you have liked to study?”
“I don’t know.” Cait shrugged. “I like being Duncan’s wife.”
“And you’ll be a mother soon as well. You are fortunate, much more fortunate than most women. Your husband loves you very much.”
“Don’t all husbands love their wives?”
Edana laughed. “Oh, you are an innocent indeed. I should say not. Some husbands at least care for their wives. Some do not even do as much as that. No, my Cait. You are one of the few to know love with the one you’re wed to.”
“Did my father love you?”
Edana blinked, but quickly composed herself.
“Well, you know, we were never wed, your father and I.”
“But did he love you? Did he care about you?”
“We...I... We were like strangers on the night you...that we...the night you were conceived. But we understood one another at once.”
“Unders
tood one another? What does that mean?”
“Do you understand your husband?” Edana asked, turning the question back on her.
“I...I suppose I do. Yes. I understand him. What he wants. What he needs.”
“I understood your father in the same way, although we were never so fortunate to find love.”
“I know I am lucky,” said Cait after a long pause. “I don’t know why he loves me so much.”
“Don’t you? It seems clear enough to me. You have given your heart to him without reservation. You have loved the Devil just as he is, flawed and rough. He is no fool. He appreciates what you give to him so freely. He had another wife who was not nearly so kind.”
“She died,” Cait said quietly.
The two women walked a bit longer in silence.
“Are you afraid?”
“Yes,” said Cait. “But I can’t say so. Duncan is worried enough.”
“Duncan will survive this birth, and so will you. I promise I will not leave your side until your healthy babe lies sleeping in your arms.”
Cait’s back ached again, and she stopped, leaning over.
“It hurts here?” Edana rubbed the exact spasming spot.
“Yes,” Cait said tightly. “It really hurts. But that feels...that feels better when you rub it that way.”
Her mother’s knowing touch somehow made the excruciating tightness bearable again.
“Do you promise? Do you promise you won’t leave me?” she whimpered through the pain.
“It would be better, perhaps,” said Edana, “if we made our way back to the keep.”
* * * * *
God, the screams. He couldn’t bear them. He paced the corridor, his men wisely keeping out of his way. There was the scream, over and over, and then the bitten off effort to stifle it. He wanted to tell her to go ahead and scream.
What he really wanted was to go back to nine months ago and leave her be, but he couldn’t. It was far too late now. Even if he could, then she would now likely be bearing his father’s child, which would have been even more impossible to take.