Night Movers

Warning! NC 17 Rape / Violence

Grisham took Prudence to the stables, pulling her up into the hayloft. She thought it was exciting and dangerous. And she was completely smitten with him.

Grisham snickered and pushed her into the hay. Then he fell on top of her and began pawing at her clothes as he kissed her neck, ears and, finally, her mouth. Prudence laughed and kissed him back - what a thrill - but then he started pulling her blouse open.

"Wait - isn't this going a little fast?"

"You should see fast," he grunted. "No, this is not fast enough."

"Oh." She was scared, but excited. "W-will it hurt?"

He kissed her, his tongue flicking in and around her mouth, and then he let go of her lips and licked her face. "Oh no, it will feel really good." His hands were still busy, never stopping, and he lifted her so he could toss her blouse away. At least she had underwear he could understand. He had plenty of practice with this stuff and didn't need any help from her.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure I'm sure." He pulled off his own shirt, and then went back to her corset, finally baring her breasts. He latched on to one immediately. This frightened Prudence, and she started to pull away, but Grisham saw heaven in sight and he bit down on her nipple to keep her from moving too suddenly. "Sorry - you need to stay still for it to feel good."

"Oh." She was trying to decide if she wanted this or not. It was going way too quickly and she was having trouble concentrating. He was now lapping at her nipple - which was sore from the bite - and she wriggled before remembering that she was not supposed to move. He changed sides, which was somewhat of a relief.

She was just beginning to settle into that when he took the front of her skirt and pulled down, ripping it. "Hey!" she complained, "I have to get back home! What will I wear?"

"It's not too bad," he panted, pushing the offending clothing out of the way. What did not come easily he tore off. "You can put it around you and run. If you're not too sore to walk, that is."

"What do you mean by that?" Prudence was suddenly upset; she was already worried, and now she was starting to get angry. This was not going the way she had expected! She started to kick him off, but her underthings were in such a state by then that she got caught up in them. He took it as she was trying to kick free of them, and he really started to shred them in his eagerness to get them off.

Pru opened her mouth to say no when he stopped and, seeing her completely naked, sighed. "Beautiful. Simply beautiful."

"Me?"

"You." He chuckled and slipped off his boots, then his trousers. She could see his arousal through his "small clothes" and it fascinated her. He thought she was beautiful, and she obviously excited him. That was heady stuff.

Once he was in his underwear, Grisham turned to her, grabbed her by the hips, and pulled. She gave a little cry as the hay scratched her back, and then she realized her legs were open on either side of him. She was naked with a man who was almost so! And her legs were wide open, her breasts exposed. There was a flutter of something in her belly she could not define. He was again lapping at her nipples, his hands sliding down her body to that place where no one but herself (and her mother, when she had changed her as a baby!) had ever touched. She didn't know whether to go on, or stop him before he went too far.

She gave a little yip and tried to pull away. He bit down on her nipple again, harder this time, and his fingers dug into the flesh of her backside. "Stop - trying - to - get- away!" he growled angrily.

"I don't think I want to do this. Let me go."

"Like hell," he said, rising up enough to pull his shorts down. She tried to get away when the pressure was lifted, and he smacked her across the face. "You wanted this, you're gonna get it. Teach you not to lead men on in bars, eh? Or," he took advantage of her being stunned by the blow to lick down her body, "to walk down the streets, looking for it from any guy who tips his hat." She started to sob as he reached her crotch, opening her wide so he could use his tongue there. A quick probe made him laugh. "Virgin huh? Not for long. And after I'm done with you, you can try it out on that other chap. Mosby was it? I'll bet he'll thank me for this." His tongue went in and out of her tight little hole, then up and around her nub.

By this time she was thrashing, but he had her too well for her to get away. She could not kick him, because he had her legs, and if she reached up to scratch him, he pushed her back with enough force to take her breath away.

"No. No, please, stop!"

"Too late," he chuckled as he moved up and, pulling her legs wide, pierced her roughly as he entered her. "Ooh, see, that *does* feel good. All nice and tight, and wet . . . Doesn't it?"

"NO!" she sobbed. "It hurts!"

"Well, not for long. And it feels GREAT on THIS side!" He thrust in viciously with each word, laughing and taunting her now that he had her.

"I'll tell everyone you raped me!"

Grisham was still thrusting deep inside her, both hands on her ass. She was wet from his tongue, and probably blood, but it did not matter to him what was making her so hot and wet. He liked the slosh and the tightness of her, and since she was still struggling, the tension was an added thrill. Not to mention the power of having subdued her. "Rape?" he laughed. "Everyone in the saloon saw you come and throw yourself at me. You'll never get anyone to believe you didn't WANT it. PLEAD for it. Oh, God, you're a TIGHT little BITCH!"

Prudence gave an anguished cry, and then went suddenly still. Grisham laughed in her ear as he continued to pound into her. But he realized she was limp, all fight gone, and he did not like that; so he slowed, then withdrew. He was right; he had torn her good and proper, and blood was streaming down her legs. How would she explain that, he wondered? Wasn't his fault, he decided; he had an alibi. The bitch came on to him in public. He just took what she offered. He'd just say she wanted it rough, then complained when he was too much of a man for her.

Yeah, he liked that.

She was just lying there, though, and he was still hard. "Get up."

"No."

Standing, he went to a horsewhip that was on the wall. Cracking it, he demanded, "I said get up."

Prudence looked at him and, gulping softly, slowly started to rise. She was not quite up when he pushed her down, then rearranged her until she was on all fours, her legs open. When she was in this position, he ran a hand across her bottom, between her cheeks and over to her other opening. "No!" she shouted, and he took the whip and shoved it under her chin.

"Now," he hissed in her ear, "you will do as I say, or you won't be a virgin anywhere. Do you understand? And if you tell anyone I forced you I will simply say you wanted it that way. Understand?" She nodded, gulping again. "Good girl. Now we'll have some real fun. Cos you're no longer a good girl, are you? Time to have a good time." He flicked his fingers over her nub until she squirmed, then laughed at her. "See, I told you. You'll learn to love it. Always said we need a whorehouse in Edan. And you can be the star attraction. Wouldn't you just love to fuck every man in town, one by one? Starting with me, of course."

"No, no," she whimpered.

"Shut up!" He told her to stay on all fours while he fondled her breasts, squeezing, sucking, and licking them to his heart's content. Lying on his back in front of her, he went from one nipple to the other, then he ran his tongue down the middle of her body to her belly, which rippled at his touch like it was ticklish, so he kept doing it. It amused him. Then he went lower, though he did not want to lick up the blood. Instead he manhandled her there, even though it made her cry and squirm because she was sore. If she made a complaint he indicated what he would do to her if she were not a good girl by rubbing up against her anus. He stood in front of her and forced her to lick her own blood from his member, and to put it in her mouth and suck. The only time she got the pressure off her arms was when he allowed her to sit back so she could use them to fondle him while he was in her mouth. She tried to bite him and he clouted her again, and it started all over.

Finally he mounted her, taking her from behind but not in the rear (it was close enough to scare her, though) and as he pumped, he cracked the whip and groaned with pleasure at the hard ride he was giving her. Prudence closed her eyes, steeled herself against the pain, and hoped he would not actually whip her. And she wanted it over. Oh, how she wanted it over.

Mercifully, it soon was. Grisham rolled off, laughing; then he kicked her and she rolled the other way. Her arms were sore from holding her weight for so long, the muscles twitching, but she refused to rub them, or anything else, while he was there.

Her tormentor yawned and stretched, grabbed his underwear and put them on, chuckling, "I'll have to throw these out, they're all bloody!" He fondled himself through the cloth and a stain spread because he had bloodied himself taking her again. Then pulled on his pants and boots. Taking his socks, shirt and hat, he leaned over, licked her hip, grabbed another feel between her legs, and said, "Next time you will enjoy it more. Less blood - more . . . other juices." He licked his lips, laughed again, and stood to go.

Prudence waited until she could no longer hear him. Then she pulled herself into a tight little ball and cried.

***

Doctor Benjamin Adams sighed as he finished taking a deep breath. Silas and Caspian were back on the loose.

He looked down the street, heard the laughter and the music from the Saloon and Cantina, and worried about the settlement across the river. Would Kronos boldly attack Edan?

Keyed up and worried, he started toward the stables. It was late, but he could not sleep. It was stifling in his room at the clinic, and having Ezzy there reminded him of the escaped horsemen. He wanted a ride to clear out the cobwebs.

Going into the darkened stables, he heard a soft sobbing. He followed the noise and was astounded to find a girl - he thought it was one of the Bride Ship women - curled up, naked and bloody, in the hay.

"Oh for . . ." He went to her, trying to see how badly she was hurt, but she just tightened up more, not wanting him to see her naked and afraid of his touch. "Trust me," he said gently, "I have seen this before. I am a doctor. Please, you need tending."

She looked up, her face pale but streaked with tears. After a good long look at the face looking back at hers, she slowly nodded.

"Not here. You need cleaning. Come with me to the clinic . . ."

"NO! Please, I don't want anyone to know."

"But you were raped!"

"I came here willingly. People at the saloon saw me go with him . . . they won't believe he raped me."

"Like hell they won't!"

"You don't understand. I don't want everyone to know . . . to know I am ruined. Even if they charged him, everyone would know. They would say I wanted it . . . my reputation . . ."

"Well, if we don't do something, you're going to bleed to death. Or get a nasty infection. Come, there must be a vacant house somewhere where I can fix you up. What's your name?"

"Prudence."

Doc tried not to smile at the irony of her name. "I'm Benjamin. Now, where are your things?"

"He ripped the skirt and petticoats but the rest is over there."

Near the horsewhip, he noticed. Though he did not see any stripes on her. Careful, this bastard. "Who was it?" Prudence shook her head stubbornly as she tried to put her skirts together enough to cover her. Doc sighed. If someone saw her leave the saloon with the guy, he'd find out who it was. He'd just have to be discreet about his inquiries.

She was in pain, and it was difficult getting her down from the loft, but he managed to transport her to a nearby empty house. After starting a fire, he put some water on to boil, and then told her to wait while he got a few things. He made a stop at the clinic for antibiotic cream and a local, thread and needles, and some clean bandages. Then he carefully slipped into the Mercantile and grabbed a skirt that he thought would fit. When he got back the water was boiling. He had her lie on the bed while he apologized for the humiliation but he had to examine what the brute had done. She seemed numb to it, and offered no resistance at all. In fact, she was so complacent it worried him.

After she was stitched up and he gave her directions how to keep it from getting infected ("Baths. No soap in the water. Tell your sister you are hot and want to cool off in the clear water."), he asked, "Did he do more than just take you sexually?"

"If you mean, did he . . . no, but he said he was going to."

It took a minute for him to realize what she meant. "No, I would have discovered that in the exam. Did he abuse you in a way that was not purely physical? Did he say anything . . ?" Seeing her sudden flush, he pushed a little harder than he might have otherwise to get a response, and she finally broke down and told him all the things Grisham had said.

"But I won't be working in a whore house," she insisted. "It was dreadful! I shall never do that again as long as I live!"

Doc sighed as he reached out to hold her. She resisted a moment before relaxing in his arms. He had promised not to tell anyone, he had made the pain go away, and he was not treating her like she was diseased, even knowing all that had happened. She felt she could trust him. "Listen. What he did was terrible. It does not usually feel like that - at least I hope not. I've been on both sides of this - or more if it has more than two sides. I've been a rapist, I have been raped . . ."

"How can a man be raped?"

"Trust me. They can."

Prudence chewed on that a while, saying nothing as he went on.

"And I have known women who have been raped, like you, and I have treated them. I have waited for the pain to leave them, not just in body, but also in mind. And I have helped one or two find pleasure in the act again. This was an act of violence, not one of love, and that's what it should be. Or at least, great affection." He smiled at the last. If he could get her to do it, he would love to have her speak to Katherine.

Prudence shook her head. "I went looking for it, and I got what I asked for."

"Stop that," he said crossly, but mildly, like you scold a child. "You were not to blame, he was." And once I learn who it is, he will curse this day. His thoughts made him smile and he softened his voice, "How could you know he would do this to you? Perhaps you were looking for sex, but that was not sex, Prudence. It was an assault. Sex is far different."

"Are you sure?"

He remembered Sarah Jo's first time, and his smile widened. "Positive." Just as Prudence did not want everyone to know she was no longer a virgin, so Sarah Jo deserved his silence until she chose to reveal her new status. So, he did not elaborate. "I'm nearly five thousand years old, child. I know a few things. I've seen nearly everything."

Her eyes were wide. "Dear Mother Mary!" she gasped. "I can't get used to the long lives of you people!"

"And with me, you can't tell me from the other doctors, without a name plastered to my forehead," he laughed. "Though I daresay Dr. Helm and the others also know how to deflower a virgin without said maiden needing minor surgery afterward."

"I like the way Dr. Helm looks at me. Like I am a respectable Lady. He won't do that ever again, will he."

"Well, he won't hear it from me. For him to learn you are no longer virginal, he will have to find out for himself, from personal experience." Prudence's face colored, and he smiled, because he knew she was giving it some thought. And that was an improvement on a just few moments before. He raised her chin. "And if you ever want to know how it should be done, after you are properly healed, I can promise you not only a good time, but a discreet one as well."

She looked at him and seemed to be considering it. Hell, Sarah Jo would probably be trying MacLeod out, too. If he could save this one from becoming a nun, then it would be worth it.

And he did seem to be attracted to redheads lately!

When she was ready, he helped her to her feet, and into the new skirt. Then, because it was still difficult to walk, he got her to her door safely. Prudence kissed him lightly, in thanks for all his assistance, and he turned to walk down the street. A stranger was standing outside the Saloon, and Doc, seeing him, knew he had seen him help Prudence home.

"I am a doctor," he explained, not waiting for an introduction. "The young lady twisted her ankle."

"Was that what it was," said Mosby. "Last ah saw of her, she was goin' off with a Captain Grisham."

Doc eyed Mosby closely. "Perhaps she was walking with the Captain and tripped."

"Perhaps." Mosby looked him right in the eye and Doc knew he was not buying it.

"Perhaps the Captain should have been more careful when walking with a Lady."

"Definitely," said Mosby heatedly.

"Benjamin Adams," Doc said, offering his hand.

"Francis Clay Mosby. You may call me Clay." He shook the hand. "If there is anything Ah can do . . ."

"I might just take you up on that, Clay. We need to keep this . . . between ourselves."

"Understood."

Doc nodded, then bid his new friend goodbye. One dark night, Grisham would pay.

***

Giles went to his room, the ring from Guinevere still in his hand. Was Amanda right? Or was she just being sweet. He put the ring on the table and went to the big four-poster bed, where the contents of his saddlebags were laid out. He had brought a change of clothing for the trip, and he noticed what had been used to come here had been cleaned and folded neatly on the bed. It was quite a change of pace for a bachelor.

He changed into fresh boxers and put the rest of his clothes away. He would have to get the saddlebags back in the morning; there was no reason to stay, really, and he should be getting back. Going to the balcony in his room, he stepped out, still in his boxers; no one could see him up that high and there was a railing. It just looked like he was bare-chested.

He found a chill still in the air, and actually enjoyed it for some time before going back inside. Edan was hotter than Hades already, though the nights were soft and warm, but not stifling.

When he went back in, moving casually even in his state of undress, he saw someone in his room and instinctively covered himself with his hands. She was not facing him, but he knew only too well whose blonde hair that was. "L-Lady Melissa," he breathed, then coughed to right his voice and added, "are you feeling poorly? Do you need a doctor? I was just going to bed, you must forgive me."

She turned to him, saw him half dressed, and smiled. "No, the baby is quite well, than you."

"Although I suppose you half wish it weren't?" he asked miserably.

"No," said Melissa sweetly. "It is my child, too."

"But it might look like him."

She stood and came toward him. She was wearing a golden robe that almost clashed with the corn silk of her hair. "Then it will also look like you."

"Don't remind me."

She was almost up to him now. Gently she lifted his chin and looked into his eyes. "Do you not like the way you look?"

"I never had any problem with it before. Could always pull the birds . . . I mean, get girls to like me. I never knew it would actually hinder my cause, though. Especially . . ." He stopped, flushing.

"Especially what?"

"Especially when it means so much to me." He stopped, amazed he had said that. It was like he had looked into her sweet face and been forced to say what was on his mind, what was in his heart.

"Why does it mean so much?" she asked softly.

He could not stop looking at her mouth as it moved. He wanted to kiss her so badly his body ached. "Because I love you."

Before he could react to this statement - which he had also not meant to make - she smiled and said, "And I you."

Giles gaped at her like a fish, his hands falling away from their frontal protection position to lie limply by his sides. But as she leaned even closer to him, he instinctively raised them and she came into the circle they created. Finally he gasped, "Me?"

She smiled. "You. Why, are you not lovable? You said you used to 'pull the birds'."

"Yes but . . . But I look like him."

"And should your heart be judged on the fact that you look like someone else?"

Giles was suddenly suspicious. "You always did before. What's changed? I mean, bloody hell! Earlier today I was being told to bugger off!"

Melissa went to sit on the bed. She tapped a place next to him and Giles felt a lump form in his throat. On his bed?

"Two things happened. One, I saw a woman put her arms around your neck, and it disturbed me. I did not know why it did, until I spoke to my Lady Guinevere."

"Guinevere?"

"She told me you had reminded her that not all men were beasts and rapists; that your healing touch was so gentle it helped her get over the shock of what they had tried to do to her."

"She was lucky."

"You never tried to hurt me," Melissa went on. "You may look like him, but you are not him. Not at all."

Giles smiled at last. He could not argue with that. "I am so glad you feel that way."

She smiled back. "And I can pretend, I suppose, that the child is yours, not his. Though all will know, I think they might let us have our folly?"

"Us?"

"You love me, and I love you. Isn't that how it is done?"

"Yes, but . . ." He stood suddenly and went to the table where he had left the ring. Coming back, he took her hand. "Lady Melissa, would you wear this?"

She smiled, and he noticed she had dimples. "Yes, Doctor, I will." He put the ring on her finger, then, in an almost symbolic move, he took her in his arms and kissed her.

Never had Giles experienced anything like that kiss! It was as sweet as honey! He kissed her again, and again . . . and then had to tear himself away. "I believe," he panted, "it is time for you to return to your chambers."

She pouted. "You want me to leave?"

"No, of course not. But if you stay, I will not be able to control myself."

She paused, biting her lip thoughtfully. "And would you hurt me?"

"Of course not! But. . . you're not ready for what I want to give you."

She seemed to consider it. "I want to be with you. But you might be right. There is something else I need to tell you."

"Anything. We shouldn't have any secrets."

"Do you have secrets?"

"Me?" He laughed nervously. "I'm not nearly as good at football as I think I am?"

She laughed, too, though in reality she had no idea what 'football' was. He nearly sighed at the sound of her laughter. It had almost a buzz to it - or it made him buzz, which was almost the same thing.

"Mine is rather dark and dirty, I am afraid."

"You? Dirty? Never."

She ignored this polite flippancy to say, "He was not what you think he was."

"He didn't take you prisoner and make you his slave?"

"Yes, yes of course he did. But he knows no other life. He was . . . trying to find love in a very difficult society structure. He did try to make me happy - as much as he was able - but it was repugnant to me because I was in bondage, and to actually feel pleasure was perverse."

It was starting to dawn on him. "So sex with him was not painfully vicious?" She flushed, averted her eyes, and shook her head. "But you had been sodomized . . ."

"By Kronos," she said. "When he killed my master to get me for the exchange, he had me submit to him first. I am sorry to say that has made me rather squeamish about the very nice men who live here."

"Can't say I blame you," Giles said, thinking how painful it must be to get it up the arse. "But you enjoyed it with . . . with him?"

"He forced me to enjoy it, which I guess is my trouble now. It repulses me to think I found pleasure in it, but he would not stop until . . . until . . ."

He took her into his arms and held her. "I would like you to enjoy it when we make love," he said honestly, "but I will not force you. It should be because you want to feel it, not because you are made to feel it."

She smiled, leaned up, and kissed him. Again, he felt he could never stop. But she gently disengaged herself, and he let go instantly. She went to the head of the bed and said, "Can you hold me tonight? And if it is right, we will go further?"

Giles gnawed on the inside of his lip. Could he do this? He would have to. He had to prove himself to her. Yes, he would have to.

***

He woke the next morning with her in his arms. He was surprised he had been such a good boy, but when it is real you know it, and you go a little further to prove it. They would take it slow, she would be his, and the child would be brought up as his own. They had made plans and not love last night, but that was good, too.

The next morning they went to Arthur and Guinevere and asked if Giles could come to Camelot to be the resident doctor. He might have to wait until Gideon was stabilized, but they all agreed it would be for the best. He and Melissa would wed when he returned for good, though between now and then he would try to get out as often as possible for a night here and there, so they might work out their other issues before the wedding night. "If not, though," she said, because she was worried about Gideon's health, "we will make love anyway."

"Not if you are not ready!"

"I might not be ready to have pleasure, but I will give myself to you, my husband to be!"

He fairly glowed over that one.

So, after one more night together, Giles mounted up his horse, and started back to Edan.

***

Temperance was still not sure she was doing the right thing. But they had made plans, and though Prudence, the instigator, had been strangely quiet the past few days - she said she was having a difficult menses, and her sister concurred that she did not want to get out of bed, bathed often and the water was bloody, and she found bloody rags like her sister was having her monthlies - the women had managed to get Temperance a long black coat to put over her simple but almost sheer cotton night dress.

Now as she got into the coat, she checked one more time to see if the coast was clear. She didn't want anyone seeing her go next door to McBain's. It was rather late - had to be, for them to be sure he was asleep - and she hoped no one was about at this ungodly hour.

McBain was sleeping on his side. Fortunately for Temperance, he was facing away from the doorway, so she came into his room, trying to be as silent as possible, and stripped off the long coat as she watched him sleep. It was still warm, though not as hot as it was during the day, and the minister was wearing just a light blanket over his lower body. Temperance wondered what he had on under the blanket; his upper body was bare and had a light layer of sweat glistening on it. She was very sweaty, having worn the heavy coat, and a sudden breeze, coming through his window, felt good on her body. She stood for another minute, glad he had not stirred much when she'd moved, and slowly reached up to pull the ribbon that held her nightdress closed.

McBain was facing the window. Temperance walked toward it, pulled the garment over her head, and stood in its breeze for a moment. The night was cooling. She took a deep breath, prayed she would not start coughing, and then made her move toward the bed.

As she did, McBain rolled over onto his other side, so he was still facing away. Temperance was getting cold feet - and everything else, though she thought that was a combination of nerves, the open window, and very little in the way of covering! She had to be crazy to do this! The room was dark and she was sure she could get back out without anyone seeing her . . .

But she was already moving forward, onto the bed, and he felt her weight. Turning again, he reached for the intruder and pulled her close, thinking someone was about to attack him in his sleep. Instead, he found he was holding a very naked Temperance McPherson!

Shocked into his more native accent, he began object, but she knew she could not let him speak much. He would want to reason with her. She had to see what he would do if she somehow got past his defense of logic. So, her heart beating so wildly in her chest she thought it would burst, she grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him deeply.

McBain struggled for a moment, then moaned softly as he leaned into her kiss. His hands came around her slim body and he held her to him; she was still on the other side of the blanket but she could tell he was reacting to it. Now, the question was, would he stop?

He was making a sort of yummy sounding moan, kissing her deeply and with all apparent passion. But they had to come up for air eventually, and when they did, he asked, "Why, Temperance?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Ye dinnae hae t'gang to these extremes, woman."

"Dinnae I?"

He laughed softly and said, "Ye mus' needs gang. Before someone sees your guid self in me bedroom, dressed thus!"

"But that's the point, glaikit lad!"

His eyebrow rose at this. "You want to put your reputation in jeopardy?"

"I want you to see that I love you, ye foolish mon. And I need to know if you feel the same."

He looked into her eyes and his hand strayed just a bit, before he pulled it back to the relative "safety" of her lower back. "I do."

"Then what is to stop us?"

"You know quite well. The Bible says this is for a man and his wife, not for casual enjoyment."

"Then we'll be man and wife. Or would that not please you? Wa' ye nae want bairns, Walter? We were giv'n a new start here, an' shouldn't we take what God gives?"

"Then we should wait. Until we can be proper married. But who to do the service proper, with me the only minister in the land?"

"Father Alec is a guid mon," said Temperance. "He will do the service as we want it, I'm sure . . ."

"Quickly. Tomorrow morn. To save your reputation."

She smiled. "Aye." Snuggling closer in his arms, she said, "I am getting a wee chill, though, Walter. Should I dress an' go, or will you let me under that blanket of yours?"

He seemed to be considering it. "It must wait for after marriage."

"First thing tomorrow, we'll sneak off to Father Alec. God will give us tonight."

"Will He?"

She turned to him and, taking his face in hers, she looked into his eyes and asked, "Do ye love me, Walter McBain? Nae as a Minister, but as a Man?"

"Aye," he said without hesitation. "I believe I always have, my darling Temperance McPherson."

"Then where's the sin in that? We will not know of each other until we are wed, but we shall share the night in each other's arms, and show our love. Aye?"

A smile slowly crossed his face. "Aye," he whispered, then lifted the blanket so she could come under it. He was wearing under shorts. Amazingly, though she was shivering from the cold, and he had to get up to both get her nightdress, and to shut the window, he thought her skin was surprisingly hot.