Having never been one to sleep for long hours or late into the day, Brian was not surprised as he awoke to darkness. It was this way most mornings in fact, and normally he would have simply begun his day. Perhaps going for a refreshing ride. Maybe getting an early start with checking on the families in the village. Possibly even stopping in for a quick visit with the old woman, Deborah. She always seemed to cut through the fat and tell him exactly what he needed, though not necessarily wanted, to hear. But today, he only wanted to lie there and work to keep his thoughts from strangling him as they had been since the previous night.

He sighed as he felt Lindsay shift at his side. In the flickering light of the dying fire, he could vaguely make out the contours of her face. He didn't need to be reminded of how beautiful she was though. He had so often dreamed of that face, so strong and determined, yet delicate and soft at the same time. After their first meeting, she had become something of a reoccurring dream for him. A constant nuisance and a hidden joy. He had envisioned them making a family. She would raise their children and he would fulfill his duty as laird...or lord as it were. They would live a simple life and it had been a simple plan. A dream that should have been rather effortless to mold into a reality. Still...he hadn't counted on the small kink that had recently thrown his near-perfect world into small chaos.

Since he had been old enough to know the difference between making love and having one's physical needs met, he had put the knowledge to good use. He would use any readily available and at least moderately appealing body to give him some release and that would be that. No matter if it were the stable master's daughter or the blacksmith's son. If they were ready, willing and able, he felt no qualms about using this to his advantage.

Even after marrying Lindsay, he had, of course, needed to find another bed during certain times when she would need privacy. He didn't know, or particularly care, if she was aware of this. It was simply a fact of life, that a wife should accept this without question. The only snare in this way of thinking came when he tried to make sense of his new physical interest in his enemy's son and his wife's dearest childhood friend.

So Justin was one of his men? One of his best men. Yet he had wanted the young man from the moment he had rested eyes upon him, running full tilt away from a group of screaming children. Laughing and yelling merrily, as though he were still a child himself, and not a man hardened from the fight. He, as was expected, had taken up the role of protective husband for Lindsay's sake, but seeing the infamous Justin Winterberry with his own eyes had been quite a shock.

But if that had been a shock, then seeing the beautiful boy standing boldly and brashly upon a boulder just before he plunged into the crystal clear water of the pond, had been a very stunning revelation. The sharp mind, courage, loyalty and kindness made up a considerably fine package. Only the sight of seeing the slight body, outlined and covered only by the golden tones of fading sun and the blue hues of the rising moon had made Brian yearn for the man with an intensity that he had never felt before that time.

But after that night, as Justin had run from him, he had sworn not to give chase. Not to take things any farther. It would only mean borrowing trouble. Trouble that none of them needed.

So the question remained. What in hell had happened the night before? He remembered speaking with Benjamin after the evening meal. His friend had been informing him about the day's progress in training several of the younger men. When Justin had approached, the air around him had seemed to crackle with brilliant energy and sparkling lights. Benjamin had thankfully excused himself before Brian had taken the opportunity to half-drag the blonde boy to the woods.

Dragged him to the woods and ravished him! Acting little better than a damned animal! He thought, half in self-disgust and half in pride.

It had been amazing. And the younger man had responded in kind, showing an equal passion and a reciprocal enjoyment in their coming together. He had even taken the time to prepare the boy before taking him completely. Something he had never done before, with anyone. Not that he was cruel, he had simply never held any real regard for his past...distractions.

He just could not figure out what came over him when it came to the boy. He had never felt so little control with anyone. It was a dangerous feeling, to be sure. One that he wasn't too eager to experience again. Yet...he did want to. He ached to abandon himself in the recesses of young Justin's tight body. In the supple skin and the full lips. Oh, what the lad could do with his mouth, Brian still had yet to uncover. But there was little doubt in his mind that it would be quite worth just one more trip to the stream. Just one more, he assured himself, and he would think no more of the boy and what harm the situation could bring about.

***

Lindsay waited until she felt Brian's weight shift upon the bed. Waited until she heard him moving about. Waiting for the tell-tale sounds that he was leaving. Only then did she move. The man had woken her hours before with his grunts and groans. He was pleasuring himself and since it seemed that he hadn't needed her for the task, she had feigned sleep.

Now that he was gone, she could think once more.

Leda would be there within the hour and would be loud and distracting. Lindsay was almost positive that this was because she detested waking so early. If she had to be awake then the rest of the holding had bloody well be as well. So she had to make this quick.

She had been pondering a course of action for days. How to go about it. How to get around other...obstacles. Finally she had known what she needed to do.

Brian was seeking other bed mates. That much was obvious, since she had gone unsatisfied for nearly a week. So she wasn't overly worried about his feelings in the matter. Melanie, though...Melanie could very well get hurt in all of this. But at that moment, Lindsay was feeling little good will for her maid. Very much the opposite. She had, in Lindsay's mind, become the rival.

Lindsay pushed the thick linens away from her and slid from the bed. She pulled a footstool beside the large chest in the corner. She opened it and began sifting through the contents. There were old tunics, a bit of the McKinnon tartan that she had been made to wear at their small wedding celebration, and underneath the fabrics she located what she had been looking for.

It was a strip of dried skin, rolled tightly and sealed. She fingered the ribbon that bound the scroll and bit her lip, not quite sure if she wanted to open it. To see what she had refused to see so many years ago. But she had to. It was no longer a question really. It was more a need for the courage to complete the act.

Holding her breath, she broke the seal on the material and unrolled it quickly. The air was quickly expelled from her lungs and she felt tears come into her eyes. There it was before her. The thing she had avoided for years. The knowledge of a fledgling love gone unfulfilled. The proof that Justin had seen something more in her than a playmate and mentor. It was a simple enough rendering. The lines had blurred a bit over time but it was unmistakably her. Her naked form lounging upon the bank of the small river that they had once claimed as their own.

She was sure that he had never seen her naked. Perhaps he had watched her bathe once upon a time. In hindsight it didn't seem to matter. Her pride could certainly withstand the idea of the younger man spying on her. It actually made her heart leap to picture him, creeping through the brush to catch a glimpse of her. And she had rebuffed his advances time and time again. Certainly, if there had been no fighting. If there hadn't been the asinine deal struck to marry her off to the arrogant highlander. If she hadn't been so foolish and blind, perhaps she and Justin would have been so much more.

As it were, she was married and he now saw her as his past. But Lindsay wasn't quite so sure that feelings where put off so easily. Could he still feel something for her?

Vowing not to think too deeply on the possible consequences, she pulled out a peacock feather quill that had been a gift from her mother, and a piece of parchment and began drafting a letter that would surely change everything.

***

Justin awoke the next morning to the sound of Brian speaking to his Grandmother in hushed tones so as not to wake him. Somehow the gesture moved him. Though he admitted that it was possibly he simply hadn't wanted to see Justin and avoided waking him for that purpose. But his heart, beating loudly in his chest, was telling him not to be so silly.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stumbled about the room, working to pull his shirt over his head. When he had finally dressed, he joined the two, just in time to see Brian finishing a bowl of something or other.

"Good morning, Sunshine," his Grandmother smiled up at him. "We were just speaking about you."

"Were you?" Justin smiled inwardly, careful not to let the simpleton's grin show upon his face.

"I was just telling your grandmother how invaluable you are to the men," Brian spoke, looking directly into his eyes. Justin had to stop himself from moving towards Brian.

"I am honored by your compliment, my lord."

Brian nodded and gave him a tight half smile, even as amusement shown in his eyes. He could easily see the effect his presence was having on Justin and it infuriated the younger man that he did feel so overpowered in the man's company.

After a few more minutes of idle chatting, Brian stood and bowed to the family. "Thank you for the meal, madam."

"It was my - our pleasure," she grinned and bowed to him. Justin, who had stood as soon as Brian had moved to leave, bowed as well, though his eyes never left the man's face.

"I bid you good day then. Young Justin, I shall see you within the hour."

"Yes sir." The two nodded and Brian was gone.

Minutes later, Justin began readying himself for the day. He pulled his boots on as well as his vest. He slipped his dagger into the sheath at his waist. His sword went into the one at his hip. As he was about to start up the hill towards the training grounds, his eyes lit upon a small bejeweled dagger, embedded in the wood of the small cottage's door. Held up beneath it was a roll of parchment.

Cautiously, Justin retrieved the small knife and unrolled the paper to see a finely printed letter.

My dearest Justin,

Do forgive me for being so forward, alas I can no longer ignore my own feelings. Please meet me beside the pond this evening. Upon the banks that we know so well. We desperately need to talk. I shall count the hours.

Justin's mouth dropped open and he stood there staring blankly at the words. Reading them over and over. Not quite willing to allow himself to believe that McKinnon wanted to meet him. And yet, his head cried YES!

And he knew he would go. He had to go. Because, whenever Brian McKinnon would call...he knew he would answer. It was no longer his decision. He was in far too deep now and they had gone too far to turn back.

Tucking the letter and the small dagger into his boot, he began once again towards the main holdings and prepared himself for the longest day of his life.

To Be Continued...