“Ye’re the bonniest bride I’ve ever seen,” said Thora as she stared at Enya, holding her hands in hers with tears in her eyes. Enya didn’t think she had ever looked so moved before, so emotional.
“Ach, ye havenae seen many brides,” said Enya, waving her off dismissively, but Thora shook her head, fresh tears running down her cheeks.
“Ye’re still the best one.”
Enya smiled, pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek before she took a look at her reflection in the looking-glass. She wore a deep blue dress to match her eyes, trimmed with gold, and had a cloak to match with fur around the collar. Though the worst of the winter had passed, it was still cold, and she knew the celebrations would last several days, taking place inside and out of the castle.
There had already been a hunt, and this one had gone much better than the last, though Enya had refused to participate this time. After all, she couldn’t stomach the thought of killing any creature and the last time she had tried, she had lost that bet with Cillian. Surely, if she tried to participate, he would find another way to frustrate her, just to see her squirm.
They still bickered. Enya had quickly discovered that after they had returned from that cottage and the battle that had almost torn them apart. Once they had fallen back into a routine, the bickering had resumed, only this time, it was about silly things and it always led them to bed within a matter of hours.
“Are ye ready?” Thora asked and Enya wasn’t certain what her true answer would be. Would she ever be ready for this? Marrying Cillian seemed like such an important moment that the more she thought about it, the more she began to believe she wasn’t ready for it, but at the same time, she had never wanted anything more in her life. She longed to be his wife, to belong to him and have him belong to her fully, and until the ceremony was over, she knew she wouldn’t rest.
It still didn’t stop her heart from drumming in her chest, beating so fast she feared it would burst right out of her.
“Aye,” she said after a moment of hesitation. “Let us go.”
Though all the MacLeods had gathered in MacDonald Castle for the wedding, her siblings were in the drawing room, waiting for her, giving her and Thora a few moments together. It was there they headed first, and when the doors opened to let Enya in, all her siblings turned to look at her with matching smiles on their faces.
It was Domhnall who spoke first, standing from the couch to walk over to her and grab her by the shoulders, his eyes—the same blue they all shared—looking at her from head to toe.
“Ye look just like maither,” he said and Enya had to swallow around the knot that suddenly formed in her throat. It was bittersweet, hearing those words. On the one hand, she was glad to resemble their mother, having something of her, even if it was simply her appearance. She had been the one to inherit her gift, too, as their mother was a healer like her, but she had never thought they looked that much alike, perhaps because everyone always remarked on how similar she and Thora looked. On the other hand, it reminded her that neither their mother nor their father was there that day to watch her wed the love of her life.
She missed them both terribly. It was like a constant ache in her chest, one she could never rid herself of. She had to live with it for the rest of her days, knowing it would only intensify whenever they were mentioned, but then again, it was true for all of them. They had all lost their parents and her siblings ached as much as she did.
“We are all already late,” Magnus said, the second oldest after Domhnall and always the responsible one when it came to keeping appointments. He stood and offered his arm to his wife, Ciara, who took it with a smile, patting his shoulder placatingly. “I’d say it’s time tae go.”
“Have ye tried enjoyin’ yerself fer once?” Kai asked from where he was sprawled over one of the couches, taking up its entire length.
“I am enjoyin’ meself just fine without bein’ late, I can assure ye,” said Magnus with a roll of his eyes. “If yer idea o’ a good time is bein’ late, then ye are the one with the issue.”
“Alright!” said Domhnall, clapping his hands together and effectively ending Kai’s teasing, as well as Magnus’ response. Enya couldn’t help but wonder when Magnus would stop taking the bait every time Kai teased him, but judging by the fact that they had been like this ever since Kai was old enough to talk, she doubted it would ever happen. “Magnus is right. Let us head out.”
With that, he too offered his arm to his wife, Katherine, who pushed herself off the couch with a little difficulty, as she had now truly started to show. With everything that had happened, Enya had lost count of the weeks, but now that she was looking at Katherine, it was obvious she was far along in her pregnancy, and Enya couldn’t wait to meet the baby.
Their entourage made their way to the chapel. The ground was no longer frosted or slippery, but there had been a recent storm which had left it covered in mud, and Enya held onto Kai as they walked down the path. Once at the chapel, she took a moment to breathe, but she hardly had the time before Kai pushed her inside and she was suddenly face to face with Cillian, who looked just as pale and anxious as she felt—at least until their gazes met and all the anxiety seemed to melt off him, his lips stretching into a joyous smile.
It was in that instant that Enya knew she was, in fact, ready.
When she approached Cillian, he took her hand and laced their fingers together, bringing it to his lips to press a tender kiss to her knuckles. There was no time for them to exchange any words before the ceremony began, and when it was finished, Enya felt as though she was in a dream, time slipping right through her fingers. It was all done before she could even realize it was over, and by the time she and Cillian were in the great hall, surrounded by their friends and family, Enya was dazed, barely remembering any of it.
“It’s truly done,” she said as the servants brought out the first course. The wine and the ale flowed freely in the room, the roasted meats from the hunt rested heavy on the tables, and the servants had outdone themselves with the decorations, to the point where Enya could hardly recognize the room. She had no words; only a sense of complete satisfaction and joy.
“It is,” Cillian said as he looked at her over the rim of his cup. “Is it what ye imagined?”
“An’ more,” Enya said with a smile, leaning in for a kiss. She couldn’t have asked for anything else, but then again, she would have been perfectly happy marrying Cillian without any of this fanfare. All that mattered to her was that they were together, and that her family was there to share in their joy.
As the day progressed, Enya spent her time receiving gifts and congratulations, and by the time most of them had already passed by their table, she had forgotten every single name and face of those she had met that day. Cillian didn’t seem to be in any better condition, looking a little weary, but soon, Enya knew, they would get to be alone.
Around them, the feast was still going strong, everyone dancing and drinking and enjoying the celebrations. Most of all, it seemed, Kai, who was even rowdier than usual. When Cillian nudged Enya, pointing to her brother, she found him with a servant girl in his lap, laughing. Even so, his eyes were strained and something about his expression told Enya he was not as merry as he wanted people to think.
“Dae I have tae warn me servants?” Cillian asked, but there was no real concern behind his words, only a slight tease. “Ye’re braither’s a handsome lad… he’ll get many o’ them intae trouble.”
Enya couldn’t really understand his behavior, and she doubted any of their siblings did, either. It was true that Kai had always been a little raffish and popular with the ladies, but such a blatant display of a disregard for what was proper was odd even for him.
“There is somethin’ wrong with him,” Enya said.
“Ach, he’s just a lad,” said Cillian dismissively. “He’s only enjoyin’ himself.”
“Nay,” said Enya. “I can tell there is somethin’ wrong.”
Cillian looked at her with some concern then, eyes narrowing. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“Aye,” said Enya. “He seems… sad, almost.”
Cillian looked back at Kai and Enya knew he couldn’t see what she could. He only saw a young man enjoying himself, but Enya knew him better, she could understand that something was bothering him, but she didn’t know how to ask him what it was. Close as they were, Kai still avoided talking about his feelings, closing himself off behind a mask of careless joy and indifference, even as Enya suspected he felt more strongly than anyone else in the family. Perhaps it came with his powers, she thought. The ability to manipulate people’s thoughts and emotions was bound to take a toll on him.
This was not the time or the place to have such a conversation. Enya had to corner him, and she had to do it while he was sober if she wanted to get anything out of him.
Still, throughout the night, she observed him every now and then, taking the time to watch as his gaze drifted from whoever he was speaking to back to Ava. His eyes kept searching for her in the crowd, and Enya began to suspect why he was acting the way he was.
There was talk of Ava getting married. She had told Enya so herself, revealing that her father thought it was the right time and that he could get a good alliance out of it. Kai had been there to hear the news and ever since, something inside him had changed.
Enya didn’t have time to dwell on it, and soon after her realization, Cillian grabbed her hand and began to drag her away. At first, she was about to protest and point out that they couldn’t leave in the middle of the feast, but she soon saw that no one was paying them any mind. They were all already inebriated, too busy dancing or chatting or still drinking to notice when she and Cillian were gone.
They didn’t get too far. Cillian was too impatient, pawing at her in a way that made Enya laugh, as though he could hardly control himself. He, too, had had plenty of wine that night, and his dark hair was mussed, strands of it standing all over the place, making him look like an overeager puppy. They had barely made it to a secluded corner near the great hall before he pressed her against the wall, stealing a heated kiss.
“Lady MacDonald,” he said, his words just a little slurred. “I like the sound o’ that.”
Enya laughed once more, tilting her head to the side when Cillian began to scatter kisses all over her neck. She, too, had had more than enough to drink, and that only served to intensify her lust, heat travelling down her body as Cillian dragged his lips over the sensitive skin of her neck before tracing the same path with his tongue.
“So dae I,” said Enya, one hand coming up to curl around the back of Cillian’s neck. “Let us go tae our chambers.”
“But they’re so far away,” Cillian said almost petulantly. “I want ye now.”
“Ye have me,” Enya said, pressing her forehead against Cillian’s. That seemed to soften his urgency, and he smiled, letting his eyes fall shut.
“I have ye,” he said, arms snaking around her waist to pull her close. “An’ I’m never lettin’ ye go.”
The cèilidh that followed the wedding was a raucous affair. Ivy found herself alongside Liam, surrounded by her new family and a multitude of well-wishers. Together, they laughingly drank the traditional dram of whisky each from the ceremonial quaich, the two-handed cup that signified the bonding of their two clans.
Then, the quaich was passed around for all to take a drink, and Liam paid the piper his traditional dram, upon which the man began to play, and the party began in earnest.
“Ye look amazing, wife,” Liam whispered in her ear, holding her tightly in his arms as he whirled her once again up the column of whooping, clapping couples in a traditional country reel. Next to them were Odhrán and Maddison, and Tadhg and Alana, all caught up the in the joyful dance.
“How many times have ye said that to me since we were wed?” she asked in a teasing voice as they danced along.
“I was nae counting, but whatever it is, it’ll never be enough,” he told her in a low, husky voice, his hands squeezing her waist and making her quiver with excitement. “’Tis a grand party, tae be sure, but I have tae admit I can hardly wait tae get ye alone. Lovely as ye look in that gown, I have an urgent need tae get ye out of it and ravish ye.”
“Ooh, is that a promise?” she teased as they reached the top of the column, then parted at the top to run down to the start and meet again.
“I’m a man of me word, Ivy, as ye ken,” he told her with a cheeky wink.
“Aye, I ken, and I lookin’ forward tae keepin’ ye tae it,” she whispered back, panting with exertion as she planted a kiss on his lips. It was simply impossible to look at him and not want him. “When can we decently take our leave, d’ye think,” she added with a mischievous giggle.
“Well, I think because everyone’s gone to such trouble to make this a happy day fer us, we owe it tae them stay at least another five minutes,” he said with a suggestive quirk of an eyebrow.
“Wheesht, Husband!” she cried, pretending to be shocked. “Ye ken very well it would be rude nae to stay a wee while longer.”
“Ten minutes it is, then,” he shot back, flinging them back into the fray, his laughter vibrating against her cheek as she clung to him, giggling.
Night had fallen when they finally announced their departure and were serenaded up the stairs and into Liam’s chamber, which was now theirs to occupy as a married couple, by raucous and vulgar roistering from the company, most of whom were now deep in their cups.
When everyone had gone, Liam kicked the door shut, scooped Ivy up in his arms, and carried her across to the bed. He threw her down and stood towering over her. “At last, I’ve got ye all tae mesel, Wife,” he said, gazing down at her so hungrily, she reached up and pulled him down on top of her, entwining her arms about his neck. The flame he always kindled inside her had ignited with force.
“Kiss me,” she whispered, wanting to feel his weight on her, for it excited her beyond words.
“Och, I’ll be kissing ye all over all night, dinnae ye worry about that,” he told her hoarsely, brushing her hair back from her face and gazing intently into her eyes as his mouth met hers. Hers answered his equally hungrily. “Every night, in fact, if I get me way,” he murmured against her lips, making her whole body quiver. She felt the sudden urge to be free of her clothes.
“Help me with me dress,” she murmured, shrieking with surprise when he flipped her onto her stomach and began undoing her laces.
“I was just thinking the same thing meself,” he told her with a wolfish grin, his fingers nimbly working to free her. Before long, she felt the dress loosening and wriggled to help Liam slide it down over her hips, leaving her in her chemise and stockings. “Ach, ye’re a sight fer sore eyes, me Ivy,” he breathed. She reveled in the groan that came from him as he paused, clearly admiring her from behind.
Deftly, he flipped her onto her back and pulled the chemise over her head. She lifted her arms obediently, smiling at him, eager for his gaze on her, for his touch. Soon, she was naked but for her stockings. He rolled each one down carefully, tracing a molten hot trail of kisses and nibbling bites up and down her legs as he did so, deliberately teasing her and making her moan and wriggle beneath him. Already, she felt the wetness of her desire pooling between her legs.
“I notice ye’ve still got yer clothes on, Husband. Will ye nae take them off so I can get at ye?” she invited in between the small moans prompted by his caresses that were escaping from her lips. She was desperate to feel his naked skin against hers. The moans became squeals of delight as his kisses reached her inner thighs and brushed teasingly across her sex before moving upward to her belly.
“Mmm,” he mumbled, his hands now on her naked breasts, cupping and squeezing them in a leisurely fashion with obvious enjoyment. He sucked and nipped at the peaks playfully as they hardened with desire, watching her through slitted eyes, to see the effect of his caresses.
Ivy moaned louder and pulled him closer. His body lay atop hers, and she could feel the length of his aroused manhood pressing against her. The urge to have him inside her was so powerful, it was overwhelming.
“I want ye now, Liam, please,” she murmured softly, her hands pulling at his clothing.
A devilish glint in his eyes, he stood up from the bed. His gaze never left hers as he tore off his sword belt, tartan plaid, and coat and threw them over a chair, missing it completely. With a comical shrug, clad only in his shirt, he kicked off his boots. His tipsy stumbling had Ivy laughing despite her lust.
Finally, she could hardly wait any longer as he tugged off his shirt and heedlessly tossed it aside. Ivy gasped in pleasure as always to see his naked body revealed to her. The sight of the broad expanse of his softly, furred chest and the hard, bulging muscles of his arms and shoulders thrilled her. But it was his fully aroused manhood that stood up proudly to greet her she craved the most.
Liam joined her on the bed again, resuming his sensual exploration of her body with his hands and lips. His manhood nosed gently against her thighs, and she abandoned herself to the luxurious pleasure of his ministrations, eagerly returning his kisses and caresses.
She slid her palms across his smooth skin, delighting in the feel of him, marveling at his strength. Her fingers traced a path along his tattoos, his scars, then down his belly. She took his now rigid shaft in her hand, eliciting a loud and satisfying groan that made her burn with wanting.
“Love me, Liam, please, I cannae wait any longer fer ye tae be inside me,” she pleaded softly, her fingers tangled in his hair. Provocatively, she slid down, her legs encircling his waist, opening herself for him. The way he looked at her then, with such heat in his eyes, sent her into a kind of delirium. Slowly, he positioned his manhood at the center of her hotness and pushed into her.
As his full length slipped inside her, filling her to the brim, he grunted low in his throat. The feel of him inside her and the animalistic sound forced a scream of pleasure from her, and she pressed her hips upward to meet him. They fell against each other, lip to lip, almost breathless, in white hot passion. Holding her tightly, with his whisky-scented breath hot on her skin and driving her to distraction, Liam began to move his hips.
At the same time, he leaned above her on one elbow, freeing one hand to strum on her excited rosebud until she could only thrash beneath him helplessly, desperate for more. As her moans mounted, his rhythmic thrusts grew harder, driving into her, filling her completely.
The excitement was building inside her now with every movement, a wave of heat rising inside her with his every thrust. His groans of pleasure undid her, and she met him every time, sensing that he too was approaching the climax of their lovemaking alongside her.
When it came like a racing tide, they clung to each other, bucking wildly, crying out together, united in an ecstasy that Ivy felt carried them far away from this world and into one made just for them.
“I love ye, Ivy,” Liam panted in her ear as they lay together in the aftermath.
She smiled in deep contentment, hugging him to her. “And I love ye too, Liam. Forever.”
He rolled over, encircling her with his arm. She lay happily against his chest, running her fingers idly across it.
“We’ve come a long way together, have we nae?” he asked, kissing her hair. “I can hardly believe we’re man and wife now, and we can be like this every night from now on.” He gave a satisfied sigh.
“Aye, I ken. It all seems like a dream. A wonderful, magical dream. I’m so happy.”
“Ye ken, I always wanted ye, even when I thought I could never have ye and told mesel’ I’d never wed. Thank the Wee Man I got that stupid idea out of me head.” He spoke in tones of wonder that touched Ivy’s heart.
“I’m so thankful I was foolish enough tae agree tae wed ye,” she joked, tickling his ribs.
“Foolish, is it,” he said in mock umbrage, tickling her back and making her shriek with laughter. “Well, now, I’m going to have to punish ye fer being so disrespectful tae yer husband.” Effortlessly, he rolled her on top of him, clasping her body to his, and soon, they were kissing again, and then one thing led to another. They made love another time, tenderly, leisurely, before they curled up in each other’s arms and fell into a deep, contented slumber. The first of many such nights and a new, happy life together.
“Will ye stop with that bloody tuneless whistlin’ of yers?” Liam complained again as he put the finishing touches to Tadhg’s wedding outfit.
“I’m happy, that’s why I’m whistlin’,” Tadhg explained. “’Tis the only way I can keep me nerves at bay,” he added, turning to look at his reflection in the mirror.
“Well, can ye try tae stay in tune at least? Ye’re drivin’ me mad,” his brother said, standing back to survey his handiwork.
“Wait until after I’m wed and I’ve had a few drams. It’ll nae be the whistlin’ ye’ll need tae worry about then,” Tadhg warned him.
Liam groaned. “Ach, the singin’. I’m gonnae have tae drink an awful lot tae avoid havin’ tae pay mind tae yer caterwaulin’. Now, give me yer arm. I need tae tie the strip fer the handfastin’.”
Tadhg obediently offered up his wrist as he inspected his reflection. “How dae I look?” he asked, wondering what Alana would think when she saw him waiting for her at the altar in his dark blue wedding coat.
“Well, ye cannae dae anythin’ about yer ugly mug, but I suppose the clothes look all right.” He finished trying the strip and stepped back.
“Ach, yer just jealous, wee Braither,” Tadhg said, brushing off the insult with a grin. “Bloody handsome, is what ye meant tae say, I think.” He pulled at the lace cuffs protruding from his coat sleeves. “I dinnae think I’ve ever worn such fancy clothes.”
“Aye, me neither,” Liam agreed as the two brothers stood next to each other in front of the long looking glass in their wedding finery. Their reflections smiled back at them.
“D’ye wish Ma and Pa were here tae see ye wed?” Liam asked. Tadhg looked at him in the mirror. It was unusual for either of them to mention their murdered parents. It was far too painful.
“Aye, I have been thinkin’ about them,” Tadhg admitted. “Alana reckons they’d be very proud of me and want me tae be happy.”
Liam nodded. “I reckon she’s right. I hope they’re lookin’ down on us from heaven, feelin’ proud. That’s what I like tae think, anyway.”
Tadhg clapped his younger brother on the back. “Aye, me too, lad.”
“They certainly would be surprised tae see ye marryin’ a laird’s daughter. The MacTavishes are goin’ up in the world.”
“Well, ye never ken, now I’m hobnobbin’ in all the right circles with the posh folks, ye may find a high-born lassie fer yersel’. Ye may even find her at the cèilidh tonight, eh?”
“Mayhap I will, Braither. I’m sick of always bein’ the single one. Alana and Maddison say they’ve made sure tae invite plenty of unwed lassies fer me tae choose from.” Liam adjusted his neckcloth pin. “And I intend tae dance with all the prettiest ones.”
“That’s the spirit, lad,” Tadhg told him before glancing nervously at the mantel clock. “Ach, time’s gettin’ on. I dinnae want tae be late. I think we should go down so we can get intae place before the bride arrives,” he added.
“Stop tryin’ tae dae me job,” Liam said, pushing his brother towards the chamber door. “Ye’re just the groom. Ye dae as yer told. Right, off we go.”
They made their way down to the great hall, where a makeshift altar had been set up. “Well, the place looks grand,” Tadhg observed, moved to see how much hard work had gone into decorating the lofty hall. Colorful pennants and garlands of greenery and expensive hothouse-grown flowers, paid for by Laird MacIver, adorned the walls and columns.
“Ye can thank Maddison fer that. She planned it all,” Liam said as they made their way up the aisle to the altar and shook hands with the minister, who was already waiting there for them.
“The bride is due tae arrive soon,” Liam said. “Are ye ready, Tadhg?”
Tadhg took a deep breath and pulled himself up to his full six-feet-two. “Aye, as ready as I’ll ever be, lad.”
“Ach, ye soft thing, ye ken ye’re lookin’ forward tae it,” his brother teased.
Tadhg laughed. “Ye have me there, and when ye see Alana walkin’ down the aisle in her beautiful gown, then ye’ll understand why, lad.”
The next minutes may have been the longest of his life. When the great doors finally opened, and he looked around to see Alana enter the hall on the arm of her father, with Maddison holding her train, his heart stopped beating for a few moments.
She resembled a queen as she moved at a stately pace up the aisle between the rows of seated guests towards him, a sweet smile on her lips. Her gown of apricot silk flowed around her legs, demure yet somehow managing to flatter every curve. He had the feeling he must have done something right in life if this clever beauty was actually choosing to shackle herself to him!
His heart resumed its drumbeat at a slightly quicker pace. When Alana came up to him, their eyes met, and the happiness that engulfed him to see the love in hers was more than he had ever expected to experience in his life. When Laird MacIver handed her over with a smile, they secretly clasped their fingers before turning to the minister as he began the ceremony.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today in the sight of God…” came the solemn words, but Tadhg found it hard to focus on what the man was saying. All he could think of was Alana standing at this side, and that in very short time she would truly be his.
The time came for the handfasting, just before they both spoke their final vows, and Liam came forward and handed Tadhg a fancy dagger. Tadhg took it and made a rapid cut, one across Alana’s hand and one across his own, drawing blood. The exchanged loving glances as they pressed their hands together, mingling their blood, while Liam drew together the two strips of fabric around their wrists into a perfect knot.
“Dae ye, Tadhg MacTavish, take this woman…” the minister intoned. Tadhg listened carefully to the words, for the vows meant everything to him. He wanted to remember every word, and for Alana to know he meant them with all his heart and soul.
“I will,” he said, gazing deeply into her eyes. And when it was her turn, his heart somersaulted in his chest to hear her say she would always be his, ‘til death parted them. But Death could go to hell as far as he was concerned because even after that, he had no intention of ever letting her go.
With the scared vows spoken and sealed with blood, Liam came forward again. This time, he carefully slipped the intact knot over the couples joined hands and laid it on a velvet cushion. It would be treasured as a symbol of their union for generations to come. They held hands as the ceremony drew to its conclusion.
“I now pronounce ye man and wife. Ye may kiss the bride.”
“Our first kiss and man and wife,” Tadhg whispered as he took Alana’s face tenderly between his palms and bent to exchange a heartfelt kiss with his new wife.
“’Tis wonderful indeed, husband,” she murmured, catching his bottom lip playfully between her teeth before she let him go.
The guests cheered and whooped and stamped their appreciation of the match. No doubt the anticipation of the party to follow was part of it too. The happy couple were showered will well wishes as they made their way to the next stage of the celebration.
“I feel like a king,” Tadgh told his wife as he escorted her proudly the short distance to the laird’s table. “Ye look so beautiful, Alana, ye take me breath away. I cannae wait tae get ye alone.”
The blush on Alana’s cheeks and her smile as she looked up at him sent hot little flames running up his spine. He bent to kiss her lips again. She kissed him back, smiling. Then, she stood on tiptoe and said into his ear, “Ye look very braw yersel’, husband, and I’m lookin’ forward tae our weddin’ night too. But now, behave yersel’. We have a wedding tae celebrate with all our guests. And look, there’s the quaich. We must dae our duty.”
She drew back and gestured with her chin to the MacIver family quaich, which was standing on a small table covered with a white cloth just in front of them. Laird MacIver stood by it and passed it to the newlyweds with pride glinting in his eyes.
Knowing she was right, he tried to collect himself and looked down at the quaich, the traditional, double-handed lovers cup. The MacIver version was of heavy, embossed silver. It stood alongside a small barrel of whisky. He filled the cup to the brim with whisky, and he and Alana took hold of a handle each and lifted it to their lips.
Alana laughed as they tried not to spill to much of the amber liquid before drinking from the cup together to seal the union and bring them good luck. The quaich was then passed around to everyone else, as a way of making sure everyone participated in the solemn ritual.
Next was the feast, but to bring more good luck, before the meal could start, Tadhg first had to pay the piper. The centuries-old tradition said that the piper must have his dram in payment for piping the company to its dinner. This was accompanied by the rapturous and very loud enjoyment of the newly-weds and their guests as the piper downed his whisky, blew up a tune, and led them all in a winding procession, which ended at the dinner table.
The wedding feast commenced in earnest then, with music and entertainment provided, mountains of food, and rivers of ale, wine, and whisky. When darkness descended outside, hundreds of candles and lamps were lit, casting a magical glow over the lively scene below.
“Look at all the food Faither’s laid on,” Alana said, chuckling as she gestured with her arm at the dazzling array of dishes on offer. Ruby-colored wine swished in the glass she was holding. “I’ve never seen so much.”
“Aye, he’s certainly spared nae expense. ’Tis a really wonderful spread,” Tadhg agreed. Then he suddenly asked, “D’ye think getting’ married makes ye hungry? I havenae eaten much in the last few days, but all of a sudden I’m starvin’,” he confessed, taking a long drink of ale from his tankard.
“Och, me too. Come on, let’s eat before the dancin’ begins,” she said.
So, they sat in their place as bride and groom and enjoyed a lavish dinner, while being the center of attention, and the subject of several loud and amusing toasts given in their honor. But the most important one was given by Laird MacIver himself, talking about his joy at finally finding his daughter and his pride at giving her away to Tadhg. He then went on to mention the couple’s role as his new heirs and the passing on of his title to Tadhg upon his demise, which he jokingly said he hoped would be as late as possible, given he had just escaped death. Then he raised his glass, followed by all the guests, and the party continued.
When the feast had largely ended, the benches and tables were pushed back, refreshments were relegated to the sidelines, and the party started in earnest. Pipe and fiddle and drum began beating out the songs of old which compelled feet into motion. Thus, the married couple had to be the first to take to the dance floor, for the rest were champing at the bit to get out there.
A much-loved country reel was announced. Tadhg turned to Alana, grinned, and said, “Me dear wife, would ye dae me the honor of this dance?” He bowed gallantly and held out his hand.
“I’d be honored husband,” she said, taking his hand and kissing him on the lips. “’Tis the first of our married life together.”
“May there be many more,” he declared as they took their places at the head of a twin column of dancers that fell in behind them. They raised and linked their hands, their fingers entwined. Tadhg smiled at her, lost in his love for her and his faith in their happiness together, and she smiled back radiantly.
The reel began, and he seized her by the waist, dancing her in circles, making her laugh breathlessly as she clung to him, matching him step for step.
They recreated the same dance later that night, after they had been raucously escorted to their bedchamber and put to bed by a rowdy party consisting mainly of Liam, Odhrán, Maddison, Knox Stewart.
“I had tae literally push them out of the room!” Tadhg complained, shutting the door firmly against any possible return of the well-wishers. He turned to Alana and grinned at her lasciviously, rubbing his hands. “Alone at last.”
“Aye, thank goodness. Me head’s spinning with all that wine and dancin’,” she said, smiling as she came to put her arms around his waist and rest her head against his chest. She was humming the last tune they had danced to, swaying a little from side to side, as though the music had not quite left her.
He joined in, folding her in his arms and moving in time with her. She looked up at him, her eyes shining, and said, “It’s been a wonderful day.”
He kissed her lips softly, reveling in the feeling of her body pressing against him. She was his! “Aye, the best day of me entire life. I cannae imagine bein’ happier, Alana.”
“Me neither. We’ll never forget it, will we?” she asked, reaching up to stroke his cheek. Her beautiful blue eyes and her moist, pink lips as she gazed up at him were pulling him in, as was her enticingly plump decolletage.
“Nay, and ’tis nae over yet,” he said, desire rushing through him. Spurred by it, he suddenly spanned her waist with his hands and lifted her up. She laughed and automatically wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders.
Their lips clashed eagerly as they continued the dance, and they made slow revolutions around the rug to music only they could hear, their bodies locked in a passionate embrace. Alana’s fingers tangled in Tadhg’s hair as their kisses intensified.
“I want ye, Tadhg, I’ve been waitin’ all night fer ye and I need ye now,” she murmured hotly against his skin. The sound of her voice, her warm breath against him, the words themselves made him harden beneath his trews.
He grinned, drawing back from her far enough to look in her eyes and tell her, “That’s funny because that’s exactly how I’m feelin’ about ye, wee wifey.” He danced her against the nearest wall, where he pinned her easily with one hand cupping her behind. “And I’m awful eager tae please ye.”
She moaned as he pressed against her, leaning back against the wall, pulling down the top of her dress, cupping her breasts and offering them to his mouth.
“What did I dae tae deserve ye, Alana, me love?” he murmured, burying his face in the valley between them and submerging himself in her soft warm flesh for a few intoxicating moments before luxuriously taking the stiffening peaks into his mouth and slowly sucking on them and nibbling at them, watching her moan and writhe in pleasure.
Boldly offering more of herself to him, Alana pulled up her skirts and grinding the moist warmth of her naked sex warm against his belly. He tore at the fastenings of his trews and got them undone, while Alana used her feet to push them down around his hips.
His desire wildly inflamed and wanting to add to his own pleasure by increasing hers, he slipped a hand between her legs. “Ach, ye’re so ready fer me,” he said, his breathing coming raggedly, stroking her slit and slipping his fingers inside her.
“Ah!” She gasped, her body bucking as she leaned back further against the wall and opened herself to his explorations with a wanton enthusiasm he found quite intoxicating.
Her desire for him was a huge aphrodisiac of him, stoking the fires of his need for her. “D’ye want me inside ye,” he asked in a whisper, his fingers probing her deeply, his thumb toying with her swollen bud until she thrashed her head from side to side.
“I want ye, please,” she moaned, her eyes liquid slits as she gazed at him. Then, she arched her back and cried, “I’m co–.” She gripped his shoulders and tightened her thighs round his waist, shuddering as he took her over the edge into ecstasy.
As soon as she had climaxed, he seized his club-like erection in his hand and guided it into her slick, pulsing sex, pushing deep inside her with a deep groan of satisfaction and indescribable pleasure.
“Make love tae me, Tadhg,” she moaned. Her walls gripped him as he thrust in and out at an increasing frantic pace, sweat trickling down his brow. His mouth greedily devoured her breasts, while his hand gripped her behind tightly to keep her pinned in place.
His intense love for her and the overwhelming pleasure she was giving him soon had him reaching his own shattering peak. It was greatly enhanced when he felt her coming again, and they rode the wave of ecstasy together, thrusting against each other wildly, as if their lives depended upon it.
They stayed there for a while, recovering their breath, laughing, kissing and caressing each other, caught in the bubble of their love and mutual desire. When Tadhg finally carried her over to the bed and they toppled down, lying side by side, he brushed her dark locks from her face and smiled down at her. “Ye’re the most precious thing in me life, Alana.”
She smiled and laced her arms around his neck. “I feel the same about ye, Tadhg. Ye’re the best thing that ever came intae me life. I dinnae think I truly kent happiness until I met ye.”
They kissed and snuggled up in each other’s arms, and before long, they fell fast asleep, with smiles on their lips.
***
Everyone knew that Tadhg had had a meeting with Laird MacIver and Alana recently, the upshot of which was a signed agreement and will amendment that Tadhg would take over the lairdship after the laird’s death. This was by virtue of both marrying Alana and the high esteem in which his father held his future son-in-law.
Her father was very pleased with the match. He tended to take a fatherly, almost proud attitude towards Tadhg, treating him like the son he had once had but lost, while showing him respect. Tadhg enjoyed his company too. They rode out together, hunted, played cards and chess, and drank and talked for hours.
“He’s teachin’ me what it takes tae be a laird,” Tadhg had explained to Alana one day when she asked about it.
“That’s good, is it nae?”
“Aye, very good. When I take over as laird, I want tae be the best I can be at the job. So we can dae our best ruling taegether, fer ye will always be by me side helping me make the right choices fer yer… our people.”
“I ken that but are ye’re sure ye have nae worries about taking it on?” she had asked. “’Tis a big responsibility.”
“Nay, are ye mad? I’m yer husband, Alana. It’ll be me job, and I want tae dae ye proud. ’Tis a great honor fer me tae have this opportunity, but I wouldnae have it if it wasnae fer ye. I’m nae gonnae let ye down. I’m nae worried, I’m grateful fer the chance and excited about our future,” he had told her.
“And ye dinnae mind taking the name MacIver?”
He had laughed. “Nae at all, lassie. I look at it this way; I’m gainin’ a name. I’ll be Laird Tadhg MacTavish MacIver. That’s quite a mouthful, eh?”
“It certainly is,” she agreed with a chuckle. “I only want ye tae be happy, darlin’,” she added.
He gently pulled her down on to sofa with him, enfolding her in his arms, and nuzzling her neck. “I love ye, and I’m gonnae dae everythin’ in me power tae make ye happy.”
Eight weeks had flown by, and so much had happened since her capture. But the happiest occurrence of all was her father’s recovery. As stubborn as any mule, he had remained in bed for the least amount of time possible, and determined he was fine, had been up and walking about far earlier than Dara had suggested. But Benedict had been right. Her father was a warrior, and thus, day by day, his health had improved until eventually, he was in far less pain than before.
He was still not entirely well, of course, and there were days he had to take things a little easier. But he was far better than anyone could have expected in such a short time, and Yvaine and Evelyn had spoken often of how grateful they were for Dara, and her skills as a healer.
The previous night her father had knocked at the door of her bedchamber, and when she had invited him in, Evelyn had said, “Please dinnae tell me ye are here tae give me the talk again, Father. I ken I am getting married tomorrow, but truly, the last time was just mortifying.”
Donald had chuckled, while at the same time, wincing, for laughing caused him pain.
“Have nae fear. I am here only tae have a final drink with my daughter before she becomes a married woman.” He grinned.
“Thank all the gods in heaven for that,” Evelyn blurted. Which had only sent her father into further laughter.
“Stop it,” he chuckled, “or I’ll nae be fit tae give ye away on the morrow.”
They had settled in front of the fire and talked about the good times. In fact, Donald spoke lovingly about Mary, his wife. Evelyn was both surprised and moved, for it was the first time he had done so since her death. He shared memories and they laughed together for a while, before her father, after finishing his drink, said that he wanted to let her get her rest for the big day.
“I love ye, me darling,” he said, as he left her bedchamber. “Get a good night’s sleep. Ye have a big day tomorrow.”
“I will, Faither,” Evelyn said, kissing his cheek.
Half an hour later, another knock came on her door, and upon opening it, Evelyn was surprised to see Benedict standing there holding a bottle of wine.
“Ye cannae be here,” she said, even though she opened the door wider for him to enter.
“And yet, ye are bidding me entrance,” he had said, grinning down at her. “Now, come on. Get us some glasses. We are going tae celebrate the fact that we survived long enough tae get married.”
He had poured glasses of wine, and they had sat close together on the sofa by the fire. The conversation was light and easy, with times when neither of them spoke at all.
After a while, Benedict had said. “It is time ye got some sleep. Off ye go and get intae bed.”
Evelyn had stood and walked to the door to bid him good night, but Benedict had not moved.
“What are ye doing?” she had asked.
Gazing at her from his firm position on the sofa, he had said, “I’m staying.” By his tone, it was clear he was not joking.
“But Benedict—”
“I dinnae care what ye say, Evelyn,” he had replied stubbornly. “Ye’re nae budging me from this room.”
This shift in him had gone on since her kidnaping, and no matter how many times she had tried to reassure him, her soon-to-be-husband was still overprotective. She had hoped it would wane, somewhere along the way, and yet two months on, he was still as hyper alert as ever.
“We cannae spend the night together before our wedding,” Evelyn had stated.
“Then I will sleep on the floor.”
“Ye’ll dae nay such thing,” she had balked.
“Well, I’m nae leaving. And that’s final.”
Evelyn had heaved a sigh, and eventually they had compromised. They had slept in the same bed, his arms wrapped around her, their only intimacy being a passionate kiss, and then, the two had fallen fast asleep.
When Evelyn was wakened by Yvaine, Benedict was gone, but the bed was still warm, so it had not been long ago that he had left.
“I was sent in here by yer soon-to-be-husband and ordered nae tae leave ye alone,” Yvaine smirked. “Fer god’s sake, dinnae tell faither he spent the night with ye before yer wedding day.”
“I couldnae get him tae leave,” Evelyn defended.
“Well,” Yvaine said, pulling the drapes open and letting the light spill into the room, “I can sort o’ understand his point o’ view.”
“I dinnae ken he’ll ever let me out of his sight again,” Evelyn said, pushing herself from the bed.
Yvaine turned and gazed at her sister sympathetically. “It’ll pass eventually, Evelyn. He was just so terrified that he’d lost ye. We were all distraught on that day, but Benedict was beside himself.”
Evelyn was about to reply when there was a knock on the door. Yvaine hurried across the room, and a moment later, her bedchamber was flooded with maids.
Two hours later, Evelyn walked out of the castle with her father by her side. People had travelled from far and wide, including many from Clan Sinclair. Unlike last time, where the wedding had been rushed forward for Evelyn’s safety, everyone had been given plenty of time to arrive. The castle could not accommodate them all, and thus, most of the guests were camped just outside of the castle walls.
The chapel was too small to hold all the guests, and so instead, as suggested by Killian, of all people, the wedding was being held in the rear gardens on the huge lawn.
Chairs decorated with flowers and ribbons stood in rows on either side of the aisle she currently walked down. Her stomach felt like a hundred butterflies danced in it. It was not nerves, but rather, excitement that this day had finally come.
Benedict stood a little way ahead with Audor by his side, and when she and her father finally reached them, her father handed her off to Benedict, who, upon seeing her, beamed with astonished delight.
“Ye take me breath away, Evelyn,” he murmured.
She could only gaze up into those beautiful green eyes of his and smile with blissful happiness.
When the ceremony was over, a great cheer came from the crowd behind them, and after many congratulations from all those present, the whole party moved inside, where the great hall awaited them.
Tables were laden with every sort of meat, from boar to venison, from chicken to quail. There were breads and biscuits, there were bowls of berries and seasonal fruit, there were jellies and cakes.
Audor gave a rousing speech, and, after another roar from all those present, he made a toast.
“Tae Benedict and Evelyn. May the wind be always behind them, and may the road come up tae meet their feet.”
Soon afterwards, the musicians began to play, and dancing commenced. Benedict and Evelyn hardly had a chance to catch their breath after their first dance, for they travelled around the room, thanking each and every one of the guests for coming.
Then, they came across Killian and Yvaine, who were, as usual, arguing about something or other. Benedict grinned down at Evelyn, and after shaking their heads and laughing, they swiftly moved along.
After some time, Benedict bent to Evelyn’s ear. “Would ye like tae get out o’ here fer a while?”
Evelyn widened her eyes and nodded her head. “I would love tae get out o’ here fer a while,” she said emphatically.
Nodding his acknowledgement, he took her by the hand and, threading his way through the bodies that surrounded them, eventually led her outside onto the terrace.
“Oh, me God,” she sighed. “What a delight tae feel the fresh air on me face.”
Benedict slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. “I think this is the first time all day I have actually got tae spend a moment alone with me wife.”
“I like the sound o’ that on yer tongue,” she said, gazing up at him.
“As dae I.”
For a long moment, the two stood there, leaning on the terrace wall, gazing out into the night sky. The closed doors muted the music and raucous laughter, but not by much, and yet, it was enough that they had managed to put some space between themselves and the madness in the great hall. At least everyone was having a good time.
“I have one question that has been niggling at me for some time,” Benedict said.
“Ask it,” Evelyn replied.
“When Audor left, and I took his place, how did ye ken fer all that time I was pretending tae be him, that it was really me?”
Evelyn beamed and smiled, and then snaked her hand up his huge chest. She reached behind his ear, and softly rubbed the scar that sat there. She then raised her eyebrows playfully.
“A scar?” he balked. “Ye kent it was me because o’ a scar?”
“When ye kissed me in the library on that first night that we met, I threaded my fingers through yer hair. I felt the scar back then. And when we sat at the table on the first night we arrived, ye turned tae speak tae Killian. When I saw it, I kent it was ye.”
“And so, ye saw the scar after that? When Audor went away?”
Evelyn shook her head. “Nae. At first, I only sensed something wasnae right. But then ye showed yer hand by making that quip about having the most wonderful adventures in a library. That, as well as the suspicions I already had in my gut, was what gave ye away.”
“I cannae believe it,” he gasped, still clearly amazed. “Naeone else has ever been able tae tell us apart. Never, in all our lives.”
“And I hope,” she murmured, pulling him down to her, “that nae other woman will ever try,” she said teasingly.
“What about a man?” Benedict grinned flippantly.
“Well, if ye choose tae kiss a man over me, then we definitely have a problem.”
“I can assure ye, me love,” he growled, his lips hovering over hers, “there will be nae other lips on mine but yers.”
Benedict pulled her in closer and pressed those very lips against hers. As his love wrapped around her, she allowed herself to be swallowed by it. After everything they had suffered, they were finally together. Together forever, with nothing ahead of them but a future they could carve for themselves.
It had been two days since Lilith and Aaden had made it to Castle MacEwan after Evander’s invitation, and only now did they have the time to rest. The first two days of their visit had been spent with Lilith meeting everyone in the clan and Aaden reacquainting himself with them, spending time with Evander and Janice, and attending feasts and dinners and meetings, one after the other.
Now, though, Aaden had brought her to the river that run through the MacEwan lands—a wide, deep one with crisp waters that formed a small lake right under a rushing waterfall. It was a beautiful place, the likes of which Lilith had never encountered before, and she stood by the bank, watching in awe.
As the sunlight hit the waterfall, it splintered into a rainbow, its colors bright against the dark, jutting rocks. She could hear nothing but the sound of the water pouring unbridled into the basin below. She could feel nothing but the gentle breeze and the cold water that sprayed on her face.
“It’s bonnie here, isnae it?” Aaden asked as he slid up next to her, wrapping an arm around her waist. There was no one else there; just the two of them and the birds that flew overhead. “I used tae come here when I was a bairn with me faither. I didnae even remember the place until Maither reminded me of it an’ told me I should bring ye here.”
“Dae ye remember it now?” Lilith asked, leaning her head on Aaden’s shoulder. “Is it still the same?”
“I think the waterfall wasnae as wide when I was last here,” said Aaden. “Though from what I remember, it seemed much taller. Perhaps because I was a wee laddie.”
It made sense, Lilith supposed. Aaden was much smaller back then so everything in his memory would have been much bigger. She couldn’t help but wonder what else had changed for him, what else was not as familiar anymore as it once had been.
“There really is only one thing tae dae here,” Aaden said and then proceeded to tear off his clothes in a few fluid movements until he was standing entirely nude in front of Lilith. She hardly had the chance to do anything but stare at him in disbelief, a surprised chuckle escaping her.
“What are ye doin’?” she asked.
“I’m goin’ fer a swim,” said Aaden, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
Lilith raised a dubious eyebrow. “In there? Is it nae cold?”
“Very much so.”
The thought of freezing in the water didn’t seem to bother Aaden, though. If anything, he seemed excited for the plunge and he reached out for Lilith with a hand, one that she didn’t take.
“Ach, I think I’d rather stay here,” she said, looking at the water distrustfully.
“Come, lass,” Aaden urged her, wiggling his fingers a little. “Surely, ye willnae let me be cold on me own.”
“Why should I be cold just because ye have nae common sense?” If anything, Aaden deserved to freeze half to death if he was foolish enough to go in that water.
“It truly isnae that bad,” Aaden insisted, “I used tae swim here all the time when I was a bairn.”
“Ye said ye didnae even remember this place.”
“Aye, but there’s nae other place tae swim around here, so I must have been swimmin’ in this water just fine.”
It wasn’t enough to reassure Lilith, but the hopeful look Aaden gave her was too sweet to resist. As much as she would rather stay in the relative warmth of the sun and the air around her, she doubted Aaden would budge until she had agreed to join him.
With a long-suffering sigh, Lilith began to remove her clothes, leaving everything on a small pile under the shade of a large oak. Once she was fully nude, she tried to cover her body with her arms, even though it was far from the first time Aaden had seen her like this, and he chuckled, walking over to her to pull her into his arms.
“Why are ye hidin’ from me?” he asked as Lilith sagged against him, relaxing for a moment. “Have I nae seen ye like this ‘afore?”
“Ye have,” Lilith said. “But it’s usually at night, in our chambers. Nae in the middle o’ the day, out in the open.”
“There is nae one else here,” Aaden assured her. “Nae one else but us.”
Lilith knew that, of course, but it didn’t stop the paranoia from infecting her like a disease. She looked around her, worried that someone would come by and see them, but they truly were alone.
“Come,” Aaden urged her, pulling her towards the water. Lilith followed him reluctantly, letting him step in first and watching for his reaction. For several moments, Aaden froze entirely, to the point where Lilith feared he had even stopped breathing, the air seizing in his lungs. Though he was facing away from her, he could tell by the sharp, tense lines of his shoulders and his back that the water was, indeed, colder than he had imagined.
“I’m nae goin’ in there,” Lilith said, trying to tug herself free from Aaden’s grip, but he refused to let go.
“It’s alright,” he said, voice strained. “It’s nae that cold.”
Still doubtful, Lilith let Aaden pull her into the water. The first splash of it over her ankles was hardly felt. It was only when she stayed there for a few seconds that the cold truly got to her, like a thousand pins sticking into her skin. She tried to endure it; she truly did. She just couldn’t imagine plunging in with her entire body. It sounded like too much torture.
“Well, that was enough fer me,” Lilith said and this time, Aaden allowed her to pull free from him, perhaps because he, too, simply could not stand the cold. She quickly climbed out of the water, and the numbing sensation continued even after.
Soon, Aaden was by her side, shivering, and Lilith couldn’t help but laugh as she pulled him to their horses, grabbing the blanket they had brought with them and wrapping it around them both as they huddled together for warmth.
“Are ye ready tae admit it was colder than ye thought?” Lilith asked, looking up at him smugly.
“It truly wasnae that bad,” Aaden insisted, and before Lilith could say anything else, he kissed her, effectively silencing her. Lilith could protest, she thought; she could try to get him to admit the truth, but she wasn’t as invested in it as she was in the kiss. Her arms came to wrap around his neck as Aaden’s hands found her hips, their bodies pressed flush together, and that familiar heat spread through her body instantly, her desire for him demanding her attention.
They hadn’t been with each other for several days, both of them too tired from the trip and their duties to do anything more than sleep once they retreated to their chambers. Lilith wanted him desperately, her body aching for him, and if she were to judge by the way Aaden was responding to her kisses and her touch, then he was just as desperate.
Lilith traced Aaden’s body with the tips of her fingers, running them gently over his shoulders, his back, then up his stomach and chest until he was shivering with more than just the cold. Before long, he pulled back to lay the blanket down onto the grass and pulled Lilith to sit next to him, before capturing her lips in a kiss once more.
As they kissed, Aaden’s hand trailed up her thigh, teasing the crease of her hip until Lilith’s legs fell open, a silent plea to touch her where she wanted it the most. Chuckling against her lips, Aaden brushed his knuckles over her opening, the touch offering no relief. It was only even more maddening, too soft and gentle to provide any real pleasure.
“Touch me,” Lilith demanded, her own hand finding Aaden’s to guide his fingers between her thighs. Any embarrassment that had gripped her earlier at revealing her body like this was now gone, replaced with nothing but lust and need, an urgent, unstoppable desire that she had to fulfil right that instant.
Aaden groaned against her as he was led by her hand. He let her guide his fingers, both of them moaning softly at the first touch of his hand. Slowly, he began to scatter kisses down her neck, stopping where it met her shoulder to suck and nibble on the sensitive skin there, before moving even lower to draw her nipple between his lips. At the same time, under Lilith’s guidance, he rubbed that sensitive spot that tore moan after moan from her, her voice echoing in the air around them.
When Aaden slipped one of his fingers inside her, Lilith’s eyes firmly shut, her hips trembling as she rolled them in an attempt to take him even deeper. Soon, it was joined by another, the slide of them against her walls slow and torturous and just what Lilith needed. When Aaden’s teeth grazed over her nipple, her back arched off the blanket, her body chasing the sensation, and Aaden took the opportunity to thrust his fingers all the way to the last knuckle, hitting a spot inside her that had stars exploding behind her eyelids. Those clever fingers pushed and prodded at her, coaxing more of her wetness to gather between her thighs, coating her folds and Aaden’s hand.
“Please,” she said, reaching for Aaden to pull him closer. “I want ye inside me.”
“Look how intoxicated ye are already,” Aaden said. It didn’t sound like a taunt. If anything, he sounded as though he were in awe, as though Lilith losing herself to her pleasure was the best thing he had ever witnessed. “Ye’re so wet fer me. Dae ye want me?”
“I dae,” Lilith said as she reached between them for his manhood. When she grasped him in her hand, Aaden sounded more intoxicated than she was, the mere touch making his entire body shudder. Lilith stroked him slowly from base to tip, just to see him tremble as he braced himself over her, so close already to losing all self-control.
Lilith knew neither of them would last. They had been teasing each other too much the past few days only to never resolve the tension between them, and now that they finally had the chance, they were both already close to the end. It didn’t matter, though; she was certain Aaden would be more than happy to make up for all the days they had missed just in that afternoon alone.
When Aaden removed his fingers, Lilith watched with wide eyes full of hunger as he took himself in his hand and spread her slickness over himself. The sight had her moaning, her legs coming up to wrap around his waist as he finally entered her, her folds parting easily for his length. In one smooth thrust, he was seated all the way inside her, reaching impossibly deep. His fingers dug into her hips, holding onto her as he gave another thrust, this one harder, its force pushing Lilith up the blanket’s length.
Aaden set a punishing pace, one that pushed the air out of Lilith’s lungs. Lilith could only moan and cling onto him with every movement of his hips, the sounds of their coupling filling the air around her and making her cheeks heat. It was just as embarrassing as it was intoxicating, hearing Aaden groan unrestrained above her, looking into his eyes as he hovered over her, his gaze never wavering from hers.
When he reached between them, his fingers tracing the place where they were joined, Lilith couldn’t help the shudder that spread through her entire body. Lust coiled deep in her core, liquid pleasure flooding her belly as she felt the drag of Aaden’s length inside her and the gentle touch of his fingers around her folds, until they finally came to settle on that sensitive spot once more, pleasuring her relentlessly.
“Let me see ye come apart fer me,” Aaden said, his voice barely audible over her moans and the sound of the rushing water. “I wish tae feel ye around me when ye dae.”
That voice, combined with the pleasure he was giving her, was enough to send Lilith over the edge. She shook as wave after wave of her climax washed over her, her fingers curling into Aaden’s shoulders, her body clenching tightly around him, until he was following her in her zenith, spilling hot inside her.
For a few moments, they did nothing but share the air around them, trying to catch their breaths. Aaden’s hips were still moving lazily, drawing out the last lingering impressions of her climax until it was all too much for them both and he collapsed on top of her instead, pillowing his head on her shoulder.
Lilith laughed softly, her fingers brushing through his golden hair. Aaden was a big man, heavy to the point that she was struggling to breathe, but she didn’t mind staying like that for a while. It was comforting, feeling him so close, his manhood still nestled inside her, his body still bracketed tightly by her hips.
“If ye give me a few minutes, I can go again,” Aaden mumbled against her shoulder, his words muffled by her skin.
Lilith couldn’t help but laugh again, stopping her gentle petting for a moment to give the back of his head a gentle smack. “It wasnae enough fer ye?”
“Nay,” said Aaden, half-heartedly trying to bat her hand away, but letting his own drop by his side again when he didn’t manage to hit his target. Lilith only stroked his hair again and he stretched like a giant cat over her, clearly enjoying the attention. “An’ I doubt it was enough fer ye, either. I ken how voracious me wife is.”
As he spoke, Aaden tilted his head to kiss her neck and Lilith let her head fall to the side, indulging him. He seemed to love that part of her, always returning there to kiss and bite and nuzzle, and it wasn’t rare for Lilith to have to come up with creative ways to hide the marks he liked to leave behind.
It was the same for Aaden, though. Ever since one of her father’s men had asked him if he had fought a cat after seeing the marks on his shoulders and his back, he had stopped removing his shirt whenever he practiced on the training grounds.
Once Lilith struggled a little too much to breathe with Aaden on top of her, she pushed at him and he reluctantly rolled over to his back, pillowing his head on his arm. With the other, he pulled Lilith close to him again, their limbs tangled together, their faces only inches apart as they stared at each other.
“I’m so lucky I married ye,” he whispered in the air between them, voice soft and quiet. “I cannae imagine me life without ye.”
Lilith couldn’t help but tease him a little. “I thought ye said… what was it? That ye wished tae be free fer the rest o’ yer life.”
“Well, I was a fool back then,” Aaden said. “If bein’ married tae ye means I’m a prisoner, then I’m the happiest prisoner there is.”
“If ye’re a prisoner,” Lilith said, taking a pause to kiss him, “then ye can never escape me.”
“I would never dream o’ doin’ such a thing.”
Lilith looked him in the eyes and knew he was being truthful. She had no doubts about whether his words were true or not anymore; she knew he would never lie to her again.
“I love ye,” she told him, as she laid her head on his shoulder, sighing softly when his hand came to rest on her crown.
“I love ye too, mo ghraidh.”
Lilith had turned soft, she thought. In fact, it was Aaden who had turned her soft. Now they would have to find another nickname for her—Snow Lass hardly seemed like a fitting description anymore.
“Tae me wife,” Tad said, raising his goblet in the air.
“Tae Lady MacBean!” a chorus rang out.
Catreena was still laughing at Tad’s toast as he sat down beside her at the feasting table and leaned toward her.
“Some toast,” she whispered as the pipers began to play their music and the dancing recommenced around them. They had only been married a couple of hours, and already she and Tad were teasing each other mercilessly. She was loving every single second of it. “I think it said somewhere in there that ye loved me.”
“It definitely did.” He laughed and threaded his arm around her waist. “And dinnae look at me like that if ye want me tae behave. We are here tae feast and celebrate the wedding.”
“What look?” she asked innocently, though her hand had gone wandering beneath the table. She raised her hand up the inside of his thigh, watching as his gray eyes darkened with lust.
“That look,” he said simply, fighting his smile. “Or I shall be taking ye intae the garden tae consummate this marriage right now.”
She was still laughing and snapped her hand away, not wanting the intimate touch to be seen, when Bran and Dunn wished them well and many happy years together.
“Speaking of happiness,” Dunn said. “Catreena, take a look.” He elbowed her, jerking his head toward their brother, Evander. Enna was not with him today, and Catreena didn’t think she had seen Evander this happy in a long time. He was smiling and laughing with Alec as the two of them got rather drunk, sharing a jug of mead. Nearby, Ilyssa and Kira were dancing together.
“He’s happy,” Catreena murmured in amazement. “If only he could be like this all the time.”
“Nay chance of that without May around,” Bran said with a heavy sigh.
“Dae ye think she’ll ever come back?” Catreena asked, thinking of the woman who had left her warrior brother heartbroken. “Or that, maybe, he’ll one day forget her?”
“People are never forgotten, nae really,” Tad said, something of wisdom in his tone as he sipped his mead and looked at Evander across the room.
“Speaking of women who shouldnae be forgotten, me wife wants me tae dance,” Bran said with a laugh as he pointed through the merrymakers toward Ilyssa who was now begging him to join her with rapid movements of her arm. “Congratulations tae ye both.”
“Thank ye, Bran,” Catreena said, as Dunn took his leave too, moving to find another woman in the room to dance with.
Catreena stared after Bran as he parted, comforted that despite all his fatherly ways toward her, he had at last taken a step back. It seemed that as of now, she would be another man’s responsibility.
“What are ye thinking?” Tad asked with interest, his hand threading around her waist. She smiled at the sudden intimacy as she fell against his side.
“I was thinking that it seems Bran has handed me intae yer care. He may nae reprimand me as much these days. Perhaps he thinks I’ll listen tae ye instead of him.”
“Listen tae me?” Tad said with raised eyebrows.
“I already told ye, I will nae follow yer orders.”
“Maybe in just one regard.” He winked at her and lowered his lips to her ear. “The bedchamber, or wherever we choose tae make our bedchamber.”
“What dae ye mean?”
“I mean…” He trailed his hand from her waist down her back. In this part of the room, there was no one behind them except tapestry-clad walls. No one to see what he was doing as his hand gripped her rear through the skirt and squeezed. “Come outside.”
“Maybe I’ll listen tae just a few orders. Very occasionally,” she whispered.
He smiled and stepped back as they made their way through the crowds toward the nearest door. Many stopped them on the way to congratulate them, but they never tarried for long.
Outside, Catreena stepped into the chilly air.
“It’s so cold,” she murmured.
“Fear nae. I’ll warm ye up.” Tad took her hand and led her far away from the windows of the great hall. They made their way through formal borders, ending up near a stone bench that overlooked the village in daylight. This dark at night though, with no light around them, they could not be seen. “Trust me?” Tad asked, moving his lips toward her.
“Ye ken I dae,” she repeated the promise she had made before as she felt him move through the darkness and kiss her.
The kiss was one of need, testament to how long they had stayed away from each other with her brothers watching over her all of the time.
Their grabbing hands came next, pulling at one another, trying to reach one another as best as they could.
“Tonight,” he murmured between kisses. “I want ye in that bed, without a stich. Ye will be wearing nothing fer me when I come tae ye in.”
She gasped at the heat of his words, tipping her head back as he trailed her neck with searing kisses.
“But fer now… the first time now we’re wed, it will be fast,” he promised, nibbling a spot at the base of her throat. “It will be hard.”
She panted, needing his touch, thinking only of the promise of his words and the way his hands were tipping her down to that bench.
“It will be everything ye and I have wanted tae dae fer this last month.”
“Ah, Tad,” she moaned as he gripped her through the skirt. It was a tease of how he could touch her, but not enough. Nowhere near enough to satisfy the ache between her legs. “Please,” she begged him.
Flattened suddenly to the bench, she felt her body jerked toward the edge, her legs lifted high as he bundled her skirt around her hips. In the moonlight, she watched his eyes, that gray intense gaze now looking silver in that light. She bit her lip, watching as he growled, clearly as intoxicated by the sight of her as she was by him.
“Tell me what ye want,” he ordered, talking to her in that seductive way he could do so well as his fingers teased the tops of her legs.
“Tad,” she whispered. His fingers brushed her center, but they didn’t give her what she wanted. “Please, make love tae me,” she begged. “Make love tae me.”
A sensual smile appeared on his lips as he reached down to his trews and released his length. He teased her at first, nudging her entrance, but not quite taking her.
“Tad, please,” she whispered. He bent over her, finding her lips as he entered her.
He had not lied when he said it would be hard and fast. It showed just how much he had missed her that the last month, although they had of course secretly met a few times. With no pain at all this time, Catreena was quite delirious from the pleasure in seconds. She couldn’t keep quiet. She had to bite her lip and sometimes Tad muffled her moans with his kisses.
He moved her body increasingly toward the edge of what she could handle, then he slowed, just as she was building up to that release. Infuriated, she pulled him closer toward her.
“Dinnae stop,” she begged. “Tad!”
“There’s something else I want tae hear first,” he said, breathlessly. One of his hands traced her waist through the dress as the other went to her hair. He pulled playfully on those tendrils, just enough to make her gasp. “Tell me what ye wanted tae say last time, but couldnae quite say.”
Her eyes opened wide.
He remembers.
“Tell me what ye feel,” he pleaded, rocking his hips gently into hers. His movements were like a soft caress now, a sizzling pleasure, deep within her abdomen.
“Tad,” she said softly, reaching up toward him. She traced her fingers down his chest then up toward his cheek, cupping it softly. “I love ye.”
He halted his movements, bending down toward her, catching her lips with such an all-encompassing kiss that she could scarcely draw breath.
“I love ye too,” he murmured as he pulled back. Then he flipped her skirt even higher, taking hold of her thighs as he rocked into her harder.
“Oh, Tad!” she screamed out in pleasure, praying no one else had escaped into the garden that night as he drove her fast into oblivion. When she released, she felt him do so at the same time, only on this occasion, he did not pull out. The perfect picture of pleasure erupted into his features as he thrust into her repeatedly, sweat beading around his jawline as he moaned her name, the sound mixing with a growl that sounded purely animalistic.
When they came to a stop, Catreena stared up at him, unable to stop herself from smiling as she realized what he had done.
We risk a child.
She laid a hand to her stomach, softly trailing her fingers across her skin.
“I have never done that before,” he confessed, his voice utterly breathless.
A happiness overtook Catreena that she had not known it was possible to feel. Here was something that Tad had never shared with another woman. It was unique to the two of them.
“Tad, I love ye so much.” She pulled him down to kiss her again, and as they lost themselves in their embrace, Catreena had a feeling they would not be returning to the feast any time soon.
On the day of the wedding, Isabelle stood in her mother’s old bedchamber with Keelin, Cara, and Edith. The three women had been invaluable in assisting her with the wedding preparations. A few weeks before the wedding, Isabelle and Madden’s family and friends had gathered on MacKay lands for the cordadh, the pre-wedding agreement between the bride and groom.
A friend of the groom would stand in his place and the female friends of the bride would be brought before him. Each woman would be rejected until the bride herself was presented. It was a humorous custom with ribald humor and plenty of food and drink. Such events were usually held in the home of the bride’s father, but since Rory Mackay was dead, Arran acted in his place.
The Laird Braden Hamilton acted as the groom’s friend who was to select the proper bride. Every woman in attendance, whether young or old, married or not, was brought before him. Jokes were made a plenty about each woman’s appropriateness or lack thereof, all done in good humor with the women joining in on why or why not they were the right choice. When it was Edith’s turn to be presented, Braden stood up, lifted her into his arms, and placed her firmly in his lap proclaiming that she would wed Madden over his dead body. When Isabelle was finally brought out, a great cheer went up among those gathered and Madden claimed his bride with Braden’s blessing.
About a week after the cordadh, the reiteach was held, the betrothal ceremony. While Madden and Isabelle were already betrothed to one another by their own words, the reiteach set the betrothal with the families wherein a friend of the groom officially asked the father of the bride for her hand on behalf of the groom. It was traditional to ask for the bride bey referring to her, not as a person, but as a symbol of the family or the family’s profession.
Once again, Braden acted as the friend of the groom in this capacity. Braden came to Arran, as the bride’s closest living male relative, and asked for Isabelle to be Madden’s bride. Some families spoke of the bride as a lamb, or a mare, or a cow, or whatever they felt was the right choice. Madden had spoken with Braden ahead of time and told him to speak of her as a priceless necklace. When Isabelle had heard Braden refer to her as that, tears of joy and remembrance sprang to her eyes. It had been her mother’s necklace that had brought them together. It was an extremely romantic gesture. Once Arran accepted the terms of the betrothal, then the families would have a feast with toasting, singing, and dancing. These celebrations would often last well into the night, sometimes till dawn.
After the cordadh and the reiteach were completed, then the feet- washing and blackening would occur. Isabelle’s female friends gathered around her and gently washed her feet. Isabelle knew that it was a symbolic Christian gesture, but she viewed it as a washing away of the past so that she could step into the future with a clean heart and soul. Madden was not so fortunate. His friends covered his feet in black soot and placed feathers between his toes. The soot was to represent the heart of the home being the hearth, but the feathers just made him look ridiculous. Isabelle had never laughed so hard in her life. That night, Isabelle had lovingly bathed his feet in the loch, after which they had made love in the water.
Now as she stood, looking at her reflection in the Venetian glass that the king had sent as a wedding gift along with a letter relieving her of any responsibility for her past actions and Arran for having protected his sister from a cruel and abusive husband who had tried to kill her, she felt a moment of nervousness. “Arran must have made an impression upon the king when he went tae speak with him about Bain’s death,” Keelin observed, admiring the rare and precious gift.
“Me braither has that effect on people,” Isabelle noted.
“Aye, he does,” Cara nodded in agreement.
Isabelle turned back to the mirror and sighed.
“What is troubling ye?” Edith asked, coming up behind her cousin to smooth the back of her hair.
Isabelle shook her head. “I dinnae ken. I am nervous.”
Keelin wrinkled her brow in question. “Why are ye nervous? Ye were married afore this and ye and Madden have shared a bed together.”
Edith gave her sister a chastising glare. “Kee.”
“What? She has and they have.” Keelin shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed frowning.
“It is nae the same thing,” Isabelle replied. “What I had with Bain was nothing but pain and misery.”
“Ye dinnae believe that yer life with Madden will be like that, dae ye?” Edith asked, her brow furrowed in concern. “Ye ken that he is nae anything like yer previous husband, dae ye nae?”
Isabelle shook her head. “I ken that Madden is nae as Bain was, but Bain was nae always brutal towards me. It was nae until he learned that I could nae give him a child that he turned violent. Madden says that he is marrying me and nae me ability or inability tae provide him with an heir. But it saddens me that I cannae give him a child. I sometimes doubt that I will be enough.”
Edith shook her head. “Ye are more than enough. Trust Madden’s love fer ye. Trust yer love fer him. All will be well between ye. And ye dinnae ken that it was ye that couldnae procreate.”
Cara came to stand beside Isabelle, her brow furrowed in thought. “What is it?” Isabelle asked her, turning in concern.
Cara shook her head. “It is only that I remember hearing the maids talking about how they had not seen evidence of yer courses on the sheets or on yer clothing in some time.”
Isabelle’s brows rose in surprise. She had not thought about it. There had been too many other things on her mind. “I have nae had me courses.”
Edith raised a brow in question. “When did ye last have yer courses?”
Isabelle shook her head. “It was right after Bain was killed.”
“That was over two months ago,” Cara pointed out.
Keelin jumped up from the bed. “Are ye with child?”
Isabelle’s eyes grew wide. “I dinnae ken.” She brought her hands to rest on her lower abdomen, her heart beating faster at the thought. “Is it possible?”
“Oh, aye, it is possible,” Edith nodded, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “Have ye been ill? Have yer breasts been tender? Have ye been noticing smells that ye didnae before? Have ye been wanting certain foods more than usual?”
Isabelle’s eyes widened further. “Call fer the healer,” she commanded, her excitement and fear warring with one another.
Cara nodded and rushed from the room to do as bidden. When she returned with the healer in tow, Isabelle was so overcome with emotion that she could hardly speak. “Am I with child?” she asked without bothering with an explanation.
The healer smiled gently at her in understanding. “Let us see, shall we. Lie upon the bed if ye would.” The healer did a quick examination, asked her a series of questions, then stood back and smiled. “I can safely say that ye, me lady, are indeed with child. May God’s blessing be yers.”
Isabelle’s eyes were as giant moons in her face. She had thought such a thing was not possible. Edith stepped in to speak with the healer. “Dinnae speak of this tae a soul. It is her lady’s choice as tae when tae tell the faither and her family.” With that, she curtsied and left.
The healer nodded in understanding. “As ye say, me lady. I will nae breathe a word of this tae a soul.”
Edith turned to Isabelle. “How dae ye feel?”
“I dinnae ken,” Isabelle breathed. Her heart was beating very quickly in her chest. “I think that I need tae speak with Madden.”
Keelin nodded. “Aye, I can go and get him.”
Isabelle nodded her consent.
Keelin left the room and was gone for a brief moment before there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” Isabelle answered.
Keelin entered with Madden. “Is all well, me love?” Madden asked as he came towards her, concern in his eyes.
“I am well, but there is something I would like tae say tae ye afore we are wed.”
“We will await ye in the corridor,” Edith announced motioning for everyone else to leave the room.
“Ye are making me nervous,” Madden admitted, eyeing her uncertainly. “Ye have nae changed yer mind, have ye?”
Isabelle shook her head. “Nay, I have nae changed me mind.”
“What is it then?” he stepped forward, taking her hands in his.
“I thought that it was best that ye kenned the truth afore we were wed,” Isabelle began.
“The truth?”
“That our family will be bigger than we expected.”
“How so?” Madden asked. “Has Keelin decided that she is coming tae live with us?”
Isabelle laughed, shaking her head. “Nae, our family,” she repeated again, taking his hand, and placing it on her lower abdomen.
It took him a brief moment to understand what she was saying, but once comprehension dawned, his face split into a wide smile. “Truly?”
“Truly,” Isabelle nodded.
Madden let out a shout of joy, then picked Isabelle up and kissed her soundly. “We are going tae have a bairn of our own!”
“Aye, me love, we are going tae have a bairn of our own.”
The couple hugged and kissed, with tears of joy in both of their eyes. Neither of them had ever believed that such a day would come for them given Isabelle’s history, but it had turned out that Bain Sutherland had been the barren one after all. Unable to contain their excitement, they laughed and cried together, until a knock sounded on the door. Edith poked her head inside. “The priest is ready,” she announced.
“Tell him that I will join him momentarily,” Madden replied, not taking his eyes from his future wife.
Edith nodded and left the room to deliver the message.
“Ye had best go. The priest will nae wait forever. The king was most kind tae send us one of his own priests tae perform the ceremony,” Isabelle remarked.
“We can thank yer braither fer that. His paying the Clan Sutherland’s taxes went a long way tae making the king more amenable tae our plight.”
“Money has a way of doing that,” Isabelle admitted. “I owe me braither much.”
“Ye owe me nothing,” Arran’s voice announced from the door behind them. Madden and Isabelle turned to greet him with a smile. “It is time. Are ye both ready?”
Isabelle nodded and moved forward to give her brother a hug. When she pulled back, she looked up into his face. “Ye are going tae be an uncle,” she announced.
“What?” Arran asked, taken off guard by the announcement.
“Ye are going tae be an uncle,” Isabelle repeated.
“An uncle?” Arran questioned in a daze then looked down at her stomach. “Ye are with child?”
Isabelle nodded. “I am.”
Arran looked up at Madden in question. “Is it…?” He could not finish the thought.
Madden nodded in reassurance. “It is mine.”
Arran let out a giant sigh of relief, then scooped his sister up into a hug. “I am going tae be an uncle!”
Isabelle laughed with him in joyous celebration.
“Put her down or ye will ruin her dress,” Keelin entered the room, chastising the laird.
“I am going tae be an uncle!” Arran announced with pride.
“Aye, I ken that, but now it is time fer these two tae get married. The bairn should be born in wedlock.” Keelin gave Isabelle a wink of encouragement.
Arran put his sister down. “Aye, indeed.”
Madden stepped forward and took her into his arms. He kissed her sweetly on the lips. “I will see ye soon,” he murmured. “I will be the happy man waiting fer ye in the chapel.”
Isabelle smiled and returned his kiss. Madden left the room to go and meet with the priest. Isabelle and her retinue followed behind, preparing to make their procession to the nearby church. Minstrels had gathered in the great hall awaiting the bride. Isabelle had not experienced anything like such fanfare when she had wed the first time to Bain Sutherland. It was like she had never had a wedding before. Arran had gone out of his way to make certain that everything be done right this time, that every tradition be observed. He would not have her miss out on any element of the festivities. It had been a whirlwind of love and laughter.
Arran nodded to the minstrels, and they began playing. The wedding procession exited the castle, crossed the courtyard, and made their way down the road to the nearby church. The clan’s men, women, and children lined the road to wish their lady well. When they reached the church doors, the minstrels stopped playing music. Isabelle took a deep breath to steady herself. “Are ye ready?” Arran asked, his eyes filled with love and compassion.
Isabelle nodded. “Aye, I am as ready as I have ever been.”
***
Madden stood inside the church at the altar with the king’s priest, Braden Hamilton, and Lorcan standing beside him. His heart was beating swiftly with joy and excitement. “Ye are glowing with joy like a fire on a dark night, Kinnaird,” Braden noted with a smile.
Madden turned and gave him a grin. “Isabelle is with child,” he announced to his dearest friend, unable to keep the good news to himself for another moment. The priest pretended he had not heard.
“That is wonderful!” Braden gave Madden a congratulatory slap on the back. “Well done.”
“I believe that it is Isabelle who deserves the praise here,” Lorcan noted, laughing. He also gave Madden a congratulatory slap on the back. “She deserves tae be happy after everything that she has endured.”
“Aye,” Madden nodded in agreement.
“It is a good thing that ye two already agreed tae marry,” Braden mused. “How will the Clan Sutherland take the news? Is there any risk that it is Bain Sutherland’s child?”
Madden shook his head. “Nae, it is nae Sutherland’s bairn, it is mine. He was dead before she came with child.”
Braden nodded in approval. “Good. Ye dinnae want any more trouble over that sack of shite.”
“The Clan Sutherland can dae naught about it. They are under orders from the king tae accept Isabelle as their lady, and as her husband, I become their laird. It was unexpected, but we have agreed tae it fer the people of the clan. The grand nature of this wedding is as much fer them and the king as it is fer us,” Madden admitted. “I would have married her in her mother’s rose garden without fanfare if that was what she had wanted, but the king and Arran had other ideas.”
Lorcan nodded. “Arran was quite adamant that his sister have the very best. She was denied tae much when she was wed tae Bain Sutherland. He would nae have her be cheated once more.”
Madden nodded. “I saw the entirety of the Clan MacKay outside as I walked tae the church. They were lined up on both sides of the road awaiting their lady. I pray that the Clan Sutherland will treat her with the same respect.”
Braden nodded. “There can be nae question that yer child is indeed yers in the eyes of the Clan Sutherland or they could use him tae foment an uprising. It will be a delicate matter tae keep peace within the clan. There will be those who supported Bain and will wish tae see any usurpers tae his lairdship ousted. Dinnae give them legitimacy by leaving the paternity of yer child in question.”
Madden shook his head. “There is nae doubt tae be had. Any man who says otherwise can meet the edge of me sword.” He spoke with such passion that he actually tightened his fist around the hilt of his sword hanging at his waist. His eyes challenged either of them to disagree with him.
Braden raised his hands in surrender. “I only wished tae warn ye of what might happen.”
“I thank ye fer yer concern, but Isabelle and I will weather any storm and come out the other side stronger fer it. As long as we are together, we can face anything.”
Braden and Lorcan smiled at him. It was clear to all with eyes and ears that he loved his bride to be. A rustling at the door, followed by excited chatter, announced the arrival of his bride. Madden turned towards the door and awaited his love with bated breath. Many of the Clan MacKay’s elders, fighting men and families had managed to squeeze into the limited space of the church. Those who had been unable to enter, stood outside of the door in the hopes of catching snippets of the ceremony and to wish the bride well as she entered the church to take her vows.
The priest waited silently at the front of the church, his facial expression never changing, while everyone turned towards the doors. When they finally opened and Isabelle entered the church on Arran’s arm, there was a collective gasp and she walked down the center aisle between the pews to stand in front of the priest. She was a vision, in a blue and silver gown that brought out the grey of her eyes. Isabelle smiled at Madden radiantly, as Arran placed her hand in his.
“Be good tae me sister, Kinnaird, or I will hunt ye down and kill ye,” Arran warned in jest.
“Aye, I believe that ye would,” Madden nodded seriously in acceptance of the trust that Arran was placing in him.
Arran bent and kissed his sister on the cheek. “I love ye, ye wee lassie. I always have and I always will.”
“I love ye, braither. I thank ye fer this. Without ye, I would nae have such joy in me life.” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
“Our time as a family was cut short. It sorrows me that I was nae here fer ye before, but I will be from this moment forward. I would nae surrender ye tae any other man less worthy.” He gave herhand one last squeeze, before he stepped back and took his seat.
Madden smiled down into her eyes. “Are ye ready tae wed me, lass?” He asked, his heart pounding so hard he felt as if it might burst from the joy of it.
“I am ready,” she answered, her voice steady, her eyes bright.
The priest cleared his throat. He raised his hands for everyone to settle down and be still. “We are ready tae begin,” he announced above the crowd. Once every one was quiet, he turned his attention to Madden and Isabelle. “Have ye both come here freely, and without reservation, tae give yerselves tae each other in marriage?”
“Aye, we have,” Madden answered with a proud smile.
“And ye, me lady?”
“Aye, Faither, we have both come here of our own free will tae be wed before the eyes of God and man,” Isabelle answered, her eyes sparkling back at Madden.
“Very well then, we will proceed. One can never be too careful.” He gave each of them a stern look. “Will ye honor each other as man and wife fer the rest of yer lives?”
“Aye, we will,” Madden and Isabelle answered as one.
The priest nodded in acceptance of their answer. “Will ye accept children lovingly from God, and bring them up according tae the law of Christ and his Church?”
Hearing these words, Madden turned to Isabelle smiling down into her eyes with all of the love that he felt in his heart. Isabelle placed his hand covertly on her stomach in a gesture of acknowledgment, as if to bring the growing life inside of her into the ceremony. “Aye, we will,” they both proclaimed in unison. Madden wanted more than anything to kneel down and kiss her stomach right then and there, but he refrained from doing so as he did not wish to bring her embarrassment or shame in front of all those gathered.
All those in the audience who were aware of the child in her belly smiled.
The priest, accepting their answer, nodded. “Then ye may exchange vows here before God and yer clan.”
Madden nodded and turned back to Isabelle. He took both of her hands in his, meeting her eyes with his own. “I, Madden Kinnaird, take ye, the Lady Isabelle Sutherland nee MacKay, tae be me wife. I promise tae be true tae ye in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I swear that I will love ye and honor ye all the days of me life, from now unto eternity.” Raising her hands, he kissed each of them in turn.
Smiling, with tears in her eyes, Isabelle plighted her troth. “I, the Lady Isabelle Sutherland nee MacKay, take ye, Madden Kinnaird, tae be me husband. I promise tae be true tae ye in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I swear that I will love ye and honor ye all the days o’ me life, from now untae eternity.”
The priest nodded in approval, then motioned for Braden to step forward.
Braden obeyed and stepped forward to stand between the couple opposite the priest. He took out his sgian dubh from its scabbard, and made a cut across Madden’s wrist, then turned and made another cut on Isabelle’s wrist. Madden took Isabelle’s arm with his hand, aligning their cuts one with the other so that their blood would be mixed together. Braden bound them both with an embroidered cloth of red roses that had belonged to Isabelle’s mother that had been blessed by the priest for the purpose of binding the couple together.
Madden held her arm firmly but gently. He was reminded of their first night together when he had pulled her up through the window into her room at the inn. He had seen bruises on her wrists then. She would never have to endure such bruises ever again. Madden held her eyes as he spoke the words that had been used by their people for generations. “Ye, Isabelle MacKay, are blood o’ me blood, and bone o’ me bone. I give ye me body, that we two might be one. I give ye me Spirit, ’til our life shall be done.” The ancient words resonated in the air between them, the power of their ancestors and the divine carried with them.
The king’s priest stepped forward and placed his hand on top of the cloth that joined their hands together. He eyed the crowd in stern warning. “What God hath joined together, let nae man put asunder.” He removed the bindings and took a step back. “I present tae ye, Madden Kinnaird, and his lady, Isabelle Kinnaird, man and wife.”
A cheer went up from the gathered crowd as Madden pulled Isabelle into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips. His heart was so filled with joy that he thought it might explode out of his chest. Their family and friends rushed forward to congratulate them, pulling them apart from one another in their enthusiasm. The men of the clan hefted Madden and Isabelle up onto their shoulders, led by Arran and the women, and carried the newlywed couple back to the great hall for the wedding feast.
As they walked back towards the castle, Arran and Braden tossed out coins to the children waiting on the sides of the road. The children laughed and cheered, scrambling about to retrieve as many of the coins as they could manage. Such customs were meant to bring good luck to the newlywed couple and the family that they would create together. Madden and Isabelle laughed in delight as they bounced along the bumpy road to the cheers of the clan.
Once they had entered the castle, they were carried to the dais, where they were given the seats of honor. The rest of the family joined them, and the feast began. Platter after platter, bowl after bowl of food poured forth from the kitchens. The cook had spared no expense in providing for the wedding celebrations As Madden sat upon the raised dais with his new wife by his side, and his friends who had become his family, he was struck with awe at how his life had changed. Raising Isabelle’s hand to his lips, he kissed it.
“What are ye thinking about?” Isabelle asked him, smiling up at him sweetly.
“I was thinking about how much my life has changed. I am nae longer the bitter womanizer that I once was. Having an angel fall intae yer lap can change yer life, ye ken,” he murmured with a smile, kissing her fingers.
Isabelle laughed. “When we parted company that night in the inn, would ye have ever thought that we would be sitting here as we are now?”
Madden shook his head. “I would nae have thought such a thing tae be possible. I thought that I kenned what love was at the time, but now I am aware that I didnae fully until I met ye. Yer are me life, me love, me light.”
Isabelle fought the tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. “I didnae believe that such a love was possible. All that I kenned before was misery. Ye saved me from that.”
Madden shook his head. “It was ye that saved me from a life of bitterness and disillusionment. What happened with Bain was justice that was too long in coming, nothing more. Had it nae been me, ye would have found a way tae save yerself. It was ye that was brave enough tae tell Arran the truth. Without ye, I would ne’er have changed me ways.”
Isabelle smiled up at him. “Then we both saved each other.”
Madden smiled. “Aye, I suppose that we did.”
Arran stood, drawing their attention back to the festivities around them. “I would like tae make a toast tae the bride and groom. Tae me sister, who has at long last been returned tae us, and tae me new braither. May they live long and in happiness. Tae Isabelle and Madden!”
“Tae Isabelle and Madden!” The clan cheered in response. They drained their cups dry and clammed them down on the tables. Excited chatter once again filled the room while the minstrels played lively music.
Isabelle and Madden held the other’s eyes as they drank their own silent toast. “Tae love,” Isabelle murmured, as she drained her own cup.
Madden smiled, pulling her into his arms. “Tae eternity,” he murmured, then lowered his head to drink from her lips.
***
Sutherland Castle, Scotland, Seven Months Later…
Madden, Arran, Lorcan, and Braden all paced the floor of the corridor outside of Madden and Isabelle’s bedchamber. Screams of pain tore through the air, making it feel as if Madden’s heart was being ripped from his chest. Edith, Keelin, and Cara were inside of the room with Isabelle and the clan’s healer. The healer had banned Madden and Arran from entering the room, in spite of threats of violence. It was the closest that either man had ever come to hitting an innocent person.
The coppery smell of blood filtered out from beneath the wooden door, filling the air of the corridor beyond. Madden wanted to break the door down. He was tempted to do just that and opened his mouth to ask Arran to assist in the matter when another scream tore through the air and all of the blood drained from his face.
“God in heaven keep me angel safe,” he prayed. “Dinnae take her from me.”
Another scream rent the air causing Madden to break out in a cold sweat. His mind whirled around in violent circles with thoughts of what might be going on in the room beyond the closed door. His stomach churned in fear and anxiety. He did not know much about childbirth, but he knew that many women did not survive the experience.
“What if she dies and I am nae there with her?” Arran growled in fear. “I told her I would never abandon her again. I cannae stand here and wait nae kenning what is happening on the other side of this door!” he said this last part with such force it echoed down the corridor.
Madden turned to his brother-in-law, their eyes meeting in their mutual anguish. “She cannae die, Arran. She cannae die. The thought of having tae live me life without her is more than I can bear.”
“Isabelle will get through this,” Braden reassured them both. “I felt the same when Edith gave birth tae our son. I was in the same agony that ye are both in now.”
“I recall,” Madden nodded.
“Ye were with me then and ye reassured me that all would be well, that I needed tae live in faith that all would be well.”
“And Edith made it through just fine,” Madden noted.
“Aye, she did,” Braden nodded in encouragement. “And now I have a braw son and me bonnie wife is as healthy as ever she was. The same will be true fer Isabelle.”
“Aye, the Lady Isabelle is as strong as any man among us,” Lorcan reminded them. “She survived nearly daily beatings fer years from the time that she was a wee lassie until the day that Bain Sutherland died. She is as strong as any warrior.”
“Aye, she is at that,” Madden nodded, pride in his wife’s strength filling his heart. “Me warrior wife is indeed strong, and I dae her a disservice tae believe otherwise.”
Another scream tore through the door, sweeping over them, and echoed down the corridor. All four men tensed as if ready for a fight, but there was no enemy to be defeated that could be assaulted by blade or bow. “Battle is less terrifying than this,” Arran exhaled in frustration. “At least in battle ye can kill the thing that is causing ye pain. How dae women do this?”
“Only God kens that answer tae that,” Braden murmured. He shook his head. “Edith, bless her, is all too eager fer us tae have another bairn. Had I endured the pain she endured, I would nae be in a rush tae repeat it. Our women put us tae shame.”
Another scream rent the air, then silence fell over them all. In the stillness that followed the scream, Madden’s hairs stood up on the back of his neck. He leaned forward; his ears attuned to the smallest noise coming from the room beyond. The men held their breath in anticipation, equal parts fear and excitement. The sound of a smack, skin on skin, filtered through the air, and then a weaker cry echoed across the stones as Madden and Isabelle’s bairn took its first breath. The next cry came stronger and all of the men looked at each other in relief.
“He is a lusty lad like his faither,” Lorcan clapped Madden on the shoulder in congratulations.
“Aye, he or she has nae qualms about making his or her demands known,” Braden corrected, chuckling. He leaned forward embraced Madden. “Welcome tae being a faither. Yer life will never be the same again and ye would nae trade it for anything.”
Madden grinned widely. “I am a faither.”
The door to the bedchamber opened and Cara stepped out with a smile on her face. “Madden, would ye like tae see yer wife and son?”
“Aye,” Madden breathed in awe.
His heir!
Cara stepped back and allowed Madden to enter the room. Madden pushed past her into the room to find Isabelle lying on the bed, her back against the pillows. She was exhausted, drenched in sweat, her hair plastered to the side of her face, and yet she was still the most beautiful thing that Madden had ever seen. She looked up at Madden, her face glowing with happiness, as she pulled back the blanket to reveal the wrinkled, red, tiny body of his newborn son.
“Madden, meet yer son. Me wee braw laddie, meet yer faither, Madden Kinnaird,” Isabelle murmured softly.
Madden broke out in a grin and came to stand beside his wife and bairn. “He is braw,” he breathed.
“Just like his faither,” Isabelle smiled up at him.
Madden sat down on the edge of the bed. Leaning over, he kissed his wife, then leaned down and kissed the feathery soft whisp of blond hair that scattered his son’s tiny red scalp. He heard a sniffling sound at the door and turned to find his brother-in-law with tears in his eyes. Madden smiled and motioned for Arran to join them.
Arran entered the room and came over to stand on the other side of the bed. Isabelle smiled up at him. “Uncle Arran meet yer nephew and namesake,” Isabelle introduced them, “Tavish Arran Madden MacKay Kinnaird.”
Arran’s eyes widened in surprise, as a wide grin spread across his face. “Ye named him after me?”
“Aye,” Isabelle nodded. “He is named after Madden’s faither as well. I wanted him tae be named after the best and gentlest men that I have ever been blessed tae love. Though I never met, Madden’s faither, he helped tae make Madden the man that he is today. Fer that alone, I love him.”
Arran looked down at the tiny bundle in her arms with love and awe in his eyes. “Welcome tae the world, wee Tavish Arran Madden MacKay Kinnaird,” he murmured. “Ye will always have a place in me heart and by me hearth.” He reached out a tentative hand and smoothed the babe’s downy head. “Ye will always have me protection.” Arran looked up at Madden. “How does the Clan Sutherland feel about their future laird?”
The healer, turned from cleaning her tools to answer his question. “He will be a better laird than the one we had before, and the one before that. He will be as his maither is, strong and able tae persevere through any hardship. While nae all men of the clan feel as I dae, there are many more that dae.”
“I am glad tae hear it,” Madden gave the healer a nod of respect. The healer returned the nod, finished gathering her supplies, then turned to leave. “Let us give the new faither and maither a moment alone with their son.” Nodding, all those present followed her lead and left the room closing the door behind them.
Madden, moved around to the other side of the bed and gently slid in next to her. He was careful not to jar Isabelle and their newborn son as he did not wish to cause her any more pain than she had already endured. “How are ye feeling, me angel?” he asked, smoothing the hair back from her face.
“I am tired, but I am well,” she smiled.
“Ye have blessed me with far more than any man deserves,” he informed her with gratitude in his heart.
Isabelle smiled up at him, her eyes glowing with love. “Ye deserve everything and more, me love.”
Madden smiled and gently wrapped his arms around her. “I did nae ken true love until I met ye, and now ye have given me an entirely new love, the love of a faither.”
Isabelle nestled her head in the curve of his shoulder, snuggling against his side. “It took finding ye tae learn the true meaning of love. I shudder tae think what me life would have been like had I never met ye. Falling out of that window was the best thing that ever happened tae me. It was nothing short of a miracle that ye were there tae catch me at the right time in the right place.”
Madden chuckled. “Had ye fallen but a brief moment earlier, I would nae have been there. God kenned what he was doing when he gave me ye, me angel.”
“Then he blessed us with our own sweet wee angel.” Isabelle reached out a finger and caressed their son’s tiny round cheek.”
“Aye, he did at that. He will grow tae be strong and brave like his maither.” Madden spoke with pride in his voice, kissing Isabelle on the forehead. His mind and heart were filled with more hope for the future than he had ever felt before.
“He will be strong and handsome like his faither,” Isabelle replied. “He is so bonnie that I cannae stop staring at him.” Isabelle confessed, laughing at herself. “I could remain happily in this moment forever. I never believed that I would ever be blessed with a child, and now that I have been, I dinnae want tae stop holding him.”
Madden nodded and brushed the babe’s forehead with his fingertips. “I was afeared fer ye when I heard the screams. Fer a brief moment, I thought that it would have been better tae nae have bairns, if it meant that I might lose ye, but when I heard this wee laddie cry out, I kenned that all would be well. It was the greatest relief of me life. I could nae have borne the pain of losing ye, let alone being the cause of yer passing.”
Isabelle shook her head. “Had I perished, it would nae have been yer fault. We made this beautiful wee bairn together in love, and I would nae change that fer anything, even a longer life.”
“However, the long or short of it, as long as me days are spent with ye, I will be the happiest of men. I dinnae ken how I ever lived without ye.” Madden pulled her close and kissed her lips. “Me light, me life, me love, me angel. I am forever yers, untae eternity.”
“Life is nice and peaceful now, without Rollo in it, is it nae?” Maddison asked.
“Ye can say that again,” Odhrán agreed with a contented sigh. “Me life now is so different than before ye came intae it, Maddy. ’Tis like a dream that I never could have even imagined.”
He pulled her head down and gently kissed her eyelids, then her nose, then her mouth.
“Here I am, laird of me own clan, in the King’s good books fer bein’ such a sensible fellow, with the most beautiful, clever lassie in the world as me wife—”
“Who adores ye,” Maddison put in, stroking his hair.
“Who adores me,” he agreed, smiling. “And a wonderful new family. Och, I never thought such happiness could exist.”
He was lying with his head in her lap on the grass, by their little private beach by the loch. Though it was late October, the weather was unusually clement, with a pale, lemon-colored sun peeping through the scudding clouds. Small waves slapped at the edge of the water, spurred by the chilly breeze blowing in from the distant mountains. The occasional honking of the geese now making the loch their winter home echoed in the surrounding air, adding to the birdsong coming from the trees behind them.
He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of her fingers softly brushing through his hair. He had let it grow it even longer because she said she loved it like that. She told him he was handsome so many times a day, he was starting to believe it might be true.
“Aye. They say if we have a warm summer, then the winter will be especially cold. ’Tis a good thing we have each other tae keep warm,” she jested.
“Och, I’ll be keepin’ ye warm and toasty all right, me bonny lass, have nae doubt about that,” he promised her, giving her a lascivious look, delighted when she laughed. “With Rollo gone, I have a lot more time tae spend with me wife, and that makes me very happy. Winter will be good this year. I feel it in me bones. There’ll be lots of cuddlin’ up in bed, and in front of a nice, roarin’ fire, or in a lovely steamin’ hot tub. I’m lookin’ forward tae it fer once.”
“Sounds like we’ll be busy.”
“Ye ken me, I always like tae keep active and on top of things. Especially ye,” he said teasingly. Then he stopped, entranced afresh by her beauty and sweetness.
“Are ye happy, Maddy?” he asked.
“Happier than I ever thought possible,” she assured him. “But I think it could be possible fer us tae be even happier.”
Odhrán frowned. “What d’ye mean?”
“Well, we’re happy now, with just the two of us, are we nae?”
“Aye.”
“But d’ye nae think we could be happier if we were… three?”
He sat bolt upright and stared at her. “Are ye tellin’ me what I think ye’re tellin’ me?” he asked, hope blossoming in his chest.
“Aye, I am,” she told him, giggling, her cheeks pink.
“A bairn?”
“Well, I’m nae takin’ about getting’ a new puppy. Of course, a bairn.”
He jumped up and lifted her, covering her with kisses and swinging her around, elated by the news.
“Dear God, Maddy! That’s incredible!” he crowed. “I can hardly believe it, I’m gonnae be faither!”
“Aye, and a wonderful one too, I’ll wager,” she said, her face glowing with excitement as she cupped his face and returned his kisses joyfully.
“We’re havin’ a baby,” he sang as he whirled her about, her skirts billowing. “We’re havin’ a baby. I’m gonnae be a faither! Och, wait ‘til I tell Liam and Tadgh.”
“Ye could ask them tae be godfaithers tae the bairn. Would ye like that?” she asked.
“Would I like it? Jesus, after marryin’ ye, Maddy, this is the best day of me life!” he whooped, dancing her across the grass. “Wait until I tell the council. It means I’ll have fulfilled the stipulation in me faither’s will, about bein’ married and having a bairn on the way within the first year of me lairdship.”
“Aye, I ken. That’s grand, eh? I ken ye were a bit worried about that, even though Rollo’s dead. So ye naturally inherit the lairdship,” she said, her arms around his neck.
“Aye, it’s ben botherin’ me a bit. It just seems like I got the lairdship by default rather than because I’m legally entitled tae it. Dinnae get me wrong, Maddy. That’s nae why I’m so happy. First and foremost, I’m over the moon at bein’ a faither. But meetin’ the terms of the will lays everything tae rest properly. There’ll be nae doubt about the validity of me position, and the bairn will have the best start in life.”
“Ye dinnae have tae explain it tae me, Odhrán, I understand completely. ’Tis natural that ye should care about it. I ken ye want the best fer our bairn. Besides that, ’tis a nice way tae foil yer faither’s final attempt tae undermine ye.”
He gave a small laugh. “Ye dae understand. I hope the old bastard is spinnin’ in his grave.”
“On a spit in hell, more like,” Maddison corrected drily, eliciting a belly laugh from him.
“Aye, ye’re right.” He stopped spinning and thought for a moment, his head filled with all the possibilities of fatherhood opening up in front of him. “We should get back. I have somethin’ I have tae dae.”
“Oh? What’s that?” she asked.
“I cannae tell ye, but we have tae get back, now.”
“All right. Let’s go then. Are ye gonnae put me down so I can walk?”
“Walk? Ye’ll nae be walkin’; anywhere fer the next few months, me lassie. I’ll be carryin’ ye everywhere. I’m nae taking any risks with ye and the bairn.”
“Ye great fool,” she said laughingly as he insisted on carrying her all the way back to the horse. Then, he walked the horse slowly back to the castle, making sure to lift her down again once they arrived, and carried her all the way up the stairs to their chambers, kicking the door shut behind them.
“So, what is this urgent thing ye have tae dae?” she asked.
He crossed to the bed and sat her gently upon it, gently slipping off her shoes, then removing her cloak and scarf, setting them aside.
“This,” he said, kicking off his boots and socks, then quickly shedding his waistcoat and his shirt.
He began to unfasten his trews, but she said softly, “Wait, I’ll dae that. Come over here,” and she beckoned to him. Her heated look as she drank in his body inflamed him. His member already straining at the front of his trews, he obeyed, going to her. She lifted her skirts, flashing a tantalizing glance of her stockings and garters as she pulled him between her knees.
“Mmmm, ye feel so delicious,” she murmured, beginning to stroke his back, his chest and belly, running her hands over his buttocks and squeezing them, peeping up at him and smiling with mischief in her eyes, knowing exactly what she was doing. He buried his fingers in her long silky locks and sighed.
She trailed hot kisses across his skin, following the line of hair down his belly with her fingertips as it disappeared into his waistband. She gripped the hard bulge pressing against his trews and massaged it, making him groan in pleasure.
“These have tae come off,” she whispered, slowly undoing the fastenings one by one, clearly enjoying taunting him. He was having trouble controlling himself, his whole body starting to tremble with lust. But what she was doing to him was so intoxicating, he did not want it to stop.
His trews undone, she slid them down his thighs, his member springing out in all its excitement inches from her lips. Odhrán shivered and groaned, running his hands through her hair and stroking her head when she took hold of it firmly in both her hands.
“Mmm,” she murmured, “so this is what we had tae rush all the way back fer, was it?” she asked smiling as she pressed butterfly kisses along his swollen length.
“Aye, what else?”
“I thought ye might want tae tell yer councilmen first.”
“Whatever fer? They can wait. This is far more important,” he answered, his voice a mere croak.
“Is that so?” she asked, teasing him with her tongue, running it up and down his shaft at the same time as stroking him with her hands, as he liked.
“Naethin’ more so,” he whispered, his body thrilling to her caresses as she continued to excite him with her hands and tongue, taking his length into her mouth. “Och, Maddy, ye’re drivin’ me mad. I cannae wait, I have tae have ye now,” he declared, her titillations threatening to take him to the edge of reason.
He dropped to his knees and ran his hands up her legs, under her bunched skirts, pushing her backwards and parting her legs. His mouth descended on her exposed sex like a man dying of thirst confronted by a drink of cool water, devouring her soft, intricate folds, nibling, sucking, delving into her, delighting in the moans and whimpers that fell from her lips.
Her desire for him was the greatest aphrodisiac he knew, and he would have done anything she wanted right then. Maddison gripped his head, her restless fingers tangled in his hair as he delved deeply inside her with his tongue, relishing the juices that were pouring from her.
“Och, more, Odhrán, more, please!” she begged, pushing her hips up to meet his lips, her juices flowing freely. Almost at fever pitch himself, his shaft a throbbing club between his legs, he toyed with her swollen rosebud, eliciting small screams. He slid his fingers inside her as he knew she loved him to do, opening her wider and making her ready to receive him.
“I cannae stand it any longer, Odhrán, come and fill me up, I need ye!” she cried, pulling him up, her head thrashing from side to side.
“Ye want more d’ye?” he asked huskily, his fingers still working on her until the last moment before he rose up and, in one swift stroke, thrust his shaft deep into her. “Ye want this?”
“Aye, aye, I want it!” she screamed, her legs circling his waist, her nails raking his shoulders and back as she clutched him, her body thrashing as he rammed into her repeatedly.
“Ah, yes! Deeper, deeper, please, Odhrán, I need ye,” she moaned, her biting kisses inflaming him further. He felt her muscles tensing around his shaft, and knew she was approaching her peak. Helpless now to stop the intense waves of pleasure gripping him, he thrust harder and faster into her, striving to bring her to a climax before he reached his own. Moments later, their kisses frantic, their bodies soaked in sweat, they both came to a shuddering pinnacle of ecstasy.
“I love ye, Odhrán, I love ye so much,” she murmured breathlessly in his ear as she held him close.
“And I love ye, Maddy. More than ye can ever ken,” he panted, pulling back to look in her eyes. Their face pressed together, they smiled as they kissed.
“Forever,” they said in unison, with joyful laughter bubbling from their lips.
“Please, join me in welcoming the new Laird of the McDowells, and his Lady, Michael and Kyven Gregor,” Brayden’s voice echoed across the chamber of the great hall as they stepped inside.
Kyven’s face hurt from smiling so much as she looked around the room. There was not a pair of hands that wasn’t thundering applause, nor a face not cheering. She saw many of the people she loved in a quick glance.
Helen was by Aaden’s side, as she so often was, by the dance floor. Elliot was sat on a table close by with Fiadh, his wife. In her arms was a small bairn, one so beautiful, a perfect mixture of her parents, that Kyven ached when she looked at the child.
At the back of the room were Brayden and Tynan, come to celebrate the wedding and take their places at the top table, places of honor, as the newly allied clan. Tynan was in his cups already, drinking and reaching out for a dance with the nearest lass, as Brayden finished the toast and sat down, such a satisfied smile on his face that Kyven couldn’t help warming to him even more.
At last, Kyven turned to face the man gripping her hand.
Michael was dressed in both sets of clan colors. The strips of plaid over his shoulders should have clashed horribly, but instead, they looked wonderful, a shining symbol of the union of the clans coming together. He smiled, the sharp features of his angular face softening as he turned to look at her and raised her hand to his lips. He looked ready to whisper something, but the pipers were beginning their loud music once again, a tune they had been playing ever since the ceremony had finished but a half an hour ago. Dancers swarmed the center of the floor, leaving their feast behind, eager to celebrate. The cacophonous din grew so loud that Kyven laughed.
Michael pressed his lips to the back of her hand, an intimate moment in the mad and wild room.
“What dae ye think, eh?” he whispered in her ear, trying to be heard above the raucous noise. “Is it the wedding ye pictured?”
“Nay,” she answered hurriedly. He looked concerned, but only for a second, as she was still smiling back at him. “It is more than I could have ever imagined.”
He drew her toward the dance floor, such purpose in his steps that she hastened to follow him. They lost themselves in the crowds with the other dancers, occasionally switching partners, so sometimes she ended up dancing with Aaden, other times Elliot, and at one point, Tynan, though Michael rather hastily grabbed her back at this point.
“Ye are more worried about him than ye are Aaden,” she laughed pointedly as he turned her under his arm.
“I ken Tynan,” Michael said with a deep laugh. “I think between him and Aaden, every lass here is in trouble.”
“Nay chance.” She giggled and fell against him. “In case it passed ye by, love, I just declared tae love ye tae me dying day in a church.” She stood on her toes and kissed him. “It’s a vow I intend tae keep.”
The smile that appeared on his face was unlike any other she had ever seen in his features. It made her wonder why they had wasted so much time in that library closeted away together, enjoying one another’s company, yet choosing not to tell each other how they felt.
When they were too tired to dance anymore, they retreated to the top table where Brayden sat talking politics with some of the councilors. He and Theo seemed to be getting along very well, though Brayden turned their way as they approached to talk to them.
“Well, well, congratulations, baby brother.” He stood and clapped Michael on the back.
Kyven laughed, thinking how strange it was to call Michael a ‘baby brother’ when he was so tall and broad.
“I couldnae be happier fer ye.” Brayden held tightly onto his shoulder. “But promise me one thing now. Nay more hiding from us, aye? Nay matter what yer worries, we face it as a family. All of us.” He looked pointedly at Kyven too and offered his hand. She gladly gave it to him as he kissed the back, not with intensity, as his brother did, but with reverence and respect.
“I promise,” Michael said with feeling. “Ye ken why I hid though.”
“Aye, I do.” Brayden sighed heavily as he reached for his goblet. “It pains me tae say it, but I fear in yer shoes I would have done exactly the same thing. Now, something else I must say…” He glanced around his shoulders, making sure they weren’t being overheard. “I imagine the last thing ye two want tae do is spend the whole night here. I’ll run interference with the others, if ye like.”
“How is it ye read minds?” Michael grunted, shaking his head.
Kyven laughed as Brayden simply smiled.
“Ye forget, I am yer brother. Now go, quickly, before Tynan and Aaden can drag ye both back to the dancefloor.”
Kyven parted her lips to thank Brayden, but before she could, Michael had tugged on her hand. They jumped down off the back of the platform where the top table had been raised, and he hurried her toward the door, heading out into the hall. She laughed loudly as they toppled together against a nearby wall, unable to hold in her happiness as Michael kissed her neck.
“Should we nae stay a little longer?” she asked breathlessly. “They have all come tae celebrate with us.”
“Aye, they have, but it’s time we had a celebration of our own.” He pulled her again through the corridor.
“I cannae keep up with ye. Yer legs are too long!”
“We can solve that issue.” He turned to face her, pulling her to stand, then promptly thew her over his shoulder.
“Michael!”
Yet he didn’t put her down. She could feel him chuckling warmly as he carried her all the way up the stairs.
They didn’t go to her chamber but made their way through candlelit hallways to his new chamber instead. Far away from the barracks, it adjoined her own chamber through a secret door. He opened the door and strode inside fast, reaching straight for the bed, where he promptly threw her down on the mattress. She was still laughing, pushing herself up into a seated position, when he returned to the door and locked it tight.
The fire was roaring in the hearth. The plush new bedding, decorated with wolfskin furs, glistened in the light, and across the mantelpiece were white winter flowers, beautiful in their iciness and the way they contrasted the warmth of the fire.
“Ye’ve been planning this,” she observed, nodding at the hearth.
“Oh, I have.” He leaned on the door, turning to face her with a mischievous smile.
There was a nearby meow, and something jumped up onto the bed.
“Lottie,” Kyven said with a smile as she turned to greet the cat. The kitten had grown a little bigger in the last two months, and around her throat was a trail of flowers. She greeted Kyven by nuzzling her with her head, then purred contentedly. “She is beautiful. I cannae believe ye got her just tae try and get me attention.”
“Well, it worked. Damn Aaden. He kens what he is doing with women, I’ll give him that.” Michael walked back across the room and suddenly swept the cat up in his arms. He stroked Lottie affectionately, then placed her down on the floor again. “Sorry, Lottie, but ye willnae be needed fer our next celebration.”
As if she had understood him, she meowed and darted to a small wooden flap which had been inserted in his door, zooming out quickly.
The moment she was gone, Michael’s lips were upon Kyven. She reached up toward him, pulling the plaid off his shoulders as quickly as she could, trying to get access to him.
The last couple of months in the castle, they’d had to be good, only sneaking away together from the prying eyes for the occasional moment. Now, married, they could spend all the time together in a chamber they wanted, without questions from anyone.
“Stand,” he urged. She did as she was instructed.
“Ye ordering me around now?” she asked playfully.
“Well, as the new laird, this is the only place I will order ye around.” There was mischief in his tone as he winked at her. “As beautiful as ye are in that green gown, take it off.”
Slowly, she untied the laces and slipped it from her shoulders. The whole time he watched her, that gaze hungry.
“Next, the chemise, but… leave the stockings on.”
She raised her eyebrows but didn’t question him. She let the chemise drop down and stepped out of her court shoes, leaving the stockings on.
“Come,” he urged with a crook of his finger.
She crawled back onto the bed, thinking that he was wearing far too many clothes. She straddled him on the bed, pulling at his shirt in order to get to him.
“Say it,” he urged in her ear as he kissed down her neck.
“I’m yers,” she whispered, knowing by now exactly what he liked to hear. It was a thrill to her, to know that this was what he loved. “I am yer wife now, Michael.”
He growled under his breath, in the most animalistic and seductive way. She practically moaned aloud, pleasure in her gut coiling at the sound alone.
She was flicked onto her back fast, falling onto the cushions of the bed. He knelt before her, taking off the last of the shirt then reaching for his trews. It was a sort of pleasant torture to watch him. At one point, she tried to reach up, to explore him, but he playfully took her wrists and held them above her head, pinning them to the pillow. She whined in pleasure, her body writhing. It caught his attention, and he looked down her body, gazing at her breasts and hips.
When he had nothing on, he released her wrists and placed his hands on her thighs, parting them and lifting them high. Her body was wet and ready for him, her hands shaking. She didn’t need any preamble tonight. All she wanted was to feel all of him.
He slid into her fast, without hesitation. To feel his full penetration made her back arch off the bed. She gasped, gazing up into his blue eyes as he moved slowly at first. Once more, she tried to wrap her hands up around him, but he took her hands and held them either side of her down to the pillows. He had full control, and she loved it, yet even as he controlled her, his fingers entwined with her own. There was care at all times. She reached up to him, showing what she wanted, arching her back, and he gave it to her, bending down and kissing her.
As he did so, he increased the pace of their movements. It was consuming, so fast, the pleasure reaching every part of her, that she couldn’t stop the tingling sensation that spread through her body. She felt at once that her end was near, and even though she told herself she did not want this night to be over yet, her body had other ideas.
She tightened around him, and her cries of pleasure were muffled against her lips. He moved fast still, even harder, riding out her pleasure and shifting his hands so they were flat to the pillow. He had complete dominance now, leaving her a writhing mess on the bed beneath him.
She was still coming down from her high when she noticed the sounds he made changed.
“Kyven. Ah…” He groaned and grunted aloud, the sound even more animalistic than before. He reached up, gripping the bedhead with one hand as his other hand reached for her thigh and held her leg wider. He seemed to be reaching a different part of her, new scales of intimacy, when he suddenly moaned her name loudly. “Kyven.” He bucked repeatedly into her, and she felt a warmth spreading through her connection.
She realized at once what had happened, such a smile spreading across her face as he came down from his own high, catching his weight on his elbows on either side of her.
“Michael, ye…” She was breathless, struggling to say what she felt.
“I couldnae pull out –”
“I didnae want ye tae pull out,” she said. They both smiled at the sensation. She raised her hands up around him, embracing him tight. “Just think, there may be a baby Michael running around this castle in a year’s time.”
As he kissed her again, Kyven sank into his arms, having no wish to rejoin the celebrations downstairs. She was in the best place she could possibly imagine being, with a future ahead of her that once, she had only dreamed about.
Lottie meowed at the door and they both broke off from their kiss, laughing together.
One month later…
There was no doubt in Tegan’s mind that this was going to be the best day of her life. How could it not be? She was marrying Ciarán, and they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Just a few months ago, she would never have imagined she would ever fall in love. Now though, against all the odds, the dream she had never dared to dream was finally coming true.
As the wedding day dawned bright and clear over Castle Kincaid, Tegan was a bundle of nervous excitement when Ailis, and her future sisters-in-law Lillie, Diarmaid’s wife and Lady Kincaid, and Maddison, joined her for breakfast. They were all to serve as her bridesmaids.
Lillie was a lovely young woman with a warm personality, about the same age as Tegan, and they had quickly bonded. The pair had soon become firm friends once Ailis and Tegan had settled into Castle Kincaid. In the short time the sisters had been there, the four young women had formed a close and supportive relationship that Tegan loved being a part of.
“Well, me dears, there’s much tae be done,” Lillie said with a smile, replacing her empty teacup in its saucer. “We should finish our breakfast and make a start on getting Tegan ready if she’s nae tae be late tae her own wedding.”
“Aye, ’tis eight o’clock already,” Maddison pointed out, “and the weddin’s at noon. Ye must get a shift on, Tegan.”
“What?” Tegan exclaimed. “’Tis four hours tae go. ’Tis nae gonna take me all that time tae get ready. All I have tae dae is put on the dress and get me hair done.”
The other three looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“I told ye she’d say somethin’ like that, did I nae?” Ailis said, still chuckling.
“Aye, ye did, and ye were right,” Maddison said, giving Tegan a mischievous look. “I’m surprised she’s even agreed tae wear a gown. I thought she’d be goin’ up the aisle in her usual clothes, dressed like a man!”
They laughed some more, and even Tegan could not help joining in. Then Lillie told her gently, “There’s a lot tae dae tae make sure ye look yer best fer Ciarán on yer big day. Ye want tae look nice fer him, de ye nae?”
“Of course, I dae she said, “but I’m nae used tae so much fuss bein’ made about what I look like.
“Ach, come on,” Maddison teased, “I’ve seen how Ciarán looks at ye when he sees ye wearin’ a fine gown. He can hardly keep his eyes off ye, let alone his hands.” Tegan blushed while she laughed.
“Aye, I’ve noticed that as well. But I bet it willnae stay on long when ye’re alone,” Lillie added, sending Ailis and Maddison into fresh paroxysms of quite unladylike hilarity, while Tegan’s cheeks burned.
“Wheesht, Lillie, ye’re terrible!” Ailis cried with tears in her eyes.
“Well, Ailis, I’m wed tae his braither, so I ken what I’m talking about!” Lillie answered with a saucy wink at the bride, eliciting more chuckles.
“Now, Tegan,” Maddison told her when they had stopped laughing. “Ye can relax and let us dae everythin’ fer ye. First ye must bathe in scented oils, so ye smell nice, then have yer hair curled, then ye have tae get into yer wedding clothes, and that takes a wee while, ye ken, with three petticoats, and yer headdress and all that.”
“And jewels, she must have her jewels,” Ailis put in. “And some perfume.”
“And yer shoes. Ye must nae forget yer shoes,” Ailis said, making them all laugh again.
Tegan, secretly tickled by their mirthful mood, curbed her smiles and with mock severity pretended to scold them. “Come on, then, what are ye wastin’ time chatterin’ fer? There’s a lot tae be done in a mere four hours, and yer makin’ me late fer me own weddin’ already!”
And so, the long preparations to turn Tegan into a bride began.
“I think she’s just about ready,” Lillie said at about a quarter to twelve. Tegan, who felt she had been moved about and posed like a living doll for the last few hours, had been growing increasingly excited, nervous and impatient all at the same time.
“Aye, she looks like a beautiful bride in a painting,” Ailis agreed. Then, she grinned at Tegan and asked, “Are ye really me sister? I dinnae recognize ye.”
“Wheesht!” Tegan said, looking at the lovely woman in the looking glass with amazement. “I dinnae recognize meself.”
The gown was unlike anything she had worn before, even as Ailis’s bridesmaid. The full, wide skirt was supported by a complicated underpinning, with three lace petticoats to add volume, and finished by a pale lilac overdress richly decorated with embroidery and encrusted with tiny glittering pearls. Her waist had been cinched in by Maddison until she feared she would never breathe again.
The sleeves were short and puffed, and the fashionable square neckline plunged lower than any she had ever worn before, putting the top half of her breasts on show. Tegan felt a little exposed and very daring, but she was secretly thrilled to imagine how much Ciarán would appreciate it. She admired her pretty headdress of lilac silk roses and the same pearl beads. It perfectly set off the mass of curls pinned atop her head. Her pearl earrings, necklace, and matching bracelets, presents from Diarmaid and Lillie, glimmered softly against her white skin.
I actually look beautiful! I just hope Ciarán thinks so too.
“Och, ye certainly make a bonny bride. I swear Ciarán’s eyes are goin’ tae pop out of his head when he sees ye comin’ down the aisle,” Lillie put in, dabbing perfume behind Tegan’s ears.
“Shoes!” Ailis ordered, helping Tegan to put on her embroidered silk slippers.
“There, ye’re ready,” Maddison finally declared with a last circuit of the bride. “Ye ken, ye all look lovely too, in yer bridesmaids’ dresses,” Tegan told them,
admiring them in their matching cream silk dresses, as per ancient tradition. “Ye dae me credit, and I cannae thank ye enough fer all yer help.” She air kissed them all, wanting to avoid smudging the light application of rouge on her lips.
“I cannae believe the way ye’ve made me look. I’m so grateful. I hope me groom kens who I am when he sees me!” she joked despite her nerves. They were really starting to set in as the hands on the clock crawled closer to noon.
“’Tis ten tae the hour. We must go down,” Lillie said. “Are ye ready, Tegan?”
Tegan took as deep a breath as she could in the tight corset. “Aye, I’m ready,” she replied. “I wish Faither and Maither were here tae see this,” she told Ailis, feeling sad that they were not there with her on that day.
“Ye ken they’re lookin’ down on ye and burstin’ with pride,” her sister assured her with a reassuring smile. Tegan squeezed her arm affectionately, hoping it was true.
Lillie opened the door, and they went downstairs, flanked by a bevy of excited maidservants. Finally, after moving gracefully along the beautifully decorated hallways, they came to a halt outside the doors of the great hall. There, they were greeted warmly by two smartly dressed servants. While they waited to be summoned, Tegan’s heart fluttered in her chest, and she found it hard to breathe. All she could think of was that she was marrying the man she loved.
After what felt like an eternity to her, the doors were opened, and a smiling equerry peeped out at them.
“We’re ready for the bride,” he said. Tegan swallowed hard as she looked over his shoulder into the packed room. The murmur of conversation stopped, and a hushed silence fell over the congregation. Then came a soft rustle of clothing as many guests turned their heads to look at her. The walls were adorned with colorful decorations, and a galaxy of lamps and candles cast warm, amber light over the vast chamber, lending the scene a dreamlike, magical air in Tegan’s eyes.
She stepped onto the carpet that formed the aisle, and she and her bridesmaids set off at a regal pace, as they had rehearsed several times, towards the makeshift altar at the opposite end of the hall.
When she spotted Ciarán’s tall, broad figure standing there before the minister, her heart fluttered madly, and a smile burst forth onto her lips to see he had turned and was smiling back at her. When she finally came up to join him, she thought she might swoon, for he looked so handsome in his clan regalia and fine clothing, his long dark hair caught up behind his head, revealing his sculpted features and dark-gray eyes. They exchanged loving looks, gazing deep into each other’s eyes and grasping each other’s fingers tightly.
The ceremony began, the minister intoning the service gravely. At last it came to the part where Ciarán made the small cuts on their wrists with an ornamental dagger and pressed them together to mingle their blood. Diarmaid was there to bind their hands together with strips of cloth of their respective clan tartans. Then, he pulled them tight, to form the marriage knot that would be preserved as the symbol of their union and the union of the two families and clans. When Diarmaid carefully slid the knot away, releasing them, and the minister pronounced them man and wife, Tegan thought she would explode of joy.
“Ye may now kiss the bride,” the minster pronounced. Ciarán wasted no time in taking Tegan in his arms and kissing her thoroughly in front of the assembled congregation of distinguished clan families, the allies and friends of Clan Kincaid. Tegan kissed him back with enthusiasm, pouring all the love in her heart into it.
Now married to the man she adored with all her heart, Tegan’s nerves dissipated, and the fun began as they embarked on the wedding breakfast. There were traditions to follow, of course, like drinking the whisky from the quaich, the two-handled cup that signified unity, from which the whole company must drink after the bride and groom to ensure good luck.
Then, before the feast officially opened, Ciarán had to pay the piper his due, a dram of whisky. They were then piped into dinner and thus guaranteed good luck their whole lives through. For Tegan, the party passed in a blur of wine, whisky, food, laughter, chatter, dancing, and being whirled around the dancefloor by her husband.
In between times, she sat on Ciarán’s lap, stealing more kisses, before they were eventually carried by a good-natured, well-oiled crowd, led by Diarmaid, up to their newly appointed wedding chambers. It took some time before the well-wishers could be persuaded to return to the party.
“Ach, I’ve been waiting all night tae get ye alone,” Ciarán murmured as he shut the door on the last of them and turned to his bride. He grabbed Tegan around the waist and danced a little jig with her over to the enormous bed, where they fell onto the coverlet side by side, giggling like children.
They lay facing each other, nose to nose.
“I love ye, Husband,” she whispered.
“And I love ye, Wife,” he whispered back as they stared into each other’s eyes.
“This has been the happiest day of me life, Ciarán. Thank ye, fer everything.” She stroked his face tenderly, her heart bursting with love for him.
“’Tis the same fer me. I feel blessed tae be married tae me lovely lassie at last. And now, I’m going tae make love tae ye all night long.”
“Are ye? Is that a promise?” she teased excitedly, already filled with desire for him.
“Aye. Well, maybe we’ll just have a wee nap first, eh?” he told her with a grin, snuggling close to her and wrapping his arms around her. “I must admit, I feel a wee bit tipsy. ’T’was all that drinkin’ and dancin’ that did it.”
“Mmm, I ken. I feel a bit sleepy too.”
So, they fell asleep on the coverlet, cuddled up like puppies, after a very busy, very important day. But wine and whisky have a way of wearing off. In the wee small hours of the night, when the lamp was burning low, they awoke. They wriggled out of their fine wedding clothes, helping each other with the various fastenings. Then, they lay naked, breast to breast, lip to lip, and were soon overtaken by an insatiable passion.
Ciarán pulled Tegan closer, their breath mingling together. She closed her eyes as their lips collided, savoring the taste of him as her husband for the very first time. It made her dizzy to think he was hers, and she was his.
Slowly, delicately, they explored each other’s lips and mouths, their tongues entwining in a leisurely, erotic dance. Tegan smiled into his mouth to feel his manhood already throbbing hard against her thighs, never tiring of how she loved the power she had to excite him. It spurred her own passion. She pressed her hips and breasts against him as their kisses deepened, emboldened by his need for her. He made her feel beautiful, desirable, and she wanted to give him everything and take everything he had to give.
Sliding her hands across his broad chest, she shivered to feel the soft, springy dark hairs covering it. While their kisses grew more fervent, her hands wandered across his muscular back, tracing with her fingertips the snakelike scar she had come to love so much. Intoxicated by the power and strength he exuded, Tegan’s breath quickened as she marveled at his sheer magnificence.
On an impulse, she straddled him, rubbing her moist, burning sex against his already throbbing member provocatively. She took it firmly in her hand and guided it to her entrance. Slowly, groaning deep in his throat, his eyes dark and hungry upon hers, he let her impale herself upon him. Tegan let out a small scream of ecstasy as he filled her, letting him linger deep inside her for a few moments before she began moving her hips up and down, with Ciarán’s hands gripping them, carefully regulating the rhythm of her movements to tantalize him, wanting to give him pleasure as well as herself.
“More,” she breathed, increasing her rhythm as her desire demanded. Her hands gripped his shoulders as she bounced in his lap, smiled into his eyes. Needing no second bidding, Ciarán smiled back, thrusting his hips upwards to match her pace until they were moving in perfect harmony.
Tegan moaned and thrashed as desire moved up her body in waves, spurred on by Ciarán’s groans of pleasure. Their movements quickened as they began chasing the pinnacle of their mutual passion. Finally, they peaked at exactly the same moment, clutching at each other, their lips clashing, sweating and panting.
“Och, Ciarán, I love ye so much!” Tegan exclaimed into his neck.
“I love ye too, Tegan, with all me heart and soul,” he breathed raggedly against her hair as he shuddered to a climax inside her.
In the afterglow, they lay tangled together on sheets dampened by their passion, content and sated, sharing kisses and gentle laughter. Tegan could not recall a time when she had felt so happy and complete as she did at that moment, lying in Ciarán’s arms.
“I didnae think I could ever be happier than this,” she murmured against his chest.
“Me neither, but we have the rest of our lives together to find out if we can be,” he replied with a small chuckle, kissing the tip of her nose and gazing lovingly into her eyes.
Tegan stroked his cheek tenderly. “Aye, the rest of our lives. I cannae wait.”
