His Highland Surprise (The Clan Sinclair Book 1)

by Celeste Barclay

  She reached the door as a clatter and then crash rattled on the other side. She unlocked the door and flung it open. There stood a naked Tavish with the chair turned over and the water basin smashed next to the table he managed to knock over.

  “Where were ye?” he barked.

  Ceit entered the room briskly and took him by the good arm, intending to take him back to bed. But Tavish would not budge.

  “Answer me, woman.” Ceit stared at him when he used a tone she had never experienced before. There was anger unlike she had ever witnessed in him. She intuited it might be worse than when he discovered her at Crichton.

  “I stepped out for a moment.”

  “A moment? Ye call nearly half an hour a moment. Och aye, I watched the door close but couldnae muster the strength to climb out of bed. However, ye didna measure yer tincture vera well because it wore off. I laid in bed hoping ye would return any minute, but nay. Nae a hint of where ye’d gone or when ye would be back. Where did ye sneak off to?” Tavish glared at her through feverish eyes. “Who’d ye run off to?”

  Ceit gasped but tried to remind herself that his ranting and raving resulted from the fever.

  “Answer me, Cathryn.”

  Ceit took in her towering husband who was veritably trembling with anger. He had never called her by her full given name. She did not like it at all.

  “Tav, will ye please get back into bed before ye do yerself a mischief. I will tell ye all once ye have.”

  He grasped her arms and pulled her off her feet. Even injured and ill, he was a powerful warrior who Ceit was no match for. He was not her loving husband in that moment but a man on the edge of becoming a berserker. She placed her hands on his shoulders and took a breath.

  “I went to find yer uncle to tell him we canna travel tomorrow. I took a little longer than I expected to meet up with him.”

  “That doesnae explain the blood on yer gown or why I can smell another mon’s scent on ye. And dinna tell me it’s ma Uncle Hamish’s cause it’s nae. He sneezes whenever he’s near pine.” He pulled her against his scorching body. “Answer me, Cathryn. I swear to ye this willna go well for ye if ye dinna tell me the entire truth now.”

  “Vera well. I amnae hiding aught. I ran into Lady MacAdams and Lady Gordon along the way. We had a rather terse exchange of words.”

  Tavish lowered her but only her tip toes touched the ground.

  “And ye gutted one of them? Try again. The blood, Ceity, why is there blood on ye? I ken it isnae yers. Ye dinna look to be in any pain, but it is someone’s.”

  Ceit breathed a sigh of relief when he bellowed the name she preferred Tavish to use, but she heard fear.

  “Brodie, I ran into ma uncle’s second. He attacked and wanted to kill me.”

  Tavish let go so abruptly Ceit stumbled backwards. He reached out to catch her, but his reaction was too slow. She landed hard on her backside.

  “Ceit!”

  Tavish pulled her to her feet and wrapped himself around her.

  “I’m sorry, mo ghaol. I didna ever mean to hurt ye. I’m so sorry.”

  “I ken, Brodie. It was an accident. I amnae upset.”

  “I was too rough with ye. I’m sorry.”

  “I ken. It’s all right.”

  “Nay it’s nae, but I will make it so.”

  Tavish pulled his plaid around his waist and lifted his sword from beside the bed.

  “Where are ye going?” Ceit dashed in front of the door.

  “Move out of ma way, Ceit. I willna manhandle ye again, but I will go through that door.”

  “To what point? I already killed the mon.”

  Tavish stopped and stared at her. He wilted before her eyes, and she rushed to catch him as his sword clattered to the floor.

  “Then ye arenae in danger anymore. The mon who dared touch ye is dead, and ye killed him.”

  “Aye. Brodie, please get back into bed. Ye’re scaring me.”

  Tavish looked at her as he reared back. He stumbled backwards until he was at the bed. He sat down and cradled his head in his hands. Ceit ran her hand over his back soothingly.

  “Dinna. Dinna come near me. I have already hurt ye. I dinna want to again, and I dinna want to scare ye anymore. Ye arenae safe with me.”

  “Haud yer wheesht, ye daft mon. The only thing scaring me is that ye will keel over dead if ye dinna get back into bed.”

  “But I—I--”

  “Am a mon who is ill but loves his wife and doesnae like being useless. I understand. I am sure, unfortunately, that there will be more than enough time over the next three score years or so for ye to protect me. It just wasna today.”

  “But--”

  “Enough, Tavish. Leave off and get into bed before I skelp ye. Ye are the worst patient. Ye’re worse than yer brother, and he was far more injured.”

  Tavish laid back on the bed as Ceit adjusted the pillows and blankets.

  “Ye sound like ma mama did.”

  “Stop acting like ye need a mama, and I will stop sounding like one.”

  Ceit mixed another tincture with a greater dosage of herbs.

  “Dinna argue with me.”

  Tavish nodded and swallowed the brew without complaint.

  “I dinna much care for ye calling me Tavish.”

  “I dinna much care for ye calling me Cathryn.” She loosened her laces and pulled her gown then chemise off. She stripped down and walked towards Tavish.

  “What are ye doing, mo sheillean beag?” he murmured.

  “Tending to ma husband, mo dhìonair. Ye told me I wouldnae need any night clothes, and I amnae aboot to climb into bed with ma regular clothes on, so off they came.”

  She crawled in next to him, and he rolled towards her. He reached out a hand but pulled it back before he touched her.

  “Dinna be ridiculous. I dinna have the patience for it right now.” She took his hand and placed it on her breast.

  Tavish groaned with her beneath his palm. Half of his body came to life, but the other half was sluggish and far too hot. His eyes drooped as sleep forced its way over him.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The next four days were tortuously slow for Ceit. Tavish was in and out of consciousness as his fever raged higher by the day. She tended him with every resource she had at her disposal, requesting help from Lady Sutherland to gather additional herbs. The king learned of Tavish’s illness and sent his own physician, but when the man insisted upon bleeding Tavish, Ceit chased him from the chamber brandishing Tavish’s sword. She barely had the strength to lift it, but the doctor came to a quick realization that she was serious in her defense of her husband.

  Ceit laid cold cloths on his body, and when he was lucid enough to get himself in and out of bed and the tub, she bathed him in cool water. Nothing seemed to help bring down the fever. She increased her dosages again but feared doing more harm than good if she gave him too much. She fretted and turned away food trays sent for her, keeping only the broths intended for Tavish. She helped him sip them until he no longer managed to stay awake long enough to drink more. She prayed more than she ever had before. She prayed to Jesus, Mary, God, any saint she recalled, and all the angels she remembered. She prayed that at least one of them would listen to her.

  On the fifth day, she was fed up of being grimy and sweaty from tending him. She ordered a hot bath and allowed herself time to soak. The brief reprieve was like heaven had met her on Earth. She scrubbed her body and hair with her favorite soap, breathing in the calming scents. She wiped the water from her face after rinsing her hair and screamed.

  “That wasna quite the response I was hoping for, wife.”

  “Tavish, what are ye doing out of bed?” She hopped from the tub and reached for his forehead ignoring her soaking wet body that was leaving a pool of water at her feet.

  Tavish pulled her to him and groaned as her dripping form melded to his.

  “I was hungry enough to eat the twelve apostles when I woke, but I find I am hungry for something ve
ra different.” Tavish lifted her and pulled her legs around his waist. She moaned as her sheath rubbed against the tip of his cock. Together they adjusted, and Tavish sunk into her. Her mewls of pleasure blended with his groans. He walked them to the wide chair next to the tub and sat down. Straddling him, he had easy access to her breast. He feasted on them like the starving man he was. Ceit held them to him as his hands gripped her bottom. They set a punishing rhythm that had them both shouting their release only minutes after starting.

  “I would have made that last longer, but I couldnae.” Tavish kissed the tip of each nipple before finding her mouth.

  Ceit sucked his tongue into her mouth and had her own feast. Tavish thrust up as he hardened again.

  “How long has it been, Ceity? I canna seem to get enough of ye, but I canna seem to last long either.”

  They moved together once again, both coming apart with ease. Tavish wrapped his arms around Ceit’s still wet back and rubbed his hands on her shoulders.

  “Today marks day five since yer fever started.”

  “Ye mean I have been asleep for four solid days?”

  Ceit sat back and looked at his astonished face.

  “Ye dinna remember any of the times ye woke?”

  Tavish shook his head but stopped when he noticed something on Ceit’s arms. There were matching bruises in the shape of fingertips. He looked up at her and had a tingling sensation that made him guess he would be ill after she told him what happened.

  “It’s naught,” she whispered.

  He deduced from her eyes she was trying to spare him. It was not the look of a person hiding something.

  “I did this?” he whispered, so that Ceit had to read his lips.

  “It was an accident, Brodie.”

  “An accident doesnae leave fingertip bruises from gripping too hard.” His throat was so dry suddenly that his voice sounded like little more than a croak.

  “Mo chridhe, I stepped out of the chamber while ye slept. Ye awoke and didna find me here, and ye panicked. When I returned, ye were vera upset and worried. Ye didna mean to grasp ma arms so hard. Ye were already vera ill, and yer fever was raging.”

  “I hurt ye,” the bile rose in his throat. A memory floated back to him. “I lifted ye up by the arms, but I set ye down too hard, and ye fell. Ye fell because I was too rough with ye.”

  Ceit tried to reassure him, but he set her aside and dashed to the basin. He vomited the little broth left in his stomach. He heaved several more times while her slender arms wrapped around his waist. When he settled his stomach enough to no longer gag, she passed him the chalice of water. He shook his head and braced his hands on the table as he continued to lean forward. His shame was too great.

  “Brodie, look at me,” she begged, but when he refused to turn his head, her voice came out with an edge, “look at me, dammit. I amnae going to have ye blaming yerself for what happened when ye were ill. I didna spend the last four and a half days glued to yer bedside trying to heal ye only to have ye turn away from me. I willna have it.”

  Ceit crossed her arms and stomped her foot. She was shaking with anger and cold. Tavish looked up and saw the goosebumps on her.

  “Bluidy hell.”

  He walked to the bed and snatched his plaid from it before returning to wrap her in it. He rubbed her back and arms careful to avoid the bruises.

  “They dinna hurt, and I amnae easy to break. It is over. I wasna angry then, but I will be if ye dinna let sleeping dogs lie.”

  Tavish looked down at his wife’s determined face in awe of how she forgave him when he was not willing to even consider forgiving himself.

  “I love ye. I love ye with everything I am, Brodie. I ken it’s the same for ye. If ye didna, ye wouldnae have pulled yerself out of bed to look for me, ye wouldnae have been so upset when I came back. Ye wouldnae have been willing to stalk out of here bare as a newborn bairn with only yer sword to keep ye warm,” she ended with a grin. “If ye didna love me, ye wouldnae have done any of that.”

  “But ye dinna hurt the ones ye love.”

  “If ye dinna cease, I will hurt ye.”

  “Ye arenae vexed with me? Nae scared of me?”

  “The only time I’ve ever feared ye was when I was sure ye would keel over because ye wouldnae get back into bed.”

  Tavish nodded and took a deep breath before blowing it out with a shudder. He gave her a weak smile, and she pulled her arms free to encircle his waist.

  “I told ye I was hungry enough to eat the twelve apostles. Ye have satisfied one of ma hungers, or at least made it a dull ache, but ma stomach is eating me from the inside out.”

  “I will summon more broth for ye.”

  “Broth? Nay wonder I’m starved. I canna live off broth. I need real sustenance.”

  “Ye have just gotten over a four long day fever. Ye canna have aught more than broth.”

  Ceit crossed her arms and spread her feet apart, a miniature replica of how Tavish and his father and brothers stood. Tavish hooted with laughter at the determined look on her face. He bent at the knees and swept her over his shoulder, tapping her backside, as he stalked towards the bed. She squeaked when he dumped her onto the bed making her bounce before he dove on to the bed and covered her with his body.

  “It seems ma stomach can wait, but ma cock canna.”

  “Ye canna be serious. Ye were unconscious nae even an hour ago.”

  “I must satisfy ma hunger somehow. If ye willna let me have meat, then I shall feast on honey.”

  Ceit squealed as she tried to scramble off the bed. Tavish pinned her down, but rather than continue to seduce her, he tickled her. Ceit shrieked with laughter at his unexpected playfulness after being so somber only moments ago.

  “I’m happy ye’re laughing, Ceity. It sets me at ease.”

  Tavish rolled onto his back, and Ceit propped herself on her elbow to look at him.

  “I was scared, Brodie. I was so scared I would lose ye. It was the same as before. The weight that crushes ma chest and makes me sure I’ll never be able to catch ma breath again.”

  “Och, mo sheillean beag. I dinna mean to make ye fash over me.”

  “Just as ye do with me, I will always fash when it comes to yer wellbeing. I love ye.”

  “I love ye, too.”

  Tavish opened his arms, and Ceit draped herself across his chest. They remained like that until neither was able to ignore their rumbling stomachs. They dined together before retiring to bed. They fell asleep wrapped in one another’s arms in a bed at night for the first time as a married couple.

  Morning came far too soon for them both, but Tavish seemed his old self. He was able to convince Ceit that he was well enough to travel even if he sensed her hesitation. They ensured they packed all their belongings, and their saddlebags had their essentials before they left their chamber to break their fast.

  They entered the gathering hall, and numerous eyes turned towards them as they had last time. They walked with their hands entwined, Tavish’s thumb grazing her palm.

  They moved towards the Sutherland table when a woman stepped in front. Ceit wanted to scream. She was not in the mood to deal with another ghost from Tavish’s past.

  “You were most unwell, Tavish,” cooed the beautiful blonde with curves that made her worry about being flatter than a lad.

  “Ma wife tended me back to health,” he lifted Ceit’s hand and kissed her knuckles.

  “How fortunate you found a lass so capable of being a nursemaid.” The cutting remark sank deep into Ceit’s heart and only made her insecurity flare.

  “Lady Forbes, I promise ye what ma wife does to tend me isnae what any nursemaid does.” Tavish looked down at Ceit and winked, “and I count maself the luckiest mon for that. I’d be quite the lecher if I chased a nursemaid aboot like I do ma wife.”

  Ceit watched as Lady Forbes drew in a deep breath that made her bosom overflow from her dress, and when she leaned forward, Ceit was sure she saw the top of her nipples. To Tavish�
�s credit, Ceit noticed he was looking at her rather than the shameless woman.

  “How charming you both are. Quite the picture of love. But she seems rather small for a man of your large--” her eyes skimmed down to where Tavish’s sporran rested, “appetites. Whatever shall you do when you find yourself still hungry?”

  “It’s a vera good thing I will never get ma fill of ma wife. If ye will excuse us, we shall bid farewell to the king and queen before I take ma wife for another ride.”

  Tavish skirted Ceit around the tables as she tried to compose herself.

  “I’m flabbergasted ye told that woman ye are on the way to bedding me.”

  “Well, I am.”

  “I was under the impression we were leaving as soon as we finished eating.”

  “Och, I’d have ye under something alright. Me. And all that talk of ma appetites and chasing ye aboot has made me hungry for something other than bannocks though I plan to have some honey.”

  “Incorrigible.”

  “And just how ye like me.”

  “That is rather true.”

  Tavish stepped to the side of the room and backed Ceit towards the wall, shielding her. He kissed her passionately as he shared his love that grew with each moment and in turn received hers. She clung to his leine as their tongues battled one another.

  “Dear heavens, would you please stop mauling your lady wife in front of the entire court? The show is meant to come with the evening meal not first thing in the morn.”

  Tavish pulled away at the sound of the king’s voice, and Ceit buried her burning face in his chest.

  “I shall bear that in mind. Perhaps after I thank the mon who arranged our marriage.”

  “Point well taken, lad.” Tavish turned but kept Ceit tucked behind him. “I am glad to see you recovered. You had many of us anxious. I feared your bride might worry herself into an early grave. She cannot afford to skimp on meals after nearly five days of fasting. Let the poor lass eat.”

  “I shall do just that, Yer Majesty.”

  They bowed and sat with the Sutherlands. The rest of the morning meal was uneventful, and both Ceit and Tavish were glad to ride through the gates surrounded by Tavish’s extended family.