Rescued by a Highlander

by Susan Payne

  Jillian had been surprised when a round wooden trencher was brought for her and the Laird to share but since no one else noted it, she accepted the food as he placed it in the trencher and pushed it towards her. Finally, unable to eat another bite she smiled and shook her head so the Laird ate the last pieces of meat he had selected for her. He emptied his cup and asked for all the cups to be refilled.

  The servants jumped up from their seats and went about the tables filling the cups and mugs again as the clan turned toward their Laird knowing something special was about to be announced.

  The Laird stood and raised his cup, then proceeded to say loudly, “Clan Macgregor, I formally introduce you to my guests, Lord Riley, and his lovely daughter, Lady Jillian.”

  The clan, to every man and woman, except for the woman who had been Jillian’s guide, raised their cups in salute. Jillian nodded her acknowledgement as did her father but did not raise their cups.

  The clan’s leader continued, “After this very short acquaintanceship with Lord Riley, I have found a kindred heart in our love for Scotland, our distrust of the English King, and our esteem for his daughter.”

  This last made Jillian almost gape in disbelief. But he wasn’t done with the surprises.

  “I have the great honor to announce that Lord Riley has given me permission to wed his daughter and become a part of his family as he becomes a part of ours.”

  At the announcement, a great amount of foot stomping and cups banging the table-boards ensued as the loyal clan wished their Laird and his soon to-be-bride well. Jillian, on the other hand, looked to her father to await his rebuke of such a calamitous claim. When he would not meet her gaze, she glared furiously at the man beside her knowing he was the instigator of such a momentous mistake. She wasn’t any man’s wife material. She wasn’t even thought of as a woman by most men she was acquainted with.

  Jillian went to stand and leave the dais when the Laird grabbed her hand preventing her removal from the table saying loudly, “And as is tradition when a clergy is not available, I handfast Jillian and we will wed when the spring and the priest return.”

  This last was met with roaring cat-calls from the men and blushes from the women as they tried to prevent their men from sending some of the more risqué messages of encouragement and directions for their leader. As Jillian tried to find a route of escape, she noticed the chair of her guide was empty and the food on her plate left half-eaten.

  Trying again to pull away, the Laird pushed his chair back with his legs and followed her off the dais. Retaining hold of her hand and then arm, he steered her toward the stairs and the passageways off it. Jillian mutinously stomped more than walked beside him as he guided her toward her room, only he didn’t stop there. They continued further on to another door Jillian was loath to enter. He pulled her into the room with him and then Jillian thought, closed the door with a sigh of relief.

  She turned towards him, demanding, “What was that about? What have you told my father that he would think this was a good idea? I wish to speak with him, alone, privately, right now.”

  The Laird turned the key in the lock, evidently to lock her in rather than to keep others out. “Your father and I had a long talk this afternoon and we decided this would be the best for both of you.”

  “You decided! You decided? Why would you decide anything about me and why would my father ever agree with a complete stranger? I don’t even know your name other than you’re the Laird of Clan Macgregor and that I don’t like your sister or whoever that is you put in charge of guarding me.”

  “No one is guarding you and you probably are referring to my cousin, Agatha, who has made her home here since my mother died several years ago,” he said banally.

  “I don’t care who or what her name is. I was merely stating facts. That I know nothing about you and surely cannot be expected to marry you in the spring or at any other time.”

  “Gawain,” he said.

  “What?” Jillian asked confused by the single word.

  “My name. It is Gawain Macgregor and I’m the Laird and have been for over five years now. The clan voted me in and I have every means to remain Laird. You will be Lady Macgregor and our children will all have the last name of Macgregor.”

  She could only stare dumbfounded. The man wasn’t rational if he thought there could be any kind of relationship between them. What could have put such a thought into either of their minds? Men. Always thinking they had the answers and must tell the little, weak female how to go on. She wouldn’t let this stand.

  “I need to speak with my father and explain how bad a plan this is. How impossible this marriage is. You don’t even know me and I can tell you – we will not suit. I am not a wife for anyone. Least of all you.”

  “Your father and I don’t think it that bad of an idea at all. We spoke for a length of time and have come to an agreement for both your sakes.”

  She should have searched her father out this morning no matter what anyone else said. She should have gone to him and made him understand that only the king could protect them from Dennis and his mad plans. She should have never stopped off in those damp woods or lost the battle with this impossible man.

  “No, there has been some mistake. My father would never have agreed to this without even talking it over with me. No, no, this is not like him at all and I’m worried he isn’t himself. That this trip as done something to his mind.” She was becoming worried as she thought the only possible answer was that her father was ill in his head.

  “I assure you, the man I spoke with was perfectly rational and made rational decisions for his life and your safety.” He gazed into her eyes to decide if she were sensible enough to speak with. “Are you ready to listen to me?”

  Jillian folded her arms across her chest. “Alright, I am listening.” But the movement merely lifted the round firm breasts up, causing the swells to show above the neckline of her dress. Gawain was finding it difficult to keep staring into her eyes and not let his gaze drop to the cleavage that was just out of his line of vision. But he must make this stubborn woman listen to reason. Not only for what he wanted, but for her own life and that of her father.

  “Your father was very distraught this morning when I found him. He realized how dangerous and perilous your position. That if it had been your cousin’s men who had come upon your camp instead of me, the outcome would have been much different. Instead of sleeping in a warm clean bed, he felt he would be in a shallow grave along the road. And you would be taken and abused and held captive for the rest of your life, even if your cousin cut it short.”

  When Gawain was sure he had her attention, he continued, “I offered my home and my protection to both of you and he assumed I meant marriage. I thought about it and found that I would offer for you. This way, he will remain safe with the strength of my clan behind him and you will be away and above your cousin’s reach as my wife.”

  Gawain wasn’t sure she believed it was that simple so he added, “I think you fighting me, the chance you could have been killed in front of his eyes made your father realize he could not protect you during an attack. Or from his own nephew if that man and his men continue pursuing you. After hearing your father’s account of what happened these last few months, I believe he is right.”

  “But I do not need protecting, he does. I am nothing, a pawn mayhap, but if my father lives, he is still Lord Riley. As long as he lives, only the King can take that away from him.”

  “You would be a pawn that would be used to control your father and you must know it. With our marriage, your father is welcome to stay here indefinitely and you will be safe from anyone trying to control him through you.”

  “I would not allow myself to be used against my father,” she stated emphatically.

  “You wouldn’t be able to stop it. Do you think even your death would relieve your father of his feelings of guilt or grief? Think about this rationally. Your father is tired and old and worried he will die and leave you in a preca
rious position. Now he has all those worries put to rest. I will protect you, protect him if need be, and your cousin will be impotent against him with the King.”

  “What happens now? I’m not familiar with this custom other than when our own people couldn’t make it to a church for a wedding. Is it different for a Laird?” Jillian was familiar with big pompous weddings of clan leaders, especially when one clan joined forces with another and people travelled for days to attend and celebrate. She would have time to make other plans before something like that could be planned and completed.

  “We go on as if we had been in front of a priest. We are legally bound and they, the clan, are expecting me to bed you and show them proof of our consummation. Nothing too rigorous I assure you, especially not for a woman such as yourself willing to die for her father. I assume you knew that would have been the outcome of our combat yesterday if I had continued to battle with you. This is much less arduous I assure you.” He smiled at his own joke.

  “I won’t do it. You will have to force me, if you think you can.” She pulled the dirk from under her skirt and held it toward him, threatening him if he were to come nearer.

  “I knew you had some sort of protection to make you so adamant you could keep me at bay.” Reaching for the blade, he sliced his thumb before she could prevent his hand from making contact.

  Gawain took his bloody thumb and made a smear on the sheets. “That should be good enough for the show. I’m no expert but it can’t be worse than that, can it?”

  They both stared down at his handiwork. Neither made a comment for a moment as they contemplated the stained sheet.

  “I, I don’t know. You did that for me? So, I, so we…,” Jillian tried to explain how she felt about his using deception with the clan to save her from going through with the consummation.

  “This should be only between the two of us. I think it a disgusting habit that should be done away with, but for some reason it is still expected that women remain ‘pure’ to be considered proper wife material. I will still need to remain here, for at least part of the night to make it seem normal.”

  Jillian glanced around the neat room with the large bed beneath the intricate wall tapestry and several chests along the wall. “But it’s your room. I should go back to mine,” she argued feeling she owed him something for his consideration.

  “To the household, this is your room now, too. My parents and theirs before them never kept separate chambers. It is a tradition I agree with. That way, a married couple has some time privately together to vent or yell or whatever needs to be done to clear the air each night.”

  “It sounds like you know more about this marriage business than I,” she confessed watching as he continued removing his clothing.

  “I had good examples. Now get to bed. The morning will be here before we know it.” He waited as she removed the outer gowns and shoes before walking over to blow out the candles. “I sleep naked and I don’t want any complaints about it.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  When he turned back to the bed, he could see his wife laying where the blood smear was with her feet flat on the mattress and her legs splayed, the skirt of her smock pulled up to her waist exposing her female delights to his eyes with only the moonlight shining through the uncovered window.

  “What are you doing now? You look like a sacrificial lamb,” he told her as he moved closer, drawn by her body as if metal to a magnet.

  “I don’t wish to be the reason for you needing to lie to your people, your clan. As you say, it can’t be worse than a prick to the thumb, can it? Besides, if I give myself to you, then it is one more reason for my cousin not to want me to wife. Even if we are not married, I will no longer be a maiden in truth,” she said as she explained her thinking, but remained staring up at the ceiling. “I am ready,” she finished stoically.

  Gawain’s body reacted as any mans would given the same opportunity. He searched for reasons to remain celibate. Give her time to get to know him, give her time to be used to being married, and give her time to come to accept her destiny. Although she seemed to have decided to set her own fate, laying there waiting for him to consummate their union.

  He reminded himself he had originally planned on bedding Jillian this night. At least his body had planned on bedding her. He had to admit he knew he could not force her to accept him as her husband and had thought he may be sleeping alone, as he was used to doing.

  He never brought a woman to the keep. What few women he had taken his satisfaction with were experienced women and widows who decided they missed the arms of a man. He never promised them anything more and always left a substantial amount to placate them in the morning when he was gone.

  But this was different. She was there offering herself to him. Even giving him rational reasons to continue to the conclusion. She would be further out of her cousin’s reach and she was willingly laying there in calm acceptance. He stepped closer and tried to decide what his answer to her request should be.

  She saw his well-formed backside before he extinguished the candle. His arousal or lack of it was out of her line of vision. She was afraid to move enough to catch sight of it in case the size made her change her mind. The men she practiced against often went almost naked in the heat of summer when the exercise of swinging the massive swords and pikes caused their bodies to sweat profusely.

  She had overheard their teasing of one another, too, and knew that the part of their anatomy that differed the most from hers grew to unfathomable size. It was used to pierce and fill women’s bodies in a myriad of ways. Many of which Jillian felt must surely have been impossible and merely men bragging to one another rather than being true. It was simply that the same stories would surface time and again that made her doubt her disbelief.

  Gawain, although his manhood had been reacting vigorously to the sight in front of him said, “Well, I’m not.”

  In the moon light, he could see Jillian lower her brows in confusion as she said, “I thought men were always ready. I mean, I know you do not go around with a man’s yard, umm, arousal, but I thought that if an opportunity presented itself, that it was involuntary.”

  “What do you know of men’s arousals? What maid knows of such things?” he asked wondering just what kind of a life his wife led before coming here.

  “I spent most of my time in the stable and bailey where the men practiced fighting and sword play. I started as most squires, taking care of the equipment and then working with wooden swords and shields against the quintain. I had to work on my strength before I could work with the equipment. That is why my arms and legs are so muscular and firm. Not soft like a woman is.”

  “I find nothing unfeminine about your body. Even with strength, you could not be confused with a male.” Then he reminded himself of their fight in the woods and his mistaking her for a lad. “Not when you aren’t covered from head to foot in male attire and chainmail, anyway.” He was next to the bed and he let his hand stroke her bare arm.

  The feel of her skin, soft yet firm under his fingers and the scent of her this close as she lay there open to him, the pink of her womanhood showing through the strawberry blond curls was working against his decision to leave his wife her maidenhead that evening.

  He found himself asking, “You’ve thought this path out then? You wish us to continue as the rest of the clan expects us to?”

  “I find that it makes the most sense for both of us. It is not as if I ever wish to marry so no man will miss what you have taken.”

  “Am I taking or are you giving?”

  Again, those brows drawn down in thought. “Is there a difference? I am willing to lay with you and, yes, give myself to you. Is there something more I should be doing?”

  Gawain lowered himself to the bed and stretched out alongside her. He realized how well they would fit together, his hips and hers almost aligned and he could still easily kiss her as they made love. But not tonight, tonight he did not want her to feel trapped or feel he was taking advant
age of her offer.

  “Why do you have your knees bent like that?”

  “I walked in on a couple in a barn and this is how she was laying. Is it wrong?” she asked innocently.

  “Not wrong exactly, but I think if you relax and lay flat, you’ll be more comfortable. We will worry about variety once we are more experienced with each other.” He stroked the bare arm closest to him and he could tell she was nervous and held her body stiffly. He felt what control he had slip away, leaving him wanting this woman as he had never wanted another.

  Unsure why she held such appeal, such draw, he decided he would become her husband even if she were not ready to become his wife.

  “Relax. I’ll not do anything without telling you first. I merely wish to calm you. If you change your mind about this we will go back to our original plan. Does that sound right to you?” he asked quietly, almost a whisper as he leaned toward her ear.

  Jillian nodded but did not release the tightness in her muscles. Gawain felt her tenseness beside him.

  Gawain continued to stroke the other arm saying, “You have silky skin, smooth and pleasant to touch. I enjoy doing this with you, laying here, and feeling how soft you are compared to me.”

  As soon as she relaxed to his touch, he stroked her bared leg until she accepted his touch there and let out a sigh as trust replaced suspicion. He let his fingers slide across the soft skin of her thigh, still bared and open to him. She tensed as he touched the soft curls on her Venus mon. She took in a deep breath and expelled it as she closed her eyes and let him continue with his exploration.

  Wanting to cover her mouth with his as he reached her most private part, he thought she would find it invasive, even more so than his intimate touch. Kissing was so personal and he did not feel she was ready to accept him in that way, yet. But as a sexual partner…. He did expect her to accept him in that manner, as long as he did not show too much desire or ask her to respond to his actions.