“Why won’t you tell me what the marriage bed is like? I’ve already told you what I know, but I want to know if it’s as divine as I hear the maids say. How can doing something like that feel good? It sounds awkward. But I admit I can’t stop thinking aboot it since my wedding is two days away.” Fenella’s giddiness made Cairstine’s head pound.
Eoin placed his hand at the base of Cairstine’s neck, his fingers and thumb rubbing the knots he had little trouble finding. Cairstine gazed up at him, relief flooding her expression. He continued to ease her tensions as Fenella greeted him, having the good graces to blush, certain Eoin heard that last of what she said. Fenella excused herself and dashed away.
“That was dreadful,” Cairstine murmured. “I didn’t know what to say. She kept pressing me, and I couldn’t come up with anything beyond ‘it’s pleasant.’ She thought I was being coy because she’s still a maiden and shouldn’t be discussing such things, even with her married sister.” Cairstine glanced around, trembling under Eoin’s touch. “Except I’m not really married, and I can’t answer any of her questions. It was hardly pleasant for me.”
“Cairrie, I’m sorry. Mo leannan, next time excuse yourself and say you need to speak to me, or give me a sign, and I’ll rescue you.”
“You’re always rescuing me. Always. I’ve done naught for you, and you do everything for me.” Cairstine stood from her chair and looked around as if she would flee. When her gaze swung back to Eoin, she whimpered and fell into the haven of his arms. She couldn’t figure out where else to go but to Eoin when she needed to escape. His arms came around her, and he tucked her head against his chest, kissing her forehead. Slowly her trembling abated, and she released his leine, not realizing she’d crushed it in her fists.
“Let’s get some air,” Eoin suggested.
Chapter Thirty
Eoin led Cairstine outside, the evening chilly but their plaids were sufficient. They walked to the gardens, where they sat on a bench and pointed out the various shapes the stars made. Eoin told her how his mother taught Ewan and him about the Greeks and all the constellations they named. They leaned against one another, making it easier to follow where they pointed. As though magnets, it wasn’t long before their mouths came together. Cairstine moaned, the sound filled with relief. Eoin swept his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she eagerly opened to him. Their tongues tangled and dueled as the kiss grew more and more urgent.
Eoin lifted Cairstine into his lap, her arms coiled around his neck. His hand inched from her hip to her breast, which he cupped. The weight of the globe in his palm released a deep groan which only added to their frenzy. Eoin shifted Cairstine, so she straddled his lap, his hands dipping beneath her gown’s hem. His fingertips grazed the back of her calves as they made their way to her thighs. The heat felt like a brand as Cairstine rocked her hips forward, searching for Eoin’s length and the friction her body demanded. Eoin squeezed her legs, massaging the toned muscles, reminding him of how he’d often wished she was riding him rather than Twinkle. He slid his hands to cup her bare bottom, drawing her closer.
“Riders approach!” A man’s voice shattered the mood, causing Cairstine and Eoin to jerk apart. As if baffled by how Cairstine came to be straddling Eoin’s legs, they stared at one another before they remembered where they were. Eoin lifted Cairstine off his lap and steadied her when her legs threatened to buckle. “Gordons arriving!”
Eoin’s head whipped toward the gates as the portcullis rose. His father, Ewan, Allyson, and an entourage of warriors rode into the bailey. Cairstine smoothed back her hair as her mortification increased. She’d been ready to give herself to Eoin in the garden, where anyone could see. It would be obvious to everyone that they’d been kissing. Her swollen lips and chin, abraded by Eoin’s whiskers, would announce what they’d been doing. The Gordons believed Eoin was only here to pretend.
Eoin noted her expression. “Do you wish for me to greet them alone? Would you rather slip into the keep?”
Cairstine shook her head. “People saw us come out here. They’ll expect me by your side. If you’re seen leaving the garden alone, gossip will spread.”
“Cairstine, we can go inside, and I can come out alone to greet them,” Eoin offered, but Cairstine shook her head.
“I can’t hide from your family. It would be rude not to be with you when my supposed family-by-marriage arrives. We must keep up the ruse.” Cairstine’s voice sounded lame to her ears, but Eoin went rigid. He cast her an indiscernible glance before taking her hand and practically dragging her out of the garden. She trotted to keep up with him, realizing she’d said something to offend—no, worse than that—hurt Eoin.
They met the Gordons as they dismounted. Eoin stepped forward to greet his brother, the embrace a genuine sign of the brothers’ affection for one another. A wave of guilt overcame Cairstine as she considered for the first time how much Eoin sacrificed to help her. She knew the twins were never apart, and she wondered if this was the longest they’d been separated. All because of her.
Eoin embraced Allyson, and Andrew pounded his son on the back rather than embrace, but the happiness to see his son was clear on the older man’s face. Cairstine hung back, not wanting to intrude on the family moment. She wanted to slink away. She’d been honest; failing to greet the Gordons would be rude, so she steeled herself when three sets of eyes swung toward her. Andrew and Ewan kissed her hand, but Allyson had been observing Cairstine and pulled her in for a hug.
“Let’s talk in the morning,” Allyson whispered. Cairstine nodded, and they released one another.
“It is a pleasure to welcome you to Freuchie Castle and Clan Grant,” Cairstine tried to infuse warmth into her voice, and she supposed she succeeded, as their guests returned her smile. “You must be famished and exhausted. Once it grew late, we didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”
“Ewan whittles worse than an auld woman. He refused to let us ride faster than a canter for fear of jostling me and the bairn, but then grew irritated—with everyone but himself, mind you—when he realized we would have to camp for another night. He was beside himself to think I’d have to sleep on the ground twice.” Allyson huffed her mock frustration until her husband lifted her off her feet and gave her a smacking kiss.
Cairstine wasn’t sure what to make of the unabashed display of affection, especially since Eoin stood coldly aloof beside her. “Please come inside. You can warm yourselves by the fire, and I will send for food and for maids to prepare chambers too,” Cairstine offered. She glanced up at Eoin, but he was looking at his family, who in turn were looking at her. She smiled but felt more like an intruder than a hostess. She missed the feel of Eoin’s arm around her, having grown used to it either over her shoulders or around her waist whenever they were together. Without looking at her, he lifted her arm and placed her hand on his forearm. It was distant and courtly, and it pained Cairstine. When they entered the keep, Cairstine ushered the Gordons to chairs around the hearth before excusing herself to make arrangements.
“The air here is chillier than I expected,” Ewan elbowed Eoin, but his grin faded when Eoin didn’t smile. Ewan glanced at Allyson, who nodded, before Ewan tipped his head to the side. The brothers stepped away, Ewan assessing Eoin’s expression and stance. “You love her, but you’ve had a falling out. Recently.”
It was one of the rare moments that Eoin regretted how perceptive they were to one another’s thoughts and moods. He nodded, then shook his head. Ewan cocked an eyebrow, and Eoin sighed. “We were in the garden together,” Eoin gave his brother a pointed look. “But she reminded me as you rode in that we must keep up the ruse.”
“It hasn’t felt much like playing pretend lately, has it?” Ewan whispered.
“No, it hasn’t,” Eoin confessed.
“You were only supposed to become betrothed. A handfast is quite a bit more. Is there reason why you might not be able to repudiate it?”
“I haven’t coupled with her, though we’ve come close more than on
ce.”
“That’s an improvement, isn’t it?”
“Nay. She doesn’t panic, but it’s only lust. I fear how much she’ll regret it the moment she feels—” Eoin closed his eyes and shook his head.
“The lass looked as stricken as you did,” Ewan pointed out. “That smile was as phony as Allyson’s courtly face. She scarpered away like a mouse with the butcher on her tail.”
“And we must retire to our chamber once you’re settled,” Eoin moaned.
“Chamber? As in the singular?”
“Aye. Her mother moved my satchel into Cairstine’s chamber as soon as I blurted out that we’d handfasted. I couldn’t very well return to the guest chamber when the sign was so clear that they expect us to sleep together.” Eoin’s cheeks heated. “I mean share a chamber.”
“They do expect you to sleep together. Isn’t that the problem?” Ewan prodded.
“It is for my bollocks,” Eoin grumbled. “Ewan, I understand now what you said before I left. I could live without having bairns of my own. But I don’t know that I can live day in and day out loving her and not being able to show her.”
“Does she refuse all affection, all love play? Her lips and chin say otherwise.”
“Nay. We nearly went too far once, but I stopped us.”
“Why? Did she grow afraid?”
“The opposite. She said she understood what was happening and wasn’t scared. But Ewan, I can’t face the chance that I’ll hurt her, that she’ll regret it. She might not have been scared then, but I hadn’t…” Eoin trailed off.
“Can you not talk to her aboot it? Be direct?”
“And if she speaks her rejection out loud, what then? We still have more than a fortnight to fake. That’ll be even more uncomfortable.”
“And when the fun and games are over, will you just wish her luck and ride out with us?”
“I’ll have to. Fenella is marrying the first evening of the gathering. Cairstine will have no need for me by the next day.”
“And how will you explain your sudden departure? Are you willing to keep yourself in Hell for a year, then walk away?”
Eoin shook his head and shrugged. “I don’t know. I fear we’ve done too good a job convincing people our relationship is real. The only thing I can think of that would be horrible enough for me to leave is if people believe I’ve been unfaithful. But I can’t do that to her. I can’t leave her with that gossip, with the women here crowing that someone lured me out of her bed.”
“And if she claims her calling to be a nun still outweighs all else? I don’t think you want to call this off. You love her too much.”
Eoin couldn’t meet his brother’s eye. He sensed Cairstine before he saw her, his head swinging toward the kitchen as she emerged with a tray filled with food. He was moving toward her before he realized his feet were in motion. He lifted the heavy tray out of her hands and carried it to the table by the fire. Ewan observed him, and Eoin knew what his brother was thinking. You’re facing a life of loneliness or a life of celibacy. Cairstine unloaded the tray before spinning around to return to the kitchen.
“We’ll figure it out, little brother,” Ewan clapped him on the shoulder, his hand giving him a squeeze. “We always do.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Cairstine’s head hurt more than it did when Fenella bombarded her with questions. The pain throbbed behind her eyes and sweat broke out on her brow as she returned to the Gordons. She attempted to be gracious, but she feared she’d be ill in front of them. Regret over her remarks in the garden, fear of what Eoin’s remoteness meant, and nervousness around the Gordons was a strain she struggled to bear. She sat, pretending to listen, as Eoin’s family filled him in on the latest clan news. Cairstine caught Allyson’s eye more than once, and Allyson offered her a sympathetic smile. Cairstine feared it was pity at first, but there seemed to be a level of understanding.
Eoin was eager for news from home, since he’d forced himself to ignore his homesickness and how much he missed Ewan. It was like someone amputated a limb, and he had phantom pains. Seeing his brother again and speaking with him helped more than Eoin expected. He didn’t regret coming to help Cairstine, but the tenuous situation only exacerbated how much he missed his family, his home, and his clan. While he listened to his family chatter about new livestock born while he was away and the antics of the clan’s youngest members, he kept Cairstine in the corner of his eye. While she appeared the picture of hospitableness and serenity, he felt her discomfort as though it were his own pain. When she blinked for too long, then moved to raise her hand, as though she might rub her head but forced it down to her side, he grew worried. When he noticed Allyson offering a sympathetic smile to Cairstine, he knew she’d reached her limits. He seized a momentary lull.
“I’m sure you’re all tired from spending the day in the saddle. Allyson, perhaps you’d care to retire?” Eoin knew Ewan would never let his wife go to a chamber alone in a keep that wasn’t their own. At least not until he was convinced of her safety. Andrew looked tired as well. He was still fit and a worthy opponent in the lists, but he didn’t enjoy interminable days of riding anymore. Allyson took the hint immediately and reached her hand out to Ewan, who eased her from the chair. She wasn’t nearly far enough along to need assistance, but they seized any opportunity to touch. Eoin turned to Cairstine, who’d stood when his family did, but her pallor had gone gray.
“I’ll tidy up here.” Cairstine couldn’t bear to speak louder than a whisper.
“No, you won’t. You’re not well, Cairrie.” Eoin spoke just as softly, suspecting Cairstine’s head pained her. She barely nodded as she turned toward the stairs. Her hand grasped the back of a chair to steady her, and Eoin sensed she was dizzy. He didn’t hesitate to scoop her into his arms and carried her to their chamber, requesting a dram of whisky as they passed a servant. He placed her on the mattress, then kneeled to ease her slippers off. “Cairrie, I’m only taking your stockings off, leannan.”
Eoin slipped his hands under her skirts and hastily rolled them down. He pulled her arisaid more tightly around her shoulders as she sat with her eyes closed. He rushed to the door when the servant arrived with the whisky. He returned to the bedside and sat next to Cairstine.
“Take a sip for me,” Eoin kept his tone hushed, but Cairstine shook her head, wincing at the movement. “Please, Cairrie. You’re worrying me.”
Cairstine heard the anxiousness in Eoin’s voice and turned to see anguish in his eyes. She reached for the glass and threw back its contents, the burn reviving her, if only for a moment. It didn’t take away the pain that felt like her head were being struck like an anvil. “I’m fine, Eo. I’m just very tired. I’d like to go to sleep.”
Cairstine laid down then rolled over, not bothering to remove her kirtle. Eoin was at a loss for what else to do. He covered her with an extra plaid, tucking it around her feet before taking a seat in a chair. He was weary, but his concern for Cairstine wouldn’t let him sleep. He remained there as he listened to Cairstine’s rhythmic breathing. When her soft snores convinced him she was well, his eyes drooped closed.
* * *
Cairstine ran through a never-ending forest, searching and calling for Eoin, but she couldn’t find him. She could hear whoever chased her crashing through the trees, heedless of what stood in their way while Cairstine weaved through the trees, trying to evade her pursuers. She knew her screams only made it easy for her attacker to follow her, but she just needed to reach Eoin. If she could find Eoin, she would be safe. She was certain nothing could ever hurt her if she were with him.
Why can’t he hear me? Why hasn’t he come for me? Cairstine ran until she reached a cliff, a steep drop to a loch that would surely kill her. She spun around, searching for an alternative, but instead of escape, four faceless men closed in upon her. She heard her name. “Cairrie! Cairrie, jump. I’ll catch you. Trust me.” Cairstine recognized Eoin’s voice with the first sound of her name. She looked over the edge of the cliff
and spotted Eoin standing on a precariously narrow ledge, much like the ones they rode along as they passed through the Cairngorms. “I’ll catch you.” Cairstine didn’t look back, leaping off the cliff, her kirtle billowing around her as she sailed through the air. For a moment, it felt like time was suspended, and she floated like a cloud. Then the next, she was plummeting to her certain death. As she opened her mouth to scream once more, she felt muscular arms cradling her against an equally muscular chest. "Eoin. Don’t leave me. Hold me forever.”
Eoin woke to the sound of Cairstine screaming his name. He reached for his sword resting against the chair, prepared to run through whoever was torturing her. She screamed his name again, begging for him to find her. He dropped his sword and ran to the bed where Cairstine’s arms and legs thrashed as though she were trying to run from something or someone. Then she suddenly went still when he swept her into his arms. He strained to make out her words, but he was certain he understood. “Eoin. Don’t leave me. Hold me forever.”
“I won’t, mo chridhe. I promise.” Eoin called her his heart as he rocked Cairstine and cooed to her until her eyes fluttered open. He kept her pressed against his chest as his hand rubbed circles over her back. “You’re safe. I’m here, Cairrie. I’m not leaving you. I’ll hold you forever.”
Eoin knew he wasn’t exaggerating. He would hold Cairstine forever if she’d let him. He had to find a way to make their pretend handfast into a true marriage. If I have to go down to that bluidy loch every night until I’m an auld mon, I will. He watched as recognition flared in Cairstine’s eyes, recognizing he repeated the words she’d mumbled. Her eyes drifted closed once more, and Eoin realized she’d fallen back to sleep, but when he tried to release her, she clung to him so tightly, that his leine nearly choked him. He slid beside her, and just like the last time he’d shared her bed, she nestled against him like a kitten.
A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four Page 22
