A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four

by Barclay, Celeste

  “Mo chridhe, I may love you too much because I doubt I will ever be able to refuse you aught. I relent. But you must remain with Ewan and Bram. If you won’t do that, then I will lock you in here and throw away the key.”

  “I promise.”

  * * *

  The sun rose behind the muted pink and purple hues as lairds and guardsmen from every clan represented gathered in the lists. Cairstine noticed the Sinclair wives were present with husbands who looked none too pleased as they wrapped protective arms around their wives various-sized swollen bellies. Ric and Isabella seemed to be disagreeing until Isa crossed her arms and rested them on her own belly. Ric threw up his hands and shook his head before they took a spot next to the Sinclairs. Maude accompanied Kieran, while her sister Blair stood between Hamish and Lachlan. Allyson stood with Ewan, and Cairstine stood between Ewan and Andrew. Her father stood in the center of the ring where Eoin and Arlan would fight. He was announcing the rules as the combatants sized up one another. Cairstine had already wished Eoin good luck with a breath-stealing kiss in their chambers. Fenella and Davina remained within the keep, their duties to oversee the meals taking precedence over the duel about to take place within the bailey walls.

  Cairstine held her hands clasped together, reciting as much of the rosary as she could remember while worrying about Eoin. When Edward stepped back, Arlan lunged forward even before Edward officially signaled the beginning of the challenge. Eoin easily sidestepped Arlan’s first attack, then the next and the one after that. Eoin led Arlan around the circle, deflecting strikes or simply moving aside. Eoin intended to let Arlan wear himself out by keeping him on the offensive while Eoin antagonized him by not engaging. He would use Arlan’s arrogance and eventual fatigue to his advantage. When Arlan’s energy flagged, Eoin would launch his attack.

  He drowned out the sound of insults being lobbed at him and his opponent. He ignored the cheers from the Gunns and Mackenzies. He’d seen Cairstine’s lips moving earlier and knew she’d been praying, but she stood silent with her eyes wide. He remained aware of her at all times, not trusting the single combat not to deteriorate into a brawl like the night before. He knew that Bram had organized the Grant guardsmen to form a wide column behind his family in case it became too dangerous and Ewan and Andrew needed a clear path to get the women inside.

  “Be a mon, Gordon,” Farlane Gunn called out. “Stop dancing like a lass and fight.”

  Eoin swiped his sword across Arlan’s arm, and crimson flooded the sleeve of the arm that would usually carry a targe. Both men fought only with swords, but it was no secret that they carried dirks strapped to various parts of them. “You mean like that?”

  If the challenge had been to first blood, Eoin would have already won, but he wasn’t satisfied with allowing Arlan to live. He’d been the reason for Cairstine’s terror for six years, and Eoin was certain Cairstine wasn’t the only woman Arlan had attacked. He wasn’t the type of man who settled for just once or twice. Arlan was a predator, and Eoin intended to put him down. Both men crouched as they held their swords before them, but when Arlan made to swing wide, Eoin stepped forward and drove his fist into Arlan’s already broken nose. Blood sprayed from it, splattering its owner and everyone nearby. Eoin leaped back before Arlan brought his sword down, but the force of his own movement made Arlan stagger. Eoin was certain the man saw stars, and he waved three fingers before Arlan.

  “How many fingers am I holding up?” Eoin taunted. Arlan shook his head as he tried to focus on Eoin’s hand. Eoin laughed as he lowered his first and third fingers. “There’s only one you need to count.”

  The crowd howled, and Cairstine blushed. She understood what Eoin was doing, but she wasn’t used to this crass side of him. She reminded herself that she was the one who begged to watch, which meant she also had to listen. Arlan continued to stagger and struggled to lift his sword. He looked ready to collapse, which would make it easier for Eoin to skewer him or cut his throat. It was obvious to everyone, and Farlane Gunn was furious. While the accepted rules required every man to leave his sword in his tent or chamber, those same rules permitted Farlane and Ewan to keep theirs as they served as seconds to replace an impaired–but not dead–combatant.

  Farlane drew his sword despite Arlan not being so injured that he couldn’t continue to fight. He shoved Arlan aside and lunged at Eoin. His father’s intervention seemed to revive Arlan, who shook his head and moved toward Eoin. Ewan turned to his father and Bram.

  “Take them now,” Ewan insisted. He brushed a kiss against Allyson’s lips before spinning around and drawing his weapon. Cairstine fought against Bram, refusing to leave. She shoved her elbow behind her and stomped on his feet. She tried prying his little finger back, but he hauled her toward the keep’s steps.

  “Lass, ye dinna have any moves I didna help teach ye,” Bram reasoned.

  “I’m nae leaving ma husband. Bram, so help me, I will run ye through before ye take me in that keep. I’m staying.” Cairstine drew a sgian dubh from her belt and twisted it in her hand, prepared to slash backward at Bram. “I’m sorry, Bram, but I will pick Eoin over ye. Dinna make me choose.”

  Bram stopped them when they reached the top of the steps. He nodded to Andrew, who was having the same fight with Allyson. Both men relented and agreed to the women watching the battle from the top step, reasoning they could still spirit them away if needed. Cairstine watched with morbid fascination as Ewan and Eoin maneuvered themselves without looking until they were back to back. It was as if the twins had an invisible tether that drew them together. Farlane and Arlan had no synchronicity, both hacking at the Gordons without strategy.

  Ewan sliced Farlane’s chest before blocking a sweep that was meant to separate his head from his shoulders. Eoin cut another gash along Arlan’s arm before dodging a thrust. The twins were easily wearing the Gunns down, and the Gunn clansmen knew it. When a handful jockeyed to the front of the circle and pulled knives, the Sinclairs formed a wall blocking the Gunns. Other clans stepped away from the Sinclairs and Gunns, acknowledging that the Gunns had violated the rules of engagement. While Eoin and Ewan continued to battle the Gunn father and son, the Sinclair brothers and Tristan, along with several knives thrown by Sinclair wives and Mairghread, forced the Gunn warriors out of the circle to where the Grants restrained them.

  With the forced removal of their warriors, Farlane and Arlan grew reckless, needing the fight to end, so they could free their men. It opened the opportunity Ewan and Eoin needed. Ewan distracted Farlane while Eoin gripped his claymore in both hands, bringing it down over Arlan’s wrists. He severed Arlan’s hands before severing the man’s head from his neck. Farlane roared with rage, but his anger made him careless and vulnerable. He raised his arm to swing, and the twins’ blades ran him through. The swords entered side-by-side, making it impossible to know which caused the deadly blow. It meant neither could be singularly blamed or charged with the laird’s death, and it left no doubt in anyone’s mind that the twins were one man in two bodies on the battlefield. It would be a long time before anyone challenged either of them.

  Cairstine and Allyson broke free and ran down the steps, each woman launching herself at her husband. The twins dropped their swords as he held their wives. Cairstine framed Eoin’s face with her hands as she pressed a kiss filled with relief and joy to his mouth. The world faded away for them as Eoin lifted her off her feet, bringing her to his eye level. They clung to one another as the crowd broke apart, and the Grants allowed the Gunns to claim their laird and his heir. When Eoin and Cairstine drifted back to Earth, they noticed Allyson and Ewan turning toward squabbling behind them. Cairstine covered her mouth to smother her laughter as four Sinclair brothers and their brother-by-marriage scolded their wives for getting involved in the fight, pointing to their bellies, only to have each wife hold up their dirk and gesture between their husband and where they had stood, far from where the Gunns had been. It was like a pantomime, but none of them realized they were the actors. The hu
sbands continued to argue until each wife grabbed hold of their husband’s leine and pulled them in for a passionate kiss that made even Cairstine blush. As the couples pulled apart, all five men stood in their imposing stance with their feet apart and their arms crossed which only made their petite wives laugh. Five feminine voices responded, “I warned you I would protect you.”

  “And I suppose that’s why you were standing out here instead of locked away safely?” Eoin nuzzled the spot behind Cairstine’s ear.

  “Precisely. I might not have your strength or your skill, but I’ll be bluidy damned if I watch you die without trying to kill the men trying to take you from me.”

  “I love you, Cairrie.”

  “I love you, Eo.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The single combat that turned into double combat did little to dampen spirits once they proclaimed Eoin the winner. The Gunns left with their tails between their legs, avoiding Laird Grant’s further wrath and another defeat by the Sinclairs. With the Gunns leaving, the Mackenzies packed and rode out with them. Cairstine noticed Siùsan Sinclair speaking briefly with her father, but there was no sign of affection, or even endearment, between the two. Siùsan nodded and turned away, not looking back as her former clan members left Freuchie Castle. Cairstine felt sorry for Siùsan, and counted her blessings that her relationship with her parents hadn’t fallen apart like she assumed it would. With no more angst over unknown assailants, Cairstine enjoyed roaming through the market with Eoin, Ewan, and Allyson, as well as Fenella and Kinnon. It made her heart swell as she watched Kinnon Campbell dote on her little sister. The man was moonstruck and happily followed wherever Fenella led.

  Once the other clans departed–save for the Sinclairs, Sutherlands, and Mackays–the ladies planned a wedding for Cairstine and Eoin. Cairstine was speechless at what her mother, sister, sister-by-marriage, and the other ladies accomplished in the space of two days. They transformed the Great Hall into a bower, with garland and bouquets everywhere. Despite the kitchens being overly taxed during the fortnight-long gathering, the staff presented a feast that surpassed even the most impressive ones Cairstine experienced at court. She feared the extravagance of her wedding would make Fenella feel slighted that her wedding, despite its beauty and the attendance of clans from across the Highlands, was less elaborate. Upon hearing her sister’s concerns, Fenella had doubled over with laughter until she choked out that the clan had secretly pledged to throw the most lavish wedding the Highlands, if not all of Scotland, had ever seen if Davina and Edward managed to marry Cairstine off. Rather than be offended, Cairstine shrugged and looked around the Great Hall, choosing to enjoy the last feast she would celebrate while Freuchie was still her home.

  * * *

  Cairstine took a deep breath as her foot left the last step leading to the bailey. The sun was over the western horizon, the soft colors in the sky a backdrop to the kirk as she moved toward Eoin and their future. Clan members she’d known her entire life separated and cheered as she and Edward made their way to the steps of the chapel, where Eoin waited for her. She smiled as Eoin’s eyes widened when he saw her in her wedding gown for the first time. She’d never felt more beautiful than she did at that moment. She’d thought nothing could surpass the feeling she had the first time Eoin saw her naked, but his clear adoration in front of so many people made her feel precious.

  When she arrived at the steps, Eoin took her hands in his, and as if he read her mind, he whispered, “There is naught in this life or the next that is more precious to me than you.”

  They spoke their vows before family and friends, but the ceremony and Mass passed in a blur for them both. They pledged their devotion to one another with a traditional cord wrapped around their wrists, but Eoin had brought the same plaid they’d used for their private handfast, and they bound their hands with that too. Cairstine couldn’t remember ever being so happy before Eoin entered her life. They’d journeyed from acquaintances who shared an attraction to soulmates with an unwavering passion and commitment. They ate, drank, and made merry until neither could wait another moment to escape to their chamber.

  “You look magnificent in your gown, but I have never wanted to strip you bare more than I do now,” Eoin murmured as he pressed kisses along her neck and yanked at the laces that ran the length of Cairstine’s back. He peeled her gown and chemise off her slowly, as though he were reveling in unwrapping a gift. He kissed her shoulders and across her chest before lifting her breasts to suckle her nipples and knead the firm mounds. He tweaked each nipple, then kissed along her belly, pushing her clothes to the floor. Eoin helped her balance as she stepped out of her gown and slippers. His hands skimmed over her legs as he rolled down her stockings. When she was naked at last, he blew cool air on her heated skin beneath the thatch of brown curls. His tongue darted out as he flicked her nub.

  Cairstine widened her feet, offering Eoin better access as his fingers slid into her core. Her head fell back as her hands clung to his shoulders to keep her steady. He worked her sheath until her knees trembled and she begged for relief. Eoin stood and stripped off his clothes before lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. He sank into her as he carried his bride to their bed and followed her onto the mattress. Their dance of push and pull brought them to the edge over and over, but neither was willing to let their first time making love as a married couple in the eyes of God end before they drew every drop of pleasure from their minds and bodies. They called out their release in unison as they clung together.

  “I never imagined I could love a person as much as I do you, Cairrie. Or that this act could be such a soul-deep connection.”

  “Eoin, I ran in every direction but toward marriage. Now I can’t picture a future without you. You’re the air that I breathe, and you’ve shown me that not only am I not broken, but I can love and be loved. But it could only ever be with you.”

  “Anaman.” Soulmates, they said together, before drifting off to sleep with their bodies still joined.

  * * *

  Cairstine and Eoin remained tucked away in their chamber for two days after their wedding, refusing to allow the outside world to intrude upon their love nest. Now Cairstine stood in the bailey with her parents and the Gordons. She smiled as she watched Fenella and Kinnon prepare to leave for Campbell land. Fenella chattered away while Kinnon patiently listened and nodded his head. She and the Gordons would ride out the next morning, and the thought was bittersweet. She was grateful that Huntly and Freuchie were only a day’s ride apart.

  Once the Campbells left, Eoin led Cairstine to the spot where Ailis’s house once stood, the place where they’d shared their most private moments outside their bedchamber. The grass had grown taller in the weeks since Eoin arrived, and it hid them from anyone’s sight unless they were on horseback. Eoin ordered the Gordon guards that accompanied them to form a wide perimeter, offering them protection without being intrusive. They spread out the blanket and food, but it wasn’t long before they forgot the picnic as they stripped one another. Eoin rolled on top of Cairstine and sunk into her slick heat.

  “This place shall always be special to us. Perhaps Ailis truly had the gift of second sight and led us here,” Eoin whispered as he brushed hair back from Cairstine’s forehead. He pressed his hips forward as he rocked against Cairstine.

  “She knew it was our destiny to find one another and fall in love. I should have known that first time we came here, and you promised to help me, that I was meant to be with you.” Cairstine gazed into the cornflower blue eyes that reflected the happiness she felt. She lifted her hips to meet each of Eoin’s thrusts, her hands gripping his backside. Eoin lifted her leg over his hip as he increased the pace, driving harder and faster to Cairstine’s moans urging him on. “More, Eo. Harder. Show me.”

  Eoin was happy to oblige as his cock surged into her over and over, his control slipping as he poured a combination of love and lust into each of his movements. Cairstine writhed beneath Eoin, her arms and legs wrap
ped around him as she met each of his thrusts with her welcoming embrace.

  “I will never tire of making love to you, wife. I can never get enough of you, of us together.”

  Cairstine opened her mouth to agree, but her release ripped through her, depriving her of all speech except for his name, which she chanted reverently as Eoin followed her over the edge. They lay together, eventually wrapped in the plaid when the air grew chilly as the day progressed. They nibbled on their picnic in between rounds of making love.

  “Eo?”

  “Aye, mo chridhe,” Eoin kissed her cheek as she stroked the back of her fingers over his temple.

  “That nightmare I had, the one with the cliff. You told me to jump, that you would catch me. I didn’t think twice before I leaped. I knew you would be there. I knew you would save me. The dream might have scared me, but it was that part that made me realize how much I love you. I trusted you in that dream, just as I trust you in real life.”

  “I will always catch you, Cairstine. But that assumes I’ll ever let you go long enough for you to fall again.”

  Epilogue

  Cairstine closed her eyes as wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her. Again. She moved her one-year-old son to her other hip as she rubbed her fist over her breastbone.

  “Mama, mamamama,” Brice babbled as he clapped his hands, a hank of Cairstine’s hair clasped among his sweaty fingers.