Rubina smiled down at him, a sweet, soft smile that glowed with light. The same light, it seemed, that had taken up residence in his chest.
“You silly man,” she said. “Silly me! We have been so foolish. So blind.”
“I loved you the moment I saw you,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I never stopped. I just thought you hated me.”
“And I felt the same! Oh, Camden. Can you believe what fools we've been?”
“Yes,” Camden grinned. “I can. I think we are not the only such. People believe in many things but somehow they don't want to believe that they're loved.”
Rubina nodded, slowly. “You are right, my dear. You are right.”
“Well, then,” he said. He lifted her pale, soft hand to his lips. It was scented with roses and the skin was warm under his lips. He could have spent a lifetime kissing it. He looked up at her, reluctantly removing his lips from the back of her hand. “Well? Do you reckon we could promise something?”
“I reckon. What will we promise?” Rubina asked, stroking pale hair out of her eye to see him clearer.
“We will promise that from this day hence, we will know one truth. That I love you, and you love me. We will promise never to doubt it again.”
“Yes!” Rubina smiled ecstatically and squeezed his hand. “No matter how cross I sometimes get.”
“And no matter how confused I am.”
“Yes!” Rubina chuckled. “I promise.”
“And I promise too.”
When they sat back and looked at each other, it felt different. Solemn. As if they had taken a vow, just then. It was a vow. One more personal than those they took all those days before. It was their vow to each other.
Camden let out a long sigh.
“Well, then,” he said.
“Well, then.”
He looked into her eyes. Ringed with gray, weary but tender, her eyes shone with light. He smiled and, very slowly, lifted himself up on the pillows.
“I would kiss you,” he said gently. “But I'm not sure if I'll break if I try and sit up.” His head was throbbing and just the small motion had brought a stab of pain to his leg.
She laughed. “I assure you that you won't,” she said. “You'll mend properly. But all the same, it seems that I must come to you.”
She bent down then and, to his utter wonderment, her lips grazed his. They pressed together and he gently let his tongue glide across the line between their plump warmth. Then, when she sat back, there was a new sheen in her eyes.
“Get well, Sir Camden,” she said. “I declare I need you well before the week's out.”
Camden stared at her and let out a peal of laughter. “I cannot promise that, milady,” he said. “But I can pledge to try.”
“Good,” she said. “I will do all I can to help in that endeavor.”
They both laughed. It was a contented laugh, warm and soft.
After a moment, Rubina stood and went to the door. “Barra?” she called.
“Yes, milady?”
“Will you go to the kitchen, please? And fetch a bowl of broth. And some bannocks? My lord is awake.”
“Yes, milady!” the woman's voice sounded relieved and happy.
“Oh, and Barra?”
“Yes?”
“Bring enough for two, please. I find I have quite an appetite this morning.”
“Yes, milady.”
Camden and Rubina sat and broke their fast together. It was a slow, sweet, contented time.
“Camden?” Rubina asked. She was sitting beside the bed, crumbs from a bannock clinging to that full, dark red lip.
Camden smiled and resisted the urge to reach out and wipe them off. She looked so sweet. He couldn't suppress the grin, however.
“What?” she said.”
“You have some crumbs stuck on your lip,” he said with a soft smile. She laughed.
Gently, he reached forward and wiped them away. She kissed his fingertips. His whole body tensed.
“Milady,” he said guardedly.
“Yes?”
“I'm afraid to say that I might have to break a rule here.”
“Oh?” she looked cautious.
“I'm sure there are rules about conduct in the infirmary. But your closeness is making me want to break every one of them.”
She stared at him. Then she laughed.
“Sir Camden,” she said, setting aside her plate and leaning forward. “I think that I should insist on rest. But you make it very difficult for me to demand rest from you.”
She leaned forward and their lips met. He had finished his gruel and she slowly and deliberately set aside the tray. He found himself held against her chest, her arms around him, looking into her brown eyes.
“Camden McInvering,” she said, softly and deliberately. “You will simply have to get well.”
Camden laughed. “I will do my best, my lady.”
“Is that a promise?”
“It is, my lady. To the best of my powers.”
She smiled at him. “Good.”
He felt the need to sleep overwhelm him. He was aroused by her presence but it seemed his body had not the energy to act on his impulses, or at least, not yet. With her arms around him he felt his eyelids droop and, his hand on her waist, his other hand in hers, he felt himself drifting into sleep.
He would, he thought just before he slipped into deep sleep, simply have to get well. There were too many reasons why. He couldn't live without her.
A MARRIAGE IS CONSUMMATED
Rubina walked into the sickroom. It was two weeks after Camden had been found. He was propped up on the pillows and he smiled at her.
“Good morning!” she said, feeling happy just to see him. “You said you had something to show me?”
He nodded. “I did.”
She watched in amazement as, shifting to the edge of the bed he put his foot down and carefully put his weight onto it. He was standing. Holding onto the post of the bed, he took a slow, lurching step. Then another. He was walking.
“Camden!” Rubina clapped her hands onto her cheeks in amazement. “My dear! That's remarkable!”
It was remarkable. With the extent of the burn wounds to his legs, she would never have expected him to be able to walk after so short a time. The burns were still partly open, though some of the weeping, angry flesh was white-pink and puckered round the edges where the burns were starting to heal.
“I could go downstairs, almost,” Camden said.
“Whist!” Rubina chuckled, walking over to stand beside him. “No, you mustn't. I'm not letting you do anything foolish until that skin has healed over. You're precious to me, Camden.”
He was a hand's breadth away from her. Close enough for her to see his eyes widen and then narrow in surprise.
“I am?”
The melting look of surprise on his face tugged at her heart. She chuckled.
“Yes,” she said and, slowly and tenderly, she leaned forward. He must have had the same thought. He leaned against her and, warm and tender, their lips met. She breathed out sharply. The soft slide of his tongue over the parting of her lips made something in her abdomen clench with wanting.
She looked into his eyes. He nodded.
He took her wrist and leaned back and, slowly, gently, pulled her onto the bed. He was wearing a clean linen nightshirt and, this close, he smelled of spices and musk. She found herself in his arms, her face buried against his shoulder, breathing in his scent.
“Rubina...”
She sat up, grinned and flushing. “Wait,” she reprimanded gently. He looked after her with stricken eyes as she stood.
“Why?”
“I need to close the door,” she said.
Relief flooded his face. He smiled at her and she couldn't help grinning back. She walked over, feeling warm inside. She sat down beside him, feeling a delighted laugh escape her throat. It was morning, the sun pale in a cloudy sky outside. However, it was their wedding night.
“Camden McInvering,
” she said with a warm smile, “I think I should advise caution, as your healer.”
His eyes danced with warmth as he looked into her own. “And I, as your patient, am inclined toward being reckless.”
She smiled. “I think I like the sound of that.”
Her breathless giggle died under the firmness of his lips. He thrust his tongue between them, pushing her down onto the bed. She gasped and her gasp was stopped by his firm kiss. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him. He might be injured, but his grip was strong.
She felt her fingers stroke his back. He had become thinner since the injury and fever, but the muscle was still thick, cording his back like rope. She felt her heart thumping excitedly as he leaned forward and pushed her down onto the pillows, gently stroking her hair.
“Rubina,” he murmured. “My sweetest one.”
“Camden,” she whispered. “Oh! My dearest.”
She felt her heart swell even as her body leaped with excitement as his hands, slowly and tenderly, explored her shoulders. He reached behind her for the button of her gown and she sighed as he unfastened it, and then the next.
She shivered as the cold air brushed her skin. He was looking into her eyes as he unbuttoned the gown behind her, one button at a time. The look of focused intensity, of intense desire, made her shiver and she felt it resonate with the intense longing she felt, a slow flame in her womb.
He drew the dress down her body and she reached up and pulled his lips to hers so that as he unfastened the buttons down her back, their lips clasped and they breathed unanimously.
She felt her body melting into his chest, hard and muscled, as he clasped her to him and slowly, carefully, worked the dress down her body. When it reached her feet he let it fall to the floor. She lay back on the pillow in her under-dress.
He smiled down at her. “At least now we are at an equal advantage,” he said, looking with sparkling eyes at his own nightshirt. She raised a brow.
“Well, if I take it off, I will claim the advantage again.”
He laughed, his eyes bright with wonder. “Indeed, my lady.”
“Well, then?” she smiled languidly and reached for his shoulder.
“I will take the challenge,” he said gallantly and stripped off the nightshirt. She stared.
His body was all muscle – it was lean and sinewy now, since the fever, where once she imagined it was sleeker and more bulky – but it was nonetheless irresistible to her. She reached out a hand and ran it down his chest between the thick pads of muscle there, stroking down his breastbone to his hard abdomen.
He smiled and his eyes brightened with longing.
“My lady,” he said. His voice was a growl of excitement.
She felt that voice shiver down into her bones. She closed her eyes and shivered with wanting as he, slowly and deliberately, drew the shift down from her shoulder and untied the neck.
When she was naked, he sat back and looked down at her. Rubina felt herself flush, but it was a blush of warmth, of pride. She loved the way it felt to have him look at her like that. She saw how his gaze lingered on her body and she felt happy to share that joy in it.
“My lady,” he said hoarsely. “You're beautiful.”
“So are you,” she whispered. She meant it. He blushed. Their eyes met.
He reached out a hand and, slowly, deliberately, stroked it down her body. He reached her thighs and gently parted them. She tensed, and then relaxed as he moved back.
“I will never hurt you,” he said. “Trust me?”
She nodded. “We promised, remember?”
He smiled. “So we did.”
What he did next surprised her. With her legs gently parted, he moved down the bed. His lips lit fire in their wake and when he moved them to the parting of her thighs her eyes clenched tight in ecstasy.
She felt him touch her, lick her gently and her body was pulsing and shivering, her tummy filled with a sweet, tickling urgency that built and built and built.
The feeling blasted through her, enveloping her in warmth. She cried out, part agony and part ecstasy, as it flowed into her and through her and carried her away.
When she opened her eyes again, he was kneeling up between her thighs. He smiled at her.
“You're well?”
She chuckled. “I have never felt better.”
Her own voice sounded drowsy and so happy that it made her want to laugh. He smiled.
“Good,” he said gently.
She looked at his hard, lean body and as he parted her thighs and gently leaned forward, she felt a slight frisson of worry. He looked into her eyes and positioned himself.
When he slid into her, she gasped with wonder. It felt remarkable! He pushed in further and it hurt, suddenly. She moaned and he took her hand and gently pushed in further. The pain stopped and the bliss that followed it was so intense that she groaned aloud.
“My dear,” he murmured as he withdrew and pushed in again. “My dearest dear.”
He moved, she moved, and then there was no border between them as their bodies learned each other and responded like a single creature. She felt herself shivering and the feeling that she knew now, only more intense, began to course through her, just as she saw on his face and heard in his sigh that he felt it, too.
She cried out just before he did. He collapsed onto her. His hips moved once or twice and then he lay still, spent. She held him in her arms and they lay together. Soon, they fell asleep.
She woke to hear him saying her name. They kissed and then made love again, and again, and it was only when the sun had shifted, shining onto the bed at late afternoon, that they woke and realized, with surprise, that almost all the day had passed. It was their wedding night more surely than any other thing could be. Their love was realized at last and they were so happy together.
EPILOGUE
The fire crackled in the grate. Rubina shifted where she lay beside Camden and leaned back on the pillow. She was relaxed. She was happy.
In the room, the vast main bedchamber of Buccleigh, the fire was stoked with scented herbs and the linen was clean and cool. They lay in the vast four-poster bed and the only sound that broke the morning silence was the slow, insistent crackle of firelight.
“It's going to be a warm autumn,” she said.
“Mm.” Camden leaned over and gently kissed her hair. “I think so.”
“Good.”
Rubina nestled close. Since the initial clashes, a treaty had been made. However, no one on either side believed it would be of long duration, the month or two of peace time and uneasy truce meant planning. For now, though, Rubina would not think of it. Nor would Camden.
“They will be bringing in the harvest soon,” Rubina commented. “It's been a good year.”
“I heard,” Camden agreed. “It's a funny time of year, this.”
“Mm,” Rubina nodded, snuggling closer to his warmth. “My favorite one.”
“Oh?” Camden leaned down and stroked her hair back from her brow, an inquiring look in his eyes. “I didn't know.”
“Yes,” Rubina insisted. “With the colors of the woodlands, and the warmth and fireside tales, and the scent of spices from the kitchen...but still not too cold to ride out.”
He chuckled. “It suits you,” he murmured. “I should have guessed.”
“Oh?”
He stroked her hair gently. “Mm. Your hair is like the color of leaves,” he said, kissing her head. “I hope I have told you every day how beautiful you are.”
Rubina twisted and looked up into his eyes. Gray like cloud-wrack, they were exquisite. She stroked a hand down his face.
“You are beautiful, too,” she murmured. “Look at those eyes.”
He chuckled and gently kissed her open palm. “Thank you, my dear.”
She smiled. “Well, you are.”
He chuckled and kissed her fingers, one by one, stroking her palm tenderly. They lay silent a while, enjoying the simple closeness to each other and listening to the
crackle of the fire.
“My leg is doing well,” he commented after a long moment passed. “I rode for two hours today without stopping.”
Rubina flipped onto her tummy so she could look down into his face. “That's wonderful,” she encouraged. The burn had taken part of the muscle on his right leg so that it took time for him to regain his strength again. Now that the dreadful wounds were scarred over, he was beginning the harder task of regaining the use he had lost.
He stroked her hair.
“My wise wife. You have given me so much.”
She snorted. “How can you even think like that? If I had to enumerate each thing you have given to me, just by being, I'd never run out of words. Suffice to say, I love every part of you and everything you do. Now and always.”
She was surprised to see his throat tighten and his eyes fill with tears.
“Oh, Rubina,” he said, voice ragged with feeling. “I can say the same. I love every part of you, and all you do. Now and always.”
The words were solemn as a promise. She looked into his eyes. They both felt the solemnity of the moment. Then she giggled.
“What?” he asked.
“You have fluff in your hair,” she said, and reached up to stroke a frayed fiber of linen from the tousled locks.
He chuckled. “Oh, you. What am I going to do about you?” He wrapped his arms around her where she lay on his chest, looking down into his face.
“I would suggest something,” she said fondly. “But I'm sure you have ideas.”
He chortled with delight. “I would love to hear your suggestions, my dear,” he said, tightening his grip and pressing his body to hers. “But first, I would like to make some of my own. Sound fair?”
She took a long slow breath, seeking to withstand the wildfire of longing his words lit inside her.
“I think,” she managed hesitantly, “that sounds completely fair.”
He chuckled. “Good.”
His hands stroked down her back and she leaned against him and, as her body dissolved into the sweet fire that only he could kindle inside her, she knew that she had never been so happy.
Adventures of a Highlander Page 78
