by Fiona Faris
Duncan stood looking out over the mixed crowd of individuals and marveled at the transformation he saw. People who had once hated each other, now stood shoulder to shoulder, aiding the elderly and infirm, minding each other’s children, sharing looks of compassion and empathy where once only hatred had shone. He found himself to be moved beyond measure. “My people,” he stepped forward speaking to the gathering. “We have come this sorrowful day tae lay tae rest my father, our laird. A man o’ strength and wisdom, compassion and heart.” Several in the crowd nodded and shouts of ‘Aye!’ and ‘Here, here!’ echoed throughout the kirk. “But he was also a flawed man and it is in part for these flaws that we stand here this day. The feud between our two great clans has gone on long enough. We have lost tae much on both sides and there is nae way that we will e’er get it back, get our loved ones back, but we can see that it ne’er happens again. It is time that we bury the past and embrace a more peaceful future, a future of friendship, understanding, compassion, and love.” He said the last looking down into Marra’s eyes. “So as we bury my faither behind these stone walls, let us also bury the past. Let us bury all the hatred and distrust between us, the violence and the pain. Let us start anew as a new people, and a new clan, together!”
A roar of approval went up from those gathered. It was as if they poured every ounce of sorrow that they felt into the acceptance of a more peaceful future and the burial of the pain of the past. “Now let us go forth and embrace a new dawn. Let us make proud those we have lost, so that when we finally join them in the hereafter, we might hear those ever coveted words, ‘Well done, my sons and daughters. Well done.’” Another roar went up from the crowd and Marra squeezed his hand in approval. He looked down into her eyes and knew that no matter what was to come, they could and would face it together. “Marry me,” he stated more than asked, pulling her up against his side. He had planned on waiting until some time had passed after the battle to allow everyone to heal, but as he stared down into her loving face, he could not hold back a moment longer. He loved her more than life itself. What better time to embrace the dawn of a new day of peace then to wed the woman he loved.
“Yes,” she whispered back, her eyes glowing with happiness and unshed tears. “A thousand times, yes.”
Bending his head, he brushed his lips against hers. “Until later,” he murmured, promising her an interlude of passion beyond her wildest imaginings at a time when they were not standing beside his father’s crypt.
“Aye.” She nodded, her jubilant smile only broken by the sorrow of the night’s losses. “Tae new beginnings.”
“Tae new beginnings.”
* * *
Marra stood smiling up at Duncan, her heart so full it felt as if it would burst in spite of the horrors of the night. Out of unholy terror and bloodshed had been born a new people, a new life. As they walked hand in hand back to the castle, Marra could see their future as if it were a bright shining light beckoning her safely to shore. She felt as if she had been on a treacherously storm tossed sea and that Duncan’s love was the lighthouse that guided her safely home. They entered the keep and were once more faced with the evidence of the night’s battle. Blood stained every surface of the great hall, staircase, and corridor above. The bodies had been carried away to be buried, but their lifeforce remained behind in stark crimson clarity.
She heard Duncan sigh beside her as he removed his weapons and set them on a nearby table. He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a bucket of water from one of the passing maids. He tipped the bucket and threw its contents upon the floor. The clear liquid sloshed onto the stones, mixing with the blood and creating pools of pink sorrow between the cracks. Duncan took a scrub brush, knelt down, and began scrubbing. Marra did the same as did many other members of the clan. It took them the remainder of the day to remove the blood and gore. Several individuals had to leave the keep as the scene was too horrible for them to bear. One poor young woman vomited before she could get out of the door.
When they were done, Duncan took Marra by the hand and led her down to the sea. He pulled her into the water with him and gently washed away all signs of the crimson stain from her skin and clothing. Marra in turn did the same for him. All evidence of the night’s horrors rippled down his muscular form and were washed away by the tide. Marra reached up and caressed his face. His muscles were tense beneath her fingers. She knew he felt the pain of the night’s losses keenly, and she longed to offer him a moment’s reprieve from the strain. The feel of his hands upon her body ignited fires all along her nerve endings. She shivered in delight, longing to take him into herself, to ease away the cold grip of death upon their souls. As they stood in the waning light of day, the sun’s golden glow glistening off of their dripping wet bodies, Duncan leaned down and kissed her, pulling her close against his hardened form.
“I love ye, Marra MacDonald,” Duncan murmured against her lips. “My verra soul cries out for ye, tae touch ye, tae feel yer skin upon my own. In spite o’ all that has happened yer touch is all that I can think about here in this moment with ye. Here where there is nothin’ between us but the sky and the sea, I cannae resist ye. I need ye, my bonnie. I need all o’ ye. I verra much wish tae wed ye now where we stand, but there is somethin’ that ye need tae ken afore ye bind yer life tae mine.”
“What is it?” Marra asked, concerned by the look on his face. He looked as though he was in pain, but it was a different pain than what they had just endured.
“I ken that after I tell ye, ye may verra well wish tae leave me, but I must in all good conscience tell ye the truth afore I wed ye. Once I tell ye my secret, my life is in yer hands. Ye may keep my secret, and I shall live. Ye may tell another, and I shall die.”
“Now ye have me worried,” Marra admitted, pulling back a bit to better study his face. “What could possibly be so terrible that it would cause yer death, after all we have been through?”
“I am no’ a Campbell. My grandmaither’s people were Campbells, but I am no’.”
“But ye bear the Campbell name. Ye live on Campbell lands.” Marra shook her head not sure what to think about his words. “Did yer maither have an affair? Are ye the illegitimate son o’ another man?”
“Nay, I am no’. My maither was nothin’ but faithful tae my faither ‘til her dyin’ day.”
“Then what?” Marra was quite nervous by this point.
“I am a MacGregor.” Duncan’s eyes searched hers in a seeming attempt to gauge her reaction.
“A MacGregor?” Marra repeated dumbfounded. “Ye cannae be.”
“Aye, lass, I can.”
“But the MacGregors were outlawed on pain o’ death.”
“Aye, that we were. Some were killed, some fled the country, while others took on another name tae survive. My faither’s people took the name o’ Campbell, his maither’s people. This castle was her faither’s.”
“How can this be?” she murmured, confused. “How could ye have kept somethin’ like this a secret for so long? Would they no’ have keened yer faither’s lineage when he inherited the title o’ laird? Nae one kenned who ye were all o’ these years? How is that possible?”
“We are verra careful about it. The family connection tae the land and the castle has aided us in keepin’ the secret safe.”
“And now yer entire life lies in my hands?”
“Aye, it does, lass.”
Marra looked up into his eyes and found nothing but love and trust shining there. “How do ye ken that I will keep yer secret? How do ye ken that I am willin’ tae defy the King’s command?”
“Because I ken ye, my bonnie.”
Marra sighed, closing her eyes in surrender. “And ye are right o’ course,” she whispered. “I would risk all tae keep ye safe from harm.”
“As I would ye.”
“As ye already have.”
Duncan reached up and lovingly caressed her cheek. He moved forward, bending his face down to hers and kissed her with such passion that it made her head spin
. “Marry me?” he asked again.
Marra nodded her head and leaned into the palm of his hand. “Aye,” she whispered with tears in her eyes.
“Dinnae weep, my love. I will protect ye.”
“’Tis no’ for my safety, or e’en for the losses that we have endured that I weep. ‘Tis for joy in spite o’ all that has befallen us that I am overcome. How can one feel such joy in the midst o’ so much pain?”
“’Tis the bane and blessin’ o’ life, my love, but I am grateful for it beyond any earthly measure.”
“But I have caused ye so much pain. Were it no’ for me Lachlan would ne’er have done what he did. How can ye wish tae marry me when I have brought ye so much pain?”
“Ye are no’ responsible for what happened here, Marra. Lachlan did no’ do what he did because o’ ye. That may have been his excuse, but it was no’ his true reason for betrayin’ his own people. He would have done it eventually, whether ye had come in tae our lives or no’.”
“How can ye be so certain o’ such a thing?”
“He told me as much in his last words tae me.”
“I am so verra sorry for all that ye have endured at his hand.”
“As I am for ye.”
“Aye, we have both been done a great wrong by him tae be sure. What have they done with his body?”
“It is said that his maither and siblings fled with it in the night.”
“I ne’er would have guessed yer Aunt Fiona tae be a part o’ such treachery as tae sit by and allow her own brother tae be slaughtered at the hand o’ her son.”
“Nae, I would no’ have thought it possible, but I have learned that desperation can be born in e’en the most unlikely o’ places and treachery in the most unlikely o’ hearts.”
“And yet ye trust me.”
“Aye, with my verra life.”
Marra placed her hand in his, willing the warmth of her love into his being. “And I ye with mine.”
Chapter Thirty
Marra gazed up into Duncan’s eyes and knew that she would gladly spend the rest of her life with him, no matter how long or short it might be, no matter the perils that they had and would face. As long as they faced them together, they could endure anything. “I love ye, Duncan MacGregor,” she whispered.
“I love ye, Marra MacDonald.”
“Prove it,” she teased, grinning.
Duncan grinned back, chuckling in amusement at her brazen challenge. Pulling a ribbon from her hair, he wrapped it around their joined right hands. “I, Duncan MacGregor, take ye, Marra MacDonald, tae be my lawfully wedded wife, tae have and tae hold from this day forward ‘til death do us part, and perhaps e’en after that,” he pledged with a twinkle on his eye.
“And I, Marra MacDonald, take ye, Duncan MacGregor, tae be my lawfully wedded husband, tae have and tae hold from this day forward ‘til death do us part,” she paused and smiled then continued repeating his own words back to him, “and perhaps e’en after that.”
Duncan grinned and crushed her to him in a kiss so fervent it outshone all the other kisses before it. Marra was overcome with a need for him so strong that it possessed her body and soul. Duncan lifted her up out of the water and carried her to shore. He laid her down upon the grass, removing her wet clothing piece by piece. He stood and removed his own clothing, gazing down upon her naked body in lustful appreciation. She could tell by the appreciative gleam in his eye that he found great pleasure in all that he saw. “Ye are the bonniest lass I have e’er laid eyes upon,” he murmured in hushed awe.
“Seen a great many have ye,” she teased, blushing at her own brazen appreciation as she admired his naked form from his delightfully dark head of hair to his decidedly masculine toes. The man was made of pure muscle, lean and taut. “Ye are a braw man, Duncan MacGregor,” she breathed with equal parts fear and excitement. “A braw man, indeed.”
Duncan lay down on top of her, their naked bodies melting into one as his hands roamed freely over her body, exploring every piece of her. By the time he claimed her lips once more she was panting with such need she was near tears in her desperation to have him inside of her. She whimpered his name as she clutched his body against hers, her fingers digging into his back. His mouth moved from her lips to her throat. Marra leaned her head back giving him full access to her neck.
After kissing, licking, and nibbling his way downward, his hand moved to cup her breast. His thumb passed over her nipple, causing such ecstasy that she nearly came up off of the ground. She arched her back in an effort to get closer to him. He lowered his head down to her breasts and gently suckled each in turn. Marra whimpered and moaned, torn between the realms of torture and delight. She grasped his head, intertwining her fingers in his hair, holding him to her. “Oh, Duncan,” she gasped, arching her body up to meet his.
“My sweet, bonnie lass,” he murmured against her skin as his hands spread her legs, opening up her most private places to his nimble fingers’ explorations. “At last I will have ye,” he groaned as his finger’s delved into the wet core of her. He positioned his hips above hers and his hard shaft replaced his fingers at the opening of her most intimate folds. “Aye?” he whispered in question looking down into her eyes with such love that Marra could not have looked away if she had wanted to.
“Aye,” she whispered, nodding her consent.
Duncan braced himself above her, then drove his full length into her in one swift motion. Marra cried out in pain, biting down upon his shoulder to stifle the cry, but her pain swiftly turned to pleasure as he began to move deep inside of her. “Duncan,” she moaned his name as she lifted her hips up to meet his thrusts. Duncan drove himself into her over and over again, each time more intense than the last. He captured her lips with his own, caressing her body with one hand while his other hand held him up so as not to crush her beneath his weight. When his hand returned to her breasts, Marra nearly screamed with the intensity of the sensations that his body caused her own. Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pressed the length of his hardened shaft deeper into her hot wet sheath.
“Marra,” he groaned into her neck, his forehead against her cheek. “Ye’ll undo me, lass, if ye keep on that way,” he warned.
Encouraged, Marra pressed him even deeper. He throbbed within her but somehow managed to keep just enough control not to lose himself. Growling, Duncan bent his head and claimed one of her nipples with his teeth. The action drove Marra over the edge, and she cried out in exultation as she fell over the precipice into oblivion. Bright colors flew behind her eyelids like fragments of shattered stained glass. Duncan let out a groan of ecstasy as he followed her over the edge, filling her with the heat of his essence. “My bonnie,” he whispered, laying his forehead against hers.
“My love,” she whispered back, meaning every syllable from the very depths of her heart. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes willing her body back down to earth.
Suddenly, Duncan stiffened from where he rested atop her naked form. “What is it?” she asked, afraid that she had hurt him somehow.
“I would thank ye tae remove yerself from my son’s wife.” Marra’s eyes flew open as she recognized the voice. There towering overhead, she found Alexander MacDonald, the Laird of Skye, with his sword to Duncan’s throat. A boat filled with his men bobbed on the water nearby, while two of his strongest warriors flanked him on either side. There was no sign of James anywhere.
“What are ye doin’ here MacDonald? These are Campbell lands,” Duncan growled, refusing to stand and leave her naked body exposed. He pulled his wet tartan from the ground and placed it over her. Marra was grateful for his thoughtfulness.
“I have come tae claim what is rightfully mine,” Alexander MacDonald answered tapping the flat of his sword against the back of Duncan’s neck. “Now get up,” he commanded, his voice menacing in its intensity.
“Do as ye will with me, slit my throat, I dinnae care, but I will no’ allow ye tae take her.” Duncan continued to shield her with his body.
“Nae, dinnae harm him, I beg o’ ye,” Marra cried out, attempting to protect his neck with her own hands.
Duncan removed her hands. “Nae, lass. I will no’ allow a single finger on yer bonnie hands tae be harmed for my account.”
“And yet ye can die for me, and it is perfectly acceptable? I think no’, husband,” Marra protested.
“Husband?” Alexnader MacDonald asked.
“Aye, we are handfast,” Marra glared up at him rebelliously.
“Ye cannae marry this swine when ye are already wed tae my son. Whether ye wish it tae be so or nae, ye and Jura belong tae me.”
“I did nae consent tae any such marriage,” Marra argued. She felt at a disadvantage lying flat on her back beneath Duncan’s naked body. “Under Scottish law, ye must have my consent.”
“I have a contract that states otherwise.”
“It is no’ valid.”
“I am the law on Skye, and as such, I say that the marriage is valid. As did yer faither, God rest his inevitably damned soul.”
“How dare ye speak o’ the dead in such a fashion!” Marra protested. She did not like to think of her faither being damned for all eternity to the fires of hell.
Ignoring Marra’s words, the laird of Skye tapped the back of Duncan’s neck again. “Ye may no’ care for yer own life, but what o’ hers?” he asked, moving the sword from Duncan to Marra’s throat.
