"Dunna be daft, Ilysse."
Ilysse rubbed her hands nervously together. "The ceremony has been stopped."
"To clean up the foul mess from the attack."
"I fear another delay."
Leelah put her hands on Ilysse's hands to stop her fidgeting. "The agreement has been made. Ye and Cuilén will be marrit."
Ilysse offered a brave smile, but worry still shone in her eyes.
The two walked toward Kara. Leelah brimmed with excitement, holding her dress against her body. "This dress will get Ramsey's attention."
"I've been wanting to ask you about Ramsey."
Leelah set the dress aside. "Ramsey?"
"Yes. I see mostly you doing the talking when you and he are together and he never smiles. Always a sour look on his face. Are you sure this is the man you are going to marry?"
Ilysse chuckled. "She's sure, but I dunna think Ramsey 'tis willing."
Kara glanced at her friend. "Really?"
Leelah stamped her foot. "Ilysse."
"What?" Ilysse replied innocently.
Marching over, Leelah dropped down in front of Kara. "He's hard-headed and thinks he hasna time for a wife."
"And what makes you think he's not telling you the truth?" Kara asked.
A faraway look filled Leelah's eyes. "I have heard the stories of the wars and how Alaxandar and Ramsey met. He believes he needs nothing but his sword and his horse." Her eyes twinkled. "I be changing his mind."
Kara laughed. "I believe you'll do your best to convince him, but what if he's not listening?"
Leelah stood, straightened her leine and skirt. "Mayhap I need be offering something he canna refuse."
"Leelah MacLeod, you wouldna," Ilysse gasped.
Her chin jutted. "I would and I will."
Kara, being the oldest woman in the room, thought she'd best give some sage advice. "Just be careful. Men like Ramsey will most likely take that which you offer and still leave."
"'Tis a chance I be taking, but I plan to melt his heart."
Kara hoped the young woman knew what she was doing. Not having had much interaction with Ramsey MacLaren, she really couldn't make an assessment of the man. However, she'd grown to trust Alaxandar and he considered Ramsey his friend.
An hour later, Ilysse paced the floor. Kara and Leelah shared concerned glances. Ilysse was a ball of nervous energy, fearing something awful would happen to ruin her dream. Kara understood the anxiety. She too had jitters, and fear that she would never find the answers she sought.
Needing a reprieve from the stress, Kara wandered the castle. Down one hall, she found a small cozy room, a reading place. Ecstatic, she entered to find only two handwritten tomes. One scripted in Gaelic and both were the Bible. She'd learned only a few Gaelic words from her grandmother and a couple of curses from Grandpa.
She pulled down one book and fluttered the pages, loving the slight musty smell and odorous ink. She loved to read. Her mother started reading to her at bedtime when she was little. The musical lilt to her voice gave the stories a magical quality. Tucking the book under her arm, Kara took it to her room.
For the next few days, Kara continued her sewing and read when she took a break. People cast a mixture of concerned, wondrous, and ludicrous looks when she passed by with her nose buried in the book.
"They canna see why ye bother to read," Cuilén said to her.
She looked up, surprised to realize she was at the stables. "Why?"
"Because, not many here do it."
"I believe you. There are no books in the library?"
"Me máthair brought one version when she first came here to live. Me father looks for them when he goes away, but they be a great expense. Only those most rich have any. The Bible be a comfort to her when he be gone for long spells."
"I can imagine. I have loved to read all my life."
Cuilén shook his head.
"You think only men should be able to read? That women don't have the ability to be as learned as men?"
"I dinna say that."
"But you thought it."
"Dunna put thoughts in me head, woman."
"What goes on here?"
A long shadow from the tall man fell on her. She clenched her teeth as the deep voice heralded the coming of Alaxandar. He truly challenged her patience. A hostile look passed between him and his brother and then rested on her. "What goes here?"
"The lady was passing through," Cuilén said, and bowed low before retreating to the back of the stables.
"Coward," she mumbled.
After staring a moment at his brother's retreating form, Alaxandar turned to her. "Kara?" he said in a soft tone.
Rolling her eyes, she faced him. "What?"
He crossed his arms and looked at her with that arrogant lift of brow and tilted smile. "Why be ye here with me bráthair?"
"Oh for crying out loud," she snapped. "Nothing, talking."
"'Tis nothing or talking?"
Kara ground her teeth in frustration. How could these women tolerate being dominated by arrogant, egotistical men all the time? It drove her nuts. A woman can't read, a woman can't think.
"Out of my way, Alaxandar, before I get riled."
He threw back his head and laughed. That was the end of it. Stomping hard on his booted foot, Kara stormed out of the stable.
Alaxandar rubbed his foot. With a laugh, Cuilén walked up. "She be feisty."
"Aye," Alaxandar replied while still watching her walk to the castle. One arm flailed about and the other raised the book to the sky. "What do ye think she be doing now?"
Cuilén moved alongside him. "Letting loose her anger at ye."
"Me?" Alaxandar said in surprise. "What did I do?" He shook his head. "The wench be tetched."
"Aye, but she's fetching."
Alaxandar scowled.
"Dunna deny it. I see it in your eyes every time ye look at her."
Alaxandar sighed. "She 'tis different."
Cuilén clapped him on the back. "Ye worry too much. Why not take what God has so readily put in your hands."
Alaxandar's groin tightened at the thought. He'd been stimulated since the day he nearly ran her down with his horse. How much longer could he go before he reaped the rewards her sweet body offered?
* * * *
Ramsey returned late that day. He sat tall in his saddle. His left upper arm had a five-inch gash still bleeding, but he didn't seem concerned with the matter. Swinging his leg over the saddle, he jumped to the ground.
"Ye found something?" Alaxandar asked.
"A group passed while I lay low. The last man tarried so I unsaddled him… quietly." He moved away from passing females. "I took some time with him to get information, but the bastard died afore he would tell me anything of use."
"Ye saw nothing to identify them?"
"Nay, which doesna sit well with me."
"Aye." Alaxandar saw Leelah coming toward them with determined speed. Ramsey stiffened his spine as though he knew she was there as well.
"What have ye gone and done Ramsey MacLaren?" Leelah said, grabbing his arm to assess the wound.
"Leave it," Ramsey ground out.
"Nay, I willna leave it, ye—man." She ripped a strip from her skirt and proceeded to wipe the blood.
"Why must ye hover? I kin take care of this. I have done it many times." He glared in Alaxandar's direction for help, but got none.
"I have seen the jagged scars across your body."
Ramsey's left brow raised slightly.
"Dunna take that tone with me. Ye know I have seen your body more than once," she whispered. Her fingers lightly touched the skin around the cut. "I willna allow another wretched job of it. Come inside so I kin sew it proper." Leelah turned and marched toward the keep.
"Should I ask how me sister has seen your scars?" Alaxandar said.
Ramsey scowled. "She sneaks up on me while I bathe or put on me clothes."
Alaxandar laughed.
Ramsey shook his he
ad, and followed the path Leelah had taken.
* * * *
The day had finally arrived. Kara rose early. Boys brought in a large bucket of fresh hot water. Using soap Leelah had given her, she generously lathered her hands and washed her hair and body. Her modest gown lay across the bed. She'd not attempted to make her outfit as beautiful as the others, but it would be wonderful all the same. The light color showed off her tan.
A slight breeze carried the smell of heather from the nearby hills. The ceremony took place under ancient trees in a glen not far from Dunvegan. Although there were guards posted, it didn't dampen the excitement.
Ilysse wore a white gown with beads covering the bodice and scattered throughout the skirt. A wreath of fresh flowers rested atop her head. Her blond hair curled about her face and flowed loose down her back. She put Kara in mind of Guinevere, the day she married King Arthur.
Next to Father Dunkirk, Cuilén stood tall, looking ruggedly handsome in a blue shirt. The flat color did nothing to take away from his stature. A dark red and blue plaid draped over his left shoulder, held fast by a broach bearing the MacLeod emblem, a bull between two red flags with the words "Hold Fast" emblazoned on top. His sword lay fastened at his side and his hair was tied back with a leather strip.
Ilysse's father and brother stood on her left, and Drummond and his other sons lined Cuilén's right side, looking regal in their finery. Kara's gaze fixed on Alaxandar. Seeing him dressed up gave her shivers every bit as much as seeing him in the buff. Her breasts tingled.
Her body craved him.
Their next encounter would leave them both satisfied if she had anything to say about it.
"Cuilén MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, do ye stand and give your oath to protect and keep Ilysse MacKenzie as your wife?"
"Aye." Cuilén said with strong conviction.
Ilysse blushed but her eyes never left Cuilén's face.
When the ceremony ended, cheers rocked the countryside. Kara floated along with the crowd to Dunvegan castle for the celebrations which would go on well into the night.
An upbeat Highland tune played and the festivities raged on. Long wooden tables loaded with food sat along the wall. The men were more interested in the wine and ale which flowed freely. Highlanders, though primitive by Kara's standards, sure knew how to throw a party. The colorfully decorated hall rumbled with conversation and a huge fire roared in the hearth. Occasionally, a drunken warrior stumbled past the blaze and Kara felt sure one would fall in and be lit up before the night was done.
The two clans put aside petty differences and embraced each other. This wedding signaled the beginning of a new life not only for Cuilén and Ilysse, but for the MacLeods and MacKinzies as well. If she didn't find a way to return the damn stone soon, it could be her new life.
Sighing, Kara turned her attention to a group of men who were chugging ale and boasting of their prowess. Bets were waged on who would win as two thoroughly foxed MacLeods went at each other on the floor. As one gouged his opponent's eye, the other howled and gave him an uppercut to the chin. Naturally, the bystanders cheered for their favorites and higher bids were placed. "I think the one bleeding the most will win," Kara said to the clansman standing next to her. His semi-toothless grin flashed and he upped his bet. Laughing, she walked away.
Kara wandered the hall, letting the excitement and high energy carry her until she reached the castle doors. They were open wide making it easy for people to pass through. She welcomed the fresh air.
Moving outside, she paused as a brisk wind touched her face. The sun sank lower in the sky giving the night air a chill. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she watched the clouds pillow the sun laying it to rest.
Though he'd been doing his best to avoid Kara, Alaxandar couldn't keep his thoughts in line. His will weakened. The desire to touch overrode common sense.
Grabbing a tankard of ale, he slowly made his way through the masses, stopping to talk with clansmen and their families, all the while moving closer to Kara.
She stood outside watching the sun set. Strolling up quietly, Alaxandar encircled her with his arms and pulled her against his chest. He planted light kisses along her neck.
Kara laid her head on his shoulder which provided better access to her neck and a full view of her breasts. She turned and put hands on his chest. He claimed her mouth, tickling, teasing, devouring. This is what he'd been fighting, the need to touch, to see desire flare, to succumb.
Regretfully, he released her. "We should be getting inside."
She nodded.
Alaxandar clasped fingers and tugged her alongside him. The revelers danced and drank. At one point, everyone halted their merriment and circled Cuilén and Ilysse.
"It be time!" Drummond yelled to the crowd.
Boisterous laughter and catcalls were thrown about before a group of men and women descended on the bride and groom.
"What are they doing?" Kara said.
"It be the custom to strip them down to their nothing." He laughed along with the others.
"What?" she exclaimed. "They're going to take their clothes?"
"Aye, come on." He dragged her with him to follow the group as they carried a naked Cuilén and his wife to their bedchambers.
They were thrown into the marriage bed. Cuilén did his best to hide his new wife from the onlookers with no care that they saw all of him. Kara turned her eyes away. "Good Lord."
Iain and Jamie ushered everyone out. Alaxandar leaned against the door laughing.
Kara shook her head.
"What be the custom where ye come from?" he said.
He moved closer to hear over the well-wishers. "Generally, the bride and groom attend the reception until around midnight and then go off by themselves and spend the night together."
"Hmmmm, alone. I be liking this custom." He grabbed her hand and jogged down a hallway in the opposite direction of the others.
"Where are we going?"
He stopped and she bumped into him. "A place to be alone," he replied in a low voice laced with emotion.
She gazed into the dark depths of his eyes. Her unrestrained breasts poked against the material of her dress. Already she felt him and he hadn't touched her yet. He half pulled, half carried her down the hallway to his bedchamber. Once inside he slammed and bolted the door, and spun her so the front of her body pushed against the wood. Placing his hands on top of hers, he leaned. She was his prisoner in more ways than one.
His erection pushed against her ass and she pushed back.
He wrapped one hand around her waist. "I will have ye this way and every other," he whispered.
Anticipation screamed through her.
"Keep both hands on the door," he ordered.
She did so willingly.
"I wanted to do this from the first time I saw ye." He ran hands down her sides, over her hips and worshipfully gave a love bite to the left cheek.
Kara arched her back so her bottom stuck out even more. He placed hands on her ass and squeezed then slowly raised the hem of her gown. She wiggled her butt against his arms.
He chuckled. "Aye, lass. I be giving ye everything ye need."
As he settled the garment on her waist, he growled low. He caressed her thighs and she gasped. The roughness of his fingers felt incredible on the sensitive areas. He kissed her hip and bit her ass again.
She moaned. "Can I put my arms down now?"
"I like ye this way," he said and leaned in so his erection ran the crack of her ass. The roughness of the kilt caused sensations to explode across her body.
He moved back. "Turn around."
She started to lower her arms, but he stopped her. "Nay, leave 'em above your head."
"Alaxandar, I can't—"
He pressed his lips to hers.
She relaxed.
He broke contact long enough to lift the dress over her head and toss it to the floor. Then his hands cupped her breasts and massaged them. Her nipples harden in the cool air and she arched he
r back, pushing them further into his palms. Alaxandar captured one between his thumb and forefinger gently twisting back and forth.
The look in his eyes thrilled, but also frightened her a little. Unfortunately, she picked this inopportune moment to recall the stories her grandmother had told about savage Highlanders.
He untied his kilt and in one swoop, it fell from his body. He didn't waste time removing his shirt. Her eyes feasted on his gloriously nude body, taking note of his attributes. His skin was bronzed from hours outdoors. Dark hair on his chest tapered down to a trim waist. Kara's hungry gaze drifted lower to his well-endowed penis.
Yum. She wanted to touch all of him. Reaching out, she ran fingers through the short hairs on his chest then over his flat stomach. With a wicked grin, she drew a fingernail up the length of his cock which danced in response. When he didn't stop her, she devilishly wrapped her fingers around him and pumped a couple of times. He hissed when her fingertips played with the velvety head. Reverently, she knelt and slid her mouth around his shaft.
He fisted his hands in her hair and coaxed her to face him. Tender lips kissed her neck, and nibbled on the swell of her breast. One hand held her still while the other caressed its way down her stomach.
His long fingers brushed against her clit. Every nerve ending sizzled. Finally, she had him right where she wanted him—almost. Shamelessly Kara rubbed her pussy against his hand. When he dipped his finger inside, she screamed from the sensation of it.
It had been a long time since she'd been with a man.
Alaxandar's mouth locked onto hers to absorb the next scream.
"Please, Alaxandar. I need—"
Alaxandar eased back to stare at the passionate woman. She possessed the most perfect breasts, soft and just the right size for his hand. Her eyes worshiped him in the firelight. He felt as though he could take on an army single-handed and win.
She'd sucked on him.
He'd never had a woman take that kind of initiative. His cock enlarged even more. This mysterious beauty took pleasure in his demands and gave freely. He reveled in the feel of her skin, the taste of her mouth.
Highland Stone Page 8
