Exhausted, he stood and stumbled back to his room and Blair.
Glancing down at her petite form, he smiled. He’d always thought her beautiful but never thought to find a woman like her as his own. On one of their last nights in Edinburgh, he’d watched Henry Graham drag Blair down the hall away from her room. Fists clenched, he’d struggled not to get involved, because doing so would go against her family’s wishes and could threaten the Cameron clan’s standing with both the Grahams and the Macnabs.
She was his now, and he would keep her safe. Taking in her peaceful slumber in the bed that until this night had been his alone, his groin ached for the release he was entitled to, the relief that only his wife would give him. He would take her gently and show her that he had already come to care for her. He wanted to do so now, but they had a long journey ahead, and she would need her strength.
She would be with him the rest of their lives. He could give her this one night to rest.
Leaning down, he blew out the candle, undressed, and climbed into their bed, wrapping his arms around her slight form and pulling her near.
…
Birds chirped and sun shone brightly through the window as light rushes of sound and movement brought Finlay out of the slumber he’d not been able to find until the wee hours of the morning. Although he could still smell lavender and summer rain, Blair was no longer by his side. She couldn’t have been gone long, because the ache between his legs that had kept him awake deep into the night still raged on. A shuffle sounded in the other room.
Jumping up, he quickly dressed then walked out to find Blair rummaging through the trunk she’d brought with her.
Clearing his throat as to not startle her, which was something he seemed to be good at, she turned her head toward him and smiled. “Good morning. I didnae intend to wake ye.”
“Nae, ’tis no’ a problem. We need to be on our way. I usually dinnae sleep this long.”
“Well, we havenae stopped long for days. Ye deserve some time to rest.”
He moved into the space, inching closer to the bonny lass brightening his home, no, their home. His spirits lifted as he took her in his arms.
She melded to him, placing her arms around his hips and welcoming him, a reassuring sign she was pleased with their match. And he found himself wanting her to be happy. She didn’t flinch as she had the night before. Maybe he’d taken the fears of a new bride and twisted them into something else.
He savored the feel of her, just wanting to know she was real and he hadn’t dreamed it all. And she clung to him as if she, too, felt the same.
Easing back and reluctantly letting his arms drop, he said, “I’m sorry for whisking ye away so quickly.”
“’Twill be all right. I’ve grown excited about the idea of visiting new places. My father never took me on his travels.”
Sad, because that light in her eyes at the prospect of something new pleased him and made him want to show her the world.
“Once we are home again, I will take ye anywhere ye wish to visit.”
“I would like that.” The smile she gave him differed from its usual radiance—it was wistful with a dreamy quality as if she wanted it but truly didn’t expect it to happen. She’d taken well to Edinburgh, and he’d seen her excitement as he’d guarded her and Kirstie through the city. Blair genuinely enjoyed seeing new places. He vowed he would take her anywhere to keep her happy.
“What should I bring?” Blair cut into his thoughts as she glanced to her trunks then returned her gaze to his.
“We will travel light, just horses, so only a change of clothes.”
She did this adorable thing where her smile quirked to the side and she tilted her head. Her reaction amused him.
“I was under the impression a trip to England took weeks. Surely, I will need more.”
“I’ll get ye whatever ye need when we get there, but for now, time is important.”
Bewilderment swirled in her blue eyes. It almost looked as if he’d told her the sky was yellow. “I, I…” She looked down, her eyes skidding from side to side.
“’Twill be all right. I promise I’ll take care of ye. Yer belongings will just get dusty on the journey anyway.”
Gaping at him, she blinked, inhaled sharply, and nodded. It was as if she was telling herself she could do this, like facing down a feral cat standing between her and a drink when she’d gone a day without.
He reached out and offered a hand. She put her delicate fingers in his, and he drew her in. Misjudging her weight, she flew toward him, colliding with his midsection, and he had to swing his other arm around her when she floundered. The move pinned her to him.
Breathing in the cool scent of lavender, he dipped his head toward hers, burying his nose in her hair, seeking out the scent as his hands clung to her curves. Need clawed at him. Tempted to pick her up and cart her back to the bed to sate the ache that was making itself known again, he groaned inwardly. There wasn’t time to thoroughly enjoy her body, and their first time, he wanted it to be special, no hurried affair that left her feeling used and uncared for. She was his wife, and he’d treat her with all the respect and reverence she was due.
Withdrawing, he let his hand slide down the slope of her back and fall away. He walked to a corner, picked up a bag, checked to make certain it was empty, then swiveling back around, he took two strides and held the satchel out for her.
“Just two gowns. We must make haste and cannae take a wagon.”
She took the cloth sack and picked out her gowns.
“I’ve heard parts of England are lovely.” The hint of excitement in her voice gave him hope.
“This will be a short visit, but at least ye will be able to get acquainted with the estate.”
“Ye have an estate. Is it large?”
“’Tis half the size of my father’s, but the land is what’s impressive.” Taking another bag, he walked into his room, filling the sack with coin, an extra plaid and shirt, and a second pair of boots.
Entering the main room, he halted at the sight of her arms wrapped around her satchel, hugging it as if she was afraid he was going to tell her she couldn’t take it as well. Guilt stabbed at him, but he could delay no longer, and he wasn’t going to leave his new bride alone.
Rushing into the kitchen, he grabbed the loaf of bread he’d brought from Kentillie last night.
“I’m sorry. ’Tis all I have this morn.” Breaking it, he handed her half.
“’Tis fine. I have no’ even thought of food yet this morning.”
“When we get back, I’ll make certain the kitchen is well stocked for ye.”
Smiling, she nodded.
“Do ye enjoy to cook?”
Her face went blank.
Hell, of course she didn’t cook. She was accustomed to living in a castle and having servants, being able to wear whatever she wanted when she wanted, and wasn’t rushed onto horses to take dangerous journeys into the heart of a civil war.
He’d make it all up to her when they got back.
“Nae. I dinnae ken how.” Her shoulders straightened. “But I’ll learn,” she continued as if he’d challenged her. He’d not meant to make her feel inadequate.
“We can do it together. My mother taught me, and I’m no’ so bad at it.”
“I cannae wait to meet her.”
“She’s going to love ye, but she’ll be sore about me taking ye off to meet Father before her. I’m leaving her a note to apologize for taking ye away so quickly.” He strapped his claymore to his back before walking toward the door.
Moments later, they were leading the horses out of the stable, guiding them into a day with warm sunshine. As he helped Blair up on her horse, his steed snorted as if it were jealous of the attention he was giving his new wife or offended by the new horse’s presence in its home.
Once she was seated, he turned toward Heddwyn, the name he’d given the beast because of its red coat and fiery temper. The horse snorted again.
Och, get used
to them, Heddwyn. They arnae going anywhere.
The steed tried to show off by pulling back as he climbed on his horse, but he was able to mount and calm Heddwyn.
“Mayhap yer horse is still tired from the journey here.”
“Nae, ’tis jealousy. Heddwyn is used to getting all my attention.” He rubbed the steed’s neck.
The sound of voices and hoofbeats resounded through the trees. Robbie cantered into the small clearing around his house, flanked by three of the most experienced Cameron warriors.
Two of the men in the group who were to accompany them on the journey puzzled him. One was Malcolm, his laird’s younger brother; Lachlan normally kept him close to home. After the young man’s performance in the battle in Edinburgh, however, the laird must have developed more faith in the lad’s abilities.
Brodie was the other. He’d heard Brodie was good with a sword, but Finlay had never seen him lift anything heavier than a cup of ale. The laird’s cousin seemed completely out of place, but he’d changed after Skye had returned and they’d married. Perhaps he had merits Finlay was unaware of.
Seamus and Tristan were the most accomplished and experienced warriors of the clan. Although he was glad to see them, he was accustomed to making the journey on his own. Now, he had a small group of men to lead along with a wife to protect.
“Good morn to ye both.” Robbie tilted his head, and Finlay wondered if he was really in charge of his expedition, or if he’d lost that role to the lad of almost fifteen summers seated on the steed before him. The boy had a way of fading into the background but still commanding the attention of all those around.
“Good day.” Blair’s easy smile rested on the men as she took them in, and despite his negligence in letting her know they would have company on the journey, she appeared at ease with their sudden appearance.
“Good to see ye, Blair,” Brodie said.
“Welcome to the Cameron clan,” Malcolm said before she could answer, and he realized she’d not been startled by their presence, because Brodie and Malcolm had been to visit the Macnabs several times when Kirstie had stayed with Blair.
“Thank ye.”
Finlay opened his mouth to introduce her to the rest, but Brodie beat him to it. “Blair, this is Robbie, Seamus, and Tristan. We will all be accompanying ye on the journey south.”
“Pleased to meet ye all.” The remaining men nodded their agreement but looked anxious to get going.
They rode out of the clearing and made their way down the well-worn path to the main road. The men took up position behind them, and Blair pulled her mare next to his.
Continuing on, Finlay studied his new wife out of the corner of his eye but kept a close watch on their surroundings. She seemed content to study the landscape, and many miles passed in companionable silence. As they followed the path and the cottage of a nearby farmer came into view, she asked, “Where does yer mother live?”
“Nae too far, just up the road a bit more, but ye cannae see it from the trail.” He pointed in the general direction.
The brook that trailed the path came into view.
“Och, ’tis lovely.”
“Aye, and there is a bonny waterfall no’ too far away. When we return, I’ll take ye to see it.” The thought of his wife naked, bathing beneath the water, had him shifting in his seat.
“I’d like that.” Her smile was genuine, and it reached into his chest, causing a flutter of something that seemed like contentment.
“There are many things ye will love about the Cameron lands.”
“Do ye go to Kentillie often?”
“I usually go every day and practice with the men in the lists. When we get back, if ye’d like to go with me, ye can visit with Kirstie while I’m there.”
“I’d love that. I’m so happy for Kirstie and Alan.”
“Aye. ’Twas a long time coming.”
Blair continued to pepper him with questions as they passed landmarks he’d long ago committed to memory. All of which had become mere scenery, but each caught her attention and reminded him of how lucky he was to have a home with the Cameron clan.
For a few years now, he’d made the trip to England alone and was accustomed to the silence. He found himself enjoying her soothing voice and waiting for the next question, yearning to know more about her by seeing what she was curious about. It seemed to be everything.
He hoped she would be as enthusiastic about the estate in England, and that the mistrustful, rude attitudes of the Sassenachs he called family wouldn’t dampen her zest for life in the hostile landscape as it had his.
…
Stopping for the midday meal—well, really, it was almost late afternoon—Blair was relieved to climb down from the horse for a little while to rest her sore rear end. She wasn’t accustomed to long travel, and between the trip to Kentillie and now this one, she was sure her bottom was bruised. But the last thing she wanted to do was complain to her new husband or the other Cameron men.
Her husband had not even tried to bed her on their wedding night. What if he wasn’t attracted to her? Her chest ached at the horrid thought.
She’d lain awake for what felt like hours, terrified of what the act of intimacy would be like with him, finally falling asleep. She’d woken to Finlay cradling her in his strong arms after he’d crawled into bed. The embrace had been tender and reassuring.
When the soothing tone of his voice skidded across her ear as he whispered something about protecting her, she sank into the warmth of his body. It was the first time she’d ever felt treasured and appreciated by a man, and she feigned sleep so the moment wouldn’t end. The last thing she wanted to do now was show him that she couldn’t be a good and dutiful wife, so she would soldier on.
Her husband did not converse as freely as she did, but his actions showed he was attentive to her needs and cared for her well-being. The men behind them were as quiet and solemn as her new husband. If she’d been thinking, maybe she would have asked for a maid to accompany them, but she’d had no time to plan anything since the moment Finlay had walked into her well-organized world.
So far, although Finlay was caring, he seemed preoccupied. He pushed them on as if the devil himself were after them, even looking over his shoulder often and squinting to take in everything they’d left behind. She let it go and watched the scenery as they rode along, taking in the wildflowers and lavender blooming on the lush green mountains as they gradually faded into the distance. The weather had been beautiful, and she enjoyed the mild temperatures and sunshine on her face. But, the threat of coming storms surrounded them like a plaid that had been left in a cool loch, then draped over her shoulders.
After having the horses taken to the stables, they walked toward a medium-sized inn in a small village that lay at the end of a dense part of forest.
“Finlay Cameron. Welcome back. Is it that time again already?” A thin redheaded man with a full beard met them at the door before Finlay had the chance to knock or push it in.
Her husband nodded at the man who took a step back and looked at her.
“Ye have company with ye this trip.” The innkeeper’s eyes roamed over her and the rest of the group, and his face seemed to pinch in with confusion.
“Aye, my wife and some Cameron men. Can we have a table and whatever yer serving today? ’Twill be a short visit.”
The man’s eyes brightened, either pleased Finlay had taken a wife or that her husband had brought more business his way. “Och, let me see what we can do. The kitchen was closed a short time ago.” The innkeeper’s head bobbed as he gave the impression of counting them silently. His lips quirked to the side before he continued, “’Tis no’ a problem. I’ll check with the cook to see what can be done.”
“I can help.” Blair needed something to do after all that time sitting astride her horse, and she smiled at the innkeeper, who instead of insisting she not assist, looked relieved. She made her way through the door and into the quaint room that was darkening to match the gloom sett
ling over the outside.
Assessing the lack of seats at the two small tables in the room, she turned back to Finlay. “If ye will see to pushing the tables together and securing seats, I’ll see what the cook has available.” He nodded, and she ambled back to the kitchen.
After discussing the options with the cook, and letting the woman know she couldn’t have anything with dairy in it, she returned to the room where the men were all seated, a chair to Finlay’s right open for her.
Happy she’d been helpful, she strolled toward the table to join them. Just as she reached her chair, something heavy landed on her skirt. It jerked and pulled then repeated the jarring movements a couple more times. Looking down, she spied Satan’s spawn clamping onto her gown.
Big eyes, orange and deceptively adorable, stared up at her until it looked back to the offending material and bit down, clawing, then making more ground by climbing toward her face.
She shrieked.
She danced back, afraid to touch it; the kitten clung tighter and let out little mewls intended to lull her into a false sense of security. She wasn’t fooled. The creature would claw her eyes out if she let it get closer.
Finlay was there, reaching down and collecting the little demon, but one claw stuck to her dress, and the animal refused to let go. She became aware of laughter, and her gaze shot from the creature to the Cameron men. Och, she’d tried so hard to look competent and take care of them. All her efforts wiped away by a little animal that arched its head into her husband’s gentle hand as he stroked it.
After Finlay set it down, the creature stumbled back toward the kitchen, knowing it had made a fool of her.
Brodie was the first to speak through the bursts of laughter. “I keep telling Skye those things are evil, but she won’t listen to me. I have to live with one of those furry beasts.”
Malcolm chimed in, “I’m surprised Kirstie didn’t keep them in the castle with ye.”
She closed her eyes and took a breath. Pushing away the irrational fear, she stood up tall, which just barely rose above the men seated at the tables. Cursing her height, she vowed to not look like an incompetent lass who couldn’t take care of herself in front of them again.
Highland Salvation Page 6
