She smiled. “What do ye mean?”
His eyes rolled open. “Because all I can think of at this moment is making love tae ye and ye willna let me touch ye.”
With a grin, she launched herself at him, putting her face in the crook of his neck as they fell back together on the straw mattresses. His arms went around her as they settled down by the brazier, facing one another.
“So much has happened,” she murmured. “Today was a day of days and now we find ourselves going home. Yer home. Ye know I’ve never had a proper home? Not in my entire life.”
“That will change,” he said confidently, releasing her long enough to pull his tunic over his head. When Lucia saw what he was doing, she pulled off her shift without hesitation. When his breeches were in a pile on the floor, he quickly gathered her into his arms again, his heat against hers.
“Trust me, my angel,” he said. “Ye’ll have everything I can provide for ye and more.”
Her naked skin against his, Lucia was giddily content. “But where?” she asked. “Ye’ll return tae the Cal tae train men for some time. Is that where we’ll have our home? Or do ye intend tae stay in the Highlands?”
He smoothed loose strands of hair away from her face. “I hope tae return tae the Cal soon,” he said. “Going tae Ledmore—that is simply tae make peace with my da.”
“But ye dunna intend tae stay?”
“I dunna know,” he said honestly. “I’ll know more when we arrive. But I do know one thing—wherever I go, ye’ll go. We’re family, now and forever.”
“I’ve never really known a family,” Lucia said softly. “My da served at Meadowbank while I lived with my aunt. For years, it was that way. I can remember dreaming of my own family someday, with ten children around me and a handsome husband. It may seem like a silly dream, but once, it was mine.”
“It isna a silly dream,” he said. “But ten children…”
She laughed. “How many did ye have in mind?”
“One tae start with, I suppose.”
“And then?”
“As many as God will give us.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her gaze melding with his. “Then let us start now.”
“Now?”
Lucia was resolute. “Why not?” She touched his cheek, smiling in response to his surprise. “Can ye imagine anything better than children tae carry on yer name?”
No, he really couldn’t. They’d never spoken of children, but she was making her wishes known. Truth was, he’d never thought of children at all until this very moment. Now, a son to carry on his name seemed like the best gift he could possibly receive.
A legacy he’d never thought he would have.
“A son,” he said softly. “It seems like a dream tae even think such a thing.”
“It could be a lass. Would ye be disappointed?”
“Never.”
Lucia gazed at him, feeling the pull of emotion overwhelm her. She brushed her lips against his. “Then give me yer son, Bane Morgan,” she breathed against his mouth. “Give me the honor of bearing yer child.”
He growled, pulling her tight against him and plunging his tongue into her mouth. Lucia wrapped her legs around his hips, feeling his arousal push at her. Bane’s hand was at her breast, his lips against her forehead as he whispered words of desire.
With every kiss, every word, the fire in her loins grew and she thrust her pelvis forward, capturing the tip of his seeking manhood. Bane groaned as he finished what she had started by thrusting into her hot, waiting body.
The first full thrust rocked her. Lucia gasped with pleasure, holding fast to him for support as he thrust into her again and again.
“Do it harder, Bane,” she said breathlessly.
Her words of lust lit a fire in him that could not be controlled. He pounded into her welcoming body, determined to make this time last longer than he had the last time. He wanted to enjoy every move, every touch, every emotion.
Lucia groaned with pleasure beneath him, lifting her pelvis to meet his. She savored the heat he was creating within her, remembering how Bane had so deftly given her release with his expert touch. But she simply couldn’t wait. Reaching up, she pulled his mouth to her swollen lips.
“Make me feel as ye did at the Cal,” she whispered. “The heat…the feelings, Bane. Let me feel them again.”
“In time,” he whispered.
With that, he took firm hold of her hips and rolled onto his back, still joined to her body. Lucia gasped with the unexpected move as she ended up on top, straddling him. Bane grinned wolfishly, his hands moving to her breasts.
“Make yer own feelings, my angel.” He thrust his hips upward, impaling her on his body. “Move yer body against me, like this.”
Hair in her face, Lucia looked bewildered, but Bane moved again, thrusting into her from his position beneath her until she caught on. Rising on her knees, she plunged her body down upon him again and again, biting her lip in delight when he groaned.
“Do ye like this?” she asked.
He could only nod his head, closing his eyes to the glory of the moment. She smiled at his reaction to her; it made her feel powerful. Her rhythm became steady, and in little time, Lucia felt the ripples of release rolling through her body. Beneath her, Bane could feel the contractions and he clutched her body against his as he released himself deep.
For a moment, neither of them had the strength or will to move. Lucia remained straddled over his hips, feeling the last of his climax die away. She was exhausted, but in a good way. She was his wife now and the closeness she felt to the man was more than she could verbalize. He was part of her, and she was part of him, until the end of time.
As he said…they were a family.
Finally, she lay down upon him and his big arms went around her, holding her close. His gentle touch, his hand tenderly caressing her hair, told her that he was feeling the same way she was.
Warm…content…
Loved.
When morning came, she was still in the exact same position, curled up on Bane’s chest.
It had been the best night of her life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The journey north to Ledmore had taken much longer than Lucia had imagined.
It was winter, which meant the weather was vicious at times even though Bane had assured her that it was a mild winter in the Highlands from his experience. Given the fact that she had spent her entire life either at her aunt’s home in Selkirk or at Meadowbank, a journey of this magnitude was overwhelming.
The path was not easy, nor was it swift. At times, the weather turned sour and they were forced to seek refuge. Once, when they reached the village of Killiecrankie, a snowstorm blew in and they spent five solid days bunking with a farmer and his wife. That hadn’t been too terrible, in truth, as the couple was more than happy for the company and Lucia spent those days helping the farmer’s wife and playing with their small children.
It had magical moments.
Bane had watched his new wife playing with the children, thinking that she would make a wonderful mother and falling in love with her more every day. The storm eventually cleared and they continued onward, traveling through a winter-white land as they moved deeper into the Highlands.
In spite of the winter beauty, the truth was that it was very cold. Bane had purchased furs from a trapper in the town of Dunkeld that Lucia had sewn together to make two very fine cloaks. That was the same place where he’d also purchased a mare for Lucia to ride since the burden of two people on Aethon was heavy.
Wrapped in their fur cloaks and riding separate horses, Bane and Lucia made better time through the Highlands, sometimes covering fifteen miles a day if the weather wasn’t too horrible. Aethon had settled down admirably and was an excellent traveling horse, and Lucia’s mare was sturdy and comfortable.
All things considered, the journey, though long, wasn’t as bad as it could have been. Bane made sure to stop every night and find his wife a bed, even if that bed was a warm stable with clean straw. He did his very best to ensure Lucia was comfortable, and she was appreciative of his efforts. It seemed that the man she’d first met, who seemed incapable of taking care of himself, was very good at taking care of others.
The man she’d first met in that dank, dirty alley no longer existed.
The Highland Defender had returned.
When their journey finally came to the seaside village of Ullapool, Bane informed Lucia that his home of Ledmore was a mere two days away, and she was thrilled to realize they were nearing the end of their journey. But Bane didn’t seem too excited. In fact, he seemed subdued.
They had used some of the last of their coinage to rent a room in Ullapool at a tavern called the Queen’s Ax. It sat on the edge of town, next to the main road, and the window of their chamber overlooked that road and the massive loch beyond. They’d arrived at sunset and Bane had a hot bath brought to Lucia, who sat in the dented copper tub until the water cooled off and she was forced to get out.
As she dried off in front of the fire, Bane climbed into the cool water and bathed with the soap she’d brought from Meadowbank, the savon d’Alep that reminded him so much of her. He kept trying to splash her with the cold water, causing her to squeal. She finally moved out of firing range, braiding her damp hair in the warmth of the fire.
“Stop throwing water at me or ye’ll be very sorry,” she said. “I willna be so nice tae ye and let ye use my soap.”
He grinned as he washed the soap from his hair. “I was thinking of shaving my beard for ye, but I’ll rethink that if ye’re going tae be cruel.”
She snorted. “Cruel, am I? Consider it a favor I’m doing ye because ye smell like one of those sheep we passed on the road. Ye look like one, too, with that fuzzy face.”
He laughed quietly as he began to froth up his beard with the slimy soap. “A man has a right tae smell as he pleases,” he said. “Ye’ve not complained before.”
“I am now.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Fickle wench,” he said. Then he pointed at his satchel. “Can ye find my razor? Be cautious, it’s sharp.”
Carefully, Lucia felt around in his satchel until she came across the razor he kept wrapped up in canvas. It was the same razor that Tynan had brought him at Meadowbank those months ago. Pulling it forth, she handed it to him, butt-end first. Bane sat in the water, looking into it, until it stopped moving enough that he could use it as a mirror.
“So ye decide tae shave that off now,” Lucia said. “Why? It keeps yer face warm.”
He took off a whole strip on the left side of his face. “Because my da will have a difficult enough time recognizing me without this forest growing on my face,” he said. “Besides…I thought ye’d rather have a clean-shaven husband.”
She was back over at the fire, brushing out the ends of her braid. “I will admit that yer whiskers are bristly like horsehair,” she said. “Sometimes when ye kiss me, my face is raw from it.”
“I know,” he said, rinsing off the razor and waiting until the water calmed again. “I can see how red yer skin is all over yer body after we’ve fornicated.”
She frowned. “Do ye have tae call it that? That’s what Colly called it and—”
He shushed her gently. “I’m sorry, my angel,” he said. “I willna use that word again. I will simply say that we’re doing the devil’s dance.”
She looked at him in horror. “What?”
“Belly bumping?”
Lucia burst out laughing. “Nay! Bane, that’s terrible!”
He pretended to ignore her as he shaved the right side of his face. “I’ve heard it called beating the guts. Is that better?”
“Stop this instant!”
She was laughing so hard that she could scarcely breathe, which brought out the naughty boy in him. “We’ll call it docking the boat. Ye’re the dock and I’m the—”
“Enough!” Lucia was far gone with laughter, hand over her mouth. “Ye’re a terrible, terrible man. How dare ye say such things about…that. Something we do that’s an expression of our love.”
He was grinning as he looked at her; it was such an adorably dastardly grin. “And it means the world tae me,” he said, sobering. “I was only jesting, my angel. It’s good tae see ye laugh.”
She was still chuckling. “And ye,” she said. “I dunna think we’ve laughed enough. We need tae laugh more.”
“And we shall,” he said, washing the remainder of the suds from his face and rubbing his hands over his cheeks and chin. “I’ll think up more names tae call dipping my wick, and I’ll make ye laugh until ye cry.”
Lucia was torn between screeching and laughing until he put up his hands in surrender. “I know,” he said. “Ye said enough. I’ll stop. Now—how does my face look?”
Lucia went over to her mischievous husband, inspecting his cheeks. “Very clean,” she said. “Ye look like the man I fell in love with.”
He beamed. “Good,” he said, splashing around again and causing her to move away from the tub. “Tomorrow, my da will actually know who I am. I hope…I truly hope he’s glad tae see me.”
He climbed out of the tub and she grew serious. “He will be, willna he?” she said. “Surely a man would be glad tae see his own son.”
Bane took the same drying linen she had used, damp from her, and began to rub his big body down with it. “My da is a man of calm and reasonable temperament,” he said. “I’ve not thought much about him until I met ye and forced myself tae remember things I’d tried hard tae forget. I realize that I miss my da very much. I’m eager tae see him.”
Lucia could see the strain on his face, the strain of longing for a loved one. Standing up from the stool she’d been sitting on, she gently pushed him to sit on it as she took the drying linen and began to dry his hair.
“Tell me about yer village,” she said. “Ye were born there, werena ye?”
Bane closed his eyes as she gently buffeted his head, remembering the place where he’d lived most of his life. It seemed like so long ago.
“Aye,” he said. “Ledmore is the small village. But the place where I was born is a tower that has been in my family for two hundred years. Latheron Tower has four floors and is built with thick walls and little windows. I was born on the second floor and my mother, Valery, passed away shortly thereafter.”
Lucia put the towel aside and picked up her comb, pulling it through his thick brown hair. “Who raised ye?”
“My da,” he said. “I had uncles who had wives, but they were busy with my cousins. No one had time for me, but I dinna mind. My da and I were close when I was young.”
She continued to comb. “But that changed after Jedburgh.”
“Aye.”
She cocked her head thoughtfully. “He probably thinks ye’ve just run away,” she said. “What I mean is, he couldna think ye were dead, could he? Surely, he thought ye’ve run off and will return any day.”
Bane shrugged. “Possibly.”
He sat there for a few moments, enjoying her attention, letting her comb his hair until she teasingly made an attempt to braid it and he’d had enough. He stood up and went to find his clothing.
“I’m going tae go tae the common room and bring us back some warmed wine,” he said. “Is there anything else ye’d like?”
“Can I come with ye?”
“If ye dress in something proper, ye can.”
She looked down at the sleeping shift she was wearing. As Bane pulled on his leather breeches and not one but two heavy tunics, she quickly donned the dark-green wool that Lady Currie had given her. It was tight around the bust but flowing everywhere else, with sleeves that were long enough to wrap her hands up in. It was warm an
d comfortable, and Bane took her hand as they headed down into the common room of the bustling tavern.
Given that snow flurries had started again, the tavern was full. People were piling in from outside, finding any space available to stay warm. The hearth was low and wide, and it gave off an enormous amount of heat into the small, stuffy room.
Bane moved for the kitchens. He had been very frugal on their way north, but they’d come down to their last few coins and he was going to have to see about earning more money before they could travel back to Edinburgh and the Ludus Caledonia. Were it just him, he wouldn’t have worried because he could have slept anywhere or eaten whenever the opportunity presented itself, but he wouldn’t do that to Lucia. She had changed his whole perspective on travel.
She had changed his perspective on life.
“Bane?”
He heard his name and it had not come from his wife. Puzzled, not to mention on his guard, he quickly turned to the source and saw three men sitting at a nearby table, looking at him in shock.
He knew their faces.
They were sitting by the kitchens, huddled around a small table with a broken leg, and the moment he recognized them, his eyes widened in astonishment.
“Hamlin?” he gasped. “And Dougal, and little Ramsey? Christ, lads, is it really ye?”
Suddenly, Lucia was pushed out of the way by a mob of men rushing her husband. She would have thought they were attacking him except for one thing—they were hugging him instead of producing weapons. They were crowing happily instead of screaming in anger. The one that had called Bane by name was kissing her husband on both cheeks, clearly glad to see him.
And Bane seemed very glad to see them as well.
“Lads, let me introduce ye to my wife,” Bane said, reaching out to grasp Lucia by the hand. He pulled her against him tightly. “This is my wife, Lucia. Angel, these are men I hold most dearly. These are my cousins Hamlin, Dougal, and Ramsey Morgan. Their fathers are my father’s younger brothers.”
The men looked at Lucia with warmth and curiosity and, truthfully, a good deal of surprise. Hamlin was big and dark, like Bane, while Dougal had bushy red hair. “Little” Ramsey wasn’t so little; he was quite tall and dark, but he was also very young. She smiled politely.
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