The Love of Her Life (Highlander Heroes Book 6)

by Rebecca Ruger

  As hoped for, she grinned a bit and allowed, “Perhaps. Maybe. I might have only said lovely.”

  “Aye, it was that as well.” He kissed her again, his eyes open and on her. And then he whispered against her lips, “Promise me one thing, Katie. Whenever you begin to browbeat yourself, think of this night. Think how bold and fearless and passionate you were. She’s always inside you, that lass. I ken sometimes you’re afraid to let her live.”

  She closed her eyes and her mouth moved in such a way to suggest she might cry. She nodded instead and said, “As well you know, I’m...I’m not brave enough to give her full rein. This, what we’ve done, this is—"

  “This is desire,” he interjected curtly. “Dinna invent reasons to be angry with either yourself or me. It’s desire, same as mine for you. It’s no wrong or ugly or sinful. Just desire, a thousand glens full of it on my end. Aye, and we’re adults, Katie, and were both willing, that it makes no sense to overthink it. Aye, I wanted you, and aye, I’ll want you again, I ken. That dinna make me weak. Christ, lass, I’m more alive because of this need and desire for you than I have been in years.”

  This tilted her face upward, brought her troubled eyes to his, searching his face to find some guarantee of the truth of his words.

  “Let her out,” he said. “Let her live.”

  THAT VERY NEXT EVENING, Alec had advised Katie in the hall at supper that he was leaving the next morn and would be gone for two, mayhap three days, about some clan business with his father.

  “All right,” she’d said with some curiosity for the fact that he seemed to have sought her out simply to disclose this, his attentive expression telling her that her response was important.

  She’d spent last night, all of it, in his arms. He’d left her shortly before the sun had climbed over the hills, had kissed her and told her, “This is only the beginning, Katie.”

  Now, he sent a glance around them, and when assured that no one stood too close, he expounded, “I dinna want you to think I was ignoring or avoiding you.”

  She understood now. And couldn’t withhold a smile for him, for this thoughtfulness. He knew her well, as she supposed she might have done that very thing, wondered if he’d gotten what he wanted and so disappeared.

  “Thank you.”

  “Aye.”

  She’d been busy enough all day that she had not seen him at all until now. Busy had been a good thing, as it had not granted her time to overthink last night, as he’d supposed she might have. What rare moments she’d had for reflection had only served to bring the taste and smell and feel of him back to her. Now, she allowed her gaze to fall upon his mouth, memories flooding her and thrilling her, getting lost in her want of his lips on her.

  “Dinna do that, lass,” his husky voice startled her from her reverie.

  He looked as if he was torn between his own powerful, untimely desire and a great pleasure for having caught her experiencing the same.

  As innocently as she could, she asked, “Do what?” But good grief, her breathlessness didn’t help her cause.

  He shook his head at her, his lips pursed with a wee bit of warning, even while his eyes smiled at her. “It’s only unknown to all these people for your benefit. I would no’ care if Robert Bruce himself and all his army ken, but I ken you dinna want it bandied about. But, Katie Oliver, you keep looking at my mouth like you’re wanting to be attached to it, I’m going to make that happen for you.”

  Her belly flipped and a peculiar heat rose in her chest. She knew he wouldn’t disgrace her that way. He just wouldn’t. Yet, the promise in his dark eyes prompted her to challenge, “Right here?”

  Nodding, he vowed, “Right now.” There was something absolutely breathtaking about the light in his eyes just now, indeed in all his face. No shadows, no harshness, no anger, just his regard, warm and filled with promise.

  Aye, if she were truly brave....

  “Katie Oliver!”

  They blinked at the same time, the moment gone, though her heart continued to speed up, even as Alec’s father was shouting her name again.

  So now, two mornings later, Katie wondered if he were returned, if she might see him soon as she was on her way to the keep, hoping to beg a few candles from either Magdalena or the steward. Inside that narrow assemblage of trees between the village and the castle, Malcolm and Eleanor surprised her, being on foot, coming from the keep.

  She called out good morning and received Malcolm’s returned greeting. As they stopped directly in front of her, Katie lifted a brow and waited while Malcolm scratched his orange beard with some pretense at detachment while Eleanor heaved a great sigh. This was no casual meeting.

  “What? What has happened?” Her heart dropped into the bottom of her stomach.

  Eleanor cleared her throat and uttered without preamble, “I think I—I wonder if I may be with child.”

  Relief rushed through Katie. She pressed her hand to her chest. Oh, thank God. Henry and Alec were safe. Katie opened her mouth, but then passed a glance over at Malcolm, who stood very near, his mouth twisted to the right, one brow lifted. To Eleanor, she wondered, “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go back to my cottage—mayhap speak privately?”

  The look exchanged between Eleanor and Malcolm explained much, Malcolm’s sudden grin meeting Eleanor’s eye-roll.

  “Oh, my,” Katie said, released with her breath.

  “Aye,” said Eleanor, “he was there when it happened.”

  Katie smiled wide herself. “Well, then.” She cleared her throat. “When did you have your monthly last?”

  “’Bout six weeks ago.”

  “It was no’,” Malcolm argued. “Was before the fight near Eddleston. Aye, I remember because I’d wanted to celebrate with a good—”

  “Stop speaking,” Eleanor instructed him, pointing her finger at him. She turned to Katie. “He may be right though, possibly it’s been longer.”

  Ignoring her own want to giggle at this pair and this most amazing and incredulous circumstance, Katie remained straight-faced and inquired, “Are you typically very regular?”

  Malcolm answered, “You can chart the moon by it.”

  “Say one more word,” Eleanor warned without turning toward the father of her child.

  “Aye, I’ll be quiet, but dinna forget to tell her how your breasts ache now.” To Katie, he included, “She will no’ even let me touch them.”

  Sensing he wasn’t helping what surely was a mammoth fright for Eleanor, Katie took her hands and pulled her attention to her. “Aye, you are likely with child then.” At the face Eleanor pulled—Katie couldn’t believe that the woman looked about to cry—Katie insisted, “And as ever, no matter the circumstance, bairns are always welcome, are they not? I’m so thrilled for you, Eleanor. You’ll be a wonderful mother.”

  Eleanor pursed her lips, and gathered all her strength to admit to Katie, “I dinna ken how. What if I’m no’?”

  Katie squeezed her hands and said quite earnestly, “But you do know how. You’ve been at it for weeks with Henry. I can see all the love you have to give. Your circumstance is perfect—you have a home and a man who obviously loves you and a roof over your head and food in your belly. That’s the hard part, already done. Love is easy.”

  “But how to nurse it and dress it, change it—what if it gets sick?”

  There was something curiously charming about her insecurities. “First, we’ll start with not calling the babe it. Next, picture me, alone in that tiny cottage, giving birth to Henry by myself, having to learn by trial and error, making up most of it as I went. My God, Eleanor, if I can do that—you can surely conquer anything. And I’m here to help. I adore babies.”

  “Should have some more of your own,” Malcolm supposed.

  Both women ignored him. Katie said, “Enjoy the next few months, Eleanor. Embrace it. You will be the mother of great men and women, I vow. It’s such a remarkable thing to experience, all of it. Don’t ruin it with worry...like I did.”

  �
��Aye. Thank you.”

  Katie accepted the small gratitude but sensed that Eleanor wasn’t yet ready to accept it. It would take time, but she would come around, Katie was sure. She’d spoken truth—the way Eleanor interacted with Henry promised she would indeed be a fierce and loving mother.

  Just as Katie recognized the sound of a rider approaching, Eleanor looked over Katie’s shoulder and grumbled, “Bluidy hell.” To Katie, she said, “I dinna want him—anyone—to ken just yet.”

  Him was Alec, who reined in his horse near Malcolm, looking from one to the next, a question in his gaze, as handsome as ever. Her excitement over his return was then clouded by this wee situation. If not for Malcolm and Eleanor, she wondered what her response to his appearance just now might have been. Would she have happily gone to him? Run to him? “Good day,” Katie said, her smile genuine even as she was forced to give him a fib. “We were just discussing Eleanor’s scratchy throat. Thankfully, I think it’s naught but the change in weather, disrupting her phlegmatic humors.”

  Malcolm chimed in, too hastily, too loud and stiff, “I dinna ken what that means, but I hope it’s no’ contagious.”

  Katie rolled her eyes, much as Eleanor might have, and glared at the captain. “I can promise you, that her condition is not contagious.”

  “Eejit,” Elanor grumbled.

  “Hm,” was all Alec said. He addressed Katie singularly then, “Are you busy then? After this? I need a few minutes of your time as well.”

  Katie looked to Eleanor, letting her decide. If the woman needed more of her time, more assurance that everything would be well, she would stay with her.

  Eleanor nodded, saying, “It’ll be fine.”

  “I promise you it will,” Katie said, with some vehemence.

  “Verra well.”

  Eleanor and Malcolm ambled away, Eleanor giving the big man a swat on his shoulder, for what specifically Katie could only guess. Naturally, she would have dwelled on the pair’s situation just now, the revelation so startling, but for Alec’s presence. She tilted her face up at him, awaiting either a warmer greeting than the stiff one he’d given thus far, or for him to launch into what he might need to discuss.

  “Come up with me,” he said, directing his destrier closer. He stretched out his hand, bending toward her.

  More puzzled than wary, Katie lifted her hand and met his, strong and steady and warm. As was all of him, always.

  With little effort, Alec was able to lift her up, and she settled in the small space at the front of the saddle, her legs to the left, nearly sitting atop his powerful thigh. He circled his arms around her to manage the reins and Katie clung to one forearm as he clicked his tongue and sent the beast into a slow jog.

  They turned and rode past the village, on the outskirts, behind the outermost cottages and then charged up the hill where the livestock grazed and across the rock and thistle and heather on the other side. Beyond that, they entered a thicker forest of beautiful silver birch, their leaves falling now, the ground awash in color.

  Inside these trees, Alec reined in where a small clearing opened, where the sun penetrated and gave light to a large circle of orange and red leafed earth. He swung his leg around the back and slid smoothly off the huge horse and then reached for Katie, his hands finding her waist and pulling her downward until she stood close to him.

  And then he kissed her. Not dramatically, or with some effort to have more, just briefly, and followed it with, “Aye, and that’s now a proper greeting.”

  She couldn’t help but be amused by this, by his lightness.

  He took her hand and led her to the circle of sunlight, stopping her and turning her to face, which felt more or less as if he were positioning her, that she wondered, “Am I to be sacrificed?” Katie lifted her face to the sun before bringing her gaze back to Alec.

  He rather winced. “You might want to rethink that question, but after I say what I’m bound to say.”

  He took a step back, away from her, that Katie’s brow fell, curious, and now indeed a wee bit wary.

  Alec took a deep breath. “Katie, I...I should no’ have dishonored you—that’s what I did, insisting it was naught but desire, that it was perfectly fine to act upon it. That remains true, and I canna regret it for my own self, but it occurred to me that it was yet a dishonorable thing to do. I ken women look at it differently.”

  She wasn’t sure if she needed to, or was expected to, respond to this, supposing there was more to come.

  He cleared his throat and continued. “And I dinna ken if it’s merely that, or if mayhap I’d have gotten around to it anyway—eventually—but having acted dishonorably, I mean to repair that, and therefore, I’ll be asking you to wed with me.”

  Katie blinked several times, trying to fathom his words, their meaning. His scowl, his very earnestness might better lend itself to ordering about his army or taking a tradesman to task for the poor quality of his workmanship. It did not, in any way, connect well with issuing a proposal of marriage.

  “You want to wed me...to restore your honor?” Was all she could think to say.

  Naturally, he frowned. “And yours,” he said. “You were going to tell Gordon Killen that you would wed him, thought he might keep you safe, but I ken there was naught between you and him but pity, mayhap. Many reasons to wed. This makes good sense, I figure. I want very much to...repeat what we did, but I can no’, if it means bringing greater dishonor to you. Also, it would give you further protection, bring you into the keep—you and Henry—you’d want for nothing, all your life. Your son would grow as the child of the next laird of Swordmair, his future locked into this house.” He shrugged, putting out additional motivation, “We get on well enough, as you do with my parents. That’s essential, I ken.”

  There was some charm in his sudden and apparent sheepishness. She had to wonder if he’d practiced this monologue a bit before approaching her. Still, the substance of his arguments—as far as proposals went—left much to be desired. If she understood it correctly, the essence of it seemed to be that he wanted to marry her for the same reason as her first husband, so that he might make good use of her body, at his leisure.

  However, he was correct that she’d been set—determined—to marry Gordon Killen, as old as Swordmair’s laird, for her own selfish reasons. Thus, who was she to condemn his?

  Admittedly, her heart was gripped immediately by a thrill, but to wed....

  She hadn’t removed her gaze from him, even as she let her mind skim over...everything. She had feelings for him, she could not deny that, not to herself. Yet, those emotions, desire aside and whatever the whole of them were, had not been deeply investigated yet, and she had not ever, not for one moment, thought that he might suggest they wed.

  She knew now—had known for a wee bit—that she craved his kiss and his touch, and she liked his rare smiles, knew that he was a solid man, of figure and honor and morals, she believed.

  But to wed....

  HE WAS BUNGLING IT, he knew. She was staring at him as if he’d sprouted a beak, mayhap feathers as well.

  He’d given it thought. Obviously. He’d not just ridden up into that curious scene with Malcom and Elle and Katie and decided he would propose they marry. But this—his actual words—had come just now, without any planning. What he’d thought over the last few days was, I dinna want any other to touch you. I want all your smiles. I want you as my own. Always. Yet, having supposed that emotion wouldn’t have persuaded his always-wary Katie, he convinced himself that a practical offer, listing all the reasons it would benefit her, was all it would take to not have the thing thrown back at him.

  While she stared at him, he realized just now that riding away from Swordmair had been ill-advised. He’d wanted privacy, of course, but now as her silence lengthened, he understood that if she refused him, it was going to be one hell of an uncomfortable ride back to Swordmair.

  Finally she spoke. “You keep asking things of me that are so...difficult to say yes to. First to come
to Swordmair, then to kiss you, to be...intimate with you. Now to wed. Have you something to beg of me that it might prove easier to say yes?”

  Somewhere in there, she’d just hinted either that she really hated to disappoint people, or she was yet conflicted by his attention. Jesu, but if the lovemaking hadn’t swayed her....

  And, he knew, she was stalling.

  Vaguely, his mind churning for his next tactic, he said, “But you keep saying aye, so I’ll keep asking.”

  “Well, I...” She began, but this trailed off. She was unconvinced, he could very well see, could not meet his gaze, keeping it on the grass at her feet.

  It would be a sorrowful crime if his inept handling of the words produced the wrong result, he knew. So he did what he knew would speak so much more eloquently than he ever could. He moved toward her, caught her lifted gaze and the sharp intake of breath just as he slid his arms all the way around her and joined his lips to hers. She needed to know that this was alive and real and wasn’t going anywhere, his want of her.

  She returned the kiss eagerly, her initial befuddlement dissolving quickly, her hands finding him, her tongue meeting his. He crushed her to him, sliding his hands down to circle her bottom, pressing her against his groin. She moaned in response, her fingers sliding into his hair, tilting her face to receive his kiss fully.

  He whispered against her lips, “Say you’ll wed me, Katie Oliver.” He didn’t even care if she agreed only for this, so long as she was, and remained, his.

  Her eyes stayed closed. She dropped her face a bit, that his next kiss was pressed to her forehead while she nodded.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Aye, and you tell me all that,” Alexander MacBriar said to his son, “and I can no’ find fault with any of it. I ken the lass is good and kind—and we all ken she’s clever and would no doubt be a good mistress one day to Swordmair.”

  “Then I have your approval?” Alec wondered.

  They sat inside his mother’s solar, two overlarge men fitted poorly into the small furniture, a fire in the hearth to chase away the cold and gloom of the day. At the table between them sat a cup of the vulgar tea Katie insisted his father drink—and which the man did with nary a complaint, though Alec could smell from here how awful it must be.