by Terry Spear
Catriona stood to sup on the stew and small ale Myra had set on a side table, thanking her cousin once more as she left. She’d just finished the last bite of stew when Arbella entered the room.
“The men will leave at first light,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“For Buchanan?”
Arbella nodded, going to stand beside her brother and whisking a loose lock from his forehead.
“Myra told me what Samuel did for you,” she said. “He was always so honorable.”
Catriona stiffened. “Is, Arbella. He is honorable.”
“That’s what I meant.” She sat in the chair Catriona had occupied. “I was so worried about him overseas. Not knowing if he lived or died. And then to see him for the first time in years and it be with an arrow in his chest.” Her voice broke off on a sob, her hand clasping to her lips.
Catriona, wanting to comfort her, took the seat where Myra had been. “He’s here now. Samuel is a fighter.” She told Arbella of how he’d convinced the king to let him accompany Sir Geoffrey and that he’d secretly been on a mission of his own to find his sisters.
“And now he is a traitor to England?” Arbella asked, her mouth forming an O of alarm.
“Samuel is quick-witted. I’m certain he can remove any doubt from his king’s mind of his allegiance.”
“If that is what he chooses.” Arbella nodded. “But how could that be the case with a Scottish wife?”
Catriona felt her face drain. She’d forgotten about that tiny detail. A dangerous slip to make.
“I see you’d not thought of that. Were you not planning to accompany him back to England?” Arbella eyed her with suspicion.
Catriona glanced at Samuel, her heart lurching to see him so weakened when she knew him only as strong. “We hadna gotten that far.” She spoke the truth, for they’d only gotten as far as a steamy kiss and the hopes and dreams that came along with it. She sighed deeply. “All I knew was that he’d saved me, that I was helping him find his sisters. ’Twas a grand adventure, a whirlwind.”
Arbella let out a short laugh. “As it is with all love. An adventure over many hills and valleys.”
Love? Was that what this was that she felt?
Chapter 12
ONE moment Samuel was in the woods fighting outlaws and the next he was lying in bed, his chest giving off a subtle burn. From the weakened state of his muscles, he felt as though he’d been lying there for several days, maybe even a sennight.
He blinked open his eyes to see Catriona asleep in a chair beside him, her hand clutched in his. A small table beside the bed held the remains of what looked like a cloth, water and soap for bathing. He didn’t feel as grimy as he should for having been in bed for so long. Must have had a bath. Had she been the one to bathe him?
Just how long had he been lying in this bed?
He rubbed his eyes and with it came pieces of memory he had no recollection of encountering. Incredible pain. Confusion. His sister. Another woman he didn’t recognize. But most blatant was a confession in the midst of delirium in which Catriona told him she’d lied to everyone, that she’d made up a story that they were married in order to keep him safe. Was it a fever induced dream? Or had she truly told everyone they were man and wife?
Samuel watched her sleep now, her face thinner than he remembered. Her hair a mess. And yet, she was still as beautiful as ever. He wouldn’t mind being married to her. She’d been genuine with him from the start and he liked who she was. A feisty, honorable, driven, loyal woman. And arousing as hell.
He recalled vividly that kiss by the warm spring. How he wanted to relive it again.
Shifting in the bed, he gave her hand a little squeeze, and said, “Is it morning or night, wife?”
Catriona’s eyes bolted open. “What?” she said, her lips pursing, pallor fading.
“Did you not say that I was your husband?”
She shook her head, but from the expression on her face, he was pretty certain she remembered it clearly. So, it hadn’t been a dream, and that pleased him more than he was willing to admit.
“Ye’ve suffered a fever.”
“Ah,” he drawled out. “Is that why I feel addle-brained?”
She nodded mutely.
“And is that why I recall a grand tale of our escape and our marriage in a kirk?”
Now her cheeks flamed red, and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
The door to the chamber opened, and he continued with his story, knowing exactly what would happen.
“I remember it. You were so beautiful standing with me at the altar. Our hands clasped as we recited our vows. I took you to wife, vowing to keep you safe, to cherish you and you agreed to love and obey me for all of our days. In sickness and in health. We’ve weathered sickness now.”
A sigh from the doorway made Samuel grin widely at Catriona who looked ready to faint.
“How long have I been asleep, my wife? And how long have you watched over me, praying for me to live so we might live out our days in happiness?”
“Nearly a fortnight,” said the woman by the door.
Samuel turned his head, feigning shock at the intrusion. This was one of the women he recalled from his dreams. “And who might you be, an angel?”
She ducked her head and giggled, while Catriona yanked her hand away and gave a huff.
“Nay, sir, but Lady Myra, my husband is Laird Murray. This is our castle.”
“My thanks for your hospitality,” he said with sincerity.
“Ye’re most welcome. Catriona is my cousin, and my husband is cousin to your sisters’ husbands.”
Samuel raised a brow. He did recall briefly that Arbella was happily married or so she confessed and that Aliah was, too, but he was still hoping to have heard wrong. “Sisters’ husbands?”
“Aye, Magnus Sutherland is wed to Arbella and Blane Sutherland to Aliah.”
He tried to sit up, but Catriona gently pushed him back down, handing him a minty tisane to sip. “Are they here? I must speak to them all.”
Myra frowned and glanced at Catriona. “Ye haven’t told him?”
His gaze flicked from one to the other and he frowned, setting the cup aside, suddenly fearful it was a sleeping drought. “Told me what?”
Catriona rolled her eyes back to his and frowned. “The men left about a sennight ago for Buchanan to get my castle back.”
He nodded with relief. He hoped the Highlanders had beat Sir Geoffrey and his men into the ground and that it wasn’t too late for Catriona’s brother and her people. Already too many had been slaughtered. “That is good. I pray they find your brother well and that they give Geoffrey exactly what he deserves. But what of Arbella? Aliah?”
“Arbella should be here momentarily. She had a few things to tend to, and a missive was sent to Aliah and Blane the day after ye arrived,” Catriona said. “They will be very pleased ye have woken.”
Samuel nodded. “Not as pleased as I am.”
The click of heels on the floorboards sounded as his sister, Arbella, entered the chamber. “I thought I heard the timber of a cranky knight’s voice,” she teased.
Samuel raised a brow. “I almost died and this is the love I get for it?” He held out his arms for his sister. She looked happier than he’d ever seen her.
“How is your wound?” Arbella said, coming forward to give him a gentle hug.
“It barely pains me.”
“Your wife has taken very good care of you,” Arbella said.
Samuel glanced at Catriona who had moved about six feet away and looked ready to bolt. He held out his hand to her, beckoning her forward, and knowing that she wouldn’t dare leave with Myra and Arbella in the room.
Just as he’d hoped, she stepped forward and took his hand. Her fingers were cold and she trembled slightly. When he looked up at her she no longer looked as indignant as she had before, but frightened instead. She stared straight ahead at the wall, and he couldn’t help but get the impression that she expected him to drop an ax on her head and
oust her lie to everyone. He would never. Not on her life, and not on his.
What she didn’t know was that he’d wanted so long to have someone to call his own. A woman to love and cherish. A woman just like Catriona. She’d claimed him, and now she was going to be stuck with him. That was—if she really wanted him. And he couldn’t imagine she wouldn’t. Wasn’t that why she’d stayed behind when she could have returned with the men to get her castle back?
“She is a wonderful woman,” Samuel said. “One I can’t envision not having in my life.” This time he spoke genuinely instead of teasing her as he had before.
Catriona turned her gaze on him, lips parting. He tugged on her hand. “Kiss me,” he said.
She gave a slight shake of her head
Arbella and Myra giggled. “We’ll leave the two of you alone.” When they reached the door, Arbella said loud enough for them to hear, “Love in its beginning growth is such a merry journey that only grows stronger as the years pass.”
The door clicked closed, and Samuel tugged on Catriona again. She tried to pull away, but he tugged her even harder until she tumbled down beside him with a squeak.
“There you go,” he murmured, nuzzling against her neck. She smelled of flowers and something distinctly her own. He buried his face in her hair and sucked in a deep breath.
“What are ye doing?” she asked.
“I’m going to kiss my wife,” he murmured.
She stilled. “But I’m not your wife and ye well know it.”
Samuel chuckled. “Ah, but I beg to differ. Did you not claim it? And did I not also claim it? Isn’t that the way of the Highlands? Who is to say otherwise?”
She tried halfheartedly to pull away. “The Lord and the priest who doesn’t exist.”
“Well, if he does not exist, then how can he say otherwise? And as for the Lord, we can make it right, we’ll go to the kirk right now.”
“What?” She felt his forehead. “Ye must still suffer a fever.”
Samuel snaked his arms around her waist, ignoring the dull ache in his chest. “I only suffer from need, lass. I want you to be my wife. I will gladly take this gift you offer.”
“Only because ye want to kiss me.”
“Nay. Well, aye, I do want to kiss you, but that is not why I want to marry you.” He stroked a hand up her back. She shivered against him, and just that subtle reaction brought an immense response from his own body. All the blood rushed from his extremities and straight to his groin. And it was at that moment he realized beneath the blanket, he was nude. He let out a groan. ’Twas as if the fates were setting him up. But he was getting ahead of himself. Words and vows first.
“Why do ye want to marry me?” Catriona propped up on her elbow to study his face. “Ye’re an Englishman, and ye hate the Scots.”
“Not so. I’ve only met three I disliked immensely and I dispatched them.”
“Well, ye canna dispatch of everyone ye dislike immensely, though I agree in the case of the three of whom ye speak.”
Samuel grinned. “Does that mean ye’ll marry me?”
“Ye still haven’t told me why I should.”
He wrapped a tendril of her hair around his finger, marveling at the softness. “Because, you fascinate me. I want to spend the rest of my life seeing what you’ll do next. Because even though I’ve not known you long, I know you well enough to tell when you’re scared, worried, embarrassed or that you want me to kiss you. Because I think I fell in love with you the moment I watched you stand up to that arsehole Geoffrey and I want to stand beside you when you tell every bastard you come across to bugger off. You stayed when you didn’t have to. Catriona, tell me that means something and that I’m not just delirious with the magic of your enchantment.”
“It means something,” she whispered, inching closer so that she could trace his jawline with her finger. “I’ve never trusted another like I do ye. Ye’ve kept me safe, cared for me, were tender with me. And when we speak, I feel like ye’re the only one who understands me. And this whole time”—her voice cracked—“when I thought ye might not wake, my heart ached. I realized I loved ye and that though I’d cooked up this scheme of our marriage, I wanted it to be real. I was terrified that when ye woke it would all be over.”
Samuel’s chest swelled with joy and love. “And now I’ve woken.”
“And it’s not over?”
“Not ever.” He tilted her chin with his fingertips and pressed his lips to hers, savoring the softness.
Chapter 13
CATRIONA eagerly kissed Samuel back, floating in the cloud of hope and the thrill of desire that thrummed through her veins.
Once more, he’d swept her up in his magic. A place she never wanted to descend from. Never in her wildest dreams or nightmares would she have thought she’d be lying in bed with a Sassenach, letting him stroke his hands over her back, her lips on his. And even if the thought had ever pierced her mind, it wasn’t as delicious and pleasant as this. Samuel knew just the way to touch his tongue to hers, the right amount of pressure to massage the muscles along her spine until she arched her back in pleasure, and just the slightest soft brush of his lips over hers to make her entire body tremble.
The one and only other time she’d been with a man had been disappointing. Her brother had been thinking of entering her into a contract for marriage with the man—a son of the Campbell chief. The young man had been so determined for the contract to go through that he’d seduced her with pretty words and then betrayed her—leaving her no longer a virgin. When her brother had changed her mind, she’d been both relieved and devastated. She’d thanked God every day when her monthly finally came.
Though she was no longer a virgin, at least she’d not born a child out of wedlock or been forced to marry the imbecile. But either way, it was a mar on her reputation that she needed to confess to this man who wished her to be his wife.
“Samuel,” she murmured against his lips. “There is something I have to tell ye.”
He slid his lips over her jawline to tease the lobe of her ear with his tongue. “Anything.”
Tremors snaked over her and she leaned in closer, wanting to feel that again. He was driving her to distraction with his tongue.
“I am not… pure.”
“None of us are pure, love.” He said it so easily, he must not know of what she spoke.
“Nay, ye dinna understand. I have been… compromised.” She closed her eyes, refusing to look at him. Her cheeks heated and she waited for the ridicules he was certain to toss at her.
Samuel stilled his movements, clasped his hands to either side of her face. “Look at me, Catriona.”
She shook her head. “Just tell me to leave and I will.”
“How could you say that?” His voice sounded hurt, prompting her to open her eyes. “I would never ask you to leave. Whether you are a virgin or not does not concern me, I know you are an honorable woman. But I must know one thing—were you raped? Was he an English knight?”
Wide-eyed with shock, she stared down into Samuel’s blue eyes. He never ceased to amaze her. “Nay. Nay, he was Scottish and he didna rape me. He used me.”
“Oh, love”—he stroked her cheek—“I’m so sorry.”
Catriona shook her head. “Ye dinna need to be sorry. I was naïve and I should have seen him for what he was.”
“I will never use you.” His voice was filled with conviction.
She locked her gaze on his, admiring the way his eyes changed color once more, a deeper blue with passion. “I know.”
He searched her gaze and threaded his fingers in hers. “I love you with every fiber of my being.”
“I love ye, too, Samuel. I love ye so much.” She squeezed his hand tight, half-expecting to wake from a dream.
“I want to make love to you. I want to show you what it is to be loved, cherished.”
She glanced down at the bandaging on his chest. He had healed so well, but it had only been a fortnight. Was that enough time? “But your in
jury.”
He shrugged, a wicked grin covering his lips. “Ah, ’tis nothing but a flesh wound now.”
Catriona raised her brows, feeling compelled to give him a dose of reality, for she truly did not want him to be injured further. “Ye almost died.”
“And now I feel more alive than ever.” He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed every knuckle, the warmth of his breath making her shiver with anticipation. Every place he touched burned with need.
She pulled their joined hands to her own lips and kissed him as he’d done to her. “I’m so grateful that ye weren’t taken away from me.”
Samuel closed his eyes, and blew out a jagged breath. She loved that she could make him feel the same way he made her feel.
“I’m grateful you forced them to bring you to the castle,” he said.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly forced.” She grinned and winked.
Samuel chuckled. “Ye’re a clever woman.”
“I’m just glad it worked.”
He tugged her closer, resting his lips on hers once more, a tender exploration of her mouth. She melted against him, breathing in the clean scent of his skin. Once, she’d looked at his lips and wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him and now she knew. It was heavenly and she never wanted to stop.
Samuel slid his hands over her ribs and down to her hips, swirling circles and heating her flesh.
“Will you bar the door, love?” he whispered. “I don’t want any interruptions, and this is not going to be quick. I want to savor every inch of you.”
Catriona shivered. “Aye.”
She started to slide off the bed, her feet touching the floor, but he leaned up on his elbow, and captured the back of her neck, pulling her in for another heated kiss. She straightened her legs to keep her knees from buckling as she grew dizzy with excitement and desire.
With one last nibble of her lips he let her go, and she practically ran to bar the door, but when she turned around and saw him lying there, lids hooded, eyes hazy with need, and a smile on his lips that made her quiver, she stilled. It was shocking how much she trusted him, loved him and how much she realized he wanted her, loved her.
