by Mary Wine
“It haunts me, Elspeth, do ye like knowing that? I can nae stop thinking upon it.”
“Which makes ye a good man, Hayden Monroe. But as I told ye, I do nae understand it myself.”
He turned onto his side and propped his head on his hand. He was studying her in the dark; she felt his keen gaze on her. Reaching out, she touched his face, slipping her hand along his jawline and smiling at the smooth skin there. No hint of whiskers, exactly as she had asked. That was something most women never received—what they asked for. The scent of the rosemary and heather drifted to her nose, reminding her that Hayden did much to please her. Which was why her heart was his. Maybe that was the way of love; only women truly felt it.
He suddenly grinned, her fingertips tracing the curving of his lips.
“Well then, madam, I declare war on ye.”
“What?”
He chuckled and smoothed his thumb across her lower lip. Tiny pulses of sensation traveled out from the touch.
“I said war. For I will have yer heart, Elspeth Leask, and make no mistake that I always claim what I set out to win. I refuse to love ye and not have that returned.”
“Ye have never spoken of love.” She swatted his hand away. “And how could ye claim to love me in so short a time?”
It wasn’t really a question, because she feared that he could see straight into her heart and know that she had already surrendered to that insanity known as love.
He scoffed at her and cupped the side of her face.
“We have faced more in that time than most do in an entire season. I almost lost ye twice, once to nature and the other to Pherson. Having the sweet gift of ye being returned to me brought more relief than I had ever thought possible. That is more than lust, Elspeth, more than passion. It is love and I can only hope it will deepen every day that we are blessed to be together.”
She let out a whimper and he growled, reaching for her cheek and snarling when he found it wet with tears. Elspeth captured his hand and kissed her own tear where it wet his skin.
“I weep with happiness and love, Hayden.”
He drew in a stiff breath. “With love ye say?”
“Aye, with love.”
His fingers smoothed over her cheek once more, wiping another tear away. She heard him draw in a sharp breath before lying down on his back and pulling her into his embrace.
“I suppose I shall have to get used to that trait of yers.”
Dawn brought the church bells ringing. Hayden grumbled but rose from the bed after shaking her. Elspeth rubbed her eyes and struggled to wake up enough to dress. She dare not miss morning service again. They both dressed and followed the other Leask people toward the church.
Elspeth sighed with relief when the service ended. The morning was bright and the women giggled when they came close to her. Once she was out in the yard she discovered the younger boys that should be training with their wooden swords all staring at the tower instead. She raised her gaze up and gasped when she saw the sheet hanging from a window. It was the one taken from the inn and the stain showed clearly in the morning light.
Hayden looked too smug, but she did not get the chance to reprimand him. Father Simon Peter peered at the sheet before turning his scrutiny on them both.
“Are you married?”
Hayden had the good grace to lose his smug grin before answering the priest. He might be laird of one of the most powerful clans in Scotland, but that only meant that the church expected him to set the proper Christian example for those wearing his colors.
“Nae, Father.”
“But they handfasted, I witnessed it myself,” Skene spoke up, a grin accompanying his words. “Laird Leask gave his blessing on a handfasting too.”
Father Simon Peter narrowed his eyes and looked for Dunmore. Elspeth watched her brother lose a bit of his color.
“Did you give yer blessing on a handfasting between yer sister and Laird Monroe?”
“He did.” Hayden spoke up without hesitation. “Under the circumstances, I felt it the best way to preserve my bride-to-be’s honor.”
Elspeth heard several of the women around her suck in their breath. Obviously whatever priest tended the flock on Monroe land, he was a more mild soul than Father Simon Peter.
The priest tucked his hand up into the wide sleeves of his robe.
“I disagree. You both should have taken the sacrament of marriage before yielding to lust.” He raised his voice so that everyone near might hear. “Lust is a sin that will lead all good Christian souls from the path of God.”
The priest pulled his right hand out and pointed at her brother. “Two hours in the stocks for agreeing to handfasting.” He moved his finger toward Hayden and never hesitated even in the face of the Monroe retainers all glaring at him. “You will join him or I will refuse to marry you.”
“Refuse?”
“The sacrament of marriage is only for those with true Christian souls. If you do not respect the priests who serve Mother Church, you shall not have the holy sacrament.”
Hayden bristled, his temper flickering brightly, but he nodded in obedience, gaining a soft grunt from the priest.
Father Simon Peter turned toward her. Elspeth lowered herself.
“Did you agree to this handfasting?”
“She did not.” Hayden and Dunmore spoke at the same time.
“I did.”
Hayden shot her a furious glare but she only lifted her chin. She might love the man but that did not mean she would be a meek spouse. Approval flickered in his eyes in spite of his temper.
“Two hours public display on a platform because you might be carrying a child and should not be bent over.”
A child. She hadn’t thought of that, but the idea brought a smile to her lips and even the stern look on Father Simon Peter’s face failed to make her smooth it away.
Two hours later …
Laird Hayden Monroe and Laird Dunmore Leask stood side by side, their necks and wrists surrounded by wood. When the stocks were in use, a crowd normally gathered, but today everyone seemed too busy to mock the sinners being punished by the church. Father Simon Peter was not pleased. He sent the younger boys who were already training to become priests up the ladders to ring the bells. The villagers who had tried to ignore their laird being shamed had no choice but to stop their work and crowd into the market square. Elspeth stood on the tiny platform that had been hastily built for her public shaming and watched her kin women reach out to tug on the ears of their children when the little ones began to point. The children looked confused, for they were always allowed to point and jeer at those in the stocks, but today their parents pinched them to stop it. They scratched their heads in confusion.
Father Simon Peter was becoming frustrated. His face turned red but the people stood firm in their silence, refusing to mock and berate them.
So the priest began lecturing. His voice filled the market, just as it did in the church every day. He preached against lust and springtime folly. The sun rose slowly, creeping toward the zenith of midday. Sweat was dripping down Elspeth’s sides but also glistened on Father Simon Peter’s face. He finally shut his mouth, never having reached any real point in his lesson. With a disgusted look, he sent the boys to release them.
Hayden arched his back and her brother snarled while he rotated his neck. Dunmore looked at her.
“Let’s get you two married.”
“Aye, and quickly, because I need an ale after that.”
Father Simon Peter snorted. “You are far too unrepentant, Laird Monroe.”
“I agree that I am far from perfect, Father, but I hope that will nae keep ye from helping me to make Elspeth my wife. At least my actions will be considered good in the eyes of the church even if my methods offend ye.”
“The most perfect thing a man or woman might do is pledge themselves to the service of the church. Failing that, they should marry and keep themselves from lust.”
The priest was facing the people watching him ag
ain, and as he moved off toward the church. Hayden curled his hand around Elspeth’s waist and drew her into his embrace.
“How about I marry ye and keep all my lust for you, lass?”
“Only if it comes with love.”
His eyes darkened. “Oh, it does, sweet Elspeth. I promise ye that I will remind ye of that every day for the rest of our lives.”
“I will look forward to each sunrise, my love.”
One of his eyebrows rose in roguish display.
“And every moonrise.”
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Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
