“Don’t fret,” she whispered. “She’ll not come in, just like that. I asked her to fetch us a bathtub of water.”
“A bathtub?” Everett’s heart thumped. He had never bathed in a bathtub before. He looked around, feeling somewhat distressed.
“Yes, silly,” Seonaid teased, then, seeing his distress was real, she frowned. “It’s alright, lad. It’s not dangerous. You’ll even like it.”
Everett looked at her sideways. “Only if you say so.”
She laughed and, when the bath came, she stepped in first. The steaming water swirled around her naked body and he felt his loins ache as she sat down in the tub.
“Come on,” she said, lifting a wet hand from the surface. “It’s not scary if we do it together.”
“Together?” Everett went pink. The idea of being in the warm water with Seonaid’s skin pressed to his, slipping on his body, was more exciting than anything he could dream.
“Aye, you daft man.”
Still laughing, he slid into the tub. It was a bit of a squeeze to sit down, but with his knees bent up, facing her, they fit perfectly. He could feel her warm, smooth leg bobbing next to his chest and reached out to touch it, sliding his fingers to her thigh.
She gasped and closed her eyes and he touched her between her thighs, amazed at how it felt to have her slippery, wet skin sliding on his fingers. She was making all sorts of unimaginable sounds. He felt his loins tense to unbearable arousal.
“Come on, lass,” he whispered gently. “Let’s get out?”
“Aye.” Voice tight, she nodded firmly. They collapsed onto the bed together.
Everett sat up and pushed her back onto the bed. Her body was glistening with water and he felt himself get impossibly aroused as he slid into her, unable to hold himself back. Her skin shone and slid under him as he lay on her, his hardness filling her as he withdrew and then pushed in again, unable to contain himself any longer.
She moaned and pushed her body into his. He could feel her breasts, flattening on his chest as he drove in and pulled out, and the added intensity made him shake and shudder, bringing him closer and closer to the edge of climax.
He held back, waiting while she got closer too. He could hear her starting to cry out, and then, as she gasped and gritted her teeth, crying out wildly, he let himself go and collapsed in bliss on top of her.
She lay beneath him and she must have slept, for after a few moments she stirred, eyes suddenly wide.
“The party!” she whispered. “We should get ready.”
Everett smiled down at her. “I suppose,” he said.
“We should!” she insisted. “It would be very rude, not to go!””
He chuckled. “Yes, I ken. But right now, I would give much tae stay here, with you.”
Seonaid made a face at him, and giggled. “And me, too. But we need to get ready. I need to find something to wear! Won’t this be fun?”
Everett swallowed, but most of his new, strange experiences of today had proven to be fun, so he nodded bravely.
“Aye,” he whispered. “Anything with you will be fun.”
Seonaid opened one eye and reached for him, smiling, and they kissed.
A BALL IN EDINBURGH
“Miss? Ought I to bind back your hair in a braid?”
Seonaid frowned at herself in the long glass mirror. She had never actually seen herself reflected so clearly before. It was an effect she couldn’t quite get used to. She kept on staring at her own reflection, in a state of confusion.
Is that really me?
The reflective surface showed her a girl with long brown hair that was slightly curling, a neat oval face, big red lips and two eyes the blue color of the sky over the hills. She kept on looking at the reflected image, not quite believing it was her. At her shoulder, the maid stood, an earnest-faced woman with long gray-brown hair. She was holding a hairbrush, frowning at Seonaid’s hair.
“Miss? Shall I make a braid?” she repeated.
“Um…yes. Thank you,” she added. “But…please leave a little loose, to frame my face?”
“Och, aye, Miss,” the woman chuckled. “I know you young ladies. Married or not, ye want tae leave a little of your hair down. I understand.”
Seonaid nodded, feeling color flush into her cheeks. It was seemly for married women to bind back their hair, or even to cover it entirely in a linen cloth. It was only unmarried girls who left their hair down, and such a thing would certainly be remarked on in a town like Edinburgh. She watched nervously as the woman bound back her hair, and, as she had asked her, fluffed loose curls around her cheeks.
“There. Now. All ready?”
“Yes,” Seonaid whispered. “All ready.”
She was wearing a gray dress. This one was not quite the same color as the one her father had given her, instead, it was a steel gray and had a fuller skirt and a bodice decorated with silver thread. It had a wide collar and sleeves that were cut to points so that they overlapped her fingers. The bodice was long and conformed to her waist and hips, then fell into a loose skirt. She swirled around, watching the way the silken fabric drifted around her body lightly. The bound hair looked elegant, but did nothing to detract from her well-modeled face.
“Thank you,” she whispered to the maid.
“Och, it’s nothing, lass.”
Seonaid suppressed a shiver of excitement as she headed out into the hallway. She couldn’t wait to see Everett. She looked around the dark hallway, searching for a sight of him. Where was he? He had gotten dressed in the room beside hers, and she wondered, with a little frown, if he was still busy in there.
“Miss McCarrick! Seonaid?” Everett’s voice caught in his throat as she stepped up the hallway. Seonaid turned sharply to face him, where he stood by a doorway, cheeks red.
“Oh! Everett! There you are.”
She felt her words stop, her eyes stretching as she took in his appearance. Standing before her, dressed in a dark green cloak that swathed his broad shoulders and dark green hose, his reddish hair brushed so it shone, was Everett. He looked more handsome than she had ever seen him before.
“Seonaid,” he breathed. His eyes were wide and he seemed speechless.
“Oh, Everett!” she giggled. “It’s just clothing.” She felt her cheeks go red.
“No,” he whispered. “No clothing could look so beautiful, without such beauty to make use of it.”
“Oh, Everett.” She flapped a hand at him, but her cheeks flushed and she felt a wonderful happiness lift her heart. “You look…incredible.”
He went pink. “Thanks,” he whispered. “I think.”
She giggled. “It means, I can’t believe how grand you look,” she said, slipping her arm through his lovingly. “Now, come on. Let’s go down. I’m sure the guests are already here.”
She went down the stairs on his arm, walking lightly across the cold flagstones of the fragrant courtyard on their way.
In the hall, Everett let out a slow breath and Seonaid fanned herself, feeling a little stifled. It was so hot! Lamps burned in sconces, the walls thickly covered with tapestries, a fire burning in the grate at the back of the hall. Even with the high ceiling and the row of windows to let in light by day, the place was unbearably warm.
“Refreshments?” Seonaid whispered. Her throat felt parched, and she realized with some surprise that, since the drink Murray had given them when they arrived, she had partaken of nothing all day!
Everett looked down at her, a little frown on his brow, but he nodded. “There are some?”
She giggled. “Yes! Over there.”
She led him across the hall to where a vast trestle table groaned under the weight of filled platters. There was all manner of food – pies in slices, jam pastries, little squares of something that caught her eye and made her smile in remembered fondness.
“Marchpane,” Seonaid said, pointing to it. She lifted a piece and bit it in half. Then she reached up to press it to his lips. “It’s sweet,” she warned.
“What?” she giggled. His face was so comical!
“It’s sweet!” he blustered. He swallowed again, licking his lips. “It’s…remarkable. What is it?”
She laughed. “It’s made with almonds and honey, I think. The almonds are ground up into fine pieces, then mixed with the honey and other things to form a paste.”
“Well, lass,” he chuckled, still looking surprised. “That’s another new thing you’ve showed me.”
She blushed. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.
“And so am I, lass,” he said. “So am I.”
She looked up at him, still feeling amazed by what she was seeing. With his broad shoulders spreading the swathing cloak around him, his fine, strong legs below, he looked like a man from one of the tales Mrs. Drover had told her as a little lass – stories full of enchanted castles and handsome princes.
“Shall we go outside?”
He nodded. “It’s close in here.”
They slipped through a concealed doorway and out into the courtyard. There, Seonaid turned to face him, whirling in the gown under a dark sky. Her feet were light on the stone underfoot, the shoes she’d borrowed the thin satin-soled ones used for dancing.
“It’s a remarkable night,” Everett whispered.
“It is.” She went to stand beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, his body behind hers. She leaned back a bit, feeling like this was the most beautiful moment she could imagine. She looked up at the stars, bright as firelight, so far away, winking in the dark like distant lamps.
“I’m so happy, lass.”
She turned around and, feeling a tear slide down her cheek, she reached a hand up and, placing it on his cheek, she kissed him.
“Me too, lad.”
He chuckled and she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body to his.
They stood like that in the courtyard for what seemed like an age, until Seonaid heard the pulse of drums and stringed instruments coming from the hallway.
“Shall we dance?”
Everett’s brown eyes sparked. “Will we dance?”
She giggled. “It’s a ball, lad! Of course, we’ll dance!”
Taking his hand, still giggling, she led him into the brightly lit hall.
Inside, the guests had taken their places – men on one side, women on the other. She slipped into line beside a girl in a white dress, facing Everett across the black-and-white tiles.
Seonaid looked around her in the bright haze of the lamps. The women around her were dressed in all manner of colored velvets – reds, ochers, white. She could smell the scent of spices in pomades and unguents and she saw here and there the wink of cloth-of-gold. Opposite her, in the line with the men, stood all manner of men, dressed in fine fabrics cut in the short, wide cloaks such as the one Everett wore.
The music started up, a fast piece, in a minor key. She joined hands with the women on either side of her, and they stepped forward, swaying a little in time with the music. She saw Everett looking around a little desperate, and realized with a bit of concern that these dances were really vastly different from anything he would have done in the countryside.
He looked from her to the men on either side of him, and, when they all stepped out, dancing towards the lasses, he joined in. She could see a small concentrated frown on his face and wanted to smile, though she bit the inside of her cheek, lest he think she mocked.
He’s doing so well, for somebody who has never danced at a city ball!
He reached her and his hands came forward to meet hers. Hand in hand, they danced two steps to the left, three right, then joined hands with the couple next to them and walked around in a circle. They repeated the motion the other way, and then the same steps repeated, in the opposite order.
That was easy! Look at how well he managed that.
Seonaid felt her heart soar as she saw Everett start to relax. He was soon dancing as if he’d grown up dancing at fine parties. She felt a glimmer of pride.
The music changed temperament, becoming a little slower. The sound of the stringed instrument blended with the pipe, a sweet harmony that tore at her heart strings. She squeezed Everett’s fingers, feeling a mix of sadness and sweetness flow through her. Sweetness, for all the joy. Sadness, that they could not stay like this, right here, forever more.
“Lad,” she whispered, as they stood on the edge of the hall, newly recovered after the exhaustion of the lively dance, “you were so good at that.”
He went bright pink. “Och, lass. You think?”
“I know so,” she insisted.
He caught her up against him, and his lips descended on hers. They kissed.
The music went on, another dance starting. Seonaid fanned herself, exhausted.
“I think I’ll sit out for this one,” she said. She lowered herself gratefully onto a padded stool. Everett leaned against the wall, nodding.
“Sounds good.”
They danced twice more that night, before the lamps burning out announced the evening’s end. As their host said his goodnight's and they tiptoed from the hall, Seonaid squeezed Everett’s hand.
“That was the best ball ever.”
He smiled, his eyes shining bright. “It was, and I will recall that forever more.”
Seonaid blushed. “Och, lad,” she whispered.
He drew her close and kissed her, his arms wrapping tight around her. She leaned against him, feeling as if her heart would actually burst if she felt one more emotion. She looked up into his eyes, the intensity of her love actually scaring her.
“Och, lad,” she whispered again.
“Och, lass.”
They kissed again and then tiptoed, soundlessly, up the long stairs and down the gallery, to their bedchamber.
Seonaid collapsed onto the bed, exhausted. She heard Everett close the door, and then come to the edge of the bed, sitting down and making it creak.
His hand slowly traveled up her back, and she shivered as she felt him start to tug at her buttons. She felt him pause and she giggled.
“There’s a lot more of them, than there are in my own dresses,” she whispered.
He chuckled and kissed her and she let him press her back onto the mattress and knew that she had never felt such joy before.
He managed to undress her, and she gasped in wonderment as he planted little kisses down her skin, starting at her shoulders and moving to her breasts. He sucked them and then moved lower, reaching her belly. She gasped. He looked up at her and she seemed to guess what he was thinking before he smiled. She nodded, breathless, and he bent lower, taking his lips to where, before, only his fingers had touched.
She was gasping and crying, her body consumed in sweetness, when he finally leaned back, a smile on his mouth, and started to undress. She gasped as he pushed into her, feeling that sweet fullness that she felt as if she’d been missing all her life, until now.
He pushed deeper and she reached for him, wrapping her arms about his waist. He was moving his hips with regular movements, each one driving him into her in a way that was making a sweet sensation start to flower and grow within.
She gasped and held onto him, his body straining and shivering as he pushed into her. She tightened her grip and felt him start to pant, even as her own climax approached strongly.
She was surprised as, seconds later, her body reached that place of impossible sweetness, the sensation almost painful it was so sweet. She clasped him to her as he pushed in and then collapsed, panting, into her arms.
He rolled off her and they lay in the dark. She could hear his breath and she felt him throw a blanket over them both. She closed her eyes, feeling his warmth pressed to her side, hearing the regular sound of his breathing and the crack of the fire, burned down to charcoal in the grate.
She wished that she could have this moment foreve
r – that they would never have cause to leave this place. It was so beautiful, lying here beside Everett, warm and contented, in stone walls that could shut out all discordant things. She knew she had never been so happy and she was sure that, now she was with Everett, there was plenty more such happiness to be had, as soon as they could overcome the difficulties that faced them both.
DANGER AND DARKNESS
Everett sat awkwardly at the table. The room was richly decorated, and the table was under a long window, the arched space filled with an intricate lattice-work to keep out the worst of the cold. The table itself was dark wood, small enough for two, and set with plates and cups in rare ceramic.
He heard steps coming down the hallway and shot to his feet, feeling jumpy.
“Everett?”
“Good morning.” He beamed at Seonaid, relief mixing with joy at seeing her again. She was wearing a green gown, wide-skirted, a cloak of matching green wrapped about her to keep out the cold. The color was one he’d never seen on her, and he stared, amazed at how the tone brought out the red in her hair and intensified her eyes. “You look remarkable.”
She grinned and flapped a hand. “Och, lad. You’re just sweet.”
“No, it’s the truth,” he protested, smiling, as she drew out a chair with smooth ease and sat down with relief.
“Breakfast. How lovely.”
He chuckled. “I don’t know, lass. I don’t ken how anything works in this place.” He looked around the room dubiously. A fire burned in a large hearth behind them, the ceiling balanced on fine arches. It was a room intended for socializing, clearly, the table and chairs flanked by a settee that faced the fire, and other furniture. He felt desperately uncomfortable in here, but Seonaid acted as if she lived here.
“Well, there’s something here for us, under this cloth,” she said, lifting a cover off a bowl that stood between them. “Oh. Oats!”
She looked happy and he drew in a breath, noticing the warm, wholesome smell of porridge oats. That explained the presence of a pitcher of fresh milk and the little dish at his right hand.
The Highlander’s Passion (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 3) Page 11
