by Willa Blair
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kyle led Jamie to a different chamber than the one Caitrin had occupied before their attempted escape and then took his leave. She waited, dressed and sitting in a chair by a sunny window, when Jamie arrived. She started to push herself to her feet, but Jamie rushed to her, knelt, and took her hand. “Dinna fash, lass. The healer doesna want ye moving about too much yet.”
“Is that what Kyle told ye? Nay, she’s just given me leave to do as I see fit.” The smile she gave him had nothing to do with the healer’s orders. “Ach, Jamie, I’m so glad to see ye.”
“Are ye? After what ye saw? What I nearly did?” The words slipped out before he could stop himself. He knew better than to begin their reunion there, with the horror of those memories, but it was too late. He’d said the thing the plagued him the most, now he’d seen Caitrin was getting well.
“I hoped ye would come to me sooner. I told ye I wished to help ye, but the healer wouldna let me go to ye. Did ye no’ believe me?”
“I…couldna. What I thought to do…”
“Was a moment’s impulse, borne of the awful revelations about yer sister, and about the many other MacGregor victims. Of seeing me. What he’d done to me. It wasna ye, Jamie, but that.”
Jamie sank onto his heels before her. She pulled him into her embrace, and he rested his head on her shoulder, drinking in her scent and the warmth of her arms around his neck. “I’ve missed ye, lass, as much in these few days as in all the years since ye left Lathan.”
“And I, ye.”
He lifted his head and looked into her luminous eyes. “I couldna come to ye. I feared that fury would overtake me again. Will overtake me again. I wouldna harm ye for anything in the world, but I dinna ken whether I will be able to control the beast in me now it has escaped.”
“It’s over, Jamie. Do ye no’ understand that? The man who drove ye to such rage is dead. Yer fury burned away while ye were saving me. Ye need no’ fear the like again.” Caitrin ran her fingers through his hair. “Ye are my own true love, Jamie Lathan. I canna fear ye. I can only love ye. As I have since the day I first set eyes on ye. All this…” she said, and waved her other hand to indicate the room they were in and the keep beyond, “was simply meant to bring us back together.”
Jamie gave a rueful laugh. “There were simpler ways to accomplish that, my love, without all the misery of the last few weeks.”
“Aye, but ye needed answers, as did I. As did my da, it seems. In the end, much good has come from much suffering.”
“Will ye still believe that when ye look on the scars ye will bear?”
“Will ye? I care more that they dinna turn ye away from me.”
“They never will. Ye are more important to me than they could ever be.”
“Then it is as if they are no’ there.” She waved a hand, wiggling her fingers as if that would make them disappear into the air. “I would still marry ye, if ye would have me,” she continued as though such a pronouncement was as ordinary as asking for another bite of bread. But the uncertainty in her eyes gave the lie to her calm demeanor.
Jamie’s heart soared. He’d come here expecting to have to convince her to give him another chance. To negotiate for his own future, or to leave her in peace if she demanded it. For her to bring up a future together first, to hear her say she still wished to be his wife, made him feel stronger, and more proud than he’d felt since they’d arrived at this accursed place.
“Have ye?” He choked on the words, desperate to make them real. “I’d have ye here and now if I didna fear hurting ye. Of course, I want ye to wife. I’ve never wanted any other. Only ye.”
“Then latch the door, my Jamie, and we will see what I can do.”
“Are ye certain?”
Caitrin smiled. “As certain as I have ever been.”
Jamie did as she bade, but stayed by the door, studying her as she stood—slowly, but smoothly, without a grimace or a hesitation in her movement to tell him she still suffered any pain. He moved to her then and took her in his arms. “Ye will tell me if ye are the least…”
“Aye, love. Now kiss me and dinna fash. Ye smell so good. I want to taste ye.”
He had not lost her. Her kiss remained the sweetest Jamie had ever known. She’d waited for him to return to her, finally sending Kyle as her emissary to fetch the Lathan emissary. How Toran would appreciate the irony of that.
But now was not the time to think of Toran, or of anything else but Caitrin’s lips, her eyes, her skin. He loosened the top of her dress, pleased to find only a thin dressing covering the wounds there.
“Healing well,” she murmured against his ear then ran her tongue around it and down the side of his neck. Jamie sucked in a breath and then moaned as she began removing his clothes.
“Are ye truly certain?” he whispered into her mouth.
In answer, she stepped back and removed the rest of her clothing. Standing before him, bare except for the bandage on her breast and around her thigh, she promised, “I’ll manage.” Then she helped him strip.
He picked her up and laid her gently on the bed, before stretching out beside her, then he continued his gentle exploration of her curves. He didn’t care that his eyes dampened. His heart swelled with gratitude and joy. He had not lost her. She was his. The heat of her skin teased his senses and fired his blood. The smile that lit her face was for him, and him alone. He ran his fingers through her hair and saw an answering wetness gleam in her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he breathed, “and so happy at the same time.”
“Ye have nay need to be sorry, my love.” She brushed warm fingertips down his neck, then tugged on his shoulder. “Come, let me soothe ye and bring ye bliss.”
She encouraged him by opening her legs, but he had other plans and pulled her atop him. “This way, ye can do what pleases ye,” he told her.
Her smile was part grateful, part feral as her gaze raked his chest. She positioned herself over him and then slowly took him into her body.
Jamie watched carefully for any sign of discomfort, but her long, low moan was one of pleasure.
“At last,” she breathed and seemed only delighted by what she felt as she tightened around him.
Her possession stole his breath. He filled his hands with her breasts, stroking her skin where the bandage did not cover it. “My beautiful Caitrin,” he murmured. “I love every part of ye.” Then he slid his hands down her ribs to her hips and helped her lift and lower herself until they found a rhythm that brought them both satisfaction. Caitrin’s cries broke Jamie’s control as rapture took her, sending him to the bliss she’d promised.
When they came back to themselves, Caitrin stretched out on his chest, cupped his face with one hand and grinned. “I told ye I could do it.”
He smiled and smoothed her hair away from her face. “I’ll never doubt ye again.”
“The healer said I’m free to travel.”
“Ye rode quite well today.” His smile widened into a mischievous grin.
She smacked his shoulder and giggled. “Aye, and I’ll get better at it the more I get to…ride.” Her lips quirked, then her expression turned quizzical. “But where shall we go?”
“I want to take ye back to Lathan, but if ye want to see yer da and arrange things at Fletcher first, I willna object.”
She nodded. “Shall we marry there or at Lathan?”
“I’m ready now,” he told her, and then wrapped his arms around her, telling her without words that he would never let her go, “but that will be yer choice.”
“Perhaps both.”
Jamie grinned. “I like the sound of that.” In truth, he did. He’d marry her over and over again, every day, if it would keep her by his side.
“Then it’s settled.”
“And it could no’ be better. But before we leave here, I must speak with the new MacGregor. I understand the clan elected him just last night.”
****
The speed at which the MacGregor keep changed amazed J
amie. While he recovered his wits and Caitrin healed, the clan had been doing the same. They stood in the Laird’s solar, yet Jamie had no concerns Caitrin would be haunted by memories of Alasdair’s assaults here. Except for the position of the windows, the chamber looked completely different. The furniture had been removed and replaced, the doubled tapestries were gone, and draperies in a rich, deep red now covered the window wall. A large Persian carpet graced the floor, and a fire danced merrily in the hearth.
But the biggest change, by far, was the person this chamber now belonged to. The new MacGregor, a young man just barely in his majority, came out from behind his desk as they entered hand in hand, and took their free hands in his. He spoke with authority beyond his years. “Ye have done this clan a great service, whether ye realize it or no’.”
Jamie couldn’t fathom why the clan had tolerated Alasdair for so long when it had this young man waiting to be laird. “I’m pleased to hear ye say that, but I dinna ken exactly what ye mean.”
Caitrin stood at his side, ready to squeeze his fingers if she detected any falsehood.
Her father may not have trusted her talent, but given the events leading up to this day, Jamie was prepared to accept any advantage he could find in this meeting. Too much bad blood had spilled already, and it would be too easy for things to get out of hand, resulting in more misery and more deaths. But the new MacGregor’s initial words made him seem indisposed to stir up more trouble.
“My cousin Alasdair’s demise, of course.”
Jamie raised an eyebrow, unsure of how he was meant to respond to that. But the new MacGregor didn’t give him time to compose something suitably noncommittal.
“I am sorry, both personally and as the MacGregor,” he said, flashing a quick smile before resuming his appropriately serious countenance, “for the difficulty ye encountered here. For milady Fletcher’s injuries. And for the crimes committed in the past which harmed many outside of our clan. What ye may no’ be aware of is Alasdair’s uncle, his sire and his older sons—all lost at Flodden, thank God—they and Alasdair exercised…proclivities upon their own people, most of whom were too afraid to speak out. Those who did…disappeared. I am only now hearing stories, like yers, that grieve me greatly. They had much to answer for, but they are long out of our reach. And ye have saved us more years of horror, and the potential for division in the clan, in bringing the son to justice.” He paused and shrugged, suddenly looking even younger until he spoke. “We are better off, now the bastard is dead.”
Jamie nodded to acknowledge the unfortunate truth of that. The lad showed unexpected wisdom for one so young to such weighty responsibility.
“I…we owe ye both a debt, and to Fletcher,” he said with a nod to Caitrin, “and to Lathan. We will be years in making recompense. But there is one thing I can do today to begin to repay ye, if ye will allow it.”
“Aye?”
Jamie felt Caitrin stiffen beside him, but he had a good feeling about this lad and reserved judgment until he heard all the new laird had to say.
“I understand ye never favored this betrothal to the MacGregor, Lady Fletcher. Fortunately, it is no longer an issue, since I already have a young wife of my own, one I am happy to keep.” He gave them a bashful grin then adopted a serious expression again. “I also understand ye both wish to wed…one another, that is. Am I correct?”
“Ye are,” Jamie answered. Caitrin’s silence suggested she wasn’t sure what the young MacGregor had in mind.
“There is a priest standing by. I hereby waive the banns. If ye wish, ye can be married now. Today. MacGregor will, of course, provide a dowry suitable to the occasion. I regret yer father is no’ at hand, but we can proceed without him. I have a letter from the former dowager Lady MacGregor, now Lady Fletcher, I believe, that gives their blessing to the union between ye two.”
Jamie glanced at Caitrin. She appeared stunned, but her hand remained relaxed within his. This MacGregor spoke truth. “Caitrin? What do ye say?” Suddenly Jamie’s confidence deserted him. Was she stunned by the good news, or thinking furiously of a way to bow out of it? “I ken we discussed it, but after all we’ve been through, have ye changed yer mind? Will ye marry me? Today?”
“I am ready,” she replied, her voice firm and sure.
Jamie went weak in the knees.
She smiled at the new MacGregor as she never had done for his predecessor then grinned at Jamie. “I…we accept yer kind offer and thank ye. Today is a perfect day to be married.”
“We can be ready in moments.”
At that, Jamie relaxed and smiled for the first time in weeks.
****
Caitrin didn’t mind the irony. In the end, she would marry at MacGregor, but the difference mattered. She would marry the man she loved. The man she had wanted since she had arrived at Lathan a lonely, young lass and met a young lad who treated her nicely.
Da would have to be satisfied with a stronger alliance with Lathan. She suspected he’d already accepted that advantage for Fletcher—though they’d nearly lost it due to his insistence on sacrificing her to Alasdair MacGregor. But nay, she would not think about that today, of all days. Her father had seen the error of his ways and, in the end, had done what was needed to ensure her safety and happiness. And Madeleine had cleared away any lingering…difficulties…with her letter to her son’s successor.
Though with a friendly MacGregor in charge and speaking of debts owed to Fletcher, her father would be pleased to learn relations there would improve, as well.
The priest was indeed standing by. At the MacGregor’s summons, he entered from the next room and blessed the chamber, the new laird, and both of them. He seemed quite cheerful, and Caitrin suspected the change in leadership made his job more to his liking.
“Would ye like some time to prepare?” Jamie asked her. “To dress or…”
“We could move to the great hall if ye would prefer,” the MacGregor added. “Or the kirk. A wedding would be a happy occasion for the clan to witness.”
Caitrin’s heart sank. She wanted to keep this small and private.
“We are pleased to remain here,” Jamie interjected, correctly reading her silence as reluctance. “If ye dinna mind.”
“I am pleased to remain here as well, but we can give ye time to prepare…”
“Nay, I said I am ready, and I am,” Caitrin interjected, as exultation suddenly made her tremble with eagerness. This was going to happen. After everything, she and Jamie would be married—today! The future she’d hoped for would become real in minutes. Jamie beamed at her, making her heart race. “Now, if ye please.”
Even the priest grinned at that.
The MacGregor sent a lad for his wife, saying, “Ye will want another woman here as witness, will ye no’?”
“Aye. Thank ye, that would be most welcome,” Caitrin agreed. “And Kyle?” she asked Jamie. At his nod, the new laird sent another lad to find him. Jamie needed a friend and clansman to stand with him.
Caitrin eagerly awaited the new lady MacGregor’s arrival, wondering if she’d met her the day Madeleine had introduced her to the ladies in her solar. She’d had little female company in this keep, save for the old healer, and Nan and Madeleine, who were now safely ensconced at Fletcher with her da. She spared a moment to wonder if a ghillie had been sent to Fletcher to apprise them of how the situation had changed here. They must know something, for Madeleine to send a letter. Unless she had left it behind to explain to her son where she’d gone and to convince him not to pursue her—or Caitrin.
No matter, those questions would wait. Jamie stood at her side, and they had something more happily urgent to take care of.
The new lady MacGregor arrived in moments, looking excited and a bit nervous. Her husband must have prepared her for this eventuality, given how quickly she joined them. Caitrin did not recognize her, but liked her on sight. She appeared to be of an age with her husband, slim, but in the early stage of breeding.
“How lovely to meet ye,”
she greeted them and took Caitrin’s hand. “And how lovely that my husband’s first act as laird is a wedding. I think this bodes well for the years he will lead this clan. Do ye agree?”
“Of course,” Caitrin answered with a smile. “I’m grateful. Thank ye for helping us.”
“It is my very great pleasure. Our very great pleasure,” she added with a smile at her husband, who returned hers with a besotted one of his own.
Caitrin’s heart swelled to see the love between them. Their clan’s future would be much happier with these two in charge.
“Ahem.” The priest’s throat-clearing brought them back to their purpose as Kyle came in with a length of Lathan plaid and stood behind Jamie.
The priest called him forward to perform the handfasting, which brought tears to Caitrin’s eyes, and a glimmer, which made her heart swell, to Jamie’s. The connection between them was strong, but to see the symbol of clan Lathan binding them together only made it stronger. The priest kept the kirk ceremony mercifully brief. Before she knew it, Caitrin became a married woman, with the husband of her dreams standing by her side.
Jamie kissed her simply, but with great feeling brimming in his eyes.
Aye, he wanted this as much as she. She did not need her talent to discern that.
They signed the marriage declaration and the MacGregor record-book. Jamie hesitated a moment, but then signed with a great flourish. Men and their territory-marking, Caitrin thought with a grin she shared with her new husband as he handed her the ceremonial quill. Then it was her turn, and she took great pleasure in signing Caitrin Olivia Fletcher Lathan, wife of Jamie Lathan. Her fondest dream come true.
Epilogue
Jamie and Toran sat in front of the MacKyrie hearth, whisky in hand against the early autumn chill. Donal had run upstairs to be with Ellie as the first lusty cry of their son had echoed down the stairs into the great hall.
“It seems we’ve been here before,” Jamie remarked with a grin at Toran, who scowled in his direction. “Two years past, Aileana came to ye. Now ye have fifteen-month-old triplets and four-month-old twins. And Donal just got his son and heir to MacKyrie.”
