Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1)
Page 11
Alexander found himself not only doubting she had won his stallion's favor, but his as well. He bowed to her. "By your leave, lass." He reached out and wrapped his hands around her small waist. How easy it was to lift her to her saddle. For the briefest of moments, his hands lingered. Then he stepped back. 'Twas strange how empty his fingers felt without her. He mounted Tursachan, led the way out of the stable and called for the drawbridge to be lowered.
**
She couldn't remember a more pleasant ride.
Approaching the lands on the far side of the castle, Alexander pointed out a small burn that ran bubbling across the path ahead of them. "Lass, if you wish, we'll stop here to water our horses and let them graze a bit." Smiling, he added, "You probably would like to stretch your legs from the uncomfortable position of riding with a saddle." He dismounted and walked over to her, his arms outstretched.
Katherine leaned toward him as before, but her foot became tangled in her skirts and threw her off balance. She started to fall. He grabbed her but was also thrown off balance, and together, they began to tumble to the ground. With obvious skill born of years of battle training, he quickly twisted his body as he fell, so his weight was thrown beneath her. He took the brunt of the impact as they landed on the grass.
The force of hitting the ground, even softened by the shield of his body, knocked the air from her lungs. Stunned, Katherine lay across him for a few moments until she caught her breath. She gazed into the moss colored depths of his eyes. So close to him, she could see tiny amber specks shining among the green.
He returned her look with an intense one of his own as his arms reached out and wrapped around her. His touch sent a shiver coursing through her entire body. He caressed her shoulders, then ran his fingers through her hair and trailed them down her temple to her trembling lips.
Slowly, he traced the shape of her mouth with the warm pad of his thumb. He curled his fingers under her chin, lifting it close to his own. The gentle touch of his work-roughened flesh conveyed a sensuous need and brought to life the sleeping passion deep within her.
Alexander whispered her name. His breath caressed her face like a warm breeze. Slowly, he took possession of her lips. The tip of his tongue pressed against her mouth, begging entry like a starving man before the door of a great kitchen.
A dizzy sensation engulfed her. She opened her lips for him. The gentle kiss deepened. Wet. Hot. Moving. When he slipped his tongue inside the recesses of her mouth, she thrust her fingers into his thick hair and clung to him like a weary swimmer to a lifeline. His tongue touched hers and heat boiled in her veins. Eagerly, she leaned deeper into his embrace as he gently cupped her breasts and his thumbs massaged her nipples through her clothing.
From a distance, she heard a woman's sigh murmuring encouragement. Sweet Heaven. The voice was her own. Shocked by her body's wanton response, she pulled her trembling lips from his. She felt the heat from her veins spread across her face and was shamed by her actions.
"Oh, Alexander, I beg your pardon for my clumsiness. I fear you won't think me a fit horsewoman now." She bit at her bottom lip. "Perhaps I shouldn't have ridden with you this morn. For surely, the saddle I used to please my mother proves me to be no lady at all."
Pushing against the tight, corded muscles of his chest, she slid off him and stood up on wobbly legs. Glancing down, she brushed clinging bits of dirt and grass from her skirts. Thank heaven it gave her somewhere else to look. Anywhere but him. She dared not gaze into his eyes again. If she did, she'd be lost.
Alexander smiled, quickly rolled over and stood, in one fluid movement. "Ah, Katherine, don't fear I shall think less of you. 'Twas no fault of yours. Your skirts simply tangled in the saddle. And, lass, I do insist you continue to ride with me, and with the use of a saddle, to keep you in your mother's good graces." His dark eyebrows arched. "And should your riding with a sidesaddle force me to shield your softness from harm with my own body, then 'tis as it must be. Even if I must do so every time we ride together, I am willing to make the sacrifice."
The dazzle of his smile was like summer lightning. It set her pulses racing again. As he lifted her to her horse, she felt his thumbs caress her waist before he released her.
Taking her hand, he bent his head in a chivalrous bow over her fingers. His warm sensuous lips touched her. He trailed sweet kisses over her skin; the back of her hand, her palm, her wrist. He smiled up at her, and with a gentle squeeze, released her hand.
Immediately, the morning breeze chilled her skin where moments before she'd known only the pleasing warmth of his lips. She swallowed with difficulty. Somehow she found her voice. "Per… perhaps we should return now. I'm sure Maman will have work for me to do to prepare for the wedding."
His impish eyebrows drew up even further. "Are you sure you truly wish to return now? 'Tis much more I'd like to show you."
The heat that surged through her promised to set her aflame. Sweet Mary, help her. Trembling, her hand rose to her heart to muffle its thunderous pounding. She saw his eyes follow the revealing gesture, and forced her quivering fingers back down to rest on the pommel. They clutched it tightly instead. She gave up trying to control them and darted an anxious glance at him. "I, uh, 'tis not that I wish to leave. 'Tis just, uh, just…"
A broad smile settled on his lips and he gave her a single, lazy wink. "Ah lass, if you say you must go, we will. I don't wish to anger your mother. For, in truth, I hope to ride with you again on the morrow." He ran his index finger languidly across her hand before he walked over to Tursachan and mounted.
The leisurely ride back to During Castle was pure torture. The closer they got, the more Katherine's inner turmoil grew. Her heart called out to turn back, to answer this aching want he'd created. But her mind commanded her to continue forward to her destination and responsibilities. Sensible, lifeless responsibilities.
They arrived in the courtyard and he helped her dismount with no difficulties. "A man can't be so lucky twice in the same day, hmm?" he whispered. His eyes sparkled as if remembering their passionate encounter.
The heat of her blush warmed her from head to toe. She, too, thought of it with pleasure. How could she not? It had played over and over in her mind, like a favorite ballad, all the way back.
Gillian approached them from across the courtyard and curtsied. "Lady Katherine, yer mother wishes ye to join her in the solar. She bid me tell ye there is much yet to do on yer gown if 'tis to be ready fer yer weddin'."
Katherine nodded and turned back to Alexander. "I truly enjoyed our ride together. Thank you."
"I, too, found our ride most pleasurable, lass. Go with Gillian. I will see that your mare is well cared for."
Alexander watched the two women walking together toward the keep. Their outward appearances were as different as night and day, but their common friendship was obvious for all to see. The vision of them whispering together and the sound of Katherine's easy laughter tugged at his emotions.
He gazed after her. Was there more to his interest than simple lust? Perhaps his earlier plans might not be to his liking after all.
Chapter Eight
Gillian led Katherine to the solar where her mother and two MacGregor women sat clustered together near a sunny window, their heads bent, concentrating on their work. Fabric for a lovely wedding gown lay stretched across their laps as they sewed. Their needles glinted with sunlight as they dipped in and out of the layers of rich silk.
Katherine darted a guilty glance at the women as they labored. She should have been here as she had for the last two days, helping to sew and try on the gown as it was assembled. It would still take several hours of handwork to finish, even with her help. Had she not been out riding with Alexander, she would have been working on the gown already that morn.
Monique looked up as Katherine and Gillian entered the room. "Ah, cheri, there you are. Where have you been? I expected you here over an hour ago."
Katherine's face warmed uncomfortably under her mother's scruti
ny. "I'm sorry, Maman. I went riding with Alexander."
"Oh. Well, that is all right. Now, come sit by me and tell me all about it while you sew."
Katherine took the needle and thread her mother offered and sat beside her. She stretched a length of the pure white silk across her lap. Tell Maman? Dear Heaven. What could she say?
"'Twas a lovely morning. I rose early and rode Fraoch on the training field. Then Alexander saw me and asked if I would like to ride outside the castle with him. We rode out past the first hill, all the way to a lovely spot with a small burn."
Heat suffused her face, remembering what had transpired there. She hurried on, hoping her mother didn't notice. "The area was quite lovely. Oh, I said that, didn't I? Did you know Alexander's horse is named Tursachan, after the standing stones? Alexander says 'tis because he— Ow."
Katherine examined the tip of her finger where a small drop of blood formed from the needle's prick. She put her finger in her mouth and cleaned it with her tongue. The feel of her tongue rubbing the fleshy pad reminded her of Alexander's passionate kiss. A tingle ran down the length of her arm and her face grew warm again.
Heaven help her. She'd never make it through this without her mother surmising her thoughts. What was she going to do? Looking up, she met her mother's gaze and quickly removed her finger, studying it intently.
Monique smiled. "Ah, cheri, be careful. Perhaps it would be better if you finish your tale later. Just sew right now."
Relieved, Katherine nodded and fastened her attention on the task before her. With luck, Maman wouldn't remember to ask again.
By mid afternoon, the last stitches were sewn. She tried on her wedding gown for the final time before she would wear it as a bride. Her mother and the two MacGregor women walked around her, pulling and tucking gently at the folds of the dress as they looked at it.
"Ooh, my lady, ye'll do the MacGregor proud."
"Aye, that ye will."
After a few more tugs to the dress, the two clanswomen nodded in satisfaction, gathered the sewing supplies and left the room.
With a bittersweet smile, Monique pinned a small silver brooch on the gown's bodice and kissed Katherine on the cheek. "Mon cheri, this was a gift to me from one of the nuns at the convent where I lived as a young girl. I hope it will bring happy memories of your da and I when you look at it. Always remember how much we love you."
Katherine felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest at the thought of leaving her parents. It still grieved her to know she must leave them behind and start a new life with someone she scarcely knew. Even after today, she still had doubts. Tears welled in her eyes and she hugged her mother tightly. "Oh, Maman, I don't know if I can—"
Monique silenced her with a gentle finger to her lips. "Shh. All will be well. Give your heart time to accept it." Then she turned Katherine to face a mirror.
Their gaze met in the reflection and her mother stepped back allowing Katherine to admire the beautiful gown.
Though a blue gown was traditional, there had been no time to find blue silk. So they had used the best fabric Monique had on hand. The pure white silk was trimmed with fine Irish lace that draped across the back and cascaded from her shoulders into a short train behind her. The fitted bodice with its low scooped neckline revealed the fullness of her breasts above an inset of lace where her mother's brooch lay.
The gown's tight fitting long sleeves ended in a point over the back of her hands. The waist was cut in a deep v, so it accentuated her slim figure before it flared outward over her hips, falling to the floor in graceful folds. A ribbon of MacGregor red and green tartan was sewn along the hem.
She would wear no veil. Instead, her hair would be left unbound as a symbol of her purity. She looked at the front of the gown again. During the wedding ceremony, Alexander would give her a sash of finest MacGregor tartan to drape there.
Monique smoothed the dress once more before she spoke. A hint of worry seemed to edge her tone. "Darling, remember more than anything, Angus and I want you to be happy." Then she smiled. "Now, you'd best give me the dress. I'll see that it doesn't become soiled before the ceremony."
With her mother's help, Katherine slipped out of the beautiful gown. As she changed back into the clothes she'd worn earlier, she noticed a small stain of grass and rubbed it tenderly with the palm of her hand. Even now, thinking of the morn filled her with pleasure. She stretched her arms above her head and pulled her shoulders back. The strain of sitting bent over her sewing for so long had left them tight and tense.
Turning to face the solar window, she watched the sunlight stream into the room. Perhaps she would venture outside for a few moments to get away from the frenzy of wedding preparations. And if she saw Alexander, 'twould be a welcome pleasure. "Maman, I need to breathe a bit of fresh air and stretch my legs. I'll return soon."
Everywhere she turned in the castle, activity abounded. Furniture was being moved through the corridors. Vacant rooms which hadn't been used for some time were being cleaned. Throughout the immense kitchen, large quantities of food were being prepared.
Nowhere within the keep could she find a quiet spot to temporarily call her own. The simple wish to remove herself from the constant noise and activity grew to a strong need. It would seem she wouldn't find peace anywhere in the castle. A servant passed her, carrying a bowl of roses and their sweet fragrance beckoned to her. Aye, she'd go to the garden. Katherine quickly made her way there. Fie, it, too, bustled with activity. Servants tramped back and forth through one of the smaller gates to the outer bailey. Twice while walking the garden path, she was forced to dart out of the way as clansmen carried long wooden planks for building additional trestle tables and benches.
Once more sidestepping out of the way of the encumbered clansmen, she hurried through the garden portal toward a small postern gate in the outer bailey wall. It opened to the outside of the castle, and freedom, if she could manage to escape unseen. No one was allowed to use it without permission of the laird and she was expected to have an escort with her at all times outside the castle. But the overpowering need for peaceful solitude sent her straight for the gate, just as a well-aimed arrow flies toward its target.
A barking dog ran by, chasing several squawking chickens. Womenfolk called out to each other discussing food preparation for the wedding feast. Clansmen hauled large piles of tree limbs to fill the two massive fireplaces in the great hall. Wood was cut and hammered to create additional tables for wedding guests. The din was overwhelming. By all the saints, she must find a place of quiet soon.
As she neared her destination, a noisy commotion a few yards away drew everyone's attention. Two burly men had been loading a large oak barrel of ale onto a wagon, when one of its axles broke, causing a wheel to come loose and fall away. The left side of the wagon crashed to the ground, tumbling the heavy barrel out onto the grass, barely missing one of the men who'd been loading it. From all across the bailey, people shouted and ran to help.
Seizing the advantage, Katherine opened the postern gate and quickly slipped through to the outside of the castle grounds. Knowing if someone had seen her escape, they would soon come after her; she scampered away as quickly as she could. She looked down the road toward the nearby village. There would be buzzing activity there as well. Shaking her head, she turned toward the green hills.
The last of the winter snow had melted many weeks earlier. It renewed the hills and valleys with lush green grass and lovely wildflowers. As she walked on, the quiet and beauty of the land beckoned to her. She gazed about, savoring the landscape.
Along a craggy ridge, a mass of purple heather vied with gorse and pink cowslip for space among the rocks. Pale yellow primroses bloomed along the pathway and in between time worn wagon ruts. They turned their delicate golden faces toward the afternoon sun. Overhead, a meadowlark flew to a nearby tree branch, carrying a bent twig in its beak.
Katherine smiled as she watched the songbird weave the twig into the beginnings of its nest. Even her
e, there was activity for the beginning of a new life. When the bird flew off, she resumed her walk. After a time she arrived at the base of a grassy knoll. The tall grass and flowers swaying undulantly in the breeze at the top of the hill were hypnotizing in their appeal.
For several moments, she simply stood and stared at the tranquil motion of colors waving back and forth against the blue sky. Dreamily, she climbed higher, stopping from time to time to pick a wildflower or two and gaze out over the countryside.
Where she stood, the land was covered with lush green and assorted colors, contrasting sharply with the large outcrops of brown rocks and gray cliffs in the distance. Remembering the story Alexander had told her of his parents and this land, she understood why Laird MacGregor loved the Highlands.
Reaching the summit of the knoll, she stood breathless, awed by the natural splendor that stretched out before her. From the top of the hill, she could see for miles in every direction. The sky shimmered with sunlight; its blue rivaled the periwinkles that dotted the grass at her feet. A few unblemished clouds hung in the air and drifted slowly on the breeze.
In the distance, she could see a large river. It worked its way through the land, carving a path around boulders and through great grassy fields. An eagle swooped down to the water. Effortlessly, it snatched up a wriggling fish. The bird's powerful wings carried it, soaring through the air, to its destination high in the dark hills.
A plaintive cry of a hawk called to its mate. Katherine turned to look in the direction of the sound. To her right, she saw a red tailed hawk gliding on the wind, only occasionally beating its wings. It caught and rode the air currents like a boat sailing smoothly across a stretch of gently flowing water.
Calmed by the peace and beauty of the countryside, she sat down on the grass. She picked wildflowers within her reach until she began to feel drowsy. Daydreaming, she sat there, warmed with the sun's rays. Eventually she lay back on the soft cushion of grass. Safely hidden among the plants and rocks of the hillside, she closed her eyes.