A Wee Highland Predicament

by Ceci Giltenan

  “Thank ye, Father,” said Lucas. “We are very grateful for everything.”

  The old priest beamed. “’Twas my pleasure.”

  “Just out of curiosity,” said Ailsa, “do a lot of newly married couples spend the night here?”

  Father Giles chuckled.

  Ailsa’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, good heavens, that sounded terrible. I just meant…”

  “I know what ye meant, my child. And, while hurried weddings are rare, when they occur, it isn’t uncommon for the couple to shelter here for the night. Now, it’s almost time for compline so I’ll wish ye both a goodnight.” Father Giles gave them a small nod and walked back towards the main buildings of the abbey.

  Lucas immediately picked Ailsa up. He pushed the cottage door open with his hip and carried her inside, standing her on the floor in front of him.

  Ailsa stood on her tiptoes, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. When she pulled away, she felt a warm blush rise in her cheeks. “I…uh…well, I wanted to…uh…”

  “Kiss me? Aye, sweetling, that was obvious and I quite enjoyed it.”

  If anything, her blush deepened. “I’m glad,” she frowned. She didn’t know what to do or say now.

  “Is something amiss?”

  She shook her head slightly. “It’s just…uh…ye see, I…uh…well, I’ve only just realized…” How was she going to say this? She arrived at “I don’t exactly know how to be married.”

  A slow smile spread across his face. “Are ye saying ye don’t know how a man and woman…couple?”

  “Aye. I mean, I have a general idea. I suppose Gillian might have intended to tell me more about it before our wedding…”

  “I expect so.”

  “But since she didn’t…well, I don’t really know what to do.”

  “Then, my sweet bride, it’s a good thing I have a bit of experience at it.”

  Her frown deepened. “Ye do?”

  “Aye, does that shock ye?”

  She nodded. “A little.”

  He grinned. “Well, I’d say it’s a rare bit of luck that I do, seeing as how ye don’t. We might have been fumbling all night if neither one of us had a clue.”

  “I suppose so,” she said.

  “Instead, we can do this.” He leaned down and kissed her again. “And this.”

  He planted small kisses along her jaw to the back of her ear. His warm lips felt heavenly. She tilted her head back and he kissed down the column of her throat. “Mmmm.”

  “Ye like my kisses?”

  “Aye, I do. But I can’t think straight when ye kiss me like that.”

  “Well, lass, leave the thinking to me for now. You just feel.”

  Her “Aye” sounded breathless and needy.

  Before she realized what was happening, her plaid lay on the ground…with her léine…and her shift.

  And exactly how had she ended up on the bed?

  His lips and his hands caressed her everywhere. Everywhere. Part of her befuddled brain suggested that this might be wicked and perhaps she should stop him. But a much bigger part of her brain had joined her body as a writhing mass of pure sensation and she just gave in to it.

  A gnawing ache built at her core. The more it built, the more desperate she became.

  “Lucas…I…”

  “Wheesht, Ailsa, let it go.”

  His voice in her ear caused something in her to shatter into a million pieces of bright light. She could almost see it sparkle around her. Before her head cleared, he laid down beside her—naked. When had that happened?

  Ye’d think she’d have noticed that.

  But how could she notice anything with him touching her like that? And now he was doing it again, causing the same desperate, wonderful tension to build in her core. Just as it had before it reached the point where she had but one desire—to quench this burning need. She became aware of the fact that he knelt between her legs, his hands still working their magic.

  As she reached the pinnacle and began to shatter again, he moved his hand to her hips, lifted them and entered her. The pain was sharp, but somehow it melded with her pleasure becoming so much more. His movements in her only caused the sensations to build once again—stronger and somehow deeper.

  “Let it go, Ailsa,” he whispered again.

  And she soared, her body awash in pleasure.

  He groaned and she felt a rush of heat at her core.

  After a few moments, he withdrew from her and laid next to her. He stroked her body gently, effectively drawing her back from whatever bit of heaven she had just discovered.

  She blinked up at him. In awe.

  He flashed a devilish grin. “I’d ask if ye were all right, but by the expression on yer face and yer cries of pleasure, I’m willing to guess ye are.”

  She chuckled. “Aye. Is that what it’s always like?”

  “It shouldn’t hurt like that again.”

  “But the rest of it? The bright lights and the…the…whatever that was?”

  “Aye, when a man takes time. And you looked so incredibly beautiful as ye reached that, whatever that was,” he winked at her, “I’ll be sure to take my time.”

  She gave him a cheeky smile. “Can we do it again?”

  He laughed. “I think we both need a bit of rest. But after that, aye, we can do it again.” He pulled her close, curving his body around hers. He kissed her head. “I love ye, Ailsa Grant.”

  “Mmmmm,” she snuggled into him. “I like that name. And I love ye too.”

  She must have fallen asleep instantly but woke before dawn to find him kissing and stroking her again. They made love again languidly. He brought her to that dizzying peak and held her there until she thought she would lose her mind with need. And, if anything, the release, when it came, was stronger than before.

  As she basked in the warm fuzziness that surrounded her once more, he held her close and she drifted into sleep again.

  ~ * ~

  Lucas woke the next morning as sunlight poured through the windows. He raised up on his elbow and watched her sleep. He’d done that once before, on the night she’d tried to pick blackberries. He had been worried that night and stayed awake, watching, to make certain she was safe.

  That night she wore his overlarge clothes. This morning she was gloriously naked, her brown hair a riot of sleep tousled curls. She might have been a wood nymph, or a fairy. But she wasn’t. She was his own sweet Ailsa. She was his wife, and that was really the only thing that mattered to him.

  She woke to find him still looking at her. A languorous smile spread across her lips. “Good morning, husband.”

  He kissed her. “Good morning, my lovely wife.”

  She reached up and caressed his cheek. “Can we…uh…do that again?”

  He laughed. “I’d love to. But I fear ye might be a bit sore today.”

  She stretched rolling her hips as she had the night before, seeking her release. “I am a bit sore. But it isn’t…unpleasant.”

  He grinned. His sweet little wife couldn’t be farther from the cold, stiffly proper noblewoman he hadn’t wanted to marry. She was warm and responsive…and honest. He reckoned a lifetime teaching her all the delightful things men and women do would be anything but boring. “While I’m thrilled to hear that the soreness ye feel isn’t unpleasant, with such a long ride ahead of us today, let’s make certain it stays that way.”

  She heaved a sigh. “All right. But I was just thinking. Maybe we don’t have to go the whole way today.”

  “Not quite ready to face yer family, sweetling?”

  “Honestly, I don’t care. They never stay mad long. But, I thought another night in yer arms before we face them might be nice.”

  “I think that’s an excellent idea, sweetling.”

  After they had cleaned up, eaten part of the food Father Giles had left them the night before, and packed up the rest for the trip back to Brathanead, they were ready to leave.

  Father Giles must have been watching for t
hem, for they were no sooner to the stable, than he arrived to bid them farewell.

  He chatted with them briefly while Lucas saddled Captain. Just before they were ready to leave, Ailsa went quiet. Her furrowed brow a sure sign that something was on her mind.

  Father Giles must have noticed it too because he asked, “Ailsa, what has ye looking so pensive?”

  “I was just wondering about something.”

  “What is it, child?”

  “Well, Father, perhaps this is impertinent of me to ask, but why did ye wear these rings around yer neck for so long?”

  The old priest smiled warmly. “Impertinent or not, I’ll tell ye the story. Many years ago, when I was a young man, I was betrothed to a lass I had adored for ages. We were to be married. But less than a sennight before our wedding day, she had an accident. She was going down a set of stairs and something happened that caused her to trip. She lost her balance and, fell forward, striking her head on the wall before tumbling down the stairs. Her neck was broken. She died instantly. Those are the rings that I had bought for our wedding. I slipped them on the cord the day I bought them, so I wouldn’t risk misplacing them. I never quite got over that loss. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to love another woman, so I poured all of my love into God’s Holy Church.”

  “Oh my,” said Ailsa, resting a hand on his arm. “Why did ye give them to us?”

  The old priest smiled again, his eyes bright. “When ye arrived and even after we’d talked, I had no intention of marrying ye. I saw no pressing need. Ye were betrothed and would be married eventually, even if not quite as soon as ye wanted to be. Patience is a valuable lesson. But when I asked Lucas what he’d have me tell yer lairds, he spoke of how love is all too rare in our world. He said, ‘when ye find it, ye don’t want to waste a moment’ and that ‘none of us are promised tomorrow’. I remembered my sweet bride. We weren’t even able to start our lifetime together. And I realized all ye were asking for was perhaps only moments or days…together. If ye’re very lucky, those moments will stretch into many, many years, but I have no way of knowing. So I decided to give ye the lifetime that I lost on that terrible day. Use it well. And I pray that the Lord sees fit to give ye an eternity together.”

  Epilogue

  Brathanead Castle

  April 26, 1368

  As the minstrels came to the end of the song and the dance ended, Lucas lifted Ailsa into his arms and spun her around. She threw her head back and laughed with the abandon he loved. Initially, neither he nor Ailsa had been overly excited about the huge celebration that both families had insisted on throwing in honor of their wedding and the new alliance between the MacLennans and Grants. But after the two of them had taken matters into their own hands six months ago and married at the abbey, there was no way to avoid it. And now he was glad they hadn’t.

  “I love ye, Ailsa Grant.”

  As he lowered her feet to the floor, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “I love ye too, Lucas. And I love dancing with ye.”

  “I do too, but ye need to take a wee break.”

  “Nonsense, I’m fine.”

  He lowered his lips to her ears. “And I’d like ye to save a bit of that exuberance for when we’re alone.”

  She laughed softly and whispered back, “Ye needn’t worry about that. I’m sure I’ll be able to pluck up enough energy when the time comes.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, leading her away from the dancing anyway. He thought back now to what he had told William about preferring a crofter’s daughter or maidservant to a noblewoman and smiled. Ailsa had clearly not been taught that all the delightful things men and women did were sinful. His brother had also been right about joy that could be found teaching all those things to the right women. And Ailsa was, without a doubt, the right woman. She was passionate and responsive. She made love with an abandon he’d never experienced before, holding nothing back. The last six months had been pure heaven.

  He took two tankards of ale from a passing servant and, gripping both in one hand, he put the other in the small of Ailsa’s back, guiding her to the laird’s table where his brothers and their wives were resting from the dancing too. He put the tankards on the table and flopped into a chair, pulling Ailsa onto his lap and kissing her again.

  William frowned at him. “Lucas, a little decorum.”

  Nina slapped playfully at his arm. “Oh, William, give it a rest. This is the celebration of their wedding after all.”

  “Aye, but they’ve been married for six months now.”

  “Brother, ye’re the one who told me—”

  William put up a hand to cut him off. “Enough. Ye’ve thrown what I told ye in my face often enough now.”

  Robert chuckled. “I don’t recall ye ever having any sort of chat like that with me.”

  “By God’s holy bones, Robert, I didn’t need to. Ye aren’t half as hard-headed as Lucas.”

  “Aye, he is,” said Emily. “I haven’t been able to get him to dance with me at all this evening.”

  A stern look crossed his countenance. “Nay, and ye won’t.” He rested a hand on her very pregnant belly. “That bairn is due any day now.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “It could bring on labor.”

  “So what? I understand Katherine MacIan is a skilled healer and midwife and so is Tira MacBain. There’s more than enough help here, should that happen.”

  “Nevertheless, ye aren’t dancing.”

  Emily huffed in frustration.

  Fingal and Gillian joined them, flushed from dancing.

  Gillian frowned at her. “Ailsa, really, ye needn’t sit on Lucas’s lap. A little decorum.”

  Ailsa rolled her eyes and both Nina and Emily laughed.

  “I said the same thing,” grumbled William.

  Lucas stood, lifting Ailsa in his arms as he did, causing her to giggle. “Well, if decorum is called for, I believe it’s time for me to slip away with my bride.”

  Before anyone could argue, he was away from the table and heading to the tower stairs. The crowd parted for them, and ribald comments followed in their wake.

  When they reached the stairs, Lucas turned and addressed the crowd. “Thank ye all for joining with us in celebrating our wedding. And thanks too for all the helpful suggestions.”

  Laughter erupted from the crowd.

  When they had quieted again, Lucas said, “Given yer enthusiasm, even though Ailsa and I have been married for six months now, I’m certain you’ll forgive me if I spirit my bride away now.”

  He entered the stairwell and practically ran up them with his beloved in his arms. He didn’t put her down until they had reached the seclusion of their chamber and then he took his time kissing her and removing her clothes.

  Duff looked up from his bed on the hearth momentarily. Unimpressed, he repositioned and went back to sleep.

  When he pulled away, Ailsa grinned at him, loosening his belt as she said, “It’s a good thing ye didn’t kiss me like that downstairs. William might have had an apoplexy.”

  Lucas chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.”

  Continuing to undress him, she asked, “Did ye enjoy the celebration?”

  He gave her a gentle kiss. “Aye, pet, I did.”

  “I did too.” She took his hands and let him to the bed.

  “And all things considered, it was a small price to pay to soothe the minor upset that occurred when we returned from the abbey.”

  She arched a brow at him. “Minor upset? By all the saints, I was convinced Fingal and Quinn were going to kill ye when we returned from the abbey.”

  He chuckled. “Aye, I’ve never thought of William as the voice of reason, but I’m certain ’twas only his intervention that stopped them. And he was so bloody angry with me too, I’m still not sure why he did it.”

  She scoffed, slapping at his chest. “Because he loves ye, ye big eejit.”

  He put a finger to her l
ips. “Mind yer wee, sharp tongue, lassie, or I’ll keep it busy doing something else.”

  She giggled and hopped onto the bed, turned on her side and pulled him down beside her. “But ye know it’s true. He does love ye. And ye should count yer blessings. My ears rang for days from the tongue lashing I got from my sisters.”

  He leaned up on his elbow. “They love ye too.”

  “Aye, they do. But ye know, it took reminding Gillie of how it felt when she had no control over her future to soften her a bit. Then I told them about Father Giles and the rings.”

  “And ye think that was the key to them to support our decision?”

  “Are ye jesting? Ye do remember that story don’t ye?”

  He gave her backside a playful swat. “Aye, lass, I do.”

  “Fallon was sobbing and apologizing for standing in our way at all by the time I was done.”

  He laughed. “Aye, your sisters are formidable foes, and even better allies. When Gillian suggested holding the wedding celebration as planned and William jumped on the idea, there was no sense arguing.”

  “Well, that was all they wanted really. To be able to make a clear statement to all of the Highland clans that the MacLennans and Grants had united.”

  “Aye. I suppose so.”

  She looked him in the eye. “And, of course, since we were married in the Church instead of handfasting, no one really cared that the bride was pregnant by the day of the celebration.”

  “Nay, I don’t suppose so.”

  She continued to look at him, mischief dancing in her eyes.

  “Wait. Are ye saying…”

  She nodded.

  “A bairn? We’re having a bairn?”

  A brilliant smile spread across her face. “Aye. October, I think.”

  “Nay ye’re jesting.”

  “I’m not jesting. God willing, we’re going to have a bairn after the harvest.”

  He pulled her onto his chest, hugging her close and kissing her. “I’m going to be a father. Ailsa, that’s amazing.”

  She laughed. “Considering yer fondness for the activity that caused it, it’s not all that amazing, ye big eejit.”

  He growled, rolling her to her back. “Now that’s the second time in the last few minutes ye’ve called me a big eejit, and I think my naughty lass needs to be reminded to show a little respect.”