by Paula Quinn
“Finn?” She waited until his song was done and the boys hopped into Connor’s lap next.
“Aye, love?”
She tilted her lips to his ear and whispered into it. “I want to have your child.”
His arm tightened around her. “Let’s be off then, wife.”
She laughed and blushed and pushed at him when he would have swept her out of their seat. “We must wait until after the midnight service. You know the traditions. Now please be serious.” She added this even though he looked anything but happy and it was she who couldn’t stop smiling like a dimwit. “Would you prefer a lad or a lass?”
“A lass.” He smiled down at her. “I want to watch ye teach her to grow into the kind of woman who makes us proud to be her parents.”
Leslie sighed against his lips and then slanted her gaze toward the door. “Perhaps no one would miss us.”
“Leslie,” Davina said, proving her wrong and stirring warmth in her belly. “What did you think of Father Lachlan’s supper benediction?”
“I enjoyed it very much,” Leslie told her honestly. “I wasn’t expecting such passion in his words.”
Davina nodded, agreeing. “For a man so far in his years, he’s quite humorous too, don’t you think?” She went on without giving Leslie a chance to agree or disagree. “It may seem a bit more somber here than usual but in just a few days the celebration of Hogmanay”—she shared the flash of her smile with Finn before turning back to Leslie—“will begin and there will be dancing and singing and games…”
“My wife enjoys the dancing most,” Rob told Leslie, then sat on the floor by Davina’s feet. He laughed and caught his son when the child leaped from his mother’s lap and into his.
“It’s because I get to dance with Tristan,” Davina admitted, then squealed with laughter when her husband snatched her by the ankles and pulled her, along with their baby daughter, out of their seat and into his lap.
“Ye’ll be gentle with my gel, Robbie.” His aunt, Maggie MacGregor, smacked the side of his head gently before falling into his chair next and accepting wee Caitrina into her arms. “And Colin, ye’ll keep that dog away from my ducks or he’ll deal with me.” She narrowed her eyes on little Edmund’s dog, Aurelius, until the scruffy pup tucked his tail between his legs and looked away.
Aye, Leslie loved Camlochlin and the people in it. The only thing better than being here with them was being alone with Finn. He wanted a daughter. The idea of raising a little girl with him heated her blood.
“We have two hours at least before the stroke of midnight, beloved,” he whispered into her hair, as if knowing her thoughts.
Leslie feigned a gaping yawn, stretching her arms above her head. “I think I will enjoy a short nap before mass.”
“Not too short, we hope,” Tristan called out as Finn rose with her from the settee to escort her to bed.
Leslie blushed two shades darker when she met the knowing faces smiling back at her.
“We’ll see ye all later,” Finn called out over his shoulder, completely unfazed by the fact that everyone in the solar knew where they were heading and why.
The door opened as they reached it and Andrew and Margaret entered with Brodie with Helen Harrison on his arm. Leslie smiled at them all, filled with the truth that the only thing better than living at Camlochlin with Finn was living here with most of her family.
“Where are you off to, dear?”
When their eyes met, Leslie saw the same joy in her mother’s glowing smile that she felt in her own. She had been correct about her mother loving Brodie and being happy with him here in Camlochlin. Leslie wondered if her mother wasn’t happier now than she’d ever been before.
“Just retiring for a short bit, Mother.”
Leslie had never seen her mother blush before. She looked lovely, younger. And it was because of the man at her side. Who would have known that such a brusque, hardened warrior could win her mother’s heart? Brodie MacGregor growled at most folks, whether they were men, women, or children. He didn’t give a rat’s arse about much, except perhaps his whisky and one other thing.
“Mr. MacGregor?” Leslie stopped him when he would have moved past her.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for making my mother so happy.”
For a moment he looked at bit lost, then he looked around to make certain no one else was watching or listening to him.
“She’s agreed t’ marry me. So ’tis she who makes me the happy one.”
Leslie’s heart swelled in the doorway of the solar. All of this would have been lost to them if Finn hadn’t come to Glenelg to take her back. He saved her from a miserable, loveless marriage and probably one for her mother, too.
“I’ll see you at mass.” Leslie kissed her mother, took Finn’s hand, and led him away.
“Ye’re eager,” he said deeply against the back of her nape.
“Aye.” She stopped herself from tugging him to go faster. Eager was one thing. Pathetic was another.
But he was braver than any warrior, brighter than any angel, more captivating than any champion of legend.
His heart was true, and it longed for her.
She turned to him and, walking backward, toted him forward. “I’m yours, Finn Grant. I love you and only you for the rest of my days.”
She loved watching his reaction to her ardent confessions. Since returning with him, she’d discovered which things he enjoyed hearing the most and then made it her duty to say them often.
“I want your hands on me…and your mouth—”
He swept his arm around her waist and hauled her against him. His mouth was hot and hungry on hers, his tongue, slow and sensuous…tasting her, teasing her until passion deepened, his embrace tightened and he went hard as a boulder against her.
“Tonight,” he promised thickly, letting her go and staring into her eyes as she stepped away and turned to run, “I’m going to give ye a daughter.”
He followed her up the stairs and along two corridors to the door of their room. Reaching it, he swooped down and pulled her up in his arms to carry her across the threshold and bring her to their bed.
* * *
Finlay Grant, master bard to the clan chief MacGregor of the MacGregors of Skye, could find no speech to pay homage to his wife while he watched her take him to the hilt. Her lids were heavy, her full lips parted slightly, expelling short puffs of warm breath. When her tongue peeked from between to lick her ravenous lips, he knew if he kissed her, he would lose control of himself too soon. He tried to think of words befitting and worthy of what she meant to him, how she looked to him, sounded against his ear, felt against his flesh and muscle, but nothing came. Nothing compared. Not that he would be able to speak such praises with his jaw clamped in ecstasy. He would tell her after, when her sinuous smile wasn’t tempting him to take her harder. He lost the battle, much to her delight, and stroked her with long, deep plunges until they both cried out.
Sated, for now, Finn sank to the mattress and pulled her into his embrace. “In a few hours ’twill be Christmas, the day when the greatest gift of love was given to the world. ’Tis fitting that ye are here in my arms, my bed. Ye make words insignificant, but I would tell nonetheless. I love ye, lass.”
He felt her smile against his chest, satisfied with his confession, as bare and simple as it was.
About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Paula Quinn lives in New York with her three beautiful children, five overprotective Chihuahuas, and a loud umbrella cockatoo. She loves to read romance and science fiction and has been writing since she was eleven. She loves all things medieval, but it is her love for Scotland that pulls at her heartstrings. You can write to her at [email protected].
You can learn more at:
Paulaquinn.com
Twitter, @Paula_Quinn
Facebook, Facebook.com/people/Paula-Quinn
Davina Montgomery has lived most of her life sheltered, locked away in an abbey. When her hom
e is attacked, she picks up a bow and aims at the first man she sees: a fierce and undeniably sexy Highlander…
See the next page for an excerpt from the first book in the series,
Ravished by a Highlander
SOUTHERN SCOTTISH BORDER
SPRING 1685
Chapter One
High atop Saint Christopher’s Abbey, Davina Montgomery stood alone in the bell tower, cloaked in the silence of a world she did not know. Darkness had fallen hours ago and below her the sisters slept peacefully in their beds, thanks to the men who had been sent here to guard them. But there was little peace for Davina. The vast, indigo sky filling her vision was littered with stars that seemed close enough to touch should she reach out her hand. What would she wish for? Her haunted gaze slipped southward toward England, and then with a longing just as powerful, toward the moonlit mountain peaks of the north. Which life would she choose if the choice were hers to make? A world where she’d been forgotten, or one where no one knew her? She smiled sadly against the wind that whipped her woolen novice robes around her. What good was it to ponder when her future had already been decreed? She knew what was to come. There were no variations. That is, if she lived beyond the next year. She looked away from the place she could never go and the person she could never be.
She heard the soft fall of footsteps behind her but did not turn. She knew who it was.
“Poor Edward. I imagine your heart must have failed you when you did not find me in my bed.”
When he remained quiet she felt sorry for teasing him about the seriousness of his duty. Captain Edward Asher had been sent here to protect her four years ago, after Captain Geoffries had taken ill and was relieved of his command. Edward had become more than her guardian. He was her dearest friend, someone she could confide in here within the thick walls that sheltered her from the schemes of her enemies. Edward knew her fears and accepted her faults.
“I knew where to find you,” he finally said, his voice just above a whisper.
He always did know. Not that there were many places to look. Davina was not allowed to venture outside the Abbey gates so she came to the bell tower often to let her thoughts roam free.
“My lady—”
She turned at his soft call, putting away her dreams and desires behind a tender smile. Those she kept to herself and did not share, even with him.
“Please, I…” he began, meeting her gaze and then stumbling through the rest as if the face he looked upon every day still struck him as hard as it had the first time he’d seen her. He was in love with her, and though he’d never spoken his heart openly, he did not conceal how he felt. Everything was there in his eyes, his deeds, his devotion; and a deep regret that Davina suspected had more to do with her than he would ever have the boldness to admit. Her path had been charted for another course and she could never be his. “Lady Montgomery, come away from here, I beg you. It is not good to be alone.”
He worried for her so and she wished he wouldn’t. “I’m not alone, Edward,” she reassured. If her life remained as it was now, she would find a way to be happy. She always did. “I have been given much.”
“It’s true,” he agreed, moving closer to her and then stopping himself, knowing what she knew. “You have been taught to fear the Lord and love your king. The sisters love you, as do my men. It will always be so. We are your family. But it is not enough.” He knew she would never admit it, so he said it for her.
It had to be enough. It was safer this way, cloistered away from those who would harm her if ever they discovered her after the appointed time.
That time had come.
Davina knew that Edward would do anything to save her. He told her often, each time he warned her of her peril. Diligently, he taught her to trust no one, not even those who claimed to love her. His lessons often left her feeling a bit hopeless, though she never told him that, either.
“Would that I could slay your enemies,” he swore to her now, “and your fears along with them.”
He meant to comfort her, but good heavens, she didn’t want to discuss the future on such a breathtaking night. “Thanks to you and God,” she said, leaving the wall to go to him and tossing him a playful smile, “I can slay them myself.”
“I agree,” he surrendered, his good mood restored by the time she reached him. “You’ve learned your lessons in defense well.”
She rested her hand on his arm and gave it a soft pat. “How could I disappoint you when you risked the Abbess’s consternation to teach me?”
He laughed with her, both of them comfortable in their familiarity. But too soon he grew serious again.
“James is to be crowned in less than a se’nnight.”
“I know.” Davina nodded and turned toward England again. She refused to let her fears control her. “Mayhap,” she said with a bit of defiance sparking her doleful gaze, “we should attend the coronation, Edward. Who would think to look for me at Westminster?”
“My lady…” He reached for her. “We cannot. You know—”
“I jest, dear friend.” She angled her head to speak to him over her shoulder, carefully cloaking the struggle that weighed heaviest upon her heart, a struggle that had nothing to do with fear. “Really, Edward, must we speak of this?”
“Yes, I think we should,” he answered earnestly, then went on swiftly, before she could argue, “I’ve asked the Abbess if we can move you to Courlochcraig Abbey in Ayr. I’ve already sent word to—”
“Absolutely not,” she stopped him. “I will not leave my home. Besides, we have no reason to believe that my enemies know of me at all.”
“Just for a year or two. Until we’re certain—”
“No,” she told him again, this time turning to face him fully. “Edward, would you have us leave the sisters here alone to face our enemies should they come seeking me? What defense would they have without the strong arms of you and your men? They will not leave St. Christopher’s, nor will I.”
He sighed and shook his head at her. “I cannot argue when you prove yourself more courageous than I. I pray I do not live to regret it. Very well, then.” The lines of his handsome face relaxed. “I shall do as you ask. For now though,” he added, offering her his arm, “allow me to escort you to your chamber. The hour is late and the Reverend Mother will show you no mercy when the cock crows.”
Davina rested one hand in the crook of his arm and waved away his concern with the other. “I don’t mind waking with the sun.”
“Why would you,” he replied, his voice as light now as hers as he led her out of the belfry, “when you can just fall back to sleep in the Study Hall.”
“It was only the one time that I actually slept,” she defended, slapping his arm softly. “And don’t you have more important things to do with your day than follow me around?”
“Three times,” he corrected, ignoring the frown he knew was false. “Once, you even snored.”
Her eyes, as they descended the stairs, were as wide as her mouth. “I have never snored in my life!”
“Save for that one time, then?”
She looked about to deny his charge again, but bit her curling lip instead. “And once during Sister Bernadette’s piano recital. I had penance for a week. Do you remember?”
“How could I forget?” he laughed. “My men did no chores the entire time, preferring to listen at your door while you spoke aloud to God about everything but your transgression.”
“God already knew why I fell asleep,” she explained, smiling at his grin. “I did not wish to speak poorly of Sister Bernadette’s talent, or lack of it, even in my own defense.”
His laughter faded, leaving only a smile that looked to be painful as their walk ended and they stood at her door. When he reached out to take her hand, Davina did her best not to let the surprise in her eyes dissuade him from touching her. “Forgive my boldness, but there is something I must tell you. Something I should have told you long ago.”
“Of course, Edward,” she said softly,
keeping her hand in his. “You know you may always speak freely to me.”
“First, I would have you know that you have come to mean—”
“Captain!”
Davina leaned over the stairwell to see Harry Barns, Edward’s second in command, plunge through the Abbey doors. “Captain!” Harry shouted up at them, his face pale and his breath heavy from running. “They are coming!”
For one paralyzing moment, Davina doubted the good of her ears. She’d been warned of this day for four years, but had always prayed it would not come. “Edward,” she asked hollowly, on the verge of sheer panic, “how did they find us so soon after King Charles’s death?”
He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head back and forth as if he too refused to believe what he was hearing. But there was no time for doubt. Spinning on his heel, he gripped her arm and hauled her into her room. “Stay here! Lock your door!”
“What good will that do us?” She sprang for her quiver and bow and headed back to the door, and to Edward blocking it. “Please, dear friend. I do not want to cower alone in my room. I will fire from the bell tower until it is no longer safe to do so.”
“Captain!” Barns raced up the stairs, taking three at a time. “We need to prepare. Now!”
“Edward”—Davina’s voice pulled him back to her—“you trained me for this. We need every arm available. You will not stop me from fighting for my home.”
“Orders, Captain, please!”
Davina looked back once as she raced toward the narrow steps leading back to the tower.
