The women laughed, and Brigid continued more seriously, “What isn’t in the wreath is important too, my love. Ye are not a mouse. Ye are a lovely, gentle young woman, and I am very proud of ye.” She kissed her daughter’s cheeks and placed a sheer lace veil on her head. Annag positioned the wreath on top of the veil to hold it in place.
Her mother smiled warmly at her. “Ye look perfectly lovely, Mairead. Now, before we go to the chapel, here is your bouquet. It contains lavender for luck and devotion, myrtle for everlasting love and marital bliss, sage for long life and domestic virtue, rosemary for remembrance, parsley for happiness, and a little more thyme for courage.”
Mairead looked around the room at her mother, sisters, and sisters-in-law. She loved these women. When they left in a few days, her heart would ache with missing them. Everything she had learned about running a household or being a wife and mother they had taught her. She would carry those skills and their wisdom with her always. These thoughts filled her heart, and she wanted to express them, but though she searched, the only words she could summon were, “Thank ye, for everything.” Their smiles told her they understood.
Just then, her father appeared at the door, dressed in his finest and looking very happy. “They’re ready, love,” he said to his wife. Then he looked across the room at his youngest daughter. He stared as if drinking her in. “Mairead, lass, ye’re breathtaking.”
“Thank ye, Da.”
He walked across the room to her, kissed her cheek, and took her arm. “Well, little one, shall we go?” Her mother and sisters followed them down the stairs.
When they reached the great hall, it was empty except for her sisters’ husbands and all of her brothers but Flan. The room fell silent for a moment when she entered.
Cullen broke the silence first. “Ah, Mairead, sweetling, ye’re a beautiful bride.”
The rest of her brothers heartily agreed. They all hugged her and wished her well. Her mother, too, gave her one last hug and everyone except Annag, who would stand with Mairead, left the hall to join the guests in the courtyard.
Cathal kissed both daughters on the cheek. “Well, my bonny lassies, we have a wedding to get to.” They stepped out of the keep onto the top step and Annag walked ahead of them, the crowd parting for her.
Standing by her father’s side, looking across the crowd of people filling the courtyard, Mairead felt very nervous and a little frightened. She began to tremble. “Da,” she whispered, “I—I…”
Her father took her arm firmly and whispered, “’Tis only a wee short walk we have to take now, sweetling. Are ye ready?”
“Aye, Da, I guess I am as ready as I’ll ever be,” she whispered back but all she really wanted to do was run in the other direction.
Her father chuckled. “Ah, my sweet, wee lass, ye’re a brave MacKenzie, never forget that.”
She nervously scanned the crush of wedding guests in the courtyard. Father Colm stood in front of the chapel. Finally, she found Tadhg. He stood to the priest’s left, beaming and looking directly at her, capturing her gaze. He looked calm and confident and once again her doubts fled.
Cathal escorted Mairead down the steps and through the crowd. When they reached the chapel steps, Fingal MacIan and Flan stood with Tadhg. A grin split Flan’s face from ear to ear. Her little brother’s enthusiasm was infectious, and she grinned back at him.
The ceremony began outside the chapel with Father Colm asking the assembly if anyone knew of any reason Tadhg and Mairead could not be married, but the banns had been posted and the question was met with silence. Then Father Colm asked the bride and groom to assert their will to marry. “Tadhg Matheson, will ye have this woman to thy wedded wife, will ye love her, and honor her, keep her and guard her, in health and in sickness, as a husband should a wife, and forsaking all others on account of her, keep ye only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Tadhg answered, “I will,” in a strong, clear voice.
Then it was Mairead’s turn, and she too answered, “I will,” with no hesitation.
“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”
“I do,” answered Mairead’s father and he turned to her, kissed her cheek, and whispered, “I’m very proud of ye, love.” Then he stepped back and moved Mairead until she stood directly beside Tadhg.
After they had exchanged their vows, Father Colm asked for the ring, and Flan stepped forward, giving it to him. The priest blessed it before passing it to Tadhg, who placed it on the third finger of Mairead’s left hand. “With this ring, I thee wed, in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.”
Father blessed them and led them into the chapel, followed by Annag, Fingal, Flan, the MacKenzies, the lairds of all of the clans present, and as many of the rest of the assembly as could fit for the nuptial Mass. The chapel doors remained open for the benefit of those who stood in the courtyard. When the Mass was over, Father Colm gave the couple a final blessing, announcing loudly, “Laird Matheson, ye may kiss your bride.”
Tadhg looked into her eyes and kissed her soundly. A deafening cheer went up. His kiss left her breathless and blissfully unaware of the crowd for a moment. When she recovered she blushed, but she couldn’t remember ever being happier.
They led the assembly back into the great hall for the lavish wedding feast. Sweetened wine mulled with spices, honeyed mead, and ale flowed freely. They feasted on roasted goose, partridge and quail, as well as venison and boar. Cabbage, carrots, parsnips, and leeks accompanied the meal, as did platters of cheeses, fresh apples and pears, walnuts, almonds, imported dates, a variety of breads, and preserves of strawberry and red currents. The meal was finished with sweet cakes and tarts.
After everyone had eaten their fill, servants removed the trestle tables so the music and dancing could begin. Mairead loved music, and apparently Tadhg had spared no expense to arrange for a large number of excellent minstrels, who provided music throughout the evening.
Mairead danced with Tadhg first, before her father claimed her for a dance. It was common for the bride to dance with other honored guests, but perhaps knowing this would be challenging for her, Tadhg stayed close. Over the course of the evening, she danced with Lairds Chisholm, Ranald, MacDonnell, MacNicol, Davidson, and MacBain. They were all men with whom she was acquainted, as Hogan MacBain was her brother-in-law and the others were fathers-in-law to her siblings. Laird MacIan asked her for a dance and she tensed. Tadhg looked poised to step in, but somehow just knowing he was there gave her the courage to dance with this huge man whom she had only just met.
When the dance was over, they joined Katherine and Tadhg, who had been watching. Tadhg caught her and to everyone’s delight, gave her a quick kiss.
“Ye are a wonderful dancer,” exclaimed Katherine. “I love watching the Highland dances, but I’m not very skilled at them myself,” she confided.
Laird MacIan slipped his arm around his wife, kissing her cheek. “But there is no one I would rather dance with than ye, my love.” He pulled her laughing and protesting away with him to join the next dance.
Mairead smiled after them, fanning herself with her hands.
Tadhg gave her an appraising look. “It looks as if ye could use a wee break from dancing.”
“Aye, that I could,” she admitted honestly, so he led her off to get a drink before another guest could claim her.
As they walked to the laird’s table, her father, who was well into his cups, called to her. “Mairead, will ye not play an air on the harp for your Da?”
“My harp hasn’t been unpacked yet, Da,” Mairead said, thankful for the excuse.
“Lass, I am sure yon harper would let ye play his,” her father persisted.
Mairead was mortified. “Oh, Da, nay, don’t ask me to perform, not in front of all of these people.”
“Lass, ye’re more talented than any musician here and your new husband has never heard ye play. If not for me, play something for him.”
She turned terror-filled
eyes to Tadhg, who just smiled at her and said lightly, “Laird MacKenzie, any other evening I would love to hear Mairead play the harp, but it has been a very long day. I am sure ye will forgive me but right now, I am anxious to escape with my bride.” Before anyone could object, Tadhg whisked her out of the hall.
Six
When they were out of earshot, Mairead whispered, “Thank ye.”
Tadhg laughed. “It was the truth. I am anxious to escape with my bride.” He leaned down and gave her a kiss. When she parted her lips, he deepened the kiss, and she gave a little moan of pleasure. Releasing her lips, he smiled at her, took her hand, and continued to lead her to his chamber in the south tower.
“We’re leaving the celebration?”
“Aye, little one. I thought it best to spirit ye away before they could call for the bedding ritual. I suspect it might embarrass ye.” Although the ceremony could be as simple as the priest blessing the marriage bed, it generally happened in the presence of friends and family after they put the couple into the bed. Tadhg worried a ceremony like this would have been more than his shy bride could handle.
Her relief was palpable. “Oh, Tadhg, thank ye. I hadn’t even thought about the bedding ritual. But what if—what if…”
“What if they call for it anyway? Ye have nothing to worry about, Mairead. I talked to Father Colm about this yesterday. As ye can imagine, he understands your shyness. He agreed to slip away earlier and bless the bed. If the crowd calls for it, he will assure them it has been done.”
They passed through an antechamber before entering his bedchamber. Like everything else at Cnocreidh, the laird’s bedchamber was very large and comfortably appointed. He pulled her into his arms and gave her another kiss. She melted against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her warm response pleased him.
“Ye are so beautiful,” he said as he ran his hands softly over her back and down her sides, ending the journey by cupping her breasts in his hands. “And ye taste so sweet.” He continued the gentle assault on her mouth, sliding his tongue over hers then lightly sucking on her lower lip. He gently rubbed his thumbs over her nipples and they pebbled under his touch. She gave another low moan, responding to his tender ministrations.
He found his little bride entirely delicious, but he needed to proceed very carefully. He lifted the wreath from her head, setting it aside and letting the veil slip to the floor behind her. “Mairead, my sweet,” he whispered between kisses, “I want to see all of your beauty.” He removed her plaid, allowing it to fall to the floor before returning his hands to her breasts, rubbing them lightly again. She arched against his touch.
To his surprise and pleasure, she asked shyly, “Shall I help ye undress?”
“Aye, my sweet, if ye wish.” With trembling fingers she removed the fastening for his plaid, letting it join her own on the floor. Her small hands roamed over his chest and shoulders; the feather light touch inflamed him even through the fabric of his léine. He continued to remove her clothes, his lips trailing kisses over her skin as he did.
When she was wearing only her thin shift, he said, “Mairead, ye take my breath away. Can I see all of ye?” She gave him a shy little nod, and he removed her shift, allowing it to fall to the floor as well. She blushed and glanced down, but he nudged her chin up, and he captured her lips again. Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed, laying her gently on it.
She was a vision. Her thick brown curls lay like a silk cushion under her delicate, lushly curved body. He drank in the exquisite sight for a moment and, although her blush deepened, she didn’t look away from him this time. “My lovely bride, ye please me so.” She gave him a hesitant smile and her silver eyes sparkled.
He removed the remainder of his clothes quickly. Mairead gasped as he pulled his léine off. He lay on the bed beside her and gently stroked the length of her body, planting soft kisses on her face. As she relaxed into his touch, his lips moved to her neck, making her purr with pleasure. Then he continued his journey to her silky shoulder, before finally capturing a nipple lightly with his mouth and suckling gently. She tensed, but only for a moment before she relaxed again.
As he continued to gently lave her pert nipple, she murmured, “Mmmm, I like that.”
“Do ye? Let’s see what else ye might like.” His hand trailed down her stomach until he reached the nest of curls hiding her womanhood. His fingers stroked her softly, and he smiled at the slightly surprised look on her face. She didn’t move to stop him. He slipped a finger between her soft folds, lightly stroking the sensitive bud hidden there and was rewarded by a throaty moan. He reclaimed her lips with his, suckling on her lower lip.
She writhed against him as he massaged the sensitive spot between her legs. Her breath came in short gasps. He could feel the tension building in her—she was close to her release. Paying close attention for any sign indicating she was afraid or he needed to stop, he slipped a finger in her snug passage. Grasping his shoulders she arched against him and cried out his name as her body convulsed in ecstasy. Watching her reach her climax was the most beautifully erotic thing he had ever witnessed, and he ached with need for her. However, he waited, holding her close as she recovered.
“Oh, Tadhg, that was—that was—what was that?”
“Ye liked it?” He grinned.
“Oh, aye, I did.”
“That was your woman’s release.”
“But, ye didn’t—we didn’t…”
He chuckled, “We’re not finished, little one.”
“Nay?”
“Nay, but Mairead, ye are still a virgin.”
“What? Nay, I can’t be.”
“Sweetling, ye are.”
“How do ye know?”
“I could tell when I touched ye inside.”
“I don’t understand. I felt him—there. It hurt.”
“I know the bastard who attacked ye hurt ye, sweetling, but he didn’t break through your maidenhead. Perhaps it was his hand ye felt inside. He didn’t take your virginity.”
She looked bewildered. “Mairead, I am only telling ye this because the first time might hurt ye. If ye want to wait, we can. I don’t want ye to be scared.”
She looked at him silently for a moment, as if considering his words, then she said, “I don’t want to wait. I want ye to make me your wife.”
Tadhg thought his heart would explode. This sweet, shy lass he had married was no mouse. After all she had been through, she wanted him to make love to her. “I’ll be as careful as I can. Ye can always tell me to stop.”
~ * ~
Still a virgin? Mairead tried to wrap her mind around it but couldn’t. She couldn’t concentrate. Her husband began nuzzling her neck and kissing her again. The things his kisses did to her. Just as she had before, she writhed and purred under his touch. This was wonderful. All conscious thoughts fled and her world was reduced to pure sensation.
Oh, dear Lord, he was touching her there again. Once more the exquisite tension was building as he stroked between her moist folds. Tell him to stop? Not likely. She arched against him, panting. He knelt between her legs and eased into her a little. She felt stretched, but no pain. He pulled out and pushed in again a little deeper. His hand slipped between them, and he massaged the tiny sensitive nub at her apex. He kept teasing her opening with just the head of his manhood. Finally, with one sharp thrust he breached her maidenhead.
She gasped, and her eyes flew open at the sharp pain. He held very still, and continued the sensuous assault on her body, trailing kisses over her lips and breasts. The pain was already receding, and gradually the tension in her core built again. She wanted to move. She wanted him to move. “Please, Tadhg,” she whispered, pushing up against him, trying to urge him on. Only then did he begin to move slowly within her. Her movements become frenzied, driving him to increase his pace.
“Let it go, Mairead,” he whispered and she shattered in his arms, crying out his name. As the waves of her release shuddered through her body, while still i
n the throes of her climax, Tadhg groaned, and his hot seed filled her. Panting, he rested his forehead on hers and whispered, “Mairead.” It was almost a supplication.
He shifted his weight to the side and held her to him, still joined.
She ran her hands lightly down his arms and across his chest. He captured one of her hands in his and kissed her fingertips. “Are ye all right?”
“Oh, aye. More than all right.” Her voice still sounded breathless, and she felt a bit dazed.
“I didn’t hurt ye overmuch?”
“Nay, not that I remember.” She flashed him a wicked smile.
He chuckled and kissed her again.
Gently he pulled out of her and tucked her snuggly beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. He buried his head in her hair, inhaling deeply. “I love the feel of ye in my arms and ye smell heavenly.”
“It must be the thyme.”
“The time for what?”
Mairead laughed. “Thyme, the herb, for courage. It was in my bath, my bouquet, and the wreath on my head.”
“Oh, Mairead, were ye so afraid, then?”
“Honestly, nay.”
“That pleases me more than I can tell ye.” He hugged her tightly for a moment and, kissing the top of her head said, “Good night, my sweet little bride.”
“Good night,” she whispered back. Soon his breathing became slow and regular signaling that he had fallen asleep. Sated and relaxed, she sighed happily. The faint scent of thyme assailed her. Thyme for courage. Nay, she didn’t need it for this. Here she was, lying completely naked in the arms of an equally naked man whom she had only known for a few days. To her utter bewilderment she didn’t feel remotely shy. In fact, she was more comfortable and content than she had ever been. Basking in this serenity, she drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Before dawn, she woke to find herself draped across his chest, with one of her legs between his, her thigh pressed against his manhood. She stirred and nuzzled her cheek against the soft hair on his chest. A low rumbling growl rose from him, and she looked up to find him watching her.
Highland Courage Page 5
