Ceci Giltenan

by Highland Solution

  “Laird, are ye listening?” he heard Cairbre ask.

  “Listening? My apologies, I was preoccupied for a moment.”

  “A moment? Ye have been preoccupied all evening,” Cairbre answered. “Ye can’t take your eyes off her. Has she captured your heart, lad?”

  Momentarily taken aback by the comment, Niall recovered quickly. “Make no mistake, Cairbre,” Niall said soberly, “She is lovely and she pleases me. I am glad she is my wife, but my heart was never part of this bargain.”

  Niall retired with Katherine as soon as the evening meal ended. It had been a very long day and his yearning to taste her charms once again had only intensified during the meal. This surely was what Cairbre had perceived. Once they reached their chamber, Niall pulled her into his arms and kissed her. She was so sweet and responsive. He wondered how he had been able to think of anything other than kissing her since he first captured her lips in the chapel at Cotharach. If he thought giving in to into those desires the previous evening at Brathanead would quench his need, he realized now he was sorely mistaken. He explored her mouth zealously with his tongue as she responded eagerly.

  He pulled her hair loose from the braid, running his fingers through it. Clutching the silky lengths, he sought her mouth, finding her kisses and mewling responses intoxicating. He undressed her as he had the night before, but tonight she returned the favor, removing his plaid and belt.

  “Ye are too tall, bend down. I can’t get your tunic off.”

  Bending forward he said, “It is also called a léine, but ye can call it anything ye wish, as long as ye remove it. I love the feel of your hands on me.”

  Obliging, she removed the garment, rubbing his shoulders. She ran her hands lightly through the sandy hair on his chest before clasping them behind his neck and boldly pulling him into another kiss. He gave a low growl of pure pleasure, her delicate touch making him shudder with desire. He had never wanted anyone as much as he did this sweet little morsel in his arms. He lifted her and carried her to the bed.

  As he had the night before, he took a moment to savor the exquisitely beautiful lass lying naked in his bed with her shimmering hair spread beneath her. She blushed shyly, but it pleased him that she didn’t attempt to cover herself.

  “I don’t think I will ever tire of looking at you, sweetling.” He lowered himself onto the bed beside her, kissed her forehead, and rubbed his cheek against her hair. “You are sweet enough to eat,” he said, burying his face in her neck, kissing and nibbling at it until she giggled. That musical sound, which had distracted him all evening, was now his alone to enjoy.

  She appeared to lose herself in the sensations, responding to his touch and exploring his hard muscled body with her hands. He teased her nipples into hard peaks, flicking them lightly with his tongue. He grinned when he heard her swift intake of air and he continued suckling one breast while he rubbed the firm peak of the other. He slid his hand down her body, finding the spot that had driven her mad the evening before. Moaning, she pushed into his touch, seeking more. “I love your touch, too,” she whispered, her blush deepening.

  Her uninhibited response thrilled him. All conscious thought fled his brain and he became aware only of the fire growing within him. As she writhed against him, the almost unbearably intense sensations overwhelmed him. Her unrestrained response increased his own desire until he ached to possess her completely. He pushed her legs apart and entered her with as much restraint as he could muster. He did not want to risk hurting her, but she crushed his good intentions. She was like a wild thing rising to meet him. She drove him deep within her, over and over again, until he felt her muscles contract around him as she reached her climax moments before he exploded with his own release.

  Panting, his head dropped to her forehead. He eased his weight off her, lying at her side, his hands still caressing her silken skin. Breathless, she looked up at him, her green eyes dark with passion. As he ran his hand lightly down her body, she shivered.

  “Lass, ye delight me,” he said huskily.

  Smiling, she said, “I haven’t quite figured out what it is you do to me.”

  He laughed and pulled her to him so her back was to his chest and his arms encircled her. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to keep doing it then, at least until you get it sorted out,” he said, and kissed her head.

  ~ * ~

  In moments his breathing had become slow and regular and she knew he had drifted off to sleep. She found that a little astonishing because she felt energized. As she listened to his deep steady breaths, she enjoyed feeling the weight of his arms around her.

  She had never really imagined what it might be like to fall in love, or to feel loved by a man. Smiling to herself, she supposed that as a young lass she might have had some romantic notions about love. She couldn’t really remember too much about her parents’ relationship. Like her marriage to Niall, her parents barely knew each other when they married, but they had seemed affectionate. She remembered her father’s sorrow when her mother died. Maybe they had grown to love each other.

  After her father died, she’d had precious little time to think of much else other than protecting her clan and herself from her vicious uncle. The fear of who her uncle might choose for her accompanied any thought of marriage, so she avoided romantic thoughts at all costs.

  Now she found herself in the arms of a husband who, by all accounts, was a good man who was respected by his clan. She enjoyed his company and she reveled in his love-making. She knew she could love Niall, but she feared he could not love her in return. She had heard him tell Cairbre, “My heart was never part of this bargain.” A voice inside of her told her to tread carefully, there would be pain on this road. It would be best to accept what Niall could offer, but at all costs protect her heart.

  Then Father James’ words came back to her. You have learned the surest way to open yourself to hurt is to love and yet you love anyway. She realized it was too late. Not only could she love him, but she feared she had already lost her heart to him. If you can’t love me back, Niall, please, please, don’t hurt me too badly.

  ~ * ~

  The sun had risen when Niall woke in the morning with the beautiful nymph from last night still in his arms. The lacerations on her back had mostly healed, leaving red scars. He knew eventually they would fade, joining the other fine white lines there, but he wondered if he would ever be able to look at them without a murderous rage building. He leaned down to kiss her white shoulder. She stirred and rolled over to face him. Smiling sleepily, she said, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning, my sweet,” he said and kissed her. She stretched like a cat as she wrapped her arms around him, returning his kiss full measure. He wanted nothing more than to make love to her again as he had last night, but he knew he should give her a little time. He pulled away, saying, “Ah, temptress, we will have to pick this up later, or nothing will ever be accomplished at Duncurra again.”

  “Well, then, get off me, ye brute,” she said, laughing. As he rolled to his side, she hopped out of bed, washed quickly, and dressed. After watching her for a bit, he, too, rose to dress and as he did, she asked, “Niall, have you given any more thought to Tomas?”

  He really didn’t want to start the morning out with this, but he knew he had to address the issue. Resigned to it he answered, “Some. Tell me, why was Tomas living in the stable at Cotharach?”

  “Because I was fond of him and my uncle is cruel.”

  He frowned and said, “I was looking for a bit more information than that.”

  She sighed, “It isn’t just that Uncle Ambrose is cruel, it is almost as if he enjoys causing pain. He takes pleasure in his victim’s reaction to it.” The anger Niall felt earlier, when looking at her scarred back, rose again.

  Katherine paced as she explained, “I learned if I controlled my emotions and didn’t let him see he was hurting me, he soon lost interest in trying. Then he discovered he could hurt me through other people. If he saw me show someone a kindne
ss, causing that person pain became another way to punish me. When Tomas’ grandfather died a few months ago, Uncle Ambrose found a new target in Tomas. He said he was being very generous to let Tomas live in the stable and if anyone interfered, they would be punished. I interfered a bit.”

  Niall arched an eyebrow saying, “The scars on your back suggest ye interfered more than a bit.”

  “All right, I interfered a lot, but no one else dared.”

  Niall thought about this for a moment before saying, “So you feel responsible for him?”

  “Partially, I guess,” she answered. Her brow furrowed as she appeared to consider her feelings about the little boy.

  “I have clansmen with families who would take him in.”

  She looked stricken. “Do you think that is best? I was hoping—I was just hoping...” she stammered. “Niall, please, can he not just stay with us?”

  Niall reached for her to stop her pacing. With his hands on her shoulders, he said, “As what Katherine, a stable boy? He needs parents.”

  “Can we not be his parents?”

  “Ye are asking me to claim a Lowland peasant child as my foster son?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me that he was a peasant. I—I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would matter to you. I love him,” she finished somewhat helplessly.

  She had finally said the words he wanted to hear. “It doesn’t matter to me. I want him to have parents who love him.” He paused again, considering the decision he was about to make. “I think he will. He is ours.”

  She rewarded him with a heart-stopping smile and, to his surprise, threw her arms around him and kissed him soundly.

  ~ * ~

  When they arrived in the great hall they found a number of people there breaking their fast. Fingal, Diarmad, and Tomas sat at the laird’s table. Before Niall and Katherine joined them, Edna, Bridie, and several other women approached. Edna said, “Laird, there is something the women of the clan would like to give Lady Katherine.” He nodded to her and she turned to Katherine.

  “My lady, it is a Highland tradition that when a woman is married, she covers her hair with a kertch.” She indicated the covering on her own head. “It is a triangle of pure white linen and represents the Holy Trinity, under whose guidance the bride will walk. By custom, the bride’s mother or another clanswoman ties it on her head the morning after her wedding, asking for God’s blessing on the new bride.”

  Bridie stepped forward and said, “We became your clanswomen when ye married our laird and, although a few mornings have passed since your wedding, we would like to give ye a kertch now.” She tied the kertch on Katherine’s head. Together the women said the prayer for God’s blessing and each one gave her a kiss on the cheek.

  Appearing overcome by the gesture, several tears slipped down Katherine’s cheeks before she could blink them back. “Thank you,” she whispered. Edna gave her a quick hug, and the women curtsied before excusing themselves.

  Niall hadn’t thought much about it, frankly, but the fact that his clanswomen had welcomed her in this way pleased him. Even though it was not a custom in the Lowlands, the gracious way in which Katherine had accepted it also pleased him. Smiling he took Katherine’s hand, walking with her to the table. She wiped away her tears as they sat down. Tomas looked at her seriously and said in a loud whisper to Fingal, “Lady Katherine doesn’t like people to see her cry.”

  “It’s all right,Tomas,” she said, embarrassed, “These are happy tears.”

  “Tomas,” Niall said, his voice sounding very serious.

  “Aye, Laird?” Tomas answered in a small voice.

  “Lady Katherine and I have decided ye need to have a family, ye need parents.”

  “But I don’t know how to get a family,” Tomas said, sounding concerned.

  “That’s all right, Tomas, you don’t need to worry about that,” Katherine said, and knelt beside him. “We thought maybe you would like for us to be your parents.”

  “Really? Can I call you Mama?”

  “Aye, sweetheart,” she said, and he flung himself into her arms, nearly knocking her over with his fierce hug. Then he looked shyly up at Niall and asked in another loud whisper, “What do I call the laird?”

  “I think ‘Da’ will be fine.” Niall said and Tomas threw his arms around Niall’s legs.

  Fingal laughed, saying, “Before ye ask, Tomas, ye can call me Uncle Fingal.”

  Nine

  With Edna’s help, Katherine slipped easily into life at Duncurra during the next several weeks. Her days fell into a comfortable rhythm. Although Katherine was in the habit of waking very early, Niall generally arose before her. He had usually dressed and gone by the time she woke. He spent much of the day away from the keep, seeing to the needs of the clan and the training of his men, while she managed the keep.

  Katherine looked forward to the evenings when they sat together by the hearth in the great hall before retiring. While no one could ever forget Niall was their laird, he seemed more relaxed and at his ease during this time. Fingal and Diarmad nearly always joined them, as did other guardsmen occasionally. Tomas also liked to stay with them at least long enough to hear several stories before Katherine put him to bed. During these relaxed evenings, Katherine began to see the man she married more clearly.

  When they did retire, she found joy with him she had never dared to hope for. One evening as they lay in each other’s arms savoring the afterglow of their love-making, the gold ring on her left hand caught her eye. She smiled to herself as she remembered her thoughts about it on her wedding day. As each day passed she recognized that the stranger to whom the king had given her hand now very firmly held her heart.

  Happier than she had been in many years, Katherine embraced her Highland clansmen and their culture without reserve. Katherine found the women of her new clan more than willing to help her adjust. She hadn’t had a woman in her life to guide and help her since her mother’s death and it pleased her when every matron in the clan, most particularly Bridie, treated her like a daughter. It was not uncommon to hear, “Och, lass, let me show ye now, if ye do that this way...,” and she was genuinely happy to learn from them. She didn’t mind the familiarity. It also wasn’t uncommon to hear her say to an older woman, “Och, Ana, that is much too heavy for ye to lift, let me get it.” Truthfully, she knew exactly how to run a castle and she worked as hard as her clanswomen did, which earned their respect.

  Learning how to live with the man she had married proved to be a bit more difficult. As laird, he ruled the clan without question. The words he said to her on her first evening at Duncurra, Katherine, if I ask ye to do something, I want no argument. I expect ye to do it, came back to her over and over again.

  Katherine had no idea how difficult that seemingly simple request would be for her. It seemed odd in a way because her uncle was certainly demanding. If he gave her a specific order, she followed it, or at least her interpretation of it. However, other than the things he needed to ensure his own personal comfort, he didn’t really care about much else. She found Niall much more demanding in many ways, and while he would never raise a hand to her, she managed to raise his ire frequently. More often than not this happened because she broke a rule she either didn’t know or didn’t understand. In some cases she didn’t quite realize something he said was an order.

  On one of these occasions Katherine was working in one of the kitchens preparing an infusion of wych elm. When it came to preparing the plants and herbs she used in medicines, she preferred to complete the tasks herself to ensure the best results. Although time for the midday meal approached, she didn’t expect Niall back at Duncurra until evening. She planned to finish her task and, if necessary, give orders to serve the meal without her. One of the serving maids found her in the kitchen.

  “Lady Katherine, the laird has just arrived.”

  “He’s back already? I didn’t expect him until much later.”

  “He said he is ready for the meal to be served.”

>   Intent on her work, Katherine said cheerily, “Oh, please begin without me, then.”

  In a few minutes the maid was back, saying, “My lady, the laird asks ye to join him for the meal.”

  “Well, please tell him I can’t leave just at the moment, I need to finish this. Go ahead and serve the meal, and I will be along in a bit.”

  Moments later a white-faced Bridie found her and said, “Och, lass, the laird’s in a fine temper. I will finish this for ye. Go.”

  “What is he in a temper over?” Katherine asked, thoroughly confused.

  “Lass, did Seanna not just come and tell ye the laird wants ye to join him for the meal?”

  “Aye, but—”

  “If he wants ye to join him, ye’d best not keep him waiting,” she said, shooing her away from the kettle.

  Exasperated, Katherine went to join Niall at the table. The hall was unusually quiet and the glare with which he pierced her as she entered would have put the fear of God into most people. When she reached the table, she said matter-of-factly “You’re angry.”

  “Aye. I’m angry.”

  Glancing at the table she saw Diarmad suddenly rubbing his brow, looking as if he was trying desperately not to laugh.

  “Why?” she asked.

  “Why?” he repeated incredulously. “Ye defied me.”

  “Defied you?” She sounded astonished. “I’m terribly sorry. I certainly didn’t intend to defy you.”

  “Ye didn’t intend—Katherine, sit down,” he growled and motioned for the servants to serve the meal.

  When the noise in the hall rose to normal levels, Katherine leaned over and said sweetly, “Niall, how did I defy you?” Diarmad shook in silent laughter.

  Now it was Naill who looked astonished. “Katherine, were ye not told that I wanted ye to join me for the meal?”

  “Aye.”

  “And did ye not say me nay?”

  “Not exactly, I didn’t realize it was a command, and I just couldn’t leave what I was doing at that moment.”

  “Katherine, if I ask ye to do something, I expect ye to do it. I don’t care what else ye are doing at the time. I will not tolerate defiance. Don’t do it again.”