Kissed by the Laird (First Ladies of the Fae Book 1)

by Sydney Sloane

  His brother smirked. “Aye. As grandsire always said, “The only good Campbell is a dead one.”

  Calum canted his head and looked toward Caroline. “I thank ye for the dance, lass Now that my brother is here…I will leave ye in his capable hands.”

  “Thank you for being patient.” Her nose wrinkled. “I hope your feet aren’t too sore tomorrow.”

  Tossing his head back, Calum laughed. “My feet are fine, but it was well worth the risk of dancing with such a beautiful lass.”

  A low growl rumbled from Ian’s chest at his brother’s remark.

  Then his brother quickly said. “Go on with ye.” He gave her a gentle push toward Ian. “I need to find Glenna, and…”

  Caroline blushed knowing he referred to the serving woman who had all but announced her willingness to sleep with him. “Calum.” There was a warning in his tone.

  “Forgive me, Caroline.” Trying his best to look chastened, but failing.

  “Don’t mind me…boys will be boys….or should I have said lads?” She wrinkled her nose at her choice of words.

  Ian threw back his head and laughed aloud. Calum joined in, but stopped when Delilah approached. The two exchanged looks, before Calum said. “I am off. I will see ye in the list in the morning runt.”

  Once Calum disappeared up the stairway, Ian looked back at Caroline and Delilah.

  “I am sorry, Laird. I did not mean to send him off. I was checking to see how Caroline fared.”

  “There is no need to apologize, Delilah. For once, it was not ye that scared him off.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “And I would say she has fared well in my absence, but why not ask yourself.”

  Caroline chimed in. “I’m glad you came. I worried you wouldn’t.” She held up her hands. “Look! My hands are like new again. That salve is amazing.”

  “Tis glad I am to hear it, m’lady.”

  The sound of the pipes set the pace for the next set, as the fiddler slowed his tempo in accompaniment.

  From the fray of his clansmen, a booming voice called for Delilah. “Come Delilah! I am claiming the dance ye promised me.”

  The Fae woman looked over her shoulder in the direction Calum ambled off to earlier, sighed, and turned back to Caroline and him. Her face lit up. “I best go, before Ivor brings down the roof with his bellowing.”

  Ian looked out over the room, and saw a few remaining couples glide around the center of the room. The image of Caroline’s eyes alight while Calum whirled her around the hall had not bothered him. It was more that another had brought forth that pleasure. He wanted to be the one to make her smile. To make her laugh. From the corner of his eye, he saw her features soften as she watched the sensual dance.

  Before he realized what he was doing he said, “May I have the pleasure of dancing with ye, Caroline?”

  Everyone around them slipped away, including his breath when she gave a radiant smile and placed a shaky hand into his.

  Wrapped safely in his arms, Ian’s eyes never left hers as he glided them across the span of the hall. At this moment, they were the only two people in the room and she prayed for the night to stand still. She was in awe by this warrior, who had the ability to move so gracefully, and with little effort. There was much more to this man than his honor or loyalty, and so many more aspects, and she found herself needing to discover more.

  As the music came to end, the applause drew her from her reverie. Still standing in the center of the room, she looked around and soon realized the reason. They were the last couple dancing, as the men and women of his clan looked on.

  “It looks like we have been made a part of the entertainment.” He smiled down at her and she could feel the heat rush to her cheeks.

  Soon the music picked up in speed again, and Ian escorted her toward the dais.

  “The waltz, Ian…is that a skill ye learned at court?” Mo Daol asked him, as he grabbed two mugs of ale from a servant who passed by.

  He handed Caroline a mug, as he spoke. “Aye, though I did not have use of this knowledge…until now.” He latched onto her free hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  Greer appeared from behind a partition with a plate of sliced, cold mutton and beef, biscuits and fruit pastry. “Tis not warm, but it was all I could find without waking up cook. If ye would like it hot, I can wake her.”

  “Thank ye, Greer. This will do fine.” As he guided Caroline around the table, Tam approached them. “If yer going to eat yer meal Ian might have the pleasure of a dance with Caroline?”

  “No.” His answer was gruff and final.

  Tam complained. “What do ye mean, no! She promised me a dance.”

  Her hand pressed against her stomach. “Actually, I did promise.” Caroline winced.

  It felt as if a snake coiled in his gut and ready to spring as he said, “If the lass promised…so be it.” Tam returned Ian’s venomous look for a victorious one. He already decided he would train with his cousin in the list first thing tomorrow morning. Somehow, he needed to deem Caroline off limits without announcing his intentions. Even if the Tir Nam Famhair, said they were destined…he was not going to presume the rest of their future was planned out. No. Caroline deserved more, and her tumultuous past was enough reason for him to take things slow. Truth be told, it was the reason for his prolonged absence. Not one whole day had passed in her presence before the need to claim her body and soul overrode his good senses. That wouldn’t do. He wanted to court her properly. Caroline deserved that much.

  The few bites of food Ian ate now sat like a piece of lead in his belly. With his hands clenched into a fist upon the table, he glared out over the hall. Delilah and Caroline danced non-stop over the last half hour. She apparently promised half his guard a dance and all were holding her to it. Calum pulled the chair up beside Ian. Without turning his head, Ian asked. “Did ye not find, Glenna?”

  On a sigh, he grounded out. “Aye, I found her.”

  “Then why are ye here?”

  Calum scowled at him and turned back to the dance floor. Ian followed his brother’s gaze and landed on Delilah. He raised a brow. “Delilah? I did not know ye had grown that fond of the lass.”

  “Fond? Nay, she has cursed me.” With his arms planted across his chest, he slouched back in the chair.

  “Cursed ye?” Ian was confused only for a heartbeat before he got Calum’s meaning.

  Though he was still in a foul mood, Ian could not help but chuckle. “Glenna must be madder than a stuck pig. Perhaps Delilah has an herb to aid with your…” He cleared his throat. “umm…issue.”

  “Shut it, Ian. We both know Delilah is the reason I am limper than a dead hare.

  If he were not still brooding about Caroline dancing with half his men, Ian would have erupted with laughter at his brother’s predicament.

  Calum said, “How is it I am here a quarter of an hour, and your lass has danced with at least six of your men.”

  Calum’s words hit their mark. His blood already smoldered when he had given consent for Caroline to dance with his cousin, now fire coursed through his veins. Ian would no longer endure the sight of any of his men’s hands upon Caroline. Jolting from his seat, Ian’s large form walked into the midst of his dancing clansmen. The unlucky man that held Caroline in his arms released her as Ian approached. A heartbeat later, he pummeled his fist into the man’s jaw. All went silent, as the fiddler’s bow dropped to the floor, and the drummer missed a beat. Then without a word, he threw Caroline over his shoulder and headed toward the stairs that lead to the family apartments above.

  Her voice pitched, and she squealed his name. “Ian!”

  “Hush, lass.” He crossed the remainder of the hall, and they disappeared into the dimness of the archway.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Caroline’s blood rushed to her head, as the blurred image of cold, gray stone passed below. A pair of thick, bare calves extended from a kilt. Ian’s kilt. One of his steps could match three of her own, and he wasted no time retreating from t
he great hall. Is this what she should expect after only three days in the seventeenth century? And how could all those people stand around gawking when the brute slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes? Because he’s the laird, remember Caroline? He calls the shots. Well, he wasn’t her laird and if he thought she’d remain, docile while he went all caveman on her…he was in for the shock of his life.

  “What do you think you’re doing, Ian? Put me down this minute!” Her protest earned her a roar of laughter from the bystanders, and caused whatever blood was left in the lower half of her body to start boiling.

  When Ian didn’t respond, she struggled to loosen the tight grasp he had across her thighs. She pushed with her hands and twisted wildly, but his hold remained firm. The situation was temporarily forgotten when the warm glow of torchlights were swallowed by darkness. The change in lighting was all it took for her to go into panic mode. Caroline felt them ascend the narrow flight of stairs toward the family apartments above. Fresh images of her humiliation played over in her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut. With her fist closed, she lashed at his back, and kicked with her legs. He bestowed a firm smack upon her to her backside for her efforts.

  She stilled. Too shocked to be affronted. A heartbeat later, it sunk in, and her frustration could not be contained. “Did you spank me? How dare you?” His hold loosened while she continued her rant. Caroline didn’t even notice she slid down the hard length of his body and stood pressed against the wide expanse of his chest until she landed upon her feet. However, it didn’t stop her from voicing her thoughts. With her hands splayed on him, she craned her neck to look up at his brooding visage. “Do you realize what everyone is going think? And what is the big idea of spank…”

  Whatever she was going to say was lost when Ian covered her mouth with his own. He trailed his tongue along her lower lip, and she opened. She could taste the smoky flavor of whisky upon his lips as he deepened the kiss. One of his hands remained at the small of her back, the other trailed alongside her ribcage heating her flesh in its wake. Her breath hitched when he cupped one of her breasts into his large hand, and gently clasped it.

  A whimper passed her lips when he broke the kiss. “Aye. Tis as I expected them to think.” No longer was there anger in his glare, but hunger. She swallowed. Her legs weakened at the onslaught of heat spreading throughout her abdomen…and lower.

  Without a thought, he effortlessly lifted her into his arms, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. In a low voice he spoke. “Every man has his limits, lass. Ye have stretched mine beyond measure this night.”

  “What are you going to do?” Her voice was shaky from her own need, and a bit of curiosity.

  “Do? What I should have done three days ago, Caroline. Ye are mine, and I will not have that challenged. Ever.”

  His foot shifted. A loud slam reverberated throughout the room. The rattling of porcelain rang out from the darkness of the chamber, as he slammed the door closed with his boot. Through hooded eyes, she saw the amber glow that filtered from the corridor vanish. Once her eyes adjusted, she saw they weren’t in complete darkness. A low burning light of the fire penetrated the room and filled it with warmth. In three strides, they were at the oversized bed. Ian’s bed. The scent of leather and pine lingered in the air and on the coverlet. The fragrance embraced and pushed all thoughts from her mind. It was just them. She and Ian.

  With a gentleness no man his size should possess, he laid her upon the dark green-colored counterpane. When he didn’t follow, Caroline tugged at the front of his tunic afraid he was leaving her alone in the unfamiliar room. Her reaction nearly toppled him onto the bed. Not wanting to crush her beneath his weight, Ian caught his large frame from falling upon her tiny frame, and caused the ropes beneath the heather-filled mattress to creak.

  He removed her hands and placed a kiss on the inside of each wrist. “I am not leaving, lass. I only wish to light a candle or two.”

  The shadow of the candle’s flame danced over Caroline’s exposed shoulders. Ian’s breath caught, as his gazed fastened on the tops of her breast peeking out from beneath the light blue bodice. His cock twitched at their milky perfection. It took every ounce of his control not to toss up her skirts and plunge deep inside of her. He closed his eyes and willed himself to go slow for her sake. When he opened his eyes she stared back at him with her lips parted, and the desire in her gaze masked his own. Slowly, Ian lowered himself down upon her and buried his face into the crook of her neck. With a few well-placed nips and kisses upon her neck, he could feel Caroline’s lithe body shift beneath him. When his mouth moved over her chest, she released a moan. With a few pulls at the laces of her bodice, he freed her breasts. Watching her rose-colored nipples, pebble beneath his gaze caused him to groan.

  Color rose up her neck and cheeks. She started to turn her head from him. Using his thumb and forefinger beneath her chin, he turned her face back to look at him.

  “Do not turn from me, lass.” Her eyes remained lower. “Look at me, Caroline.”

  Slowly her eyes rose, to meet his questioning stare. “Ye are troubled, Mo Ghraidh.”

  Her eyes shifted downward. “Noooo.” She picked up the laces by her side and began entwine them around a finger. He lifted a brow. He didn’t believe her.

  She quickly changed her response. “Yes.”

  As she brought her hands up to cover herself, he pulled them away. “Nay, do no’ hide from me. I have tried to do the honorable thing.”

  “Honorable? You’ve avoided me?” Her words lacked confidence.

  “Nay, I have no’. There was plenty to put to rights from my absence. Though I found that, even when ye were not present my every thought drifts back to ye.” A low chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I am not even abed, and ye still haunt my dreams.”

  As he confessed, her arms relaxed and fell to her side. He sucked in a breath as his eyes poured over the pure perfection of her exposed breasts. The sight caused his cock to lengthen beneath his plaid.

  “You weren’t disappointed…earlier. You stared and didn’t say anything. I thought…”

  “Disappointed? Ye could entice a eunuch, Caroline.” He lowered his head and caught the taut peak of her breast in his mouth. Her body arched and pressed into him as he suckled and nipped at the sensitive bud.

  “Ohhhhhh!” The sound filled the small space between them.

  He gave her other breast equal time. Using his free hand, he moved down the length of her body and felt Caroline wriggle at his touch. There were entirely too many layers of clothes between them. When he raised the hem of her skirt to her thighs, her legs parted in invitation. His hands grazed above her womanhood. “Ian, please…” She placed a hand upon his chest, still covered by the thin white tunic he had worn to the evening meal. “I…I want to touch you too.” Her hand lowered to his waist, and dangerously close to the tip of his shaft. The edge of his shirt slipped from the waist of his plaid. A moment later, her hands were under the fabric, as her fingers ran through the thick mat of hair upon his chest. The tip of her finger passed over one of his nipples, he growled and grounded his hips into her thigh.

  “I am afraid if I do not have ye soon, that ye will unman me, Caroline.”

  Her nervous, small voice came. “If you mean you want to make love to me, that…that’s what I want too.” She looked away.

  He clasped her chin and turned it back. A second later, he plundered her mouth, and she reciprocated. With skilled hands, he peeled away each layer of fabric desperate to lay his eyes upon the treasure that lay hidden from his view. Her skirts and corset were in a disarray around the tiny chamber.

  Standing over her, Ian could feel the heat of her stare upon him, as he released the clasp of his belt, and let the red, black and green tartan fall to the floor. A smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth, as she took in the length of his manhood. He enjoyed her shock…and admiration. “Do I meet with your approval, Caroline?”

  She nodded her head, and her eyes never wa
vered from his swollen shaft.

  Taking a step forward, he grasped the hem of the thin fabric. “I will try not to hurt ye, but there may be a bit of pain the first time.”

  Slowly he raised the thin fabric. She trembled, as he nibbled along the sensitive skin of her leg. His lips hovered under her breast when a hammering fist shook the door of the chamber, and shattered the intimate moment.

  Agitated, he leapt from the bed. The muscles in his shoulders and chest undulated with tension. He ran a hand down his face and shouted. “Whoever is on the other side of that door is a dead man!”

  Still bare, Ian stalked to the door. Before he opened it, he looked back at Caroline. She looked so small sitting in the midst of the large bed. Jesu, what had he nearly done? Had he not vowed to himself to be honorable. She was no ordinary wench, in which to slake his lust upon. This was Caroline. The woman ye swore to protect, not ravish. Can ye not even control your urges for a moment. “Cover yourself, lass. I would not have my men ogling ye.” When she slipped beneath the sheets, he opened the door a crack. Through clenched teeth, he spoke. “Seamus.” He acknowledged. “This better be important.”

  The other man swallowed hard, as his neck and cheeks turned crimson. “Aye, m’laird. Coll and Nate have returned, and have brought news of the earl. Calum is already in your study and he bid me to retrieve ye.” The captain of his guard blushed and then he finished. “No matter what.”

  After the disrupting scene in the great hall earlier, all knew what he intended this night. Even if the deed had not transpired between him and Caroline, his clan would think otherwise. It was clear their relationship had shifted in the last half hour. However, he could not correct the situation until he settled matters with Argyll.

  Once Archibald Campbell was no longer a threat to Moy, and his clan…they would marry. Had that not been his intention all along? He was certain it was in Mo Daol’s plan. Now all he had to do was avoid a war with one of the most influential nobles in all of Scotland, and England’s king. A simple enough task for a MacLaine, who’s lineage could be found as far back as the legendary Land of the Giants.