The Bedeviled Heart (The Highland Heather and Hearts Scottish Romance Series)

by Carmen Caine

  Kate stared, and then her brown eyes sparkled in challenge. “But ye didna ask me, Cameron. I may have said no! And I’ve told ye afore that my kisses canna be bought!”

  With his dark eyes filling with tender amusement, Cameron grasped both of her hands and slowly sank down on one knee before her. Looking deeply into her eyes, he spoke in a hushed tone. “Kate Ferguson, I died each day we were apart, and I cannot live through another sleepless night without ye by my side. I love ye with my entire heart and soul, ach, ye carry my heart in your hand, lass. I’m nothing without ye.”

  Kate’s nose wrinkled into a smile.

  But Cameron wasn’t finished. His eyes hardened. “And I swear I will protect ye, from destiny itself if need be. Never again will ye be caught in games of power. I’ll see ye safe from the evil designs of men—”

  “Thomas wasna your fault, Cameron,” Kate interrupted, patting him on the cheek and then added, “But ‘tis not the time to speak of him!”

  He winced a little but nodded in agreement. “Never again will I let ye out of my sight. I want nothing more than to walk by your side on this fair green Earth for the remainder of my days. Kate, will ye do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Scarcely able to believe her ears, Kate leaned down and rubbed her nose against his, replying breathlessly, “Aye, I’ll wed ye, ye lout!”

  With his lips curving into a smile, Cameron rose to his feet and swept her close once again, before turning to Julian. “Why didn’t ye tell me that Kate was here, lad?”

  “Cameron, I wasna certain myself!” Julian shook his head a little incredulously. “Ye led me on a merry chase, Kate. I’ve been searching for weeks. ‘Twas finally a fortnight ago that I teased a rumor from a lass near your old village, claiming ye to be Isobel’s kin. I rode with ye, Cameron, intending to ask Isobel in the hopes that it might be true, but I knew Ruan could help ye in any case. Edinburgh was fair slaughtering ye.”

  Cameron swallowed and wordlessly clasped the man’s shoulders.

  “Then ‘tis an occasion to celebrate!” Ruan clapped his hands before muttering to Lord Julian Gray, “Aye, and I’ll have an explanation of how this came to be. I’m fair mystified. I would know the story of this outlaw and thief.”

  And then everyone surrounded them at once, clambering for details and the latest tidings until Bree finally shooed them all away.

  “There will be time for talk later.” The Lady of Dunvegan smiled warmly before turning to Kate and Cameron. “Cameron, why don’t you take your bride out for a bit of fresh air and let us prepare for a celebration?”

  Cameron did not hesitate, and again, Kate felt the strange wave of shyness wash over her as he slipped his arm about her waist and guided her out of Dunvegan’s hall and into the sunlight. At the sea-gate, he gently lifted her into a waiting boat before jumping inside to row it himself the short distance to the shore.

  Watching him from under lowered lashes, she couldn’t help but admire the ripple of his muscles. Ach, his fine linen shirt was unbuttoned, open at the throat, revealing his collarbone. She swallowed. Never had she seen a brawnier man. How could he be her husband, her lawfully wedded husband?

  She fanned her reddening cheeks.

  And then she saw his dark eyes upon her, eyes filled with amusement but also with an answering gleam of desire.

  Blushing deeper, she cleared her throat and asked, “What of Mar? Is he well?”

  At once, Cameron flinched.

  Kate sighed.

  It was clear enough not all the news was good.

  The boat came ashore, and as he tenderly lifted her out, he began to share the details of what had happened.

  She listened in horror, and with fingers entwined, they slowly walked down a winding path. And when all of her questions had been asked and answered, they simply strolled in silence, listening to the comforting song of the birds and the bleating of nearby sheep.

  Arriving at the top of a hillock scarred with weather-beaten rocks, they paused to view the solemn grandeur of the moors spread out before them, covered in a rich, royal purple mantle of blooming heather.

  Reaching down, Cameron plucked a wildflower and playfully tucked it behind her ear. And then lowering his head, he pressed a kiss against her neck, and murmured, “Am I truly awake, lass?”

  Stepping into the circle of his arms, Kate leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. “I feel safe here, Cameron. I never want to leave.”

  His arms tightened, and his voice took on a fierce tone. “And I’ll see ye stay here forever, Kate, if it be your wish. I swear it.”

  They remained that way for some time, standing on the moors, and then Cameron slid a ring from his smallest finger and slipped it onto hers. “When we return to Edinburgh, I’ll have the goldsmiths craft ye whatever ye desire, my sweeting,” he promised, “But until then, wear this.”

  It was beautiful, a heavy, intricately carved gold ring housing a large dark red ruby.

  With her eyes sparkling in pleasure, she replied, “I’ve no need for another, Cameron. This is the bonniest ring that I’ve ever seen.”

  He began to laugh then, a soft sound of deep amusement. “My sweet Kate, ye are now one of the richest women in Scotland. Ye’ll have many rings, countless jewels, and—”

  “Ach, why would I need so much when I only have ten fingers, Cameron? I canna wear a ring on each one!” she interrupted, wrinkling her nose in a smile.

  Threading her fingers through his, she pulled him to a path leading down the face of the gentle slope and through a green wooded hollow of larch and pine. A small burn cut through their path, and as she made ready to step gingerly across, he caught her up in his strong arms and carried her over, setting her down gently on the opposite, grassy bank.

  The look in his eye made her heart pound, and then his lips descended to gently brush her cheek before sweeping down to plant a soft kiss on her swelling belly.

  With her eyes misting in tears, Kate tugged at his hand, pulling him through the springy turf, white with sandwort, to the edge of the sea.

  Steep basalt cliffs rose in the distance as she guided him along the beach where tidal pools of anemones lay nestled between big, black boulders and shattered bits of pink coral. Reaching a flat, wide shelf of rock overhanging the sea, she sat down upon a rock, kicked off her shoes and dipped her feet in the cool water.

  “Join me, ye lout,” she teased, patting the spot next to her. “Stay here and rest awhile.”

  With his chiseled lips curved into a smile, he did as she bid. His dark lashes lowering once more to sweep over the curve of her belly, and there was a smugness, a pride in his eyes that made her blush.

  As if aware of his intense gaze, the bairn shifted.

  “Feel your wee one, Cameron!” Kate grabbed his hand, pressing his palm against the soft flutter.

  His lips parted with wonder, and his tender look made Kate’s heart feel as if it would burst. Throwing her arms about him, she hugged him fiercely.

  And then, he caught her close to his heart, holding her tenderly, pulling her back against his chest and resting his chin on the top of her head. They sat there for some time, idly watching the white clouds race across the azure sky, casting fleeting shadows on the ground below.

  And it was only when the sun began its descent, catching a sail of a ship on the distant horizon that Kate stirred in his arms.

  “We should return afore Auntie Isobel starts fretting,” she said with reluctance.

  He didn’t move, but he laughed a little. “I’ve known Isobel my entire life. ‘Tis a strange twist of fate that I wed her niece,” he said softly.

  Reaching up, she ran her hands through his raven hair.

  Gently, he took her hands in his and rising to his feet, lifted her to hers before leaning down to kiss her with such tenderness and raw feeling that she could scarcely breathe. And then sliding his hand down to hers, they returned hand in hand to the castle perched on the edge of the sea.

  A lad was light
ing the torches in Dunvegan’s main hall when they arrived. Fresh garlands of flowers graced the walls, and the tables were laden with platters of venison and rowan berries, bannocks, smoked haddock, and game pie. The soft strains of a lute played as the clan members streamed into the hall to greet Cameron and Kate, and to offer their congratulations.

  And then Isobel appeared to slide her arm about Kate’s waist. “I’ll be stealing your bride for a wee bit, Cameron,” she announced with a proud smile.

  But Cameron drew Kate closer instead. “I do not wish to let her go, fair Isobel,” he teased lightly, but with a sober undercurrent in his tone. “I fear this is all a dream.”

  Patting his cheek, Kate slipped away, following Isobel down the passageway to where Bree awaited them in her private chambers.

  A fine gown of soft blue wool lay on the bed, along with a garland of heather and wildflowers. Ignoring her protests, Bree and Isobel soon had her dressed, and they then placed the wreath upon her head.

  Clasping Kate’s hands between her aged ones, Isobel’s eyes grew misty. “Ye look just like your dear mother, my wee Kate. ‘Tis proud I am to see ye.”

  At the mention of her mother, Kate gulped, and her own eyes began to tear.

  “Oh, you are such a beautiful bride, Kate!” Bree laughed, joining in the weeping to wipe her own tears away with the back of her hand. “Come, ‘tis time for the celebration!”

  They led her back to the hall, and as the pipers began to play, she stepped into the light amidst the cheers of the clan. And then Cameron was there, looking down at her with unmistakable pride to guide her to an honored seat at the laird’s table.

  Time passed quickly, and speeches were made as the food was served.

  Kate sat at Cameron’s side, charmed with his attentiveness as he insisted upon carving her the choicest cuts of meat, offering her the tastiest tidbits on the tip of his dagger.

  And then the dancing began, and as Kate’s feet began to tap under the table, Lord Julian Gray appeared before them.

  “My dear countess, my lord earl, I wish ye only happiness from this moment on,” he said, bowing low.

  “’Tis only because of ye that this day happened, lad.” Cameron rose to clap him on the back as Ruan appeared at the fair-haired lord’s side.

  “And ye, Julian?” Ruan asked with a curious brow. “’Tis time ye found a lass and wed yourself, lad.”

  At that, Julian tossed his head back and laughed. “There is not a lass that walks this Earth who can keep my interest for more than a month, Ruan, and well ye know it!”

  Ruan and Cameron exchanged amused looks, and then with a snort, the Laird of Dunvegan snagged his lady about the waist and twirled her into the circle of dancers.

  “We shall see what fate has in store for ye, Julian,” Cameron remarked lightly, before turning back to Kate. “Shall we dance afore ye wear out your slippers under the table, my sweeting?”

  With her eyes sparkling with pleasure, Kate sprang to her feet and slipping her hands into his, allowed him to sweep her away.

  The torches had long since burned down in their sconces when Kate finally stopped dancing and returned to the table to catch her breath.

  “If only my poor father were here,” she said wistfully as Cameron joined her side.

  “We’ll have another wedding in Edinburgh, my sweet,” he promised, his lips curving into a smile. “We can have as many as ye like. I’ll never tire of wedding ye.”

  And then taking her hand in his, he bowed to the merrymakers in the hall and led her away, amidst cheers and hooting laughter.

  “Ach, such fools!” Kate wrinkled her nose in a wry smile. “They’ve clearly gone mad if they canna see I’m over half gone in carrying your bairn!”

  He didn’t reply but merely followed as she led him up to her tower room.

  The first thing Kate noticed as she stepped into the small chamber was the clean smell of lavender, light and sweet. Lighted tapers graced the small writing desk, and garlands of flowers bedecked the bed. The window was open, and though the moon had not yet risen, the stars were bright enough to illuminate the dark shiny surface of the loch.

  Suddenly, she was shy once again, and then Cameron closed the door and swept her into his arms. He simply stood there, holding her close, before moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. Drawing her upon his knee, he looked into her eyes with a half-smile playing on his lips.

  Slowly, she reached up to twirl a strand of his hair around her fingers, but then she was suddenly nervous. “I’m not meant to be a countess, Cameron. Ye’ve made a mistake.”

  “There’s naught that could suit ye better, my sweeting.” The soft sound of his voice sent a sudden shiver down her spine.

  She closed her eyes. Aye, the deep, silken voice that she had so longed to hear would now ever be at her side. ‘Twas fair impossible to believe. Bashfully, she confessed, “I canna believe you’re mine to keep.”

  “’Tis I who cannot believe such a bonny, sprightly creature as ye will ever be mine,” he whispered softly, burying his face in her hair.

  She smiled, and then recalling her letter, slipped off his knee and opened the wooden chest next to the bed. With a rueful expression, she handed him the tortured parchment. “I tried writing ye a letter, Cameron. But I fear even I canna decipher the words anymore. Sir Arval will be right disappointed in me.”

  Cameron laughed in the deep rumbling tone that she had missed so much. “He’ll be so glad that ye’ve been found, Kate, that he’ll forgive ye anything.” Lightly, he traced the line of her jaw before sighing. His countenance suddenly darkened. “I fear I must return to the unruly kingdom of Scotland straightway on the morrow, to Edinburgh and the queen. But you will not have to see Thomas again. I no longer serve the king and his court.”

  “I’m coming with ye, then,” Kate said quickly. “Ye canna hie me off to some castle ever again. I won’t have it.”

  “Aye, I swear it, lass.” Breathing heavily, he clasped her to him. “I’ll never let ye go, Kate. Never. And I swear I’ll never allow any man to harm ye again.”

  She rested her head upon his chest a moment, simply enjoying the scent of him, before reaching up to pull his head down and kiss his soft, chiseled lips.

  The kiss was sweet, gentle, and filled with an unguarded tenderness.

  And then Cameron pulled back. Lifting a finger to stroke her cheek, he whispered in a tone that sent another shiver down her spine, “I love ye so much, Kate, that the mere thought of losing ye is a mortal wound to my very soul.”

  Her heart sang, but as his eyes darkened with passion, he smothered any words she might have said with another deep, soulful kiss.

  She melted against him, brushing her palms over his muscular chest and deepening the kiss. He moaned softly—or was that her? And then he shifted, his lips searing a path of fire on her skin. Shivering, she lifted his face to frame it with her hands and then kissed him with a kiss that ignited the fire of desire.

  With a low, rumbling groan, he pulled back. Again, she saw the passion raging in his eyes and she knew it mirrored her own, and then he gently fell back with her onto the bed. And as the moon rose in the balmy, summer night, they shared their fierce, surging love.

  Chapter Seventeen - The Countess

  Cameron woke with the sun. He had slept little. Not because of their tender, passionate lovemaking—after which Kate had promptly fallen asleep—but because deep in his heart, he harbored the fear he would wake to find it was all a dream.

  He lay as he was, cradling Kate in his arms and cherishing each moment, watching the circling birds through the window and listening to the seals barking in the distance. Never had he felt such a deep, abiding peace. He wished it would never end.

  Kate stirred in her sleep, moving her hand to rest lightly on her belly, and Cameron smiled.

  Slowly, and with deep reverence, he moved to kiss the soft curve, skimming his fingers over his unborn bairn in a light caress. The babe moved under his hand, and his e
yes misted with emotion. The great feeling of protectiveness that washed over him was beyond anything he had ever experienced.

  And then his peace disappeared with a single thought.

  Childbirth was a perilous venture.

  And his wee Kate was so small.

  He frowned. Surely, fate would spare her further misfortune. So far, her life with him had been a harsh and turbulent one. Wasn’t that enough?

  He fretted for a time until he noticed that her long, thick lashes had lifted and that her sparkling brown eyes were observing him with curiosity. “And why do ye look so grim, Cameron?” she asked.

  Sweeping her dark hair aside, he lowered his lips and kissed the nape of her neck, unable to confess his dark thoughts.

  But Kate’s sharp eyes had missed nothing. “Do ye still believe that ye are cursed?”

  He swallowed.

  She buried her face against his chest, and her thin shoulders began to shake.

  Alarmed, he attempted to push her back so that he might console her, but she only snuggled deeper, and he realized then that she was laughing.

  “Ach, Kate!” He sat up, annoyed but vastly relieved. “Ye fair frightened me!”

  Propping herself up on her elbow, she wrinkled her nose and made a face. “If it is a curse ye are worried over, fool, then save your fears!” Her dark eyes danced. “I am, after all, a witch. Curses mean naught to me!”

  Amazed that she could jest over the matter, he eyed her in wonder and then slowly returned her smile. Aye, life with her would be warm and real.

  She would make an exceptional countess.

  Fiercely, he caught her close, pressing her against his chest and burying his face in her hair.

  “Cameron, ye fear too much,” she whispered, rubbing her cheek against his chest. “I never dreamt I would be accused of witchcraft, nor did I dream I would wed the finest earl in Scotland. If such things are possible then none of us can know our future. Let us simply live and take joy in the day!”

  He nodded into her hair, knowing a small part of him would always fear he had cursed her, but he knew that he’d rather live with the fear than live without her.