When it was done, he distributed the uisge-beatha and they raised their glasses together.
“To Caitlin,” Lachlan said. “The sweetest bride in all the Highlands.”
MacInnes scoffed. “Bah, she’s a nasty one, she is.”
Darach clenched his jaw and breathed deeply. It took all his strength to stay on his side of the table. He raised his glass higher. “To justice. May deserving souls be rewarded and liars be hanged.”
* * *
“By the saints!” Caitlin screeched as Edina poked her with yet another pin. “I swear, if you do that one more time, I’ll…I’ll…”
Edina cocked her head, her mouth full of pins. “You’ll what?”
“I doona know, but I promise you willna like it.”
She rubbed at her hip, where the pin had pricked her. Darach would wonder at all the bruises on her body. The older woman shrugged and went back to work.
Caitlin stood on a stool in the middle of her chamber, surrounded by clan women adding the last touches to her wedding dress. Ever since Darach had left this morning, she’d been pinched, poked, bathed, primped, and fed. Now, hours later, her hair was curled and tied with ribbons, and the dress was almost complete. From outside, smells of roast fowl and suckling pig wafted from the kitchen.
“I doona know how you organized everything so quickly. Darach only offered to marry me yesterday, and I didn’t agree until this morning.”
“Nell and I started planning three days ago as soon, as Laird MacKenzie informed me of his intentions. I used the measurements we took when you first arrived to begin your dress.”
Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean, his intentions?”
“To marry you, of course. We had to keep it verra quiet. He didn’t declare for you formally till yesterday.”
Edina went back to work. When she poked Caitlin with another pin, she barely felt it. Darach had decided to marry her three days ago? “’Tis impossible. He was concussed.”
“Aye, which is why we waited, but ’twas actually before that, when he brought you back after your fall in the river. Although Oslow says Laird MacKenzie had decided to marry you when they were on patrol. He heard Darach and Laird MacKay talking about it.”
A lump formed in Caitlin’s throat. She couldn’t believe it. Darach had wanted to marry her before she’d been in danger. Maybe he did love her after all. It wasn’t simply for duty’s sake. “Did he say anything else?”
“About what?”
“About…I doona know… How he felt.”
Edina and the other women laughed. “Caitlin, men doona sit around talking about their feelings like women do. If they care for a lass, they show her.”
Caitlin scrunched her brow. What had Darach shown her? Certainly he’d protected her, risked his life and defied the King for her. He’d honored her enough to wait until they were married to claim her, and he’d forgiven her for digging up his bailey. That, more than anything, meant something.
“Do you think he cares for me?” she asked.
The women laughed again. Edina cut the last thread, knotted it, and lowered her hands. “He’s marrying you, isna he?” She stepped back and walked around Caitlin, tucking here and fluffing there. When she reached the front, she adjusted the amber brooch on Caitlin’s right shoulder. It matched the necklace between her breasts—two entwined silver hearts with amber in the middle. Gifts from Darach.
Edina arranged a ribbon in Caitlin’s hair, then nudged her under the chin and smiled. “And now, you’re ready to marry him.”
The women left shortly afterward with instructions for her to sit still and not touch her hair or dress. It was an impossible request, of course, and she walked to the window to see what was going on outside. A warm breeze caressed her skin as she leaned out. Vast numbers of people in colorful plaids and ribbons rushed around, preparing for the wedding. They called cheerfully to each other over the noise.
When Oslow arrived a few minutes later, nervous excitement surged through her. She took his arm in a tight grip at the door of her chamber. Pipes played below. She fidgeted in time to the music, enjoying the feel of the fine wool skirt against her legs. Never before had she worn such lovely garments. The blues and greens of the material accentuated her eyes, and her hair was actually curled.
’Twas a miracle.
She pulled a lock over her shoulder to admire it. Surely Darach would think she looked bonny—it had taken long to dress, but the results were well worth the pinpricks and pulled hair. She wanted to laugh but knew it might well turn into a fit.
She was marrying Darach. Today.
The sound of running feet came toward them, and Fergus barreled around the corner. He stopped abruptly when he saw Caitlin. “You look like a faery queen.”
The compliment pleased her, but to hear the little boy speak and see the light in his face was the real reward. He was such a dear and looked so sweet in his pressed lèine and plaid. A small sporran circled his waist and his hair lay neatly against his head.
“If I look like a queen, you must be my gallant knight.” Her voice broke, and she blinked, causing a tear to roll down her cheek.
“Och, doona start crying, lass.” Oslow quickly wiped the wetness away with a kerchief. “If your eyes are red and your cheeks blotchy, I’ll ne’er hear the end of it. Edina gave me strict instructions to keep you smiling.”
Caitlin giggled at the thought of Edina wagging her finger at Oslow. The MacKenzie men were tough on the outside but soft and sweet, like pudding, beneath—and she was about to marry one.
“I’m to tell you to come now. Everything’s ready.” Fergus danced around, unable to keep still. Caitlin understood how he felt, but her feet were suddenly glued to the floor, as her doubts about Darach’s willingness rose again.
Oslow tugged at her arm and somehow she followed him down the stairs and across the hall. When the door opened, she was momentarily blinded by sunlight. Then she saw Darach standing outside, on the top of the steps that led to the bailey. He was so big and handsome in his fine clothes, hair glinting red brown in the afternoon sun.
A smile creased his face as he looked her over from head to toe. “You’re a vision, lass.” Taking her free hand, he kissed it. “I’m a fortunate man.”
“Are you sure, because—”
“I’m sure. I’ve ne’er been more certain of anything in my life.”
“And you’ve forgiven me for digging up the bailey?” For some reason it was important to hear the words.
“Aye, Caitlin. Doona fash. I only wish the chapel was ready, so we could marry in a proper church.”
“All the world is God’s church,” Father Lundie said. “’Tis an honor to join you before your people.”
For the first time, she noticed the priest waiting on the step below them and the clan spread out in the bailey. Edina beamed up at her from the first row. Next to Darach, Lachlan grinned and winked at her.
After kissing her cheek, Oslow descended toward Edina and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They looked like proud parents. Caitlin’s chest tightened.
Darach squeezed her hand, pulled her close. She leaned into his side and gazed up at him. He brushed a kiss across her lips, causing the clan to cheer. Father Lundie cleared his throat, then began speaking in a solemn voice.
The ceremony washed over her in a blur. When Darach grasped both her hands to give her his vow, the tears broke free, streaming down her face as he pledged to love, comfort, honor, and keep her. His eyes held hers as he said the words, a tremor running through his voice. Her vows were similar, but she stumbled over her pledge to obey, praying God would forgive her ahead of time, for it was an impossible promise to keep. It’s not that she didn’t want to obey Darach, but surely God didn’t mean all the time.
Darach raised an eyebrow as if he could read her mind, and she flushed. Already she was proving to
be a terrible wife.
Before she knew it, Lachlan had given Darach the wedding rings. Father Lundie blessed them, and Darach placed one upon her finger. A satisfied smile crossed his face. When it was Caitlin’s turn, her hand shook so much she kept missing. Darach steadied her with his other hand, and she finally pushed the ring onto his finger.
They knelt, and the last prayers and blessings were said. Then Darach helped her up, pulled her close, and kissed her. Not briefly, like before, but a long, drugging kiss. One hand sank into her hair and the other wrapped around her waist. Caitlin’s knees weakened and her arms circled his neck. The blood pounded so loudly in her ears it drowned out the cheering crowd and rousing pipes.
“Darach?” she asked when he finally released her.
“Aye?”
“Will you look on me naked, now you’re my husband?”
The air gushed from his lungs. “’Tis a certainty, lass.”
“Then I shall look on you naked too.” She gently bit his ear. “The sooner the better.”
He laughed and scooped her up to carry her over the threshold into his keep.
The reception lasted several hours. Caitlin’s cheeks hurt from smiling, her stomach from laughing, and her feet from dancing. The food had been delicious, but she’d been too wound up to appreciate it, even though Darach had fed her the choicest morsels of pickled eel, smoked mutton, and suckling pig. Afterward, the floor had been cleared and they’d danced the first reel of the night. Since then, she’d barely sat down, going from partner to partner, until Darach had claimed her again and positioned her beside him at the table.
She reached for her mead and drank deeply. The fermented drink quenched her thirst and sweetened her tongue. When it was empty, she lowered the mug.
He wiped the moisture from her lips, then licked his thumb. “Mmmmm.”
She kissed him. “I canna believe you’re my husband.”
“Not quite.”
“What?”
“Husbands take their wives to bed. I havnae done that yet.” He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Or have I, you wee besom?”
A blush rose along her cheeks. Should she tell him the truth, or did he already know she’d told a falsehood? And what exactly had happened last night while she’d slept?
He kissed her neck and took her earlobe in his mouth. The sucking sensation drove every thought from her head. She shivered and tilted her chin to give him better access.
He nibbled along her collarbone. “I’ve been thinking upon our night together—the first time we made love, when I was ill. Since I doona remember, I’d verra much like you to tell me about it.”
Her eyes popped open and she scooted away from him. “What?”
“You heard me. ’Tis unfair for you to have such sweet memories while my mind is blank. I would like every detail.”
“But…’tis not decent.”
“Aye, it is. I’m your husband now. You can tell me anything.”
“Well…it was, it was…much the same as last night.”
“Last night?”
She lowered her voice and added, “When you were naked in my bed.”
Darach’s eyes widened. Then he snorted and dropped his head in his hands. His shoulders shook. Was he laughing, or had she upset him? She bit her lip, wondering what to do. Maybe he teased her, like her father had teased her mother.
When he raised his face, however, it was grave. “How was it the same as last night, sweetling?”
He didn’t look like he was jesting, so she tried to come up with a reasonable response. “Um, you were naked.”
“Aye, we’ve established that.”
“And you, well, you kissed me.”
His arm circled her hips and dragged her along the bench until she was snug against him. He leaned closer. “Where?”
“On my lips.”
He smiled against her cheek. “Anywhere else?”
It was as if a drug had entered her blood and compelled her to answer. “Maybe my breasts, like you did this morning.”
“Did you like that?” His thumb traced lazy patterns on her hip.
“Aye. Will you do it again?”
“Aye.” His other hand caressed her thigh. A tight, heavy feeling filled her center and her knees relaxed opened. His fingers moved higher along her leg under the table. “Close your eyes, Caitlin, and tell me where else I kissed you.”
The laughter, yells, and cheerful piping faded into the background. Her lids drifted shut as she thought about where else Darach might bestow a kiss. “My hand.”
“And?”
“My arm.”
The fingers on her hip brushed her belly. “How about your stomach? Would you like me to kiss you there? Or maybe your thigh?” His other hand squeezed close to the core of her womanhood. It felt hot and swollen, and she wanted to spread her legs all the way. “Tell me what else we did. How we made love.”
She imagined them on the bed linens, bodies entwined. “We lay together and you touched me all over. Then we coupled.”
“How? What did it look like?” His voice was rough and heavy, making the heat spread in her womb. A picture formed in her mind of the male entering the female. She’d seen the animals mating on the farm.
“Well, you were behind me and we joined.”
His breath, which had been loud and jagged in her ear moments ago, stopped. “From behind?”
She hesitated. Maybe that was wrong. “Aye?”
He groaned. “Christ Almighty.”
Her eyes popped open at the curse. “Darach!”
“Were you naked?” he asked, dragging her onto his lap.
“What?”
“When you imagined us making love, were you naked?”
Many of the clan were drunk, but some had noticed Darach’s amorous behavior and cheered him on. She was suddenly embarrassed. He held her too intimately in front of everyone.
He grasped her chin and made her look at him. “Caitlin, answer me.” His eyes had that wild, fervent look she loved, and she relented.
“Of course we were. Doona you know anything about coupling?”
A strangled laugh exploded from his throat. “More than you, and now I’m imagining you naked, on your knees, in the middle of our bed. You have no idea what you’ve done,” he growled.
“What do you mean?”
“I need to be in control tonight.”
“Why?”
He looped his arms around her and rose from the bench. “Because I doona want to hurt you when I take your innocence.”
Seventeen
“Everybody out!” Darach glared at the members of his clan crowding into his bedchamber. He tightened his arms around Caitlin for fear they’d start undressing her. It may be tradition, but it wasn’t going to happen to his wife—he’d be the only man seeing her naked.
Drunks, all of them.
Lachlan leaned against the wall by the window with his arm around his leman. Usually the lovers were more circumspect, but like everyone else tonight, they’d imbibed too much. She was an attractive, older woman whose husband had died and children were grown. No one thought ill of her; it was the way of the world. Darach had women he visited in his foster brothers’ clans as well.
Used to visit, he corrected. He was married now, and would have no need of other women. If he could get his wife alone.
He caught Lachlan’s eye. “You could bloody well help.”
Lachlan grinned. “I would ne’er presume to tell your clan what to do.”
Darach could barely hear him over the din, but he knew Lachlan was enjoying this too much to lend a hand.
Edina tugged on his sleeve. “Laird, I should speak to Caitlin alone before…well, you know.”
“Nay. She doesn’t need your counsel. I’ll tell her everything she needs to know.”
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Caitlin frowned and pinched his arm. “Doona be rude. If Edina wishes to speak to me, I’m happy to do so.”
His brow rose. “So she can tell you about lovemaking?”
Caitlin’s eyes widened and a flush covered her cheeks. She leaned toward Edina. “I must do as Darach says. He’s my husband. Maybe we can talk tomorrow.”
“But, Caitlin—”
“Would you have me disobey him?”
“Well, nay, but—”
“She’ll be all right,” Darach said with a finality that made Edina’s mouth flatten.
Caitlin cast him a grateful look. His frustration rose another notch. He wanted her grateful for more than just that. He wanted appreciation in her eyes after he’d touched her all over and she’d come apart in his arms. He wanted her cuddled against him, naked in the bed, before they fell asleep. He wanted her beside him in the morning when he woke.
Damn it, he wanted it all. Right now.
She let out a surprised squeak as he tossed her on the middle of the bed and leaped onto the foot of it. His head almost touched the ceiling. “Get out now, or I’ll throw the nearest person out the window!” He looked pointedly at Lachlan, who laughed. The rest of his clan, however, took his command seriously and backed toward the door.
Edina hovered nearby with her hands clasped. “I thought my husband might have a word with you, Laird. Explain about young women.” Oslow stood behind her, looking horrified.
“There are things you can do to—” She stopped abruptly when Darach jumped off the bed and marched toward her. Oslow grabbed her arm and pulled her from the room.
Darach slammed the door behind them, then turned to Lachlan and his leman. The woman clutched Lachlan’s waist in a death grip.
“Get out before I kill you,” Darach said. She squeaked and ran to the door. He opened it just far enough for her to pass through.
Lachlan grinned and sauntered toward Caitlin, who sat primly on the bed. “Are you all right, love? He didn’t hurt you tossing you about like that, did he?”
Highland Promise Page 21
