“So be it, then,” Fin said. He pressed his lips together, but his eyes twinkled.
Will put his arm around Katy and she snuggled closer and heard Fin say, “Cat has Clydia with her, and Bridgett.”
“She also has the dogs and two of the men I left at Finlagh,” Malcolm said.
Lochan’s voice sounded behind them. “Did ye say ye can see Bridgett, sir?”
“Aye, and Rory,” Fin said.
Seeing the boy suddenly dart ahead of the others, Katy glanced up at Will.
He was watching Rory, who came to a stop when he reached Fin. “Lady Cat said tae tell ye she be glad tae see ye all safe and sound. She were worried about Lady Katy.” Then, spotting Will, he added, “If ye hadna made such a song about forbidding me tae follow her again, I’d ha’ likely made m’self more useful.”
“If you want to discuss that further with me,” Will said evenly, “we can do so as soon as we reach Finlagh.”
“Nae, we cannot,” Rory said. “Ye’ve got our Katy tae look after, yourself, now, ’cause ye be holding her a mite too close no tae ha’ Sir Fin’s leave for such.”
The others joined them then, and Catriona explained: “When we realized that Katy was nowhere to be found, I confess that I suspected she might have found some way to follow you to Raitt and run into trouble. We were coming only to discover if all was peaceful there or still unsettled.”
“And if it had been the latter?” Fin asked her.
She smiled and put a hand to his cheek. “Then, sir, I would have created a great tirrivee. Sithee, I also sent to Cawdor for Donald to meet us there. Never think, though, that I lacked faith in you, for I was confident that you and Malcolm would prevail. My uncertainty was for Katy and what might happen to her.”
“As you see, she is safe,” Fin said. “I have more to tell you about that, too, so we will not wait for Cawdor, and I will walk with you. The others can follow.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Lochan said. “I ha’ summat I mean tae say tae Bridgett, too. We can either go ahead o’ ye, or follow everyone, at your will, sir.”
Bridgett, beside Catriona, put her nose in the air and looked away.
Catriona smiled. “Do not beat her again, Lochan.”
Lochan’s mouth opened. “I never!”
“Unless she deserves it,” Fin said with a meaningful look at Catriona, who grinned saucily back at him. Watching them, Katy smiled, too.
His mouth still open, Lochan looked from Catriona to Fin.
As Fin gestured for him to go ahead with Bridgett, Katy felt Will’s arm tighten around her. Looking up at him again, she saw his teasing smile. “What?”
“Have you forgotten what your father said to me, little wife … earlier?”
Gaping much as Lochan had, she exclaimed, “You wouldn’t!”
“Nae, not straightaway.”
Katy breathed a sigh of relief.
“I want to hold you for a time and just feel you close to me, lass, so I’m for bed first, as soon as we reach Finlagh.”
Will had long thought he was a patient man, but when hoofbeats behind their party a half-hour later announced the arrival of Cawdor, Wilkin, and their men, telling him that the “first” thing on his mind would have to wait, his impatience stirred. Although the newcomers soon learned that their assistance was no longer required, they did demand explanations.
Fin’s was brief, but he assured Cawdor and Wilkin that he and Will would soon visit them and tell the whole tale. Lochan and Bridgett had disappeared by then, so Will urged Katy on as soon as he knew Cawdor would be departing.
The others soon caught up, and they all entered the castle together.
With a sympathetic smile, Catriona approached him. “I am so sorry about your sister, Will. Sithee, Fin told me everything that I did not already know, including that my impulsive daughter married you without warning. He also told Cawdor and Wilkin. Cawdor agrees with me that you should have a ceremony and has offered his chapel for the service and his chaplain to perform it. I told him I would relay that to you but that you might have other plans. You will likely want time to send for your granduncle and cousins, if you would like them to come.”
“I would like them to see us married in a kirk, mayhap even in Inverness, where Cawdor and my granduncle both have houses,” Will said. “But whether it should be at Cawdor or elsewhere, I should like to consider for a time.”
“Wilkin warned us that you might say something like that, and so did Fin, so that is what you must do,” Cat said. “But you must both be exhausted by now, and Bridgett has vanished with Lochan, so I sent Clydia and two maids up to clear Àdham and Fiona’s bedchamber for you. I also sent one of the lads to fetch hot water and take it up, so you can both wash or even have a bath if you like.”
“A wash will suffice,” Will said hoarsely. Having feared that she meant for them to wait for the ceremony, the news that she expected him to sleep with Katy affected him like an aphrodisiac.
Catriona nodded. “Then you should go straight up. Katy will show you the way. In the morning, you may break your fast whenever you like, for with all these men here, food is available whenever anyone wants it. Go now, though, before Fin or Malcolm thinks of something else he wants to discuss with you.”
Tempted to kiss her, Will gave her a brief hug instead and urged Katy toward the spiral stairway. After all the chaos and slaughter at Raitt that had resulted in Aly’s death, he could conceive of no better way to ease his sorrow than to hold his dearling Katy in his arms and consummate their marriage.
Clydia, meeting them on the stairs with two maids behind her, said, “You can tell me everything tomorrow, Katy.” Slipping by them with a touch of a hand to Katy’s and a warm smile for Will, she went on downstairs with her followers.
Relieved to have Katy all to himself at last, Will stood for a moment and just watched how the candlelight played on her face and gilded her hair.
“Do you want to wash first, or shall I?” Katy asked him.
“I think I will wash you thoroughly and put you to bed,” he said, still watching her closely. “Never fear, though, for I shall join you there right speedily.”
He could see that her body reacted instantly to his words, doubtless in ways she had not felt before, but she did not seem to be shocked or shy, merely intrigued.
“When you said that, I felt a thrill shoot right through me,” she said, reaching for her laces. “Can you make me feel that again?”
“Willingly, and, I hope, often,” he said, helping her out of the kirtle and the smock she wore under it. His notion of proper ablutions soon had her moaning and begging him to kiss her, so he wrapped her swiftly in a towel, dried her in a less leisurely way than he had washed her, scooped her up, and put her into the bed.
Tidying himself more hastily, he climbed in beside her.
He was a patient lover, and he found her to be a delightful partner: sensuous, delectable, and beguilingly responsive to his every touch. He liked being in charge, and although she was independent enough to challenge and stimulate him, in bed or out, he had come to recognize a certain vulnerability in her that would welcome his strength when she needed it.
Katy marveled at the sensations that Will stirred in her with every touch of his body or his hands, fingers, or lips. Any sensation she had felt before, or that Bridgett had described, seemed paltry by comparison with what Will was making her feel now. He was gentle with her and tender, though she knew he was also strong enough in mind and body to protect her from harm and her own foibles.
Her mother had warned her that one’s first lovemaking could be painful, but the thought simply made her smile as she tried to imagine Fin and Catriona doing what she and Will were doing.
“What makes you smile so?” he asked.
“Only that when Mam explained this, I could not begin to picture her so with my
father. But now—”
He chuckled. A few moments later, he said, “I think you are ready.”
“Mam said it might hurt.”
“I’ll be careful.”
“I know,” she said. Though he was capable of conquering her and had not hesitated to express disapproval from time to time, he had never tried to bully her or change her in any meaningful way.
Just then, he touched her in a way that stopped her thoughts and focused her attention wholly on what he was doing. The sensations now put even the earlier ones to shame until he entered her, but even then he was gentle.
Kissing her on the mouth, nose, and each eye afterward, he said, “I will teach you all the pleasurable things we can do, and I promise you that from now on, you will be learning to enjoy everything about this particular exercise.”
“Aye, Mam said the same.”
He started to get up.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the cloth. Just stay where you are.”
“But I—”
“Trust me, Katy.”
She lay back, watching him, marveling at his splendid, muscular body. When he had attended to himself, he rinsed the cloth, dumped the basin water into the sops bucket, and poured warm water into the basin.
When he returned, he said, “You have the most beautiful legs, lass.”
“How many have you seen?” she asked with a saucy grin.
“Not the thousands you seem to be imagining. I was referring only to ladies’ legs, though I am perhaps unwise to mention that. Nevertheless, I would ask you to spread yours a bit, so that I can make you tidy again.”
She stared at him for a long moment, but when he winked at her, she obeyed his request, and he taught her more quickly than she had anticipated that he did indeed have many more delights in store for her than she had imagined.
A short time later, he tossed the cloth into the basin and returned to the bed, standing beside it and looking down at her.
She scooted over. “Get back into bed, Will. Hurry, I’m getting cold.”
His eyes twinkling, he said, “Do you mean to call the tune now, my love?”
Amused, she said, “If it becomes necessary, sir, I think I just might.”
“Not, I hope, before you recall your father’s suggestion earlier tonight of the rights I have acquired as a result of your declaration.”
“You will not be so brutal, though,” she said confidently.
“Nae, so as I am one who believes in keeping the peace, I’m thinking the best solution for us both would be to stay in bed until that fortnight ends.”
She chuckled. “You are daft, sir.”
“I am, aye. I married a wife now known by all to take liberties with the truth and be gey disobedient.”
“I have not yet disobeyed you or lied to you, however.”
“Aye, ’tis true, mo chridhe, but I expect it will not be long before you do one or the other. Then, may Heaven help us both.”
With a gurgle of laughter at his so-falsely-woeful expression, Katy said, “You can always make me laugh, Will. I do love you so.”
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed The Kissing Stone. I based this story on the numerous versions of the legend of Raitt Castle’s ghost. Readers acquainted with that legend will note that I did not follow the exact script for the “handless” ghost’s death. However, the hangings, the seizure of Nairn, the prophecies, the total solar eclipse (including its likely corona), the lunar eclipse, the battle at Moigh, and the banquet all took place as noted. After the climactic event, Raitt remained uninhabited and is now a ruin. Details and dates in the many versions of the legend are sketchy or nonexistent, so the author’s imagination filled in the blanks.
Finlagh Castle did exist on its knoll, the site also of an ancient fortress but may have been a ruin at the time of this story. It was well placed for Fin of the Battles, though.
Malcolm, Chief of Clan Mackintosh and tenth Captain of Clan Chattan, lived until 1457 and was Constable of Inverness Castle until 1452 when he said he was “old and unable for public employment” and resigned the castle to a Crichton, a less successful custodian than the Mackintosh chief. Three years later, the Earl of Ross seized the castle.
Marriage by declaration in Scotland remained legal after the union of that country with England. The Marriage Act of 1939 also continued to allow marriage “by cohabitation and repute” (common law) to continue. Scotland became the last country in Europe to disallow such marriages, in 2006.
Those of you who know that the outflow of Loch Moigh runs into the river Findhorn may be interested to learn that, in 1433, the Findhorn was known as the river Erne, and the town was Invererne. The town moved two miles west of its original location, after high water in the Moray Firth caused a flood that nearly demolished it. Global warming in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries!
Those skeptical of a so-brief relationship resulting in marriage might like to know that my husband and I went out six nights in a row and got engaged on our next date two months later without seeing each other meantime (I was in California, he in Hawaii). When this book comes out, we’ll have been happily married for forty-seven years.
On our second date, I said, “Remember the other day when …” He said, “Hey, we just met last night.” We felt as if we’d known each other from childhood. Still do.
My sources for the Clan Chattan Confederation and Clan Mackintosh include The Confederation of Clan Chattan, Its Kith and Kin by Charles Fraser-Mackintosh of Drummond (Glasgow, 1898); The House and Clan of Mackintosh and of the Clan Chattan by Alexander Mackintosh Shaw (Moy Hall, n.d.); and many others.
Sources for Alexander, third Lord of the Isles, include The Clan Donald by Reverend A. MacDonald (Inverness, 1881); The House and Clan of Mackintosh; and “The History of the MacDonalds and the Lords of the Isles,” by Alexander Mackenzie, The Celtic Magazine (v. 5, April 1880).
Many of you will have recognized characters from my Scottish Knights series: Highland Master, Highland Hero, and Highland Lover. If not, those books are all still available in stores and online.
A special thanks to Bruce E. MacNab for another generous donation to the St. Andrews Society of Sacramento, which allowed him to become a squire in Reluctant Highlander and reappear in The Kissing Stone.
I also want to express my thanks to Bruce and Bridgett Locken again for their 2016 donations to the St. Andrews Society of Sacramento. Bridgett provided the author with some wonderful suggestions for their characters.
I am also more than grateful to swordsman and battle choreographer Brian Dake and his wife, Patricia (board member of the San Francisco Area RWA), for their assistance in “choreographing” Will’s swordsmanship at the Battle of Loch Moigh. These two have spent years as community fencing instructors and combat choreographers for local theater productions, including Macbeth, The Scarlet Pimpernel, and The Three Musketeers.
As always, I’d like to thank my long-suffering agents, Lucy Childs and Aaron Priest; as well as my amazing and insightful editor, Maggie Crawford; master copyeditor Sean Devlin; Editorial Director Philip Rappaport; Assistant Editor Annie Locke; cover designer Lesley Worrell; Senior Production Editor Megan Buckman, and everyone else at Open Road Integrated Media who contributed to this book.
I also extend a special thanks to all of you, my readers, who have so strongly supported my books over the years. You are brilliant and wonderful people. I love hearing from you, because I could not have done it without you.
Meantime, Suas Alba!
Amanda Scott
www.amandascottauthor.com
https://openroadmedia.com/contributor/amanda-scott
www.facebook.com/amandascottauthor
About the Author
A fourth-generation Californian of Scottish descent, Amanda Scott is the author of more than sixty romantic nove
ls, many of which appeared on the USA Today bestseller list. Her Scottish heritage and love of history (she received undergraduate and graduate degrees in history at Mills College and California State University, San Jose, respectively) inspired her to write historical fiction. Credited by Library Journal with starting the Scottish romance subgenre, Scott has also won acclaim for her sparkling Regency romances. She is the recipient of the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award (for Lord Abberley’s Nemesis, 1986) and the RT Book Reviews Career Achievement Award. She lives in central California with her husband.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2018 by Lynne Scott-Drennan
Cover design by Lesley Worrell
ISBN 978-1-5040-5082-1
Published in 2018 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
180 Maiden Lane
New York, NY 10038
www.openroadmedia.com
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