***
He held her for over an hour before she finally fell asleep, he simply held her in his arms. He knew she was exhausted from their short jaunt outside. He had noticed when her emotions rose, it drained her of energy. Her road to recovery would be lengthy and frustrating for a woman such as she. Finally pulling himself away tucking her in and leaving the hounds with her, he went in search of his brother.
Broderick’s thoughts were of her all day; he kept replaying their kiss behind the stable and the way she felt in his arms. God he had missed lying next to her this past week, sheer determination had kept him out of that bed night after night. Now that he tasted her sweet lips, how could he resist her siren call? Especially now that he knew she wanted him beside her? Even he couldn’t be that strong forever, he was only a man and she was a breathtaking woman, both inside and out.
By afternoon many of the clan had heard news of the stunning Drummond survivor who appeared holding hands with him this morning, by later afternoon all knew her name. His clan erupted with pride and happiness knowing The Warrior Queen of Scotland has survived. Even more amusing was how accurately his people saw what she meant to him, even before he was able to vocally admit it. He announced that Elisabeth was happy to attend the wedding tonight, and urged his people to be easy on her, she was still recovering.
The MacMillan people cheered with excitement, weddings were a joyous occasion at the castle, the addition of Elisabeth, The Warrior Queen of Scotland as a guest had the entire clan running around in exuberance and glee.
Chapter 5
Elisabeth woke to the sound of Old Rhona humming as she laid something over the chair in the room; reaching out for Broderick she could tell he had long been gone, as were the dogs. Sitting up slowly, she took a deep breath and thought of the joyful festivity the clan was preparing to celebrate. She was elated at the idea of an evening wedding; the food and music would do her good. She had been staring at these stone walls of this room for far too long, she longed to talk to people and dance. Dancing was one of her guilty pleasures, something her brother Duncan had always teased her about. The idea of spending the evening with Broderick’s clan made her giddy, she needed to engage her mind and body. Albeit a beautiful room, sitting in this room was slowly driving her batty.
“I let yer hounds out love, I think they needed to relieve themselves outside. How are ye feeling my sweet? I heard ye convinced Laird Broderick to take you outside today! How does your shoulder feel?” The sweet white haired Rhona asked as he walked over to her.
Rubbing her sleepy eyes, she yawned as she replied to the sweet elder, “Shoulder is sore, little Isobel hugged me with a little too much vigor this morning, dear thing.”
Chuckling, “Isobel has talked of nothing else but meeting you today, you’ve made a friend! Come; let’s get you prepared for the banquet my dear, the clan is anxious to meet you! I hope you rested, these celebrations usually go well into the night!”
Following Rhona across the room to the chair, she saw the exquisite dress Rhona had delivered, “Oh Rhona,” running her hands over the soft green dress, “Tis beautiful, is this for me?” She asked with delight, looking at the elderly woman.
“Aye my dear, do ye like it? I’ve been working on it for ye.”
Nodding in appreciation, Elisabeth had tears of joy in her eyes, Rhona was so thoughtful, wiping away her tears, “Aye Rhona, tis the most beautiful gown I’ve ever seen!”
“Lets get you bathed and ready for tonight my dear, I cannae wait until Broderick sees you after we are finished!” Motioning to a steaming bath in the corner, she winked.
Hours later she was dressed in the beautiful green gown, the gold Celtic knots stitched along the sleeves and hem of the gown were flawless. The silk gown was high enough to conceal her injury, yet it dipped enticingly low down her back. It was unlike anything Elisabeth had ever worn, she felt like royalty. Rhona’s skill was unmatched.
Sitting as commanded, she sat patiently while Old Rhona finished working her magic on her long tresses. The two women were chatting about the night when Conn and Isla nudged the door open and walked over to Elisabeth’s side.
“Hello my pets,” giving each dog a rub on the head before they lay at her feet, knowing if they had arrived, their master wasn’t far behind, she smiled in anticipation.
“All finished lass, I’ll see you downstairs tonight! You look radiant my dear,” Rhona offered as she gave Elisabeth a quick kiss on the temple exited the room with a wink.
“Thank you Rhona, I look forward to it,” waving to the elder as she disappeared down the circular stone stairs, the door close behind her.
Sitting in the chair where Broderick had slept the past week, she closed her eyes and focused on the teachings of her mother. Elisabeth was a warrior yes, but her mother had also required her to spend just as much time learning how to run a household, how to set an example to the clan women and children. She had taught Elisabeth the art of conversation at banquets and celebrations. She had been taught well enough to pour tea for the King of England, or fight at his side. Her skills were flawless in the battlefield and before any royalty she might encounter. Elisabeth had been taught how to be a queen.
Hearing his footsteps as he approached, she smiled as she stood up and turned to face the door. She was dressed to dazzle him, and his clan. He had yet to see her fully dressed as the lady she was, she couldn’t wait to see his reaction to her in all her glory. Without being vain, she knew this was the best she had ever looked while living at MacMillan castle, perhaps in her entire life.
Standing by the fire she watched him enter his room, he had bathed and dressed elsewhere. His formal tartan and clothing were immaculate, he looked every inch the powerful warrior laird he really was. The look he gave her made her weak in her knees, biting her lip, she waited for him to speak.
***
The moment Broderick laid his eyes on her he wanted to shut the door behind him and ignore the wedding and celebration completely. He was honest this morning when he said he had kept his distance for a reason. She was temptation incarnate. Her beautiful red hair was pulled up in a stunning crown on her head, showcasing her dazzling eyes and perfect face.
The dress she wore was cut high to conceal her injured shoulder and chest, yet it hugged her curvy frame with the exotic silk. He knew what lay underneath the green silk, it had made his blood boil knowing what she looked like naked. All he could do was stand in the doorway and star at the vision before him. He knew she was beautiful, but by all that was holy, he had no idea she could outshine the most illustrious courtesan of the royal courts.
Before him she did a slow spin so he could take in the entire dress, the moment his eyes laid upon the back of the gown he wanted to rip it off her with his teeth.
Shutting the large wooden door closed with one hand, he walked over to her with wanting determination. Wrapping one hand around her silken hip the other captured her jaw tilting her head back as he took her honeyed mouth in a deep passionate kiss before releasing her mouth, “My God Elisabeth, you are radiant. How have you escaped marriage this long my love? How has some warrior not captured your heart or your hand, I dinnae understand.”
Still holding her close he waited for her answer, feeling her breasts rise and fall against his chest made it hard to conceal his desire. He wanted her, desperately.
“I won a wager with my father over the right to allow me to choose my own husband. I had never met a man I’m willing to lay down my sword for, no man worthy of handing my life over to.”
“Of course you would bet yer Da on something like that,” chuckling, “come over here with me, I have something for you lass,” smiling, he reluctantly let go of her and walked over to his wardrobe and opened a large drawer, “I know ye well enough now to know you’d like to have this for tonight,” turning around he held a intricately scrolled dagger in his large hands.
***
Stepping forward she softly took the golden dagger from his hands and unshea
thed it, testing its weight in her hand. Looking up at Broderick she grinned before she placed the dagger back in the sheath and attached it to her side, smiling with pride.
Raising her head slowly she looked up into Broderick’s lush green eyes and her heart melted, stepping into him she pulled on his tartan that ran across his chest, bringing his gorgeous face down to her. Feeling his strong arms wrap around her naked lower back she leaned in and kissed the laird with every bit of emotion she had felt, for so long she had held back any emotion equated with being a woman. When she was next to Broderick she had little choice, he pulled emotions out of her soul she never knew existed.
Letting go of his plaid, she softly pulled away and caught eyes with Broderick when he refused to let go of his hold of her hips, “Thank you Broderick, if feels wonderful to be armed again, tis a beautiful blade.”
***
Holding the goddess in his arms, he thought how fitting it would be if she had a crown on. She looked like a Scottish queen, nay, far more enticing and powerful. It was no longer a mystery to him why Kincaid had went to such lengths to secure her, she was far more intoxicating that any drink, more lethal than hemlock and more addictive than anything he’d ever known.
Winking at the beauty in his arms, he smiled as he slowly pulled his hands away from her, offering his leather braced arm, “My lady, shall we go watch two souls attach themselves to each other for all eternity in front of God and our clan? I hear there is a wonderful banquet with food and entertainment aplenty afterward, and ye might even see a dance or two if yer lucky lass.”
Wrapping her arm around his she smirked at his humor and nodded, “Aye Laird Broderick, lead the way, I am most excited!”
The wedding of Ian Macgregor and Claire Murray was held at the castle chapel just before nightfall, the entire clan had dressed their best and had packed into the large stone chapel.
Smiling to himself, Broderick knew it was due to the woman seated beside him. They had all come to get a look at the mysterious woman who had been healing in his room for weeks, The Warrior Queen of Scotland.
She had transfixed his people the moment she appeared in the keep this evening. She met each welcome with a smile and warmth he hadn’t seen since his mother was alive; she took time for each person as they welcomed her to Castle MacMillan. Her genuineness was clear as day; she stood tall next to him, gracious and kind. The onslaught of well wishes and respect they paid her was humbling, his people, it appeared were more than happy to see the beautiful lass on his arm. Many of the elder clan members certainly didn’t hesitate to say so quietly in his ear.
Sitting at the front of the chapel, Broderick escorted the lovely Elisabeth beside him the entire night, either on his arm, or placing a protective arm around her hip and resting his hand possessively at the small of her back. So easily they stood next to each other as a couple, he had taken notice of her exemplarily social skills, everyone had.
Out of the side of his eye he watched her during the wedding ceremony, her happiness for the couple radiated. He saw how hard she had prayed and sang with his clan, how earnest her emotions were. He marveled how she could take a man’s life on the battlefield and then tear up with joy at a wedding. How could she greet his people like a queen and conceal her obvious pain so easily? She was a marvel, she was magic.
***
Elisabeth had noticed the looks she received due Broderick’s possessiveness towards her tonight. His people had noticed, his men had noticed, she was met with overwhelming welcome and warmth. His people were genuinely happy to see her on Laird Broderick’s arm. Of course she had also been the recipient of several vile looks from hopeful young maidens who were obviously in love with their fine him, not to be unexpected. She was positive she had met no finer man than Broderick; he could make a nun swoon. Of course there would be women falling at his feet. The thought made her irritated.
Growing uncomfortable at the eyes on her, she had tried several attempts to distance herself from Broderick. Each attempt was expertly countered; he kept her at his side all night. He needed to touch her in some fashion; if she got too far away he would simply move closer. Usually such possessiveness would irritate her, yet she couldn’t be mad at him, she simply smiled and pretended she didn’t notice how he hovered.
The wedding had been inspiring, just what her heart needed. In this desperate time, she needed to be reminded of love, of vows and of the future. She refused to let her heart harden, seeing Isobel, seeing the young couple before her promise their lives to each other gave her hope.
Once the wedding was over the mass of people moved to the keep, where the banquet was set up, a small group of musicians played in the corner as everyone found a seat.
***
Broderick had never felt more powerful than when she walked beside him, it was as if he felt he could conquer the world. She was his equal; he had never met another woman he’d be more willing to follow into battle, or bed.
Broderick helped Elisabeth be seated to his right, a place normally reserved for the wife of the laird, a chair that had been empty for over ten years. His brother had taken the seat across from her; he smiled at Broderick with a knowing look as he watched him tuck her in. The brothers had never seen another woman sit in their mother’s chair, nor had any member of the clan. It was widely known the chair of the boys’ deceased mother always stayed empty. The clan took notice.
The sight of Elisabeth regally smiling and waving to his people as they sat at the head of the table pleased Broderick; his mother would have loved Elisabeth.
“What do ye think of my people Elisabeth?” He asked, leaning forward so only she and Kendrix could hear him.
Turning to address him, “Ye should be proud Broderick, I’ve never experienced such genuine warmth and welcome before.” Smiling brightly.
Kendrix leaned forward too, “Wait till ye taste the wedding feast Elisabeth, ye may never want to leave this castle again lass! Oh and the music, I hope ye like dancing lass, our people dance!” He teased in earnest.
***
Chuckling she watched as dish after dish came out of the kitchens, honey mead flowed freely, tankers clanked and the MacMillan people celebrated. Conversation flowed freely, Kendrix and Broderick kept her well entertained with their stories from their youth. She had never laughed harder, the brothers were a joy to be around. She ate until she was sure she couldn’t eat another thing. The mead tasted like ambrosia, she felt a delightful tingle in her face after her third goblet.
She watched as couple after couple made their way to the large open area of the keep where people were starting to dance.
From his chair, Kendrix had noticed Elisabeth her bouncing her feet and clapping along to the music. She smiled at passing dancers with happiness while she drank her mead and became rosy cheeked. Rolling his eyes to the sky, he had given up on his older brother, the lass needed to dance. He had waited long enough for Broderick to make his move, annoyed at his older brother, he knew just want to do.
Just as the musicians started a new tune Kendrix stood up and offered his hand to Elisabeth, “Would you care to dance Elisabeth?”
Smiling with joy she looked up at him, “I would be honored Kendrix, I love to dance!” Taking his hand she allowed him to help her from her seat.
The two walked away from the table without a backwards glance to Broderick, quickly joining the dozens of dancers floating around the room.
Elisabeth was so thankful that Kendrix asked her to dance; she had a great affinity with music, she had patiently been waiting for Broderick to ask her to dance.
Holding Kendrix’s strong arms, he swept her into the quick paced dance with ease, twirling her around; a laugh escaped her lips as she circled around the room. She had missed dancing and music; she forgot how much happiness it brought her.
Forgetting her troubles, she got lost in the music and enjoyed her dance with Kendrix. He was an excellent dancing partner; he made her laugh and never once stepped on her toes.
Kendrix kept her out on the dance floor for over three songs, by the end of the third; her face felt like it was going to split from smiling and laughing so much. Kendrix and the surrounding dancers had been an absolute delight; it was exactly what she needed.
Several times she caught Broderick’s eye as he conversed with others at the table, she had been tempted to stick out her tonged at him like a child. There were things about the man she still didn’t understand; he was an enigma, a puzzle. He kissed her with so much passion, yet he could tell he didn’t truly trust her. She knew he had his reasons, but it hurt. He had been so possessive tonight, yet, he had not asked her to dance. Maybe he wasn’t a dancer she mused as she finished dancing with Kendrix.
“I need a drink Kendrix.” She stated breathlessly after the third dance had ended.
“Come, let’s take you back to the brooding wolf, maybe he’ll finally ask ye to dance?” He joked as they approached the table where Broderick sat.
Sliding into her seat with a happy sigh, she drank deeply from her cup in appreciation. This was the most activity she had gotten in weeks; it felt incredible, and tiring. Beside her, she heard Kendrix cry off.
“I bid you ado Elisabeth, I must seek out my next dance partner for the evening.” Bowing to her, Kendrix winked as he walked away.
***
Broderick couldn’t take his eyes off her all night, “Ye are a skilled dancer as well? Is there anything ye can’t do Elisabeth?” He asked, smiling at the angel at his right. The few kisses they had shared had sparked a desire he didn’t know existed. He had watched her dance with his brother, jealousy had coursed through his veins, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in many years. A feeling he did not like at all.
“I have yet to find anything I cannae master.” She smirked as she finished off her goblet of mead, giggling into the cup.
Holding out his hand, “Dance with me my love,” he whispered so only she could hear.
Branded By a Warrior Page 8
