Looking past her with a frown, Aileanna asked, “Is Lachlan ill?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Evangeline glanced over her shoulder. Now that Aileanna mentioned it, he did appear unwell. His typically sun-bronzed complexion had turned a sickly gray and he was rubbing his chest as though it pained him.
She shrugged, returning her attention to Aileanna. “The three of them are drinking in the hall, perhaps he overindulged.” Which was highly likely, Evangeline thought, given his earlier remark.
A curse followed by a low moan came from one of the chambers on the second floor. Aileanna grimaced. “I can guarantee they’ll be well into their cups before the night is out. Syrena’s in labor.”
There were times when Evangeline found Aileanna’s choice of words bewildering, and this was one of them. “Labor?”
Aileanna patted her shoulder. “Sorry. She’s having her baby. Would you mind sitting with her for a while? I have to let Aidan know, and there are a few things I need to prepare for the delivery.”
“Um. Can’t Mrs. Mac sit with her?” Evangeline asked, knowing Dunvegan’s housekeeper was much better suited for the duty.
“Evangeline, what’s the matter? You’ve gone very pale all of a sudden.”
“I’m not good with babies. I wouldn’t want to—”
Aileanna laughed, waving off Evangeline’s excuse. “Don’t be silly, it will be hours before the baby arrives. Go on up. I won’t be long.”
“I won’t be long. It will be hours before she has the baby,” Evangeline mimicked Aileanna’s trilling voice as she stomped down the stairs. She stumbled and grabbed hold of the balustrade, thinking perhaps she’d had a little too much of the wine Mrs. Mac had used to revive her. She’d warned them. But had they listened? No, of course not. As Evangeline had never attended a birth before and she was now newly wed, they thought it important she do so.
Why in the name of Fae they thought it important she bear witness to her friend’s excruciating pain, her cursing and moaning, she’d never know. The memory of the blood and guck, followed by the arrival of first one slimy, squalling red-faced infant and then another made her shudder. And what was wrong with Syrena and Aileanna that they had to have two babies at a time? One was bad enough. And afterward, she’d had to listen to Aileanna, Mrs. Mac, and Syrena, oohing and ahhing over the babies and saying, they’re so beautiful.
She shuddered again. They weren’t. They looked like gnomes, wrinkly, bald, ugly gnomes.
Aidan, Rory, and Lachlan looked up when she tripped into the hall. She grabbed hold of Lachlan’s broad shoulder to steady herself. In an effort to rid herself of the images etched in her mind, she reached over and took his mug of ale. Taking a deep restorative swallow, she wiped a hand across her mouth. The three men gaped at her. “What?”she asked.
“Syrena? The baby? Sweet Christ, Evangeline, has somethin’ gone wrong?” Aidan asked, rising from his chair.
She grimaced. “Sorry.” The color left Aidan’s handsome face. She realized then he’d misunderstood her apology and held up her hand. “No. Syrena’s fine and the babies are ... fine. Healthy ... they’re healthy. You can go up now.” Her brain a little fuzzy, she’d forgotten offering to inform Aidan was how she’d made her escape.
About to sprint from the room, Aidan came to an abrupt halt by the chair Evangeline had slumped into. “Did ye say babies—as in two?”
She winced. She didn’t blame him for being upset. “Yes, I’m sorry, there are two of them. And they’re both girls.” She cringed, thinking of the little hellions Olivia and Ava.
Aidan whooped his delight while Rory clapped a congratulatory slap to his shoulder. The two men strode from the hall, announcing the good news to a handful of servants who’d gathered by the doors.
A deep rumble of laughter came from Lachlan. She scowled at him. “It’s not funny. That was one of the most horrific experiences of my life.” She chugged back the ale in an effort to wipe the memory from her mind. He laughed all the harder.
“You wouldn’t think it so amusing had you been there.” She went to take another drink and realized she’d drained the mug. “I’ll have some more. Please.” Covering a hiccup behind her hand, she held out the mug with the other.
Chuckling still, he wiped his eyes. “I doona think ’tis a good idea, Evie. Ye doona drink and ye just drained a mug of ale faster than most men.”
She leaned toward him, feeling a little woozy when she did so. “I think we should go home.” She tried to hold up two fingers, then gave up. “There’s two more. That’s six of them now—six screaming, crying children. Well, no, Jamie and Alex are fine, but the other ones ...” She shuddered.
Two Lachlans leaned toward her. She closed one eye to bring him into focus. He grinned at her, his eyes all warm and crinkly, then took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. A wave of heat washed over her and she tugged at her robe, fanning herself. “Do you find it warm in the hall?”
“Aye, verra warm,” he murmured as he trailed kisses from her palm to her wrist. “I wish we could go home, Evie, but I doona trust ye to transport us. I’m no’ sure where we’d end up.”
The muscles low in her belly clenched with the feel of his warm mouth on her sensitive skin. She squirmed in the chair. Her gaze drawn to his bent head, his golden hair gleaming in the torchlight, she reached out and stroked her fingers through the thick, silken waves. “Your hair is so pretty,” she murmured.
He chuckled into her palm, then nipped it. “Remind me to bring a jug of ale home with us.”
“Lachlan, bring a jug of ale home with us.”
He groaned. “Did ye eat today?”
She furrowed her brow, trying to search her befuddled brain for an answer. It took a moment to find it. “No. I was going to, and then I came to the hall and heard you say you wanted to take me to your bed. Then I met Aileanna on the stairs and she made me go and sit with Syrena. And she promised, she promised me Syrena wouldn’t have the baby and she did. Lachlan ... Lachlan, are you asleep?” she asked her husband, who rested his forehead on the table.
He shook his head then raised his gaze to her. “Nay, I—”
“Evangeline, Lachlan. Syrena wants to introduce you to your nieces,” Aileanna called down the stairs to them.
“Would you tell her to stop yelling in that manner, she’s going to awaken Ava and Olivia,” Evangeline said, shooting a disgruntled look in the direction of Aileanna’s voice. Noticing another mug, she reached for it.
“Oh, no, ye doona.” He grinned, closing his hand over hers. “Up ye come.”
“You go. I’ve seen them already. Once was enough, thank you.”
“If I have to go, so do ye.” He hauled her from the chair, wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.
“I must warn you, Lachlan,” she whispered, stumbling up the stairs. “They think ... they think the babies are beautiful, but they are not. You mustn’t hurt Syrena’s feelings, though, so just smile and nod as I did.”
“I will,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
She studied his chiseled profile. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Nay.”
She stopped him halfway up the stairs, squinting to see if he told the truth. As she did, a horrible thought came to her and she clutched the front of his tunic with both hands. “Lachlan, you must promise me that we will never have babies, ever,” she said desperately.
He cupped her face with his big hands. “I promise ye. No babies fer us. Ye ken, Evie, I think I love ye.”
Relieved, she patted his broad chest. “I love you, too.”
Evangeline gasped and they stared wide-eyed at each other. “Like,” they croaked in unison.
They made their way up several more steps to find Aidan and Rory leaning over the baluster, watching their clumsy approach. “I told ye,” Aidan elbowed his cousin with a laugh. “I win.”
“Nay, they have to be expectin’ in a month fer you to win,” Rory argued.
Evangeline fro
wned and nudged Lachlan. “What are they talking about?”
“Ignore them, Evie. They’re a pair of drunken fools,” he said. Scowling at the two men, he rubbed his chest.
“Lachlan, you look unwell. Are you in pain?”she asked, noting the color drain from his face.
“Too much ale is all. Come on.”
He tugged her after him. Her stomach lurched, the floor rising up to meet her. “Me, too. I think I’m going to be ill.”
“Aye, I ken how ye feel.”
A warm lush weight filled Lachlan’s hand. Silky strands tickled his chin, invading his senses with their soft feminine fragrance. His cock stirred to life, nudging the luxurious globes it nestled against. He wondered if Evangeline would welcome his attention. His throbbing erection certainly hoped so. It was the first time he’d slept beside her since they’d been wed. Her nights at Dunvegan had been spent curled in a chair by his cousin’s bed. And last eve, when she’d said she felt ill, it had not been in jest. He smiled when in reaction to his hand at her breast, her nipple furled into a tight bud beneath the sheer chemise Mrs. Mac had dressed her in after cleaning her up.
Evangeline had been out cold before her head hit the pillow. Lachlan hadn’t fared much better considering he was stretched out beside her fully clothed. It wasn’t like him to imbibe as he had done. He could blame it on his desire to keep his brother company while awaiting the birth of the bairns, but he knew it was his unrequited lust for the woman now in his bed that had done him in. Unable to resist the temptation of her body curved against his, he nudged the strap of her chemise off the delicate slope of her shoulder. Pressing his lips to the hollow at the base of her elegant neck, he nuzzled the satiny-smooth skin there.
She moaned then squirmed, trying his thinly stretched restraint. Her eyes fluttered and she released a pained groan, bringing her hand to her brow. Not exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for.
From beneath her long lashes, she slanted him a questioning look. “We’re not in the Enchanted Isles, are we?”
“Nay.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “But we can leave as soon as you’re ready. Uscias has been lookin’ after things long enough and I’m sure my family can manage to care fer Iain without ye.” At one time his desire to return to the Enchanted Isles would’ve surprised him. But not now; he wanted his wife to himself.
She raised her head to look down at herself and winced. Lachlan reluctantly slid his hand from her breast. “Thank you for seeing to me. I must apologize for my behavior. I don’t know what possessed me to indulge as I did.”
He chuckled. “There’s no need to apologize. Ye were verra entertainin’. As fer me seein’ to yer care, ’twould be Mrs. Mac who did so.” He skimmed his hand along the curve of her waist to her hip. “Although I would have, but I wasna in much better condition than ye were.”
She rolled to her back, eyes closed. “My head is pounding. Do you think it will stop soon?”
Lachlan couldn’t keep his gaze from her full breasts straining against the sheer white fabric of her chemise, the tantalizing shadow of her nipples. “Aye.” He hoped it would. Placing his palm on her flat belly, he asked, “Ye’re no longer feelin’ ill, are ye?”
She shifted, her hip bumping his straining erection. “No, it’s just my head.”
“Mine aches, too.” And no’ the one she referred to. Fingers splayed, he moved his thumb back and forth over her taut belly, so close to her womanhood he could feel the silken curls beneath the thin fabric. The muscles in her belly quivered and ever so slightly she raised her hips.
“I ken what would make us both feel better, Evie.” He brought his hand to where the chemise bunched at her thighs, revealing long, shapely legs he wanted to feel wrapped around his waist.
“You do?”
“Aye, I do,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “Let me take care of ye, like I couldna last eve,” he murmured against her lips, caressing the inside of her velvety smooth thigh.
Her heavy-lidded gaze met his, her cheeks flushed. “You want to ...”
“Oh, aye, I want to verra much.” He teased her lips apart with his tongue, delving inside her warm mouth. The tentative touch of her tongue in return severed the last of his control.
“Uncle Lachlan, Auntie Syrena’s da wishes to speak to you and Auntie Evie,” Jamie yelled through the door.
Groaning, Lachlan buried his face in her breasts. Breasts he’d hoped to be touching, sucking, and licking in the next few moments. He lifted his head. Noting the look of concern upon her face, he sighed. “Evangeline, ye’re my wife. Rohan willna be fashed we’re sharin’ our chambers, he’ll expect it of us.”
She nibbled her bottom lip as he’d noted her do so often when she was worried. Her gaze flicked to his. “No, it’s not that which concerns me. I’m certain he now knows what happened to Iain and the part I played. As well, I have been using my magick here at Dunvegan, which as you know is frowned upon.” She rose awkwardly from the bed. With a flick of her fingers, the sheer chemise he’d grown fond of vanished to be replaced by resplendent amethyst robes.
That’s what he got fer marryin’ a wizard. She could dress without him gettin’ even a glimpse of her perfect naked body. He promised himself that would soon change. “Ye’re my wife, therefore under my protection and my control. Whatever Rohan has to say, he can say to me.” He stood, combing his fingers through his hair and straightening his tunic. With a surreptitious glance at the front of his trews, he deemed himself presentable.
He offered her his arm, frowning at the stubborn set of her chin and the indignant press of her lips. “What now?”
“I hardly need your protection, and as queen of the Enchanted Isles, I am most certainly not under your ... your control.”
She was the most exasperating woman he’d ever met. Here he was trying to soothe her worries and she acted as though he’d done her a disservice. He’d never used his height to intimidate anyone before but he did so now, towering over her. Somehow he had to put her in her place. “Aye, ye are, and the sooner ye realize it the better.”
“You said we were partners.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He’d said a lot of things, including that he loved her, which went to show how completely in his cups he’d been. They’d both been, he reminded himself since she’d said the same. “Nay, I said there are some responsibilities I’d give over to ye and then we’d take it from there.”
She tossed her glossy black mane over her shoulder and glared up at him. “You ...” She grimaced at the sound of Ava and Olivia calling for their mothers, barely discernible above the insistent wails of the newborns. “We will continue this at home.”
Aye, they would. Not the argument she seemed to be gearing up for, but as soon as the opportunity to get her alone and into his bed presented itself, he would do so. In his experience, making love made a woman more malleable. He grinned at the thought; in his wife’s case, they would have to spend an inordinate amount of time in bed to achieve the desired outcome.
Chapter 19
Anxious to witness the downfall of the she-devil’s spawn, Morfessa hid within the shadows of ancient oaks beside the palace’s stables. Rumor had it King Lachlan had come to his senses and denounced her as his wife. If he had not, surely when Rohan informed him of what she’d done to the Welsh king he would cast her aside. Perhaps banish her from the Fae realm altogether. Or, if the angels had answered Morfessa’s prayers, in a fit of anger her husband would smite her with his mighty sword. His heartbeat quickened at the thought.
Craning his neck, he tried to peer through the crowd gathered beyond the whitewashed building to watch Uscias and the warrior woman’s sister’s latest attempt to break the wards. He hoped they would not be successful. The simple retelling of the tale would not be as powerful an indictment as the king seeing for himself what she’d done. It was one of the reasons Morfessa had refrained from offering his help, although in some dark corner of his mind, he acknowledged her power had grown bey
ond anything he’d ever seen. More reason King Lachlan, for the Faes’ protection, must kill the bitch.
The conversational hum of the gathered nobility and servants rose. King Lachlan and his evil consort had arrived. With an impatient wave of his hand, Morfessa caused those who blocked his view to stumble out of the way.
Uscias’s arms dropped to his sides while Fallyn’s two sisters threw up theirs when they faced the queen. “How could you, Evangeline? Fallyn is your friend!” the woman named Shayla raged.
“I didn’t expect to be at Dunvegan as long as we were.” The queen crossed her arms. “Really, Shayla, you don’t have to look at me like that. I provided well for them. Someone had to intervene. It’s obvious they love each other. I simply ensured they had the opportunity to spend some time together to work out their differences.”
Shayla stamped her foot, her hands balled at her sides. “That is not for you to decide! You can’t go around locking—”
“Yes, I can,” the queen said mulishly.
Standing beside her with the noonday sun glinting off his golden hair, King Lachlan with his great height and the wide expanse of his shoulders was far more intimidating than even his father King Arwan had been. Morfessa rubbed his hands in eager anticipation, certain any moment now the king would strike her down. But instead, he threw back his head and laughed. Morfessa twitched with fury. A member of the ruling class had been imprisoned for days and the besotted fool laughed. He should’ve known better than to pin his hopes on a half-blood who was more highlander than Fae.
Morfessa shuddered when she smiled up at the king. Like her mother, she’d managed to enthrall the man with her beauty. The responsibility to rid the Fae realm of her evil now rested solely on Morfessa’s shoulders.
“Evangeline.” The king jerked his shadowed chin at the stables.
She shrugged then with hardly any effort at all lifted the wards—wards one of the most powerful wizards in the Fae realm had been trying to remove for the last two days. Morfessa wondered what his one-time friend would make of her magick. Surely it would cause Uscias as much concern as it did him. He shook his head in bewilderment at the look of admiration upon his old friend’s weathered face, a look reminiscent of a proud father. Morfessa’s hope that he could turn to Uscias with his concerns evaporated. Although he admitted it had been a faint hope. Their longtime friendship had ended the night he’d attempted to end Evangeline’s life. Another reason the she-devil’s spawn deserved to die.
King of the Isles Page 20
