Heart Of A Highlander (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

by Emilia Ferguson

  In only a moment, she would see him.

  She heard her uncle, leading the party inside so they could be ready to welcome the returning men. She turned to Alina. Alina smiled at her.

  “Come on!” she said with a conspiratorial smile. “Let's go down.”

  They did.

  The great hall was laid out for a banquet. The tables were polished, the boards groaning under the weight of food. Amabel hardly noticed the gleaming candelabras, the shining benches, the fresh rushes strewn on the floor. All she noticed was the dais, where her uncle sat.

  Duncan was there, and Heath, his thin, clever face wreathed in smiles. Chrissie was already there, seated opposite him, glowing in pale linen and enthusiasm.

  Amabel held Alina's hand as they ascended the dais. She took the seat beside her uncle, Alina on his other side. Next to Duncan, Amabel noted, smiling.

  After a moment or two, her uncle banged on the boards of the table, signaling silence.

  “Our victorious troops have arrived!” he shouted with some flair.

  The rest of the men-at-arms exploded into cheering, clapping, banging on the boards.

  “Wel-come haim! Wel-come haim!”

  Welcome home. Welcome home.

  Broderick walked in. He looked up at her. He smiled. His eyes shone with a light Amabel had never seen there.

  She stood. Flouting custom and not even noticing she did it, she raised her silver cup.

  “Welcome home!”

  The whole hall exploded into cheers and whistles. Broderick strode the next paces to the dais, where he trotted up the stairs. He reached her and with one gesture took her in his arms.

  His lips on hers were hot and hungry, and Amabel felt her body melt, her soul fly.

  “I love you, Broderick MacConnaway,” she whispered into his ear. Her fingers stroked his hair while her other arm held him.

  “I love you, Amabel, my sweet. With all my heart. Now and forever.”

  He was crying, and he did not care. They were both crying, smiling laughing.

  They turned to face the hall. The men were hollering, clapping, stamping. The music started playing, the band striking up a lively measure. Everyone was happy.

  Amabel held her man close, feeling her heart pounding slowly and noting she could feel his own heart, pounding through his tunic, beside her own.

  She smiled at him and he smiled back. Together, they shared the heady claret, staining both their mouths.

  The desire was rising in Amabel and the thought made her blush with a delicious excitement. She had no idea how she would feel, becoming Broderick's wife in truth – what that would mean for her, for them. She just knew that it was an adventure and she wanted, more than anything, to embark on it.

  What the future would hold for them – living under the ruthless ambition of her uncle, who would doubtless be using Broderick to fulfill his military ambitions – she could not guess. All she knew was that, at that moment, her body was aching for his and she longed to be his wife in truth. To experience all that she had thought about, and heard about, but not yet felt.

  They sat together and shared the best meal Amabel had eaten in months.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CLOSER THAN EVER

  CLOSER THAN EVER

  Later, when the dinner was over, Amabel went upstairs.

  The door to their bedchamber was open, the rushes fresh, the fire high.

  “Broderick,” she whispered.

  He pushed her back against the pillar and his mouth explored hers. Wet and hungry, his tongue licked her lip, tasting her. She pushed her head back to let him further in, nipping at his tongue to encourage him to continue.

  She heard him moan.

  “Amabel.”

  He brushed aside her headdress and wove his fingers into her hair.. She had discarded her headdress and it hung long and loose and free about her body, down to her thigh.

  She could feel his hand stroke her throat. His fingers were ticklish, and she leaned back, stifling a giggle against him mouth. They felt like the tiny feet of creatures running across her skin.

  He sighed and moved back. His eyes, when they looked at her, were blurry with longing as her own doubtless were.

  She smiled. She felt him tugging at the fastenings in the back of her gown and turned around playfully, raising her long hair for him.

  “Amabel.” he whispered in wonder and she sighed.

  He moved the gown back from her shoulders, gently letting it slide forward. She felt it fall from her breasts. His hands moved down. She leaned against him as he cupped her breast in a hand. He squeezed it gently, then teased the nipple out, tugging at it. She felt the touch all the way inside her, aching in her belly.

  His other hand stroked her waist. She felt the touch move lower, drifting down, maddeningly down, making her giggle and shudder.

  “Broderick.”

  He whispered into her hair. “What?”

  She giggled.

  Without warning, he moved, stepping around her and gathering her into his arms. He lifted her and dropped her neatly onto the bed. She lay back.

  “Broderick.”

  He looked down at her. She was so beautiful. She was lying on her back, the firelight playing over her curves and shining like polished gems off her skin. He could have looked at her all day. The rise of her breasts, the curve of her waist, her thighs and the shape between them.

  He joined her on the bed. His hands ran down her body, stroking her. She moaned. The sound set a fire inside him. He wanted her. Wanted everything about her. Wanted her arms around him and her mouth on his and her body against him.

  He stroked lower, holding his breath as his fingers slid between her thighs. Her eyes flew open. He smiled.

  “Yes?”

  “Yes.”

  Gently, he slid his hand between the warm skin, feeling the musky damp of her. He moaned. His body was shivering now, great uncontrollable spasms that he knew meant he would spill his seed soon. He bit his lip. He was going to do this slowly.

  He moved his hand, stroking her. He could feel the warm, hard nodule in the silk and he noticed with wonder that his fingers slipped over it. She was so ready.

  He sat back. Still looking at her, he quickly undressed.

  She watched him. He saw her eyes widen and then close again. He came to join her on the bed.

  “I'll not hurt you, lass,” he said gently.

  She smiled.

  “I trust you.”

  He bit his lip. His chest ached. She trusted him. He was not at all sure that he deserved that trust. All he knew was that now that he had it, he would do his level best to never break it. Ever.

  He bent and kissed her. Slowly. He swiveled so his body was beside hers.

  Very gently, he rubbed his body against hers, feeling jolts of fire through him as his manhood traced her skin. He was shaking again, shivers that racked him. He leaned forward and gently eased her knees apart.

  “Yes?”

  “Broderick. Yes.”

  She was looking into his eyes as he moved and, gently, very gently, slid inside her.

  His whole body melted in a fire of sensation as he entered her. He breathed out explosively and he heard her moan. The moan ignited him.

  Amabel felt herself impossibly full. There was a moment where she felt a sudden pain, but it was not as she had expected. It was a sharp pain, and it was immediately followed by a wonderful feeling of wholeness. Wonderfully complete. She had never felt anything like this before and she moaned and tossed as he drove into her again and again and again, filling her with the fullness that moved inside her, rubbing against her, making her wrap her thighs about him and shiver and judder and shake...

  “Oh...oh!”

  She cried aloud. Her whole body seemed to be melting, reaching a place of sensation so intense that it could not contain it, but must float, tingling and alive, on a tide of wonder.

  A second later, she heard him do the same. He groaned loudly and his whole
body went stiff. Then he collapsed.

  He was pumping inside her still, weak strokes that served to make her feel fuller.

  She sighed and wrapped her arms tight.

  Lying with him on her chest, her body warm and happy, she slept.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  A NEW DAY

  A NEW DAY

  “Amabel.”

  Amabel woke to delicious warmth. She opened her eyes and smiled. She rolled over. Broderick was beside her in the bed. She moved to lie beside him.

  He put his arm around her, and she nestled against him. Together they lay and watched the room change from gray to white as the sun rose to shine through the screen before the windows.

  Amabel could feel his hand stroking her waist. She moved her own hand to rest on the center of his chest. Here she could feel his heart beating. She closed her eyes and let the memories of the night return. She smiled.

  “Good morning, my dear.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek.

  “Good morning, sweet Amabel.”

  He stroked her hair gently, smiling into her face. She cuddled closer, and together they lay and listened to the tiny sounds of the castle coming awake.

  “I missed you when I was away,” Broderick whispered. He stroked her hair.

  She turned and looked up, eyes glowing. “I missed you.”

  He laughed and cupped her cheek with his hand. “I am sorry.”

  She tightened her embrace around him. “You'd better be.”

  He laughed. “I promise I shan't do it again. Not if I can help it.”

  Amabel was so surprised she sat up, looking down at him with wide blue eyes.

  “Really?”

  He stroked her shoulder where it was exposed below the curtain of hip-length hair.

  “Yes. I promise you, my Amabel. I will never again let fighting and war be more important than love.”

  Amabel blinked rapidly, feeling tears start. She had not realized how much that would mean. How much it meant to her that his love and hers were worth more than revenge.

  “Oh, Broderick,” she said.

  Her throat closed up and she cried. Great sobs that shook her shoulders, even though she was smiling.

  Broderick sat up and cradled her in his arms. He held her, rocking her back and forth.

  “It is well, my sweet. It is well. I promise. I promise. I am sorry.”

  They sat like that together, her crying and him rocking her, until her crying subsided.

  She sniffed.

  “I am sorry, my dear. I did not realize how much it would mean to me that... that you care for me. That I matter – that we matter – more than war.”

  Broderick stroked her hair. He sighed. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head.

  “I am so, so sorry. I was a blind, arrogant fool. I did not see what I was doing. What I was missing.” He laughed. “Do you know?”

  She blinked. “Know what?”

  “I thought you hated me.”

  She covered her mouth, feeling herself laugh. “Broderick! You... you couldn't have! Why did you ever think…” She trailed off, incredulous.

  Broderick laughed. “You did rather give that impression, you know. I thought you didn't want to touch me, or didn't want me near you. That you found me distasteful somehow.”

  “Broderick! I thought you did that! I thought you wanted me only as a help! I thought I was repulsive to you.”

  Broderick was staring at her. “Repulsive!” he almost-shouted. “Lass! Lass. How on Earth?”

  Amabel was laughing and crying. She reached for her handkerchief and dabbed her face. “Because... you did rather give that impression, you know!”

  Broderick laughed, too, and the two of them collapsed into a laughing, happy heap.

  They lay together for a moment, taking solace in each other's presence.

  “Broderick?” Amabel asked. She was stroking his shoulder.

  “Yes?” He rolled over and the two of them exchanged a kiss.

  Amabel could feel her body catching fire as he touched her. She fought for calm. She had to say this first. “Do you think you're fighting the right people?”

  Broderick looked into her eyes. His brown eyes were level, a small frown above them.

  “Why, lass? In what way?”

  “I only thought... well... I know a little of the story of the raid,” she said carefully. Duncan had told her one night at dinner, but she did not mention that, not wanting to get the man into trouble. “I wondered... how many Bradley did you count in the raid?”

  Broderick thought a moment. “I couldn't tell you, lass. One thing I do know for sure is that there were hundreds of men. Enough to overrun our household guard without much effort.”

  Amabel rolled over. She looked down at him, frowning. “And the Bradley have a large stronghold near Dunkeld? And a large force to command?”

  Broderick's eyes flew open. He nodded. “They have a stronghold near Dunkeld, yes. But it is a small one. I would say they could command no more than forty. Maybe fifty?”

  Amabel's eyes shone. “Well, then! Might it not have been Bradleys you saw at all, then?”

  Broderick paused. He bit his lip, thinking. “It might not have been Bradleys, you are right. At least, it could not have been all Bradleys. They don't have such a strong force. You're correct.” He sat up. “But they have strong allies. The MacAdams...” He trailed off.

  “They have a large force near Dunkeld?” Amabel persisted.

  Broderick closed his eyes. When he opened them, his expression was serious. “Not near, no. If anything, they are much further away. But still…” He paused. “There is nothing to stop them marching overland, is there?”

  “No,” Amabel agreed. “Besides the fact that someone might see them, mightn't they?”

  Broderick bit his lip. “That is true. But, lass, why? Why would anyone go to all that trouble? Why pretend to be Bradleys to make a raid? It makes little sense.”

  Amabel frowned. She nodded. “There's more to guilt than those who are doing.”

  Broderick frowned at her. “What is that?”

  Amabel shook her head. “I don't know,” she said, feeling cross with herself. Why could she not solve this mystery?

  Together they lay on the bed. Amabel curled up, tucking a bolster under her head. Broderick leaned over and drew her back beside him.

  “Lass,” he said gently, stroking her back in a way that made her shiver. “I promise you. Whoever it is who did it... and I promise, we shall find out... I will not pursue vengeance anymore. My heart is light without it. I am free.”

  Amabel snuggled under his arm. “You are.” She leaned against him. “You are free and so am I. We are free to love.”

  Broderick half sat. He looked into her eyes. He kissed her. His mouth touched her in a way that sent fire coursing through her. When his hands moved on her shoulders, stroking lower, she thought she might actually die of pleasure. His fingers tickled down her spine while his other hand tickled along her chest-bone, reaching her nipple.

  She giggled and rolled over, giving him access to her whole chest. He leaned in and took her nipple in his teeth, working it.

  The castle rose and woke about them and the day grew bright.

  Neither of them left the chamber until noon.

  Broderick told Amabel the tales of all his scars, and Amabel told Broderick the stories of the castle and her childhood. They lay in each other’s arms and they kissed and made love.

  If anyone in the solar noticed their grins when they finally emerged for dinner, flushed and laughing, no one thought to make a comment.

  That dinner was a happy time of peace, joy and laughter.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  NEWS IN ODD PLACES

  NEWS IN ODD PLACES

  Amabel strode through the market, feeling happy. She had woken beside her man, and they had made love and talked and told more stories. They were closer than she had ever thought possible and had been so ever since his return.<
br />
  She breathed in, breathing in the scents of roast nuts, fish and vegetables. She loved the market.

  “...ha' ye' no' a haporth o' eggs?” a woman was saying, getting dangerously close to a hawker with fresh eggs, selling them in small baskets.

  “Naw! I ain't got haporths. Only ten in a basket.”

  Amabel grinned as she walked away, hoping the market watch would do something if the debate was too lively. She wandered on to pause at a stall with pure raw wool.

  “Fine wool, milady!” the man behind the table called cheerily. “The best wool.”

  Amabel smiled. “I am sure it is.”

  She felt it, rubbing the oily strands between her fingers. It was fine wool, the fur dense and soft. She was almost tempted to purchase some to ask Blaire to card for weaving. But she had not woven for years and chose against it.

  She paused at a stall with silk, thinking. She wanted to find a present for her aunt. As she waited there, she heard a conversation at the stall where a man sold roasting nuts. She listened in with interest.

  “...and I do hear they're moving on Dunkeld!”

  “No!” The woman moved her hand to her mouth in shock. “It's no' possible.”

  “It is!” the man insisted. “Or so I heard it is.”

  Amabel stopped in her tracks. Who was moving on Dunkeld? That was Broderick's home.

  “Where did you hear it?”

  The man indicated some youths who were setting out a stall on his right. “Them,” he said. “They's woodcutters. They said they saw them in the woods, going that way.”

  The woman raised a brow. “How do they know that's where they plan tae go?”

  The man shrugged. “Dinnae ask me, Bonnie. I dinnae ken. If ye want tae know, they're the best people tae ask.”

  Amabel watched as the woman stared across at the boys, as if deciding whether to ask them anything. At that moment, both of them seemed to notice her. They grew quiet and stood still, regarding her nervously.