A Saint at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Six

by Barclay, Celeste

  “As long as the hay isnae too prickly,” Blair giggled. They hurried to gather what they’d both dropped along with their writing supplies before dismissing Maeve and going in search of their clansmen.

  Thirty

  Once Blair, Hardi, both Sutherland guards, and Bran made their way to the orchard, Hardi and Blair stood facing one another under the orchard canopy. Blair handed Hardi the ribbon she pulled loose from her hair, and together they tied it around the wrists of their joined hands. Hardi draped over their hands the length of plaid he’d unfastened from his shoulder.

  “Blair, I would be certain we understand one another before we begin,” Hardi kept his voice low, so their three witnesses couldn’t listen. “This is a handfast, but I consider it a binding marriage. I willna consider a repudiation in a year and a day. If ye arenae sure ye want this, if ye arenae sure ye can go through with this without yer parents’ blessing, then tell me now. I willna hold it against ye, and we can wait for yer father’s decision.”

  “If the next word out of yer mouth arenae the beginning of our marriage vows, I shall pull yer hair and tug on yer ear like when we were children and ye annoyed me,” Blair warned. She grinned as Hardi relaxed. “I love ye. If ye think to repudiate this, then ye had best run all the way to England. Otherwise, I will find ye and drag ye back. I’d drag ye back even if ye hid under Longshanks’s bed.”

  “I love ye, Blair Sutherland.” Hardi returned her smile. Blair blinked several times as she realized that would be the last time anyone would call her a Sutherland. “Blair?”

  “Aye.” Blair looked into Hardi’s eyes and thought she would melt. The love and concern she glimpsed assured her she was making the right choice. “I was just thinking I willna be Blair Sutherland in a few minutes. As surreal as that is, I canna help the excitement of becoming Blair Cameron.”

  “Blair, ye’ll always be a Sutherland. Yer name willna change that, but I confess I’m impatient for ye to carry ma name. I want ye to be a Cameron because it means ye’re ma wife.”

  “And I want to become a Cameron because it means ye’re ma husband. I love ye, Hardwin.” They gazed at one another. Neither could remember the last time Blair used Hardi’s given name. It made the moment even more sacred.

  “Blair Ceana Sutherland, ma love, ye are the one person with whom I can share all that I am. I promise to trust ye and to be honest with ye. I promise to listen to ye, respect ye, and support ye. I promise to do all of this through whatever life brings us: riches or poverty, health or illness, through good times and bad, until the end of ma days.” Hardi’s thumb rubbed over the bare finger that would soon wear his ring.

  “Hardwin Fionn Cameron, ma love, ye are the one person with whom I can share all that I am. I promise to laugh and play with ye and grow and bend with ye. I promise to cherish every day we have together. I promise to do all of this through whatever life brings us: riches or poverty, health or illness, through good times and bad, until the end of ma days.”

  Together they pledged, “We are now but one body and one blood. Let us from this day forth be united with one destiny.”

  Hardi and Blair stood together for a long moment, gazing into one another's eyes. The emotion that passed between them more powerful than the words they exchanged. Hardi cupped Blair’s cheek, and she covered his hand with hers as they sealed their pledge with a kiss so filled with tenderness that tears smarted behind Blair’s eyes. When they pulled apart, Hardi did nothing to hide the moisture in his eyes.

  “Blair Cameron, I will love through this life and the next,” Hardi whispered.

  Blair opened her mouth to speak, but the lump in her throat kept any sound from passing through. She nodded as she mouthed, “I love ye now and forever.” They brought their bound hands to their chests, Hardi’s resting over Blair’s heart as hers rested over his. They both looked down, appreciating the symbolism of their vows and the future they would create together. Unable to resist, they shared another kiss before the bells for the midday meal interrupted.

  With great reluctance, they untied their hands and Hardi returned the plaid to its place over his shoulder. They’d forgotten anyone but them existed in the world until they faced their witnesses. Blair accepted Donald’s and Tomas’s embraces, remembering how both men had once teased her as they swung her in the air as a child. Hardi shook forearms with Bran and thanked him for his well wishes. It was with a heavy heart that all five left their smiles and good cheer at the door of the keep, entering as though nothing out of the norm had happened during their visit to the Inverlochy orchard.

  * * *

  When the couple claimed their seats beside one another at the evening meal, they both breathed a sigh of relief. Beneath the tablecloth, Hardi drew Blair’s skirt high over her thigh until his hand rested on her knee, then slid higher. Blair studiously pretended to ignore Hardi’s teasing, but when he drew his hand away, hers pressed it back down, this time higher. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye before slipping her hand beneath his plaid to rest on his thigh, her fingernails grazing his skin. She felt the shiver that ran through his body.

  “Blair, I will tease yer body for every moment ye tease mine,” Hardi said under his breath. Blair skimmed her fingers higher. “I will bring ye to the edge then deny ye over and over until ye can do naught but beg.”

  Blair looked directly at Hardi. “And I shall have ma chance to suck on ye.”

  Hardi growled as his fingers bit into the flesh on her thigh. “Ye may act like a saint, but ye are pure temptation.”

  Blair swallowed as she peered past Hardi to their hosts before looking back at him. “I shall excuse maself early, claiming a headache. I dinna even care if Artair gloats that I overtaxed maself. Make yer own excuses.”

  Blair sat back as servants placed dishes on the table and filled chalices to near overflowing. Neither Hardi nor Blair drank more than a few sips. Blair pretended to catch herself before rubbing her head. She shifted in her seat several times, her discomfort real, her arousal making her entire body thrum with need. She remained quiet throughout the meal, offering only simple answers to Robena’s questions and only nodding to the wives of the senior guardsmen seated at the table. Before the last course, Blair excused herself, claiming an unrelenting ache. She didn’t say where, only giving the impression that it was her head when she put her fingers to her temple. Hardi understood it was an ache of an entirely different nature. Hardi endured the last course before claiming he would leave early in the morning and would retire for a full night’s sleep. However, he intended to get barely an hour.

  Thirty-One

  Hardi nodded to Bran and another Cameron guard who’d followed Blair to her chamber and stood guard outside. He knocked once before slipping inside. Blair sat at the table that held her ribbons and fragrant oil. She put down her comb as Hardi came into view through her looking glass. She turned in her seat, her robe sliding open over her leg, revealing bare skin. She didn’t wait to rise and draw open her dressing gown and let it fall to the floor. She ambled toward Hardi, but his long stride brought them together. Despite her seductive welcome, there was little finesse in their kiss. Hardi’s fingers bit into the flesh of Blair’s buttocks as she moaned into his mouth. Her hand slipped between them as she cupped his rod.

  The raw need in Hardi’s eyes matched Blair’s. Their courtship hadn’t been long, but memories of their adolescent attraction along with their ease with one another hadn’t left either in doubt. But no matter how brief the time had been, it was an excruciating duration when it came to repressed need. Hardi unpinned his plaid as Blair unfastened his belt. Once Hardi stood naked before Blair, her mouth went slack as her eyes roamed over the chiseled muscles of his chest, abdomen, and thighs. She stepped around him, awed by the hewn plains of his backside. She didn’t resist the temptation to spread her hands over his tight buttocks. Her hands glided up his back as she pressed her body against his, kissing his shoulder blade.

  “Mo theampall.” My temptation, Hardi
murmured as he reached back to guide Blair to stand before him. He lifted her off the ground, and her legs came around his waist. “I want what I shouldnae from ma maiden bride.”

  “Tell me,” Blair whispered before kissing him. “I want to hear it.”

  Hardi wondered if he should confess, fearing his crass thought might ruin the moment. Blair rocked her hips, brushing her mons against his straining rod. The top of his cock searched for her entrance, and when it found its coveted place, it demanded Hardi thrust.

  “Tell me, Hardi,” Blair pressed as Hardi laid her on the bed. “Ye willna shock me. I want to hear ye desire me. I ken ye do because I can feel it. I dinna understand why I need the words, but when ye tell me what ye want, I canna help but get more excited.”

  “I ken I should make love to ye, but I want to fuck ye. Hard.” Hardi admitted. He looked away, ashamed he’d spoken so bluntly to a woman he treasured, who he would never treat like a common tavern wench. Blair gripped his chin between her thumb and fingers, pulling him back to meet her gaze.

  “Then show me.”

  “Ye dinna ken what ye’re saying,” Hardi argued. “I dinna ever want to hurt ye, but yer first time may be painful. I wouldnae add to it by being rough.”

  “Mo ghaol, I ken the pain isnae on purpose. But I confess, I dinna ken if I can go slowly. Hardi, ye were brave enough to say what I want. I couldnae bring maself to ask. I didna—” Blair trailed off as Hardi climbed onto the bed beside her.

  “Ye didna want to sound like a whore when ye should be innocent of kenning how a mon and woman come together,” Hardi supplied for her. “Blair, I ken ye’re a virgin. Ye would have told me if ye werenae. I’ve felt yer barrier when I’ve touched ye. And despite the passion we share, yer kisses and touch are still innocent. I dinna think less of ye.”

  “And I dinna think less of ye,” Blair ran her hands over his chest and back as he brought his body to hover of his. She watched his muscles strain and bunch as he held himself up on his hands. His abdomen rippled with every breath, and the tip of his cock laid atop the thatch of dark curls on her mound. Blair’s voice dropped to a whisper. “By God, Hardi, every inch of ye is perfect. I want to touch every part of ye. And I have never felt so possessive of anyone or anything before in ma life. I could kill any woman who thinks to touch what is mine and nay even blink.”

  Blair dropped her legs wide as her hand wrapped around Hardi’s shaft. His hand covered hers, and they guided him into her entrance. He eased the tip into her channel, sucking in whistling breaths as he tried to move slowly. He wanted her to have time to grow accustomed to the invasion, her untried sheath stretching to accommodate him.

  “Hardi?” Blair purred. Hardi met her gaze. “Do ye need me as much I need ye?”

  “Ye ken that I do,” he panted.

  “Then now,” Blair hissed as she raised her hips. Hardi thrust into her, breaking through her barrier, making her his wife in truth. Blair’s neck strained as she pressed against the pillow, the moment painful, but she welcomed it. Hardi was now undisputedly her husband. Hardi watched as Blair relaxed before pulling his head down for a kiss. Before their lips met, she whispered. “Fuck me.”

  Both abandoned any restraint. The bed groaned, the legs of its frame scratching the floor in rhythm to each of Hardi’s thrusts. Blair’s unrelenting hold on his backside as she raised her hips to every thrust spurred him on. Supporting himself on one hand, his other squeezed her breast. He brushed his finger over her nipple until it hardened. He pinched as tightly as he dared.

  “Blair, I’m scared I’m hurting ye. If nae now, then when we are done.” Hardi slowed his thrusts and lowered himself onto his forearms. His surges pressed his sword into her sheath just as deeply as when he raced toward completion, but his movement was slower. Their kiss remained passionate, but tenderness replaced wildness. Hardi slid his palms under her shoulders as Blair’s knees bracketed his hips. They settled into a rocking motion until Blair’s body went taut, and she fought not to cry out. The sudden vice-like grip around his cock pushed Hardi over the edge, spilling into her. He was certain he’d never sired a bastard, but he hadn’t always been as cautious as he should have. As he took in Blair’s flushed face and heaving chest, for the first time in his life, he hoped his seed took root. If not this time, then soon. He cared not if it was a boy or a girl. He simply longed to create a family with his wife.

  Aware that his arms shook, he worried he would crush Blair when they gave out. Hardi tucked hair behind Blair’s ear before pressing a soft kiss to her lip. He moved to roll off her, but she clung to him.

  “Please, nae yet,” Blair pleaded, but she closed her eyes, not wanting Hardi to witness a different kind of neediness.

  “I dinna want to move, but I fear ma weight is too much,” Hardi explained.

  “It’s nae. I want to hold ye,” Blair murmured.

  “I want that more than aught.” Hardi settled against Blair, careful not to press his entire weight onto her. But when she grunted her dissatisfaction, he tested her frame. It not only surprised him how Blair’s body bore his weight but how she welcomed it as he nuzzled her neck. They pressed light kisses along one another’s shoulders until their heartbeats slowed. To both of their disappointment, Hardi’s sword slipped from her sheath, but he didn’t pull away. They held one another until Blair’s eyes drifted close on long blinks. Hardi rolled onto his back, bringing Blair with him. His fingers skimmed her back as she dozed off. He soon followed, but as he intended, they spent only an hour sleeping that night. Their unsated need rousing them repeatedly.

  Thirty-Two

  Blair rose from the bed, her body sore. Her eye caught sight of the red stain that marked the end of her maidenhood. Hardi came around to her side of the bed and slipped his arms around her.

  “How do ye feel, mo leannan?” Concern laced Hardi’s voice, and Blair refused to admit the truth, unwilling to cause Hardi a moment of guilt or worry.

  “Like a well-satisfied wife,” Blair grinned. She pulled away and turned back to the bed. She pulled at the corner of the sheet at the head of the bed until it came loose. She leaned over the bed and continued to tug until the other side allowed her to gather it.

  “I can dispose of that,” Hardi offered.

  “Dinna ye dare,” Blair warned as she looked back over her shoulder. “Whether people ken this will be old or they believe it’s fresh, they will expect proof once ye announce ye have a wife.” Blair folded the sheet into a tight bundle and placed it at the bottom of the small chest she’d brought with her. They walked to the stand with the jug and ewer, Hardi insisting upon helping Blair with her morning ablutions. His gentleness as he cleansed between her thighs made her eyes water. Neither of them was certain when next they would see one another. They dressed in silence, but before they left Blair’s chamber, Hardi led Blair to the chair before the fire. He sat down and eased her into his lap, careful not to touch her in any way that might cause discomfort.

  “Before yesterday in the solar, I hadnae cried since Dougal died, and then I didna let anyone see me,” Hardi confessed. “Leaving ye behind makes me want to sob as I did yesterday.”

  “I’m trying to be brave and nae turn into a bairn, but I’m struggling,” Blair admitted.

  “If ye need aught, send one of yer guards or one of the king’s. I will come nay matter what,” Hardi pledged.

  “I make the same offer. Ask, and I will come with haste. Hardi, it scares me that ye’re going back, and we still dinna ken what’s happening.”

  “I will send Bran with updates when I can. I promise.”

  Blair nodded as she leaned her head against Hardi’s chest. She wished they could stay together, behind their locked door, and forget the rest of the world existed. But the sun was already over the horizon, and they could hear movement outside the chamber. Neither doubted that their night spent together was no secret. Without a ring on her finger, Hardi worried about how the MacDonalds would treat Blair. They’d come to an agreement between cou
plings that Blair would wear one of her own rings but on her left ring finger. She’d brought a few pieces of jewelry with her but had worn none since arriving at Inverlochy. Hardi had slipped it onto her finger, and they’d recited their handfast vows again. As they held hands before the fire, Hardi twisted the ring, the feel reassuring to them both. When they could no longer put off Hardi’s departure, Blair joined him in the bailey. They’d said their goodbyes privately in Blair’s chamber. A swift kiss was all they shared before Hardi swung into the saddle and spurred his horse. Just as he had the first time he left Blair at Inverlochy, Hardi turned back four times before Blair was out of sight. She waved until he disappeared.

  * * *

  The next three days felt like an eternity to Blair. Despite the ring on her finger, her welcome at Inverlochy had run out. Between what people heard firsthand and what developed through gossip, looks of disdain from women and leers from men followed her everywhere. She refused to cower or hide. She wasn’t ashamed of what she and Hardi did. If people chose not to believe the ring on her finger signified their handfast, Blair wasn’t interested in convincing them. While Tomas and Donald trailed more closely, she went about the keep and bailey as she had before her wedding night. She helped Robena, who she sensed now wanted to turn Blair away but couldn’t afford to refuse help given her ever-expanding belly. The one person who made life truly miserable was Artair.

  “Lady Blair, I’m certain there is a copy of Tristan and Isolde in my library. Mayhap you would prefer that to toiling alongside a mere chieftain’s wife. After all, you are the daughter of an earl,” Artair announced at the morning meal shortly after Hardi left Inverlochy. Blair rued mentioning her lineage, but she’d been annoyed her first day. Now, those veiled insults were a drop in the bucket compared to Artair’s blunt comments. She wasn’t interested in reading the chivalric romance.