Upon investigation, Hardi and Blair learned that none of the MacDonalds had been privy to Robena’s scheme. She’d duped many of the clan members, but none intentionally assisted her. The couple offered Malcolm and Mungan the opportunity for one of them to become the guardian of Inverlochy. They would allow the MacDonalds to remain, but they would have a Cameron governing the keep. It was decided that Mungan and his family would move to Inverlochy.
“All rather anticlimactic,” Blair mused as they rode back to Tor. “Dinna get me wrong. I’m glad there was nay blood shed during a battle, but after living with so much fear, it feels odd that it’s suddenly over.”
“That is the ultimate sign of strong leadership,” Hamish stated as his horse plodded next to Blair’s. Her father leaned forward to look past Blair to where Hardi rode on her right. “Ye both did an exceptional job. I am vera proud to call ye ma son-by-marriage, Hardwin.”
“Thank ye—Hamish.” It still felt unnatural to call his former mentor and the man he admired above all others by his first name, but he’d almost clapped like an excited child when Hamish gave him permission. “By the by,” Hamish said almost casually, “the priest will post the banns this Sunday. When we arrive at Tor, ye will meet me in yer solar to discuss marrying ma daughter properly.”
Blair opened her mouth, but Hamish shook his head. “Nay, ye arenae joining us. Nay, ye arenae a part of the negotiations. And nay, ye arenae going to change ma mind.”
At a feminine throat clearing, Blair looked back at her mother, who shook her head. A pointed look at Hamish’s back made Blair understand that Hamish felt as though he’d missed an important rite by Blair and Hardi handfasting without her parents’ knowledge.
“Aye, Da,” Blair demurred. Both Hardi and Hamish whipped their heads to look at Blair, both faces shocked and worried at her capitulation. “Just dinna have too much whisky and be late to the evening meal.”
“Still just as bossy,” Lachlan muttered.
Blair and Maude exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter. The men looked at them, but the sisters shrugged. If their guesses were right, Lachlan would have a strong-willed wife of his own.
Fifty-Four
Three weeks after the Sutherlands and MacLeods arrived, Blair patted her hair once more. She shook out the kirtle she’d made during her third visit home from court. She’d always intended to wear it for her wedding, but she’d assumed she’d missed that opportunity. Amelia explained that the family thought it likely that Blair was with Hardi since the last information they had was about the couple’s interest in courting. Amelia packed the clothes Blair had left behind at Dunrobin and insisted they bring them. Blair was eternally grateful that her mother had that foresight.
Hamish walked beside her as they left the keep and walked toward the kirk. She couldn’t see Hardi’s face yet, but his height afforded her a glimpse of his hair. Tawny locks shimmered gold in the sun as Blair approached the church. When the clans’ members parted, creating a path toward the kirk’s steps, Blair’s breath caught at the sight of Hardi standing, waiting for her. His brilliant smile when he finally saw her was surely enough to blind everyone. They stood together as the priest bound their wrists with the same hair ribbon they’d used at their handfasting in the orchard.
“Ye are the most radiant star in all the heavens,” Hardi said. He squeezed her hands as he gazed into her eyes. He would never tire of looking at the whisky-brown swirls that surrounded her pupils. The sun on her face made her eyes shine in a way that made them almost translucent. Blair’s expression softened as she peered into Hardi’s hazel eyes, the blue and green reminding her of the North Sea that lay beneath the cliff where Dunrobin perched. His eyes were the shade of the summer water they’d paddled in as children.
“There is nay mon brawer than ye. Ye’re the mon little girls dream of growing up to marry,” Blair whispered.
They exchanged their vows and moved into the church for the wedding Mass, but it all floated by in a haze for the couple. When they arrived in the Great Hall, Blair and Hardi looked at one another, then raced to the stairs. Impatient and afraid Blair would trip, Hardi lifted her into his arms as he ran up the remaining stairs. People cheered once they overcame their surprise.
“Something they promised before they even handfasted,” Maude dismissed with a wave of her hand, but when she caught Kieran’s eye, her face broke into a knowing grin.
The newlyweds weren’t able to escape reality for a month, but they managed to sequester themselves for a week. No one dared knock on their door except to deliver food or to prepare their baths. When they finally emerged, they enjoyed three more days of the Sutherlands’ and MacLeods’ company before both clans departed. Blair and Hardi stood on the battlements as they watched their family ride away. She held a newly carved figurine that resembled Blair and Hardi, with the bairn Blair announced resting in Hardi’s arms. Blair turned to stand within Hardi’s embrace as they kissed, the rising sun as their backdrop.
“Ye shall surely be a saint one day, mo chridhe,” Hardi whispered against her lips. “Ye have the heart and the bravery of one already.”
“Mayhap one day, but there are far too many days I intend to spend with ye before anyone should think on that,” Blair responded before they kissed again. When they pulled apart, Blair rested her head against Hardi’s chest. She inhaled and released a deep sigh. She knew no better place than being in her husband’s arms.
“Ye make me happy,” they said in unison. Their laughter filled the air, and the people in the bailey looked up to find their laird and lady kissing once more.
Epilogue
“Hurry,” Blair hissed. “I wore the weans out on purpose so they would fall asleep early. I shall regret it when they’re up before the roosters, but they always ken when I’m aboot to slip away.” Hardi held her hand and led the way down the path toward the loch beside Dunrobin. They reached the spot where Blair had once upon a time watched Hardi, but they moved on until they came to a spot hidden by rocks and trees.
“I may nae be able to slow down,” Hardi grinned as he helped Blair slip out of her kirtle before he discarded his clothes. They eased into the warm summer water that reflected the last of the sun’s dusky rays. Hardi pulled Blair against him once she could no longer touch the bottom. She wrapped her legs around Hardi as she floated before him. Hardi pressed down on Blair’s hips as his cock eased into her. They remained joined but not moving.
“Thank ye for always bringing me down here,” Blair murmured. “I’d hoped we might slip down here together once in our lifetime, but ye make sure we can each time we visit.”
“It makes me just as happy to be here with ye. I love our weans, and I love our life, but we dinna get much chance to be alone outside our bedchamber,” Hardi confessed.
“I miss the days when we could disappear into a storeroom or our solar or the stables or the woods and make love with nay one calling out ‘Mama, Da.’ Mayhap we will when they are aulder. But then they’ll be auld enough to understand what’s happening. It horrified me when I first understood why ma mama and da disappeared some afternoons.”
“Now can ye blame them?” Hardi chuckled, remembering his own traumatized experience when he learned Laird and Lady Sutherland enjoyed walks that ended with guards posted around a nearby copse of trees.
“Ye were thinking aboot ma parents, but now ye’re remembering our two interludes among the trees,” Blair teased.
“I am. But it was three, mo chridhe,” Hardi corrected.
“True. I dinna ken how I could forget aboot what we did when we returned to Stirling with the rest of the geld. There was nay way to pretend we hadnae been making love when Roddy quietly pointed to the leaves in ma hair.”
The couple laughed together; the movement shifting their position and awakening their arousal. They moved together as the water lapped around them until they clung together as their climaxes carried them over the precipice together. They took their time recovering, exchanging tender kis
ses before they left the water. Once dressed, they returned to the path and turned toward the keep.
“Do ye think we might have created another bairn just now?” Hardi wondered.
Blair grinned at him before making a dash for the postern gate. She called over her shoulder, “Too late for that.”
Hardi stumbled as he registered Blair’s meaning. He raced to catch up with her, capturing her around the waist. No one saw or heard from them until their children stirred before dawn, asking where they’d gone the evening before. They shrugged as they welcomed their children into their bed and pulled up the covers as their little ones chattered away. Blair and Hardi exchanged a look that spoke all the feelings words could never describe. A look only those deeply in love could understand.
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The Highland Ladies
A Spinster at the Highland Court BOOK 1 SNEAK PEEK
Elizabeth Fraser looked around the royal chapel within Stirling Castle. The ornate candlestick holders on the altar glistened and reflected the light from the ones in the wall sconces as the priest intoned the holy prayers of the Advent season. Elizabeth kept her head bowed as though in prayer, but her green eyes swept the congregation. She watched the other ladies-in-waiting, many of whom were doing the same thing. She caught the eye of Allyson Elliott. Elizabeth raised one eyebrow as Allyson’s lips twitched. Both women had been there enough times to accept they’d be kneeling for at least the next hour as the Latin service carried on. Elizabeth understood the Mass thanks to her cousin Deirdre Fraser, or rather now Deirdre Sinclair. Elizabeth’s mind flashed to the recent struggle her cousin faced as she reunited with her husband Magnus after a seven-year separation. Her aunt and uncle’s choice to keep Deirdre hidden from her husband simply because they didn’t think the Sinclairs were an advantageous enough match, and the resulting scandal, still humiliated the other Fraser clan members at court. She admired Deirdre’s husband Magnus’s pledge to remain faithful despite not knowing if he’d ever see Deirdre again.
Elizabeth suddenly snapped her attention; while everyone else intoned the twelfth—or was it thirteenth—amen of the Mass, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She had the strongest feeling that someone was watching her. Her eyes scanned to her right, where her parents sat further down the pew. Her mother and father had their heads bowed and eyes closed. While she was convinced her mother was in devout prayer, she wondered if her father had fallen asleep during the Mass. Again. With nothing seeming out of the ordinary and no one visibly paying attention to her, her eyes swung to the left. She took in the king and queen as they kneeled together at their prie-dieu. The queen’s lips moved as she recited the liturgy in silence. The king was as still as a statue. Years of leading warriors showed, both in his stature and his ability to control his body into absolute stillness. Elizabeth peered past the royal couple and found herself looking into the astute hazel eyes of Edward Bruce, Lord of Badenoch and Lochaber. His gaze gave her the sense that he peered into her thoughts, as though he were assessing her. She tried to keep her face neutral as heat surged up her neck. She prayed her face didn’t redden as much as her neck must have, but at a twenty-one, she still hadn’t mastered how to control her blushing. Her nape burned like it was on fire. She canted her head slightly before looking up at the crucifix hanging over the altar. She closed her eyes and tried to invoke the image of the Lord that usually centered her when her mind wandered during Mass.
A Spy at the Highland Court BOOK 1.5 SNEAK PEEK
A Companion to the Series
Dedric Hage watched as the English king continued his royal rage as courtiers and advisors eased away from their irate sovereign. His Majesty’s face was mottled with red splotches that only accentuated his fair complexion, and spittle formed at the corners of his mouth as his rant amplified. King Edward stalked about the chamber on the long legs that earned him the moniker “Longshanks.”
“I don’t give a bloody damn who oversaw the attack. It failed!” He railed against the last advisor who tried to reassure him that the recent loss was not the end of his campaign against the Scots. “Failure is failure. That usurper believes he’s gotten the upper hand, and he will continue worming his way further into England now that he thinks he has outsmarted me. I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
King Edward muttered his final comments as he sank back into the engraved and carved chair that sat on a dais. His bile spewed the king retreated into his own thoughts as the rest of the chamber was left wondering what to do next.
Dedric had seen this pattern countless times over the course of his life. He was all too familiar with the king’s mercurial temper and unpredictable outbursts, but he also knew Edward was one of the best strategists and logisticians to have every lived. While he might not like the man, he respected him. At times. Ric watched as the king scanned the crowd, assessing each knight present until his eyes settled on rich, who wished he could melt into the curtains and watch the people in the gardens below.
“Sir Dedric, approach.”
A Wallflower at the Highland Court BOOK 2 SNEAK PEEK
The din of music and loud conversation–along with the pervasive odor of too many unwashed or over-perfumed bodies crowded into Stirling Castle’s Great Hall–gave Maude Sutherland a pounding headache. As she observed the dancers from her position at the side of the chamber, part of her envied the other ladies-in-waiting who twirled with ease and confidence, but mostly she wished for nothing more than the blessed silence of her chamber. While Maude propped up the wall, she spied her younger sister, Blair, who moved through the country reel with what must have been her seventh partner that evening. Though she was only an observer, sweat trickled down Maude’s back and between her breasts. A warm snap—unseasonable for spring in the Highlands— had the doors to the terraces wide open. This should have been enough to ease Maude’s discomfort, but the breeze did little to offset how her thick brown hair trapped the heat on her head and neck. Unlike most maidens, Maude wore her hair up almost every waking moment. She possessed a massive amount of thick, coarse, mousey brown hair that was unruly even on the best of days. By evening the weight of the hair, regardless of whether it was up or down, pulled on her neck and contribute
d to her headache. She would have loved nothing more than to cut it all off and wear it short like her father, Laird Hamish Sutherland, or her brother, Lachlan. She envied them the freedom to wear their hair however they wanted.
A crimson gown floated in Maude’s periphery, so she turned to watch her closest friend, Arabella Johnstone. She and Arabella were as different as chalk and cheese but had somehow struck up a close friendship. Where Arabella’s hair glowed in the candlelight, Maude accepted her hair was dull. Where Arabella’s face looked like an artist’s masterpiece, Maude was aware she was plain. Where Arabella was petite and lean through her hips and legs, Maude considered herself far too broad across the beam. As she grew into womanhood, her frame filled out, and while she had a bust most women would envy, her hips and legs were proportionate. Whenever Arabella or Blair glided across the dance floor, she recalled the many adjectives her brother and his friends had come up with for her when they were younger. “Sodgy,” “bamsey,” “bowzy,” “jostly,” “podg,” and “flobbed up” were the ones that always came to mind. Her brother had since repented for the unkind and merciless teasing. Lachlan noticed that the more he and his friends teased Maude, the less she ate. On the day she collapsed and nearly fell down the stairs leading to the family chambers, he was the one to catch her and carry her to her chamber. In her hazy state, she confessed to have only eaten dried fruit and bannocks the previous three days in hopes of slimming. Lachlan never said an unkind word to his sister again and thereafter became fiercely protective of her, fighting more than one friend when they failed to cease teasing her.
A Saint at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Six Page 34
