Troy wrapped his arm around his soon-to-be wife, holding her close against him as they rode over the waves and stared at the long coastline of Scotland. “The thing ye Sassenachs dinnae rightly understand is that we Scotsmen are much more romantic than yer offish Englishmen. A fob with a wig and cane could never name a boat such as this, ye know.”
Ruth smiled, laying her head on Troy’s shoulder. “Aye, I suppose yer right, lad,” she replied, mimicking his accent, to Troy’s merriment.
He paused. “Twould be the name I’d give ye, lass, if ye were a boat.”
She turned to him. “Is that so, Mr. Ferguson?”
His eyes flooded with desire, and Ruth felt herself fill with heat, longing to be near to him. They had not been together in many weeks and had decided to wait until their official wedding ceremony, to be said by the captain of the ship, to be together again.
Troy stared at her for a moment and then grumbled. “Where is this captain? I’m tired of waiting.”
Ruth smirked, even though her feelings were the same. She placed a hand upon his chest. “Feeling anxious for the bedroom, are you?”
“A man shouldnae be late when he has an important duty tae complete.” Troy grumbled again and moved Ruth’s hand. She laughed. “Dinnae taunt me, lass. Ye will have cause tae regret it.”
Ruth lifted an eyebrow, amused. “I thought that’s what an enchantress was supposed to do. Taunt. Enchant. Tempt?” She moved close to his lips and pulled away. Troy scowled. Ruth had discovered that Troy was ever the gentleman and did not like to display his affection so openly, and certainly not in front of other men. She used this little bit of knowledge to her advantage, watching him struggle against desire.
“Leave him alone, lass. I see you there. All ye women are vixens. It must run in the family!” William called to her from nearby. He and Marianne had come along for the journey to act as witnesses to the marriage. William had argued with Marianne about it, due to her pregnancy, but she was not to be left behind. The baby was not due for another few months.
Troy nodded in thanks at William and began to pace the boat, awaiting the time when the captain would be prepared to marry them. They had paid to join a boat of supplies that was stopping at Skye before moving on to the American colonies. Since it was not normally a passenger boat, or at least not built for many passengers, they were lucky to have so much space to themselves.
Ruth looked out to sea and took a deep breath. The past week had been like a dream. They had made preparations to leave, and she and Troy were able to finally sit and discuss together, being perfectly open about their love and desires for the future. After all her searching, after reconciling with Troy, and once all the truth had been revealed, it felt like she was coming home again to a true home. No longer would she need to cower away and hide who she really was. Now she could come openly into the arms of her husband, and live the life she had so desired, with the companion of her heart.
The sea was just as she’d imagined it. Of course, it wasn’t a very long trip between Brechin and Skye, but it was something. It was her second adventure, really, after leaving London under the cover of night. Or perhaps she should say her third adventure, if you count her departure with Dougal and all that ensued, which had been most exciting. But she knew that this adventure was the start of something. That thought, mixed with the fresh sea air and the comforting rhythm of the waves, filled her with anticipation.
She could do it. She would live aboard a ship and travel the world. She would be free and live freely with her true love. She turned back to see a pacing Troy, and she smiled. Troy Ferguson. She felt unutterably blessed to have been chosen by him. She had chosen him from the beginning, but it certainly took him long enough to choose her in return. He was everything. He was the man in her dreams, the man of her dreams, clutching her as they rode off to sea in the waning sunset. He was the one who held fast and strong and was loyal to her, loving her for who she was.
Not once had Troy asked her to change and be someone else, yet her father had always told her there was something wrong with her wildness, her impulsivity. Now it seemed as if it was a gift from Heaven, such joy had it brought her. And so much more joy to come. But first, they had their mission to complete with the priest on the Isle of Skye. She couldn’t wait to see the weight lifted from Troy’s chest when he rid himself of the cross.
“Ahoy all!” The captain came on deck, emerging from his quarters. “Forgive me delay, lads and lasses.” He bowed deeply, removing his tricornered hat. “I was busy with business that could not be avoided, I’m afraid. But now I am here tae assist ye both. Come tae the bow of the ship.”
Troy went rigid, and Ruth twisted her arm about his, smiling with amusement as they moved towards the captain. William and Marianne stood nearby, watching with smiles, their arms around each other. Ruth leaned to Troy. “You’d think you were unhappy about getting married, the way your body is tensing. Shall we jump ship?” She chuckled, but she was nervous to hear his reply.
Troy turned to her, and Ruth relaxed when she saw his smile. He leaned down to kiss her. “Nae, lass. I just...I just worry that I willnae be a good husband. My da was not a good man, and I was not always a good man.”
“I havnae gotten tae the kissing part yet.” The captain laughed.
Troy ignored him. He stood in front of Ruth his arms open. “Will ye take me such as I am? Past and all? A man who scares women from their horses at night, has stolen crosses, and has tae fight their former first mates with a sword?”
Ruth laughed and took his hands in hers. “Aye. I shall take you just as you are, Troy. But can you manage to take someone like me? A woman who is unpredictable, wild, an independent. A woman who falls for tricks, reads about masculine topics, wears no corset, and has scars from a bad father?”
The captain’s eyes widened at the couple’s revelations. He watched as they simply looked at each other with smiles, and then he said. “Are ye ready, ye two?”
“Aye.” They said in unison. The captain began the marriage ceremony. “Do ye take this man tae be yer lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do.”
“And do ye take this woman tae be yer lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do. Again, and again.”
Ruth gasped slightly as Troy winked at her. She mouthed the word ‘scoundrel’ to him, but her lips curled up in smile. She would not easily forget that phrase, spoken to her in a sun-dappled meadow.
They exchanged a set of silver rings, their eyes not leaving each other, and then the captain said loudly, “I now pronounce ye two husband and wife. Ye may kiss...the bride.”
But Troy wasn’t listening. Before the captain had even finished his sentence, his arms were around Ruth, bringing her close to him, his lips on hers. She sighed into his body and held tightly around his neck, opening her mouth.
The captain chuckled and moved away from them to talk with Marianne and William. He motioned back to Ruth and Troy who hadn’t broken their embrace. “Och young love. I remember it well meself. Was the man a captain?”
Marianne hesitated, unsure how much of Troy’s past she should reveal. “Yes. Yes, he was.”
“I like the look of the lad. I’d like tae speak tae him about a job, if he’s interested. I need to get someone tae take over for me, so that I can return home tae me wife, the long-suffering woman.”
He smiled and whispered. “But I think I oughtae wait until their first order of business is complete. No man wants tae hear about work at a time like this.”
William laughed and shook the old captain’s hand. “Aye, Sir, yer quite right.” The captain left, and William turned to his wife, his hand on her waist. “And ye, my dear? How shall we amuse ourselves while the “young lovers” get their business completed?”
Marianne chuckled and blushed slightly. “William Fraser, that is my sister you’re discussing.” She smiled as she placed two hands on his chest, fiddling with the buttons on his waistcoat. “But I do have a few ideas,” she said
softly, and looked up at him, a sly smile on her face.
William lifted an eyebrow. “Och, so ye do, lass,” he replied in a low, husky voice. “I hope I am still a young lover in yer mind, my love.”
Marianne laughed. “William, we were only married last year!” To his scowl, she said, “But, of course, you will always be my young, handsome, strong, capable lover.” These last words she whispered into his ear, and he smiled. “Vixen. I do like tae think I’m more than capable.” And William’s hands attempted to reach Marianne’s buttocks before she slapped them away.
“Not here, surely!” She laughed, and William took her in his arms, carrying her to the lower deck.
Ruth and Troy broke the kiss, both of their eyes dreamy and heated. Ruth looked around and saw no one. “Oh, I see no one is here to congratulate us?”
Troy placed a hand on her cheek. “Alone at last? Come.”
He took her hand and pulled her towards the lower deck. There were a few rooms aboard the ship which had been made for them, and Troy had imagined this trip for the past week. Once they were below deck, they heard the giggles of Marianne, and Ruth said, “Ah, so that’s where they’ve gone, is it?”
Troy laughed. “William and I are of the same mind at this moment.” He pulled Ruth into their room and shut the wooden door. There was only a small bed, nailed to the floor, along with a tiny desk and water basin, with a broken looking glass, but it was what he had been itching for. A space alone with Ruth and the chance to be with her again.
The captain had kindly left them a jug of wine.
Troy began to untie the laces of Ruth’s dress. It was a dark purple, worn especially for the ceremony, but now Troy wanted nothing more than to see it removed. Ruth smiled as she felt the pull of laces on her back and goosebumps raised on her flesh as she felt the removal of her bodice. Her nipples peaked under the white linen shift, but Troy did not yet notice as he continued to untie her skirts from her lower back.
She waited patiently. They were silent as he worked, Ruth trying to calm her breath, hoping that he would be satisfied.
He began, “We have only seen each other in clothes or in the dim light. Now I want tae look on ye fully, lass. It has been on my mind since the last time we were together. In the library.” Once she stepped out of her skirts, she turned around, feeling a little shy at being thus exposed.
But seeing his face, she was emboldened. She slowly untied the strings at her chest, watching his eyes follow her fingers there, and she pulled down the shift from one shoulder at a time, exposing her creamy, smooth skin and large breasts.
Troy inhaled sharply. He reached out to touch her as soon as the shift hit the floor. “Bloody Hell, Ruth Browne, ye are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
Ruth’s every muscle relaxed with relief, and she moved to catch his lips, but he had other ideas. He leaned down and took a pink nipple in his mouth, holding onto the breast, kneading it. Ruth smiled and gasped with pleasure, throwing her head back.
Troy moved to the other breast, feeling his cock harden underneath his breeches. He wasn’t sure he would last very long, but he knew he wanted to savor this moment. Ruth was everything. So beautiful, so intelligent, so lively. She made him the happiest of men and made him harder than any other women he’d ever been with.
He pulled away and saw Ruth’s mouth slightly open. He moved her to the bed and laid her down upon it. She watched him lazily as he undid his clothing. He was hurried and frantic, but Ruth watched with eager interest.
Once he was unclothed, he laid down next to her and moved his hands from her waist to the apex of her thighs. “I want tae give ye all the pleasure in the world, lass.”
Ruth smiled. “You have already given so much, how can you do…” Ruth gasped as Troy moved down her body and placed his head between her thighs, his mouth on her lips. He did not reply, but simply lathed her with his tongue until she began to moan and pant, writhing underneath the onslaught of pleasure. “Troy!” she cried out, as he continued to lick and suck her center, filling her with a longing that she had not yet felt.
But suddenly, he moved away from her and laid on top of her, putting himself into position before plunging deeply into her. Ruth arched upward, groaning with pleasure. Troy continued to move, thrusting into his new wife as she followed his rhythm, clasping onto his back. He moved and leaned down to lick across her nipple and kiss her lips. There was no more beautiful sight than this: Ruth underneath him, moaning with pleasure at what he was giving her.
Soon, she flushed and cried out once more, shuddering with orgasm. He thrust hard a few more times before he too shuddered and laid down next to her.
Ruth reached over to lay a hand on his chest. She was still catching her breath and sweat glistened on her forehead. “Troy Ferguson. You have been keeping more secrets from me, I think.”
“Oh? Is that so?” Troy felt more satisfied than he had in a while, and he leaned back with his arms crooked under his head.
“Yes,” Ruth replied. “You did not say that you improved, as a lover, upon each encounter.”
Troy felt himself smile, and his heart filled with joy. He turned to her. “Och, I see. Well then, ye should consider yerself a lucky woman.”
“That I do. Again, and again.” She winked. “Also, when can we do that again?”
Troy laughed.
But there’s more…
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Afterword
Thank you for reading my novel, Capturing the Reluctant Highlander. I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did, could you please be so kind to write your review HERE?
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Lasses of the Kinnaird Castle
Book#1
Capturing the Highlander's Heart
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Book#2
Capturing a Highland Rogue
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Book#3 (this book)
Capturing the Reluctant Highlander
Do you want more Romance?
If you’re a true fan of the Scottish romance genre, here are the first chapters of the prequel to this story, which was my first best-selling novel: A Highlander Forged in Fire
This is the story of a fierce lass and a blacksmith Highlander with a mysterious birthmark. These two are connected, not only, by a fiery attraction, but also by deadly secrets and blood feuds. How will they manage to unlock mysteries of the past and save their love in the process?
* * *
A Highlander Forged in Fire
Prologue
Scottish Borders 1525
The border country, that no man’s land between the kingdoms of England and Scotland, was a wild and lawless place, the home of bandits and outlaws; a place which travelers feared and honest men were loath to tread, where forces loyal to the crown on both sides found themselves at odds with those who owed loyalty only to themselves. A place in which no man wished to linger, except for those who called it home.
The border clans kept an uneasy peace between themselves, a state of perpetual war existing with their southern neighbors. Theirs was a rule of law, which used the sword first and words second. Such had been the order of things these many centuries past. They knew only violence, raised to be warriors in that unforgiving world. A world of raids and skirmishes, death and disease, and the constant threat of attack.
It was a hard place, and those who lived upon the moors and marches of that lonely border were hardened men with little to cheer their souls. One such man was my father, Alistair Elliott, laird and master of the old castle at Kirklinton, a large imposing fortification, once a farmhouse, which had grown to be a formidable
defense against the English threat, He was a good man, but with a secret, one which took many years for me to discover, and caused much heartache in the process. Kirklinton was a wild place amidst the heathers, commanding a fine view across the English marshlands to the south and the Scottish hills to the north.
At this time, my father was thirty-two years old, though his browbeaten appearance and battle-scarred face made him appear much older. His wife, Ailsa, my mother, at least that is what I referred to her as, had born him no children, and with no heir to call his own, he had lost hope of seeing the name of Elliott continue after he was gone. My father was a warrior at heart, unforgiving, and hard upon his men. He was happiest when riding out to war, and it was often said that the Laird preferred the company of his sword to that of his wife. My mother was a hard woman, little given over to emotion, though I loved her dearly. After all, she was the only mother I had. But my father was angry with her for not bearing him a son, and when, for the fourth time, she failed to deliver the promised child, he flew into a rage and neglected the vows of his wedding day.
Capturing The Reluctant Highlander (Lasses 0f The Kinnaird Castle Book 3) Page 25
