Clara’s Vow

by Madeline Martin

  “Aye, ye can.” Clara edged even closer to him, bringing the proximity between them to something more intimate. “I’m here. And ye’re here. And we’ve our whole lives stretched ahead of us.”

  The familiar beat of desire thrummed through her veins, only this time she did not have to fight it or let a wave of guilt follow in its wake. She was a wife, a woman who was free to be loved by her husband.

  And that was just what she intended to do.

  She put her hands to his broad chest, pushed up on her toes and pressed her lips to his. “Love me, husband,” she whispered against his lips.

  “I already do,” he said softly.

  Her heart fluttered at such precious words.

  She leaned slightly back to regard him, her expression intentionally earnest, so he would know how genuine she was in her request. “Do not pull from me at the last moment.” Her fingers skimmed over the padded squares of his gambeson, knowing he would understand what she meant. “Please.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. “If something were to happen to me, Clara, I canna leave ye and a bairn—”

  “If something happened to ye,” she said. “Which I do not believe it will, then I…” Saying such words aloud was far greater a difficulty than she had anticipated they would be. “I would want yer babe, a part of ye, that I would always have to remember ye by,” she finished, her voice cracked with the power of her emotion.

  Reid smoothed the hair back from her face and nodded. “If that is what ye wish.”

  “I do,” she breathed. “And come back to me so we can build our cottage and have our bairns. Together.”

  He drew her into his arms and kissed her soundly. For now, this one night would have to be enough.

  Reid couldn’t promise he would return from the fight. No one knew where fate would cast its dice on the battlefield.

  What he could promise was to love her in the time they had. To show her his appreciation for the way she made him feel, for the bliss she brought into his life. He brushed his tongue against hers, cherishing the sweet taste of her, and reveling in her clean, floral scent as it enveloped him.

  He pulled at the ties of his gambeson as he kissed her and shrugged out of the heavy garment. Her hands moved over his thin leine with an eagerness he understood all too well.

  They had been hurried before, still nearly entirely dressed and on the damp floor of a forest. While they were now in a finely appointed room in a castle—this was exactly what she deserved. Luxury, beauty, warmth and comfort.

  He tugged at the bow at the back of her kirtle, his fingers working at the woven wool. A breathy exhale sighed from her lips as she leaned her head back to offer the creamy expanse of her neck and chest.

  With a groan, he leaned over her, his mouth grazing her skin as he admired at the way pleasure washed over her in a delicate, rosy hue. Once her gown was loosened, he skimmed his hand first over her right shoulder and then her left to sweep the kirtle from her body.

  The heavy blue wool pooled at her feet, leaving her in only her shift, her nipples standing in peaks against the thick fabric. He tugged his leine off, revealing himself before revealing her.

  Her breath came more quickly, and her gaze glided down his body. He squared his shoulders, indulgently flexing his hard-won muscles for his wife. She sucked in a breath, and when her eyes returned to his, they were bright with desire.

  He reached for the ribbon at the center of her chemise and pulled. It gave with a soft pop as the bow slipped free. His fingertips caressed her graceful neck, down over the swell of her breasts to the edge of her chemise, which he caught as he drew his touch across her bosom.

  The simple, loose garment slid down her shoulders and pooled at her feet, joining her kirtle. She wore only her stockings now, tied just over her knees. Reid let his stare wander over her beautiful body, something he hadn’t had the privilege of doing when they were together in the forest.

  Seeing her now, blushing and bare and eager, was more than worth the wait.

  Her skin was smooth and flawless, her thighs slender with a triangle of dark hair at the apex. His gaze traced up the curve of her hips to her slim waist to where her breasts rose high and proud on her chest.

  She was even more beautiful than he had imagined. And he had imagined her. Quite often, in fact. But never had he thought he would actually see her thus, let alone that she would become his wife.

  “Clara.” Her name came out on a low groan.

  She shyly looked away, but he tenderly brought her face back to him. “Ye’re the bonniest lass in all of Scotland.”

  Her cheeks and lips were rosy, from his kisses and her own reticence.

  “And ye’re my wife.” He cupped the back of her head and kissed her deeply, his body aching from his need to feel the heat of her naked skin against his.

  His free hand glided up her waist and to her breast, where he brushed the pink tip of her nipple with his thumb. She moaned into his mouth.

  In the forest, they hadn’t had the time to explore one another, to relish the many aspects of intimacy. Now, their mission had been properly seen to, and they had only to wait on the English to attack. Though he was loathe to think it, in the back of his mind, he acknowledged that this could well be the last time he was ever with Clara.

  He intended to enjoy it for every moment.

  His mouth moved down her chin, her neck, not stopping his descent until his lips parted over her nipple. She cried out and wrapped her arms around him to hold him closer as he loved the pert bud with his tongue.

  Once the little nub strained taut against his mouth, he shifted to the other one, circling and flicking over it as she sighed with obvious enjoyment. His hands caressed her smooth skin, over the flare of her hips and back to cradle her round bottom. Their bodies pressed together, so the force of his arousal strained against her stomach.

  With an excited gasp, she arched herself against him. The meeting of their pelvises sent prickles of delight racing over Reid’s body.

  This time would be different. This time there would be no pain for Clara, only pleasure.

  He straightened to claim her lips once more as his hand dipped between her legs, tracing the slit of her sex, where she was wet and ready. Her knees buckled, but he held fast to her with his free hand and teased his touch over her again and again until her breath came in shaky pants.

  There was so much more he wanted to do with her, so much more affection to give.

  He slid a finger inside her. Her lashes fluttered.

  He eased back, watching her face as the digit carefully thrust inside the grip of her sheath. Her eyes held his, heavy-lidded as she issued forth a soft moan.

  His prick was near-bursting with the longing to take her.

  His wife.

  His.

  She had helped him see how he was being held back by his pain. How in his hate, he had forgotten to see love. He saw it now in her, in what they shared, in how she made him feel.

  Not just passion, but the need to always be with her, to protect her and care for her.

  He swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed, where he laid her on the fine velvet coverlet and kissed her ardently. She would know how greatly he loved her by the attention he gave her this night and always.

  She pushed up on her forearms to meet him halfway; her chin angled upward to return his kisses better. But he backed away from her, issuing little kisses and licks down her body, past her breasts to the slight dip of her navel.

  She studied him as he moved lower, her ice-blue eyes burning like fire. He parted her thighs where they draped over the bed, exposing her sex, swollen and wet with need.

  “Reid,” she said hesitantly.

  “Trust me,” he murmured and leaned forward.

  “Why—”

  He traced her sex with his tongue, and the question died on her lips as she found out exactly what he meant to do.

  16

  The pleasure was overwhelming. Clara’s arms gave out, an
d she sank back on the soft mattress. Reid continued to move between her legs, his mouth hot, his tongue…sinful.

  Sinful, and exquisite where he licked at her sex. Cries and gasps of delight escaped from her lips, and she clutched at the coverlet beneath her, the velvet incredibly soft against her palms and naked back while she writhed with need.

  He nudged a finger inside her as he continued to lick and tease. His ministrations were going from long strokes to short, fast flicks that made her whimper. Her core tightened as it had in the forest, and her skin tingled in anticipation. Between her thighs, Reid increased the pace of his attentions until heat prickled at her palms.

  All at once, her body released the tension in an explosion of pleasure that made her feel as though she were soaring into the heavens. Light and heat and the most wondrous waves of euphoria washed over her.

  He grinned up at her. “Did ye enjoy that?”

  She laughed, giddy. “I don’t think ye even need to ask.”

  He gave a playful shrug.

  “Aye.” She reached for him to draw him up to standing. “I enjoyed it very much.”

  As he got to his feet, his hands went to the ties of his trews where the thick column of his arousal strained against the fabric. The thrill of his intimate kisses still hummed warmly between her thighs, and the sight of his hardened sex made her ache anew with desire.

  He tugged at the ties slowly, and his arousal jutted out as the flap of his trews fell open. She still recalled how his arousal had felt in her hand, steel and silk all at once, hot with lust. Before she could reach for him, he crawled over the top of her, his gaze drifting up her body appreciatively as he did so.

  In truth, she had been somewhat anxious to have him see her naked. No one had seen her in such a state since she was a babe. But the way he stared at her with open admiration, the way his hands constantly stroked and glided over her, he managed to strip away all her insecurities and left her feeling entirely beautiful.

  Their mouths met in a tender kiss as his body stretched out over hers. The dark auburn hair that dotted his thighs and chest, and grew thick around his sex, rasped over her skin in the most tantalizing way. She parted her thighs to accommodate his weight, to cradle him against her.

  His arousal lay heavy where it rested against her belly. But he didn’t move to push between her legs. Nay, instead, he held her, kissing her. “Clara,” he murmured. “My bonny wife.”

  “Reid.” She looked up at him, her body on fire with longing, her heart aglow. “I love ye.”

  He smoothed her hair back and kissed her again, deeper, hungrier. He altered his position ever so slightly, and the tip of his sex nudged against her. She moaned against his lips and arched upward, eager for their bodies to join.

  The light nudge became more of a push and he entered her with ease. This time, there was no pain, only the wonderful full feel of their bodies connecting, of their two selves becoming one.

  She curled her legs around him, drawing him deeper inside her as he began to thrust. Warm tingles of bliss spread through her at the meeting of their pelvises. Reid’s groan sounded in her ear as his pace quickened. She matched his rhythm, rocking her hips to meet each flex of his.

  He shifted so the angle of their joining rubbed at the top of her sex, increasing the sensations in her core as it tightened with yet another impending release. Reid gave a little growl and plunged faster, harder, sending her over the edge.

  Clara threw her head back, crying out with the intensity of her enjoyment. Her sex spasmed around his as his hips jerked against her, and he groaned tightly through gritted teeth. This time, he did not pull from her as he spilled his seed. Nay, she experienced every spasm of his pleasure inside her, as he did hers around him.

  Just as she had asked him.

  She truly did have all of him.

  He smiled tenderly at her and brushed a lock of hair from where it had fallen over her shoulder. “I love ye, Clara MacLeod.”

  “And I love ye, my husband.”

  “Thank ye for showing me that I could be happy,” he said.

  “And ye are?” She couldn’t stop smiling up at him. “Happy?”

  “Blissful.” He nuzzled her nose with his and pressed his lips to hers. “I dinna know how I have been fortunate enough to end up with a woman like ye.”

  “Oh?” she teased.

  “Aye.” He withdrew from her and rolled languidly onto his side. “Bonny, kind, patient beyond all measure.”

  “Beyond on all measure?” She nestled against him. “I don’t know about all that.”

  “Ye are, though.” He ran a finger over her arm, tracing an invisible pattern over her skin. “I spent the better part of my life trying to learn to control my anger. I had so much after…”

  He stopped, but she understood. What he had experienced was more than anyone should ever have to go through. Let alone a child. He truly had lost everything in that one moment at the hands of the English.

  “Most would be angry.” Clara put her hand over his heart as if she could leach away the pain that still resided there. For she wished she could draw it out like an infection and he would never again have to feel its obvious discomfort.

  “Should I see Lord Rottry again, I dinna know if I can suppress that rage,” he admitted. “But I’ve no’ seen or heard of him ever since that day.”

  Lord Rottry.

  Dread prickled down her spine.

  The name was familiar. One of the men who had attacked them a week ago had mentioned it.

  “And ye want to find him?” Clara tried to keep her tone casual.

  Reid shook his head. “Ye need no’ worry, my love. I’ll no’ go wandering all over Scotland to find him. I’ve done that to no avail.”

  “But if ye knew he was somewhere near here?” Clara asked hesitantly.

  The glow of post-coital bliss on his face faded, and his expression hardened. “Why are ye asking me this, Clara?”

  “I’ve heard that name before,” she whispered.

  His heartbeat beneath her fingers thudded harder. “Where?”

  “The men who attacked us a sennight ago,” she replied. “They said Lord Rottry would hear of us and what we’d done to his men…” Her voice tapered off at the high color rising in Reid’s cheeks.

  She had done the right thing in telling him the truth. She knew she had. But still, the twist inside her gut made her wish she had lied.

  After all this time, Reid was close to Lord Rottry. The world took a sheen of red as fury thundered in Reid’s blood.

  “Did they say where they were staying?” he asked. “Where they were going?”

  She shook her head. “Only one man remained and said he’d ensure Lord Rottry knew what we did to his men. That’s all that was said. I didn’t know the significance of who he was.”

  Reid’s hand curled into a fist. In truth, he’d wondered in the last years if the bastard was even still alive. Now he knew for certes. There was still an opportunity to kill the whoreson, to make him pay for what he’d done to Reid’s family.

  “Reid?” There was a note of fear in Clara’s voice.

  He glanced down at his new wife. He wanted to reassure her, to tell her there was nothing to worry about. But he couldn’t. Not now when he knew how close he was to vengeance. He could still picture the man in his mind’s eye, overproud and bored with murder, and his fine blue tunic with its golden-yellow sun.

  Aye, Reid would know him anywhere. Even with nearly twenty years between the memory and the man he was now.

  And he might well have his chance. If the English were all coming to Dumbarton, Lord Rottry and his men would doubtless be among them.

  Reid pushed up from the bed to clean and dress. A battle was nigh, and he would not be late.

  “Reid,” Clara said. “Please don’t do anything rash…”

  “I’ve been looking for this man for almost twenty years, Clara,” he said. “Twenty years. His men slaughtered my da and burned my mum and Ewan to death. My
entire family. They were good people, honest and hardworking and bloody innocent.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and pulled at a fragile place in his chest.

  “I don’t want to lose ye to yer need for vengeance.” She reached for him.

  He allowed her to grab his hand and then drew her against him. “I love ye, Clara. No’ anything will change that. But ye must understand this is something I have to do. I must avenge my family. That bastard stole my entire life.”

  She nodded against his chest. “Promise me ye’ll be safe.”

  “Aye, I’ll no’ take any foolish risks.” He tilted her head up. “I’ll come home to ye.”

  The long, low call of a horn sounded in the distance. The enemy was approaching.

  This was it.

  The English were attacking. And there was a good chance that Lord Rottry would be among them.

  Reid’s heart hammered against his ribs. He went to the window overlooking the village and unlatched the shutters. They flew inward, blown back by a terrible wind that carried a reminder that winter was not long past.

  He faced the wind as though it had personally challenged him and looked out into the black night. Clara joined him with a sheet wrapped about her like a mantle, pressing close to him. He put an arm around her slender body, and together they watched by cloudy moonlight the cluster of men roll over the hills and sweep toward the village.

  Immediately, he released Clara with a tender kiss to her brow and went to dress. He would not stand by as the army slaughtered villagers. Energy flowed through his limbs and made him feel strong enough to slam his way through stone. It was always this way at the onset of battle. An unholy strength consumed him when he fought.

  It made his blade fly fast and true; its hit usually fatal.

  Mayhap that was why he was as successful a warrior as he was. Or mayhap it was that he’d never really had anything to lose before.

  Such was not the case anymore. Now he had everything to lose.

  He glanced to where Clara stood by the window, still looking out, her fingers in a white-knuckled grip on the sheet around her.