by Ava McArthur
Elspeth could have gazed all day at the sight of Niall’s magnificent body. All around her stretched the splendor of the Scottish Highlands, the somber beauty of the Lochs, but she was transfixed by another kind of beauty.
Niall McLaren stood in the middle of the courtyard, wearing only his kilt and laughing with the man he had just beaten. His body was shining with sweat. It glistened on his broad shoulders, the flat rounds of his chest muscles with their dusting of dark hair, and ran in rivulets down his rippling stomach, then disappeared underneath his kilt. His mighty thigh and calf muscles were slick and shiny, and his dark chestnut hair was damp.
As she watched, he threw back his head to laugh at something one of the guards said, and caught Elspeth looking at him. She turned and bolted downstairs at once, intending to go to her own bedchamber and lock herself in, but he was too fast for her. Halfway along the first corridor she turned into, she found him standing like a colossus in front of her, blocking the entire width of the passage with his bulk.
She sighed and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “M’Laird?” she greeted him coldly, with a barely perceptible curtsy.
Niall took in the lovely form of his wife, surveying her shining golden hair, keen gray eyes, and full lips set in the perfect oval of her face. His eyes moved down to her full bosom and tiny waist, to her curved womanly hips and long legs, and he could feel his body respond to her. Indeed, he was helpless against the tide of desire that washed over him, and he clenched his hands into fists to stop himself from reaching out and hauling her into his arms.
“There is no need to be so formal, Elspeth. We have shared the most intimate experience a man and woman can share, but I upset you, and I am sorry...again.” He sighed and shook his head. “May I excuse myself by saying that my heart is still broken after Craig’s death? I am still upset, and I sometimes lash out, and it is usually at those who do not deserve it, like you. And, I like you. I felt guilty that I should be fond of my brother’s betrothed, and I talked myself into thinking I had somehow made it happen. I am a fool. ”
Gradually, the coldness disappeared from her eyes. She gave him a tentative smile. “You are not a fool, Niall,” she said quietly. “I should have been more aware of your feelings at a time like this.”
She moved forward and softly kissed him. He put his hands on her waist, suddenly aware that he was filthy, sweaty, and was probably making her clothes dirty. “I am afraid you must get used to this,” he said ruefully. “I am more often dirty than clean, Elspeth.”
Elspeth put the flat of her hand on his chest, and kissed its moist skin. “I have no objection to a little dirt,” she remarked, her eyes twinkling. She breathed in his musky, earthy scent, and a pulse of desire shot straight to her core. “Let me help you wash,” she said huskily.
His lips parted as he gazed down at her, and he smiled. “Milady McLaren, I would like nothing better.”
7
Learning to Be a Lady
Elspeth helped Niall wash by rubbing him down with a sea sponge, but neither of them could wait for him to be properly dry before he grabbed her again, threw her onto their bed, and dived on top of her, making her scream with alarm and delight. Their lovemaking was a very damp and very funny affair, and she giggled all the way through, except when she screamed his name in ecstasy.
Elspeth had had no idea that what went on between a man and a woman could be so hilarious, and she realized that she still had much to learn about lovemaking, her husband, and indeed, her own body. However, she was a very willing pupil, and had an equally willing teacher!
After dinner that evening, they sat in the parlor drinking wine and playing chess, at which they were fairly evenly matched, so each game was a contest of equals, making it the kind of competitive experience Niall loved.
“This is like warfare,” he remarked as he put away the board at the end of the evening’s play. “Without the bruises.”
Elspeth laughed. She had conceded defeat in the last game, but she wagged a finger at him as she gave him a stern warning about the next one. “Indeed!” she said grimly. “You may have won that battle, General, but the next one is mine!”
He laughed, hugged her, sat down beside her on the long couch, and put his head in her lap. She was surprised but pleased that he felt able to perform such an intimate gesture. They sat in silence, and after a while, she realized that he had fallen asleep. She passed her hand over the scratchy stubble on his cheek, and he twitched a smile. She began to stroke his hair, which caused him to snuggle more tightly against her. She laughed softly and kissed his forehead, thinking that being married was proving to be an interesting experience!
They had both staggered upstairs in the wee hours of the morning and flopped into bed utterly exhausted, so Elspeth was surprised to find herself alone when she woke up just as the sun was rising. Niall must have risen early to pursue some lairdly duties, and it occurred to her that now since she was mistress of the castle, she should do the same. She had lived in a castle before, although it had been nothing like the size of this one, and she knew that getting to know her servants, neighbors, and tenants would take some time.
She rose from bed and went to have breakfast. Afterward, she planned to seek out Lady Lorna and ask her to help her with the task of making herself familiar with her duties.
Accordingly, she put on one of the dowdy dresses she was beginning to hate and went to seek out Niall’s mother. She found her in her private parlor working on an embroidery and gave her a deep curtsy. “How are you today, milady?” she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic. “I know Niall is worried about you.”
Lorna stood up, and once again, Elspeth was struck by the resemblance between Niall and his mother. Her golden eyes gave Elspeth a faint smile, and Lorna bade her sit down while she poured them both a glass of ale. “I am as well as can be expected, my dear,” she replied. “But I see that my son has not yet taken up the work of the lairdship. He is still out hunting, and when he is not doing that, he is making war in the courtyard!”
“I thought he had gone to see some of his tenants today,” Elspeth said, frowning. “I was hoping to go with him.”
Lorna shook her head and sighed. “I thought that when Craig passed on, he would begin to take his responsibilities more seriously.” She sounded sad but also a little bitter. “But it seems that my son has only one thing on his mind—battle and war. Or perhaps he has other more pleasant occupations now? He seems much happier these days.”
Elspeth’s cheeks were crimson as she stared at her mother-in-law with eyes that were wide with shock. “Are you asking if we have consummated our marriage?” she asked in a voice that was little more than a squeak.
“Yes,” Lorna replied frankly, her gaze never leaving Elspeth’s. “That is exactly what I am asking.”
Elspeth was angry. “That is a very personal question, milady!” she snapped.
“Indeed, it is,” Lady McLaren agreed. “But I need to be assured that there is the chance of an heir, and that is, unfortunately, a personal matter that concerns me too.”
Elspeth sighed. Here was another duty she had to perform; another order to be obeyed. Marry. Consummate. Get with child. Would it ever end? “Yes, milady,” she replied tersely. “The marriage has been consummated. We are now truly man and wife.”
“Good!” Lorna gave her a satisfied smile. “I am sorry, Elspeth, but I need to know these things. The succession is in your hands, you see. I want to see a grandchild in your womb before the year ends.”
“I assure you, I want the same thing, milady.” Elspeth’s tone had softened a little. “Niall is a very attractive man, and we have no difficulty with our relationship, so be at ease.”
There was a tense silence between them for a while. Elspeth was just about to stand up and excuse herself when Lorna put down her sewing and held out her hand. “We are going to be together for a long while, I hope. It is time we got to know each other.” She held out her hand. “Come, Elspeth. I will int
roduce you to some of our most important staff. The castle could not run without them.”
Elspeth took Lorna’s hand and they descended the stairs together. To her surprise, Lorna did not let go of it all the time that they were together; she took it as a good sign.
Lorna led Elspeth down to the kitchen, which she told her was the beating heart of the castle. The staff jumped to attention when they saw Lorna, but it was not long before she put them at ease.
“We have all known each other for a very long time,” Lorna told Elspeth. “This is Mistress MacPherson, the cook. The cook’s position has been handed down from mother to daughter for hundreds of years, and I daresay it will be for hundreds more!”
Mrs. Baxter laughed and curtsied to Elspeth. She was a small, round woman with black button eyes and white hair. “We a’ said what a fine-lookin’ lass the young laird had married, milady,” she said warmly, her chubby face smiling. “I hope we will see some wee ladies an’ lairds soon.” She winked.
Elspeth returned the smile but was inwardly seething. Was this all that was expected of her? To breed for the clan?
She pasted a smile on her face as Lorna led her to the stables, the buttery, the brewery, the butchery, and the stores, and she was completely daunted by how much there was to take in; by the time they were on their way back to the parlor, her head was spinning.
Lorna laughed at her expression and patted her on the back. “You will get used to it, my dear,” she promised. “I felt the same way when I first came here.”
Suddenly the sun came out, and as if to reflect the brightness of the day, her heart lifted with happiness. She had seen marriage to Niall as a penance, but now she could see a possibility of them being happy together. They had argued, but then all couples argued—it was part of life. She resolved to make her marriage happy, whatever it took.
As they walked back to Lorna’s private parlor, they saw Maggie, the wise woman, coming towards them. She smiled and curtsied when she reached them.
“Have you met Maggie?” Lady Lorna asked, smiling.
Maggie was a small woman in her thirties with bright blue eyes and beautiful wheat blonde hair. She had small pointed features and reminded Elspeth of a little mouse.
“Very briefly,” Elspeth replied. “We did not get a chance to talk much. Who are you treating today? I hope it is nothing serious.”
Maggie laughed. “No, Milady Elspeth,” she replied. “I attend people an’ animals alike—whoever needs me. I am tendin’ a prize bull the day. We cannae have such an important big boy oot o’ action! The cows will a’ be complainin’!”
They laughed. “I am so glad to hear it!” Elspeth said, relieved.
“Congratulations an’ a’ the best on yer marriage, milady,” Maggie said warmly. “I must confess I never thought I would see the day when Niall would get himsel’ wed. I am that happy for ye, milady.”
“Thank you, Maggie. He is a fine man and I am very fortunate. I am sure we will be happy together.”
“An’ fruitful, I hope, milady?” Maggie asked slyly.
Elspeth was starting to get annoyed. Was that all anyone could think about? She pasted an insincere smile on her face. “From your lips to God’s ears,” she replied.
Never let it be said that I am not doing my best! she thought mutinously.
“I will be here tae tend tae ye when the time comes,” Maggie assured her. “Well, if ye will excuse me, miladies, a large beast needs me!” She curtsied and hurried away.
“Maggie is a very good lady,” Lorna remarked, her eyes following the healer. “She is almost part of the family since she has been looking after us for nigh on twenty years. You could find no one better to help you with your first birth.”
Elspeth gritted her teeth. “Milady,” she said, trying to inject a note of politeness into her voice, “had I not better conceive the child first?”
8
The Elders Arrive
Niall knew that at some point, he would have to start doing the work that was expected of him and stop leaving it all to his estate chief, but it was hard to get out of bed in the morning now. It meant that he had to leave the warmth of his wife’s luscious body and go to the study, the courtyard, the stables, or any of the other hundred places he had to be. It was more than any red-blooded man should have to bear, he thought.
As well as that, responsibility did not sit well on his shoulders. He was not interested in balancing the estate’s books, or in visiting the tenants, or going to markets to buy livestock. He could employ people to do these mundane tasks while he did the two things he enjoyed most: fighting and making love to Elspeth.
At first, Lorna thought that as the weeks went by, her son would gradually grow into his new role, but it did not seem to be happening that way. If anything, Niall’s wild ways were becoming worse. She had tried to speak to him about it, but he always procrastinated and told her he would do it the next day, which of course, never came. Lorna had hinted to Elspeth that perhaps she could have a word with him, and she promised to try.
One morning at breakfast, she brought the subject up. “Your mother says you should take more interest in the tenants,” she suggested cautiously. “Perhaps you can visit them. I would like to meet them too.”
Niall screwed up his face in a comical expression she had come to love. “The weather is cold today,” he pointed out, indicating the dark gray clouds outside.
“This is Scotland,” she countered quickly. “The weather is always cold.”
“I am not feeling too well,” he replied, beginning to become desperate.
Elspeth put a hand on his forehead to test his temperature. “You do not have a fever,” she told him. “You feel fine to me, and you were perfectly sound when you almost knocked Stuart unconscious in the courtyard just now. Do not lie to me. You are as healthy as a horse.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, then his face grew sad, and he sighed. “I don’t want to see the tenants, Elspeth. They were used to Craig, and they loved him.”
“They can grow to love you too,” she insisted, her voice stern. “You must start somewhere, Niall. Please.”
He nodded slowly. “You are right, my clever wife,” he agreed. “I am such a coward! I can face armed men on the battlefield, but I quiver in the face of peasant farmers.” He sighed, shaking his head slowly.
She put her arms around his neck and gave him a soft kiss. “A coward is the last thing you are. Never say that.”
He groaned. “Please don’t kiss me, or I will never get out of here except to drag you up to our bedroom!”
She leaped up from the table and grinned at him. “I am going to visit Maggie today. She has a new perfumed oil for my bath that she says is distilled from cinnamon and cloves. I asked her for lavender, but she says it is too common for a lady. So goodbye, Husband. I will see you later in the day.”
“Do I not get a kiss?” he asked plaintively.
“You just had one,” she replied, her eyes twinkling. “I will give you some more later—but only if you are good!”
Niall and Stuart had just come in from a profitable early morning rabbit hunt and were about to sit down to their generous breakfast when a maid came to deliver the news that Colm McLaren and a few of his cohorts were on their way to see him.
“Damn!” Niall growled. He was not thrilled to be summoned to the Great Hall by Colm McLaren and two of the other senior clan members on a bitterly cold morning at the beginning of May.
As usual, spring in the Highlands was dragging its feet, and he was freezing. An hour or so of wrestling should have taken care of that, but now he had to go through the tedious business of dealing with his visitors. He had no idea why his presence was required; in his opinion, it was just another exercise the clan elders practiced to show everyone how important they were.
He went into the hall, where his mother was sitting beside Colm, laughing at something he was saying. As he looked at her, he realized that she was still a beautiful woman. Perhaps that was why C
olm was always so eager to visit. He felt a surge of rage; his brother was hardly cold in his grave, for God’s sake—she needed a decent time to mourn.
He bowed courteously to the elders, who stood and bowed in return, then he sighed deeply and sat down, hoping he would not fall asleep before the meeting was over.
Colm gave him a wintry smile. “Laird Niall, I have come here at your mother’s behest. She says that she has tried everything in her power to persuade you to shoulder your responsibilities, and it seems that you are extremely reluctant. Do you feel unable to do the duties of a laird?”
Niall glowered at him. “Of course not!” he shouted. “That would imply that I am stupid, and that is one thing I cannot be accused of!”
“Ah!” Colm said, nodding as if in understanding. “Then, I can only assume that you are afraid.”
Niall bristled. “The last man who called me a coward had his front teeth knocked out and his nose smashed to a pulp!” He stood up and bent over the elder, who drew back a little. Even though Colm McLaren had several armed guards with him, Niall’s presence was intimidating. His bunched fists looked like clubs, and his expression was thunderous.
Colm cleared his throat. “We can relieve you of your burden altogether, of course,” he offered. “The clan can take the lairdship away from you, M’Laird, and replace you with your cousin Drew. Or Bruce. Or Iain. Perhaps they would be better suited for the position.”
