The Bride Chooses a Highlander

by Adrienne Basso

Not wanting to break the physical contact, Katherine rested her head on Lachlan’s shoulder, her cheek pressed against the strong bone. It was covered in a fine sheen of sweat and she breathed in the tangy scent of sex and intimacy, reveling in the moment.

  He finally lifted his head, then took her fingers and brought them to his lips. “Are ye well?”

  “Aye. Wonderful. Glorious. Awed, sated, and sticky,” she said with a giddy laugh.

  “Me too.” Lachlan sat up and slipped out of the bed, returning with a basin filled with water and a small cloth. “Fer ye, milady.”

  “Thank ye.” Grateful, and slightly embarrassed by Lachlan’s forethought, Katherine stood, dipped the linen into the water, wrung it out, then turned her back and washed herself.

  When she was finished, Katherine handed the cloth to Lachlan. She watched beneath lowered lids as he swirled the cloth over his chest, arms, and finally between his legs.

  “I’m sorry the water is so cold,” he said when he was finished.

  “’Twas soothing,” Katherine admitted, flashing him a sheepish grin.

  “Wait!” Lachlan held up his hand to stop her from climbing back into the bed. “Our bodies are not the only thing that needs to be washed. I asked Brother Gregory to give me another sheet, so we may slumber in comfort.”

  ’Twas then Katherine noticed the specs of red marring the white linen—her virgin’s blood. Working together, they removed the stained linen and replaced it with the fresh one.

  “We need to keep it,” Katherine declared, folding the soiled linen and holding it close to her heart. “’Tis proof that we have consummated our marriage, proof that we have an unbreakable union.”

  Lachlan shook his head. “Sheets streaked with blood prove naught. On a wedding night they are easily fabricated using a cut on the body in a place not seen or a vial of animal blood.” Lachlan gently removed the linen from Katherine’s hands. “Yer family will believe we are in truth married and I shall attest to yer purity if Drummond or any of his kin dares to question our word.”

  “I want nothing to challenge the validity of our marriage,” Katherine said.

  Lachlan tilted her face to his. “One look at yer glowing, contented face and everyone will know exactly what has passed between us.”

  Katherine worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “Will it be enough? I confess to being pleased there were none here to conduct a bedding ceremony, but one would have provided the required proof that the marriage has been consummated. The few bedding ceremonies I have witnessed were torturous fer the couple, especially the bride, but they made certain the marriage could not be challenged.”

  Lachlan shrugged and climbed onto the newly made bed. “A bedding ceremony is mild compared to the English practice of consummating the marriage while others stay within the chamber, so they can testify the act has been completed.”

  “Nay!” Katherine exclaimed in horror. “What couple would allow such an embarrassing thing? And what sort of person would want to witness such an intimate, private act? Ye’re jesting.”

  “’Tis the God’s honest truth,” Lachlan insisted. “The bed curtains are closed during the consummation, so the witnesses cannae gawk.”

  “Och, but they can hear.” Katherine shuddered.

  “Far more than one wants.”

  “Ye attended one of these?” she asked, her voice hitching in shock.

  “Aye. Not by choice. The bride was English, the groom a Scotsman.”

  “And the English have the nerve to call the Scots barbarians,” Katherine remarked with a cluck of her tongue.

  Lachlan rose to his knees and extended his hand. “From this day forward, I vow that none shall be allowed to gawk at yer lovely naked form or listen to yer cries of passion except me.”

  With a smile, Katherine accepted his hand and climbed in beside him. “And none shall gaze upon yer splendid physique or hear yer groans and grunts of ecstasy except me.”

  “Groans and grunts of ecstasy?” Lachlan repeated, lifting a brow.

  Katherine fought off a giggle. “Aye. They are most inspiring, Husband.”

  “Minx!” He swatted playfully at her rump, but she dodged his hand and instead landed a blow on his backside. With a mocking growl, he captured her in his arms and pulled her beneath the covers.

  Katherine shrieked with laughter and struggled against his hold. His arms were like iron. She pushed against them with all her strength, yet was unable to free herself. Tiring from her efforts, she surrendered to the inevitable, and snuggled against his chest.

  It felt heavenly to be in his arms. Safe, protected, cherished. The candlelight flickered against the fabric of the tent. The air was cool, but it was warm and cozy beneath the covers, with their mingled body heat.

  Taking a deep breath, Katherine allowed her mind to rest and soon found herself falling into the safe, peaceful darkness of sleep.

  * * *

  Lachlan pressed his back against the rough headboard and pulled Katherine against him so that her head rested on his naked chest, over his heart. She draped herself over him like a luscious blanket, her right leg thrown carelessly over his thigh. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, her expression was one of pure contentedness and utter relaxation and her deep even breaths filled the tent.

  Alas, an equally peaceful slumber eluded Lachlan. He curled his arm around her waist and attempted to shift her to his side. She moaned in protest and burrowed closer, tickling the hair on his chest with her nose. From this angle, he could see the soft, round side of her delicious plump breast peeking through the rough linen sheet, the nipple pink and tight.

  Though so recently and thoroughly sated, Lachlan could feel his body stirring again with desire at the sight. Telling himself he was strong enough to resist the temptation, Lachlan stroked her naked back lightly, savoring the smooth, silken skin.

  He shifted his body lower, placing his head on the pillow. With a sigh, Lachlan closed his eyes, removing the sight of her luscious sweetness, hoping that would cool his ardor.

  It didn’t work. In his mind’s eye he recalled every detail of their lovemaking—the sounds of her moans of pleasure, the salty taste of her excitement, the feel of her muscles tightening around him as he thrust deeply inside her.

  His body responded to the memories of their recent encounter with the speed of lightning. Lachlan’s breath hitched, his cock pulsed. He rocked his hips in a slow rhythm, creating a smooth pressure against the top of her thighs that soon had his breath quickening.

  How she had managed to so quickly and thoroughly spark his desire was a true puzzlement. Bloody hell, the woman was sound asleep, yet still she tempted him beyond measure!

  ’Twas true that before tonight it had been many months since he last bedded a woman. Their earlier coupling should have taken the sharp edges off his passion.

  Instead, it had only increased it.

  ’Twould be cruel to wake her. She was exhausted from the days of hard riding, emotionally spent from today’s life-altering events. He smiled in the darkness, remembering the hard riding they had just done together.

  Nay, he would be a considerate husband and not break her slumber. However, if she awoke on her own . . .

  Craning his neck, Lachlan found her lips and took them in a kiss. Soft, gentle, unrushed. Katherine moaned, the lovely sound coming from deep inside her throat and vibrating against his lips. Encouraged, Lachlan trailed his fingers over her breasts, grazing the nipple.

  Katherine’s breath hissed into his mouth and she deepened their kiss, thrusting her lower body enthusiastically toward him. His already stiff penis grew harder and the ache in his balls made him squeeze his eyes shut.

  He’d worried that she might need coaxing to make love again, but her eagerness quickly dispensed that thought and heightened his craving.

  Impatience thundering in his blood, Lachlan rolled Katherine onto her back. Her legs parted in invitation and her hips rocked back and forth against his groin. Nuzzling her neck, he sli
pped one finger inside her, pleased to find her passage slick and ready. Catching her hips between his hands, he lifted her.

  She released a long, shuddering moan when he entered her, curling her arms around his shoulders.

  “Are ye sore? Does it hurt?” he inquired in a concerned voice, wondering where he would find the strength to withdraw if she asked.

  “Not as before. I’m a bit tender—nay, dinnae stop!”

  This time he loved her slowly, drawing out the pleasure with long, deep strokes of his body. She stared up at him in wonder, arching beneath him with each thrust, bringing herself closer to him. Yet it was not just their flesh joining. There was a spiritual, emotional communication between them that transcended the physical.

  Time and again they surged together, moving as one. Her sobbing cry of release spurred his passion to new heights. Lachlan felt his body seize and pulse and he lost his breath in the storm of his fulfillment. She held him tightly through the last lingering shudders. Thoroughly spent, he collapsed on top of her.

  “I’m crushing ye,” he murmured in apology, praying she wouldn’t agree. For if she did, Lachlan would be obliged to move and the feeling had not yet returned to his limbs. Would it ever?

  She laughed, deep and throaty in his ear. “Ye are still inside me. I forbid ye to move until all of ye leaves me.”

  “Ye are a wicked wench, Katherine MacTavish,” he said with a delighted laugh, allowing his fingers to dance down her skin.

  “Be honest. ’Tis one of the reasons ye married me,” she said with a smug smile.

  “’Tis true. I like wicked women.”

  “As I predicted, we are a well-suited pair,” she declared.

  Laughing again, Lachlan shifted to his side, bringing Katherine with him. She nuzzled close and he was pleased at how easily and trustingly she relaxed in his arms.

  “Try to rest,” he said, placing a kiss upon her brow. “Tomorrow we arrive at McKenna Castle. If I’ve learned anything about yer father from ye and Graham, it will be a difficult day. Fer all of us.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sight that greeted them when they rode through the large village at the base of McKenna Castle caused Lachlan’s brows to rise. It looked as though the entire clan had turned out to welcome Katherine home. They lined the streets, leaned out of second-story windows, and crowded onto the parapets, shouting and cheering, calling out blessings and thanks for her safe return.

  Graham and Katherine rode at the head of the procession, weaving their way slowly through the sea of people until they reached the imposing castle gates. Katherine glanced over her shoulder at Lachlan, signaling him to move forward. He spurred his mount, pushing his way past a brooding Drummond and the McKenna guards that surrounded her.

  Lachlan deftly placed himself at Katherine’s side and they rode together into the bailey. He could almost feel the touch of hundreds of eyes staring curiously at him as they made their way toward the group gathered in front of the entrance to the great hall.

  A tall, middle-aged, broad-shouldered warrior stood in the center. Clearly, he was Katherine’s father. He carried an air of absolute control, leadership, and supremacy. Even at his advanced age, the man was a formidable, battle-hardened sight.

  Laird McKenna was flanked on either side by a woman. The older female was easily identified as Katherine’s mother—the resemblance was striking. The younger female, well, Lachlan was uncertain who she might be, though he conceded that her blond beauty was extraordinary and breathtaking.

  Two children clung to her skirts, a lass and a younger lad. Both the women and children were smiling broadly, waving as the riders approached.

  However, one look at Laird McKenna’s thunderous expression told Lachlan that Katherine’s father had a very different feeling about his daughter’s return. He glared like an angry bull preparing to charge. Lachlan swore if he looked close enough he could see a rise of steam billowing from the laird’s nostrils as he snorted in anger.

  Lachlan glanced at Graham, wondering exactly what details Katherine’s brother had included in the message he sent to his father announcing that Katherine had been found and was on her way home. All Lachlan did know was that her refusal to honor her betrothal to Hamish Drummond was to be mentioned—her marriage to Lachlan was to be excluded.

  Despite Katherine’s pleas to the contrary, Lachlan had insisted the marriage not be revealed. Laird McKenna was a man who respected honor. Marrying his daughter without his permission was hardly an honorable act and Lachlan felt the best course was to reveal the news in person.

  However, when Laird McKenna crossed his arms over his broad chest and pointedly glared at him, Lachlan wondered if somehow Katherine’s father knew the truth. Knew, and was far from pleased about it.

  The cheers grew louder when the group on horseback reached the family welcoming party. Lachlan dismounted quickly and turned to Katherine. Her fingers lingered on his chest when he assisted her down from her horse, a tactile reminder of the intimacy they had shared, the bond that now existed between them. It boosted his courage.

  As they had agreed, Lachlan draped a shawl of MacTavish plaid that he carried over Katherine’s shoulders before she turned to face her sire. The McKenna’s eyebrows rose when he spied the garment, his expression narrowing.

  “Why are ye wearing that plaid, Daughter?” he demanded.

  “Katherine is my wife,” Lachlan answered, loud enough so that those around them could hear. “I am Laird Lachlan MacTavish and I’m proud and honored to have her wear our clan colors.”

  Lachlan felt the McKenna’s critical stare sweep over him. “Yer wife?”

  “Aye.” Lachlan nodded his head twice for emphasis, boldly meeting the challenge of the McKenna’s gaze.

  Katherine also nodded, sliding her arm through Lachlan’s and looking up at him with an expression of pride. The McKenna shifted his eyes to his daughter for a brief moment, then glared back at Lachlan.

  “Daughter!” Lady Aileen caught Katherine’s hand, leaned in, kissed each cheek, and then tightly hugged her. “Finally, ye are home. Many feared the worst, but I refused to accept that anything dire would befall ye.”

  A look of contrition bloomed on Katherine’s face. “I’m deeply sorry fer causing ye worry.”

  “’Tis forgiven,” Lady Aileen said with a sniffle and another hug.

  “Father?” Katherine looked over at the McKenna. His mouth twitched, yet he remained unapproachable. Katherine sighed and lowered her gaze repentantly to the ground.

  “We are all so relieved that ye are safely returned to us at last.” Breaking the awkward tension, the stunning blond woman came forward and embraced Katherine. As she lifted her arms, the material of her gown stretched over her figure and Lachlan could see the distinct, telltale bulge of pregnancy.

  “Thank ye, Joan,” Katherine replied. “I am pleased to be here with my new husband.”

  Lachlan smiled at the dazzling woman who was introduced to him as Malcolm McKenna’s wife. He had heard tales of the tart-tongued beauty who had captured the heart of Katherine’s eldest brother and was surprised to discover the stories had not been an exaggeration. Lady Joan truly was breathtaking.

  The children scampered excitedly toward Katherine. She knelt, threw her arms wide, and enfolded them both in a hug. They giggled and squirmed, showering her with kisses. Soon, the laughter of the many others witnessing the reunion surrounded them.

  Except the McKenna’s. He neither laughed nor smiled nor made any move to embrace his daughter and welcome her home.

  Looking as though he might explode, Hamish Drummond pushed his way forward. “What’s this I hear? Ye are married? ’Tis all a lie! Katherine cannae be married to MacTavish. She is betrothed to me!”

  “Was betrothed.” Lachlan reached inside his cloak and pulled out a scroll of parchment. “We were married at Clayton Abbey last evening, as this document will attest. ’Tis signed by both the priest who married us and Brother Gregory, the monastery’s abbo
t. Graham stood as one of our witnesses.”

  “Impossible!” Drummond shouted. “Brother Gregory refused my request to arrange a marriage and Graham insisted that he wouldn’t allow Katherine to be wed without her parents in attendance.”

  “When I proposed myself as the groom, Graham wisely altered his opinion on the matter,” Lachlan revealed.

  There were gasps of shock and surprise, along with a few chuckles of amusement as the revelation rippled through the crowd like a wave. Lachlan swore he could feel the bodies surging closer as everyone tried to overhear more of the titillating conversation.

  Seeing the parchment agitated Drummond further and malicious intent sparked in his eyes. As Lachlan read the threat, his right hand moved to the handle of the sword slung over his back.

  “This is an outrage! An insult!” Drummond shouted. “Ye are a thief, MacTavish! Ye have stolen my betrothed.”

  “I chose Lachlan to be my husband, as was my right,” Katherine declared, throwing back her shoulders and raising her chin.

  “Ye picked me first,” Drummond bellowed, the pulse at the base of his neck ticking furiously. “Yer father—and mine—signed a binding contract of betrothal less than a fortnight ago.”

  “Aye, we did,” the McKenna agreed with a disparaging look at Lachlan and Katherine. “A legal document.”

  Katherine’s brows drew together in a distressed frown. Lachlan gently squeezed her hand encouragingly. “I’m not a scholar, versed in the finer legal points of marriage, Laird McKenna. Yet ’tis clear that vows exchanged in front of a priest have more validity than a betrothal contract.”

  “Hogwash!” Drummond exclaimed. “This marriage must be set aside so the union agreed upon between myself and Lady Katherine can take place.”

  “Never,” Katherine declared passionately.

  Drummond made a strangled noise in the back of his throat and reached out to touch Katherine’s arm. She stiffened and moved away, pressing herself closer to Lachlan.

  “I bear ye no grudge, Drummond, but that will quickly change if ye persist in upsetting my wife,” Lachlan stated firmly, pinning his advisory with a warning glare. “Katherine broke the betrothal and fled. She refused to take ye as her husband and is now married to me. I’ve had her and I intend to hold and keep her.”