*
Marshall acknowledged Teagan was right. “’Tis ironic our fate depends on a woman who isna always in possession of her wits,” he lamented. “She’s the only one who could convince Elgin of the truth, but she refuses to break her oath to her sister.”
His body reacted predictably when Teagan snuggled closer. “We canna blame her for that,” she whispered. “Ye feel the same way. I love ye all the more for yer determination to protect yer mother.”
Marshall inhaled the fresh scent that always clung to her hair—and something else…the faint aroma of female arousal. “Ye ken I want ye,” he said softly. “In the way a mon wants a woman.”
She nodded. “My body craves ye, Marshall. Just being near ye rouses passions I ne’er kent I was capable of. ’Tis why I’m sure ye’re the mon destined for me.”
He held her tightly, wishing there was a hearty blaze burning in the cold grate, though his body was on fire. “I canna make ye completely mine yet, mo bhean ghràdhach, but we have pledged to each other. Can I touch ye in the way a mon touches his darling wife?”
She made no reply, but his elation soared when she took his hand and placed it on her breast. His needy cock saluted her throaty moan when he brushed his thumb over her nipple. “Teagan,” he whispered as his lips met hers.
Power
Every assumption Teagan had ever harbored about sexual congress between a man and his wife blew away like chaff on the wind. It didn’t matter that she and Marshall lay on his plaid and not in a sweet bed furnished with crisp linens festooned with rose petals.
The lack of a hearty fire in the grate was of no importance. Heat consumed her as Marshall nibbled her lips and explored with his tongue. Their first kiss had been life-changing. But now that they’d pledged to each other, she realized the power an intimate kiss could wield. It gave her the courage to touch her tongue to his, to breathe with him as she savored his taste, his masculine scent.
The growl deep in his throat confirmed what her heart already knew. They hadn’t made promises in a chapel, but Marshall Robson was her husband—and the rightful laird of his clan. They were destined to be together. It was his right to touch her in intimate places that ached for his caresses.
She helped him unfasten and remove her gown, basking in the glow of admiration in his eyes when her breasts were revealed.
Transported by the pure joy of his mouth suckling her nipples and the soft tickle of his beard, she cradled his head, tempted to croon a lullaby.
An insistent ache of need blossomed in her most intimate place, but she was hesitant to ask him to touch her there. His kiss muffled her scream of delight when his knowing fingers found exactly the spot that craved attention. She writhed as he stroked and played, teased and pressed. Something was coming, she knew it as heat built inside her. She longed for it, yet didn’t want the incredible sensations to end.
She gripped the edges of the plaid when he came to his knees, bent his head and suckled—there. His finger slid inside and pushed her over the edge of the cliff she’d been climbing into an abyss of bliss; she rode a wave of indescribable pleasure, keening sounds she’d never made before.
With one arm, he gathered her to his chest, his finger still inside. She clenched him, coaxing the last spasm of rapture.
As she floated back to reality, his deep voice echoed in her heart. “I love ye, Teagan.”
“As I love ye, Marshall,” she replied, slurring the words like a drunkard.
Chuckling, he kissed the top of her head as he eased his finger from inside her. “Ye taste even sweeter than I imagined,” he told her, licking her juices.
She giggled self-consciously. “Ye’ve dreamed of doing these things, have ye?”
“Only with ye, Teagan. And dinna try to tell me ye havena longed to lie with me,” he teased.
“Aye,” she admitted, “but I ne’er imagined ’twould be as wonderful.”
“Next time, ’twill be even better,” he promised, settling her hand on his male part. “’Twill nay be just my finger pleasuring ye.”
She’d heard enough male bravado from her brothers to understand the significance of the firm swelling beneath her hand. “I behaved like a wanton,” she murmured, “and ye have needs too.”
“Nay, a woman who responds passionately to her husband’s caresses isna a wanton. And there’ll be time enough to see to my needs. Although…”
*
It had been difficult enough for Marshall to keep his cock in his trews while Teagan writhed in the throes of her release. If he let her see him, touch him…
Nay, it was a bad idea. For one thing, his size might terrify her. God had been generous. For another, the driving need to possess her might result in his plunging into the wet heat he’d only savored.
“I’d love ye to touch me,” he rasped, losing the battle with his resolve when he licked his lips and tasted again her sweet honey.
Her wide-eyed nod was all it took to get him to his feet. Fearing his seed might erupt at the sight of the naked goddess kneeling before him, he fumbled with the buckle of the leather belt.
“Let me,” she whispered, reaching to help him.
He raised his gaze to the ceiling, praying his racing heart wouldn’t burst as she unfastened his trews and eased them over his hips. He should forewarn her. “I…”
“Marshall,” she said softly, curling both hands around him. “Ye are magnificent.”
Resisting the urge to strut around the library crowing like a rooster, he stepped out of his trews, stripped off his shirt and lay down beside her. She snuggled into him as he put an arm around her.
“I dinna ken what to do,” she confessed.
“Like this,” he rasped, praying his resolve didn’t desert him completely as he curled his hand around hers and showed her how to move from base to tip, and slowly back again.
*
The only girl in a family of eight, Teagan had often felt powerless. As she learned to stroke Marshall in a way he liked, the intense pleasure on his face was proof of her immense power as a woman.
It was inevitable a lass with seven brothers had, at one time or another, accidentally caught glimpses of penises, but she couldn’t recall seeing anything so fascinating as the changes happening to Marshall’s proud lance.
She sensed some tumultuous event was nearing as his manhood became thicker, the tip redder. He held on to her the same way she had clung to him when he’d saved her from drowning. His rapid breathing turned to a growl. She was in the arms of a male in the thrall of a primeval urge, yet she felt no fear.
He cried out her name when his seed erupted from his body. She gazed in awe, nigh on moved to tears by the love in his intense blue gaze.
But he must have detected the wee doubt niggling at the back of her mind.
“Dinna fash, darling wife,” he said with a trace of a smile. “I ken I’m big but, when the time comes for us to join our bodies, we will fit together. I’ll make ye ready.”
“I was ready,” she admitted, not fully understanding what he meant. “If ye’d asked…”
He gathered his plaid around her. “I ken and, believe me, I want to spill my seed inside ye. We just have to be patient a little while longer.”
“Patience isna my strong point.”
He pecked a kiss on her nose. “Come on. We’ll get dressed and I’ll escort ye home. We need to keep Beathan informed.”
Who is This Man?
“There’s a chance Beathan is still working on the boats in Wick,” Marshall told Teagan as he lifted her into the saddle.
She nodded. “That might be an appropriate place to tell him our news.”
“But nary a word yet about our suspicions concerning Elgin’s parentage.”
“I agree,” she replied.
“By the way,” he said as he mounted. “Did ye ken my horse’s name is Beau?”
Her eyes widened. “Like my dog.”
“Aye. ’Tis French for handsome.”
She shrugged. “I
chose Bo because I liked the sound of the name. ’Tis another sign we are meant to be together.”
As they set off, Marshall was relieved she seemed to have no regrets about the decision to hand-fast. “There will be difficulties if Elgin decides to fight this,” he warned.
She leaned to cradle his cheek in her palm. “I ken. We’ll face them together.”
He nodded, emboldened to believe he could meet any challenge with this woman by his side.
Cresting the hill overlooking Wick, they saw none of her brothers on the docks, so they rode on to Castle MacCray.
“I dinna think I’ll ever feel comfortable crossing this narrow bridge,” he shouted, keeping his eyes off the roiling surf below.
She looked at him over her shoulder, a naughty grin on her face. “Ye’ll get used to it,” she teased.
The smile fled when they entered the courtyard. “Isn’t that…?”
“Aye,” he confirmed, clenching his jaw. “’Tis Elgin’s horse.”
“Why do ye suppose he’s here?” she asked.
Marshall anticipated trouble from his half-brother but hadn’t deemed him courageous enough to ride into Castle MacCray alone. “I’ll handle it,” he assured her, hoping he spoke true.
*
Bo’s low growl should have alerted her, but Teagan didn’t at first recognize the visitor in Beathan’s study and even Marshall’s greeting held a note of incredulity. “Elgin?” he asked, his question directed at the clean-shaven man with his hair tied back in a neat queue.
“Marshall,” his brother replied curtly.
Teagan did, however, recognize the anger in her brother’s rigid stance. “The Robson laird has come to insist ye marry him,” Beathan sneered with disdain.
“Aye,” Elgin declared without looking at her or Marshall. “Ye gave yer word as laird of this clan that yer sister would be my wife.”
“That was before ye got me and my brother lost in Scandinavia, then, thanks to ye, we were locked up in a stinking shed full of dried fish.”
Elgin squared his shoulders, showing no signs of his usual inebriation. “What happened has no bearing. Are ye a mon of yer word, or should I inform my clan ye’re an oath breaker?”
Teagan worried when the color drained from Beathan’s angry face. Her brother set great store on his reputation throughout the Highlands as an honorable man.
“If I may interrupt,” Marshall said. “The question is moot, Elgin. Teagan and I have already hand-fasted. She canna marry ye.”
Elgin looked down his nose at her. “Then she’s an adulteress.”
When Marshall and Beathan both clenched their fists and took a step towards him, Teagan knew Elgin wouldn’t leave the study in one piece. “Stop,” she shouted, relieved when everyone’s gaze turned to her. “Violence willna solve this.”
For the first time, she noted a hint of fear in Elgin’s eyes. Had he not realized his inflammatory words could get him killed? “Why are ye doing this?” she asked. “Ye dinna love me, but Marshall does.”
His bottom lip trembled. For a moment, she thought he might burst into tears like a bairn denied a toy he craves, but he stiffened his spine and said, “I’m the laird of Clan Robson, no matter what Aunty Moira says, and surely, the MacCray chieftain wants his sister to wed a chieftain, nay his younger brother.”
She exchanged a worried glance with Marshall. Had Moira broken her oath?
“Ye’re jeopardizing the alliance if ye insist on this,” Beathan said.
“Do ye really want to get us kicked out of Wick?” Marshall asked.
Elgin lifted his chin. “Laird MacCray willna rekindle the feud if his sister’s married to me. Ye have until the morrow to bring Lady Teagan to Castle Robson. Arrangements have been made for noon.”
Her innards in knots, she gaped as he sauntered out of the study, leaving them all flabbergasted.
*
Beathan seethed, his hands gripping the edge of his desk. Marshall had no choice but to take the MacCray laird into his confidence lest he direct his anger at his sister. “Before ye say a word,” he said, putting a steadying arm around his wife’s waist, “Elgin isna the rightful laird of Clan Robson.”
Beathan’s eyes bulged. “What?”
“I am.”
Beathan threw his hands in the air and shook his head. “Nay. Ye believe this, Teagan? Is this how he convinced ye?”
Marshall gritted his teeth. “I’ll put that assault on my honor down to yer frustration with Elgin. I’m nay a liar, and ye ken it very weel.”
Teagan laced her fingers with his. “Marshall didna need to convince me of anything,” she said softly. “And ye have just insulted me as weel as the mon I love.”
Eyes narrowed, Beathan slumped into his chair. “Ye’ve bedded her.”
Marshall acknowledged there was a new glow shining in Teagan’s eyes. Clearly, her brother had taken note of it, but he refused to feel guilty about the intimacy they’d shared. “I havena bedded her, as ye so politely put it, but I intend to, and soon.”
Beathan picked at his thumbnail. “I apologize for my outburst. Ye’ve put me in an awkward position.”
“Nay,” Teagan replied. “’Tis Elgin who’s done that but, remember, he doesna have the right to call himself laird.”
“And how do ye ken this?”
“’Tis clear from my father’s log of the clan’s history he suspected Elgin wasna his son,” Marshall replied. “And my aunt confirmed my suspicions. She helped convince my father the babe my mother bore after they first married was his.”
Beathan arched a brow. “And he wasna?”
Marshall inhaled deeply. “What I tell ye now must remain between us. No one can learn my sweet mother was raped before she married my father. The blame will fall on her.”
Beathan turned his attention to Teagan. “And ye’ve seen this journal?”
The knot in Marshall’s belly tightened. “Moira removed the journal from my library before I had a chance to show it to Teagan.”
Beathan again addressed his sister. “But ye’ve spoken with Moira and she confirms all this?”
Marshall would give anything to wipe the desolation from Teagan’s face. “Moira isna always in possession of her wits these days,” he explained. “She has refused to break her oath to my mother but I suspect she has recently tried to reveal the truth to Elgin.”
“So, ye’re depending on a woman in her dotage to get yerself recognized as the rightful laird.”
“Aye. Without destroying my mother’s reputation.”
What If?
Beathan summoned his brothers to the study.
Teagan took hold of Marshall’s hands. “A family conference will mean revealing yer mother’s secret to all my brothers.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “I trust them. They’re men of honor.”
Beathan nodded, his face grim.
She regretted the difficult predicament he faced, but there was no opportunity to tell him so as the others began arriving, all curious to learn what was going on. “I prefer nay to involve the council just yet,” Beathan explained. “This is a family matter, so we must resolve it.
“What we’re about to discuss goes nay further than this room,” he began when everyone was seated. “I’ll defer to Marshall to explain.”
Teagan’s spirits lifted. Her laird must believe Marshall’s assertions since he was allowing him to speak as a member of the family. Pride warmed her heart as he took up a stance by the hearth and scanned his audience. She had married a worthy Highlander, a man not afraid to face challenges.
“First off,” he began, “ye should be made aware Teagan and I have hand-fasted.”
Seth leaped to his feet and shook Marshall’s hand. “’Tis wonderful news.”
Tears welled when Seth took her into his arms and hugged her tightly. “Aye, lass. I’m happy for ye.”
To her delight, Finlay came next to embrace her and shake Marshall’s hand. “’Tis a good match,” he declared.
The re
st were more hesitant. Archie frowned. “This doesna come as a complete surprise, Teagan. Ye’re a mon worthy of my sister, Marshall, but I suspect Beathan hasna gathered us here just to tell us this.”
Marshall nodded, took a deep breath and embarked on his account of the dilemma. She grieved for him when he could barely choke out the details of his mother’s rape.
At length, he folded his arms across his chest and said, “So, here we are. I dinna intend to give Teagan up. She is my wife and I love her.”
“We dinna doot that,” Archie exclaimed. “’Twas obvious from the day ye fished her out of Wick Bay.”
“Aye,” the others agreed in unison.
“The bigger issue here,” Ethan said with uncharacteristic seriousness, “is the chieftaincy of Clan Robson.”
“We should have kent Elgin wasna the rightful laird,” Lachlan echoed. “’Tis clear ye’re better suited to the job, Marshall.”
Teagan recognized how hard it was for the twins who’d resented her beloved from the outset to voice these words.
“I appreciate yer support,” Marshall replied. “However, Elgin can make things difficult for both clans if he persists. I’ve ne’er coveted the chieftaincy but, now, I must challenge Elgin.”
“I think ye’ve been more of a leader for yer clan than yer brother ever was,” Teagan said.
“Aye,” everyone agreed.
“I value yer comments, but ’tis imperative we solve the problem without damaging anyone’s reputation.”
The discussion continued for well over an hour, with various proposals put forth then rejected. All depended on exposing Elgin in front of the clan, or on Moira breaking her oath.
“So,” Finlay finally said. “Ye say yer aunty has the journal. What if ye trick her into bringing it to yer library?”
Kilts Ahoy! Page 16
