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Kilts Ahoy!

Page 18

by Markland, Anna


  Elgin chuckled. “But he wrote that ye looked just like him.”

  As he shared the humor, Marshall sensed the change in his brother. His shoulders were no longer hunched, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from them. On the rare occasions when a clan meeting had been called in the past, he’d usually deferred to Marshall to conduct them. Now, he braced his legs, raised a hand and let his gaze rove over the crowd.

  Every eye fixed on him almost immediately.

  He raised his fist and shouted the traditional Robson rallying cry, “Cinneadh na mara.”

  “Clan of the Sea,” echoed off the rafters as men returned the salute.

  He gestured to Teagan and her brothers. “I ask ye to give a hearty Robson welcome to important visitors. The laird of Clan MacCray and his kin.”

  Beathan thrust his fist in the air and nodded. It took a few moments before the cheers began in earnest but Elgin had to eventually call for order to be restored. “I ken ye were expecting a wedding this day,” he began, nodding to Teagan. “As ye see, the beautiful bride is here.”

  Murmurs of “Aye” arose, but confusion was plain to see on many a face.

  “However, I’ve learned that Lady Teagan MacCray wishes to marry someone else.”

  Utter silence greeted this pronouncement, though many scowled at Teagan until Elgin declared, “And I couldna be happier to learn my dear brother wishes to take her to wife.”

  As gaping folks stared, Marshall decided this was an appropriate time to beckon the blushing Teagan to his side. Tentative smiles broke out among the crowd when he put his arm around her waist.

  “I’m nay sure about this,” she murmured.

  “This is the way Elgin wanted to do it, and the council approved, so we have to trust him.”

  “Ye might think I’d be upset about the situation,” Elgin continued, grinning broadly. “In fact, I’m delighted. Ye see, Marshall loves the MacCray lass, and she loves him.”

  “I think he’s actually enjoying this,” Marshall whispered to Teagan as folks began to clap and cheer.

  “Ye must be informed, though,” Elgin said when order was restored. “The plan to wed the Robson laird to the MacCray lass was Marshall’s idea in the first place.”

  “He’s confusing them,” Teagan whispered when many in the crowd scratched their heads.

  “This shows the sacrifice Marshall Robson was willing to make to end the feud for the benefit of his clan.”

  The foot stomping became deafening until Elgin removed his bonnet. “’Tis clear to me and to everyone here that my brother Marshall will make a far better chieftain for this clan.”

  A few halfhearted “Nays” soon gave way to applause when Elgin beckoned Marshall to kneel before him.

  *

  Teagan held back the tears of pride as Marshall went down on one knee.

  “As laird of Clan Robson,” Elgin began, “do ye swear to uphold our laws and traditions?”

  “I so swear,” Marshall replied with conviction.

  “Will ye arbitrate clan disputes, dispense our laws and administer the fair tenancy of lands, according to each mon’s rights and needs?”

  “I will.”

  There was an audible intake of breath as Elgin placed the chieftain’s bonnet on Marshall’s head and declared, “Marshall Broderick Robson is henceforth recognized as the laird of Clan Robson.”

  Pandemonium ensued, increasing in volume when Elgin pinned his clan brooch on Marshall’s plaid.

  Teagan’s heart rejoiced when tears welled in Marshall’s eyes as he fingered the brooch. His people clearly loved and respected their new chieftain. They had no way of knowing the rightful heir finally held the honor.

  All her brothers were applauding. Even Ethan and Lachlan acknowledged Marshall was the right man for the job.

  Amid the cheering, her beloved stood and reached for her hand.

  “They love ye, my laird,” she whispered, awed by the pride in his eyes.

  “As they’ll come to love ye,” he replied.

  He stood with legs braced, soaking up the respectful adulation of his people. She’d never loved him more.

  “I canna tell ye,” he declared when quiet was finally restored, “how proud and humbled I am to stand before ye as yer laird.”

  More foot stomping, tankard banging and cheering followed.

  He beckoned Beathan, took hold of his wrist and raised his arm. “I see a bright future ahead. Working in partnership with our neighbors in Clan MacCray, we will build a shipping empire to rival all comers. We will dominate trade nay only with Scandinavia but throughout the Orkneys, Shetlands and beyond.”

  The din was deafening until he lowered the grinning Beathan’s arm and called for silence. “I will only be able to accomplish all this with a strong woman as my helpmate, and I am honored Lady Teagan MacCray has consented to be my wife.”

  Before more cheering broke out, he tapped his finger to his lips. “I can make ye privy to a secret now. Lady Teagan and I have already hand-fasted.” Folks gaped when he winked. “However, with all the excitement, I havena had a chance to be a true husband, if ye get my drift.”

  Hearty guffaws greeted his jest. Smiling women blushed.

  “So, let’s away to the chapel to get the pastor’s blessing, then ye’ll excuse me if I take my lovely wife to inspect her new quarters.”

  Raucous cheers and whistling followed them as he took her hand and led her from the hall.

  Borne Aloft

  Pastor Frobisher bristled, shaking his head when Marshall appeared with a bride in tow. “Nay, I canna marry ye.”

  “We’ve pledged to each other already,” Marshall explained, trying to hold on to his patience. “Hand-fasted, if ye will, so we just need yer blessing.”

  The cleric dithered, seemingly unable to take his eyes off the eagle feather in Marshall’s bonnet. He looked to Elgin lolling in the doorway. “What say ye about this? I thought ye were here to marry Teagan MacCray.”

  “They have my blessing,” his brother confirmed. “Marshall is chieftain now.”

  “But…” Frobisher eyed Beathan warily when Teagan’s scowling brother stepped closer. Sweat broke out on his brow when the rest of her brothers followed suit. “I suppose…”

  “Aye,” Beathan agreed.

  Marshall chuckled inwardly. Perhaps there was something to be said for having a giant as a brother-by-marriage. He eyed the stole around the cleric’s neck. “Ye’ll need that, I’m guessing.”

  “Aye,” Frobisher agreed, hastily removing the silk and wrapping it around Marshall and Teagan’s joined hands.

  “Do ye, Marshall Robson, promise in the sight of Almighty God and before all those present to love and honor this woman ye have pledged yerself to?”

  Marshall had never been surer of anything in his life. “As God is my witness, and before all those present, I do so promise with all my heart,” he vowed, squeezing Teagan’s hand as he gazed into her eyes.

  “Aye, weel,” Frobisher continued nervously, “and do ye, Teagan MacCray promise in the sight of Almighty God and before all those present to love, honor and obey this mon ye have pledged yerself to?”

  Marshall’s heart thudded in his ears when Teagan replied, “I do so promise.” He feared he might drown in the deep love he saw in her eyes.

  He supposed Frobisher must have declared them man and wife but he was too busy suckling her tongue to hear. It was as well they were pried apart and hoisted onto broad shoulders or they might have set the chapel afire.

  *

  Borne aloft on Beathan and Archie’s broad shoulders, Teagan bubbled with excitement. Marshall’s kiss had roused intensely pleasurable sensations in intimate places. His rich laughter caused her heart to race as Ethan and Lachlan feigned a lack of balance, threatening to tip her new husband from their shoulders as they climbed stone stairways.

  Her darling brothers were happy for her, and they liked and respected the man she’d married. Bo cavorted happily, woofing his delight.
r />   Even Elgin appeared to be content to join the crowd of well-wishers as they shouted bawdy advice for the newlyweds.

  It was only when she was safely deposited in Marshall’s chamber that Beathan’s demeanor changed. He hung back when the rest of her brothers and Elgin mobbed Marshall and began to taunt him to disrobe.

  She took hold of Beathan’s hands. “My thanks for all ye’ve done for me,” she said.

  “’Twas my duty as yer eldest brother to take care of ye,” he replied with a shrug.

  “’Tis more than that. Ye’ve always protected me, even before our parents died, and now ye must yield that responsibility to another mon. One from a different clan.”

  “Ye’re a canny lass,” he said. “And ye ken me too weel.” He glanced at the noisy ribbing going on across the chamber. “If ever he…”

  Aware she was blushing when loud whistling and hearty cheers sounded as the last of Marshall’s garments was removed, she put a finger to his lips. “Ye ken he would give his life for me.”

  “We’ll miss ye,” he rasped, bestowing a kiss on her knuckles. “Who can we tease with ye gone?”

  Close to tears, she threw her arms around him.

  “Be happy, Lady Robson,” he rasped.

  “I am happy,” she assured him when a red-faced Katie appeared to prepare her. “And I intend to visit Castle MacCray often. Now, go. Ye’re missing the fun.”

  *

  Booing ensued when Marshall accepted the bed-robe Beathan handed him. “The wee lass,” his brother-by-marriage muttered gruffly, nodding at Katie.

  Marshall covered his arousal. “Laird MacCray is right,” he yelled over the din, “ye’ve had yer fun, now begone, if ye please.”

  They left grudgingly, accusing Beathan of being a poor sport. Whining, Bo was dragged out, his claws scraping on the planked floor. Marshall suspected his fellow laird’s actions had more to do with sparing his sister than the maidservant.

  Speaking of which.

  “I think yer lady can manage without ye,” he said softly, risking a wink at the fiercely blushing young maid.

  A tentative smile replaced the frown. “Are ye sure?” she asked her mistress.

  “Aye,” Teagan replied. “My husband will take care of me. Have ye been given a chamber?”

  Katie nodded. “Laird Beathan arranged it.”

  Marshall felt badly. He hadn’t given a thought to the maid’s accommodations. However, he stayed where he was, deeming it inappropriate to get too close to her with a bed-robe clutched to his privates, something he seemed fated to do in Katie’s presence.

  Amusement tugged at the corners of his wife’s mouth as she pecked a kiss on the maid’s cheek and bade her goodnight.

  Satisfied they were at last alone, Marshall tossed the bed-robe aside and spread his arms wide. “Ye think my predicament was funny?” he growled playfully.

  Teagan blushed as she stared wide-eyed at his rampant cock. Fearing he’d been too quick to expose himself, he cursed his typically male failure to consider that females were more sensitive about such matters. Just because…

  “’Tis a good thing ye covered yerself,” she declared with a grin. “Ye’d have scared Katie off marrying for the rest of her life.”

  Buoyed by the lustful glint in her eyes, he took her hand and curled it around his shaft. “Do I scare ye, Wife?”

  Patience

  Teagan was a wee bit afraid. Marshall’s male member, around which she could barely curl her fingers, was clearly much too large to fit inside a woman’s body. She’d thought so in the library when she’d first set eyes on the most intimate part of his body and the prospect had preoccupied her ever since. She trusted his promise to prepare her for their union, but she truly didn’t fully understand how he proposed to do that.

  She had no sisters to advise her. Her mother had died when she was still a wee bairn. From her brothers’ boasts, it appeared men enjoyed sexual congress immensely, but they never mentioned the feelings of the lasses they bedded.

  It seemed there were different rules for men and women in intimate matters just as there were in sailing the seven seas.

  However, every fiber of her being craved Marshall. She wanted his tongue to carry her away on a tide of desire. She craved his lips on her tingling nipples, his maleness inside her throbbing cleft. “This gown has to come off,” she heard herself say. “I want to feel yer skin against mine.”

  “I’m happy to oblige,” he purred, peering down the front of the décolletage. “Just tell me how.”

  She was under no illusion that Marshall had never taken a woman to bed before but he seemed shy about removing her clothing.

  He cupped her breasts when she raised her arms to reveal the laces artfully concealed in the side seam of the gown. “Aha,” he declared, brushing his thumbs lightly over her nipples. “I can manage that.”

  “Quickly,” she urged, already inflamed by his touch.

  *

  Marshall sensed from their first intimate encounter in his library that Teagan was a woman capable of great passion. Her eagerness to be rid of the gown confirmed his hopes. “Patience,” he teased when she came close to tearing the fabric in her haste. “We have all afternoon.”

  Finally naked, she molded her body to his, exhaling loudly as she nestled her face against him. The heat of her skin and the warm tickle of her breath on his neck aroused and calmed him at the same time. She must be nervous about their joining—what lass wouldn’t be if they saw the size of him—yet she trusted him.

  He was nervous too. Encouraged by his father, he’d fooled around in his youth and certainly couldn’t claim to be a virgin, but…

  “I’ve ne’er spilled my seed inside a woman,” he confided in an effort to reassure her.

  She looked up at him with eyes so full of love his heart threatened to burst right out of his chest.

  “I can hear yer heart beating,” she whispered, rubbing her mons against him, probably unaware she was moving her hips in an age-old, hypnotic rhythm.

  “Let me play with ye,” he said, lifting her onto the bed.

  “Like before?” she asked, not making any effort to cover herself as he raked his gaze over her.

  “Aye. Did ye like it?”

  “Ye ken I loved it,” she confessed, squeezing his male nipples when he knelt beside her.

  The prospect of years of sexual delights with this playful woman nigh on made Marshall dizzy. He ought to tell her so, but his need was growing greater by the second and he’d promised to ready her. Selfishly, he acknowledged penetrating wet warmth would result in more pleasure for him.

  She twirled her fingers in his hair while he suckled her nipple, purring when he swiped his tongue roughly over the rigid bud. Her legs fell open when he rolled the other nipple between his finger and thumb. She put an arm around his shoulders when he stretched out beside her, latching on hard. An image of Teagan suckling their babe nestled at her breast filled him with contentment. Had his cock not insisted otherwise, he might have lain in her arms suckling for hours.

  She whimpered when he abandoned the other nipple and trailed his fingers down her belly to the curls at her mons. To his delight, she took over where he’d left off, squeezing her own nipple. His hopes soared as his happy phallus saluted. There’d be no coaxing Teagan into overcoming inhibitions.

  He filled his lungs, praying for control when his fingers dipped into lush warmth.

  “I’m wet,” she whispered.

  “Aye,” he rasped, “a mon loves it when a lass is wet for him.”

  With a throaty grunt, she cupped her breast and offered it to his mouth again. Chuckling, he took it as his cue to resume suckling while his fingers stroked her nether lips.

  As he expected, she squirmed, her body heating when he deliberately avoided touching the diamond of her desire as he played.

  “Tell me what ye want,” he coaxed.

  She tossed her head from side to side on the pillow before finally begging, “Please.”


  Grazing the nipple with his teeth while simultaneously touching his finger to her swollen bud carried her over the edge. He smugly congratulated himself on his timing as she panted and moaned and writhed. He’d have murmured words of admiration had he been able to break free of the surprisingly strong grip she had on his neck. He decided he may as well continue suckling…just for a minute.

  *

  Teagan’s boat crested the storm-tossed waves. Chattering dolphins leaped alongside. She had to hold on tightly to Marshall as the incredible sensations thrumming through her body went on and on. She thought she might be screaming, but it seemed unlikely since she could barely breathe.

  There was just one thing missing…she needed an anchor lest the waves suck her under.

  Panic subsided when Marshall eased his proud lance inside her. She had found her safe harbor.

  The twinge of pain was so slight, she barely noticed it.

  “Are ye all right?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “Deeper,” she growled, lifting her legs to grip his hips.

  “Aye, lass,” he rasped, thrusting harder, fulfilling her frantic need to have him penetrate deep inside.

  She pressed her palms to his chest, sifting her fingers through the soft dusting of dark hair, returning his smile when the tip of his penis touched her womb.

  They stared into each other’s eyes as she matched the rhythm of his thrusts. Wherever skin touched skin, the heat of his body rose. She sensed a climax coming when he began to struggle for breath, stretching the muscles of his strong neck. The maleness inside her grew fuller as rapture blossomed and ecstasy again took hold.

  They rode the wave of euphoria together, her cries of joy echoing his shout of release.

  Very Unladylike

  Marshall awoke from a doze. He’d drifted into a peaceful sleep after the life-altering coupling with his wife, intending to stay inside her pulsating heat forever. Apparently, that hadn’t happened. She lay tucked in behind him, her breasts pressed to his back.

 

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