To Love a Scottish Laird: De Wolfe Pack Connected World

by Sherry Ewing

  The pathway was uneven, the dirt walls covered in soot from the smoke of other torches used by MacLaren’s over the years. God forbid if the walls caved in around her. She would be buried alive and no one would ever find her remains.

  She tried not to think of the dangers that might await her if such a tragedy occurred and continued downward. Unseen webs caught in her hair, and she brushed away the insects she felt. She continued walking until she reached the landing Freya had mentioned. At least the girl hadn’t lied so far.

  Setting down the torch, she opened the lid to the chest and found a satchel filled with some necessities as if they had been gathered just for her use. She chose an extra set of clothes and a cloak, and before long, was once more making her way downward til she at last saw a bit of light at the end of the tunnel. ’Twas a welcome relief, and Catherine snuffed out the torch and hid in the brush, waiting for the men Freya promised to send.

  Day turned to dusk, and Catherine watched the sunset through the leaves. Suddenly, she heard the sound of distant hoofbeats.

  When Catherine heard her name being called, she made her way from the bushes to find Shona’s husband, along with several other knights, standing nearby with an extra horse. She was thankful she could trust them.

  Boyd offered her a leg up on the mount, and Catherine easily managed to sit in the saddle. With a flick of the reins, they were off, riding north along the beach. There was still just enough daylight for them to ride into the forest.

  While making camp that night, Boyd told her he would set up a tent for her use in the morn. She could also swim in a warm spring if she so desired. He would ensure her privacy and that she remained safe.

  And as Catherine closed her eyes that night, lying on a pallet near the fire, she began to wonder how long she would be exiled to this place before Douglas came for her. She missed him desperately, and only wanted to feel safe again in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Douglas and his men finally reached Berwyck, and he was glad the journey was over. As he rode into the outer bailey, an odd feeling overcame him, causing him to wonder what had gone on during his absence. He gazed about, seeking his wife and those beautiful hazel eyes that had filled his dreams every night he’d been gone. Where the devil was Catherine? he mused.

  He dismounted, and Freya burst through the crowd, throwing herself into his arms and crying. He barely made out what she was saying, but he could not miss his wife’s name and that of her captain.

  “Where is my wife?” he said, brushing away the tears from his sister’s cheeks.

  “Please forgive me, Douglas,” she sobbed. “’Tis all my fault!”

  This could not be good news. Gazing around at the crowd and not wishing to cause a bigger scene, he ushered Freya into the keep with Killian following close behind. Once they reached his solar and closed the door, he knew he had the privacy he desired. “Do ye care tae tell me what ye must apologize for, Freya, and exactly where in the hell is my wife?”

  “I was only upset with Charles for not returning my affections,” she cried, wringing her hands together. “How was I tae know Cathal had been terrorizing our people in yer absence and would take it upon himself tae throw poor Charles in the dungeon?”

  Freya continued recounting the ordeal Catherine had undergone since their arrival at Berwyck. His scowl deepened when he heard how long Charles had been locked up. As she told him Cathal had attempted to rape his wife, Douglas’s patience snapped.

  “When did all this happen?” he asked.

  “Yesterday afternoon,” she replied. “I sent Boyd tae guard her.”

  “Ye are not tae blame for what that pig tried with Catherine, but by God, Freya, ye will apologize tae de Grey once he is brought above!” he roared while raking his fingers through his hair in frustration.

  “I promise, I shall,” she said with downcast eyes.

  He came to his sister. Despite her foolishness where de Grey was concerned, Douglas still loved her, and in the end, she did what was right. “Ye did well tae send her through the passage, Freya. Ye sent her tae the pond with the waterfall?”

  “Aye. ’Tis the only place I knew where she would be safe. I remember playing there as a child when mother and father would take us there.”

  “I will escort ye tae yer chamber. Stay there til I send someone tae inform ye ’tis safe tae leave. I know not how Cathal will react once I send for him.” Douglas kissed her forehead before turning his attention to Killian. “Find that filthy whoreson and bring him tae me in the great hall.”

  After seeing that his sister was in her chamber with the door bolted, Douglas returned to his solar and pulled a stone from the wall. There was a chest inside the alcove, and he pulled it out. Opening the box, he retrieved an extra key to the dungeon. He would not put it past Cathal to say he lost the keys and that’s why de Grey was still in the cell.

  He made his way to the hall where he stood before the massive hearth. Hands behind his back, he was unsurprised when Killian all but dragged Cathal before him. Handing the dungeon key to Killian, he ordered him to release Charles before he returned his attention back to Cathal.

  “I have been informed that ye dishonored my wife,” Douglas said in a warning tone.

  “I never touched her,” Cathal shouted.

  “Aye, ye did. Ye dishonored her by not believing she is my wife. That, I can almost forgive, but not touching what is mine.”

  Cathal’s hands clenched at his sides. “Ye would wed an English whore over one of our own?”

  Douglas grabbed him by the throat and gave him a violent shake. “I would be careful who ye call a whore. Ye speak of the woman I love.” It came out before Douglas even realized what he had said. Aye, he loved her, and hoped she felt the same.

  He shoved Cathal so hard, the man stumbled back several feet before he regained his footing. Douglas frowned as Killian assisted Charles to a nearby bench. Relatively unharmed, the poor captain was in need of a bath and food.

  Douglas peered back at Cathal. “Since ye seem so fond of putting someone in the dungeon who does not belong there, perhaps a stay there yerself would do ye some good.” He nodded toward two knights standing close. “Take him away and throw him into the pit. My wife will determine his fate upon her return.”

  Cathal cursed and began fighting before Douglas came toward him. He punched Cathal in the jaw, knocking him senseless.

  Once Douglas knew Cathal was secured below, he told a maid to inform his sister ’twas safe to leave her chamber. Then he called for a fresh horse, ’twas time to go and fetch his wife!

  He rode hard, wasting no time to reach her. He knew where she was, and he would welcome the soothing waters of the warm spring to wash away the dust from his travels. When he reached the forest, he could smell the campfire.

  A few moments later, Boyd greeted him and told him Catherine was safe as he sheathed his sword once he saw ’twas Douglas.

  “Ensure the men continue tae scout the area beyond the camp,” Douglas ordered before he followed the trail to where he knew his wife was located. He was unprepared for the siren that awaited him. She took his breath away while she stood under the waterfall, the wet linen she wore did nothing to conceal her beautiful body.

  He pulled his tunic over his head, his boots making a soft thud as they landed in the grass. But ’twas enough to alert his wife she was no longer alone.

  “Douglas,” she cried out as she dove into the water to reach him.

  Unbuckling his weapon belt, he let his sword fall to the ground. He tore off the rest of his clothes before he plunged head-first into the water. Catherine wrapped her arms around his neck.

  “Oh, how I have missed you,” she purred in his ear, and ’twas all the encouragement Douglas needed.

  He took full possession of her with a soul-stealing kiss, their tongues dancing together. He floated with her toward the narrow beach behind the waterfall. His feet finally touched the bottom of the pond, and he desperately wanted to plunge
his manhood into the heat of his wife. He was prepared to carry Catherine to shore, but instead, she wrapped her legs around his hips, and came down on his manhood.

  He groaned in pleasure as she began to move. His hands slid beneath her bottom, helping her keep up a steady rhythm. Their pace reached frantic heights, for they were starving for one another. He swore the next time he took her, he would control their lovemaking, not that he was complaining, he loved the feel of her body against his, her hunger for him. She kissed him again, and Douglas knew he would never leave this woman again.

  She tore her lips from his and screamed out his name when she reached her climax. He thrust once more and released his seed deep inside her. He finally moved to lie down on the sand, keeping Catherine on top of him, still buried inside her.

  Those hazel eyes stared down at him, and he felt as if he was staring into heaven itself. He was unsure when such sentimental nonsense began to fill his head. ’Twas due to the woman who had slowly crept her way into his heart.

  “We could have made use of the tent,” she teased, pointing to the shelter.

  “Aye, I suppose we could have but this was much nicer,” Douglas replied, almost embarrassed he spent himself so quickly. He tossed her a wicked grin, thinking of ways he would make it up to her. “So…ye missed me?” He gave a light laugh even while she smacked at his chest.

  “You do not have to be so arrogant about such a sensitive matter.” She smiled before her face fell. “There is much we need to talk about.”

  Douglas lifted her and began carrying her to their tent. “Aye, we do, but for now, let us not think on anything other than pleasing one another. We must make up for lost time.”

  “But what about Berwyck?” she asked, winding her arms around his neck and playing with a lock of his hair.

  “Berwyck has been standing for centuries, my love. The place can wait a bit longer.” He trailed kisses down to her shoulder.

  “That is nice…” she whispered, apparently lost in what he was doing to her as he entered the tent and laid her down on the pallet. “Wait! My love…?”

  “Aye. I love ye, Catherine MacLaren,” he murmured, kissing her again til he left her breathless. “Do ye have any objections?”

  “None at all.”

  He’d kiss every inch of her luscious form in an effort to redeem himself. But she apparently had other ideas in mind. He let her have her way as he laid down on his back and pulled her on top to straddle his body.

  Catherine rested her arms on his chest, trailing her fingers over this hair. “Douglas…”

  “Aye, my love?”

  “I love you, too,” she confessed before leaning down to kiss him.

  “Show me.”

  Far into the evening hours, Catherine proved to him that he would never regret taking a de Wolf as his wife. Exhausted, they finally found sleep still wrapped in each other’s arms.

  Catherine tended the garden outside of Berwyck’s kitchen. A hint of a smile touched her lips while she remembered how attentive Douglas had been as he made love to her. For two days, they had left their troubles behind and stayed in their hidden paradise, a perfect way to at last celebrate their union. She had no complaints.

  “There ye are,” Shona said as she rushed through the gate. “I have been looking everywhere for ye.”

  “Is something wrong,” Catherine asked, worried that Cathal had escaped the dungeon.

  Upon learning she would decide his fate, she had immediately ordered him to be taken out of that nasty pit. No person, no matter how foul, deserved such treatment. As to his punishment, Catherine left that for Douglas to decide. The man is Douglas’s clansman, and she would not stand between the laird of the clan and whatever decision he made.

  “Laird Douglas asked me tae find ye, milady. He wants ye join him in the inner bailey.” Shona offered Catherine a hand up.

  She’d been kneeling on the hard ground longer than she thought. Her knees ached as did her back.

  “Mayhap I can change first,” Catherine suggested, looking at the dirt on her gown.

  “Ye look fine as ye are, Lady Catherine. Our laird was most insistent ye join him right away.”

  They made their way through the gate and back into the kitchens where Catherine paused to check on the evening meal, not that Cook needed her approval. He managed his kitchens like Douglas trained his knights. She nodded in approval and swore the man beamed with pride.

  As they walked through the hall, Shona paused. “All will be well, Lady Catherine. Although times will be trying in the years to come, I see ye will have many children about ye to give ye great joy.”

  Catherine did nothing to hide her shock. “You have the sight?”

  Shona nodded. “Not that I will admit it aloud, but I wished tae offer ye some comfort if ye still have doubts about being amongst the clan.”

  “Thank you for easing my mind, Shona. I know most will consider me an outsider for some time. Hopefully, the clan will eventually see I care for them as much as Laird Douglas.”

  Shona gave her a strange look, but there was no time to worry about it.

  “Are ye ready?” Shona reached for the door latch.

  “I suppose I am,” Catherine answered. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and Shona opened the door.

  Douglas stood on the landing near the steps. The inner bailey was filled with every member of the clan who lived within Berwyck’s protective walls. Her husband held out his hand for Catherine to take and he pulled her close to stand next to him. He raised her hand to his lips.

  “Hear me and hear me well,” he began, his voice sounding proud as he officially presented his wife to their people. “Behold my lady wife. This is Catherine MacLaren and mistress of Berwyck Castle. Treat her as ye would treat me. Serve her as though ye are serving any member of my family. Any dishonor ye do tae her, will be met in kind. Tonight we celebrate our union with a feast. From this day forward, her place will be by my side, and God help any person who tries tae take her from me again!”

  Catherine’s eyes misted at his words but more so when he pulled her into his arms and preceded to kiss her with all the passion they had shared while they were in private. A cheer rose from the crowd, and Catherine’s cheeks heated. Still…she had never been happier.

  Catherine’s wrapped her arms around Douglas’s waist. “That was some announcement,” she murmured. “Do you always make such speeches to your people?”

  He snorted, then kissed her again. “Our people… And I was trying tae make a point. Surely they no longer have any grievances against our marriage.”

  “Where do we go from here?” she asked in a breathy whisper, even as uncertainly threatened the happiness she hoped awaited them.

  “Come with me.” He took her hand and ushered her inside.

  She thought he would take her to their chamber. Instead, he continued up the turret til he opened the door at the top floor.

  A blast of ocean breeze met her face as she followed him up to the parapet. Douglas waved his arm at the view before them.

  “Our land stretches as far as yer eyes can see, Catherine. Together, we shall watch our bairns grow if we are so blessed.” He tugged her close.

  “But what about us in the meantime. Where do you and I go from this point forward?”

  “Ah, lass…we shall love each other so that generations from now will recall how we lived for all time and eternity.”

  Catherine sighed at such a loving declaration, and as Douglas claimed her lips, she knew he had also taken possession of her heart. She may not have set out to love a Scottish laird, but she knew in her soul there was no other place she would rather be than right here by his side.

  She loved Douglas, and was loved in return. She could not ask for more from him than that…

  Epilogue

  Berwyck Castle, 1155

  Douglas quietly opened his chamber door so as not to disturb his sleeping wife. His mother and Freya both sat in chairs near the fire, each holding a
tiny bundle. He still was in awe that his wife delivered not one but two bairns. Twins…who would believe such a miracle?

  Catherine stirred in the bed, and he went to her, carefully sitting on the edge of the mattress.

  “I will not break, Douglas, so come closer, my love,” she murmured wearily. “I am not the first woman to go through such an ordeal as your mother would surely attest.”

  As she began to sit up, Douglas moved to help her. “I do not wish ye tae be in pain, Catherine,” he mused, wondering how the poor woman would ever recover for them to make love again, let alone have another bairn.

  The babes started to cry then, and Myra brought the boy to Catherine. She offered him her breast to nurse. But the girl would not wait her turn, and Catherine laughed. “Freya, bring her to me, I can handle both at the same time.”

  Myra chuckled. “Ye are made of sturdy stuff, Catherine MacLaren, and ye do us proud.” His mother bent forward and kissed Catherine’s forehead.

  Douglas forced away a tear that somehow had formed in his eye. He was getting to be a bit too sentimental and would need to make up for it in the lists come the morn.

  “Get some rest while ye may. They will demand much of yer attention now and in the coming years. Come along, Freya. They need some time together alone,” his mother said.

  Douglas watched the door close before he sat back against the pillow and watched his bairns nurse. Before long, they napped again, and Douglas reached out, taking his daughter’s small hand and counting her fingers.

  “We had planned on one bairn, wife, but I am not surprised that ye have surpassed my expectations and decided on giving me two healthy bairns,” he exclaimed as he kissed their perfectly-formed heads.

  “’Tis not as if I could plan such an outcome, husband,” she said with a raised brow. “You are pleased, then?”

  A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “How can ye ask? No father has ever been prouder.”