by Terry Spear
Marcus couldn’t help the way her words made his staff rise.
“What about you, Marcus? You had already been with a woman, aye? So you knew what it would be like. Did you ever think how it would be with me?”
“You dinna know the half of it, lass. I always imagined what it would be like to kiss you and… more. I could barely ride after we kissed at the loch.”
“I loved the way you kissed me there, and I will cherish those moments always. I loved how you felt against me when we were sharing that special time.”
He chuckled. “I was ready to take you into the woods and have my wicked way with you, claim you for my wife right then and there, and dispense with waiting for your da to agree.”
“I would have gone with you willingly.” She sighed. “Even if you could have managed when you were wounded. Anything to encourage my father to capitulate.” Then she frowned at Marcus. “Did the same thing happen to you while we were dancing?”
“Lass, all you have to do is breathe in the same space as me.”
She smiled and kissed him soundly. “I love you, Highlander.”
“My bonny lass, you are my greatest treasure.” He kissed her again, then closed his eyes, wanting to cherish this time with his lovely wife, resting together in his bed, holding her sweet body against his, safe from any danger.
“And you mine.” Isobel was glad she had felt nothing but pleasure with their joining this time as she luxuriated in the feel of her braw warrior. She listened to his heart thumping and the noise down below, amused at just how raucous his people were getting. “I think they are getting louder, if that is at all possible.”
He smiled and tightened his hold on her. “I think they are getting closer.”
She laughed. “You mean they are bringing the celebration to us?”
“In case we might have fallen asleep.”
She shook her head at the notion. “Let us join them then.”
He groaned and kissed her forehead. “And retire early.”
“Aye.” She was all for that and climbed off him, but then realized she had nothing to wear.
“I will send up a maid with some clothes.” Marcus hurried to get dressed while Isobel covered herself in his furs.
When he opened the door, he found garments for Isobel to wear.
“My staff has brought you clothes.” He shut the door and carried the items to the bed.
She thought that he would leave her to her dressing, but he didn’t.
He seemed to take great pleasure in helping her to dress in the dark blue wool gown. She smiled when she noticed he was becoming aroused again immediately after pulling her chemise over her breasts. She loved how he said just breathing in the same space with her could do that to him.
“Aye, lass, I told you. I canna see you naked, help you to dress or undress, or hold you close without my body reacting to yours.”
She loved him because of it for it made her feel adored, just as much as she appreciated his beautiful form. When she was ready, he opened the door, and they heard the sound of footfalls hurrying down the stairs.
“Was someone spying on us, do you think?” she asked, surprised.
“Aye, warning the others that we are coming down.”
That gave her chill bumps. She knew as soon as they walked into the great hall, the whole place would grow quiet, in part, out of respect for their laird, and in part, because they would be curious about her. Would they be pleased that she was the lady of the manor now? Or resentful that she was a Norman earl’s daughter and not all Highlander after all?
Chapter 18
Before Isobel and Marcus even reached the great hall, the place turned deathly quiet. Except for a few chuckles, a few clinks of tankards against the wooden trestle tables, the scurry of claws against the stone floor, there was no conversation whatsoever and Isobel knew then that someone had indeed warned everyone that she and Marcus were coming down to join them.
Suddenly, two deerhounds raced out of the great hall to greet them. Her father’s deerhounds were grayer in color, whereas these wore beautiful red fawn coats. Their ears were semi-erect with excitement and the bristly-haired dogs nearly smiled as they saw Marcus and her and headed their way. Normally gentle dogs, they were also extremely friendly, and she loved them already.
Isobel braced for the impact while Marcus tried to intercept them. “Down,” he ordered, but they were unruly young dogs and were jumping and licking them all over.
Laughing and greeting them back, Isobel hugged each of them before they settled down.
“They are adorable.” She considered the two of them. “Male and female. When will they have pups?”
Marcus laughed and shook his head. “You will want to be mothering them.”
“Aye. I am ready. I helped raise pups at my father’s keep. He even gave one to King Henry. Though the man who was to raise them for hunting was supposed to keep me from playing with them and ruining them for the hunt.”
“Did he?”
“Nay. I always have my way. Well, almost always. And the dogs were still great hunters. See, all you need is a bright smile and a cheerful disposition and it will make all the difference in the world in getting your way.”
“I will have to remember that,” he said, smiling down at her.
“You always get your own way. You are a laird in your own right.”
“No’ where it mattered the most. No’ with you until the end.”
She sighed. “Aye, ‘tis true.”
“But it all turned out well. That is all that matters.” He escorted her into the great hall where she felt warm all over again as everyone rose from their benches and watched her walk with Marcus to the dais. The dogs hurried alongside them as if they were to sit at the high table as well.
It looked as though it was killing everyone to hold their tongues as they smiled broadly at them until Marcus took his seat alongside Isobel and gave the word to allow the festivities to continue.
He raised his tankard that a servant hastily had filled. “To my bonny wife.”
“May you have dozens of bairns,” Angus called out.
Everyone laughed and cheered.
Isobel felt she had been slaving over the fire all day long, her skin was so hot. Marcus leaned down and kissed her cheek, then whispered in her ear, “We will have to retire early and make it come true.”
She laughed. “I am already burning up from embarrassment, husband.”
“May we always have peace with the…English,” Niall shouted out, raising his tankard in the direction of Lord Wynfield.
Everyone was getting loud again, whistling and whooping it up, having the time of their lives.
“Are your celebrations always this cheerful?” At least this Highland clan gathering seemed so much more boisterous and earthier.
“Aye.”
They had begun to eat, though many had finished their meals by the time she and Marcus had arrived, but she noted their food was already set out on the table in anticipation of their arrival. The hounds were waiting for scraps from their plates, which made her think that was why they were sitting by them, and not entirely because they were devoted to Marcus.
“What are their names?”
“Crevan, for fox for his red coloring and his tendency to steal food if he can manage, and Oona, the female, meaning one. She is the first female deerhound the clan has owned.”
“They are beautiful and I will enjoy playing with their pups when they get here.” She ate some of the wild boar from her plate, but was curious about a discussion from their travels here. “Earlier you mentioned something I have wondered about—the woman who was your ward and you were trying to convince one of your cousins to wed her.”
“Aye, her da had been gravely ill and he asked me to find her a husband. Someone I knew who would be good for her. Immediately, I thought of my cousins and wanted them to meet and get to know her. But her uncle stole her away when she was visiting one of her cousins. So I havena had any succ
ess in getting her back since he is her relation and I am no’.”
“Why did you no’ marry her?”
Marcus looked down at Isobel, his brows elevated. “I canna believe you would ask me such a question. She is like a sister to me. And you are the only one I have ever wanted to wed.” He glanced at the Chattan brothers. “Among all the brothers, surely one will be the right man for her. I had hoped that while she stayed with me, they would visit and one of them would appeal. Then they were incarcerated in a dungeon, and well, by the time they were set free and arrived at Lochaven, she was gone.”
“And you wanted me to meet her.”
“Aye. She could use a friend, someone who would be like a sister to her.”
“I can be that. I will pray she is returned to us and I will do anything to help.” Isobel glanced at the Chattan brothers, seeing them anew. They were protective and good fighters, but coming to stay with Marcus as suitors for the lass when they didn’t know her, well, that was more than chivalrous. “Which one would be best suited to her?”
Marcus laughed. “That is something that will have to be decided between one of them and the lass. Though it doesna mean that any of them would suit. Only that they are some of my favorite cousins, and I would love to see her wed to one of them. They are good men. And I believe any of them would make suitable husbands. Though…Drummond, the youngest, might take a little longer before he is ready for a wife.”
“What about your friend Gunnolf?”
Marcus considered him as he tossed a scrap of boar to one of the dogs. “Aye, he would be an acceptable husband for the lass, though he has declared he willna marry any time soon.”
She nodded, but then considered another matter that had been troubling her. “Marcus, we still have not discovered who the man was who orchestrated the killing of the men escorting me, nor who ordered the men to murder you. I had thought the one in charge was the same man who had nearly murdered my father. But that was John, and well, you do not think he was responsible for both of the other ambushes.”
“Nay. I still believe, as I did then, that it is more personal. Likely one of your seven suitors. Tell me about them.”
“I only know that Lord Neville, Erickson, and Hammersfield, who had been discussing my mother and me in an infuriatingly irritating way, had been given permission to court me.”
“Also Lord Fenton was no longer allowed to because you broke his nose, and you finally told your da you feared Fenton would retaliate if you were to wed him.”
“Aye.”
“And Lord Wynfield.”
“He is way too old.”
“Aye, but he was given permission to court you.” Marcus finished his boar and began to eat a wedge of cheese.
“Aye.” She sipped some of her mead.
“That is four. Who else is left?”
“Three unnamed suitors. I do not know.”
“Your da wouldna tell you?”
He seemed surprised and irritated, but she smiled. “Nay, I did not wish to know. I told my father I would marry only you.”
Marcus smiled, then he frowned. “So three others. Can you guess as to who they were?”
“Mayhap the two knights who had earned manors for their service to the king. But I do not know that for certain. Sir Edward is one, and Sir Thornton, the other.”
“Then we must discover from your da who the other three suitors are for certain.”
“What if it was John? Only instead, he had you ambushed rather than showing up to fight you.” She finished off her bread and looked up at Marcus and frowned.
“He had not been to Torrent Castle recently, had he?”
“Nay.” She hated that they still didn’t know anything more about it.
“Lord Wynfield would know, would he not? He is your da’s advisor. He probably even recommended who should court you as far as the benefit it would be to your da and his name.”
“Aye. After we celebrate, we must speak with him.”
“I had other plans in mind. As long as you are feeling all right,” Marcus quickly added.
“I so appreciate how considerate you are of how I feel, Highlander. But I am half Highland lass,” she reminded him, tickled by his concern.
He chuckled and leaned over to kiss her, but when she took hold of his arm and responded in a manner highly improper for an earl’s daughter, he deepened it, plunging his tongue in her mouth, and pulled her closer. She adored him for being all that he was. She didn’t even realize how quiet the great hall had become until they broke off the kiss and everyone started cheering.
Marcus raised his tankard and grinned.
Amused at his very male response, she felt the heat rise all over her skin again. She would have to remember that despite how noisy the great hall was and as much fun as everyone was having, many were watching their laird and his new bride to see how they behaved during the proceedings. It might not be as formal as with the English, but the Highlanders were very much like her courtiers at home. Everyone would talk for months about this eve, she suspected.
She loved it here and loved the people so far, but she was already missing her own staff, Mary, Jane, and her father. She now knew what it must have been like for her mother when she had moved so far away from home and left her people behind to live with Isobel’s father and his people. It wasn’t the same as going for a visit. This was her new way of life.
Isobel could see how important it had been for Mary to stay with her mother through the years. At least her mother had Marcus to visit with, and keep her informed of what was happening back home. Isobel wouldn’t have that luxury. Though she could write to her father. But it wasn’t the same.
“Can we go home to see my father from time to time?” she asked Marcus.
He looked down at her so tenderly, she blinked back tears.
“Lass, are you already homesick?”
“Nay, well, once I get to know the people and Mary is here, and I learn what I need to do, I am sure I will be busy enough and feel more settled.”
“I will talk your da into coming here for the wedding and bringing Mary with him. Is there anyone else you would like to have join you here?”
“Nay. I love Jane dearly, but she is a knight’s daughter and has her heart set on marrying a knight. I think if she came here she would be homesick and wish to return to Torrent Castle.”
“You will make friends here, of that I have no doubt.”
“Aye.” She sighed.
“I canna allow you to travel anywhere until we have this matter cleared up concerning who killed your escort and tried to murder me.”
“Aye.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “But I will do everything in my power to make you feel at home.”
She nodded.
“Even encourage Oona and Crevan to have pups.”
She laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder, prizing him for everything he was to her.
“Are you tired?” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“A little, but I am enjoying the revelry. If we go to bed now, all the noise would keep us awake.”
He smiled down at her. “That is not all.”
“Are you ready again?”
He laughed out loud. “Aye. With you? Always.”
If it hadn’t been for wanting more than anything to take his wife to bed to ravish her again, and then sleep with her, until they wished to make love again, Marcus would take Lord Wynfield aside and ask him just who else had been given Lord Pembroke’s permission to court Isobel. Marcus wouldn’t discount Lord Fenton either, whose name had been stricken from the list because of the childhood incident.
Lord Wynfield looked done in, most likely from the injury to his leg. And Isobel, despite her saying she wished to stay up later, was leaning so heavily against his shoulder, he knew she was about to fall asleep. He couldn’t have that.
He was certain that once she was with child, and was settled in with her new family, she would be happy.
Marcus motioned to Rob and when he joined him, Isobel didn’t even straighten, and he knew then she was asleep. “Rob, see that Lord Wynfield is taken to a room and that a maid cares for his injury. I dinna want the man dying on us.”
“Aye.” Rob looked down at the lass. “You have worn her out.”
“I hadna intended to this early. Ask Duff to see if he can…well, encourage Oona and Crevan to have some pups.” As if anyone needed to encourage them when she was ready to mate.
Smiling, Rob raised his brows, then glanced from Isobel back to Marcus and whispered, “She isna already homesick, is she?”
“Some, I am afraid. We will have to keep her busy so that she feels she is important to the clan and is enjoying her home here.”
“Aye. I will spread the word.” Then Rob grinned. “But I dinna have to tell you how you can ensure she doesna wish to leave here.”
Before Marcus could say a word to his cousin, Rob stalked off to give the order to move Lord Wynfield to a chamber. Marcus carefully rose from his chair, keeping hold of Isobel’s shoulders without waking her. As soon as he stood, he lifted her in his arms and said, “As you can see, ‘tis time for my bride and me to be abed. Feel free to continue to celebrate without me.” Then he glanced at Finbar. “Cousin, you are in charge.”
Finbar grinned and saluted him with his tankard.
Marcus carried Isobel off to bed. This time, instead of cheers, everyone was respectful and quiet, as if they feared waking the lass. He couldn’t have appreciated his clansmen more.
When he reached his chamber, he found a servant had lighted the tallow candles inside, then he shut the door behind him and deposited Isobel gently on the bed. He stripped off his clothes first before he removed hers, wishing they could have made love before they fell asleep. But after the long day they’d had, the riding, fighting, and her swimming in the loch in her gowns, she was worn out. She needn’t worry about the half of her that was English. They were just as hardy as the Highlanders, and Isobel proved that time and again.
Marcus removed Isobel’s clothes, admired her beauty, wishing again that she had not fallen asleep, then doused the candles, and climbed into bed. Isobel immediately curled up against him. He loved the intimacy between them, her soft, warm, naked body pressed against his. In the short time they’d been together, he couldn’t imagine them ever being apart again.
