Highland Sword Page 24

  “Aidan,” she said softly, trying to pull away.

  “My Dulcinea.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Do you love me?”

  “I love you. I love you. Of course I love you. I’ve told you that many times.”

  He kissed her and was once again taken by how passionately she responded. They stayed in each other’s arms for too short a time, however. The door to the library was open and anyone could walk in on them.

  “What really worries you, my love?”

  She held his gaze. “I’m too passionate, too opinionated, too volatile. Aren’t you afraid that I might put my dagger into the heart of anyone who doesn’t show you the proper respect?”

  “I’m counting on it.” He kissed her nose and placed kisses on each of her cheeks. “What do you think Sebastian’s calling has been?”

  “I don’t want to take his job.”

  “Have no fear about that. We could be going to London, which is a far more dangerous place than Edinburgh or Inverness. I need you both in my life.”

  She was still uncertain. He could tell. “Talk to me. Tell me what I can do to put your mind at ease.”

  “It’s not you,” she exploded. “I’m the problem. Ever since you asked me to marry you, I have no difficulty imagining myself meeting you on the kirk steps. It’s what comes afterward that fills me with doubts. I wasn’t raised in a traditional household. We had no women coming to call; there were no return visits. No darning or embroidery or lacemaking. No arranging of dinner parties. What do I know about being a wife to a person of importance? What do I know about being a wife, at all?”

  “What do I know about being a husband?”

  “Exactly. All the more reason for us to wait.”

  He smiled. “I hand you an imaginary sword and there sits a pell.” He gestured to a chair. “What do you do with it?”

  “Right now?”

  “Right now.”

  “I hammer it to pieces. Cut and slash it into kindling.”

  “Imagine this as a metaphor for our marriage.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “When you’re upset, when you need to release your frustration, you can use me like that chair. I’ll be your trusted old pell.”

  She shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “A marriage based on the training yard. You’ve lost your mind.”

  “A marriage that says we will work hard on everything and solve our problems together. A marriage that begins and continues with the promise that we’ll grow together and learn to complete each other.” Aidan cupped her face and looked into her beautiful dark eyes. “I love you, and you love me. I respect you, and you respect me. I want to spend the rest of my days with you, and I know you want the same. It’s foolish to let the lack of knowing a few parlor games get in the way of a lifetime of love. I would marry you today if you would say yes.”

  Her arms slipped around him. She pressed her face against his chest and held him. “I swear to you, if I could do it now, at this very moment, I would marry you. But I can make no guarantee about tomorrow. My cold feet could return by then.”

  He took her by the hand. “Come with me.”

  Aidan paid no attention to her questions or complaints. He took her out of the library and past the drawing room and down the stairs. They stopped by the laird’s study.

  She looked hopefully at him. “You’re going to tell Cinaed that you’ve reconsidered your decision?”

  “Marry me, Morrigan. Tell me now that you’ll marry me.”

  “I just told you I would … if it were today. But I can’t speak for tomorrow.”

  “Some decisions are irrevocable, my love.” He drew her to the chapel door.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Will you marry me, Miss Drummond?” he asked, pulling the door open.

  All of them were there. Morrigan’s gaze took in the people who’d gathered in the chapel. Family, friends, everyone that Morrigan knew. Isabella and Maisie stood just inside. At the very front of the chapel, Sebastian was standing beside a priest.

  Aidan knew her. He knew how she felt and what her fears were. If he waited, the time might never come that she conquered all of her doubts. Isabella had been indispensable in arranging this moment.

  It was a chance he had to take. But Morrigan needed to say yes.

  “What have you done?” she asked, her misty eyes meeting his.

  “The rules of fair play do not apply in love and war.”

  “Don Quixote. I should have known.” She took his hand. “I’ll marry you, Aidan Grant. I thought you’d never ask.”

  CHAPTER 33

  Aidan gazed across the Great Hall at his bride, who was speaking with Maisie and Isabella and a few other women by the fire. Food and drink continued to be carried in. There seemed to be no end to the Mackintosh hospitality.

  The wedding service had been conducted efficiently and with appropriate seriousness. But this celebratory reception had already seen more toasts than a royal dinner. Indeed, sobriety for most of the folk gathered in the Great Hall was already a thing of the distant past.

  And now Sebastian had cornered Aidan, with Cinaed, Searc, Blair, the priest, and a number of Mackintosh men forming a closed circle around them.

  “As your younger brother and best man,” he began, “In deference to our local man of the cloth, I’ve taken it upon myself to gather the wisdom of the ages regarding the conjugal aspect of your marital life.”

  Everyone boisterously raised a glass to the topic. By the devil, Aidan thought. This was going to be painful.

  “To begin.” Sebastian drew a sheet of paper from his coat. “After you’ve been married for three days—and there will be no intimacy before then, Highland traditions notwithstanding—there are a number of conditions that must be met every time before the act takes place.”

  “And you know all of this how?” Aidan challenged.

  “I’ve been studying.” Sebastian shook the page at his brother. “I’ve drawn up a list from theological tomes dealing with the subject.”

  “You’ve been studying marriage and sex. You.”

  “If you’d prefer, I have a wide range of damning tales about you, my dear brother. I’d be quite happy to have a nice long talk with Morrigan.” He turned to the priest. “It’s not too late for an annulment. Is it?”

  “Go on. Continue with your inanity,” Aidan suggested. “And keep your poisonous tales away from my bride’s unsuspecting ears.”

  A toast to the bride’s ears was followed by the pouring of another round of drinks.

  Sebastian drew a deep breath and continued. “Under pain of the fiery pit, brother, you cannot have sex on any feast day. You cannot have sex on any fast day. You cannot have sex during Whitsun week. Nor during Advent. And I know that you certainly wouldn’t dream of having sex at any time during Lent.”

  Sebastian paused to glance at his paper, and Aidan saw Morrigan eyeing them inquisitively. He made a gesture of wanting to strangle his brother. She smiled and shook her head. If she only knew.

  “It is, of course, also a sin to have sex during Easter week. And you will not be having sex on Wednesdays, nor on Fridays, nor on Saturdays or Sundays. What day is today?”

  “It’s Wednesday,” Searc barked.

  “Very sorry, brother. Also, you cannot have sex at any time during daylight hours. You cannot have sex unless you’re fully clothed. And, for heaven’s sake, try to remember that you cannot have sex in church.” Sebastian paused and bowed to the priest, who was staring wide-eyed. “And did I mention that the purpose of sex is to have a child?”

  The men around Aidan all concurred heartily.

  Sebastian placed the paper in Aidan’s hand and addressed him again. “Once all these conditions are met, you may proceed, but the giants of theology are clear on the subject that no strange positions will be employed. The church is very clear on that. The natural order must be observed; males on top. And you may only perform the act once. But that
may be the most she might expect, in any case.”

  Rowdy laughter ensued.

  “And now, do I get a chance to present my argument?” Aidan asked.

  “I don’t really believe any rebuttal is possible, considering the high authority I have drawn from for my treatise. But as you please.”

  “Then have a seat and listen.”

  Sebastian pulled up a chair and began to sit. Before he succeeded, however, Aidan kicked the chair from under him, sending his brother sprawling. Laughter echoed to the rafters.

  “There’s you natural order and your high authority too!” Aidan scoffed. Striding across the hall, he took Morrigan’s hand, and the two of them ran from the hall.

  * * *

  Morrigan and Aidan were married, truly and finally, and she felt almost giddy with excitement at what was ahead of them. Isabella had told them an apartment had been prepared for the newlyweds above the Great Hall.

  As they started up the stairs, she asked if Sebastian had provided anything of value.

  “I don’t give a damn if it is a Wednesday,” Aidan replied cryptically.

  “What is significant about Wednesdays?”

  “You don’t want to know.” He stopped in the corridor at the top of the stairs and pulled her against his body, kissing her lips. “I plan to make love to you seven days a week, day and night. Everywhere and anytime we get the opportunity. Does that suit you?”

  Morrigan laughed. “Shall we start in our library down here?”

  Maybe it was because the two of them had shared so many passionate moments in that room. Or maybe she simply wanted their first time together to be somewhere other than in a bed. She wanted no hint of her past casting a pall over their happiness.

  “As my lady wishes.”

  Hand in hand, they hurried into the library and locked the door. It was dark, but a full moon bathed the room in a blue light.

  “I wanted to kiss you and make love to you from the first moment I came in here and found you standing on that ladder.”

  He leaned toward her. All she could see were his lips as they brushed against hers.

  “And I wanted you to make love to me every time you kissed me, touched me, and teased me, but held back, reminding me that we had to get married first.”

  Aidan’s mouth took possession of hers. And as he pulled her tighter into his embrace, she felt herself melting, her lips parting, yielding to his, her body molding to him.

  Morrigan rose up on her tiptoes as she returned his kiss. She felt, rather than heard, his groan of approval as her body pressed against him.

  What they were doing and where they were doing it was wild and sweet. Her senses were so alive, so ready for his next touch. She welcomed his kisses, thrillingly aware of her own exhilaration and the rising need within her.

  His hands roamed over her body. He caressed her breasts, her back, the curve of her buttocks. When he pressed her back against the door, the feel of his erection elicited a gasp from her. She felt no fear, but a sense of wonder rippled through her.

  “I want you so much, Morrigan,” he murmured against her lips. “But you must stop me if I’m going too fast.”

  “And I want you.”

  Her body arched against him as he pushed a thigh between hers. She gasped at the sweet pressure. He pulled up her skirts, and she held her breath as his hand sought her beneath it. Morrigan gasped when his fingers found her sex. Her body tensed.

  “I won’t hurt you.” His voice was a breath in her ear. “You can let go, my love.”

  Let go. Let go of fears. Let go of nightmares. Letting go of a lifetime of uncertainties. She focused on his touch. His palm was cupping her mound and his fingers slipped into her folds. A maddening pressure was building within her as he continued stroking her. This was unlike anything she’d ever known. She realized her breaths were becoming shorter.

  She wanted more. Her mind screamed for more. Every part of her body cried out to be touched. An insatiable need was rising, pulsing through her. Her hands were around him, drawing him tightly against him. In the midst of this frenzy, she felt his hips press even more intimately against her. There was a shifting of her weight in his arms.

  “Don’t stop.” She kissed his throat. “Give me more.”

  “There is no stopping,” he laughed, his voice husky. “I’m too far gone for that.”

  He suddenly swept her up in his arms. She smiled as he carried her effortlessly to the desk.

  With a sweep of his hand, everything went flying to the floor. But neither one of them cared as he lowered her onto it.

  He paused. “I can still take you to our bed.”

  “Here. Now.”

  He pushed her skirts up, and she shuddered as he slid his hands along her thighs and over her hips. Stepping forward, he pressed himself between her knees.

  She’d never imagined this would be the way. All the nightmarish memories of a night long ago were gone. As Aidan pressed his hard body ever closer, she welcomed the change in him, too. He was losing control.

  “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did what he told her as he opened the front of his breeches.

  The moment was coming, and she held her breath. But when he touched her so gently with his fingertips, parting the folds and then probing and stroking her, she lost any lingering shred of hesitation. She rode his fingers, pressing herself against his palm, welcoming the pressure of his thumb. Her release was sudden and explosive, and she muffled her cries against his shoulder.

  When he entered her, waves of pleasure continued to roll through her. She felt him deep within her. Slowly at first, and then with gathering speed, he began to move. Morrigan’s brain began to take flight once again. To have him fit so perfectly inside her. To feel his breaths so warm on her neck, in her ear. To hear his heart drumming so solidly in his chest. He was driving them both to near madness.

  Ever higher they rose, and she found herself matching the driving beat of his body with her own, until once again, as ecstasy obliterated all thought within her, she felt his straining body go rigid, and she knew, somehow, that they were soaring into the same sky.

  Moments later, he placed his forehead against her cheek and softly kissed her. She felt wonderful. Amazing. Gathering her husband closer into her embrace, she also felt whole. New. Strong. And happy.

  CHAPTER 34

  MORRIGAN

  Two weeks later

  The duke’s ship was expected to arrive in the harbor any time now, and the past few days had been a whirlwind of activity. Everything was in place, however. At least, Morrigan hoped so.

  Inviting Sir Rupert Burney to dine with Niall Campbell, Maisie, and Aidan at Searc’s house in the Maggot gave Morrigan the distinct feeling that they’d invited the fox into the henhouse. But because the dinner was being held with the added company of Colonel Wade from Fort George, the Lord Mayor of Inverness, Captain Kenedy, and the surgeon Mr. Carmichael, there was at least some sense of safety in numbers. Cinaed and Isabella had remained at Dalmigavie; they were both still wanted as enemies of the Crown by the Home Office.

  As she looked around the table now, Morrigan was reminded that so many people in the room had suffered at the hands of Sir Rupert. Once he arrived, the tension in the room was barely restrained within the paper-thin veneer of civility.

  For her part, Morrigan had promised Aidan that she wouldn’t cut the man’s throat. She stayed true to her oath when she was introduced as Mrs. Grant, and the news of their recent nuptials was shared. Her foe stared at her with a look that insinuated he’d not given her the permission to be anyone’s wife.

  In recent weeks, the two of them had remained at loggerheads. She wanted her father’s letter from him. Sir Rupert wanted to know the location of the meeting between Cinaed and the duke. After tonight, Morrigan guessed none of it would matter.

  Searc had strategically arranged the seating so Niall would not sit anywhere near the Home Office official. The former lieutenant would certainly take Bur
ney’s head off with a butter knife at the slightest provocation. The bad blood between the two men was prodigious since, on one side, Niall’s sister Fiona had been imprisoned for months by Sir Rupert and, on the other side, the Highlander had been a vital player in the reunion of Queen Caroline and Cinaed, an event that sent Burney’s career spinning off course. In the process, Niall’s efforts had cost Sir Rupert the service of an entire network of spies.

  As course after course of food was served, Morrigan noticed Sir Rupert taking in his surroundings with an expression of understandable surprise. The dining room was grander than anyone would imagine, looking at the house from the outside. The finest crystal and silver gleamed in the light of hundreds of candles, and attentive servers circulated with the finesse one might expect only in the households of Britain’s aristocratic elite. It was all part of the façade that the master of the house delighted in. A diamond had many sides, and so did Searc Mackintosh.

  “Are you a first-time visitor to this wee oasis in the Maggot, sir?” Captain Kenedy asked of Sir Rupert, who was sitting beside him.

  “I am, sir.”

  “Mackintosh is known for his hospitality and for spoiling his guests.” The ship owner raised his voice, addressing the host. “If you would only improve the outside of this place, then we could be entertaining His Grace, the good Duke of Clarence, here instead of at my humble abode across the river.”

  “Humble, you say.” Searc snorted. He raised his glass in return.

  “You’re entertaining His Grace?” Sir Rupert asked. One would never have guessed from his expression that the fox knew anything about it.

  “Aye, that I am. In three nights. A great honor, I don’t mind saying. I’m only hoping that the weather holds, and his ship comes to port in time.” Kenedy paused. “I’d have assumed that you would be accompanying His Grace?”

  “Those arrangements will be determined once the duke arrives.”

  “This will be an historic meeting,” Colonel Wade said from across the table.

  “You know about the meeting, sir?” Rupert asked, unable to keep a hint of accusation out of his tone.