In Bed with a Highlander (13 page)

“Time,” she muttered. “I’ve run out of time. I was a fool for not being better prepared. I waited too long, ’tis God’s truth. I should have selected a husband long before now, but it was so peaceful at the abbey. I was lured into a false sense of security. Mother Serenity and I always spoke of the future, but with each passing day, the future loomed ever nearer.”

He shook his head and she glanced down at him, puzzled by his refusal.

“You did just right, Mairin. You waited.”

Confused, she wrinkled her nose and asked, “What did I wait for, Laird?”

He smiled then, and she saw the arrogance etched in every facet of his face. “You waited for me.”

Oh, but the man knew how to ruin her mood. ’Twas the truth, she thought he did it apurpose. She sighed, for it did her little good to continue to deny his suit. She knew and he knew that she’d marry him. There was no other choice. But he wanted the words, so she’d give him the words.

“I’ll marry you.”

His eyes gleamed in triumph. She thought he’d tease her some more, perhaps tell her it was high time she’d come to her senses. But he did none of those things. He kissed her.

One moment he was a respectable distance away. The next he was so close that she was enveloped by his scent.

He took her chin and tipped it up so he could fit his mouth to hers. Warm—nay, hot—and getting hotter with each passing second, his lips moved over hers like velvet.

It was an impressive feat that he could kiss her and all her senses fled. For a man who was constantly reminding her to come to hers, he seemed to take great delight in making them flee again.

His tongue rasped across her lips, and when she kept them tightly closed, he turned light and coaxing. He teased the seam of her mouth, licking and then nibbling. This time he didn’t order her to open her mouth, and despite her determination not to do so, she found herself sighing in utter bliss.

As soon as her lips parted, his tongue slipped inside, probing and stroking with delicate precision. Each caress incited a deep response, one that she was at a loss to explain. How could kissing make her breasts go tight
and other parts of her body tingle and swell until she felt near pain?

He evoked a restless, cagey feeling that made her want to squirm right out of her skin. And when he raised his hands to slide them up her arms, she shivered, trembling all the way down to her toes.

When he pulled away, she was dazed and she stared at him in absolute confusion.

“Ah, lass, what you do to me,” he whispered.

She blinked rapidly as she attempted to gather herself. This was a time when she needed to be solemn and sage. Offer something about how their marriage would be strong and based on mutual respect.

But none of those things would form in her mind. Quite simply, his kisses reduced her to a blithering idiot.

“You don’t kiss the correct way,” she blurted out.

Mortified that this was all she could manage to say, she closed her eyes and prepared herself for his censure.

When she reopened them, all she saw was deep amusement. The man looked fair to laughing. Her eyes narrowed. It was obvious he needed instruction on the matter.

“And what, pray tell, is the correct way?”

“You must keep your mouth closed.”

“I see.”

She nodded to reinforce her statement. “Aye, there are no tongues involved in kissing. ’Tis undignified.”

“Undignified?”

Again she nodded. This was going better than she imagined. He was taking her instructions quite well.

“Mother Serenity told me that kisses are for the cheek or the mouth, but only in very intimate situations. And they shouldn’t last overlong. Just enough to convey the proper emotion. She never mentioned anything about a tongue. It can’t be proper for you to kiss me and stick your tongue inside my mouth.”

His lips twitched in a suspicious manner. He even put a hand to his mouth and rubbed firmly for several moments before he lowered it and said, “And your Mother Serenity is an authority on kissing, is she?”

She nodded vigorously. “Oh aye. She told me everything I needed to know for the eventuality of my marriage. She took her duty very seriously.”

“Perhaps you should instruct me personally on this kissing matter,” he said. “You could show me the way of it.”

She frowned but then remembered this was the man she was taking as her husband. In that case, she supposed it was entirely proper, and even expected, that she should offer instruction in the matter of loving. It was very decent of him to be so understanding and to offer to correct the matter immediately. Why, they were going to get along quite well.

Feeling much better about her impending nuptials, she leaned forward and pursed her lips, prepared to show him the way of it.

As soon as her lips touched his, he grasped her shoulders and hauled her even closer.

She felt swallowed up. Consumed. Like he was absorbing her very essence.

And despite her stern lecture and patient instruction, he used his tongue.

“Wake up, my lady! ’Tis your wedding day.”

Mairin pried open her eyes and groaned at the sight of the women crowding into her small chamber. She was exhausted. Her late-night escape attempts and the time spent pacing her chamber had caught up to her. After last night’s conversation with the laird, she’d fallen into a deep sleep.

One of the women threw aside the furs covering the window, and sunlight speared through Mairin’s eyeballs with razor-sharp clarity.

Her moan was louder this time and it set off a titter of laughter through the room.

“Our mistress doesn’t sound excited to be marrying our laird.”

“Christina, is that you?” Mairin grunted out.

“Aye, lady. ’Tis I. We’re having hot water brought up for a bath.”

“I bathed last evening,” Mairin said. Perhaps it would gain her an extra hour of sleep.

“Oh, but a bath on your wedding morning is a must. We’ll wash your hair and work sweet-smelling oils into your skin. Maddie makes them herself and they smell divine. The laird will be most appreciative.”

The laird wasn’t uppermost on her mind this morning. Sleep was.

Another giggle raced around the room, and Mairin realized that once again, she’d given voice to her thoughts.

“And we’ve brought you a gown to be married in,” another of the women said.

Mairin looked over, trying to remember the name of the young woman who was beaming excitedly at her. Mary? Margaret?

“Fiona, my lady.”

Mairin sighed. “Sorry. There are so many of you.”

“I took no offense,” Fiona said cheerfully. “Now would you like to see the gown we’ve fashioned for you?”

Mairin shoved herself up to her elbow and stared through bleary eyes at the assembled women. “Gown? You sewed a gown? But I agreed to marry the laird only last evening.”

Maddie didn’t look the least bit apologetic. She smiled broadly at Mairin as they held up the gown for her to see. “Oh, we knew it was only a matter of time before he persuaded you, lass. Aren’t you glad we began sewing? It took two solid days of round-the-clock sewing, but I think you’ll be happy with the result.”

Mairin stared at the beautiful creation in front of her. Tears crowded to the surface, and she blinked to keep them at bay. “ ’Tis beautiful.” And it was. It was rich green brocade and velvet with gold-trimmed sleeves and hem. Around the bodice were intricately embroidered designs with gold threads that shone in the sunlight.

“I’ve never seen anything to rival it,” she said.

The three women beamed back at her. Then Maddie went over to the bed and yanked the covers back. “You don’t want to keep the laird waiting. The priest arrived at dawn this morning, and the laird is quite impatient to have the ceremony done.”

“Nay, of course not,” Mairin said dryly. “It wouldn’t do to keep the laird waiting.”

For the next hour, the women washed, scrubbed, and rubbed Mairin from head to toe. By the time she was done with the bath and laid out on the bed for them to work in the scented oils, Mairin was perilously close to falling into unconsciousness.

They’d washed and dried her hair and then brushed it until it crackled and shined. It fanned over her back, satiny fine. Mairin had to admit, the women knew how to make a woman feel her best on her wedding day.

“All done,” Christina announced. “ ’Tis time for the dress and then you’re off to your wedding.”

Just then a knock sounded on the door and Gannon’s voice boomed through the heavy wood.

“The laird wants to know how much longer.”

Maddie rolled her eyes and then went to yank open the door, though she kept her body between Gannon and the inside of the room so he wouldn’t look on Mairin’s nakedness.

“You tell the laird we’ll have her down as soon as we can. These things can’t be rushed! Would you have the lass not looking her best on her wedding day?”

Gannon muttered an apology and then backed away, promising he’d relay the news to the laird.

“Now then,” Maddie said as she returned to Mairin. “Let’s get this gown on you and then downstairs to the laird.”

“They’ve been at it for hours,” Ewan muttered. “What could possibly take so long?”

“They’re women,” Alaric said, as if that explained everything.

Caelen nodded and turned up his mug to drain the last of his ale.

Ewan sat in his high-backed chair and shook his head. His wedding day. There was a marked difference in this day and the day he’d wed his first wife.

He hadn’t thought of Celia except in passing for quite some time now. Some days he had difficulty conjuring the image of his young wife to mind. The years had passed, and with each year, she’d faded more from his memory.

He’d been a much younger man when he’d wed Celia. She, too, had been young. Vibrant. He remembered that much. She always had a ready smile. He’d considered her a friend. They’d been childhood playmates before training had become his life. Years later, their fathers had seen fit to ally themselves and marriage between the clans made sense.

She’d borne him a child in their second year of marriage. By the time the third year rolled around, she was dead, his keep was in ruins, and his clan nearly decimated.

Aye, their wedding day had been a joyous occasion. They’d feasted and celebrated for three days. Her face had been alight with joy, and she’d smiled the entire time.

Would Mairin smile? Or would she come to their marriage with those same wounded eyes she’d had when she arrived?

“Where is she, Papa?” Crispen whispered beside him. “Do you think she changed her mind?”

Ewan turned to smile at his son. He stroked his hand over the lad’s hair in a reassuring manner. “She’s just getting dressed, son. She’ll be here. She gave her word, and as you know, she puts great store in keeping her word. Women like to look their best on their wedding day.”

“But she’s beautiful already,” Crispen protested.

“That’s true,” Ewan said. And it was. The lass wasn’t just beautiful, she was enchanting. “But they like to look extra special for just such occasions.”

“Does she have flowers? She should have flowers.”

Ewan almost laughed at the look of consternation on Crispen’s face. His son was more nervous than he. Ewan wasn’t nervous. Nay, he was just impatient and ready to have it done with.

“You don’t have flowers?” Crispen asked.

Ewan looked down at his son. Crispen looked so appalled that Ewan frowned.

“I didn’t give flowers any thoughts. But perhaps you’re right. Why don’t you go take up the matter with Cormac.”

Across the room, Cormac had evidently been listening in on the conversation. He looked as appalled as Crispen had, and he hastily took a step back. But Crispen was too fast and was immediately in front of the man, demanding that they go collect flowers for Mairin.

He shot Ewan a disgruntled look as he allowed himself to be tugged from the great hall.

“What the hell is taking them so long?” Caelen demanded. He shifted restlessly in his chair and spread out his long legs as he slouched lower. “This is a waste of a good training day.”

Ewan chuckled. “I wouldn’t consider my wedding day to be a waste of time.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Alaric said. “While the rest of us are out sweating, you’ll be enjoying a warm, sweet lass.”

“He’ll be sweating,” Caelen said slyly. “Just not in the way the rest of us are.”

Ewan held up his hand to staunch the bawdy talk before it caught on with the rest of the men. The last thing he needed was his prospective bride to walk in and be embarrassed to her toes.

Just then Maddie burst in, her cheeks rosy and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.

“She’s coming, laird!”

Ewan glanced over at the priest, who was enjoying a
mug of ale, and motioned him up. As Mairin rounded the corner, the entire hall stood in acknowledgment of her presence.

Ewan was momentarily struck dumb. The lass wasn’t just beautiful. She was utterly magnificent. Gone was the shy, somewhat awkward young woman and in her place was a lady with all the bearing of a descendent of royalty. She looked just like the princess she was.