Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection

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Heroes of Honor: Historical Romance Collection Page 92

by Laurel O'Donnell


  Mairghread listened to every word he said. While some parts made her want to crumple up inside, she understood what he was explaining. She looked at him and saw the truth and honesty in his eyes. She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes, breathing in his unique scent even though they had just bathed. She turned her face towards him and kissed his chest over his heart. She could not bring herself to move from that position.

  “Tristan, I love ye so vera much. Each time I am with ye, it is even more intense than aught else I have ever experienced. These feelings along with everything that has happened in the past day are overwhelming. They were too much for me for a moment, but I dinna regret what we just did. It scared me to think I felt more than ye did. That I feel more than ye ever will.”

  “I love ye with all that I am. I have experienced naught like this before, and all of it is just between the two of us.”

  Tristan kissed the top of her head and run his hand up and down her back. He understood her reaction. He would be a jealous beast if the situation were reversed. If there had been any men who had touched her before him, he would have been driven to kill them.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  T

  hey dressed and gathered their few belongings. A maid brought up a kirtle for Mairghread to wear when she came with a tray from which they broke their fast. It was a sure hint her brothers were becoming impatient for her if they sent food. Her brothers would not wait any longer once Tristan and Mairghread arrived below stairs. They were in the Great Hall in less than ten minutes from when the maid brought everything to them.

  Callum, Alexander, and Tavish glared at Tristan, and Magnus just smirked at Mairghread. She shrugged and smiled innocently. Her oldest three brothers looked ready to murder Tristan, but she wrapped her arm around his and led him outside. Laird MacDonnell waited for them in the bailey. Lady Beatris and Sorcha were thankfully nowhere to be seen. Laird MacDonnell’s face looked the worse for wear. His eyes were blackened, and his nose was swollen and crooked. He had a large bruise on his jaw. Mairghread looked at him and then each of the five towering men who surrounded her.

  “Dinna glare at me. I was with ye the whole time,” Magnus whispered to her.

  “Laird MacDonnell, thank ye for taking me in and providing me with a gown in which to travel.”

  Mairghread tried to be gracious, but her comment was met with quiet grumbles. She looked around and saw none of the men were as thankful or forgiving as she was. She decided it was best to leave it at that and said no more.

  “MacDonnell, thank ye.” That was the most that Tristan would say to his neighbor. He accepted MacDonnell was not solely responsible for what happened on his land or in his keep, but his lack of awareness had nearly cost Mairghread her innocence and her life. He was not ready to let that go.

  The MacDonnell nodded his head and bid them goodbye. Mairghread noticed there were only five horses left without riders. One was not available for her, so she turned to Tristan and followed him. She felt hands wrap around her waist from behind, making her squeal. Magnus carried her towards his horse and was ready to lift her onto the horse’s bare back when she kicked him in the shin.

  “Put me down, ye wee beastie!”

  It was laughable, but it was a term she had used since they were close in size many moons ago. It had stuck much like the horse named Tavish. She slapped at his hands and pried his fingers off her.

  “I amnae riding with ye, and ye ken it.”

  “Dinna ye think ye spent enough time with yer future groom this morning? The sun is almost overhead, and half the day is gone.”

  The sun was barely over the horizon despite how long they had spent alone in her chamber. Mairghread pointed to the sky and shook her head. She twisted loose from his grasp and marched over to Tristan’s horse, pushing him out of the way, and put her foot in the stirrup. She hoisted herself up and settled into the front of the saddle. She removed her foot from the stirrup and leaned forward. Mairghread looked expectantly at Tristan. He laughed and mounted behind her. He reined his horse around before anyone dared nay say him, and they rode out.

  It took the large group several hours to cover the land between the MacDonnell keep and the Mackay keep as they avoided the forest. Mairghread became sleepy and leaned back against Tristan. It was a warm day for early fall, but there was a slight nip to the air.

  “Swing yer leg over and rest against me, mo chridhe.” Tristan found he enjoyed using different terms of endearment and finding more than one way to let Mairghread know she was his heart. Mairghread adjusted her position, and he unpinned the top part of his plaid. He wrapped it around her just as he had that morning on the battlements when he asked her to stay and consider marrying him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and nestled into his shoulder.

  “This is the happiest place on earth for me.” She sighed and closed her eyes.

  “On the back of ma horse in the middle of nowhere?” He teased.

  Without opening her eyes, she responded, “In yer arms is the best place to be.”

  Tristan kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms around her. If this was the happiest place on earth for her, he was not about to deny her.

  They continued riding for a couple more hours, only stopping to rest and water the horses. Mairghread was deeply asleep and did not seem to notice when Tristan handed her to Alexander while he dismounted. Tavish took Tristan’s horse along with his own, and Tristan found a shady spot to sit with Mairghread cradled in his lap until it was time to mount up again. Tristan had never experienced such contentment as holding Mairghread in his arms. As desperately as he wanted to marry her, he almost wished the keep was further away, so he would have the opportunity to hold her a little longer. This fierce and strong woman, who was able to defend herself in many ways, seemed so tiny and vulnerable when he held her. In some ways, it was difficult to reconcile the two images, but he realized it was her trust in him that allowed herself to let go and fall so deeply asleep in his arms, to be vulnerable before him. Tristan swore to himself, in that moment, to never take her for granted and to always protect her. He had failed her miserably, and it had nearly cost them everything. He would never let that happen again. He would not make the same mistake twice.

  As they crested the hill in front of the Mackay keep, the bells began to ring when the guards spotted them. Mairghread stirred and opened her sleepy eyes. She looked up at Tristan and smiled. He was mesmerized by the sight that met his eyes. She was the most incredible mix of sensuality and innocence. He prayed she never lost all of the innocence and that this would be what he awakened to every morning. He leaned forward and kissed her. It was a lingering kiss and would have continued if Callum had not spoken up.

  “Da is coming and looks fit to be tied.”

  It was like Callum threw a bucket of cold water on both of them. Mairghread sat up so fast she banged her forehead on Tristan’s chin. She spun around to find her father galloping towards them with Alasdair not far behind. They met each other halfway and reined in. Liam Sinclair jumped from his horse and ran to Tristan’s. He pulled Mairghread from Tristan’s arms before she even reached for him. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. Mairghread noticed her father was shaking as she tried to pull her arms loose to hug him.

  “Da! Da, I canna breathe, and I canna hug ye.”

  The Sinclair loosened his hold only enough for her to wrap her arms around his waist. She still felt him shaking, and something moist dripped onto her nose. For the first time in her life, she watched tears rolling down her father’s cheeks. His shoulders shook from the sobs that racked his body.

  “Mo nighean leanabh, mo nighean leanabh.” He would not stop repeating himself as he held her. She was still his baby girl no matter that she was a woman fully grown and to be married soon.

  “Da, I am well. Nay real harm came to me. Ma brothers and Tristan saved me, and I am here.” Mairghread breathed in her father’s scent and reveled in the safety of his arms. She realized
in that moment how much she would miss this when Castle Varrich became her home. She would no longer seek shelter in her father’s arms. No matter how comfortable and safe she was with Tristan, nothing would ever replace how being held by her father felt. It was a different sensation.

  Tristan walked up behind them. He put his hand on her back and leaned in to murmur in her ear, “We will visit yer family as often as ye wish.”

  He continued walking over to Alasdair to give and get a report on what transpired while he was away.

  Liam Sinclair listened to his future son-by-marriage’s promise, and he loosened his hold. It had worried him that he had run out of time with his daughter, but Tristan’s reassurance made him breathe more easily. The Sinclair wiped his face and looked over Mairghread’s shoulders to his sons. He held out his arms to all of them. He had been a loving father their entire lives but affection in the way of embraces for his sons had ended many years ago. However, they did not hesitate to walk into his outstretched arms. The six Sinclairs hugged for a long time in relief for their safety and to mark the end of an era. By nightfall, Mairghread would be a Mackay.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  T

  hey returned to the keep and each person had a different task set before them. Mairghread headed straight to the kitchens to inform Annag that there would be a wedding that afternoon and feast that evening. She reassured Annag that everyone would enjoy anything she might prepare in time, and that she must enlist the help of every available woman as the Great Hall would be full. Once she had done that, she made her way to her chamber to air out her wedding gown. She had bathed that morning, and she shivered as she remembered what happened in and out of the tub, but dirt from the road covered her, and she smelled of horse. She would need to bathe again, so she asked Morag to have the tub and hot water sent to her.

  Tristan, meanwhile, set off to track down the priest. He found Father Peter in the sanctuary. It seemed to come as little surprise to Father Peter that Tristan wanted the ceremony that afternoon. In fact, Father Peter began preparing for the special Mass the moment the bells had peeled.

  Laird Sinclair and Callum collected the purses with Mairghread’s dowry and the deeds for her dower land. Tavish, Alexander, and Magnus volunteered to see the brewer and vintner to make sure enough barrels and casks of ale, wine, and whisky would be available. They made sure to sample each for quality control. All of them wobbled a little by the time the men made their way to the loch for baths. Tristan looked around at his soon-to-be extended family. His mother had died before he was able to remember her. His father had died when he was only a lad of five and ten. He had become laird and forced to grow up. He had already been a trained warrior and been to battle, but the weight of being laird was not something possible to prepare for until life thrusted it upon him. Alan and Beatris had been next to no help at all. Lady Beatris had done the bare minimum to keep Castle Varrich running and took little interest in household matters. While Alan turned out to be a fine and strong warrior, he was a disappointment as tánaiste and as Tristan’s second. They had assumed Alan would fill those positions once he was old enough and trained for it; however, it never came to be. Tristan was never able to rely upon him enough, and so with the approval of the council of elders, he had named his lifelong friend, Alasdair, as his tánaiste and second. Tristan had not considered himself lonely because clansmen always surrounded him, and he was never without a willing woman to keep him company, but he realized that it was all very superficial. As he watched Laird Sinclair and his four sons laugh with one another, he longed for the same sense of family and comradery.

  “Are ye going to just stand there like a stone or come in and bathe? I dinna suppose ma sister will want to bed a horse or a mon who smells like one.” Magnus called from the waterline.

  “Watch yer mouth, son. I dinna want to hear about ma wee lass doing such things.” Liam Sinclair grumbled halfheartedly. He smiled up at Tristan and waved him forward.

  Tristan moved towards the group of men and began removing his clothes. Once he had stripped down, he reached for his bar of soap. He caught the sound of the crunch of loose stones but before he glanced up, a large Sinclair man grabbed each of his arms and legs. They picked him up and carried him to the rocks and climbed up. They hoisted him high in the air and counted to three. It happened so quickly that Tristan was soaring through the air and landing with a splash before he was able to hold his breath. He emerged and pushed back his hair. There were the five Sinclair men, all naked and laughing at him. They slapped each other on the back and dove in, including Laird Sinclair who turned out to be an agile and graceful swimmer despite his age.

  “Welcome to the family, brother.” Alexander grinned at him.

  “Brother!” The other three cheered.

  “Son!” The Sinclair bellowed.

  Tristan had never felt so welcomed in all his life. He finally had a family again.

  ~~~

  Mairghread welcomed the quiet of being able to ready herself alone. She was glad there was no gaggle of women fussing over her hair and tugging on her as she dressed. The only person she missed was her mother. She still remembered her mother even if the memories had dimmed a little. She remembered her mother had always smelled of lemongrass, but it was her mother who taught her to make lavender and heather oils and soaps. That is why she preferred that scent for herself. Her mother had been warm and loving, and Mairghread had followed her mother around any time she was not trailing after her brothers. She remembered how her mother and father used to gaze at one another even after five children. She prayed she and Tristan would be the same as her parents even as the years passed. She knelt beside her bed and clasped her hands together in prayer, offering thanksgiving for her family and for Tristan. She then prayed for guidance and strength. Just as she said “amen,” a light knock came at her door.

  “Come.”

  Mairghread looked up to find her father peeking around the door. When he spied her kneeling, he came to help her up.

  “Are ye ready, mo nighean leanabh?”

  “Aye, Da.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Will I still be yer baby girl once I am married and have bairns of ma own?”

  “Of course, lass. Ye are ma only daughter and ma youngest child. Ye will never outgrow being mo nighean leanabh. Dinna tell ye brothers, but I still consider them as mo ghillean beaga.”

  “Da, nae one of them has been a wee lad in almost a score of years. From what Mama used to say, they all came out big enough to join ye at the lists.”

  Laird Sinclair’s eyes got misty, and he paused as he envisioned his wife who had long since passed. Mairghread regretted referring to her mother. She put her hand on his arm and squeezed.

  “Da?”

  “Leannan, ye remind me more and more of yer mother every day. Ye may resemble me, but yer eyes and yer spirit have her spark. She was the one great love of ma life and when she died, I feared I wouldnae be able to carry on without her. She left me with the five greatest treasures I have ever beheld. Every day, ye become more like her, and so I ken she never left me, us. I love ye, leannan.”

  Her father had called her his wee baby girl and sweetheart. Tristan often called her his darling, his heart, and his treasure. The terms of affection made her heart warm as she realized just how well loved she was. Even her brothers teasing her about being so much smaller than them made her realize they loved her and loved protecting her. Her heart felt like it was overflowing.

  “Da, I’m ready to get married, but I will never be ready to stop being yer little lass. I love ye too, Da.” She reached up and kissed his cheek again. She took his hand, and he led her to the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  T

  ristan waited outside the doors of the kirk with the four Sinclair brothers standing across from him and Alasdair beside him. The entire clan had turned out to witness the long-awaited wedding between their laird and the Sinclair lass. Tristan was becoming impatient as he craned his neck t
o peer over the crowd. He started to worry something was wrong or that Mairghread had changed her mind. Just as he turned and stepped forward to go investigate, “oohs” and “ahs” coming from the back of the crowd reached him. A murmur ran through the crowd as everyone turned to the back. Tristan tried to catch a glimpse, but there were still far too many people in front of him. He heard the brothers snicker and glared at them. Movement caught their eye and as a one, the four giant brothers stilled. Their eyes all widened, and they nudged one another. Tristan spun around and caught his first glimpse of Mairghread. The crowd had parted to let her and her father through. He understood now the reaction her brothers had when they spotted her. She was radiant in a blue shimmering kirtle. She had braided the sides of her hair and joined it at the back. The rest of her hair was down just as he liked it. His feet would not remain where they were. He walked down the steps and into the crowd to meet Mairghread in the middle. He barely spared a glance to Laird Sinclair. He held out his arm for Mairghread, and she grasped it. Tristan and the Sinclair accompanied her to the foot of the steps outside the kirk. Liam Sinclair placed a soft kiss on her cheek. It would be the last one he gave her before she became another man’s wife. He looked up at Tristan, who only had eyes for Mairghread, and he knew in his heart that he had made the right decision in giving his blessing. He was no fool and was aware they would have run off to marry if he had not given it. He was glad to be a witness to this occasion.

  Mairghread stared at Tristan. She noticed he had bathed because his hair was still damp. He wore a crisp, saffron leine denoting his position as laird. His breacan feile was freshly brushed, and his laird’s broach shone. She had never seen a more handsome man.

 

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