Highlands Forever (Books 1–3)

by Rand, Violetta

Alex eyed the linen. “Do ye blame the lass?”

  Mathe sputtered a bit, but collected himself enough to continue. “It is a matter of tradition. And under the circumstances, it is more important than ever that no one is given a chance to question the legitimacy of yer union.”

  Alex pursed his lips. He’d be the judge of his wife’s chastity, not the council and surely not his tenants. “As I’ve explained to ye before, Captain Mathe, I am capable of vouching for my wife’s purity.”

  “Please,” Mathe pleaded. “Doona take it down.”

  Alex rubbed his dry, burning eyes. The wind had kicked up enough dust to blind a man. “Are ye the one who needs convincing, Mathe?”

  “Are ye questioning my support, Laird Alex? Am I not the one who demanded ye stay? Marry? Accept responsibility for the clan?”

  Aye—the man was right. “Where is Lady Keely?”

  “Abovestairs.”

  “I will speak with her. The linen stays. Now, can I eat and drink, perhaps spend another night with my bride without worrying about domestic issues?”

  “I will have a maid bring yer supper up.”

  Alex chuckled. “Perhaps my brother chose the wrong head of household.”

  Mathe dinna take his observation as a compliment. “I believe one of the younger retainers would be better suited for the duty.”

  “Aye. Select the man and return to training in the morn. There is much to be done, Mathe.”

  The captain bowed and departed for the kitchens.

  Alex dragged himself abovestairs, immediately dismissing the guards standing at his bedchamber door. “I doona need ye tonight.”

  He stepped inside, finding his wife curled up on one of the chairs in front of the hearth. She dinna acknowledge his presence, but Alex knew she wasna asleep. “Did ye enjoy yer first day as mistress of this keep?”

  Her agitated sigh gave him the answer he sought.

  “It will take time.”

  “It will take a miracle,” she shot back, sitting up. “Why did ye provide that bloody linen for Mathe?”

  “To keep peace.”

  “Yer efforts are wasted on that man.”

  Alex swallowed his temper as he sat on the end of the bed and started to unlace his boots. Patience was in short supply today. “Captain Mathe is a loyal servant and skilled warrior. My grandfather appointed him as his own squire and my sire made him a captain. And he dinna like what happened between ye and John. Ye must give everyone time to adjust to the idea of ye being here, Keely.” He dropped his second boot on the floor.

  “I dinna want to stay.”

  Alex growled. “Choose yer words more wisely.”

  “Perhaps ye should follow yer own advice, Husband.”

  “And what do ye mean by that?”

  He stood.

  “Ye should have used better judgment in choosing a wife.”

  Alex rubbed his chin. The she-devil had a sharp tongue that he might never be able to change. “I chose well.”

  “Did ye?” She hugged her center, not looking like she believed him. “I like Petro.”

  The change in subject eased the tension between his shoulder blades. “Aye?”

  “Aye,” she confirmed. “He has a talent for showing up when trouble is building.”

  Alex smiled. “That he does.”

  “Mathe and I were having words and he immediately offered his assistance.”

  “And what kind of solution did he propose?”

  “A walk.”

  “And where did ye take him?”

  “To the loch for a swim.”

  “What?”

  “Aye. With Leah and our guard.”

  The picture in his mind made him feel uneasy—the idea of his wife stripping down in front of another man. Even on the hottest of days, the water was cold, and Alex knew her nipples would poke right through the thin material of her shift. The most honorable of men would have a difficult time not sneaking a peek at her lush breasts. But he kept his jealousy to himself. “I dinna know Petro could swim.”

  “If ye consider sinking like a stone swimming.”

  “But he dinna drown?”

  “Nay. I am sure he is sleeping like a babe.”

  Alex chuckled. “He dinna give up easily?”

  “I doona believe the man knows the meaning. I spent hours teaching him how to float, kick his feet, and move his arms.”

  “Did ye succeed?”

  “Aye.”

  “Then I am happy for ye, Keely. Yer day was more productive than my own.”

  Concern etched her face as she came to him. “What is it, Alex?”

  “The west villages are very vulnerable to Sutherland attacks.”

  “Isna everyone vulnerable?”

  “Aye. The earl grows more powerful by the year. His alliances in England are strong.”

  “What will ye do?”

  Alex sat back down and closed his eyes, too weary to hide his emotions. “I would kill John de Moravia and put an end to this conflict forever.”

  Keely knelt in front of him, resting her hand on his knee. “With three sons…”

  “Aye. The torch of war would simply be passed to the next earl.”

  “Have ye considered an alliance through marriage?”

  “It would be hard to accept for yer father, the Gunns, Sinclairs, and MacLeods. And I have no heir.” He gazed at his wife. “If we are blessed with a son, would Helen Sutherland be willing to wait so many years to take a husband, one young enough to be her own son?”

  “There is Jamie, and the earl has six nieces, three without husbands.”

  “Nay.” Alex couldna do it. “I willna condemn my cousin to such a marriage.”

  “But the earl’s nieces are lovely.”

  “They are Sutherlands.” He caressed her cheek. “Yer council is valuable, Keely.”

  “Thank ye,” she said sweetly.

  The time for discussing clan affairs with his wife was over. Alex wanted to focus on other things. “How are ye feeling?” He’d been less than gentle with her last eve—years of desire slowly sated by every deep thrust into her body. As he stared into her eyes, that desire began to brim over again. It would take three lifetimes to satisfy his hunger where Keely MacKay was concerned. Damn his soul for it. Damn her for being so irresistible.

  “I am well, milord.”

  “Nay soreness?”

  “Only a little.”

  “Tis expected.”

  “Leah had me soak in a hot bath with soothing herbs.”

  “If ye need to rest…”

  “I doona,” she cut him off.

  “Then ye enjoyed our lovemaking?”

  “Aye.”

  “Ye are magnificent, Keely.” He pulled her to her feet.

  More than willing to be touched, Alex cupped her breasts through her gown. They were bountiful enough to spill over the sides of his hands, but not overly large. He couldna rest without tasting her again. Working the laces on her bodice quickly, he released her tender flesh and suckled a nipple while he slipped his hand beneath her skirts, finding her wetness. The faster he stroked, the louder she moaned. The little noises pleased him, made his cock ache for relief.

  His arms and legs wrapped around her, bringing her down on top of him on the mattress. Their foreheads touched and he kissed her, exploring the depths of her sweet mouth. Keely managed to hike her skirts above her waist, exposing herself completely. Alex reached for her arse, guiding her upward, her mound mere inches from his mouth. Christ, he wished he could control himself better, but a man shouldna deprive himself of what he needed. And for Alex, his young wife was as necessary as the air he breathed.

  “What are ye doing, Alex?” She eyed him warily.

  “Doona be nervous.”

  “There is nowhere left for me to comfortably sit. So why are ye pulling me up to your…”

  His tongue provided the answer. Her luscious backside filled his palms as he silently instructed her on how to move across his face. Finding he
r center, he sucked mercilessly as she lost control—throwing her head back and riding him wildly.

  “Aye, Keely,” he breathed. “This is what I’ve longed for, to make ye mine over and over again.”

  Moments later… “A-Alex.” Her body trembled from the intensity of the release.

  Proud of what little effort it took to satisfy her, Alex rearranged his wife in the middle of the bed. She spread her legs and held onto his biceps. “More,” she said.

  “More of what, ye wanton?”

  “Ye.”

  He sheathed himself deep inside her, and they moved together, their union more familiar, more relaxed. Alex flicked his tongue over her nipples, then claimed her mouth until the need to fill her with his seed overwhelmed him. He arched his back, and Keely locked her hands behind his neck, writhing underneath him.

  No words could describe how she made him feel or what she stole from him every time he came. It wasna as easy as he thought to safeguard his heart from her. Nay. Keely had a wicked way about her, intentional or not. And if he dinna be careful, she’d own more than his body.

  Exhausted, he rolled onto his back, playing with a strand of her dark hair. “Do ye wish to finish our conversation from earlier?”

  “Which part?”

  “The sheet.”

  “Ye’re determined to placate Mathe. My feelings are secondary, Alex. I may not agree with it, but I understand.”

  “Do ye, or are ye just saying that to keep the peace between us?” He looked at her.

  “Peace is in short supply here. Anything I can do to help, I will.”

  Once again, her words pleased him. His original plan had been to give her a taste of the pain she’d caused him. He raised his right arm, resting the back of his hand against his forehead. Whatever was happening to him, the need to hurt her was fading. She was right, peace was in short supply. The less strife at home the better. It would allow him to focus on the improvements needed to defend his people and lands.

  Someone knocked on the door, and Alex growled. He’d forgotten about the tray Mathe had promised to send up. Not ashamed of his nakedness, he crawled out of bed and strutted to the door. He opened it and took the tray from the maid.

  “Are ye hungry?” he asked, walking to the table, his stomach rumbling from the smell of fresh meat and bread.

  Keely sat up. “Is there enough for both of us?”

  Alex lifted the linen covering the food. “Aye.”

  She joined him at the table, fidgeting with her bodice.

  “Nay.” He reached for her hand. “Nothing would please me more than filling my belly and having the pleasure of gazing upon your breasts at the same time.”

  She smiled and sat on the chair across from him. “As ye wish, milord.”

  He served her some meat and bread, then poured them each a cup of wine. As he ate his fill, Alex wondered if in time he could learn to trust, maybe even love Keely again.

  Chapter Seventeen

  A week later, Mathe and several other guards rushed inside the great hall where Alex and Keely had just sat down at the high table. “What is all the commotion about?” Alex asked.

  “Milord,” Mathe bowed. “Laird Oliphant is here.”

  “My father?” Keely shot up from her chair.

  “Nay.” Alex prevented her escape. “Sit down, Keely. Please.”

  “But. Alex… I havena seen my sire for years. Do ye not approve of a reunion?”

  “Alexander MacKay!”

  Alex couldna ever forget that booming voice. Obviously, the laird had forced his way through the bailey, for Alex hadn’t invited anyone inside.

  “What will ye have me do?” Mathe asked.

  “Who is with Laird Oliphant?”

  “Thirty soldiers and four of his sons.”

  “God’s bones,” Alex cursed.

  He dinna have a chance to say anything else, for Laird Oliphant stormed the great hall with his progeny in tow.

  Though Keely obeyed him and stayed on the dais, she stood immediately. “Father?”

  “Keely?” Laird Oliphant strode across the room. “Alexander, what is this I hear? Ye wed my only daughter without my blessing?”

  “I welcome ye, Laird Oliphant, or should I call ye Father now?” Alex walked around the table, his fingers resting loosely on the hilt of his sword.

  Matthew Oliphant was an imposing man. His snow-white beard and hair dinna mean a bloody thing. He was as strong as a bull, a fearless fighter, and rightfully angry. Alex hoped their first meeting wouldna end with violence.

  “That depends on what my daughter has to say. Keely, why are ye standing there, lass? Come down here at once!”

  She eyed her sire, visibly shaken, then looked to Alex. If he forbade her from going to her da, it would hurt her in a way he couldna fix. It dinna matter, she rushed off the dais and into her sire’s arms. Laird Oliphant embraced her, then held her at arm’s length, studying her face.

  “Lass,” he said gently. “Ye broke my heart.”

  “I am sorry, Father.”

  “Where have ye been?”

  “That is a matter better discussed in my solar,” Alex interjected.

  Not letting go of his daughter, Laird Oliphant threw Alex a dark look. “Truth is better told in the open. And if the rumors that reached my ears are true, I will have yer head, MacKay, and a good measure of yer blood, too.”

  “Nay.” Keely took her father’s hand. “And Broc and Gavin,” she addressed two of her brothers, who were eager to pull their weapons. “Stand down, please.”

  Mathe and several of the MacKay guards surged forward, forming a semicircle around Keely’s family.

  “Violence willna change anything. I am legally wed to Laird Alex. The proof is hanging over the hearth.” She gestured at the very thing she despised, the blood-stained sheet.

  “That means nothing,” her sire growled, the evidence of their wedding night only deepening his resentment. “It redeems ye, but not him.” He pointed at Alex. “She took vows with yer brother, John.”

  Alex ignored the insult. Arguing with a man blinded by rage would accomplish nothing but getting one of them killed. There’d been enough bloodshed lately. And Alex owed his father-in-law a generous measure of tolerance. If Keely were his daughter, he would demand justice, too. “If ye will come with me, Laird Oliphant, my secretary will show ye the legal documents that will prove her union with John was invalid. I mean no disrespect to ye or yer sons.”

  “Keely.” Her father gave her a gentle shake. “Tell me where ye’ve been all this time? The missives I received revealed little and were delivered by men unwilling to say a word. Did ye flee this place and go to the convent? What was the purpose of all the secrecy? Did John hurt ye?”

  “No, Father. I will answer yer questions, but not here.”

  Laird Oliphant nodded, letting her go. “Laird John died not a sennight ago and ye’re already remarried?”

  “Matthew,” Alex gritted out. “There are things ye doona understand.” If the man only knew how close Alex was to losing his temper. “Will ye join us in my solar?”

  “Broc will come, too.” Laird Oliphant waved at his eldest son. “The rest of ye, stay here.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Alex led the way. Keely shared a worried look with him as he opened the door and invited her father to cross the threshold first. Thankfully, the chamber had high ceilings and plenty of room, for Alex needed some space. Petro rose from his chair behind the desk and bowed as Alex walked in and closed the door.

  “This is my interpreter and secretary, Petro de’ Medici.”

  Laird Oliphant bent his head in recognition. “Get on with it, Alexander.”

  Keely and her brother sat down in the chairs along the back wall while her father and Alex claimed the padded seats at the desk.

  “Laird Oliphant, Keely’s sire, wishes to know why I married his daughter,” Alex told Petro.

  Petro immediately shuffled through the ledgers and papers on the desk. “If you
will take the time to read these letters, I am sure you will find the information you seek.”

  “Missives? From who?”

  “From my father and brother,” Alex clarified. “And one from Father Michael.”

  “I’m not interested in the words of dead men,” Matthew spat. “Speak plainly, Alex. There are no soldiers to keep us from shedding each other’s blood in here.”

  “Nay, there are not,” he agreed. “Are ye prepared for the truth, sir?”

  “I am prepared to listen.”

  Alex stood and started to pace. He’d prefer to speak one-on-one with his father-in-law. But as he scanned the faces of his wife, Broc, and Petro, he agreed they all deserved to witness the conversation. The future hung in the balance. “Before ye commanded yer daughter to marry John, we were handfasted.”

  Laird Oliphant stretched his long legs out and dinna speak.

  “Something my father claimed ye were aware of.”

  “If I may, Alex,” Petro said. “Consent was given in the form of sacred vows spoken between your daughter and Alex. According to canon law and the law in Scotland, consent supersedes any betrothal or marriage made thereafter.”

  “Holy Christ!” Laird Oliphant fisted his hands. “This wasna supposed to happen.”

  “Father,” Keely said. “I did as ye asked and married John.”

  Her father twisted round in his chair, staring at her. “Yer virgin blood is on that sheet, Keely. How could ye have married Laird John?”

  “We dinna consummate the marriage.”

  “And why not, girl?”

  Keely averted her gaze.

  “She ran away,” Alex answered for her.

  “Why?” her father pressed.

  Broc took her by the hand. “Be brave, lass. Tell our sire whatever he wishes to know.”

  “I-It’s not that easy, Broc.” She palmed tears from her eyes.

  “Why the hell not?” her father blasted.

  Keely’s lips quivered, and Alex wished he could help her, save her from this inquisition. But truth be told, she needed to learn to stand up to her sire the same way she challenged him and his captains. The lass had it inside her, she just needed to find the courage.

  “I dinna love John.”

  “Love?” her sire scoffed. “If love had anything to do with marriage, the Highlands would be long gone.”