A Saint at the Highland Court: A Friends to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 6)

by Celeste Barclay

  Hardi ground his teeth at Artair’s patronizing words and tone. He would make his thoughts clear once and for all about Blair’s position in his life. “Faolán and Drostan may be ma family, but I choose Lady Blair to be ma wife. The Lord expects a mon to leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife. The Lord never said I needed to cleave to ma father’s cousins. Lady Blair’s place is at ma side as we lead the Camerons together. One day ma son shall sit to the other side of me. That doesnae leave room for anyone else.”

  Artair remained quiet, nodding his head as though he’d agreed with Hardi all along. Robena signaled the servants to bring out the midday meal. Blair and Robena picked up their conversation. Hardi turned to his senior guardsman while Artair spoke to an older clan member. Both leaders studiously ignored one another.

  Twenty-Three

  Hardi stood outside Blair’s chamber door in just his plaid and leine, both Sutherland guards glaring at him. He knew the men didn’t approve of the two times he and Blair slipped away into the woods, and he was certain they’d deduced what went on beneath the blanket, but they said nothing. Their reproachful gazes spoke loudly enough.

  “Blair, it’s me,” Hardi whispered as he tapped on her door. He heard movement before the door opened a crack. Blair glanced over Hardi’s shoulder at her guards. She offered a sympathetic smile that ended with a look of warning. It amazed Hardi how Blair’s expressions could convey so much more than words. He slipped into her chamber, and she reached past him to lock the door. Hardi cupped Blair’s face as their mouths fused together. It was the first proper kiss they’d shared in days. Unable to do more than drop a peck on the cheek while they traveled, they hungered for the taste of one another. “Where’s yer maid?”

  “She retired for the evening. I wasna in the mood for her nattering. I’ll listen to the servants’ gossip tomorrow. I wasna sure if ye would come, but either way, I couldnae manage her buzzing aboot,” Blair waved her hand in the air.

  “I thought yer men might bar me from yer door, but they just gave me dirty looks,” Hardi grinned.

  “They’ve kenned me since I was a wee lass. They are rather protective,” Blair explained.

  “Blair, they both used to knock me on ma arse when I still hadnae learned to swing a sword. They arenae keen on seeing wee Hardwin lusting after their laird’s daughter,” Hardi chuckled.

  “I dinna think they are so fond of watching their laird’s wee daughter lusting after the braw Laird Cameron,” Blair corrected. Blair went onto her toes as she wrapped her arms around Hardi’s neck, her brown eyes locked with his hazel. “Will ye kiss me again?”

  Rather than answer with words, Hardi grasped Blair’s backside and lifted her off the ground. Her legs came around his waist as they clung to one another. Hardi walked to the foot of the bed before taking a seat. His hands inched along her thighs until her chemise hid their ascent. He grazed his hands over her hips and bottom before caressing her ribs then cupping her breasts. It was the first time Hardi could touch the full length of Blair’s body without clothes hampering his exploration. He kissed her neck as her head fell back. Blair’s hands roamed over Hardi’s back and chest, but frustration led her to tug on his leine. She gazed into Hardi’s eyes as she unpinned the length of plaid from his shoulder. She handed him the brooch he dropped into his sporran that now rested against his back. She pulled his leine free of his belt and lifted it over his head.

  Blair was mesmerized. She’d seen plenty of men train in the lists without their shirts on in summer, but she’d never been close enough to touch, to notice, the tiny white scars that marred his shoulders and chest. She leaned forward to look down his back. Her fingertips traced over them as her breasts pressed against Hardi’s chest. He tugged the ribbon of her chemise until one side came loose. Blair sat back, allowing the fabric to fall from her shoulder, one breast exposed. Hardi groaned as his hand massaged the flesh, enjoying the weight in his hand. He lowered his head as he brought her breast to his mouth. He suckled like a bairn, but just as he promised, Blair was aware he was all man. His other hand gripped her bottom in a punishing hold, Blair’s moans encouraging him each time his hand tightened. He widened the space between his thighs, keeping Blair suspended. His hand traveled down the crease that separated the cheeks of her buttocks until his fingers dipped within her sheath.

  “Do ye ken why ye get so wet?” Hardi asked between kisses.

  “So ma body can take yers into me one day.” Blair nipped at Hardi’s earlobe. “And because ma body wants to do just that.” She rocked her hips against his cock that stood at attention beneath his plaid. The feel of his fingers within her along with the friction against her pubis made Blair lightheaded. She clung to Hardi as she opened her mouth to his questing tongue. Hardi pulled the ribbon loose over her other shoulder, leaving both of her breasts bare. Hardi rolled her nipple until it puckered before grazing his teeth over it. Blair’s hips thrust forward in response to the stimulus. She ground herself against him until she moaned with her release.

  Once again looking into one another’s eyes, something passed between them that neither could name. Hunger consumed them as Blair panted. She pulled her chemise over her head, leaving nothing hidden. Hardi gorged his eyes on the trim figure and soft belly. It had pleased him to discover Blair wasn’t as slim as she appeared. The first time he ran his hand over her satiny skin that covered her belly, he’d nearly spilled himself. He would have desired Blair no matter what she looked like, but he preferred that she wasn’t bony. Blair noticed what held Hardi’s attention, and her hands covered his. A different longing passed between them.

  “I’ve never thought aboot having a family, having ma own bairns, like I have since seeing ye again,” Hardi confessed.

  “The idea of joining ma body with a mon never appealed until ye came back into ma life. I hope one day that we can build a family together,” Blair confessed.

  “Aye. One day. Blair, I ken ye realize we canna make love yet. But ken that it’s honor that keeps me from ye. It has naught to do with nae desiring ye,” Hardi explained.

  “I understand.” Blair frowned for a moment as her hands rested on his shoulders. “I want to make love to ye, and I want to bear yer bairns, but I also dinna want to be in the position that Lady MacMillan was. I dinna think ye’ll die before we wed, but neither of us can ken for sure. Nae with how things stand for yer clan. I would cherish having a bairn as a way to remember ye, to have a piece of ye with me, but I dinna ever want that bairn forced to deny ye’re his or her da.”

  “I wouldnae put ye in the position either, mo ghaol.” Hardi kissed her tenderly.

  “But I ken that I dinna want to attend a feast after our wedding. I want to leave the kirk and go to our chamber,” Blair grinned.

  “And dinna fear a bedding ceremony. Nay one will watch us as we make love for the first time.”

  Blair laughed. “Ma da wouldnae allow it anyway. I’d be a widow if ye tried to insist.”

  “That does sound aboot right,” Hardi grinned. They sat together in silence for a long moment before their mouths sought one another again. The kiss combusted as need swept over them in yet another crashing wave. Blair raised up onto her knees, bringing her breasts to Hardi’s face. Her mons brushed his chest as he grasped her bottom. The object of his desire was close yet still too far away. He stood and turned them before lowering her to the mattress.

  Blair propped herself on her elbows as Hardi kneeled on the floor at the end of the bed. There was no preamble as he slid his hand beneath her bottom and lifted her sheath to his mouth. He was ravenous for the first taste, and his tongue thrust into her entrance. His masculine groan made Blair quiver. He lapped at her folds as his fingers bit into her waist and hips. His teeth skimmed her nub before tugging, then sucking. Blair fisted the sheets and struggled not to scream. The sensations were more intense than she ever guessed.

  Hardi thrust two fingers into Blair’s entrance, feeling the silky walls tightening around his digits. Blair watc
hed him as he worked her core. He couldn’t take his eyes off her flushed cheeks, her mussed hair, and passion-filled eyes. He reached beneath his plaid, grasping his cock as he stroked. He nearly toppled backwards when Blair jerked upright.

  “That’s mine. Dinna do that,” Blair snarled as she pointed to where she could make out Hardi’s hand wrapped around his rod. No longer interested in the sensations Hardi introduced to her to with his tongue, she refused to be cheated out of an opportunity to bring him to release after he’d already made her climax once. She scooted off the end of the bed before sinking onto his lap. Her tone softened, she whispered. “I—I want to see.”

  Hardi swallowed and nodded, knowing he treaded in dangerous waters. Blair’s look of rapture was nearly too much temptation, but when her hand wrapped around him as she watched, he struggled to catch his breath. He wanted the pleasure to last, but he was racing toward the finish far too fast. When Blair settled on his thighs, he felt her dew against his skin. His hands went around her waist as he prepared to lift her onto his shaft. It was only at the last moment that he realized what he was about to do.

  “Ye’re too close, Blair. I want ye too much,” Hardi croaked.

  “I ken, but God how I ache to feel ye. Hardi, I—” Blair broke off unable to describe how badly she craved joining them as one.

  “Stroke me. I’m almost there.” As though his words signaled his body, his cock pulsed as his seed spilled over Blair’s hand. He had a moment of panic that she would be disgusted. He’d always wiped her hand clean before she pulled it out from under his plaid. She raised her hand to her mouth, the tip of her tongue tentative before sweeping the flattened breadth over the viscous liquid that coated it. Hardi surged upward, Blair’s waist in his hands. He tossed her onto the bed before prowling toward her. Rather than bring his body over hers, he returned his attention to her entrance and the feast he hadn’t finished. It was only moments later that Blair turned her head into the pillow to smother her scream.

  Hardi eased beside Blair, scooping her into his arms as they both panted. Hardi’s hand caressed her shoulder, arm, and back until he reached her bottom. His gentle touch running up and down her body calmed Blair as she caught her breath. Their gentle kisses were affectionate as Blair’s hand rested over his heart.

  “Mo chridhe,” Blair whispered as she felt the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath her hand.

  “I love ye.” They spoke at the same time.

  “Can ye stay?” Blair asked timidly.

  “Aye. Two of ma men will relieve yers in a couple of hours. They ken to knock if I dinna appear before the servants begin stirring. I want to sleep with ye in ma arms, Blair.”

  “I want that, too.”

  “I will send Bran with a message to ye as soon as I ken when I can meet ye. He will be our go-between, and he already kens.” Hardi lifted up onto his elbow. “Blair, until I’m sure of what’s really happening, dinna trust anyone but yer guards and Bran. Unless ye receive a missive in ma handwriting—ye’ll ken it’s mine from the horrible writing—dinna believe anyone but Bran is bringing ye the truth.”

  “That makes me feel a little better. I wish we didna have to be apart, but just remember, I will come as soon ye ask.”

  “Ma hope is that within a sennight, I can arrange things so I can meet ye either in the morn or afternoon without too many people taking note,” Hardi explained, but Blair shook her head.

  “If ye can leave the keep every day to see me, then ye should consider using that time to tour yer land. See me if ye need me, but dinna take time away from yer duties for me.”

  “Ye’re a better woman than I deserve,” Hardi pulled Blair closer. “I wish I never had to put aught before ye, but I canna thank ye enough for understanding. Nae only understanding but supporting me.”

  “Hardi, I plan for us to have a vera long life together. One where we are together until all yer hair and teeth fall out,” Blair giggled as Hardi tickled her. “This is but a wee moment in time. I will do all I can to help ye, but ye must put yer clan first. That’s another lesson Mama and Da taught me. I saw how it pained them to do so at times, but they are a better couple and better leaders for it.”

  “I will do ma best to never take ye for granted, fear glic.”

  “I still dinna think I’m a wise one, but I am devoted to ye and that means yer clan. I hope soon they will be ma clan too.” Blair traced the scars on Hardi’s chest until they both grew too tired to keep their eyes open.

  Twenty-Four

  The cords in Blair’s neck strained as she struggled to keep from crying as Hardi rode away from Inverlochy. They’d slept in one another’s arms, waking twice to share intimacies that were over far too fast now that Blair was unsure of when she would next see Hardi. They’d said their goodbyes in private before he slipped from her chamber as the first servants began to move about the lower level of the keep. Blair waved one last time as Hardi turned back to look at her for a fourth time. His stoic appearance belied his conflicted emotions, and Blair didn’t envy him his position.

  “Ma lady,” Donald whispered. “Laird Cameron will return before ye ken it. I’ve kenned the mon since he arrived when he was ten summers. We all believed ye two would marry if ye’d just been the same age. It doesnae surprise either of us,” the guard jutted his chin at his partner, “that ye wish to marry now. He’ll be back soon enough.”

  “Thank ye,” Blair whispered. She inhaled a deep breath, trying to cleanse the sadness from her heart. She gathered her courage and entered the keep. She’d avoided conversing with Artair at the evening meal, leaving Hardi and the chieftain to discuss the MacDonalds ongoing use of Inverlochy. Blair heard Artair bring up the Laird Donald’s daughter and the alliance the laird offered the Camerons, but Hardi was swift and decisive in his refusal to consider it. Blair also heard the warning that Artair was to respect Blair’s position as his betrothed. As she made her way to the dais to break her fast, she noticed Robena rubbing her swollen belly.

  Blair learned the night before that while Robena carried the chieftain’s babe, their relationship was generally more paternal. Blair wondered if that was why the man was so incredibly patronizing. She tried to convince herself that it was age, rather than gender, that made him condescending.

  “Good morn, Lady Robena,” Blair greeted as she took the seat beside Robena. “Is there aught I can help you with today?” Blair hoped that by offering her help, it would make her indefinite residence less burdensome.

  “Do you not have books to pour over or poems to read?” Artair laughed as he lumbered up the stairs. It was clear the man suffered from gout. Blair understood the healing arts that a chatelaine was expected to possess, but she’d never taken an interest like Maude or Cairren. At that moment, she’d never been more grateful for lacking empathy as she hoped his inflammation pained him.

  “I didn’t plan to while away my days in leisure whilst being here, so I’m afraid I brought no books with me,” Blair explained before turning back to Robena. “What can I do to help?”

  “Lady Robena is quite capable of tending to this keep without your assistance,” Artair spoke once again before Robena could answer.

  Blair cast the man a withering glare. “I don’t doubt that. The food was excellent at both meals I’ve partaken, and my chamber is spotless and comfortable. That doesn’t mean I can’t offer assistance to a woman clearly approaching her confinement. It’s the least I can do.”

  “I wouldn’t mind company while I work in the orchard,” Robena hurried to speak.

  “Work in the orchard?” Blair looked at Robena, fearing the answer to her next question. “Are you still climbing ladders to pick the fruit?”

  “Depends on whether there are others who can be spared to help,” Robena explained quietly.

  “Spared to help? Harvesting the fruit is one of the most important late spring tasks. And you shouldn’t be balancing on a ladder.” It horrified Blair to know that Robena was risking injury to herself and her babe because
not enough people were helping. Blair clenched her jaw to keep from snapping at Artair, who muttered something about meddlesome women coddling the weak. When the meal ended, Blair walked to the table where the Sutherland and king’s guards sat. She glanced back at Robena who shifted, trying to find a comfortable position in which to sit.

  “I don’t like asking this, but I will,” Blair kept her Scots accent in place while speaking to the king’s guard. Her experience at court taught her that while many of the king’s warriors were Highlanders, only a Scots accent made them move with a sense of haste. “I need you all to come with me to the orchard this morning. Lady Robena has little help to harvest the fruit, and her husband sees no problem with his expectant wife climbing ladders.”

  Twelve faces looked as one toward the dais. Scowls and looks of disgust made Blair breathe easier, knowing the men wouldn’t grumble about the work. She agreed to meet the men in the orchard, hoping that it would be less obvious that she’d recruited the helpers that Artair believed were unnecessary. She carried the stack of baskets as she and Robena made their way into the copse of fruit trees.

  “What are they doing here?” Robena gasped as she noticed the group of men leaning against the wall that separated the orchard from the bailey.

  “They will be working.” Blair signaled the men to gather the baskets, and they set to work without instruction. Blair carried a basket while Robena picked fruit within easy reach.

  “Artair won’t be happy when he learns of this, Lady Blair,” Robena warned.

  “It’s Blair, and I don’t give a fig whether he’s happy or not if you’re safe.”

  “Thank you,” Robena whispered. “He’s not a bad mon or a bad husband. He’s just insensitive. He doesn’t realize what he says can be hurtful or insulting. It’s not done with malice.”