Highlander's Hellion Bride: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Highlander's Deceptive Lovers Book 3)

by Adamina Young

  “Like this?” she whispered.

  “Ack, lass, do ye have any idea what ye are doing? What this will mean?”

  “Aye.” She knew exactly what it meant. That he would be her first lover, and she would be as free as a widow, with nothing to burden her any longer.

  “And ye are all right with this?” As his hands settled on her waist, his gaze searched hers. “This will change everything, Grace.”

  “I have made up my mind.” Leaning down, she pressed a soft and innocent kiss to his lips. “I want yer touch. Yer body. Yer mouth.”

  Suddenly, before she could even process what was happening, he flipped them over so that she was sprawled out beneath him, his weight bearing down deliciously on top of her. “My tongue?” He growled. “My fingers?”

  “Everything,” she whimpered. She was on fire.

  “Aye, will ye give me everything?”

  Hot and desperate, she sucked in her breath and nodded. “Everything.”

  There was nothing left to say as he bowed his head and took her mouth. His whole weight came down on her, and she didn’t hesitate to wrap her limbs around him. Never before has she thought she’d ever need a man, but tonight, she needed this man.

  His hardness remained between her thighs. The hem of her shift had fallen to her waist, and his trousers were rough against her skin, but she couldn’t stop moving against him, seeking more. As his tongue thrust into her mouth, he growled and slid down her body, his mouth moving down the column of her neck, his tongue tantalizing on her skin.

  “Ye are a witch,” he hissed. “There is no other explanation for how I respond to ye. God help me, Grace, want of ye drives me mad.”

  She knew just how he felt. When his mouth settled over her breast, tonguing her nipple roughly beneath the fabric, all she could do was arch into him and whimper for more. “Hamish!” It was astounding how quickly her body responded to him, how skillful he was at bringing her pleasure.

  “Ah, Grace,” he murmured as he slid even further down her body. Holding her breath, her eyes widened as he stared down right at her sex. Embarrassed, she tried to close her legs, but he shook his head and touched her. “Ye have no idea the kind of power ye hold over me.”

  Hold over him? She was going to die if he didn’t help her. “Please!” she gasped.

  “Ye want to feel as ye did last night?” he teased as he slowly moved his finger up and down her. “Aye?”

  A blush covered her from head to toe. “Aye.”

  “My pleasure.” Rather than increasing the pressure of his finger, he leaned down with a wicked grin, and when he settled his mouth over her, she knew just what he meant by using his tongue.

  The climax hit her hard as he flicked his tongue over her, and she nearly levitated off the bed as waves of pressure rocketed through her, but he held her down, torturously pleasuring her until she was gasping and aching and begging for more.

  She didn’t even hear him remove his trousers in the dark or noticed that he was naked when he slid back up her body. As he nudged his hardness at her opening he pulled her shift above her head until she was as naked as he was.

  “Are ye certain?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes dark with need.

  She nodded. She’d never been so certain of anything in her life. With a growl, he moved into her, slowly at first, pausing as she winced in pain, but when she adjusted, he slid even further, filling her.

  “More,” she begged. “Ah, Hamish, more!”

  “Slowly, my sweet.” He kissed her. “I doonae wish to hurt ye.”

  “Ye willnae. Please!”

  Moving under him, she wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to seek the pleasure that seemed to hover just out of reach. The more she moved, the more she groaned, and then, he hissed and sank into her. For a second, they both froze at the sensation.

  At the most perfect fit.

  “Grace,” he whispered. “Oh, Grace.”

  And then he moved, and by the time he was done with her, she feared that she would never find another who could love her as perfectly as this.

  20

  The woman in his bed, a beautiful sight as the early dawn light crept over her sleeping form, stirred but otherwise did not awaken as Hamish got up. He didn’t want to wake her for this was probably the first time she’d slept soundly since she’d been attacked.

  With the morning came a certainty for Hamish that everything was different now. Grace had consented to be his, so now it was simply a matter of formality. A quick wedding was in order, and while he was certain the priest would be available to him, he wasn’t certain about what Grace would want.

  Most women made a fuss about their wedding day, didn’t they? Needing a nice gown and flowers and a feast.

  His clan would not say no to a feast, but he had no idea how long it would take to prepare. If he had his way, he’d haul the priest in now, wake Grace up, and be married before noon. Grace could go back to sleep, rest easy knowing that his name would protect her, and the deal would be done.

  Maybe that would also suit her just fine. After all, she didn’t seem to be a lass who would want all the frills. If he promised her a new sword as her wedding present, with a dulled edge of course, then she would probably agree to marry him in her shift.

  That elevated his mood just slightly, but he wouldn’t bother her with it now. No, she would need sleep.

  Humming to himself, he dressed and left the chambers. Tavin was already outside Grace’s chambers, and he didn’t bother telling the man that she was in his room.

  “Is she to investigate again today?” he asked. The man was looking a little haggard in the face.

  “No doubt,” Hamish said with a smile. Clearly Tavin was finding the assignment more difficult than he anticipated.

  “Ye should know that she is becoming fast friends with Lorna.”

  There was a note of disapproval in his voice, and Hamish frowned. He knew that much of the clan didn’t like Lorna for her choice of husbands. When she’d married from an enemy clan, her own blood, with the exception of her grandmother, turned against her. It didn’t matter that the man had brought valuable information. He was the enemy.

  “We are no longer at war with the MacClares,” he reminded Tavin. “And her husband proved to be no traitor to us.”

  “Still, she turned her back on her own people, and he turned his back on his. Ye want the clan to like Grace, but if she befriends Lorna, she might find a hard time fitting in.”

  “I was not born a Hamilton, and yet ye all have accepted me as yer leader. I would hope that means such notions are dying down,” Hamish said sharply. “Lorna is one of us, and Grace will befriend whom she wants.”

  As long as it wasn’t Theo.

  Tavin pursed his lips, but he didn’t say anything. It was clear that the man didn’t agree, but there was nothing else to say.

  Downstairs, he found Reed waiting for him, and he did not look happy.

  “’Tis early for ye to already be frowning,” he observed with a sigh as he sat at the table. “I myself am having a grand morning, so out with it, and tell me what is bothering ye.”

  “The Armstrong guards are missing,” Reed said darkly.

  Hamish tensed. “What do ye mean, missing?” He knew very well that they were not at dinner last night, but he assumed that they’d taken their meals in the room.

  “We went to their chambers this morn when they didnae meet us to break their fast. Their beds are undisturbed.” Tavin grimaced. “The MacSeavers are now blaming the Armstrongs for Maggie’s murder. If they begin to spread rumors, we may find ourselves in another feud and so soon after signing the peace treaty.”

  This was the last thing that he needed. “Did ye uncover anything that would have sent them running to their laird?” Hamish tried to keep the fury from his voice.

  “Aye. According to Maggie’s neighbor, Brodie was seen several times near Maggie’s cottage. If ‘tis true that Maggie was carrying, perhaps Armstrong didnae want her to carry
the babe to term.”

  “Why would that bother him?” Men had bastards all the time. Hamish was a prime example. There was little stigma attached to it. Simply an inflated sense of virility.

  “That we doonae know, but if the guards found evidence, they may have returned home to destroy it. How shall we proceed?”

  Bringing up a charge of murder to the brother of a laird was a dangerous game, especially when they had no witnesses to the act. “Continue to find out what ye can,” Hamish said finally. “I will see to the border patrols to discover when the Armstrong guards would have left.”

  “Aye.”

  “And Reed. Ye may congratulate me. I am to be married.”

  His friend looked at him blankly. “But, Hamish, ye were already to be married.”

  “Hm.” With a grunt, he dismissed them and mulled over the newest development. So Brodie Armstrong was the murderer. A notable charmer, he would have no trouble getting Maggie into his bed, but still, murder over a swollen belly was a difficult one to believe, especially when he was the third son and would not have any real power except to maybe command a section of the army.

  No, a child out of wedlock would not make anyone blink, so perhaps there was another motive.

  After breakfast, he sent word through one of the maids’ sons to the priest to meet him at noon in the keep and headed to the border patrols. Shift change happened at dawn, but the reports were always in-depth, so he wasn’t worried, and he could track down his night shift leader and question him if need be.

  Donald had caught sight of him and was already meeting him at the gate. “Good morn to ye laird,” he greeted.

  “And to ye, Donald. Anything to report?”

  “The night patrol claimed that all was quiet. No travelers on the other side of the border, and only a few sightings of some of the kids attempting to rile the soldiers up.”

  Hamish sighed. Before Tyree and taken over, soldiers were made up of untrained men, any who could fight, and some at a horribly young age. Tyree had put a stop to that practice, decreeing that they must be trained before fighting, and Hamish was upholding that, but it meant that they had a slew of young lads who had seen battle but were no longer able to fight. Although they were in training, they were also put to work in the fields and as apprentices to some of the trades.

  It was not unusual for them to act out, under the cover of darkness, to take the edge off their adrenaline.

  “I will speak to them again. Donald, I tell ye this in confidence, and I will also tell the night border patrols, but it seems that the two guards the Armstrongs have left behind have disappeared. Could they have crossed the border?”

  Donald shook his head vehemently. “They would not have passed without being spotted. There has been a caravan of merchants who entered and left yesterday.”

  “And when was this?”

  “They were here in the morn a few hours after dawn, and they left at noon.”

  He was with the Armstrongs’ guards yesterday afternoon, so they hadn’t left with the caravan. It would have been difficult for them to blend in anyway. Most of their merchants were highly suspicious, living their lives on the dangerous highland roads.

  “Tell the men to be on high alert,” he advised Donald. “I will speak to the night patrol this evening.”

  “Aye, Laird.”

  Even without realizing it, pride had swelled up inside of him. In such a short period of time, he had gone from nobody to hero to laird and earned the trust of some of the most stubborn highlanders he’d ever met. For the first time, he felt as though he had found his place.

  Maybe Grace was right. Maybe it was time to let that be enough.

  He had the rest of the morning to see to his duties, and then he would meet with the priest and make Grace his bride.

  “Ye are glowing,” Edina observed with a twinkle in her eye. They were walking from the keep to one of the more popular seamstresses’ cottages. Grace had slept late and so the sun was almost in the middle of the sky when they started out. Lorna was doing her rounds to check on a few members of the clan that she’d treated in the last couple of days, so it was just Grace and Edina.

  Knowing full well that her cheeks were burning, Grace looked down. “I slept well,” she mumbled.

  “Aye, I bet ye did.” Casting a look behind her to make sure that Tavin wasn’t within listening distance, she lowered her voice. “I believe ‘tis my duty to make certain that ye do not do something to make ye glow like that.”

  “‘Tis not fair that men can enjoy themselves whenever they wish, but women cannae,” Grace said grumpily. “If the deed were done, and mind ye, I am not saying that it is, then at least I would finally be free for no one wants to marry a soiled dove.”

  Edina was quiet for a moment and then she burst out laughed. “A soiled dove! Darling lass, where on earth did ye hear that term? Certainly not from a highlander!”

  “After Alec and Cora married, Cora’s English family came to visit, and I was there. I may have heard the term from them,” she admitted. “Although not in a bad way. Her family is not what I had expected. I thought the English to be timid and prude.”

  “Some are,” the older woman admitted. “And some arenae. Any man worth his salt won’t give a damn about yer past. My husband didnae.”

  Grace was surprised that she stumbled to a stop. “Ye werenae...ye know...when ye married yer husband?”

  “Nay.” Edina looked a little lost for a moment. “There was one another, and it was perhaps because of him that made me distrust my husband when I first met him, but I was honest, and he admitted that he didnae care. He loved me regardless, and we had a wonderful life together.”

  “Do ye regret yer first time?”

  Edina smiled. “I wouldnae trade those moments for anything,” she said honestly. “And I have a feeling that ye feel the same, but ye must know that things are different now.”

  “Aye.” Grace nodded. “I do believe that they are different.”

  “Not just with ye but between ye. I fear that yer heart is at stake as well and that isnae so easy to mend.”

  They rounded a corner, and Grace didn’t say anything. She already had a feeling that she was in love with the ridiculous highland laird, but it wasn’t something she could admit out loud. No, the drafted man would probably demand that they marry, and then where would she be?

  “Heather is a crafty woman, so once she discovers we want information from her, she’ll want something from us in return.”

  “I am happy to give her lessons in swordsmanship.”

  Edina snorted. “I doonae think she would be interested in that.”

  It turned out that Heather was most certainly not interested in swordsmanship because Heather was an old and embittered woman. The more Grace spoke to her, the more she realized that Heather didn’t seem to be happy about anything. As soon as the old woman realized that she was speaking to the future mistress of the Hamilton clan, she launched into a tirade of things she wanted changed, from the number of windows in her cottage to where the soldiers practiced because the clank of their swords kept her up during her nap time.

  She didn’t even seem to enjoy her work with a needle and complained about the amount of people who requested her services.

  Finally, Grace could take no more. “Actually, Heather, and I am sorry to interrupt, but time is of the essence. I was here for a specific question. I wondered if you’d made a cloak for anyone recently?”

  “A cloak?” Heather frowned. “Now why would ye be asking me that?”

  “I thought I saw one last week and was astonished by the quality of work. It was not in clan colors though.”

  Heather just stared at her, and when Grace didn’t elaborate, she scrunched up her nose. “Well, lass? What color was it in? I make cloaks all the time!”

  The problem was that Grace couldn’t quite remember the color, but that would be odd if she admitted that. “It wouldn’t be a normal cloak for everyday wear. It would be heavy with
a silk lining.”

  “A silk lining?” Heather cackled. “I doonae know anyone fancy enough for a silk lining, certainly not around here! Doonae tell me that ye are going to be one of them high-brow mistresses. In any case, if ye be wanting silk, ye will be waiting quite some time for it. We doonae get much silk up here.”

  That meant that the cloak wasn’t made here, but brought.

  An uneasy feeling developed in the pit of her stomach, but she still couldn’t quite put her finger on what was bothering her. “Thank ye for yer time. I will be certain to let Hamish know yer comments,” she said politely, but that set Heather on a tirade all over again, and they were just out the door when Heather made her request.

  Hamish was not going to be happy.

  21

  Edina had plans for her noon meal, so Grace returned to the keep with Tavin following dutifully behind her. If he wondered about their visit with Heather, he didn’t say anything. He was loyal to Hamish, of course, but Grace couldn’t help but wonder just what he reported back.

  If he’d gleaned that she wasn’t planning on marrying Hamish, he hadn’t said anything to her about it. Mostly he just stood back and watched them carefully.

  Sometimes she felt like he was watching Lorna more than he was watching her.

  As they entered the keep, she was just about to suggest to Tavin that he join her for a meal when she noticed that Hamish was in one of the small private chambers, as was the priest. She didn’t want to interrupt a private confession, although it was strange for them to have one outside the church, but she did want to uphold her promise and inform Hamish of what she suspected with the cloak. When she stepped inside, she caught the tail end of the conversation.

  “I would need to speak to the lass, of course, hear her confession before entering a holy union with the laird,” the father said in a pleased tone. “But I suspect ye can be wed as early as tomorrow.”