My Highland Warrior (Warriors of the Highlands Book 1)

by Miriam Minger

  “Oh, Gabriel…” Fresh tears stung her eyes as she found herself pulled into his embrace, his face close to hers, his fingers tunneling into her hair.

  “I’m well, wife, those bruises will heal soon enough. Kiss me now…my love, my life.”

  She did, parting her lips to him as his mouth covered hers with such sweet possession that she felt her knees grow weak.

  His tongue delving deep while he gathered her gown and the linen shift underneath at her thighs and pulled the garment upward, Magdalene divested of her clothing before she could even blink. Then he was kissing her again, and lifted her as she gasped against his mouth, to deposit her into the tub, soothing warm water up to her knees.

  She didn’t sit, though, for Gabriel had grabbed a sponge floating amidst fragrant herbs cast upon the surface and began to squeeze water down over her body…her nipples at once puckering into hard nubs. She sucked in her breath when he bent his head and captured one in his mouth, the sensation so unlike anything she’d ever known, that she could not help but sigh…while he only laughed.

  A low husky sound that thrilled her as much as him suckling at her breast while he squeezed more water down her trembling abdomen and along her thighs.

  “Ah, Maggie…you’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her tingling flesh, then he lifted his head to stare into her eyes as he stepped into the tub to join her.

  His gaze as black as night, darkened by desire, he pressed the soaking wet sponge into her hand and then it became her turn to bathe him…his groan ragged when she squeezed warm water down the hard planes of his chest.

  She stared, fascinated, at the fine dark hair now slicked to his skin, and marveled that she hadn’t noticed it before. She couldn’t resist sliding a wet hand from one side of his chest to the other, his muscles twitching at her touch as he groaned again from deep in his throat.

  He took the sponge from her and dipped it into the water, and then gave it back so she could squeeze a warm torrent atop his massive shoulders…Magdalene leaning so close that her breasts pressed against him.

  With all that was seductively feminine, she raised herself on her toes to squeeze water down his back and kissed him at the base of his throat—his pulse racing as rampantly against her lips as her own heartbeat.

  She felt him shudder and heard him moan, Magdalene gasping when he cupped her bottom with both hands and lifted her from the tub.

  The sponge plopping into the water and droplets flying everywhere, the blazing logs in the fireplace sizzling and hissing.

  “Wrap your legs around me, Maggie,” he bade her raggedly, and she did, pressing her calves to his hard buttocks.

  Breathless, she knew the bed was close, but they didn’t make it that far.

  Instead he moved with her to the tapestry-covered wall and braced himself there with one arm, the other still holding her as he thrust himself into the slick wetness between her thighs.

  She cried out, not in pain but in ecstasy, for already she shook at his powerful onslaught, the hard thickness of his body filling her…only to recede and then thrust again and again.

  Gabriel shook, too, Magdalene gripping his shoulders as he captured her mouth with his kiss, his breathing hard, his broken groans growing louder.

  She scarcely heard them for her own—and later she would wonder if she’d screamed when her climax burst like white-hot lightning upon her.

  Her hips driving against Gabriel’s, even as he buried himself inside her so deeply that they might have been one flesh…shuddering, quaking, until Magdalene went limp against him with her back pressed into the wall.

  The thick softness of the tapestry behind her and Gabriel’s sweat-slicked body flush against the front of her, skin pressed to skin, his mouth teasing hers with a languorous kiss that made her moan all over again.

  She could not say when he moved with her to the bed, but she opened her eyes to find him lying beside her—Gabriel still kissing her, his tongue wetting her lips and delving inside her mouth again to taste her, tease her.

  She closed her eyelids and tasted him, too, her tongue swirling around his in so intimate and carnal a fashion that he stiffened against her…and then began to chuckle.

  “Greedy wench. We’ve yet tae finish our bath—yet tae eat.”

  She smiled up at him and wound her arms around his neck, gently shaking her head.

  “No bath, then?”

  “No, husband.”

  “No food?”

  “Mayhap in a while. I’d rather you kiss me again—oh!”

  He had rolled with her so suddenly to the opposite side of the bed, Magdalene now atop him, that she felt lightheaded even as he drew her down to nibble her lips.

  Yet only for a moment before he lifted her slightly and grew still beneath her, staring into her eyes with all seriousness as he traced the curve of her mouth with his thumb.

  “I love you, Magdalene. Never forget how much.”

  “Never…” she echoed, her long, tawny hair like a veil enveloping them as she leaned down to kiss him.

  Sweetly. Tenderly. Her heart so full that she didn’t know if she could utter another word, though she somehow managed a whisper.

  “I love you, Gabriel MacLachlan. Forever…”

  Gabriel stared down at Magdalene sleeping so peacefully, her tousled hair a burnished gold upon the pillow in the dawning light—and hated himself all the more for what he intended to do with her.

  Yet he had no choice. Not if he wished her to live.

  He thrust his head through a clean tunic that he’d pulled from the armoire, his clothing filling only a quarter of the space while Magdalene’s gowns—most of them once belonging to Anna—occupied the rest.

  Soon her wardrobe would be packed for the journey back to the convent, though he could not help wondering if she would wear them there. Mayhap she would even burn them—aye, he had no doubt she might hate him, too, for a time, until she accepted that what he’d done was only because he loved her.

  So fiercely that the thought of her gone from MacLachlan Castle made his heart ache with a piercing pain he’d never felt before, Gabriel turning from the bed to go thrust on his boots.

  They lay beside the tub where he had discarded his clothing yesterday…the rest of the day and deep into the night spent in impassioned lovemaking, Gabriel unable to get his fill of her. Nor could he suppress even now a smile at the memory of their empty stomachs growling in protest long after it had grown dark.

  Aye, they had eaten finally, the braised chicken and vegetables cold, but it had tasted like the finest fare with Magdalene at his side.

  Both of them sitting on the rumpled bed, offering bites to each other, wine spilling down her pert breasts that had only been an invitation for him to—och, why was he tormenting himself?

  His boots on and his sword belt fastened around his waist, Gabriel decided to forego his breacan for now.

  When he returned to fetch Magdalene, he would finish dressing—if she hadn’t bolted the door against him. Just as she had fought him while pretending to be a lunatic, he had every expectation that she would resist his decision—

  “Gabriel?”

  Her sleepy voice making his heart pound, he steeled himself and went to the bed. Seeing him, her eyes widened and she looked at him with confusion.

  “You’ve dressed already. Is aught amiss?”

  “You might think so, but there is nothing tae be done about it, Maggie. I’m taking you back tae the convent. It’s the only way I have tae protect you—”

  “The convent?”

  Her voice stricken, Gabriel had never seen her more stunned, though again he steeled himself to see the thing done.

  “Aye. I’ll summon Donella and Euna to help you pack. I would never have brought you here if not for Seoras’s command—”

  “No, Gabriel, I willna leave you! I love you—”

  “And I, you, woman, more than I can say, but the curse still hangs over this place! I willna see you dead in your grave becaus
e you married me—now get up, get dressed!”

  Tears filled her eyes at his harshness, which made Gabriel turn on his heel and stride to the door for fear he would relent and sweep her into his arms.

  “Gabriel, wait! Gabriel!”

  “No more, Maggie! As soon as the men are readied, we’ll be leaving for Dumbarton.”

  Chapter 26

  Magdalene stared in shock as Gabriel left the room without a backward glance, slamming the door behind him.

  She couldn’t move…could hardly breathe! Surely she was trapped within a nightmare and she had only to look beside her and see Gabriel sleeping—och, he wasn’t there! Dear God help her, she wasn’t dreaming!

  She lay there immobile, staring blindly at the canopy as passionate memories swept over her. Not a one from the moment they had been left alone in their bedchamber yesterday gave her any clue of what had transpired this morning—no, not a one!

  Yet that wasn’t true, Magdalene realized suddenly. The blankets fell from her breasts as she sat up and shivered in the coolness of the room, Gabriel leaving her without even stoking the fire as if not wanting to encourage her to linger.

  He had spoken of not wanting harm to come to her, aye, and that the curse had been upon his mind since he had first agreed to take her as his bride.

  He had said, too, that they wouldn’t speak of it anymore that day…but clearly for her to awaken to such a terrible surprise, the curse had never been far from his thoughts even while they had—

  “Ah, God, he knew all along what he was going to do,” Magdalene murmured, her fingers pressed to her lips, still swollen from his impassioned kisses.

  Her nipples hardening as she remembered his mouth suckling her, his tongue teasing her, while between her thighs she ached for wanting him even now when it felt as if her heart were breaking…

  “No, I willna go,” she said under her breath, shaking her head as a determined resolve flared within her.

  She had told him that she didn’t believe in curses! There had to be something she could do to show him that they weren’t real at all. Something so shocking where she could prove to him those other deaths had been a tragic coincidence and nothing more…

  Her heart racing, Magdalene jumped out of bed and ran to pick up her shift from the floor and pull it over her head—no time to do anything more.

  Already Gabriel would be in the bailey gathering the men that he wanted to ride with him—och, had he forgotten that she could have been killed last year at the convent if not for Robert the Bruce? She would be no safer there than here; aye, she would tell him that, too!

  She would shout it loud enough for everyone to hear that she defied the MacLachlan family curse to strike her, Magdalene running barefoot to the door and flinging it open only to stop dead at the sight of Rhona looking up at her.

  “Maggie, you’re awake!”

  Such a bright smile lit the child’s face while Magdalene glanced down the hall, relief filling her to spy Grania near the steps, clearly come looking for her young charge.

  “Rhona, go back tae your room with your nurse, will you? I promise I’ll come and find you straightaway and we’ll have breakfast together. Would you like that?”

  “Oh, aye!” was all Magdalene took time to hear after hugging Rhona and giving her a gentle push in the direction of Grania. She followed her down the hall for only a short way and then ducked into the stairway that led to the roof, her heart already pounding.

  Och, mayhap she was mad after all to attempt such a feat!

  Magdalene raced up the circular steps, around and around until she felt dizzy, but she didn’t stop. Not until she had reached the heavy door and pushed her way outside, the morning air fresh and bracing after the dank mustiness of the stairway.

  The sun was just peeking over the distant mountains as she took a deep breath to try and calm herself.

  She felt suddenly as if she had a heavy weight crushing her chest as fear overwhelmed her—heaven help her, she hated heights! Only the din of masculine voices below—Gabriel’s among them, she was certain of it—made her move toward the crenellated parapet so she might look down into the bailey.

  “Oh, God…” she whispered, gritting her teeth as she leaned over and saw him talking to Finlay, who must have spied her for he grabbed Gabriel’s arm and pointed upward at the tower.

  She didn’t waste another moment, but hoisted herself up on the parapet no matter she winced from scraping her knees against the rough stone.

  Slowly, carefully, she stood up, doing her best to balance herself as a strong gust of wind whipped her shift around her legs.

  “Magdalene!”

  Gabriel’s stricken voice echoed from one end of the bailey to another as she stepped over the gap in the wall, raising her voice so he could surely hear her.

  “You see, husband? I told you I dinna believe in curses—and if there is such a thing, I dare it this very moment tae dash me tae the ground!”

  Magdalene held her breath and glanced skyward, praying that the Almighty would both forgive and protect her as she stepped over another gap—a stronger gust of wind making her come close to tottering.

  Her arms flung wide, she struggled to maintain her balance. She heard shrieks of alarm, servants gathered now with the men, but she saw no sign of Gabriel when she hazarded a glance below.

  Behind her, she heard the door to the tower slam against the wall—dear God, how could he have run up the steps so quickly? She crouched down to climb off the parapet as a high-pitched voice rose above the gusting wind.

  “I would have let you live if you’d been mad, aye, I pitied you, but no more!”

  Magdalene froze to see Grania rushing toward her, the nursemaid’s face twisted into a mask of rage that terrified her.

  “I loved the MacLachlan but he chose another—so I cursed his wife and every bride after and now you will die, too!”

  Magdalene shrieked as Grania grabbed her at the same moment she managed to jump down from the parapet, and shoved her headfirst into the nearest gap.

  Her shoulders held by talon-like hands so strong that Magdalene stared with stark fear into the bailey below, people pointing upward and screaming.

  Screaming as did Magdalene, Grania pushing her closer to the edge though she tried mightily to fight her.

  She heard another scream, too, a child’s, Magdalene realizing that Rhona must have followed Grania up the steps to the roof.

  “Rhona, stay where you are—dinna move!” With all of her strength, Magdalene pushed backward and fell to her hands and knees inside the parapet, the nursemaid tumbling to the ground behind her.

  Yet Grania didn’t stay down, but rushed at Magdalene even as she rolled to one side…the nursemaid pitching forward.

  Her terrible scream following her all the way down to the ground until it ended with a sickening thud.

  Magdalene gasped for breath as Rhona ran crying to embrace her at the same moment Gabriel rushed through the doorway onto the roof.

  His face white. His eyes filled with fear of what he might find—only to lunge for her and Rhona, and sink to his knees to pull them into his arms.

  “It was Grania all these years…Grania,” Magdalene whispered against his ear, his face as wet as her own.

  He said nothing, only hugged her fiercely and Rhona, too, the wind whistling around them.

  “Promise me you’ll never step foot atop any of the towers unless I’m with you,” Gabriel said sternly as the great hall resonated around him with people sitting down to breakfast.

  “Aye, Uncle,” piped up Keira, seated opposite him at the head table.

  “Oh, aye, Uncle,” added Rhona, looking quite somber from where she sat next to her older sister. “I didna like it at all—”

  “Ah, Rhona, you’re as brave as can be tae have climbed up those steps! You saved my life!”

  Gabriel watched as Magdalene jumped up from her chair to hasten around the table and give Rhona a big hug, though the child looked doubtful.


  “I-I did?”

  “Aye, with those fine lungs of yours! When I heard you cry out, it gave me the courage tae fight even harder—och, sweetheart, let’s not talk of it anymore. It’s a sad thing that’s happened for so many years, but Grania is at rest now, God forgive her. And we’ve no more MacLachlan family curse tae worry about, aye, husband?”

  Gabriel nodded, though he still felt a catch in his chest that he had come so close to losing Magdalene, much in part to her wildly impulsive feat atop the parapet—though he loved her all the more for it!

  He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, either, and he sensed it would take some time for Rhona to put what she had seen behind her. Yet children, thank God, were resilient…and his clever and courageous wife so kindhearted and loving, he knew both girls would thrive under her care.

  Och, no more jealousy-crazed nursemaids as long as he was earl of MacLachlan Castle and whatever other stronghold and lands King Robert had bestowed upon him!

  As Magdalene settled once again into the chair next to his, he leaned toward her, keeping his voice low as Keira and Rhona dug into their oat cakes drizzled with honey.

  “In truth, wife, I meant those words about the towers for you as well.”

  “I know, Gabriel. I promise I’ll never venture there again unless you’re with me tae hold my hand. I’ve a great fear of heights, remember?”

  He saw teasing in her stunning sea green eyes but so much love, too, that his breath stilled as she leaned toward him and pressed the sweetest kiss to his lips.

  His beautiful, brave, beloved—aye, and a wee bit mad, too, Magdalene.

  Dumbarton, Scotland, Three days later…

  “It’s good news, Reverend Mother?”

  Nodding at Sister Tabitha, Sister Agnes sat by the fountain and watched the messenger sent from MacLachlan Castle mount his horse and prepare to ride out through the convent gates.