A Beauty at the Highland Court: A Star-Crossed Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 7)

by Celeste Barclay

  “Aye.” Lachlan felt her tense, and he knew she assumed he meant from his previous experiences. While that was true, it wasn’t what he was thinking. “Because my body is in control, Belle. I’m struggling. I want you so much I’d throw caution to the wind to have you. There is only a wee bit of sense trying to make me do the honorable thing. And I’m ready to tell it to shut its gob.”

  Lachlan resumed his assault on her senses, and Arabella clung to him. But as a tightening began in her core, she refused to ignore Lachlan and focused on what he admitted he needed. Her hand wrapped around his now-covered length, her thumb rubbing along the ridge on the underside.

  “Tell me what to do, Lach. Let me.”

  Lachlan groaned as he continued to suckle her. He encouraged her to increase her pace as he pressed her more firmly against his leg. His other hand wrapped around hers as he showed her how to stroke him. Their mouths connected as Lachlan thrust his tongue into her mouth as though he were starved and looking for succor. Arabella’s core spasmed as the bundle of sensitive nerves under Lachlan’s thumb seemed to explode. Her hips moved of their own volition, jerking and twitching as she craved something to fill the hollowness in her sheath. As she stroked Lachlan, she understood what she needed.

  “Tighter. Faster,” Lachlan croaked, and Arabella gladly obliged. Lachlan buried his face in Arabella’s shoulder and hair as he grunted once. His teeth bit into where her shoulder met her neck, and her core released another tidal wave of pleasure. Arabella felt Lachlan’s cock throb in her hand. Then something wet and cool coated it. Lachlan hurried to use his plaid to wipe her hand clean, but Arabella didn’t let go. She continued to stroke him until she was certain she’d milked him dry.

  “Belle,” Lachlan breathed before pressing the most tender kiss Arabella ever imagined. It was the opposite of the kisses from just moments earlier, but just as exquisite. His arms wrapped around her waist and drew her higher on his thigh. They clung to one another as their breathing slowed, and the pounding of their hearts eased. Arabella rested her head against Lachlan’s shoulder.

  “What I wouldn’t give to be in a bed right now,” Arabella whispered and yawned. “I have never felt so comfortable or ready to fall asleep as I do now.”

  “One day soon I will make that wish come true. Then I will make sure you fall asleep every night just like that,” Lachlan promised. He felt Arabella still, so he rubbed his hand over her back. Her fingers pressed against his jaw, turning his head so she could kiss him.

  “Do you really believe that’s true?”

  “I told you, Arabella, I will fight tooth and nail to make you my wife. I will run away with you if I must. I’ve cared aboot you for too long to just walk away.”

  “Run to where? Dunrobin? You’re the Earl of Sutherland’s heir. You can’t go anywhere but home.”

  Lachlan eased Arabella back and shifted so the shaft of light that peeked past of the edge of the tapestry made it possible for them to see one another’s faces. It surprised Arabella to see how stern and earnest Lachlan’s expression was.

  “Do not doubt I will give up everything for you, Belle. I’ve imagined it so many times. But it was doubt and loyalty to my sisters that kept me from acting upon it. But given the choice, now that I ken you return my feelings, I would pick you over all else. Without hesitation. I never thought I would have the chance, but now that I do, I won’t give up.”

  “Lach, I wasn’t jesting when I said I would run if my father or the king try to force me to marry Beathan, or anyone else for that matter. I’ve been—I’ve cared aboot you since we met. I won’t accept anyone else now that I ken you want the same thing I do.”

  “We will solve this together. But promise me, Belle. You won’t do aught impetuous or reckless out of fear or frustration. Let me be at your side, so we face this together. Allyson may have run to avoid Ewan, but she nearly died for it. I don’t want that for you.” Lachlan brushed his lips against hers in a brief kiss before he pulled away. “If your roommate awakes, she will wonder where you’ve gone. You don’t need her to be suspicious or a gossip.”

  “True. But I was still incredibly comfortable a moment ago. I’d rather go back to that. Or better yet, what we were doing right before that, what left me feeling boneless.” Arabella laughed, and Lachlan pinched her backside.

  “Cheeky,” he growled.

  “Only for you.” Arabella stood on her toes and pressed a kiss to Lachlan’s jaw. He tilted his head so she could kiss his cheek. Lachlan checked the passageway and waited to spy any movement. When he was certain the corridor was empty, he stuck his hand out behind him. Arabella didn’t hesitate to place her hand in his, and he drew her out of the alcove. Still holding her hand, they slinked along the wall until they reached Arabella’s door. Lachlan cupped her face in both hands and pressed a butterfly-soft kiss to her puckered lips.

  “You are so precious to me, Belle,” Lachlan whispered. For a moment Arabella thought he might confess his feelings, but with another quick kiss, Lachlan released her and stepped back. “I will try for that audience with King Robert tomorrow.”

  Lachlan kissed her forehead, and Arabella knew he was lingering. But eventually, Lachlan stepped into the center of the passageway, where Arabella was unable to reach him. He waited until she opened her chamber door, and she looked back over her shoulder. He slipped into the darkness as Arabella closed the door behind her.

  Ten

  Lachlan struggled not to tap his toes in irritation and impatience. He’d arrived early to the king’s Privy Council chamber and was waiting outside. He’d succeeded in being among the first to gather, but the chancellor still hadn’t granted entrance. He was loath to use his personal relationship with the Bruce, but as his frustration grew, so did the temptation. He clenched his fists behind his back and remained in place, stoic rather than pacing. The hours ticked by until the bells rang for the evening meal. Lachlan felt tempted to punch the chancellor when he announced that the king would receive no one else for the rest of the day. The pugnacious man looked directly at Lachlan as he made the announcement, and Lachlan would have been happy to knock the smug expression from the short man’s face.

  Lachlan weaved his way through the crowd, in a lather from nervousness, disappointment, and annoyance. As he entered the Great Hall, he scanned the gathering people, but didn’t see the usual group of young ladies, nor was the queen at her seat. With no one to notice, he gave into the impulse and tapped his foot. He heard the gaggle of women before he saw them as he turned to look at the doorway. He spotted Arabella immediately, her movement a giveaway. Her auburn hair rarely caught his attention; he’d long since overlooked her unique features and saw the woman he’d admired from a distance. As he waited for her to approach, he thought about what attracted him to her like a loadstone. She had a cutting and dry sense of humor, but she was never malicious or cruel with her jests. She was astute and possessed wisdom beyond her years. He was also taken by her kind heart and open-mindedness when she befriended Maude, and he’d seen her with Cairren Kennedy, who the other women alienated because of her olive complexion and Arab heritage. She’d not batted an eyelash at either woman and became friends with them soon after they arrived.

  “Lach?” Arabella’s fingertips tapped his elbow. He glanced down to find Arabella’s brow wrinkled. “Looking for someone?”

  “You, but I got lost in thought thinking aboot you,” he grinned. But his smile faltered as he steeled himself for the disappointment Arabella would inevitably feel when he shared his news. “I wasn’t able to gain an audience with King Robert.”

  Lachlan watched as Arabella’s face fell. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at her feet. Her hand crumpled something within it that looked like parchment.

  “Belle? I’ll try again tomorrow, and if I can’t be seen, then I’ll use my relationship with my godparents to get me in.”

  “It’ll be too late,” Belle choked. She handed Lachlan the wadded piece of vellum. “Beathan and my father will be here
in a day to sign the betrothal contracts. I’m to leave with Beathan within a sennight.”

  Lachlan felt like he’d been felled by a poleax. Try as he might, his lungs didn’t seem to fill with air as panic replaced his irritation. He drew Arabella out of the Great Hall as they navigated their way back to the antechamber the king and queen often used for private meetings. He would either find his godfather there and address the matter, or they would have privacy. When no guards stood in his way, he assumed the chamber was empty. He yanked open the door and guided Arabella in. They both came to an abrupt halt as they found the king and queen locked in an embrace. Lachlan and Arabella spun on their heels, but King Robert’s voice filled the otherwise silent room.

  “What’s the point in leaving now?” King Robert snapped.

  “Robert,” Queen Elizabeth hissed. She cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head toward the couple’s hands. Neither realized that King Robert’s booming demand had made them entwine their fingers.

  “He’s too late. He shouldn’t have kept leaving his bollocks at Dunrobin,” King Robert huffed.

  “And I think our godson loves his sisters more than almost anyone,” Queen Elizabeth observed.

  “What do Maude and Blair have to do with it?”

  “My dear, Maude, Blair, and Lady Arabella were—are—very close. Lachlan wouldn’t have wanted to ruin the few friendships Maude had. Blair relied on Lady Arabella once her sister was gone,” the perceptive queen explained, and the king grunted.

  “Lachlan, you’re still too late,” King Robert cast a gimlet eye at the younger man.

  “Is Lady Arabella already wed?” Lachlan waited until the king replied no. “Are the betrothal contracts signed?” The king answered no once more. “Then I am not too late.”

  “Laird Johnstone and Laird Gunn have already come to an agreement. The signatures are a mere formality. The betrothal is set,” King Robert argued.

  “If Laird Johnstone is marrying Lady Arabella off to a Highlander to prove his loyalty, he can’t do much better than the future Earl of Sutherland,” Lachlan countered as he narrowed his eyes at the king.

  “On that point I would agree. But the future Earl of Sutherland dragged his feet. Now your mithering won’t do you any good. Upset or not, Lady Arabella is set to marry Laird Gunn.” Robert the Bruce grinned once more, knowing that his next comment would bother Lachlan the most. “And don’t be mardy.”

  Lachlan’s cheeks sucked in as he fought not to respond to the king’s taunt. He’d detested the word “mardy” since he was a child. He didn’t appreciate being called petulant and awkward. He had a genuine reason for requesting the king’s intervention. He loved Arabella. He wasn’t a dog in a manger.

  “Your Majesty, the Queen is correct. I didn’t move forward on my interest in Lady Arabella because I feared to do aught that would upset my sisters’ relationship with her. I wasn’t here every day. I couldn’t protect Maude. How could I jeopardize the one friendship she had? There’s naught I won’t do for my sisters, and that includes sacrificing my happiness for them. But both of my sisters are wed now, and I believe they want Lady Arabella and me to be together.”

  Lachlan and Arabella watched the royal couple grimace. They knew the king and queen regretted not intervening on their goddaughter’s behalf when a group of ladies-in-waiting ostracized her. Lachlan felt bad for the remorse that entered Queen Elizabeth’s eyes, but he took guilty pleasure in seeing King Robert grow uncomfortable.

  “Lachlan, it’s not that simple, and you know that. Laird Johnstone and Laird Gunn have struck an agreement. You and Lady Arabella don’t have a say in it,” King Robert reminded.

  “But you do,” Lachlan asserted.

  “I do, but I won’t,” King Robert replied. Lachlan narrowed his eyes before looking at Queen Elizabeth. He sent the queen a silent plea to intervene on their behalf, but she gave a slight shake of her head. Lachlan nodded once and turned away from the royals, taking Arabella’s hand in his. She looked back over her shoulder, aghast that Lachlan would leave without being dismissed.

  “Lach,” she hissed, but he ignored her. It wasn’t until they reached the door that the king spoke again.

  “Do something foolish, and it won’t just be you who’s punished, Lachlan,” King Robert called. Lachlan slowly turned around, his disgust evident as he looked at the man who was present on the day he was born. He’d known King Robert his entire life, but the man had just threatened Arabella and his family. He wouldn’t easily forgive or forget that.

  Eleven

  Arabella was certain she would be ill. She trembled once she and Lachlan left the royal antechamber. Lachlan’s disregard for etiquette and protocol scared her, and her stomach was in knots from learning that the Bruce wouldn’t support her relationship with Lachlan. She wanted nothing more than to slip into her chamber and have a tipple of whisky. But she had none left. Frustration at both the king’s decision and her lack of alcohol made her temper flare. She bit her tongue to keep from turning it on Lachlan.

  “I will speak to your father as soon as he arrives. I will reason with him and remind him that the Sutherlands have far more to offer in an alliance than the Gunns,” Lachlan assured her, but Arabella shook her head.

  “You don’t know my father. If he’s made up his mind, then it may as well be written in blood and stone. He won’t reconsider,” Arabella explained.

  “Even if he learns what type of mon Beathan is?”

  “Don’t you think he kens? He will have learned everything he can aboot Beathan to ensure he could outmaneuver the mon when they negotiated. He doesn’t care. He wants to secure our clan lands in the West Marches, and he wants King Robert to absolve him of his past alliance with Longshanks. He doesn’t worry aboot being in the king’s favor. He wants the king to forget aboot him, so he can do as he wants.”

  “But does he ken that I want you? That I’ve always wanted you to be my wife?” Lachlan demanded.

  “Then you—we—should have spoken up sooner.” Tears filled Arabella’s eyes, but she refused to cry. She wouldn’t turn into a watering pot in front of Lachlan. If she did marry him, one day she would be the Countess of Sutherland. She would show Lachlan that she could face adversity with calm. But her mind roiled with the need to find whisky or even wine and ale. She smiled wanly at Lachlan. “This may be our last evening together.”

  “I refuse to accept that,” Lachlan countered.

  “I don’t want to waste it, Lach.” They looked in the Great Hall’s direction, and they sighed, which brought a smile to both of their faces. They knew they couldn’t sit together for the meal, but they could find one another once the music began.

  “I would dance every set with you, Belle.” Wistfulness filled Lachlan’s voice.

  “That would cause quite the stir,” Arabella pointed out.

  “Aye. I would make it clear that we are a couple.”

  “A couple of fools. It would only cause a scandal that would greet my father and Beathan at the gates,” Arabella countered.

  “I wouldn’t want a scandal to tarnish your name, Belle. You’re good and pure. But it might be what makes Beathan turn back to the hills and ride away.”

  “But my father would remain. I could never face him again. A scandal would force him to acknowledge I’m not perfect. To him, I have to be perfect. He’d never forgive me if I’m not. What value would I be to him or my clan if I’m not?”

  “Och, Belle.” Lachlan didn’t know what else to say as he wrapped his arms around her. When she didn’t pull away, Lachlan knew she needed him more than she cared if anyone saw them. Their mere standing together alone would ignite a scandal, so being found in one another’s arms would ruin Arabella. He would come out unscathed, and he knew how unfair that was. He kissed her forehead before leaning back. He took her chin in his fingers, glancing around him before bringing their mouths together. It was a light and brief kiss, but there was affection and tenderness in it. “Let us dine. Then we will dance. We will figure th
is out. I promise, Belle.”

  Arabella nodded, trying to appear as though she was confident in what Lachlan pledged, but she wasn’t. Lachlan was underestimating her father’s tenacity. They went their separate ways once they entered. Arabella joined the ladies-in-waiting, and Lachlan made for the table where his guards sat. Both were reserved during the meal, but they had eyes for no one else, and they found one another once the music began. Their movements were flawless after years of dancing together. Their bodies glided together with ease, much as they had the day before in the alcove. Lachlan held Arabella as close as he dared and was loath to let her go at the end of the set. They partnered with others, but they came back together every third set. They were aware that people watched them and whispered. While they weren’t scandalous by dancing so often, they toed a fine and dangerous line.

  By the end of the evening, Arabella had nearly forgotten about her father and future betrothed. A night of dancing mostly in Lachlan’s arms had eased the tension between her shoulders and between her brows. But when it was time to retire, she was forced to leave Lachlan’s arms. She looked over her shoulder as Rebekah tugged her toward the doors. Laurel and Caitlyn were soon by her sides, and the crowd swallowed her. She suspected Lachlan could still see her from his superior height, but her heart sank when she could see him no longer.

  Eliza awaited her when she returned to her chamber, helping her take down her hair before easing the gown down her arms. She scrubbed her face and crawled into bed. It wasn’t long before Rebekah’s rhythmic breathing signaled that she’d fallen asleep, but Arabella laid in her bed. She was fully awake, and her eyes didn’t want to remain closed. She thought about their impromptu audience with both the king and the queen. She considered how she would feel when she saw her father after nearly a year. She worried about what it would be like to meet Beathan Gunn, knowing he believed they would marry. She feared how Lachlan would react when her father refused to consider his troth.