by Eliza Knight
“Cormac, our chieftain, will be home soon with his bride,” Graham called back. “And I would verra much like to introduce all of ye to mine, Lady Clara. Come to the castle, and we shall celebrate. Spread the word to Sutherlands all around!” These were lines repeated as they traveled down the road until they had a trail of people chasing after them.
At the foot of the keep, servants and clan elders met them. Graham leapt from the horse, reaching to take her down with him. He held her arm up and loudly proclaimed, “Lady Clara de Montfort, my bride-to-be. We shall wed in view of all the Sutherland clan, and when my brother returns, we shall celebrate again with his bride.”
“We are saved?” a gray-haired man with bushy brows asked.
“Aye, we are saved.”
“She’s smiling,” said a little lad, pointing right at Clara. His red hair was wild upon his head, and he had a smudge of dirt on his nose as if he’d been pulled from a wild game to come and see them home. “Why is she smiling?”
His mother tried to shush him, but Clara only laughed. “I’m smiling because I’m happy,” she replied.
“How can ye be happy? My da said ye’d be howling like my bairn sister.” The wee lad scrunched up his nose in confusion.
“Where is your da?” Graham said with a low growl in his voice, but Clara pressed her hand on his arm, passing him a tender smile.
“Your da was likely teasing, wee thing,” Clara said, kneeling down to get on eye level with him.
“Nay, he said all brides holler, especially English ones.”
Clara tried hard to keep in her laughter since the lad was so very serious. “Well, you see, that is where we are lucky then, for I am not all the way English. I am also French. But I shall let you in on a little secret. You see, this man Graham, I love him, and so I will not holler about being wed with him. I will sing with joy.”
The lad looked horrified. “I hope you can sing well then because my da said—”
The lad’s mother put her hand over his mouth. “We are so verra happy to welcome ye to the clan. I’m Bessie. I help in the kitchens.”
“Thank you,” Clara said, and looked about the clan. They were perhaps a little thin, a little harried in testament to how much they’d been through, but they looked happy. They were good people. Giving each other the support and care they needed. They looked out for one another, still found joy in the life that they’d been blessed to keep. This was just more evidence that Graham and Cormac had done all they could to make sure their people suffered as little as possible.
Despite the hardships the people had endured, they had faith. They had hope.
Graham slipped his hand in hers. “We invite ye all to celebrate with us, for we are so verra happy.” He leaned in then and planted a kiss on her lips in full view of everyone.
Clara’s first instinct was to pull away, but the moment she felt the warmth of his lips on hers, she melted into him. She was pretty certain right then and there that kissing Graham would never be boring, and she’d never resist, and that he could kiss her as much as he wanted in front of whoever he wanted for the rest of their days.
The people filed inside the great hall, and Graham ordered casks of ale and wine to be opened from their stores. Meanwhile, Duncan, Lachlan and Alan passed out some of the treats they’d brought back from England—candied almonds and dried figs. Sacks of grain, peas and salted pork were passed off to the kitchen to make a fine pea and pork stew with freshly baked bread.
Men and women brought their children with small gifts from their own kitchens, and they spent hours talking to everyone. Clara tried to remember names and faces and was exceedingly pleased with the way everyone was so welcoming. She’d been worried about how they would accept her. And it made her all the more grateful to Graham for the way he showed her off with pride.
She was certain her fate at the Ross holding would have been entirely different. Here, she didn’t even get the feeling that the people were nice to her because of the wealth she would bring to their clan, but because they loved Graham, and by extension, would love who he loved.
That night, having had a little bit too much wine, Graham escorted Clara to his bedchamber, which she would sleep in alone that night. Both of them stumbled across the threshold, laughing like children.
“Why can you not stay here with me?” she asked, flinging her arms around his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her in close. “Because we’ve no’ yet wed, and I’d hate to ruin your reputation.”
“We spent plenty of time together on the road, your men were there, what is different about now?”
Graham shrugged, a teasing tilt to his lips. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“I am already very fond of your heart.” She pressed her lips to his, coaxing him into a deep kiss.
The fresh tub of warm water that had been placed in the center of Graham’s bedchamber for washing was extremely tempting, especially with Clara in his arms. Graham had not exactly told her the entire truth. This was his chamber, and given they’d already announced they were to wed, and he’d brought her back here, there was no measure of propriety the people were taking. In fact, he’d planned to sleep in his brother’s bed simply for the sake of… what? Imagined rules?
On the morrow, they would wed at the Sutherland kirk, vows they’d already told each other repeated in front of everyone.
What would it hurt to make love to her now, in this chamber that would be theirs, the night before they were to wed? Why did it feel like he was tempting fate? Kissing her, touching her, loving her and soaking in her moans of pleasure at Rose Citadel, and on the road back to Sutherland had been incredible, and so far, removed from his home that he’d not had any qualms about it.
Now, it felt like if he were to spread her out on his bed before the deed was said and done, he would be jinxing them both.
There was still a good chance that Baston Ross would come after them both too, out of revenge. Not that sleeping here versus his brother’s room would make much of a difference if his enemy did decide to come knocking, but he’d be more alert in his brother’s room than if he were here with her, his attention entirely centered on the spot between her legs.
“Just for a little while,” she crooned against his lips. “You can leave if you choose… after.”
All the blood in his body surged to his groin, flaring his cock out toward her body in an answer he couldn’t control.
“Ye tempt me.”
“I’m supposed to.” She led him to the tub, stripping him out of his clothes while he stood helpless to stop her, and not wanting to at all.
Then she gave him her back, and he helped her out of her clothes until they were both standing nude before each other.
“The tub is not big enough for us both,” he said. “Ye go first, and I’ll wash ye.”
She agreed and climbed into the tub, shivering as the water slipped up over her skin. Graham used a small ball of scented soap to wash her skin, sliding his hands over her curves and dips, his fingers between her thighs. Her head fell back, and she moaned as he circled the little nub of pleasure, unable to help himself. He captured her mouth in a heated kiss as he massaged her sex until she cried out against his mouth.
“Your turn,” she said, climbing from the tub, her skin flushed red from pleasure.
Graham eagerly replaced where she’d been in the water and leaned back as she worked her soapy hands all over his body. His cock jutted from the water, demanding attention, and she gave it to him. Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she worked him up and down, until he stood up abruptly out of the water, the need to plant himself inside her strong.
But before he could lift his leg over the rim of the tub, his defiant wee lass dropped to her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth.
Graham’s knees nearly buckled at the shock of her tongue and the warm cavern of her mouth on his sensitive flesh.
“Clara…” he groaned.
T
his was an act they’d not yet tried, and she’d gone into it eagerly, unabashedly, and good God… she was magnificent.
Graham threaded his fingers in her hair, his eyes closing, head falling back until he could take the torment no more. He tugged her away from him, climbed from the tub, and lifted her into the air, her legs wrapping around his hips as he carried her to the bed.
Their mouths clashed together, her arms around his shoulders, and as they fell to the surface of the mattress, he entered her body in one swift move. They both cried out as he buried himself into her, his body pressing her firmly down, and she wrapping herself around him.
With practiced ease and passion, they came together, their bodies colliding over and over until they were both crying out in release.
As they lay together in bed, his soon-to-be wife wrapped in his arms, Graham knew this was the right place to be. Propriety and superstitions be damned. When he was with Clara, he felt whole, and it would be a torment to be away from her.
They made love throughout the night. And in the morning, they both woke to make love one more time before cleaning themselves up and preparing for their wedding. Clara was giddy with excitement. Though they’d declared themselves to each other over and over again, today would be the day that they did so in front of one and all. It would be official—she would be his wife. In the great hall, the women presented Clara with a crown of wildflowers that she placed on her head.
Hand in hand, they walked to the kirk, giddy like two adolescents about to make their dreams come true. The clan had gathered, cheering them on the way to the kirk. And as they stood before each other repeating their vows, another cheer went up at the back of the crowd, catching their attention.
Cormac and Isolde rode into the bailey, smiles on their faces. But perhaps the best part of that reunion was when Pip and Alan spotted each other. They ran toward one another as though they’d been separated by years and not a matter of weeks. Alan bent down to his knees, and Pip leapt up into his arms, licking him all over his face.
“’Tis about time ye arrived,” Graham called to his brother.
“At least one of us will witness the vows of the other,” Cormac replied, leaping from his horse. He took down his bride, and they joined Graham and Clara, standing as witnesses as they continued their vows.
Finally, they arrived at Graham’s favorite part—the kiss.
Hands around Clara’s waist, he tugged her close, then dipped her backward over his arm, and claimed her mouth in a carnal, possessive kiss that left him hard and wanting. She shivered in his arms, and he knew her body was answering the call, but they had to wait just a little bit longer, for he’d set up a surprise for his bride.
“Come, one and all, for I’ve got a surprise for my wife!” Graham led them down to the beach, where the waves crashed against the shore and birds called overhead.
Set up beside each other, several dozen paces away, were two targets and pressed into the sand at their feet were bows and arrows.
“Are you going to undress?” Clara teased, joy creasing the corners of her eyes.
“Only if ye do,” he taunted back.
Cormac interrupted. “Please, the both of ye, remain clothed for our sakes.”
Graham tilted his head back and laughed. “I’ve invited ye all here to watch my lovely wife kick my arse in archery practice.”
Clara gave a mocking gasp. “Why, Graham, you’ve never seen me shoot. I could have only been jesting about knowing what to do.”
“And I could have been jesting about being terrible.” He winked at her, a challenge in his grin that she matched.
They raced to pick up their bows, knocking their arrows and taking aim. They both hit the bullseye on the target, the first, second and third time. On the fourth shot, Clara knocked two arrows and hit not only her center target but his as well. That sent up a deafening cheer, and Cormac declared her the winner.
Graham lifted her into the air, swinging her around in a circle and pressed his lips to hers. “I told ye ye’d kick my arse.”
“Then ’tis a good thing we’re on the same team.” She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair the way she liked to do.
“Och, lass, there was never any other team I wanted to be on.” Graham rubbed his nose against hers and brushed his mouth on her soft lips.
“Aye, two heads are better than one, and I happen to love yours verra much.” She giggled with joy.
“I love ye too, with every inch of my being.”
Epilogue
One year later
The ship had finally arrived.
Clara caught sight of its sails first on the horizon, the flag emblazoned with her father’s crest. Many months of negotiating had finally seen them to this point—an agreement on her dowry.
When she’d first run off with Graham, her aunt had reported back to her mother and father that she’d been abducted and forced to wed a heathen. Of course, Clara and Graham had not known of her aunt’s treachery, considering Clara had left a note to her aunt saying exactly the opposite. But as deals went, she supposed her aunt was upset at whatever had failed to occur between the Ross clan and Prince John.
Several letters back and forth from Clara to her parents had finally convinced them that she’d wed with Graham Sutherland for love and purpose. That Baston Ross, now the leader of his clan, was an idiot, and that to have aligned with him would only have put them all on the wrong path.
Her mother was inclined to disagree, but her father, in one of his last acts on this earth, had been to send her his approval, along with the long-awaited promised dowry.
A ship to remain in Sutherland hands, filled with coin, horses, sheep, grain, and other precious commodities that would help keep the clan in good health and wealth for generations to come. And, best of all, her pets had been sent too! Clara was overjoyed to see the wee furry things that she’d missed for so long. Tingles of excitement coursed through her, and she couldn’t wait to feel them in her arms again.
To make matters happier, Cormac had even agreed that the dowry should remain in Graham’s line, rather than his own, though he was chieftain. A generous move on his part that showed just how much he respected his brother.
Clara ran a hand down her large, swollen belly, part of the generation of Sutherlands soon to come any day now.
Though she did fear the Rosses might attempt to retaliate at some point, the Sutherlands had gained much respect across the Highlands, garnering them allies from one coast to the next. If the Rosses tried to raise up arms, they’d have legions of warriors fighting them back. That allowed them some safety for now. Not even a single raid yet from those hated Rosses had yet to disturb their peace—though they anticipated that would change soon.
The Sutherlands had been thriving, too. Happiness and prosperity seemed to fill them all with glad hearts. She and Isolde had also become fast friends. Being here with Graham, his family and clan, Clara realized how lonely she’d been at home in Normandy. She and her father had been close, and he’d been her greatest ally. But with him gone now, she would have been truly alone if she’d remained. And likely already the part of another scheme.
“Ah,” Graham said, coming up beside her on the ramparts. “Ye’ve seen.”
Lord, but he was still just as handsome as ever. Dark hair mussed from the wind, that deliciously wicked dimple in his cheek, and a smile that had the power to melt ice.
“Aye.”
He kissed her gently on the lips and then bent to press a kiss to her belly. “How is our little warrior today?”
“She’s doing very well.”
They’d been teasing each other for months over whether the babe would be a lass or lad and come to the conclusion that they didn’t truly care, because no matter what, the babe would be theirs, and a symbol of their love.
Clara would have never guessed when she’d first sailed for England for the tournament where she was betrothed to a man she could neither love nor respect, t
hat she would meet a man who respected her and understood her, making up her whole world.
Graham Sutherland was a dream come true.
She leaned her head against his chest, wrapping her arms around his middle as far as her large belly would allow, and lifted up on tiptoe to press her lips to his. She’d been right, too, when she guessed that kissing him would never grow old, for every time she did, a spark of desire, of love, tingled its way through her entire body.
“I am the luckiest woman in the world.”
“Och, Phoenix, ye have merely achieved all ye set your mind to.” He wiggled his brows and tossed her a mischievous wink.
Clara giggled. “Achievements only realized with the aid of my trusty Shield.”
They laughed and kissed, and then headed down the rampart stairs to greet the ship, her father’s men, four hounds, two sheep, three pet rabbits, a squirrel, two cats, and her entire koi pond that had been put into water-filled barrels for the voyage.
Aye, life was a blessing.
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Be sure to get to the next book in the Midsummer Knights multi-author Tournament World Series!
Next up is Lori Ann Bailey’s — The Highland Knight’s Revenge!
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