by Gwyn Brodie
His friend chuckled. "I cannae say I'm surprised, as I realized some time ago you were in love with her."
Alex snorted. "I'd thought I was, but the real truth of it hit me square between the eyes when she informed me she was planning to leave Blackstone as soon as she's physically able. There's no way I can allow her to go."
"Thus, the hurry to make her your wife. When do you plan on marrying her? 'Twill be spring before Father MacTavish passes this way again."
Alex frowned. "We must wed as soon as possible—to keep her safe. Once Ceana and I are husband and wife, she'll belong to my clan, not the MacGregors."
"I understand what you're saying, but you've not answered my question. How do you plan to wed the lass?"
Alex grinned. "The way my grandparents and their parents did."
Realization dawned on Drostan. "A handfasting ceremony."
"Aye, and the sooner the better.
Chapter Ten
The following morning, Ceana rose from the bed and slowly walked across the room, then looked at Flora and smiled. Some soreness and numbness lingered, which she hoped would disappear with time.
The maid clapped her hands together. "Ye're walking better every day, m'lady. The laird will be most pleased."
"Aye, he will at that." She was happy to be walking again, but she would sorely miss being in Alex's arms, and getting better meant she would be leaving him soon. Her throat tightened, and she blinked back a tear.
With Flora's help, she was soon dressed in a wool gown of dark green. Any minute, Alex would be there to take her down to break her fast, but this time, she would walk there on his arm.
Once her hair was brushed, Ceana tucked a curl behind her ear, noticing how her hand trembled. What if once Alex learned she could walk, he no longer made a point of coming to her bedchamber to escort her to the high table? Of course, he was the Laird of Blackstone and had more important things to do than see to her. Perhaps she had been keeping him from doing them. She drew in a deep breath, and slowly exhaled to steady herself.
A knock sounded, and her heart pounded against her chest. She quickly returned to the bed and sat down, before motioning Flora to open the door.
"Good morn, m'laird," the maid said, curtsying.
"Morn, Flora." He smiled as he made his way across the room to where Ceana waited. "I hope you're hungry, lass, for I'm starving."
She chuckled. "Aye, but first, there's something I wish to show you."
"What is it?" he asked, coming to a stop a few feet away.
Slowly, Ceana rose from the bed and took a step toward him, then another, and another, until she stood directly in front of him. She had known all along he was a tall man, but had not, until then, realized just how tall.
A broad grin spread across his handsome face, just before he swept her up into his arms and spun around the room. "I cannae believe it, lass. You're walking! How long?"
She relished the feeling of being held against his hard chest. "Only a few days. I didnae wish you to ken until I could cross the room on my own."
He snorted. "And I can see that you can. Are you ready to break your fast?"
"Aye."
He headed for the door, with Ceana still in his arms.
"Alex?"
"Aye?"
"I can walk, albeit a bit unsteadily."
He frowned. "Are you certain you're ready to walk the distance to the great hall, lass?"
She blew out a breath. "Nay, I'm not certain, but I'll not ken until I try."
Alex nodded and gently set her on her feet, then drew her arm through his. "I'll be right here beside you, should you need me."
Tears welled in Ceana's eyes, and she nodded. He had become her pillar of strength, not only physically, but emotionally, as well.
"We'll take our time."
She chuckled. "I'm not certain I could move any faster, even if I had to."
He smiled down at her, and her heart lurched as it always did.
Midway down the stairs, Ceana's legs began to weaken, but she kept it to herself. When she reached the bottom, they buckled. But before she hit to the floor, Alex caught her up in his arms.
His dark eyes gazed into hers. "I told you I'd be here if you needed me," he said softly.
Breathless, more from his words than exertion, all she could manage was a nod. As he carried her across the great hall and to the high table, Ceana could not imagine her life without him, and her chest constricted at the thought of having to move on and leave him behind.
Alex gently placed her on the chair beside him, smiling down at her as he took his own seat.
"I am getting better," she declared, washing and drying her hands, before tearing off a chunk of bread and taking a slice of cheese from the platter in front of her.
He nodded. "Aye, you are at that, lass. But you must realize, 'twill take time, and I dinnae mind carrying you in the least," he said, grinning.
The pit of her stomach tightened. Did she dare to believe Alex cared for her in the same way she cared for him? But what would it matter if he did? She had to go—for his sake, if not her own. Fighting back tears, she filled her porridge with butter and honey and began to eat.
Drostan took his seat at the table, looking more than a bit ragged around the edges, and smelling like a cross between horse dung and whisky.
Ceana quickly raised her goblet of spiced wine to her mouth, hoping it would diminish the odor.
Alex frowned. "What happened to you?"
He raked his fingers through his long hair. "Morn, lass," he said, washing the dark grime from his hands.
"Morn, Drostan." She shoved the platter of bread across the table in his direction, while trying not to breathe in too deeply.
He took a chunk and dipped it in his porridge. "If you must ken, my friend, I had a bit too much to drink last night and woke up in the stables this morn."
Alex wrinkled his nose. "Och, that's what I smell. Have the servants prepare you a bath as soon as you finish breaking your fast."
Drostan nodded, then turned his attention to his food.
As they did every morning, Alex and Ceana discussed how the new colts were faring, the latest mischief of the wolfhounds, and how much Cree had calmed since his arrival at Blackstone, plus a multitude of other things that would have been mundane and uninteresting to the other women he had known. He loved being with Ceana and could not imagine his life any other way. Everyone in the castle loved her. She would fit the role of Lady MacPherson perfectly, both for Blackstone—and his bed.
Alex glanced sideways at her, noting the pinkness of her full lips, and ached to have his mouth on hers, as he had the night before. Perhaps once he had her alone she would grant him another of her passionate kisses. "Ceana, once we finish eating, I'd like to speak with you in the library."
"Of course," she said, drizzling more honey over her porridge, and a chunk of buttered bread.
He went back to his meal, praying she would agree to be his wife. He fought back the doubt that ate at him, but one question kept raising its ugly head. What would he do if she refused him?
Once the meal ended, Alex carried her from the great hall and into the library, kicking the door closed behind him. He gently lowered her onto the settle beside the fire. "Are you warm enough, lass? If not, I'll be more than happy to fetch your cloak."
She smiled, wondering what he was about. "I'm fine, Alex. Please, sit down." She patted the place beside her. "You wish to speak with me?" He seemed edgy, not himself at all, which made her a bit wary of what he was about to say.
He took a seat beside her and took her hands in his. "Ceana, I've something to ask you."
"Aye?" She tensed, as she waited for him to speak.
He blew out a breath. "Since your arrival at Blackstone, I've come to care for you a great deal. The truth of the matter is, I've fallen in love with you, and wish to have you as my wife. Will you do me that honor?"
He loved her! Her heart danced in her chest, as his handsome face blurre
d before her eyes. She wanted naught more than to be Alex's wife, but it could never be. She shook her head. "Nay, I cannae," she cried, tugging her hands from his, and wiping away her tears.
"Is there someone else? Are you betrothed?" He looked so tormented it nigh broke Ceana's heart.
She lowered her gaze to the floor. "Nay, there is no one," but you, she said, shaking her head.
He sighed loudly, then got up from the settle. "I dinnae understand. If there's no one else, then why will you not marry me? Do you not think I deserve an answer?"
Aye. After everything he had done for her, he deserved naught less. "Because I'm a MacGregor, and I'll not bring danger down upon you."
"I told you last night, I care not if you're a MacGregor. Tell me, Ceana, do you love me?" he asked softly.
She nodded. "Aye, with all my heart." And she truly did.
"Well then, you love me, and I love you. That's all that matters."
"If only it were that simple, Alex, to forget that I'm a MacGregor, that my parents were murdered for simply being who they were, to forget that there are those who want me dead for naught more than bearing a name. How could I wed you knowing that if I do, they'll want you dead too?"
He returned to her side, cupped her chin in his warm hand and tilted her face up to his. "Listen to me, lass. 'Tis of no concern to me if you're a MacGregor. All I ken is you're a kind, gentle, and beautiful young woman with whom I've fallen deeply in love, and wish to have as my wife."
Ceana fought back her tears. "But what of your safety, and that of the other people of Blackstone? If Lyall Campbell learns I'm here, he might very well attack, and many people will die..." She closed her eyes, and tears spilled down her face. "And let us not forget how much the king despises the MacGregors—enough to see them all dead, as well as those who protect them, as you would be protecting me."
It tore his heart out to see her in such agony. He gently pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. "Dinna fash, lass. All will be well," he promised, hoping to still her fears, at least for a time.
"I pray you're right."
And so did he.
"You never told me how you found out about Teineaer. Or that I was a MacGregor."
He rose from the settle and poured them each a dram of whisky, thinking it might serve to steady her nerves. "'Twas clear from the beginning, the wolfhounds were yours. In fact, if not for them, we'd not have found you in time. They bayed at the door until we took them out into the bailey, there they whimpered and clawed the bars of the portcullis until they were released. They raced off, and we heard them no more. At first, I wondered if they'd been taken down by an archer, but decided to take some men and find out. Then I found you, and my life has never been the same."
She smiled, giving him hope she would change her mind. "Go on, please."
"I'm afraid curiosity got the best of me, and I sent Drostan to confer with the hawker in Argyll, where I purchased the animals. The man told him he'd gotten them from a Campbell. Later, Drostan overhead of the attack on Teineaer Castle, and that a MacGregor laird and his lady had been killed, along with a great many others. Then the pieces began to fit together, but not completely—until I overheard you talking to Art Grant, whom Hugh informed me is most likely your uncle. Was he correct?"
"Aye. Art is my father's younger brother, Artagan MacGregor, my closest living relative. He was the Laird of Glenmure Castle until the Campbells set fire to it, and the lands granted them by the king. I wasnae lying to you. I didnae ken who he was—until he told me. When I rode into his camp, it'd been many years since I last saw him, and I was unable to recognize him. Please, dinnae send him away. He was only protecting me."
He smiled. "I've no intention of sending anyone away. But I still wish you to marry me."
"How could you, after I've kept the truth from you all this time?"
"You had good reason, Ceana."
"But what of your safety? I cannae risk you, or anyone else at Blackstone getting hurt or killed on my account. What if Lyall Campbell comes after me? I fear the king will come down hard upon you, once he learns you wish to wed a MacGregor."
"You let me fash about all that." He gently pulled her to her feet, then drew her into his arms, kissing her until she was giddy.
Alex reluctantly took his mouth away and propped his chin on the top of her head. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "I ask you again, Ceana MacGregor, will you marry me?"
She blew out a long breath. "Aye, I'll marry you, for I dinnae think I could live without you."
"Thank the saints," he shouted, lifting her in his arms and twirling around the room.
Her laughter lifted his heart skyward, and his soul soared even higher.
He put her down on the window seat, enjoying the pinkness of her cheeks and the joy in her expressive brown eyes. "Father McTavish willnae arrive until spring, and I dinnae think I can wait that long to have you, plus for your safety, I want us to wed as soon as possible."
She shyly dropped her gaze to her lap, her innocence endearing her to him even more.
"I suggest an old-fashioned handfasting if you have no objection."
"If I agree to the ceremony, might we have a wedding in the kirk, with Father McTavish presiding, come spring?"
He chuckled. "I'll make you my wife as many times as you wish." He was not above agreeing to anything to please the woman he loved more than life itself.
A smile lit up her lovely features, making his answer all the more worthwhile.
He grinned. "Then 'tis settled. The Yule season marks the beginning of a new year, and our union will mark the beginning of a new life for both of us. 'Twould be fitting to have the ceremony then."
Her dark eyes sparkled with excitement. "Aye. The Yule log, evergreens, and winter berries will make wonderful decorations, as well."
"And a grand feast to celebrate both momentous occasions."
He lifted her into his arms. "I'll return you to your bedchamber, then see to the arrangements." He gently kissed Ceana, then looked down at her. "You've made me a happy man, lass."
She pressed her hand against his cheek. "I hope you dinnae one day come to regret asking me to become your wife."
He shook his head. "Never. While I was at Teineaer, I took the liberty of bringing your things back here with me. I thought you might wish to have your own clothing."
"That was most kind of you. But where are they?"
"By now, they should be in your bedchamber. I had them taken up while we were breaking our fast. Your mare, Renny, is out in the stables, as well."
She narrowed her eyes. "You must have been quite convinced I would agree to your marriage proposal," she teased.
"Perhaps I was, or at the very least it was wishful thinking. Are you ready to return to your bedchamber?"
"Aye, I'd like to see what you brought back with you, but I wish to visit with the horses later if you dinnae mind. It's been some time since I've seen Renny."
He kissed her on the tip of the nose. "Nay, I dinnae mind at all."
Once they were inside the bedchamber, he set her on her feet, and kissed her, savoring the sensuousness of her full lips, and reveling in the fact she would soon be his in both body and soul. And he could hardly wait, for his need for her was great.
When Alex's mouth moved to the hollow of her throat, Ceana closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and softly moaned.
"I love you, lass," he whispered, his breath sending chills across her heated skin. "Every beautiful inch of you."
She slid her fingers into his hair. "And I, you." Ceana could not imagine anything that might happen in the marriage bed making her feel any more wanton than she did right then.
He pressed his lips against the mound of her left breast, while his hand caressed the right.
"Alex, you make me feel so unbelievably—warm."
He chuckled against her skin. "Good."
The longer she stood there, the weaker her legs became. "I'm afraid I really must s
it down," she reluctantly said.
He scooped her up and placed her on the window seat. "I should've realized, but I become a bit daft where you're concerned." He bent down, and kissed her again, leaving her wanting more when he pulled away.
"Do you promise to kiss me like that for the rest of my days?"
He raised a brow. "That's one promise I'll have no trouble keeping, lass."
She laughed, then glanced over at her clothing, piled high upon the bed. Atop it, was the needlepoint she had been working on, the day the Campbells had attacked. It all suddenly came rushing over her like a flood, threatening to drown her in its wake. She choked on a sob.
"What is it, Ceana? You've gone pale."
She pointed as tears filled her eyes. "That was for my mother's birthday. I was working on it when we were attacked. 'Tis why I left the great hall before the others."
"I'm sorry it's upset you. Would you like me to take it away?"
"Nay. I wish to keep it. Would you mind reaching it to me?" She dried her eyes and took it from him. "'Twas a shock to see it here, but I'm glad you brought it."
He frowned. "Are you certain?"
She smiled. "All is well." She could not have Alex thinking he had upset her. 'Twas the memories that had.
"Then I'll leave you for now." After giving her a quick peck on the forehead, he left the bedchamber.
Ceana looked down at the needlework, then slowly ran her fingers over each stitch. She could not believe how much time had passed since the attack. Even so, the memory of her parents' deaths was still as vivid and painful as the day it had happened.
But today of all days, she would not allow herself to be unhappy, for Alex wanted to marry her, and still, she could not believe it. Of course, she was not daft, she had known all along he cared for her, but had not realized how much, until he said, I've fallen in love with you, and wish to have you as my wife. The memory of his words once again filled her with absolute and utter joy.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Aye?"
"'Tis I, m'lady," Flora called out from the corridor.
"Enter."
The maid hurried into the room. "The laird said yer clothing had arrived." She immediately went about putting Ceana's things away, then she looked over at her and stopped. "Ye cheeks are pink and yer smiling. I hope that means ye've changed ye mind about leaving Blackstone right away."