by Jarecki, Amy
“You truly love me?”
“I love you more than anything. More than my home, more than the air I breathe. I would lay down my life for you, mo ghràidh, and I will live the rest of my days proving my love.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled out the ring. “Please honor me by agreeing to be my wife.”
A gasp caught in the back of her throat as she touched her fingers to her lips. “You are aware, everything I did was for you. I’ve known I wanted you since you rescued me from Tupps. And since the day we danced alone in the ballroom, I’ve known you loved me, too. I just needed to find a way to make you realize we were meant to be wed.”
He grinned. God bless her, she could forgive. “Sometimes a MacKenzie can be a bit thickheaded, but once we’ve made up our minds, we’re difficult to sway.”
“Yes, in so very many ways.”
He slid the ring onto her finger. “Then will you do me the honor of marrying this rugged Highlander?”
She nodded in rapid succession. “I will.”
Standing, he pulled her into his arms and twirled her across the floor. Her laughter rang out like angel’s bells, the happiest sound he’d ever heard. Gently placing her on his feet, he kissed her, lovingly and tenderly. “You’ve made me the happiest man in all of Christendom.”
Her face shone like an angel, casting a glow around her. “I was so angry and now I cannot believe the joy bubbling throughout my insides. I feel as though I could burst.”
He cupped her face between his hands. “What you said about being with child…could it be true?”
Her brow creased with worry lines. “Honestly, I’m not sure. So many things have happened, I fear I have lost track.”
“Then we must wed straightaway to avoid a scandal.”
“I would marry you this instant if I could.”
“Two days hence all the clans will arrive for the gathering. Let us wed in the chapel before the feast, and then we can announce our nuptials to all.”
“A quiet wedding?”
“Does that meet with your approval?”
“Oh yes, I don’t know what I’d do if I had to walk down the aisle with hundreds of people staring.”
“You would look beautiful, and everyone would adore you.”
“There’s only one person I want to adore me.”
He pulled her into his arms and savored the warmth of her body as it molded to his in a perfect match.
* * *
Audrey’s head swam. How could she go from the depths of melancholy to the height of elation in the course of an hour? Too many things had happened for her to think beyond the man in her arms.
He smoothed the rough pads of his fingers along her jaw while long lashes shuttered his eyes. Heat spiked deep and low as his lips neared. Capturing her mouth, a low moan rumbled from his chest. Accepting him, he stroked her tongue languidly.
Sweet kisses caressed her neck.
Closing her eyes, Audrey rubbed against him, the intensity of her need growing. “There are so many people below stairs,” she said breathlessly.
“What about them?” he growled.
“Are they not waiting for you?”
“Let them wait.” He gathered her in his arms and grinned like a devilish rogue. “I aim to prove my love so there’s no question in your mind of how much I adore you.”
He set her down beside the bed and took his time, first slowly unlacing the front of her kirtle and sending it to the floorboards around her ankles. Then he bade her to turn and unlaced every eyelet of her stays. As she stood in her shift, his hands slipped around and cupped her breasts while he rubbed himself against her buttocks. “Do you want me?”
The insides of her thighs quivered. “Yes.”
Slowly, he drew up her shift and stroked a finger over her sensitive flesh.
Sighing, she rested her head against his chest. “Yes, yes, yes.”
His kilt dropped to the floorboards around their feet, followed by his shirt.
Audrey started to turn, but he held her shoulders. “Stay.”
As she nodded, he drew her shift over her head. “Spread your legs for me, lass.”
His heart pounded against her back as he circled a finger around the tip of her breast, while he slipped himself where she craved him most.
“Mm,” Audrey whimpered.
“I want to make love to you all afternoon.”
She chuckled and faced him, scooting onto the bed. “Over and over again?”
“Aye.” He climbed over her.
Stretching her arms around him, Audrey made love to her Highland earl. The first time fast as if they were running a footrace, fanning flames until they reached the pinnacle of passion. The second time, they entwined their bodies in a slow burn of exploration, taking them to new heights of desire.
Completely satisfied, they lay in each other’s arms, comforted in a cocoon of intimacy meant only for them.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It was a blessing to have Lady Magdalen at Brahan to help Audrey prepare. For two days all she’d done was float on air with her head so benumbed, it felt full of wool. Audrey Kennet was to be married without a long courtship or a long engagement. And she couldn’t be happier.
Since his capture she had been so intent on helping Reid to clear his name, Audrey hadn’t allowed herself to think much about the future. Things had been incredibly dire, and planning a wedding had been the furthest thing from her mind. But now she would be wed this day. And by the grace of God, she would marry the one man who had captured her heart.
Though there hadn’t been much time, they’d found chests filled with exquisite gowns left by Reid’s mother. Audrey chose a silk of silvery blue, and after a few alterations by the local tailor, the gown fit as if it had been made for her. To finish off perfection, they added a train of ivory lace to the back including a matching veil.
Audrey held on to the bedpost while the chambermaid finished lacing her gown. The marchioness stood back, supervising with a critical eye. “You are ever so bonny, the earl is a fortunate man, he is.” Her ladyship dismissed the servant with a flick of her fingers. “Please leave us.”
Barely able to take in a deep breath, Audrey moved to the looking glass and regarded her reflection. There she stood, Talcotts greatest wallflower in full bloom. But she’d no longer be hiding against the wall. She would be a countess, sitting beside her husband in the center of the hall for all to see, and she’d never been so filled with happiness in her life. Perhaps she wasn’t shy after all. She’d just needed a brawny Highlander to draw out the courage hidden deep in her soul.
Maddie ducked into the garderobe and came out with a posy. “Aiden and I went for a wee stroll this morn and picked these fresh.”
“Bluebells?” Audrey accepted the bouquet, adorned with ribbons of lace and satin. “They’re perfect.”
Maddie stepped back and clasped her hands. “I must say the flowers complement your gown ideally. And they bring out the color of your eyes.”
Audrey skimmed her teeth over her lip. “Do you think so?”
“I ken it.”
“I am infinitely grateful to have you here.”
A knock came at the door. “Are you and Miss Kennet ready, lady wife?”
Audrey looked to her friend excitedly and smiled. “By the end of this day I shan’t be referred to thus again.”
“Nay, and you must become accustomed with the servants calling you ‘my lady.’”
Audrey drew a hand over her heart. “Oh, my. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Och aye, you will be the Countess of Seaforth before this day’s end.”
Lord Tullibardine cleared his throat from the passageway.
“We’re coming, my dearest,” said Maddie, taking Audrey by the elbow and ushering her out the door.
The chapel was at the rear of the castle on the second floor, but if it weren’t for the marquis, Audrey would have been lost in the maze. But now they stood outside closed doors while a gentle hum of voices
carried through the timbers.
When the steward opened the double doors, Audrey’s stomach flitted with a frenzy of butterflies. The guests stood and turned her way. She knew a few, Dunn, Lord Saltoun, and even the Earl of Cromartie was in attendance, though he was the only person not smiling. The chapel was filled with clan chieftains and their ladies who had arrived the night before, and who were all dressed in Highland finery. But the finest-looking man in the entire hall was standing in front of the altar.
Reid MacKenzie, the Earl of Seaforth, regarded her with a wide grin, his eyes shining as if they were filled with candlelight.
Lord Tullibardine offered his elbow. “Are you ready, miss?”
“Indeed I am.”
Audrey didn’t remember much about walking down the aisle on the marquis’s arm. But she would never forget taking the hands of the man she loved and gazing up at his handsome face while the priest chanted the Catholic ceremony—Papa would have been ever so proud. Though the father could have recited the twenty-third psalm, for all Audrey knew. She was standing before God beside the man she loved, and no words could express the love she had in her heart or the extent of her promise to cherish him for the rest of her days.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Reid almost regretted having a Highland gathering on the day of his wedding. He wanted his bride to himself. Even an earl was entitled to be selfish on a day like today. And when Audrey appeared at the rear of the chapel looking more radiant than a queen, so many emotions coursed through him—to protect her, to succor her, to provide for her, and most of all, to love her.
He stood before God and declared his undying love, making a promise to the woman of his dreams to honor his vows until he took his dying breath. He would love her, cherish her, and place her at the pinnacle of his life forever.
Now they sat side by side at the high table as Lord and Lady Seaforth, presiding over the feast. Reid’s chest swelled. Every man in the hall looked to him with admiration. He’d not only married the bonniest lass in Britain, not a soul doubted her bravery or her loyalty to the cause. They’d all heard the tale of how she’d joined in the fight against the government troops and had struck the blow that had made Wagner Tupps fall on his knife and meet the devil.
Making the introductions was like reading from a scroll of the most influential men in the Highlands: the Duke of Gordon and his wife, Lady Akira. Of course, Audrey knew Lord and Lady Tullibardine. The Baronet and Baronetess of Sleat; Ewen Cameron, the chieftain of Clan Cameron; Hugh and Charlotte MacIain, survivors of Glencoe; and the list went on.
When at last the steward finished announcing the guests, Reid stood and raised his glass. “Welcome, my esteemed guests. I hope you’ve enjoyed your day of rest, for on the morrow there shall be tests of skill and brawn as we hold the games to determine the strongest, the fastest, and the most accurate with a musket. Sláinte, my friends!”
“Sláinte!” everyone bellowed in unison, including Lady Audrey.
The Marquis of Tullibardine stood, tapping his spoon to his glass. “Allow me to make a toast to the honorable couple.” He grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “It seems my wee cottage in the Atholl Forest has a certain charm with young lovers.”
Under the table, Reid grasped his wife’s hand and squeezed, whispering, “I’d have to agree with him there.”
Tullibardine gave a regal bow. “May I take some credit upon this joyful occasion?”
“You may.”
“The lass never would have arrived on the River Conon if it weren’t for my wee boat,” added Lord Saltoun.
Audrey squeezed Reid’s hand in return. “Very true.”
The marquis frowned at the Fraser baron; clearly he wasn’t yet ready to give up the floor. Clearing his throat, he raised his glass higher. “I wish you the bounty of the earth, the favor of our Lord. May sunshine brighten your home, may your crops yield abundant fare, and may your children be healthy young bairns to bring you pride and unabashed happiness.”
Raising his glass, Reid grinned at the faces across the table. “Sláinte!” he repeated as the hall erupted with cheers.
In the entryway, Dunn caught his eye, waving his thumb over his shoulder. Reid gave a nod and held up his palms. “Friends, I have a gift for my bride.”
Beside him, Audrey gasped. “My lord?”
After giving Dunn a nod, he grasped her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I want Brahan Castle to be as much your home as Coxhoe House.”
“I am quite certain—” Stopping mid-sentence, Audrey’s mouth dropped open as she drew her fingers over her lips.
“I did not forget, lass,” he whispered in her ear.
Happiness danced in her eyes as she regarded him. “May I?”
“If you didn’t, I’d be crestfallen.” He gestured to the harpsichord Dunn and the men wheeled inside.
Audrey gave him a shy cringe. “’Tis not presumptuous of me to play amongst so many?”
“This is Scotland,” said the Duke of Gordon. “Highlanders appreciate fine talent.”
Reid took her hand and escorted her to the new instrument he’d sent Dunn to fetch from Inverness the day before. Audrey ran her fingers over the inlaid wood lovingly. He lifted the top and propped it up. “I haven’t any scores of music for you as of yet.”
She took a seat on the stool with a smile. “Not to worry. Most of it is in my head.”
“Then do me proud, wife.” Reid stood back while Audrey began Pachelbel’s canon in D, a melody he knew she could play in her sleep—for at Coxhoe House he often awoke to that very tune. As the notes resounded from the harpsichord, the hall fell completely silent. All eyes focused on Audrey. An aura of mastery captured their hearts as she lovingly struck the keys.
When she finished, the final chord made a shiver course up his spine as it gradually faded. His wife shifted her gaze to Reid while the silence continued. The corner of her mouth turned down as if she thought her performance might have been anything other than magnificent.
With his next breath the hall erupted in thundering applause.
Reid offered his hand. “My lady.”
“Did you like it?”
He walked her in a circle, egging on the crowd for more. “‘Like’ doesn’t even come close to describing how much I enjoyed watching you play.”
She curtsied before they started back for the dais. “’Tis such a relief. Now I can play with the orchestra whilst the others are dancing.”
Reid squeezed her hand and stopped. “Nay. I want to dance with my wife.”
A look of panic crossed her face. “But you said I wouldn’t have to dance again if I was mortified and averse.”
“That was after three lessons, and you’ve only had one.” He knit his brows as Cluny slid between them and shoved his enormous head under her palm.
She gave him a pat. “You wouldn’t make me dance, would you, big fellow?”
Reid pointed to the hearth. “Back to your rug, you oversize hound.” The dog dipped his tail between his legs and obeyed.
Audrey’s mouth twisted. “I think Cluny would enjoy dancing more than I.”
He took her hands. “Let us make a truce. I bought you the harpsichord, and you will dance with me at gatherings.”
“Can I wear a shocking red gown?”
“You can wear anything you please as long as you are on my arm.”
“Very well then, but you’d better wrap some lamb’s wool around your toes.”
“I’m certain that won’t be necessary.”
With that, the piper and the fiddler took their places. Audrey might object to minuets, but Reid had no doubt she’d take well to lively Highland reels. Much like a country dance, Highland dances were pleasurable and raucous with lots of clapping.
And when he led her to the line, she didn’t disappoint. Laughing, she danced like Lady Ne’er-Do-Well. All the while she swung on Reid’s arm, though he doubted the lass missed a single step.
Epilogue
Six months later
It was late winter when Audrey awoke beside her husband at Coxhoe House. Snow shrouded the bedchamber window, and she pulled the coverlet up over her shoulders. Beside her, Reid slumbered, facing her on his side. She could never grow tired of watching him, be it in slumber or awake. He was bold and brawny and ever so handsome, and moreover, he was hers.
She grinned as she rolled over and spooned her body into his. Reid emitted a wee moan, surrounding her with his arm as if he wasn’t yet ready to wake.
They had decided to winter at Coxhoe House where the season wasn’t as harsh. That also gave Reid an opportunity to meet with Mr. Poole, who had been promoted to governor of the mine. The man had proved honest and hardworking, and ran the business with a good mind for enterprise.
They’d received word from the magistrate in Inverness that Bainbridge Fry had been found guilty of excessive treachery. He was stripped of his rank and shipped to the Americas to serve time in a prison farm. Audrey accepted his punishment, though she felt it a bit lenient. Reid’s back would always bear the signs of that man’s savagery.
Behind her, Reid nuzzled into her hair and hummed. “I like waking up beside you, lady wife. You always smell like a garden of lavender.”
Giggling, she took his hand and held it against her growing belly. “Your son is restless this day.”
“Aye?” He held very still.
A thump kicked her womb.
Reid gasped. “Was that he?”
“Yes.” She smiled, overcome with the wonder of the child growing inside her.
“He’s a fighter, that one.”
Audrey nestled against him. “It could be a girl.”
“Aye.” His kisses fluttered along the arc of her neck. “Be it lad or lass, we shall love the bairn. For it will be half you and half me, and shall be the beginning of our legacy.”
Author’s Note
Thank you for joining me for The Highland Guardian. This story was formed around William MacKenzie, 5th Earl of Seaforth, and his wife, Mary Kennet, who was the only child and heiress of Nicholas Kennet, a prominent businessman from Coxhoe. Though the story of their meeting and romance is fictional, I found the architecture research for this book amazing. The manor Coxhoe Hall was once considered one of the finest houses in County Durham. It came into the possession of the Kennet family through marriage in the seventeenth century and was set high on a south-facing hillside adjacent to the site of Coxhoe medieval village. A tree-lined avenue led to the manor, and it was surrounded by grounds with terraces, and a walled garden. Interestingly, poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning was born there in 1806. The Earl of Seaforth and his countess did use Coxhoe as their winter estate. The manor fell into disrepair in the twentieth century and was demolished in 1956.