All in all, the clan’s progress pleased him. Furthermore, his second commander, Symon, returned that morn along with one of Calum’s wedding gifts to Arabella. Eager to inquire after another of his gifts, he set off for Elena’s cottage.
Cool, autumn air ruffled the hair at his nape as he strolled along the worn paths through the village. The season would soon turn, bringing with it harsh, biting winds and snowfall. At the thought of colder weather, he grinned. This year, he would have a wife to keep his toes, amongst other things, warm during those long, winter eves.
As he turned a corner and Elena’s cottage came into sight, he stopped in his tracks. He narrowed his gaze at his bride and sister, crouched beneath a window. Eavesdropping from the looks of it. Serves them right if he called the two out for prying.
Determined to surprise the women, he doubled back and slipped into the surrounding forest. He halted once more when he spotted Sean and Gavin leaning against a pair of trees. When the two men noticed him, they straightened and lifted a hand to their chests in acknowledgement.
He waved away the show and jerked a thumb toward Arabella and his sister. “What’re they doing?”
Gavin shrugged, while Sean muttered, “No notion, Laird.”
Calum chuckled. “Head back to the keep. I’ll see to the women for now.”
Without waiting for a reply, he moved through the wood until he was level with the cottage. Crouching low, he crept to the rear wall and slid around the corner to the side where the two women stooped.
Arabella paid no notice of his presence, but Mairi did. His sister’s eyes rounded and she pointed at him. Arabella peered over her shoulder and gasped in surprise, losing her balance and pitching forward. Before she toppled to the ground, Calum shot out his arm and pulled her back to rest against his bent knees. She awkwardly shifted to face him with a fierce glare, not in the least pleased to see him. A strangled feminine moan accompanied by a loud male shout pierced the silence, and the three of them froze in place.
He may be far more reserved than his cousin, but he recognized the sounds of coupling when he heard it. Confused, he tilted his head at Arabella, who lifted a finger to her lips, beseeching silence.
“Oh, Hammish.” Elena’s distinct voice drifted from the window, followed by Fraser’s muffled laugh.
Utterly astonished, Calum opened his mouth to spit out a curse, but Arabella dove at him and slapped her hands over his mouth. Caught off guard, he fell backward on his arse and she tipped forward with him, landing atop his chest in a heap.
He stared at her wide eyes and startled features hovering above him for several moments. The weight of her soft frame pressed against his chest and thighs stirred his manhood to life. Saints, she was beautiful. Suddenly, a sennight seemed a lifetime away.
A nudge at his shoulder grabbed his attention and he glanced right to find Mairi had crawled beside them. Frowning, she pointed toward the forest and lifted her brows, indicating they should leave.
Calum retraced his steps, shepherding the woman away from the cottage and toward the village.
Arabella searched the area. “Where are Sean and Gavin?”
“I sent them on their way. ’Tis good I did after what just happened back there. What the devil were the two of you doing?”
Arabella ducked her head, a deep blush staining her cheeks.
“We simply wished to speak with Elena.” Mairi flung her arm in the direction of the cottage. “We did not expect to hear that.”
“So why did you not leave?”
Arabella peeked up at him. “We did not know they were…”
Amused by her shyness, he teased her. “Were what?”
“You know…” She waved her hand as if to explain.
“I do not think I do. Mayhap you should tell me.”
“Blast, Calum.” Mairi huffed in irritation. “You know precisely what they were doing.”
He rumbled out a laugh and grasped Arabella’s hand. For a moment, he thought she might pull free when her gaze darted to his, but she offered a timid smile and twined her fingers through his.
Calum leaned closer. “There’s something I wish to show you.”
“What is it?” Her voice held a note of curiosity.
“You’ll have to see for yourself.” He chuckled at her pursed lips.
When the three of them entered the bailey, he immediately sought out Symon, who stood on the front steps of the keep. At Calum’s nod, his commander stepped backward and disappeared inside. Within moments, he remerged with the first of Calum’s wedding gifts.
A tall, aging warrior with a wiry, gray mane and matching beard stepped through the main doors, guiding a short, plump woman with graying-brown hair and ruddy cheeks. The man wrapped an arm securely around the female’s waist as they made their way down the steps.
As soon as Arabella spotted the pair, she halted in her tracks and her fingernails dug into Calum’s hand. For long moments, she simply stood rooted to the earth, her eyes rounded and mouth agape. To snap her from her stupor, he nudged her in the side, which had the desired effect.
She dropped his hand and dashed across the courtyard to launch herself into the pair’s waiting arms. “Maggie! Dougal! I feared I’d never see you again.”
Calum grinned at their warm reunion. Aye, he was mighty pleased with himself this day.
Once the three exchanged embraces and kisses on cheeks, Arabella stepped away from the couple and spun to face him. The sheer joy written across her features was all the thanks he required.
With a wide grin, she paced toward him until the two of them stood toe to toe. She raised her arm and crooked her finger, beckoning him closer. He ducked his head closer, expecting her to whisper in his ear, but his bold lass threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his mouth.
Stunned by her actions, Calum stilled and absorbed the press of her soft lips. Just as quick, desire replaced his surprise. He wrapped his arms tight around her waist, hoisted her up on her tiptoes, and returned the kiss with equal measure. Loud cheers rang out, and he realized they’d gained an audience.
Chuckling, he released her mouth and leaned his forehead against hers. “We’ve drawn a crowd, Sweetness.”
“This means so much, Calum.” Her fingers caressed his scarred cheek.
“I’d hoped you would be pleased.”
“Pleased? How can I ever thank you?” She stepped out of his arms and grabbed his hand. “Come, you must meet them.”
He moved to join her but a firm hand clamped on to his shoulder.
“Surely I’ve not missed the wedding?”
Calum spun around and came face to face with Patrick MacEwan. Nearly a year had passed since he’d last seen his ally and close friend. The sight of his amused face was a welcome sight.
“Patrick,” he exclaimed. He cuffed his friend’s shoulder, truly pleased with his presence. “’Tis good to see you.”
Patrick laughed and thumped him on the back. “’Tis good to see you, too, old friend.”
“Please,”—Calum stepped aside and lifted Arabella’s hand to Patrick—“Allow me to present my bride, Lady Arabella de Percy.”
Patrick’s grin slipped as he grasped her hand. “I’m truly sorry for the loss of your brother, my lady.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Arabella bowed her head.
“Please, call me Patrick. Calum did not mention he’d found such a stunning bride in his missive. ’Tis my pleasure to meet such a beauty.” He bent forward to place a lingering kiss on the back of her hand.
As quick as a bolt of lightning, jealousy flooded Calum at the sight of another man touching Arabella. Goaded by instinct, he snatched her hand away and tucked it beneath his arm.
Straightening, Patrick lifted his brow at the telling action, but Calum remained unmoved. Humor lit his friend’s dark eyes and a broad grin stretched his lips.
“Truly, I wish the both of you every happiness. May you be blessed with many fine, healthy bairns.”
The sinc
ere words thawed Calum’s annoyance. “Thank you, Patrick.”
The man stepped aside and flourished an arm toward a tall, lean older man garbed in brown, woolen robes. “As you can see, I’ve brought your priest.”
“Father MacKinley.” Calum nodded at the holy man. “We’re happy to welcome you.”
Arabella beamed a bright smile. “Thank you for coming, Father.”
“Please, come inside.” He motioned to the keep. “You must be famished from your travels.”
“Aye, a drink would serve me well. You have my thanks, Laird MacGregor.” Father MacKinley shuffled past and headed for the front steps.
A tug to his sleeve pulled Calum’s attention to Arabella. She stared up at him expectantly.
“I wish you to meet Maggie and Dougal now.”
Calum grinned at the note of exasperation in her voice. He grasped her hand and strode ahead until they stood before the pair.
Arabella beamed a brilliant smile at the older couple. “Maggie, Dougal, I’d like to present Laird Calum MacGregor. I’ve agreed to wed him in a sennight.”
Maggie gasped and clutched at her heart. The next instant, she yanked Arabella into a tight embrace. “Oh, ’tis such wonderful news. I’m so happy you’ve found yourself a fine-looking husband, lass.”
The two women squealed in delight, laughing as tears leaked from their eyes.
Calum exchanged a look with Dougal, who merely rolled his eyes.
He extended his hand to the older man. “You have my thanks for protecting Arabella. I’m proud to welcome you and your wife to our clan. Please know that you and Maggie will always have a place here with us.”
Dougal’s grin broadened. “My Maggie and I appreciate your kindness, Laird MacGregor. We’d be honored to join your clan. Arabella is much like a daughter to us.”
Someone nudged Calum and he peered over his shoulder to find Mairi, Liam, Patrick, and his first commander, Marcus, had closed in around them. Within moments, the group exchanged greetings.
He focused on Arabella as his kin and their new guests fell into idle chatter. She practically glowed with happiness as she spoke to Maggie and his sister, and he took pride in the fact ’twas of his doing. When she’d spoken of her worries for Maggie and Dougal, he sent Symon after the older couple. His second commander confessed it’d taken him days to track the pair. Dougal had wisely chosen a less traveled and distant path into the Highlands.
“Ah, Dougal and his lovely wife, Maggie!” Fraser’s booming voice cut through the chatter.
Heedless of the clan’s wide-eyed stares, Fraser and Elena moved through the assembled crowd to join their group near the front steps. Calum did not miss the glare Liam cut the older man.
“You’ve been away far too long, my old friends.” Fraser grabbed Dougal’s shoulder and squeezed. “’Tis good to have you home at last.”
“’Tis good to be home, Hammish.” Dougal cuffed Fraser’s arm. “I never expected the day would come when we’d see the lass married off.” Arabella gasped and Dougal grunted. “Do not get your feathers ruffled. Only stating the truth.”
“Dougal.” Maggie slapped the back of her hand against his middle, and he grabbed his stomach in mock pain. She grabbed Arabella’s hand. “What he means is, we’re pleased to know you’ll be well looked after, my girl.”
Elena added, “Trust me, ’tis equally satisfying to know this one’s found a worthy bride.” She waved her hand at Calum.
“I see the two of you have called a truce.” Liam’s biting tone cut off their laughter.
Fraser smiled at Elena and tightened his hold around her middle. He craned his neck to peer at Liam. “Your mother has agreed to become my bride.”
All sound in the courtyard faded into absolute silence.
Elena had to the good grace to blush, while Fraser beamed with satisfaction. Liam, on the other hand, looked ready to slay Fraser where he stood. Calum closely watched the two men, ready to intervene if necessary. He counted it a mercy Liam had not followed him to Elena’s cottage earlier.
Anger gleamed in Liam’s eyes. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
Fraser stiffened, but Elena placed a steadying hand on his chest before she stepped closer to Liam and reached a hand toward him.
“Please, there is much I must tell you, but ’tis not the time. Believe me when I say, this is my wish. All I ask is you’ll accept my decision. I love you both. Do not make me choose, Liam.”
For a few unsettling moments, Liam searched over his mother’s features, as if trying to divine the truth of her words. What he saw must’ve appeased him. Heaving a deep sigh, he relented and accepted her hand.
Elena wrapped her arms around him and rose on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
Liam kissed her forehead and tugged her behind him. He paced a step closer to Fraser.
Calum readied his stance, unsure of what his cousin might do. Liam surprised him by offering Fraser his hand.
Fraser reached to accept, but Liam lifted his arm away. “One condition.”
“Name it.” Fraser grunted.
“If you ever hurt my mother again, I’ll make her a widow.”
A smile bloomed on the older man’s face. “I’d expect no less, boy.”
Chapter Twenty
YET AGAIN, ARABELLA found herself captive in the solar. She sat in silence and gazed through the panes of glass to the training fields outside. Behind her, Mairi, Elena, Maggie and Heartha fretted over the final alterations to her wedding gown. Plucking at a loose thread on her sleeve, she released a trembling breath and swallowed a bout of unease.
On the morrow, she was set to wed the very same man who just slammed his opponent to the ground outside the window. Despite her willingness to marry Calum, her nervousness grew with each passing moment.
“Have you heard a thing we’ve said, Arabella?” Mairi nudged her shoulder and glanced outside the window. “Oh, ’tis no wonder.”
Maggie moved to Arabella’s opposite side and craned her neck to see. “With that view, I doubt I would’ve paid heed either.”
The group of women burst into laughter, and blood rushed to Arabella’s cheeks.
“Come along.” Mairi hauled her from her seat. “One last fitting and your dress is finished.”
Arabella rolled her eyes and allowed Mairi to lead her into the circle of the women. They made short work of the gown she wore, leaving her to stand in her shift. With the final frayed threads of her patience, she lifted her arms in obedience as they tugged the soft material over her head and laced the bindings along her sleeves and back.
’Twas unfair. Surely, Calum had not dealt with the same frustrations with his wedding garb. Honestly, why should her attire matter so much?
Elena stepped back and clapped her hands with glee. “Oh Heartha, ’tis beautiful. You’ve truly outdone yourself.”
Maggie and Mairi circled Arabella, examining the weaver’s work.
“Absolutely stunning,” Mairi said.
“Just lovely.” Maggie flashed Arabella an expectant grin. “Well, what do you think, lass?”
She glanced down at the gown and lifted the embroidered hem, rubbing the thick, emerald linen between her fingers. Bands of rich gold and silver threading ran along the hem and forearms, while soft pink silken sleeves touched the floor at her feet. Flowers, vines, ribbons, and pearls wound around the neck in an intricate display. A light leather belt embroidered in shimmering gold hung weightless at her hips.
In awe, she twisted left then right, struck by the perfect fit and flow of the dress. At once, she regretted her poor behavior since Heartha had toiled hard the past fortnight to create such a striking gown. The woman had truly worked a miracle.
“Oh, Heartha, ’tis lovely. How can I ever thank you?”
The weaver beamed with happiness. “I’m simply pleased you like it, my lady.”
“I love it.” Arabella rushed to the woman and wrapped her in a tight embrace. “Thank you.”
; Heartha clucked her tongue and released her. “Careful now. We do not need you full of wrinkles before the wedding.”
Mairi snorted. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of that afterward if Calum has his way.”
Arabella gaped at her friend as warmth spread over her face. The other women laughed as they untied the lacings and tugged the soft fabric over her head. Once dressed in her old gown, she retreated to a bench along the wall and slumped against the cool stone.
“We’ll place this in your chamber, then I’ll see that Florie draws you a bath.” Mairi grinned and helped Heartha carry the wedding gown from the solar.
When Maggie closed the door after the pair and shared a look with Elena, Arabella recognized the warning. Her stomach rolled into a tight ball as the two women seated themselves on either side of her. Saints help her. She knew what was to come, and ’twas not a discussion she wished to have with either woman.
“Now, love…” Maggie lifted her hand and offered a maternal pat. “There are things we must speak of before the wedding. Matters your lady mother would’ve explained if she were here. God rest her soul.”
Arabella cringed and slumped lower on the bench. Her face burned from mortification. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she might somehow block out Maggie’s next words.
“I know Iain tried to keep his and his men’s pursuits out of your reach.” Maggie tapped her knee.
If the woman only knew. Sneaking around Penswyck’s training grounds, she caught an eyeful on many occasions. Many of Iain’s men bore no false modesty. That much was sure. Although, she’d never quite understood what the serving girls mooned over.
Clearing her throat, she choked out, “I’ve seen one before.”
Elena darted her a startled glance. “You have?”
“What? When?” Straightening, Maggie scowled. “Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, if I had to guess.”
Unwilling to admit to wrongdoing, Arabella lowered her head and picked at her fingernail.
Reckless Scotland: A Scottish Medieval Romance Bundle Page 87