Highland Healer

by Willa Blair

  “Let them. We lack the ceremony, but are we no’ married, Aileana? Since the moment I claimed ye?”

  That gave her pause. “Is that what ye meant, back there in Angus’s camp? Are we married?”

  “Aye, we are. Ye told me that ye loved me, and that this is where ye wished to be. I told ye that I wished for ye to remain here with me. I offered a betrothal, if ye’ll recall, when ye were ready. But I neglected to tell ye the most important thing before our passions overtook us yesterday. I love ye, too, Aileana. I never want to lose ye again. I want ye beside me, always.”

  The look on Aileana’s face was a joy to behold.

  “Then I suppose we are, my laird. Married. A ceremony would be nice, but the churching can wait.”

  “We’ll do what ye wish, lass.” Toran’s satisfied smile teased her. “But for now, do ye ken where I’d like yer hand to be fasted at this moment?”

  “I believe I do,” Aileana answered with a wicked grin and began to trail her fingers down his throat.

  “Farther than that, lass.”

  Aileana moved her fingers onto his chest and filled them with the soft, dark hair she found there. Then she tugged.

  “Ach, lass, no’ there, and no’ like that.” Toran leaned over and kissed her on the mouth, then whispered against her ear, “Lower.”

  Aileana trailed her fingertips down his belly, following the line of hair that led even lower. She circled the indentation she found midway, and scratched lightly at the skin below it. Toran groaned.

  “Ye’re getting nearer,” he moaned as his thumb trailed over her mouth.

  Finally her questing fingers found the hard heat of his shaft. “Hmmm,” she murmured as she gripped him.

  With an oath, he collapsed back onto the pillows.

  “Have I found it then, this place you’d like my hand to be fasted?”

  “Lass, ye ken ye have. Come, let me love ye. ’Tis what we both want. What we both need. God, I thought I’d lost ye when ye ran from me.”

  Aileana smiled and leaned down to Toran’s lips. She stopped just shy of touching his mouth. “I do love you, Toran. And I’m sorry I ran from you. I should have known you didn’t mean those things you said.”

  “Ach, lass,” he murmured just before his mouth took hers. He lifted her onto his body, trapping her hand between them. She shifted her grip on him and heard him groan in response. His groans deepened every time she shifted her hand around him, stroking and feeling him grow even larger in her grip.

  “Ye’re driving me mad, woman,” he declared and Aileana reveled in the power of it. Then he sat up, lifting her with him so that she let go of his manhood. He moved her legs to each side, so that she knelt on the bed over him.

  Suddenly shy as he gazed at her, she crossed her arms over her breasts. Gently, he uncrossed them and placed her hands on his shoulders. Then he slid his hands down her sides as he bent to suckle at her nipples. Fierce fire ran from them straight to that place between her thighs, and liquid heat bathed it just as his fingers strayed between her legs to touch her…there. Aileana thought the pleasure could not get more intense, but it did as he stroked and explored every fold, then inserted one finger, then two, then three. Aileana arched in ecstacy as Toran’s fingers filled her and his thumb circled over her bright nub. Finally, the sizzle of sensation became too much and she came apart in his hands. He held her until the trembling abated, then lowered her hips until she was poised over his rock-hard shaft.

  “Gently, Aileana. Slowly and gently. Let yerself take me into yer body. It will be as before, but ye’ll control the pace. The depth. The pleasure.”

  There was that need again. The emptiness that cried out for Toran to fill it. She smiled as he nudged at her entrance and reveled in the sensation of his slick heat filling her as she settled onto him. A shiver ran through her as she tightened around him and sank a little lower, taking more of him in. She let her head fall back as he groaned, reveling in the throb of his pulse in her body. Only he could make her feel this ecstasy. With small movements, she slid lower onto him until she’d taken all of him inside her. “Oh, Toran, this is wonderful.” She sighed.

  “And about to get better,” he answered as he placed his hands on her hips and began to lift and lower her. She quickly caught the rythym and began to rock up and down on his length, nearly rising off him, then plunging down to take him to the hilt. As his groans filled her ears, Aileana felt her own pleasure spiraling out of control.

  “Now, Toran,” she breathed as she felt herself slipping over the edge into a bright maelstrom. “Now!”

  His moan of ecstacy and the furious heat of his seed erupting into her core were his only answers.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Toran and Aileana were wrapped in each other’s arms when the knock at the door came that Ailena had told Toran to expect. Elspie’s voice preceded her as the door swung open. “Lass, do no’ let our wee laird upset ye. Surely he didn’t mean what he said yesterday…oh!”

  Aileana had ducked under the covers, only her eyes and the top of her head peeking out, at the first knock. Toran, on the other hand, sat up, and was content to let the covers drape across his midsection.

  “Good morning, Elspie,” he said, smoothly, as Aileana blushed.

  “Laird! I dinna expect to find ye here…” Elspie trailed off, glancing from her laird to what she could see of Aileana and back again. “Well…”

  “We are well, indeed. Please send up some breakfast,” Toran replied, nonplussed. “I believe we’ll be here a while longer.”

  A sly grin split Elspie’s face and the skin around her eyes crinkled. “Aye, Laird. I’ll bring it myself.”

  “Good. Oh, and Elspie,” Toran continued as she turned to leave, “make sure ye knock and then hear me tell ye to enter before ye open the door from now on.”

  Aileana couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her at that pronouncement. Elspie blushed furiously and nodded, then left with haste.

  “Now, where were we?” Toran asked, pulling Aileana into his arms.

  “We were discussing what to do now that our secret is out and the tale is likely being told from one end of the keep to the other,” Aileana answered him archly. “I warned ye about Elspie.”

  “What better messenger, then…”

  “Save you?”

  Toran had the grace to look discomfited. “Aye, ye have the right of it, as usual. I suppose we should dress and go make the news known before Elspie gets word to everyone in the clan.”

  “Oh, I think we’re minutes too late for that, already.”

  “Then let’s have a handfasting ceremony today.”

  “Today? But…”

  “Aye. We agreed to it at Angus’s hideout, and now that we’ve bedded, we are married. And ’twould be more fitting for the laird to announce his marriage as soon after the event as possible. Rumors fly quickly. But would ye no’ like a ceremony?”

  “Not a large one, please, Toran.”

  “A small one then. Or we can wait for the priest and the kirk. I care not. I want ye by me forever. Starting today.”

  Toran smiled at the glint of tears in Aileana’s eyes. “Oh, aye, Toran. Forever. Starting today.”

  Toran’s heart was so full, it swelled to fill his chest. He could not believe how happy those six words had made him. She accepted him wanted him, and she wanted the ceremony to mark the occasion. “Who would ye like to bind us together, do ye think?”

  Aileana appeared to give that a moment’s thought. “Who better than Jamie?”

  “Aye, he would enjoy that.”

  “I think he would. And while ye’re about it, bring Senga, too. And Elspie would never forgive us if she missed this. She’ll so enjoy telling everyone about it.”

  “I’ll send Elspie to help ye dress while I gather the others.”

  “I love you, Toran.”

  “And I love ye, Aileana.”

  ****

  Aileana sat before the fire, brushing out her hair after her bath
. Elspie had gone to fetch a “special” dress for the handfasting. Ailieana wasn’t sure what significance a dress might have, especially since she had expressed a preference to wear her green kirtle. But Elspie had insisted, and Senga, the traitor, had sided with Elspie. Aileana supposed she could look it over and then politely decline to wear it if it were too awful. But she knew Elspie would have none of it and she’d wind up wearing whatever Elspie brought.

  Senga, too, had left to fetch some special oil that she guaranteed would drive a man wild. Not that Toran needed any help in that department. Nor did Aileana, when she was in his arms. But a laird took a wife only rarely, and they were doing this with little notice, simply and with no fanfare. Let them have their fun.

  Toran agreed to hold the ceremony in the privacy of his chambers. That was the way she wanted it: just between the two of them and their chosen witnesses. No one in the clan was more closely connected to both of them than Jamie; as Toran’s closest friend and the man whose life Aileana had saved, he would do the honors.

  But whenever a priest could get to the Aerie in the spring, Toran had promised her that they would hold another wedding the entire clan could attend in the small kirk outside the keep. Toran was quite certain that the invaders would be gone from their glen long before then. Aileana hoped he would be proven correct. And that Ranald would find a means to slip away and join her here before that happened.

  Aileana regretted that her brother could not be here to see this.

  Simple Aileana, healer’s apprentice, becoming the lady of a Highland clan. True, a small one, and one under siege. But she hoped he would be happy for her, both in her chosen husband and in the new life that lay before her.

  Toran offered her what she’d longed for: a home, a family, stability, perhaps even respect, if not for her Talent, then for her position as lady.

  That was a bonus she’d never expected to reap. Or a burden. Time would tell. In the meantime, this fretting was getting her nowhere and Elspie would be back in a moment. Aileana stood and stretched. She went to the window and peered out, much as she had on her first night in this chamber. Wispy clouds scattered across an azure sky and a breeze stirred the limbs of the trees. It was a beautiful day. A beautiful day to marry a handsome laird.

  Elspie opened the door and came in carrying a large box. Senga, right on her heels, closed the door behind her and set a vial on the table by the bed while Elspie opened the box. Aileana watched with some amusement their well-orchestrated movements. They were going to see their laird married, and it was up to them to make sure the bride appeared before him as beautifully as a bride should.

  Then a flash of green within the box caught Aileana’s attention as Elspie peeled away layers of paper that had been wrapped around the dress to preserve it. Forest-green satin filled the box. Gently, Elspie pulled the dress free and shook it out, then held it up for Aileana’s inspection. Aileana’s breath caught in her throat and she reached out to touch the fabric, relishing the silky slip of it along her fingertips. Toran would not be able to resist this.

  “It’s beautiful. Who did it belong to?”

  “Toran’s mother. Though I dinna believe he’s ever seen it. Ye have her size, as I recall it. So we’ll try this on ye. It should fit.”

  And it did fit, like it had been made for her. As Elspie did up the buttons, Senga watched with a teary smile.

  “So beautiful ye are, lass. Our wee laird willna be able to resist ye.”

  “He hasna afore,” Elspie quipped, “so why should he start now?”

  Aileana blushed and the other women laughed.

  “Sit, lass, and let me fix yer hair,” Elspie ordered and produced several ivory combs set with small green gems from her pocket. It took only moments before Aileana’s auburn tresses were swept up and held in place, grass-green crystals glittering brightly on the ivory combs. Elspie left a few tendrils framing her face and gracing the nape of her neck.

  “There ye are, lass, a vision if I ever saw one.”

  Senga nodded. “I feel as if I’m to watch my own daughter marry. My heart’s all a-flutter in my chest.” She patted her thin bosom for effect.

  Aileana went to her and hugged her close, then turned and did the same to the startled Elspie. “Thank you both. You were right. This is a special occasion and it needs a special dress. I’m grateful for your care.”

  “Lass, we’re grateful that ye’re taking on our wee laird. He’s been mad for ye since the day he brought ye home. We hope ye’ll be happy together for the rest o’ yer lives.”

  Jamie chose that moment to knock on the door, open it and peer in. “Are ye ready, Healer?”

  “Aye, Jamie, we are,” Elspie answered for her. “And a good thing that the bride was dressed, too, before ye came barging in here.”

  “My apologies, ladies. But the groom is getting impatient, and ye ken what that means.”

  “Aye,” Senga snorted. “Grumping and growling and if he has to wait too long, cursing and swearing.”

  “We’re still at the grumping stage,” Jamie reported with a smile as the women filed out the door past him, “but moving quickly on to growling.”

  Aileana paused at his side and placed a hand on his face. Jamie jerked back from her touch. “None o’ that now, lassie. Ye need yer strength to deal with the laird today.”

  “I simply meant to thank you,” Aileana lied gently. “For seeing to us. I could think of none better than you.”

  “Thank ye, lass. Or should I say, Lady?”

  “In a few minutes, perhaps.”

  Jamie grinned. “Let’s get on with it, then. Yer laird awaits.”

  As she entered Toran’s suite, Aileana drew a startled breath at the same moment he did, and likely for the same reason. He looked magnificent, and she knew from Elspie and Senga that the fancy dress suited her. Toran wore resplendent full ceremonial dress as if born to it. The Lathan tartan and a gold pin topped a fine shirt with a frothy laced jabot. The torc he rarely wore at home rested against his neck, the gemstones gracing its ends catching the light. Black leather boots shined to a mirror surface covered his feet and lower legs. He had pulled his midnight hair back with a ribbon into a queue. Aileana thought he had never looked so deliciously handsome.

  And from the way he stared at her, his thoughts were trending in the same direction. Like he was the starving cat and she the cream. He looked so imposing that by rights, she should be terrified of him. But this was Toran, the man who loved her, who wanted to keep her by him forever—and a day. She gathered her courage, lifted her chin and approached him. He held out his hand to her.

  “My God, lass, ye’re a vision.”

  “You’re in no danger of scaring the children either, milord.”

  Toran chucked and pulled her close for a kiss.

  “Ach, none o’ that,” Jamie said, his voice cutting between them like a board blocking her way. “No’ until after the ceremony.”

  Aileana turned to regard him with a smile and a raised eyebrow. His laird may have been grumping and growling, but Jamie clearly had no fear of him.

  “Let’s get on with it, then,” Toran commanded, and settled Aileana by his side. Elspie and Senga took up their positions on either side of Jamie.

  “Ye will first sign the Clan Lathan’s Book of Protocol to record this event.”

  “Not a Bible?” Aileana asked.

  “There is one,” Toran told her, “and ye’ll sign that when the priest marries us in the kirk. The clan’s Book of Protocol is how we’ll record today.”

  When they’d affixed their signatures in the heavy volume of bound vellum, Jamie cleared his throat and began.

  “I have here the dress tartan of Clan Lathan,” Jamie said for Aileana’s benefit and picked up a slender length of woolen cloth whose colors were brighter and more distinct that the tartan plaid Toran had worn in the MacAnalen camp, but matched what he wore today. “Laird, yer hand if ye please.”

  Toran extended his right hand and Jamie tied a length
of the tartan around his wrist. For a moment, Aileana was reminded of the damage he’d done there trying to escape leather bindings, but she blinked the vision away. This was not the same thing at all. This binding, he welcomed.

  “Repeat after me,” Jamie instructed, his attention fully on his laird. “I, Toran Lathan MacLathan…”

  “I, Toran Lathan MacLathan…”

  “…take ye, Aileana Shaw…to be my lawful wife…under the laws of the Kirk and the King…and to ye I pledge my life, my troth, and my honor.”

  Tears welled in her eyes as Toran repeated the vow to her. She wasn’t sure she’d be capable of speech when her turn came.

  Then it was her turn. “Give me yer right hand,” Jamie commanded, and then wrapped the tartan fabric around her trembling wrist. “Repeat after me. I, Aileana Shaw…take ye, Toran Lathan MacLathan…to be my lawful husband…under the laws of the Kirk and the King…and to ye I pledge my life, my troth, and my honor.”

  Somehow, Aileana got the words out. She could not help but be mesmerized by Toran’s eyes as she spoke them. His gaze bored into her. He inhaled her every word, every breath, as though he was trying to absorb it all and remember this moment for the rest of his life. She had no doubt that she would never forget the look on his face as Jamie wrapped the end of the cloth three times around their wrists, binding them together.

  “I pronounce ye married, laird and lady. No’ ’til death will ye part. And now, Toran,” he added with a wink, “ye may kiss the bride.”

  Toran wasted no time in pulling Aileana into his one-armed embrace, their bound hands clasped between them. His kiss was the sweetest Aileana had tasted of the many he’d given her. Tender, hopeful, joyful. She kissed him back, giving him with her lips and tears the full measure of her happiness.

  After a moment, Jamie cleared his throat and both Elspie and Senga began to clap, then rushed forward to hug them both, spilling tears and laughter over them like a benediction. Jamie stood to one side, looking like a small boy not invited to the party, so Aileana pulled her free arm from around her husband and welcomed Jamie into the assembled embrace.