A light, sincere laughter filled the chapel. “Of course he does, Father. What else could have made him overlook my one serious fault of being English?”
Chapter 13
Cole gripped his reins, waiting for the portcullis to slowly rise. Flames from lit scones flickered against the stone walls, leading the way through the gatehouse and into the dark inner yard. Just beyond the iron bars, he hoped Ellenor was still waiting for him. There was a chance—a good one—she wasn’t and he couldn’t blame her. Laurel and Brighid probably had her sequestered, protecting her from more disappointment. And yet, Cole could not see his Ellenor crying in some corner, wallowing in self-pity. More likely, she was spitting mad, pacing the floorboards ready to launch at him the minute their eyes locked. That he could handle. At least he hoped he could.
For weeks, he had been waiting to be reunited with Ellenor. He had dreamed of it every night, and when he was awake, she constantly invaded his thoughts. Countless times, he had almost sent for her, but until he could provide her a home and protection, he had forced himself to wait.
Three weeks ago, he had made his displeasure about the forward pace of reconstruction—or lack of it—abundantly clear. Dugan responded by working alongside Leith to rebuild Fàire Creachann, and finally, a few basic rooms had been made livable and shelters had been erected. It was not much, but now most of the clansmen working on the keep had a place to sleep that protected them from storms and foul weather. Most of all, it was enough for Cole to get Ellenor and bring her home.
Cole had not been alone in his anticipation. Donald, plus the handful of his married soldiers who had left wives behind, were also eager to travel south and return with their families. So a message had been sent. They would arrive on Saturday and there would be a wedding.
Saturday had ended three hours ago.
Riding hard, stopping only to sleep, the journey from Fàire Creachann to McTiernay Castle took forty-eight hours. Thursday morning the group had just begun the trip south when a messenger had caught up with them. There was a problem, requiring his immediate return. Unwilling to delay anyone else from greeting their loved ones, Cole ordered the group to continue, telling Donald that he would join them as soon as possible, but that he would be there. Unfortunately, the problem was neither small nor quick.
Fàire Creachann was heavily fortified, not by man, but by nature. Situated on top of a sizable headland that jutted 300 feet above the sea, the castle could be accessed by only one of two ways. Clansmen could ride on top of the strip of land that connected the promontory to the rest of Scotland, or they could travel via a tunnel inside the strip. Cole had ordered the tunnel to be sealed until its safety could be verified. Several young boys desiring a retreat away from adults and supervision hadn’t listened. A cave-in had occurred.
Wagons carrying heavy beams were crossing when part of the ground gave. Screams were heard for several minutes, then nothing. Left in charge, Dugan had immediately issued orders to get the wagon out of the way and start digging. He also sent for Cole. The situation called not just for the laird to reassure his people, but a critical thinker who could develop a plan quickly and decisively.
Cole had returned, assessed the situation, and began barking orders. Clansmen and soldiers worked tirelessly for hours and into the night, but finally, late the next morning, more than twenty-four hours after the collapse, the boys were rescued. Bumps and several bloody scrapes covered them, but they were alive.
And Cole was very late.
The whole ride toward McTiernay Castle, Cole reviewed his decisions in his head, and for each one, he would do the same thing again. He loved Ellenor and she loved him, but could she be happy as a laird’s wife? Especially if it were a struggling clan whose demands upon their leader were constant and numerous?
Cole had tried telling himself that his delay was auspicious, that it gave them both a chance to realize if such events could be weathered or if they would be a source of constant battles and tension. But he also dreaded learning the truth, because he knew, deep down, that if he ever lost Ellenor, he would be losing a piece of himself.
Finally, the iron barrier was high enough to allow entry. Cole kicked his mount in the hind legs and directed the animal toward the stables. He slid off the back, threw the reins at a semiconscious stable boy, and dashed across the yard toward the North Tower and his old room. He bounded up the stairs and hesitated only a moment before pushing open the door. It was dark with only faint starlight coming through the window to guide his movements. The embers from the fire had died, and with the exception of a soft fragrance in the air, the room felt cold and empty. He reached the bed. It had been turned down and something was scattered all over it. Petals from flowers. There was no sign of Ellenor.
Cole scooped some petals in his hands. They were dry and crumbled easily. Sweeping them aside, he sank onto the edge of the bed and bent over, clutching his head in his hands. Memories of the last moments they had shared together flooded his mind, and suddenly, Cole knew that it was not as it seemed. Simple dismissal was not Ellenor’s style.
Cole rushed down the tower stairs and headed toward the Star Tower, hoping his brother would be able to tell him where Ellenor was waiting and just how mad she would be when he got there. He was nearly at the tower’s archway when he spied candlelight flickering to his right. Pivoting, he changed direction and hastened toward the chapel entrance, wondering if Ellenor was there. And if she was there, why had she refused to leave?
Ellenor was afraid to open her eyes. She didn’t want to learn that the tender kiss against her cheek or the strength in the fingers softly enfolding her hand were only parts of a fading dream. “Cole?” she whispered.
“Aye,” came the husky reply.
Her lids fluttered open. It was Cole. He was bending over her. He had finally arrived. She wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on as he lifted her onto his lap. He tilted her head back and she gazed into his eyes. Pain, worry, and fear lurked in the deep blue depths. She tucked back a stray lock of his dark hair. “I knew you would come,” she whispered. And then she leaned forward and kissed him in a way that left no doubt about her feelings. Her embrace was tender, but passionate, and Cole took full advantage of the offering.
They kissed away the weeks of loneliness, the hours of worry, the fear of unfulfilled promises. Ellenor once again found the man whom she could trust with her heart and soul and Cole clung to the softness and intimacy only she could give him. No longer did fear accompany the intensity or depth of their need for each other. Never again would they be alone.
Ellenor felt a shudder pass through Cole as he reluctantly eased himself away from her. “I love you,” he whispered.
“I know. I love you, too.”
“I have to explain, tell you why I was—”
“Shhh,” Ellenor said, stopping him with a finger softly pressed against his lips. “You need say nothing.”
Cole kissed the fingertip and then tugged it away from his lips. “I don’t know whether to be grateful or concerned,” he said warily.
Ellenor gazed into his eyes. His love for her was abundantly clear, but equally clear was the fear of which he had spoken. He couldn’t believe that she wasn’t angry, at least on some level, about his late arrival. Taking his hands in hers, she said, “I have faith in you and therefore in us. I know you would have been here if it were not for a very good reason. And if I needed proof”—she paused, fingering his filthy tunic—“all I would have to do is to inhale deeply. You…well, you stink.”
Cole laughed and hugged her tightly to him. “And you smell wonderful. How did I get so lucky?” And before she could respond, he closed his hand around the back of her head and brought her mouth down to his.
His kiss was surprisingly gentle as he urged her lips apart. She allowed him into her moist warmth, tasting him with her tongue, recalling what it was like to be with him. Suddenly, she needed to touch Cole everywhere—his throat, his chest, his abdomen—she needed to explore e
very inch of him. The full force of her hunger must have broken over Cole for she could feel the increased tempo of his pounding heartbeat, hot and heady and compelling. Her body stirred in response, remembering. He groaned and crushed her hips against him, letting her feel his desire, knowing it would build her own need for him to uncontrollable levels.
Ellenor was seconds away from ripping their clothes off when a simple, but penetrating cough followed by an “Ahem” filled the room. Embarrassed, she tried scuttling off Cole’s lap and down the pew, but he wouldn’t let her. The most Cole would allow was for her to turn around in his arms. “Hello, Father. I think we are finally ready. Care to do the honors?”
The old priest grinned and his brown eyes were dancing again. “Why, of course—”
He was interrupted by another, much louder, “Ahem”. Conan stepped around the priest and entered the room. Ellenor took advantage of Cole’s shock and jumped off his lap. “How did you know I returned…” Cole muttered in disbelief.
“Between the stable boy and the guard from the gate going around announcing your arrival, I believe most everyone knows and will soon be here wanting to witness the miracle of your wedding,” Conan teased. Then he looked at Ellenor. Her hair was askew and flowers were entangled in golden knots, but she still looked beautiful. “So, if you don’t mind waiting just a bit longer, Ellenor, there are a few more of us McTiernays that want to witness this event. We all still find it hard to believe Cole actually found someone who wants to be his wife.”
“Ha!” Cole exclaimed, pulling Ellenor protectively into his side. “The only thing more ill-fated is you getting married.”
Conan nodded and chuckled in agreement. “True, true, marriage is a blessed curse meant only for some and thankfully I am not one of them, but I am truly happy for you, brother. You have a most beautiful bride and with the exception of marrying you…a most intelligent one. Take care of her.”
Conan had barely spoken the words when Brighid came barreling in followed by Maegan and Laurel. Magically procuring Ellenor from his grasp, they gave Cole several dirty looks before declaring Ellenor needed to leave and would be back shortly. It was his turn to wait.
A half hour later, the resentment Cole had been feeling regarding Ellenor’s hastened absence and the discomfort of bathing in a tub in the kitchen instantly vanished. Most of the town had risen in the predawn hour to witness the nuptials, and their gasps as Ellenor reentered the chapel likened his own.
Ellenor looked exquisite. Her hair was down and the flowers had been removed. Only the simple tiara remained. The luckenbooth that had once belonged to his mother held the McTiernay plaid over one shoulder. Never had she looked more beautiful. She was a dream, an aisling, and she was about to be his.
Cole didn’t know when or why he had become so lucky; he just knew he was.
Ellenor laid her head against Cole’s shoulder as he carried her up the winding tower staircase. The simple reassuring movement of his muscles filled her with a sense of peace deeper than she had ever known. The night, which had started so uncertain, had ended with merriment and celebration. Instead of the morning light marking the end to the festivities, it only gave them new life. Those clansmen who had retired disappointed awoke to news of a wedding. They had quickly joined the feast, putting aside all but the most basic of chores and necessities.
The McTiernay clan didn’t show any signs of slowing or ending the party, so when Cole swung Ellenor into his arms and left to celebratory cheers, she was surprised, but thankful.
“I cannot think of when I have ever been so happy,” Ellenor sighed.
“I can think of only one time.”
Ellenor’s lashes flew up as she moved her head to look him directly in the eye. “And when was that?”
Cole paused and held her gaze. “When you first told me you loved me.”
Doubt flooded Ellenor’s expression. She had expected him to reference the last time they were together, not the final day of their journey from England. They had kissed and it had been magical. Then directly afterward, Cole had announced that the concept of they, as a couple, could never be. “Are we remembering the same moment? Because if I recall correctly, I wasn’t exactly in a good mood the first time I said I loved you. And you were anything but happy.”
Cole twitched his lips and resumed his march up the stairs. “Stunned more like it, but I was happy. To think that a woman like you could feel that way about someone like me…well, it still is a miracle. And for a brief moment, it gave me hope.”
“But then why were you so cold? So distant?”
“Hope that I might someday marry, but not you. You scared me. But it was too late, those words changed my future. At the time, I might not have realized or accepted it, but that’s understandable.” He paused at the door and nudged it open with his knee. Walking inside, he gently put her down on her feet and started to walk away.
Ellenor caught his arm and stopped him. “Understandable?”
“Aye,” Cole answered, brushing his knuckles down her cheek in a soft caress. “A man like me hopes to find someone who can tolerate him enough to start a family. And honestly, I had long ago resolved myself to bachelorhood. I thought I liked my freedom.”
“And didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t freedom I was clinging to, it was loneliness, and you, with those simple words, forced me to really look at what I was choosing.”
“Then why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I thought you deserved better than me.”
Ellenor shook her head in incredulity. “Never. Never will I ever want any man other than you. I will always love you.”
Cole took a deep breath and exhaled. She still scared him. Losing her would cost him his soul, but he would not lose her from walking away. “And I love you, Scot,” he said with a smile. The love reflecting in the dark green depths of her eyes was bright and clear, and he knew it would never dim.
Ellenor grinned and playfully smacked his shoulder. “Scot! I’ll have you know that I am a legitimate Highlander now and will not tolerate such insults.”
Cole returned her grin and pulled her to him, gathering her closer to his chest. “I’ll never get enough of you, do you know that?”
“Aye,” Ellenor whispered, lacing her fingers in his thick hair, pulling his lips to hers.
His mouth came down and she kissed him with a kind of wild abandon that came from torturous weeks of waiting. She could feel the heat from his large hands splayed over her back, holding her close. Thinking about the last time they had held her, touched her, memorized her, caused her pulse to race. It was followed by hot little ripples of pleasure as she discovered the hard bulge under his plaid. She instinctively and sensuously moved against it.
God, she wanted him and knew she always would.
She made a small hungry sound deep in her throat and pressed as close to him as she could get.
Cole broke the kiss and held her tight, stopping her body from rubbing against him. Any more sensation and their first coupling as husband and wife would be standing up, her pinned against the stone wall just a few feet away.
He raised his eyes to look down at her. The passion reflecting back at him caused his own throat to tighten.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered.
Ellenor smiled playfully. “I know. It’s a shame really that your looks don’t compare. I think it’s the dimples,” she teased and reached up to stroke his right cheek.
“Liar.” Cole laughed, grabbing her hand. “You’ve liked them since we first met. You kept staring at them. Face it. You’re jealous.”
“Jealous? Why should I be jealous if I am already beautiful?”
Cole kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t know, love. You have no reason to be. I just know that you are.”
Ellenor narrowed her eyes at him, but they lacked the fire needed to portray true anger. She took the end of her plaid and swatted him. Cole laughed and began to loosen his belt. Ellenor moved toward the
chest housing her garments, kicked off her slippers, and pulled on the strings binding her gown. She heard a hard thud and glanced behind her to see what it was. It had been Cole’s heavy leather belt. His plaid was right beside it. Cole was riveted, sitting on the side of the bed, watching her undress. She quickly returned to the task, suddenly feeling apprehensive. She slipped the bliaut over her head. The thick velvet material caught the chemise underneath and the thin gown rose up her leg almost to her buttocks. A nervous giggle escaped. She waited for Cole to say something. When he didn’t, Ellenor assumed he was waiting for her. She forced herself to turn around, hoping that he would take her into his arms and dispose of the chemise himself. Instantly, she knew that was not going to happen.
Cole had fallen back onto the bed and was fast asleep. His knees were bent and his feet were still against the floor, unmoved from where he had been sitting. Only sheer will had enabled him to stay awake these past several hours. But there was only so much will a body could produce, and even the promise of a wedding night could not overrule basic needs.
Ellenor went over and picked up his legs. Her goal had been to carefully move them on top of the bed, but immediately she realized two things. First, his legs were incredibly heavy, making the effort to move them hard, cumbersome, and far from gentle. And second, it didn’t matter. The man was out cold. She could probably scream and he would remain comatose. Ellenor doubted anything short of several hours’ sleep would change Cole’s deep state of unconsciousness.
Desiring The Highlander Page 29