He broke off when she made a small noise of satisfaction, obviously misinterpreting it. ‘I’m sorry, am I hurting you? I don’t mean to, it’s just … I’ve been so afraid.’ He buried his face in her hair and stroked the back of her head and neck. ‘I thought I’d never see you again and that Seton had won.’
‘No,’ she kissed his stubbled jaw line, her lips enjoying the soft bristles which tickled in the most delicious way. ‘I would have died rather than marry Seton. I told him so. I’d have gone through with it too because I thought you were dead. Those men, there were so many of them and their expressions …’ She shuddered.
‘I know, but they hadn’t come to kill me. Seton couldn’t persuade them to do that, apparently, so they abducted me instead. I was to be sent to the colonies as an indentured servant. Ramsay and Alex too.’
‘But you managed to free yourselves?’ She cupped his face between her hands, her heart beating hard with the realisation of how close to disaster they’d come.
‘Yes, but it’s a long story so I’ll tell you later. Let’s go back to the others now. I don’t want to leave them for too long. There was some bloodshed, Seton and the Englishman are dead. I hope you’re not squeamish?’ He put a hand up to cover one of hers and turned his face to kiss the palm of her hand. Even this small contact sent a frisson of delight through her, right down to her stomach.
‘No, I’ll be fine. And … I’m relieved.’ She’d been about to say ‘glad’, but realised she wasn’t. She hadn’t wanted Seton’s death, only for him to be punished for what he’d done. As for the Sassenach, he was unimportant.
‘Come, then.’ He took her hand and held on to it as though he’d never let go ever again. With his other one, he caught the horse’s bridle. Thankfully the animal hadn’t gone far and was a docile creature. Brice mounted and pulled Marsaili up behind him, making sure she was holding onto him before he set off.
‘Don’t worry, we’ll soon be on our way home.’ Then he laughed. ‘Home! How wonderful it sounds and how strange that the word now makes me think of Rosyth straight away instead of Sweden.’ He shook his head. ‘I hate to admit my father was right when he said I’d like it here, but even he could never have realised how much.’ He threw Marsaili a smiling glance over his shoulder. ‘And it’s all thanks to you.’
‘Me?’
‘Aye, mo cridhe,’ he said in perfect Gaelic. ‘Where you are will always be home to me. That is, if you’ve decided to accept my proposal? It seems so long ago now, I’d almost forgotten you have yet to give me an answer.’
Marsaili didn’t hesitate, but hugged him tight. ‘The answer is yes.’
Brice grinned at her. ‘Excellent!’
Chapter Thirty-One
It was a very weary group that entered the courtyard of Rosyth House two days later, drawing a collective sigh of relief. Their journey had been slow, partly due to the fact that two of the ponies had to carry two riders each, and partly because they’d taken it easy so Iain’s and Corporal Moore’s wounds wouldn’t bleed too much.
The moment the horses’ hooves touched the cobbled stones, however, the door to the great hall was thrown open and Kirsty came rushing out, closely followed by Flora, Ailsa, Archie and a whole host of other people. Last, but not least, Liath limped out wagging his tail furiously. Brice saw him and felt a great weight lift from his chest. He sent up a swift prayer of thanks to God.
Kirsty reached them first, just as Ramsay helped Iain off his horse, and she let out a cry of alarm. ‘My love, you’re hurt!’
‘It’s nothing, a mere scratch,’ he hastened to reassure her. ‘A bullet grazed my shoulder, but I was lucky, it didn’t lodge in there.’
‘Thank the Lord. Come, we must get you cleaned up and I’ll fetch some healing salve and …’ Chattering, she led her husband away, without noticing the smiles that followed the couple.
After letting Archie greet them with fierce hugs and a million questions, Ailsa came forward and took Brice’s hands, covering them with her own. ‘Welcome back, dear boy. Do I take it all is well now?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, everything will be fine I think. I’ll ask my father’s friend Rory to make sure of it and we have witnesses whose statements should clear all our names. The English captain didn’t actually have any warrants for our arrests and Iain told me the weapons horde the Sassenach found was left behind here with Seton for safe-keeping. He knows where it is so we’ll get rid of it as soon as possible. And as for Seton, I’m afraid he won’t be bothering anyone ever again. Neither will the Englishman.’
Ailsa squeezed his hands. ‘That is probably a good thing, sad though it may be. Now come indoors, all of you. We’ll have water ready for baths in a trice, although you’ll have to take turns, and there is food and drink. My daughters told me we had to be ready for every eventuality.’
‘Thank you, it all sounds most welcome.’ Brice turned to Marsaili. ‘Would you like to have the first bath?’
‘Yes, please.’ She glanced at her friend, who had ridden with Ramsay so as not to nudge Iain’s shoulder. ‘And I think Eilidh would be glad of one too. You’re sure you don’t mind her staying?’
They had discussed the woman briefly on the way home and Brice had agreed to employ her. ‘No, of course not, she’s very welcome.’ To Ailsa he said, ‘Could I have some food and drink brought up to my room, please? I’m too tired for anything else right now.’
‘Of course. Go and rest, we’ll see you tomorrow.’
He headed for the house, just as a small whirlwind came flying out. Little Ida must have heard the commotion too and ran down the stairs to throw herself at her father. Brice laughed when she shrieked, ‘You’re home, you’re home! Did you buy me anything? Flora said you did.’
Ramsay looked confused and sent Flora an enquiring glance, but when she nodded imperceptibly, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, understanding dawned. ‘Well, if Flora says it’s true, it must be,’ he said. He lifted his daughter and began to walk towards the house. Flora stayed where she was, but then Brice saw Ramsay turn and hold out his hand to her. ‘Aren’t you coming? I’m relying on you to, er … show me what it is I’ve bought.’
Shyly, Flora reached out to put her hand in his. The last thing Brice heard before entering the house was Ramsay asking Ida, ‘Do you like Flora? Because I do and I’ve been thinking it might be good idea to ask her to come to Sweden with us. What do you say?’
And then Ida’s enthusiastic reply, ‘Oh, yes, Papa!’
Marsaili headed straight for her room and was glad when she didn’t have to wait long for the tub and hot water to arrive.
‘Will that be all?’ the maid who’d brought drying cloths and soap asked.
‘Yes, thank you. I can manage now.’ She just wanted to be left alone, have her bath and go to sleep.
She was bone weary, but it was a relief to pull off the clothes she’d worn for the best part of two weeks now. They were covered in dust from travelling and grime from the prison and she thought she could probably smell the scent of Seton on them too, which made her shudder. It was all she could do not to throw them straight into the fireplace and burn them. She knew they would always remind her of this ordeal.
Sinking into the hot water was bliss and she leaned her head back, closing her eyes with a small moan. It felt so good and she never wanted to come out.
‘There was I thinking you’d only make noises like that for me from now on, but I see hot water will do just as well,’ a voice said from behind her, startling her into sitting bolt upright. She turned around, sloshing water everywhere.
‘Brice! How did you … I mean, what are you doing here?’ She stared at the opening near the garderobe, knowing just how he came to stand in her room. ‘You weren’t supposed to use that,’ she added with a frown.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’ He grinned and came over to kneel by the side of the tub, his eyebrows rising at the sight of her half out of the water. ‘I’m glad I came though. I wouldn’
t have missed this for anything.’ She hurried to sink down, but it wasn’t much better.
‘Brice, you shouldn’t be here,’ she tried to sound stern, but her pulse was racing and she knew she didn’t mean it.
‘I just thought you might need some help, seeing as you looked so tired when you left me earlier.’ He picked up the soap and began to apply some to her back, while leaning forward to rain kisses along her collar bone and up her neck.
‘Did you really? I think you had a much more selfish reason for coming,’ she said, her voice sounding breathless even to her.
‘Hmm, you may be right.’ He continued to caress her back with one hand, while moving her long hair out of the way so his lips could work their way up to her cheek and from there to her mouth. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Since you’re asking so nicely, no,’ she whispered.
‘Good. Then perhaps there’s room for two in there?’ Without waiting for her reply, he stood up and pulled off his shirt and breeches, giving her a view that made her totally speechless. She took in the full glory of him, all hard muscles, golden skin and fading bruises. Then he lifted her bodily so he could sit down in the tub with her on his lap. It was quite a big tub, but Marsaili doubted it had been designed for two. She found herself extremely close to him.
‘Brice!’ she protested, but she was distracted by the nearness of his still-bronzed chest and couldn’t stop herself from touching it.
He chuckled and pulled her round so she was straddling him, then he kissed her again, more thoroughly this time, while using the soap as an excuse to caress the rest of her. When he came up for air, he murmured, ‘I had another reason for coming, but seeing you in the tub almost made me forget.’
‘Oh, and what was it?’ Marsaili didn’t really want to talk right now, but then the thought struck her that perhaps he’d changed his mind and didn’t want to marry her after all. In which case, she shouldn’t be doing this. She leaned back and looked at him, taking in the look in his eyes, the light blue darkened by desire. Just reading his thoughts so clearly made her feel weak.
‘Down by the loch, when I proposed to you,’ he said, ‘I was an ass.’
Marsaili blinked. He had changed his mind. The thought was like a bucket of cold water thrown over her head. ‘How so?’ she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. She swallowed hard. She didn’t want to hear his answer because she knew it would hurt. Like hell!
He smiled at her, a languorous grin that stirred something inside her, despite her doubts. ‘I told you I didn’t know what love was. That I wasn’t sure such a thing really existed.’ He leaned forward to put the tip of his nose against hers and whispered, ‘I was wrong. Completely and utterly. I was deluding myself.’
She gasped, but was too stunned to reply.
‘Love is when you realise a part of you will die if you can’t be with a certain someone. That life isn’t worth living if you can’t share it with that special person. That you want to kill, with your bare hands, anyone who comes between you. That is how I feel about you, Marsaili. I love you, with every fibre of my being, and I always will. Can you forgive me?’
‘For what?’ Marsaili wasn’t quite sure what he was asking.
‘For making you such a crass proposal, telling you I wanted you as my wife because I “cared” about you.’ He shook his head at himself. ‘I’m surprised you didn’t clout me. I deserved it.’
Marsaili breathed more easily at last and managed a shaky smile. ‘Of course I forgive you, especially after such a pretty speech.’ She ran her fingers down his cheek, rasping his stubble with her finger nails. He squirmed and smiled at her. ‘I think you’ve redeemed yourself, but you can always try a little harder to prove it to me.’ She moved provocatively on his lap and saw in his half-closed eyes that he took her meaning. His fingers started roaming again, distracting her from words.
‘Gladly, but not until you tell me what I want to hear,’ he said, his voice husky with promise.
‘And what is that?’ She drew in a sharp breath as he found a sensitive spot which had her melting against him.
‘You haven’t told me if you love me in return. Is this to be a one-sided marriage? I can live with that, because I’m not letting you go no matter what, but I’d much prefer an equal partnership in every way.’
He kissed her eyelids, her nose, her cheek, the corner of her mouth, tantalising her, but not giving her enough. She made an impatient noise, turning her lips up to his, but he just shook his head. ‘No more, not until you tell me what I want to hear. It’s only fair, I’ve bared my soul to you. Or are you as cruel as you are beautiful?’
‘Very well, I’ll confess – I love you too. Have loved you, probably from the moment I first set eyes on you. You’re gorgeous and irresistible and you know it. There, happy now?’
He grinned, looking satisfied in a very male sort of way. ‘It’ll do for a start. But when I’m through with you, I’m expecting to hear a lot more of your confession.’
He finally kissed her properly again, the way she craved, and she knew he was right. She hadn’t told him the half of it – that she simply couldn’t live without him and when he touched her, she’d do anything he asked. Anything at all.
But she had a sneaking suspicion he’d soon know anyway. There was no need for words.
About the Author
Christina lives in London and is married with two children. Although born in England she has a Swedish mother and was brought up in Sweden. In her teens, the family moved to Japan where she had the opportunity to travel extensively in the Far East.
Christina is an prize winning author, Highland Storms is her third novel and recently won the 2012 Best Historical Romantic Novel of the Year Award from the Romantic Novelists’ Association. Christina’s debut, Trade Winds was short listed for the Historical Novel of the Year in 2011 and her second novel, The Scarlet Kimono won the 2011 Big Red Reads Best Historical Fiction Award.
www.christinacourtenay.com
www.twitter.com/PiaCCourtenay
More Choc Lit
From Christina Courtenay
Trade Winds (prequel to Highland Storms)
Short listed for the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s Pure Passion Award for Best Historical Fiction 2011
Marriage of convenience – or a love for life?
It’s 1732 in Gothenburg, Sweden, and strong-willed Jess van Sandt knows only too well that it’s a man’s world. She believes she’s being swindled out of her inheritance by her stepfather – and she’s determined to stop it.
When help appears in the unlikely form of handsome Scotsman Killian Kinross, himself disinherited by his grandfather, Jess finds herself both intrigued and infuriated by him. In an attempt to recover her fortune, she proposes a marriage of convenience. Then Killian is offered the chance of a lifetime with the Swedish East India Company’s Expedition and he’s determined that nothing will stand in his way, not even his new bride.
He sets sail on a daring voyage to the Far East, believing he’s put his feelings and past behind him. But the journey doesn’t quite work out as he expects …
Find out more and purchase in the Kindle store: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Trade-Winds-ebook/dp/B00457XELG
The Scarlet Kimono
Abducted by a Samurai warlord in 17th-century Japan – what happens when fear turns to love?
England, 1611, and young Hannah Marston envies her brother’s adventurous life. But when she stows away on his merchant ship, her powers of endurance are stretched to their limit. Then they reach Japan and all her suffering seems worthwhile – until she is abducted by Taro Kumashiro’s warriors.
In the far north of the country, warlord Kumashiro is waiting to see the girl who he has been warned about by a seer. When at last they meet, it’s a clash of cultures and wills, but they’re also fighting an instant attraction to each other.
With her brother desperate to find her and the jealous Lady Reiko equally desperate to kill her, Hannah faces the greatest adventure of her
life. And Kumashiro has to choose between love and honour …
Visit www.choc-lit.com for more details including the first two chapters and reviews.
Find out more and purchase in the Kindle store:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/The-Scarlet-Kimono-ebook/dp/B004Q9TCXC
Arriving July 2012
The Silent Touch of Shadows
What will it take to put the past to rest?
Professional genealogist Melissa Grantham receives an invitation to visit her family’s ancestral home, Ashleigh Manor. From the moment she arrives, life-like dreams and visions haunt her. The spiritual connection to a medieval young woman and her forbidden lover have her questioning her sanity, but Melissa is determined to solve the mystery.
Jake Precy, owner of a nearby cottage, has disturbing dreams too, but it’s not until he meets Melissa that they begin to make sense. He hires her to research his family’s history, unaware their lives are already entwined. Is the mutual attraction real or the result of ghostly interference?
A haunting love story set partly in the present and partly in fifteenth century Kent.
Arriving July 2012 more details here: http://www.choc-lit.co.uk/html/the_silent_touch_of_shadows.html
More from Choc Lit
If you’ve enjoyed Christina’s heroes, you’ll enjoy the rest of our selection. Here’s a sample:
Highland Storms Page 30