* * * * *
Margeret shook her head as she helped Cailin lace the back of her bodice. “I do not understand why you refuse to wear the other gown.” She peered over Cailin’s shoulder to glower at her reflection in the looking glass.
“Enough, Maggie,” Cailin scolded. “Knowing the Gypsies, there is sure to be plenty of dancing and merriment and I am not going to wear one of my better gowns. Not only will it get soiled with mud and sweat, but it will restrict my movements and my breath as well. I would like to enjoy this afternoon rather than end it by fainting into oblivion.” Nor am I going to confine myself to a gown in which I cannot move freely enough to fight Angus.
The gown she wore was confining enough as it was, though she did choose one that did not require layers of underskirts. Instead, her cream-colored chemise draped to the floor and peeked through the front opening of the dark-green brocade outer skirt. The bodice of the same green brocade hugged her ribcage and waist before dipping into a “V” in front. Margeret tied forest-green ribbons, blousing the sleeves at her elbows first, then at her wrists, in a practical arrangement that was also attractive.
Cailin tugged at the slits in the gown sleeves to pull portions of the chemise through for the accenting contrast of the two fabrics. The entire ensemble was trimmed in ivory ribbon, lace and embroidery all done by her mother’s delicate hands. She eyed the perfect stitches with envy. Once Angus is dead, I will have plenty of time to perfect my skills.
“What troubles you child?” Margeret leaned around Cailin with a furrowed brow.
She plastered a smile to her mouth and faced her handmaid. “Nothing, Maggie.”
Adjusting the chemise collar along the bodice’s neckline, Maggie attempted to cover Cailin’s cleavage. “’Tis quite all right to have apprehensions about such a memorable event.”
You have no idea, my dear sweet friend. Cailin frowned and pulled her bosom up to swell over the chemise. “Truly, I am not nervous about wedding James. I just wish Da could be here for this.” Not entirely untrue…
“Well, that is understandable.” Margeret returned the frown and yanked Cailin’s chemise higher for more modesty. She nodded her final position on the matter of how much bust Cailin should be exposing. A moment after disappearing into the wardrobe, she emerged with a pair of green, glass-beaded slippers.
“Oh, Maggie,” Cailin protested. “I do adore those shoes, but they refuse to stay upon my feet.”
“Nonsense! You look lovely in these shoes and they complement your gown so well.” Margeret knelt before Cailin and grabbed her ankle, slipped her foot into one shoe, then the other. “If you insist on wearing this moderate gown, you must at least dress it up with these slippers.” She rose to her feet and planted her fists upon her hips. “Go on, skip around the room,” she encouraged with a few waves of her hands.
Cailin sighed and grabbed handfuls of her skirts, obeying her handmaid. To her surprise, the slippers did not fall off. “Oh, very well.”
Guiding Cailin to the tapestry-covered stool, Maggie encouraged Cailin to sit before the looking glass. She proceeded to comb through Cailin’s auburn tresses that hung down her back. Margeret had just finished working out the tangles and split the hair into sections for braiding when a knock vibrated the chamber door. “I shall tend to that,” her handmaid announced and padded to greet the visitor. Cailin yanked her chemise back down to expose her bust. To her reflection, she nodded her final position on the matter.
“Is my lady dressed?” James’s deep voice swept through the room like a warm breeze. Cailin’s heart staccatoed in her breast.
“Aye, you may see her if you wish.” Margeret stepped aside, allowing James to enter the room.
Cailin stood and had to stop herself from gawking. Dark-brown hose hugged his muscular thighs above knee-high black boots formed over his calves, making her mouth water. Midnight-blue sleeves, bloused and laced at his shoulders, protruded from the matching brown brocade vest. Save for the cod piece at his groin—which Cailin found herself staring at a bit too long—and the billowing sleeves, his outfit left little to the imagination of his excellent and wondrously fit form. His baldric was slung over his right shoulder and hung diagonally across his chest, the sword her father presented him nestled at his trim hip. He looked magnificent. Her eyes finally met his. The roguish grin on his face told her he enjoyed her open admiration of his outfit.
Cailin cleared her throat. “Give us a moment, would you, Maggie?”
“My pleasure,” she said, and sat herself upon the settee at the foot of Cailin’s bed.
She tore her eyes away from James and glared at her handmaid. “We are hardly going to consummate our marriage in the few moments I am requesting. Please step out of the room.”
“I most certainly will not!”
Cailin marched over to Margeret and shooed her out of the chamber all the while saying, “James and I are to be wed in a just a few months. Even if he did toss my skirts, we are to be wed anyway! What difference does—”
“A pox on that mouth of yours, child!” She stood in the hallway, pointing that scolding finger. “We taught you better than—” Cailin closed and latched the door.
James dashed to Cailin and snatched her up, his hands on her bottom and wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her giggling to the bed. She screeched when she lost her shoe.
“I can guarantee,” his deep, husky voice promised as he nuzzled her neck, “that I can most certainly toss your skirts and consummate our marriage in just moments!”
Playfully beating his shoulder, she spoke through her laughter. “Behave, you rogue! She is going to break that door down if you do not cease your wonderful ravishing of my person.”
He pulled back and his eyes raked over her face and rested upon her neckline. Her belly fluttered wildly. “You look sweet enough to eat,” he growled and nibbled hot kisses over her swelling bosom.
An aching surged between her thighs and she made every effort to stifle her groans. His lips left a fiery wet trail over her fevered skin as he worked his way back to her neck. When his tongue seared a path over the shell of her ear, she gasped, clutching his shoulders and squeezing her legs around him.
“Cailin,” he breathed, sending more waves of heat across her body. “God’s blood, I love the way you respond to me!” His mouth sought hers, capturing her in a kiss that stole her breath. Grinding his erection against her mound, his groans mingled with her panting.
With every sweep of his tongue, every piece of her flesh he devoured with his mouth and hands, Cailin slipped deeper into passion…and deeper into despair. This was what she wanted—these breathtaking moments of amorous attention. This was what she craved and needed for her soul.
But…Angus Campbell.
Hovering in the blackness at the edge of their lives, her father’s enemy would haunt them, terrorize their happiness and shatter their dreams of having a family. She did not want their children living in the shadow of fear that had darkened her childhood. Cailin savored the taste of James’s sweet mouth. Burned the memory of his arms around her into her soul. If she died in the efforts to free their lives of Campbell’s menace, she would at least take these treasures with her to the grave.
As much as she did not want him to stop, she pushed at his shoulders. “James,” she protested between his kisses. “My darling, please.”
His lust-clouded eyes gazed at her, hooded and so very delicious. “I know, Mouse.” He kissed her again, leaving her thirsting for more. “I am speaking to your parents…we wed as soon as humanly possible.”
He seized her mouth in one more seeking kiss and groaned aloud as he pushed up off her body. Grabbing her hand, he helped her to her feet then bowed before her, the image of a perfect gentleman. The way his mouth made love to her palm, however, was very much the rogue who ravished her just seconds before. Her legs would surely collapse beneath her.
When he straightened from his bow, she stepped closer. “James, I…” She had asked for
this time to communicate her heart to him, and yet the words would not come forth. How could she possibly express, in such a short span, the respect and love she held toward him? Since they met when she was but a child, that connection had deepened and, through the years, she cherished his opinion and their friendship. Now, standing before her, the man he had become made her grow weak in his arms and turned her into a puddle at his feet with just a kiss. However, if she did not survive this reckless venture, pouring her heart out to James would not be fair to him. She couldn’t bare her soul and make promises she may never be able to keep.
His palm cradled her cheek and he pressed his lips to her brow. “What is it, Mouse?”
“I…am…wondering if our wedding night will be as lovely as this.” Though a true statement, guilt plagued her for not speaking her mind, in spite of her convictions to save him pain.
James wrapped her in his arms with a seductive chuckle that made her tremble. “Oh, my little Mouse, this is only but a taste of what is yet to come.” He gazed at her with desire storming in his sea-green eyes. “I can promise you that.”
He cocked an eyebrow, ever the rogue.
* * * * *
Margeret cast darting glances of disapproval at Cailin as they strolled down the road toward the Gypsy camp. Cailin did her best to ignore them, though her cheeks still burned with embarrassment. She and James had received a royal scolding when they finally opened her bedchamber door.
Maggie had indeed listened in on their encounter. Her handmaid confessed she had been two beats away from fetching Davina. “I care not how soon you are to be wed,” she berated them both. “Cailin will reach the marriage bed with her maidenhead intact!”
Cailin had groaned with mortification while James only chuckled at her declarations, enflaming Margeret’s anger even more. This had made Cailin’s hairstyling session a painful experience. Maggie grumbled the entire episode, yanking and twisting Cailin’s cinnamon hair into her coiffure and hairnet.
Now Cailin diverted her eyes to James’s profile as a distraction from her handmaid’s venomous glares.
Servants bustled up and down the path, nodding and smiling. “Mistress Davina,” James asked, humor lighting his voice. “Did you lend your entire household to the Gypsies?”
Davina chuckled. “Nigh on that! They insisted on hosting these festivities with or without my assistance, and I could not, in good conscience, put the entire chore upon their shoulders.”
Davina’s handmaid, Elizabyth, chuckled and whispered in Davina’s ear.
Cailin’s mother nodded. Looking around as if to see if any but their group was listening, she leaned in conspiratorially. “Truth be told, I did not trust the Gypsy cuisine to be grand enough for such a celebration for my sweet Cailin and dashing James.” James chortled and Cailin blushed with protests, but Davina waved her off. “Though baked hedgehog is a tasty venture for the tongue—”
Most present expressed groans of disapproval.
“You see! I urge you to try it! It’s really very tasty.” More groans and Davina rolled her eyes heavenward. “In any manner, as you all have proved, I didn’t think everyone would be so inclined to such an adventure for the palate. And in all honesty, the Gypsies were more centered on the events and decorations. They were more than accepting of our hospitality to provide the feast for the occasion.” Cailin’s mother considered the train of servants and pursed her lips. “Perhaps I did get a bit extreme?”
Trailing behind the small group and chuckling at Davina’s assessment of her involvement, Ranald and Will conversed with each other and the three other armed escorts, chatting about the anticipated festivities.
Cailin’s rising anticipation, however, traveled more along the vein of fear and uncertainty. Could she go through with her plan? She barely had the chance to strap a silver-plated dagger to her thigh and her small sleeve sheath to her forearm. The blades she usually fastened to her hips were left in her room at Margeret’s insistence. Protesting otherwise might have raised some suspicions and Cailin reasoned Jasper and Alistair would most assuredly confiscate them anyway. Armed only with these small weapons, she would indeed be at their mercy and very naked without her usual personal protection. What would she do if they found them? What would she do when she finally faced Angus?
Her desire to see through her original plan and her determination to die than rather continue to live in fear, forced the apprehensions out of her mind. It was now or never, so she might as well enjoy the evening while she had the chance. She fingered the amulet tucked into her bodice for courage.
James wrapped his arm around her shoulder and hugged her close. “What is that furrow upon thy lovely brow?” His hot breath against her ear sent shivers of desire through her body.
She snaked her arm about his waist and held tight. “These shoes are surely to be the death of me,” she lied.
He chuckled. “I will always be here to catch you if you fall.”
She gazed up into his adoring eyes and swallowed the lump forming in her throat. “I have no doubts, my love.”
Rows of trestle tables—with a head table at the forefront of the arrangement—were the focal point of the Gypsy camp. From dove, chicken and duck, to wild boar, veal and lamb, the aroma of meats and mounds of vegetables permeated the air. The Gypsies hadn’t eaten this well since Broderick and Davina shared their wedding feast with Rosselyn and Nicabar during their dual wedding…or so were the comments floating around the mixed company. Wine and ale flowed freely, trenchers piled with food filled everyone’s bellies, and laughter echoed about the surrounding forest throughout the afternoon.
James stood and raised his goblet above his head, garnering the attention of the gathered guests. When the throng quieted, he nodded his thanks. “A well-deserved cheer and a rousing huzzah to Clan MacDougal!” Frivolity ensued, thundering through his chest, and he nodded to his future mother-in-law on the seat to his left. After the crowd indulged a moment longer, he waved for their silence. “Broderick and Davina have given me more than any man deserves, and more than just taking me into their fold. They secured my future with a ship to command, and I look forward to her christening once Broderick has returned. But more importantly…” He gazed down at the woman seated to his right and lost himself for a moment in her cerulean eyes. Grasping Cailin’s hand, he encouraged her to stand at his side. “More importantly,” he repeated, “the most beautiful woman in all the world to claim as my own.” He kissed her knuckles and the cheers and encouragement rose to a deafening level.
James groaned when his cock twitched in response to the taste of her skin. Cailin’s brow creased and, what he presumed was worry, glassed her eyes. He caressed her cheek and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “What is it, Mouse?”
She shook her head and touched her lips to his cheek. “All is well,” she said, but even through the noise, he thought he heard her voice crack.
The guests pounded in unison on the tabletops, urging the couple to kiss. Laughing at the boisterous crowd, James swept Cailin into his embrace and fused his mouth shamefully to hers in a kiss that made him glad he wore his cod piece. His heart pounded at the warmth of her body pressed against his.
Margeret pounded uselessly on his back. He released his hold on Cailin only when he was good and ready. As far as he was concerned, he’d branded her as his and no one would interfere with his attentions on her.
Though Cailin’s skin glowed pink with embarrassment, passion sparkled in her eyes. Aye, the MacDougals may be disappointed with a post celebration of their union. He could not wait much longer for the betrothal ceremony at the end of the month, let alone their wedding in the winter.
Eventually the feast was cleared. Both musicians from the neighboring town of Edinburgh and the Gypsies raised instruments to provide trilling music to accompany the stomping and dancing that ensued. A grand circle formed where James and Cailin were thrown into the center and goaded to dance. James waved his arms at Cailin, getting his hands ready to perform a little
routine they used to do in their youth.
Cailin gasped and put her hands over her mouth, shaking her head vigorously.
“Aye!” he yelled and laughed above the cacophony of notes and cheers. “Come, Mouse! Do it for me!”
She pursed her lips, repressing a grin, but heaved a dramatic sigh and relented. She stepped forward with obvious reluctance, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
James chuckled and positioned his hands again. Cailin mirrored his stance, placing her palms against his. Stomping his foot to start their timing, he counted to three and they began. Laughter poured out of Cailin’s mouth as they ran through a series of claps and elbow jabs, knee slapping and turns, performing the silly dance from their childhood.
Davina covered her face, guffawing, thoroughly amused with their antics. The Gypsies roared their approval, getting louder as the couple repeated the cycle of rehearsed movements. The musicians increased the tempo of the music, daring James and Cailin to keep up with the timing, faster and faster until one of her shoes slipped off and she tumbled into James’s arms. The crowd erupted into applause, swarming around the panting pair, and lifted them onto their shoulders.
A scream pierced the festivities and the noise level dropped to near silence while the betrothed pair was placed on their feet once again. Cailin donned her shoe and her heart lurched in her chest. The diversion.
“Fire!” someone hollered from east side of the encampment. A clamor rose as people scattered and shouted orders, organizing efforts to put out the flames reaching for the darkening sky. Black smoke billowed as a tent became engulfed. Men stepped forward with blankets, beating back the inferno in an attempt to get the blaze under control. Women carried more blankets to aid the battle.
Cailin whirled as James ran to help, grabbing a blanket from the arms of her mother. Training her eyes around the crowd, Cailin searched for her captors.
“Over here!” someone screamed from the west side of the camp. “Another fire!”
MIDNIGHT CAPTIVE: Book 2 of the Bonded By Blood Vampire Chronicles Page 10