by Lily Baldwin
A wave of relief passed over her father’s face the instant before his brows drew together with concern. “Prepare yourself, daughter. Our room is sure to offer little by way of comfort.”
Jack cleared his throat. “David, yer beddin’ down on yer own.”
Bella’s heart started to pound. She met Jack’s hot gaze.
“But where do you intend to sleep?” David asked Jack, and then his breath caught as his eyes darted between Jack and Bella. “Surely, you do not intend to share a room with my daughter.”
Jack drew back a step. “That is exactly my intention.” He threw his hands out. “But do not fash yerself. First, I plan to wed her.”
Bella looked at Jack. A shiver shot up her back, curling her toes. She could not draw breath. Her heart raced.
“That is…if ye’ll have me,” he said, his voice soft and low. He reached out and grazed the backs of his fingers down her cheek.
She threw her arms around his neck. “Nothing could make me happier.” But then, remembering her father, she stiffened and drew away. “Papa?” she said, her eyes pleading for him to understand her heart.
A scowl furrowed her father’s brow. In that moment, he was every bit Lord Redesdale; the relieved and spirited David had vanished. “Of all the offensive, improper….” His voice trailed off as he looked about the room, clearly scanning their rustic surroundings, the simple tables and coarse inhabitants. When he looked at her once more, his face had softened—David had returned. He stepped forward and cupped her cheek. “It seems my new life demands I relinquish control, a daunting but not unwelcome task. I have no qualms with the match if this is where your heart lies. He has proved himself to be an intelligent man of great heart. More than that, he clearly loves you.” He turned his gaze to Jack. “I could ask nothing more for my Bella.” Then his smile faded. “But forgive me for saying so, you do already have a lot of children.”
Bella laughed outright. “Jack’s lassies are not of his body, Papa. They are simply in his charge.” Once more her father appeared confused. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “When we have reached Colonsay, I will tell you everything.”
Her wedding was perfect with none of the pomp and frivolities of noble custom; they did not even stand for mass. She wore her stolen dress of homespun wool. Jack had made her a crown of wild flowers, which he had laid on her unbound hair. On her father’s arm, she walked the short length of the common room and stood in front of the local priest who, as fortune would have it, had been at one of the tables enjoying a mug of ale. In just a few short minutes, they were married, and she did not think she could have waited a minute more. The look of hunger in Jack’s eyes was a mirror of her own desire.
“Shall we feast?” David said, proudly pointing to a large spread of baked apples, stewed chestnuts, meat pies, bannock and ale. God above, but the last thing she wanted at that moment was to sit down and eat. She looked at Jack. The pulse at his neck raced. Her feet pointed toward the stairs. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. Finally, she forced a smile to her lips and was about to thank her father and sit down when an old woman in a voluminous black cloak drew near.
“Can’t ye see they’re not hungry,” the old woman said to David. “At least not for food.” She turned and winked at Bella. She had soft, kind gray eyes and silvery hair pulled back from her face, which was creased with age. She sat down next to David. “As for me, well it has been a good while since I sat down to such a feast.” She reached for one of the small pies and took a bite. “Mmm, eel…delicious,” she mumbled as she chewed. Then she washed it down with a sip of ale. “Didn’t they have pigeon?” she asked.
Bella pressed her lips together to keep from laughing at the appalled look on father’s face. First giving Bella a sly smile, the old woman then turned back to David. “Surely, you were young once,” she said with a wink.
“Would you believe that I was?” David said to her.
The old woman smiled. “I would. And I also believe you were once truly loved by a woman.”
A distant look clouded her father’s eyes, and a slight smile curved his lips. “Indeed, I was,” he whispered. Leaning back in his chair, he looked up at Bella. “I wish you both every happiness,” he said softly.
Tears filled Bella’s eyes. “Are you certain, Papa?”
David nodded. “I will be fine.” Then he turned to the old woman at his side. “What is your name?”
“Gertrude,” she replied.
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” David said before turning back to Bella. “Gertrude will keep me company.”
“Thank you, Papa,” Bella whispered.
Then she wrapped her arms around Jack’s neck and lost herself in his black eyes.
*
Jack opened the door. She passed into the small room. With one sweep of her eyes, she took in the simple bed, table and two chairs, and small chest. And then the room was forgotten. The door slammed behind her. She whirled around and opened her arms just as he reached for her. He tore the flower crown from her head and sent it soaring across the room. Then his fingers dug into her hair, and he crushed her mouth against his. His tongue dove between her lips, unlocking her hunger. His hands cupped her cheeks and then her neck and then caressed down her shoulders. He tore his lips away. His black eyes were hard and heavy. He grabbed her tunic and yanked it over her head. Her kirtle quickly followed. She was bare to his midnight eyes. He drew a shaky breath and ran a finger slowly down her breast bone to her navel and then, slower still, sweeping his fingers across the curls at the apex of her thighs. Her legs trembled. Ache shuddered where he had touched. He stepped back and jerked free from his clothes. Her eyes raked over the hard lines of his chest and stomach. His smell surrounded her, drawing her in.
She reached out and grazed the crisp, black hair fanning across his chest. His breathing quickened, and his skin shone with sweat. She leaned close and pressed her lips to the hollow of his neck, savoring the salt taste of him. With a groan, he pulled her against him. Then he bent his head and breathed hot currents of air over her hardened nipples. She cried out when his teeth lightly bit down, drawing first one sensitive peak into his mouth and then the other. Moving his lips slowly down her stomach, his fingers pressed her thighs apart. He sank to his knees, gripped her buttocks and pulled the wet heat of her to his lips. She threw her head back and cried out as fire, hot and searing, coursed through her. Her breath hitched. She whimpered. Agonizing need begged her hips to tilt into his kiss. Cool air teased her desire when he pulled away and roughly grabbed her waist. He threw her down on the bed and covered her with his full weight, kissing her, fueling the flames of yearning. He grasped her hips so hard it hurt as, slowly, he pressed his hard, thick length inside of her. Her fingers bit into his shoulders. She flung her head back, arching her chest, writhing beneath him as he pumped his body into hers, each thrust harder than the last. She reached, climbing higher and higher until at last, her body seized. She shuddered around him as wave after wave of sweet relief coursed through her body.
*
Bella awoke to Jack lightly tracing the tip of finger around the pink moon of her nipple. Through bleary eyes she smiled and nuzzled close to him. Then her eyes flew open. She sat up. “Something just occurred to me”
He rolled over onto his back and laced his fingers behind his head. “Aye? And what is that?”
She leaned out of bed and scooped her tunic off the floor. “I stole this.”
He smiled. “But we already knew that.”
She started to laugh.
“What is so funny?” he asked.
“You and I are married.”
He frowned. “Although I don’t see the humor in that, we are, indeed, married. There’s an alehouse full of witnesses able to attest to that fact.”
She could not contain her laughter.
“Are ye goin’ to tell me what ye find so amusin’, wife?”
She hiccupped and nodded. Reaching her arms around his neck, she said, “It just
occurred to me that I am now a thief, an outlaw, a commoner, and a Scotswoman. You and I are now a perfect match.”
He smiled and pulled her closed. Then he rolled over, pushing her back onto the bed. “I hope this does not disappoint ye, but I believe my thievin’ days are over. In truth, ye married a fisherman.”
“I think that fine,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek. “But you will always be the thief of my heart.”
“And ye,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Will always be my princess.”
Epilogue
Jack gripped his fishing boat and bent low, pressing his shoulder into the stern. “Alright, lads, put yer backs into it,” he called to Ian and David who flanked the boat on either side. They trudged forward, the hull carving into the sand. Icy water lapped Jack’s calves until the waves receded, swallowing the shore out from beneath his feet. A moment later, the surf barreled forward, churning once more around his legs. This dance continued until they had moved the boat beyond the ocean’s hungry reach.
He straightened and stretched his back, then wiped at the beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Are ye well?” he said, sitting down on the sand next to David who was trying to catch his breath. David’s white hair stood on end in the wind. Dirt and dried salt streaked his ruddy face.
He looked at Jack warmly. “I would be lying if I said that I‘ve never felt happier. However, if I cannot have my Annunziatta at my side, then I can tell you with the greatest sincerity, there is no place I would rather be.”
Jack smiled and fell back in the sand. The hot summer sun had begun to dip behind the horizon, making way for cool evening breezes, which poured off the waves. The music of the calm ocean matched the beat of his heart.
“Look,” Ian called. “Here they come.”
Jack sat up. His lassies splashed through the ebbing waves while Bella and Rose walked a little behind, both with deep baskets strapped to their backs to carry the day’s catch back to their croft. A slow smile curved Jack’s lips as he watched Bella approach. Water lapped her bare feet. The wind whipped her tunic against one side of her body, hugging her curves. His eyes traced along the outline of her sleek waist and the flare of her hip. Her hair, streaked with pale gold, lashed out behind her, lifting and tangling the in salty air. Her eyes locked with his. A smile, sweet and sensual, curved her lips as she drew closer. When she reached his side, she sank to her knees and pulled the basket from her shoulders. Then she lay her head on his chest. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her, more precious to him than anything he could have ever imagined. He wrapped his arm around her and stroked her hair.
She raised her head and looked at him, her pale green eyes luminescent next to her skin now deeply tanned by the sun. He grazed his fingers down her soft cheek and throat, then slowly over her shoulder. He frowned when he noticed a hole in the sleeve of her tunic. He absently picked at the frayed threads.
“Do ye miss yer life the way it was?” he said. “Yer fine tunics and servants.”
Her eyes widened for an instant and then grew serious. She cupped his cheeks between her hands. “You listen to me, Jack MacVie. All I want is you.” She sat up and pointed to Rose and the lassies trying to get as close to the waves as they could without getting wet. “And them,” she said, laughing. Then she jumped to her feet and spread her arms wide, smiling up at the heavens. “And this,” she cried. “Sandy shores, crashing waves, Jura’s mountains in the distance.” She plunked down in the sand once more and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to lay back on the sand.
“Look,” she cried. He followed her outstretched arm, pointing to the sky at a golden eagle soaring into the clouds. Then she touched his cheek, drawing his gaze. Her warm breath caressed his skin. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“For what,” he asked, his voice low.
“For giving me a wonderful life.”
About Lily Baldwin
Historical romance author, Lily Baldwin, loves writing, Scotland, her wonderful husband and beautiful young daughter—though not necessarily in that order. She has a BA in anthropology from the University of New Hampshire, and an MA in International Studies from Birmingham University in the UK. She daydreams constantly, and gets her best story ideas while running; she is even training for a half-marathon. She also finds inspiration in Nature, a quality revealed through the powerful description and drama in her books. Currently To Bewitch A Highlander, Highland Thunder, and To Love A Warrior (Books 1-3 of the Isle of Mull series) are available, and Lily is also the author of A Jewel In The Vaults one of the seven original novellas included in the Scrolls of Cridhe Bundle by the Guardians of the Cridhe, now available as a single novella. She also is the author of Scottish Paranormal Romance Highland Shadows (Beautiful Darkness Series, Book 1).
Lily lives in New England with her cherished husband and daughter.
To find more books by Lily Baldwin visit her website:
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Quinn: A Scottish Outlaw
Available for pre-order now -
The Highland Outlaw series continues with Quinn…
He is an outlaw…And the only man she can trust.
Quinn MacVie is in pursuit of a prize, but it is unlike any plunder he has stolen before. He seeks neither gold nor jewels, but something infinitely more valuable—Lady Catarina Ravensworth. Sent by the lady’s sister, who fears Catarina is in danger, Quinn’s mission is to steal the lady away from Ravensworth castle. But nothing there is as Quinn expected.
Lady Catarina has been accused of a horrific crime and is forced to run or face a fate worse than death.
But she is not alone.
Thief and Scottish rebel, Quinn MacVie, is at her side. With a price on her head, they must disappear into the wilds of the Scottish Highlands where the only thing greater than the danger following at their heels is the desire burning in their hearts.
More by Lily Baldwin
Highland Shadows (Beautiful Darkness Series, Book 1)
She is the beauty and the beast, and only he can soothe her…
In Alexander MacKenzie’s youth, his clan prospered. Until one night fire and death descended, and all that was good and green fled the ensuing darkness, leaving the MacKenzie clan impoverished, and Alex’s face severely scarred.
Known as the Mad Maid of Clan Ross, Cora has been imprisoned within her father’s keep for a decade, but not against her will—she is her own warden. Cora locked herself away to protect those she loves from what she has become. Within the shadows that blanket their land lurk vampires and wolves. They know Cora’s savage secret and have laid claim to her body. But the fight for her soul has only just begun, and only Alex’s love can save her.
A Jewel in the Vaults (Flights of Love Series, Book 1)
She has never met a man like him before. Then again, he has never met a lad like her.
In 1802, Edinburgh’s poverty-ridden Old Town is rife with danger, but it is the only home Robbie MacKenzie has ever known. To safeguard herself against the worst villains of the street, Robbie conceals her femininity behind her shorn hair, dirt-smeared face, and tattered breeches. To all the world she is a lad, but beneath the ruse is a woman aching to break free.
Leaving his beloved Highlands behind in pursuit of his prodigal brother, Conall MacKay journeys to Edinburgh. There, he solicits the aid of a young street lad named Robbie. But Conall soon realizes that there is more to both Robbie and Edinburgh’s Old Town than meets the eye.
In a world where wickedness governs and darkness reigns, a savage struggle for dignity, survival, and love begins.
The Isle of Mull Series
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br /> To Bewitch a Highlander (Book 1)
Isle of Mull, Scotland 1263
She will protect her identity with her very life if necessary. Who will protect her from herself?
Shoney’s lightning speed with a bow captures Ronan by surprise, and their chance meeting ends with him lying unconscious at the bottom of a ravine.
When he awakens, he cannot rid his mind of her startling beauty, her valor, or the secret fear he glimpsed in her steel eyes. He vows to find her, but as the mysteries of her identity unfold, his courage and heart are tested as never before.
Highland Thunder (Book 2)
Isle of Mull, Scotland 1296
A STORM IS COMING…
Although she faces tragic loss, Brenna will never succumb to grief or fear, nor will she surrender to the one man she despises—the very man who now has the power to control her destiny. Like the storms that rage unchecked over the moors, her fury is about to be unleashed.
A HIDDEN LOVE…
He does not look at her or speak to her, and most importantly, he does not touch her. These are the rules Duncan set for himself long ago to ensure his affection for his best friend’s wife remained undetected. But under the weight of a land besieged by war, the walls he erected to shield his heart crumble.
If he can earn her trust, the one woman he has always loved may at last be his. But first he must save what he cherishes most from a nightmare of dark secrets.
To Love a Warrior (Book 3)
Destinies unfold. Secrets are revealed. The Isle of Mull will be forever changed.
Half Highlander, half Viking, Garik MacKinnon was not born on the Scottish Isle of Mull, but fostered there in his youth. Now, he leaves behind his home, once more bound for Mull, to join the MacKinnon warriors as they answer Robert the Bruce’s call to arms. He is ready for battle, eager to fight for Scotland’s freedom. What he is not prepared for is his encounter with Nellore, a shield maiden from Mull, whose allure defies all reason.
Nellore has the strength and skill of a warrior but the heart of a woman. When the men are called away to war Nellore must aid those left behind to safeguard their village against attacks from the MacLeans—a feuding clan to the south. She understands her duty to her clan. She is ready to take up arms against the enemy if need be. What she is not ready for is the ache that fills her heart when war pulls Garik from her side.