Meriel’s eyes popped open wide. “Aye. We were just deciding to have it at my home—Caireoch. But we both still want you to perform the ceremony.” Father Lanaghly’s smile broadened. “But . . . but . . . how did you know?”
Father Lanaghly eyed the grass embedded in her braid. He knew of only a couple of ways that could happen. He doubted she had been rolling with the children down the hills, so that left one likely option. “Oh, I have my ways.”
Chapter 11
Thump! Thump!
Meriel tried to ignore the pounding sound outside Caireoch Castle as she bent over the chest, praying the thread she wanted to give one of the weavers was inside. If it was not there, she had no idea where it could be. Her room was a nightmare. Before she had left for McTiernay Castle, she knew where every scrap of yarn, material, and thread was buried. Then Raelynd had ransacked her room under some pretense that she was organizing it. Meriel had yet to decide just how she was going to return the “favor,” but making a mess of Raelynd’s bedchamber did not seem very imaginative, nor would it create the same level of frustration.
Meriel reached the bottom of the chest, but the thread remained lost. “Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diab-hal an cat,” she muttered to herself, wishing her sister could overhear her. Meriel was not prone to cursing, but Raelynd liked cats, and sending one to the devil felt a little cathartic.
Meriel found the orderly state of her room to be highly annoying, but she was most peeved with her sister for not living up to her promise to look after the weavers and the seamstresses. After a week of dealing with friends and family and guests, today was the first time she had had a chance to truly sit down and meet with the women who kept the castle and villagers clothed and warm. What she had learned was that her sister had done an abysmal job, and that was being kind. Meriel understood that Raelynd had been sick during much of her absence, but not one weaver had been given a single shred of instruction! And yet her sister had found the time to come into her room and ruin everything by putting it all up and out of sight. But for the people who made the blankets, the tapestries, most of the basic needs of the castle and village . . . nothing. Raelynd had never involved herself with such matters before, so she decided it was easiest not to interfere. As a result, the weaving and sewing staff had just continued with the last direction Meriel had given. Fortunately, that was to make blankets for the winter.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Meriel pushed to her knees and rose to her feet to go to the open window. She looked down, and from what she could see, the wrecked cart that had earlier created quite the stir in the bailey when it had collided into several barrels of fresh ale, remained broken despite all the banging. She glanced up into the cloudless sky. The afternoon sun was beginning its downward path, but there were still a few hours of light left in the day. The cool weather had been unusually beautiful for late fall, growing cold only at night.
Thump! Thump!
With a scowl, she reached over to close the window, hating that she had to choose between a stifling room and a headache. Just as she clicked the shutter into place, she found herself being whisked into the air. “Craig, wherever did you come from?”
“My mother, originally.” She swatted his shoulder. Thump! Thump! Craig arched a brow at the muted but still irritating sound. “It’s no wonder you did not hear me come in. But no matter now,” he said, heading toward the open door of her room.
Meriel leaned over and began to nibble playfully at his neck. “Such a surprise to see you so early. I feared it would be long after dark before you could return.”
As commander of Schellden’s army as well as her father’s elite guard, Craig’s responsibilities were many. Their army was still depleted after losing many in the costly war with the English. Until they had replenished most of their numbers, his days would be long and draining. “Aye, I probably should still be out there, but you and I have had plans for this particular day since our wedding night.”
As Craig descended down the stairwell, Meriel realized he intended to step outside with her still in his arms. She began to squirm. “Wait, just what are you doing?”
A bemused smile took over his lips. “I believe I am carrying you.”
“I mean it, Craig! Answer my question . . . and . . . is your shirt wet?” she asked as her mind took a sudden turn, realizing that he was more than just damp with sweat.
“Aye. I jumped in the river before coming to get you. The state of my leine would have rendered the effort of washing my body useless, so I left it on. Lucky for you to be married to such an intelligent Highlander.”
She had married a madman, she decided. It was practically winter, and though the weather had yet to become bitter and cold, it was cool enough for one to become quite chilly if wet—which she was quickly becoming as he held her in his arms. Meriel was about to say as much when she noticed that Craig was not carrying her to somewhere inside the bailey. He was headed to the gatehouse.
Meriel started to struggle in earnest. “Craig! Just what is going on?”
When he answered her with nothing more than a satisfied grin, she gave up and settled down in his arms. Only then did he offer her an explanation. “I’m taking you to our home. A week ago, your father watched us marry and then afterward proceeded to act as if it had not even happened.”
Meriel bit her bottom lip, remembering. Her father had been far from surprised by the news that she and Craig were in love and had decided to marry. Moreover, he had been pleased knowing that both his daughters were marrying good men that not only came from an allied clan, but were ones he respected and already considered family. But his happiness vanished the moment Craig mentioned that he intended to take Meriel and move out of the castle and into his cottage. Rae Schellden might not have minded gaining a son, but he was not amenable to losing a daughter, and he made his feelings known on the matter. With the wedding in potential jeopardy of being postponed, Craig agreed to spend one week at Caireoch. As of that morning, their first week of marriage had passed.
“Rae needs to recognize that you are my wife first and his daughter second.”
Meriel doubted her father would ever accept ranking second in anything, but she could not argue with Craig about the principle. “You speak as if living at Caireoch has been awful.”
Craig twitched his lips. Residing in her old bedroom had sounded quite horrific at first, but it had been surprisingly comfortable. The room took practically the whole floor, so space was abundant. Still, he and Meriel were married, and he wanted them to live and sleep in their home. Mostly, he wanted privacy—something he was sure they would not have if things remained as they were. “How I feel about Caireoch is beside the point. The last of my family left this morning, and it is time for you and me to act like husband and wife.”
“We have been—and quite often—if my memory is accurate,” she teased.
“You know what I mean,” he growled as he entered the village.
Meriel swallowed. They were becoming quite the spectacle, and Craig was either enjoying being the center of attention or oblivious to the stares. “Put me down,” she hissed.
“I fully intend to carry my bride to our home and put her down after we cross the threshold.”
“People are staring.”
“Aye, I do believe they are.”
Meriel inhaled sharply. “Put me down, Craig. Everyone knows we are married and have been for several days. So I do not think there is any need for you to follow tradition and hide my ‘enthusiasm’ by carrying me into our home.”
Craig shrugged. “Maybe I need to hide mine.”
Meriel gave a quick nod and a wave to two of the women weavers she had just spent hours with that afternoon. If she survived the humiliation, she was going to be a widow by her own hands. Then, seeing smoke rise from one of the cottages, she asked, “What about food? I did not think we would be coming to your cottage—”
“Our cottage.”
“Our cottage tonight. What are w
e going to eat?”
Craig shrugged his shoulders dismissively and looked down at her. “When we get hungry, I’ll run up to the kitchens and get us something.”
He was smiling, and not just any one of the grins he typically wore. It was the same one Raelynd had been wearing practically since the moment of their arrival. “You look almost as smug as my sister. You realize that she actually believes she is the reason why we are married.”
“Aye, Raelynd is a little self-satisfied, but after the past few nights of enjoying you in my bed, I can forgive her for being so infuriatingly right.”
Meriel opened and then closed her mouth. She could try reminding him that it was she who suggested the type of kiss that sparked the realization of their attraction. And that it was she who mustered the nerve to leave and that it was she who did all the planning and made the effort that successfully outsmarted one of the Highlands’ craftiest strategists. But she knew it would do no good. If Craig was going to give anyone credit for their coming together, he would give it to himself, for what he termed his “heroic” patience the afternoon he finally admitted he loved her.
“You say that now,” Meriel warned. “But after a year or two of Raelynd taking all the credit for our happiness, I expect my being in your bed is not going to seem quite the worthwhile prize it currently does.”
Craig pulled her slightly closer. He would have argued with her, for he had no doubt whatsoever that even after a few decades, nothing would compare with holding her as they fell asleep in each others’ arms. But there was no time. They had arrived at their destination. Kicking the cottage door open, he carried her inside and slowly lowered her to her feet before closing his mouth over hers, searing her lips.
When she finally eased away, she turned around, instantly glad that he could not see her pained expression. The three-room cottage was large compared to most in the village, and despite his grumblings that he had no need of the space, it had been given to Craig because of his position. One entered into a long main room. A large window next to the front door allowed light to shine down on the large table and its accompanying four chairs. In the middle was the kitchen area, with a hearth large enough to warm the entire cottage as well as cook family-size meals. In the back of the room, farthest from the entrance, was a sitting area consisting of a large, thick rug and two padded chairs similar to the ones in the McTiernay and Caireoch Great Halls, just not of the same quality.
On the left wall were two doors. The closet was wide open and led to a small space that had probably been intended for a bedroom, but was being used by Craig to house an array of items, mostly associated with weapons and horses. And while she and Craig were not exactly two people who cared about tidiness and organization, it suddenly dawned on her that there was one significant difference in the kind of mess they created—his mess included dirt.
Meriel took it all in, examining every corner, every piece of furniture, shelf, and storage nook. Nothing was left uncovered or free for use. It was not that she had expected the place to be clean; however, she had assumed Craig would have picked up a little before bringing his bride home. But, if anything, the cottage was even more chaotic than she remembered. The only things that belonged to her were the few bags she had taken to the McTiernays. Seeing them stacked in a far corner of the spare room made her feel like a visitor, not a mistress.
Craig undid his leather belt, simultaneously freeing not only his sword but his tartan. Tossing the large metal weapon onto the kitchen table with a resounding thump, he let the kilt fall to the floor, not caring what potential muck it might have landed on. Grabbing the string on the back of his calf, he yanked the tie to loosen the leather so he could slip his shoe off. After freeing his other foot, he grasped her wrist and walked through the kitchen to the back sitting area.
As she followed him, Meriel was able to quickly spy the second room, which she already knew to be the main bedroom. As expected, it was both very large and very messy, but thankfully the bed was the one place where Craig had not piled anything.
Craig stopped beside a chair and brushed off the two leather straps coiled on the seat, letting them fall to the floor. Meriel moved to occupy the second chair but was stopped by his hand on her wrist, still secure in Craig’s grasp. He gave it a soft tug and when she got close enough, he picked her up and placed her comfortably across his legs. “I thought we could at last resume our nightly chats, talk about our day, plans for the morrow, or whatever we wanted.”
Meriel leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I don’t remember ever doing so from your lap before.”
“I clearly recall you telling me how you were reluctant to resume old habits. I am just trying to be obliging,” Craig responded with feigned innocence.
Meriel chuckled and kicked off her own shoes. She decided to ignore the disorder surrounding her and focus on the positives of finally being completely alone with her husband. “So how are your men? And Callum? Is he faring well?” she asked before she took his earlobe between her teeth.
Craig sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. “Um, Callum, he is doing well,” he lied. He had selected the young man to be his second-in-command, knowing he was new to leadership of any kind. But leaving an inexperienced second-in-command in charge for such a long period had caused some issues. Still, the man was honest, fair, extremely smart, and had a gift for instructing men. His ability to plan did not come as naturally as it did to Craig, but he was learning fast.
Meriel swirled her tongue in his ear. “Tell me more.”
She was daring him to talk during her sensual assault and Craig knew he had to rise to the challenge, otherwise Meriel would realize the power she had over him. “Callum needs only confidence and experience. I . . . umm . . . I mean he unfortunately had neither when I left.” Losing the battle, Craig changed tactics, pulling her back so that he could kiss her neck. “Though I think . . . the lessons he encountered he . . . will not have to relearn. Still, it might not be a . . . good idea for me to leave for an extended period for a while.”
Meriel stretched her neck, giving him better access. “That sounds nice,” she moaned.
“Aye, nice,” he repeated.
Meriel tried to sit back and stroke his cheek. “I mean it. While I hope we will go and visit your other brothers someday, I’m glad to be home.”
Craig pulled down the collar of her gown to give him access to her shoulder. “They can come here from now on.”
“Now, that would not be fair. Besides, I want to meet Makenna. The way you describe her and your brother Colin, I cannot imagine the two together.”
Craig traced her bottom lip with his thumb, still finding it hard to believe just how happy he was. “It is hard to imagine. And yet, they are a lot like Conor and Laurel. After seeing them together, you have no doubt they are with the one person in the world who can make them happy.”
Meriel rested her head on his shoulder and smiled. Craig, the most outgoing and loquacious of all the McTiernays, was at his most romantic when he talked about his feelings using surrogates.
Craig kicked the bridle he had just tossed on the rug and a saddle sitting in the middle of the floor to give his feet some room to stretch out. “Even for me, this place is too cluttered. But you are mostly to blame for it being this bad.”
“Me?” Meriel inquired as she played with the opening of his leine.
Craig pulled her closer, enjoying the feel of her head resting on his shoulder and her fingers running through the hair on his chest. His hand moved to cup her breast and once there, drew around her nipple. “Aye,” he finally answered. “When you left me all alone, I did not seem to be in the mood to do much of anything, including tidying up the place.”
Meriel slid her hand farther inside his shirt, enjoying the feel of his muscles moving. She would never get enough of touching him. “I heard you yelled a lot.”
“I might have raised my voice a little. But I am sure it was warranted.”
Meriel sat up and t
hey locked gazes. There were touches of humor around his mouth and already the beginning of wrinkles near his eyes. His face held a wealth of inherent strength, but now a vulnerability lay there too. This man truly loved her and needed her.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she urged his mouth down to hers. “You can clean up your things later.”
“Why not now?” he teased.
She hardly needed to answer, for she could feel the evidence of his distraction hard against her thigh, and it only added to her own growing need. “Because,” she whispered, tracing the strong line of his jaw with two fingers as she rocked her hips against him once, then twice, smiling as it produced a moan, “I fully intend to remind you of why marriage is oh, so good a thing.”
Needing no further encouragement, Craig rose from the chair in one quick movement and gathered her into his arms. In a few quick steps, they were in the bedroom.
Placing her bare toes on the floor, his hands began to unfasten her gown, and in one swift motion it fell to the floor, leaving only her chemise. The candlelight cast a warm glow over her, and once again he was awestruck that she was really his. “You’re beautiful.”
She loved the way he stared at her, the passion and desire flaming in the depths of his eyes. “And you’re absolutely smitten with me.”
The love in her eyes was bright and clear, and he knew it would last him his whole life. “I’m beyond smitten,” he said, yanking her close. “I’m bewitched, and I pray never to be cured.”
His fingers curled around her ribcage and his thumbs began to massage her nipples into hard peaks through the fabric. Needing to see and touch her soft skin, he eased the sleeves down her shoulders and let the undergarment pool about her waist. Lovingly his gaze swept over her face before finding the last bow securing her chemise and with one tug broke it free.
Meriel looked up at him, feeling no awkwardness for her lack of clothing. She had nothing to hide from this man. Craig quickly threw off his leine and he stepped back, allowing her eyes to caress his body with their loving gaze. Her desire was evident when she glanced over his straining manhood.
Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05] Page 27