How does one broach this subject without insultin’ a man’s pride? She hadn’t a clue. Being blunt and honest had served her well over the years and she prayed it would serve her now.
“Ye ken I be no’ an innocent lass who does no’ ken the way of lovin’,” she began.
Ian’s finger paused for a brief moment. “I ken ye have been married,” he replied rather abruptly. This was his wedding day and he would prefer that Rose not bring up any old memories of past lovers. She was his now and that was all that mattered.
Clearing her throat once, she pushed forward, broaching what she knew would be a difficult topic. “I ken there be times when a man can no’ hold himself back. He can get far too excited far too quickly.”
With his brow furrowed, he finally turned his attention to her face.
“I want ye to ken that I understand that. However, I also need ye to understand I’d prefer no’ to be left behind. This be me weddin’ day and I, too, have been lookin’ forward to it for a verra long while now.”
From the expression on his face, she could see he was confused.
“I was married once before, Ian,” she told him. She felt her face grow warm with embarrassment, but refused to back away from the topic. “I would like to ken aforehand, well, I be wonderin’, when ye, well, I—” Pausing for a moment, searching for the right words, she began to feel less confident. Especially when he was looking at her with such a confused expression. “If ye finish before me, how long do ye think ’twill be before ye can do it again?”
Understanding settled in quickly and his eyes grew wide with a blend of horror and insult. “Are ye inferrin’ that I’ll find me own pleasure before ye find yers?” He found the thought repulsive.
“Ye need no’ shout at me, Ian,” she told him. “I was married afore ye. And Almer explained the way of it to me and I’ll no’ fault ye fer somethin’ all men are afflicted with.”
He shook his head once, as if it would help him gain some clarity. Affliction? Fault? Not wanting to argue with his beautiful wife on their wedding day, he decided to practice some patience and not jump to any conclusions. “Please, pray tell, me love, what exactly did Almer explain to ye? To what affliction are ye referrin’?”
She did not for a moment believe he was as calm as he was trying to appear. Male pride, especially when it came to matters of loving, was not something any woman wanted to injure or insult. But he was at least making the attempt to have a civil conversation, so that had to count for something. “There were many times when Almer found his own pleasure before I was even under the covers. He explained ’twas an affliction that most men suffer from. He was very kind about it, ye ken, in helpin’ me to understand ’twas because he found me so beautiful that sometimes all he had to do was look at me and …” she let her words trail off to give Ian a moment to mull it over. “Now while I understood it and could no’ rightly blame him, ye see, I was still often left wantin’ a wee bit more if ye get me meanin’. Verra often afterwards, he would say ‘let me catch me breath lass and we’ll try again’. But then he’d fall asleep and ‘twould be days before we tried again.”
It took every ounce of strength and kindness he owned not to break down and laugh his fool head off. He knew that Rose had been all of fifteen when she married the much older Almer Gray. In truth, there had been a few times over the past year where Ian himself could very well have spilled his own seed just by looking at her. However, he was neither a young lad nor an auld man. Never in all his years had he ever left a woman wantin’ a wee bit more.
Not wanting to impugn her dead husband or tarnish the fond memories he knew she held for the man, Ian took a far more tactful approach. “As ye said, no’ all men suffer from that affliction,” he pointed out as he turned his attention back to the leather laces that stood between him and paradise. “I be no’ one of them. I can promise ye, that ye’ll never be left wantin’ a wee bit more.”
Rose quirked a brow and studied him for a moment. “Ye sound quite sure of yerself.”
“I am,” he said as he pulled the lace through the last grommet. “And I’ll be more than happy to prove it to ye.”
* * *
Intently, Ian slipped his hand through the opening of her dress, brushing his palm over her chemise and the taught peak of her breast. At which Rose sucked in a deep breath that in turn made him smile. Slowly, ever so slowly, he continued the sweet ministration as he stared at her face. She had closed her eyes, her lips formed a sensual, pouty ‘o’ as she lay on her back with her arms at her sides. When he ran the pad of his thumb over the bud, she arched her back and sucked in another deep breath.
Pressing his lips to her neck, nibbling the tender spot, he turned his attention to her other breast, showing it just as much attention as the first. When Rose tried to sit up, he tossed one leg over hers. “Wheest, wife. I am enjoyin’ meself.”
Short of breath, as if she’d just run across the entirety of Scotland, she said, “Let me get out of me dress.”
“No’ yet,” he whispered against her neck.
Slowly, he moved his hand down her stomach before returning to her plump breasts. All the while, he trailed kisses from her ear to that very soft and tender spot at the base of her throat.
While she could certainly appreciate his attempts at warming her to the idea of joining, she would have much preferred to be done with the warming part and get straight to the joining part. All thoughts of hurrying, however, fell to the wayside when he took her breast into his mouth.
Had Almer ever paid such attention to her breasts? Nay, she was quite certain he hadn’t, at least not in the manner in which Ian was. Wickedly, he licked and twirled and flicked his tongue across the peak wondrously. Her stomach felt warm, her legs as sturdy as water, all the while her heart pounded against her chest.
With her attention focused on what he was doing to her breast, she hadn’t realized he had taken his leg away from hers, allowing his free hand to make it’s way under her dress and chemise until she felt his fingertips caress her inner thigh as softly as a butterfly against her cheek. Tenderly, he drew his fingers up and down her thigh, all the while he suckled at her breast.
’Twas torture, to be certain. But wickedly delightful torture.
He found the nub at the apex of her legs and ’twas all she could do not to fly from the bed. Nay, Almer had never done that.
Ian chuckled against her skin and whispered something. She couldn’t hear him over the pounding of her heart or her own heavy breathing. Filled with that all too familiar aching need, she was soon begging him not to stop.
Blessedly, he didn’t. He continued with his ministrations as he whispered sweet words against her skin. The ache built as he kissed the tender skin from her neck to her breast until her release hit with such intensity she thought her heart would explode.
Out of breath with her heart pounding and her body pulsing and throbbing, she could not help but smile. He gave her no time to bask in the warm sensations for he was soon lying atop her. “I promised I would no’ leave ye behind,” he whispered with a good measure of pride and devilishness.
Nay, not once for the remainder of the afternoon, did he leave her behind.
* * *
Dawn had come and gone while they slept wrapped up in one another’s arms. Rose’s blond hair was tousled, splayed across her pillow as well as Ian’s shoulder, where she rested her head. Ian woke first, immediately taking delight in the knowledge that he would wake next to this lovely woman each and every day for the rest of their lives. Hopefully, they’d live to be one hundred.
Closing his eyes, he listened to her soft breaths that tickled against his chest. ’Twas remarkable he could draw such comfort from something so simple as listening to someone breathe. ’Twas also remarkable how anyone as wee as his wife could bring him to his knees with just a smile or seductive word.
The more he thought on what had transpired betwixt the two of them last night, the more intent he became on having her again. H
e knew it probably wasn’t proper to join with his wife five times in less than a day, but he cared not. He’d never grow tired of hearing her soft sighs, the moans of pleasure, or hearing her call out his name when she found her release.
With a featherlight touch, he began to caress her bare arm with his fingertips. She mumbled something incoherent and snuggled in closer to his side. Feeling mischievous, he took a long strand of her hair, using it to tickle the tip of her nose. She swatted it away with a sleepy hand. Resisting the urge to chuckle, he tickled her again.
This time when she swatted the imaginary fly, she ended up slapping his chin and cursing. “Go away, bloody fly.”
’Twas impossible for him not to chuckle outright.
Ian was more than ready to love his wife again when Frederick called out to him behind the door. When Ian did not answer, his brother began pounding on it relentlessly.
“Need I remind ye it be me weddin’ night!” Ian shouted from the bed, hopeful that his brother would take the hint and leave. Turning his attention back to more pleasurable pursuits, he pressed his lips to Rose’s.
“That was last night,” Frederick called back to him. “It be a new day, brother!”
While Rose found a measure of humor in her new brother-by-law’s jest, Ian grew more frustrated. “Go away, Frederick!” he called to the door. To his wife, he said, “I have more thrillin’ adventures to tend to.”
The pounding continued.
“He will no’ go away,” Rose told him. “Ye ken that.”
With a heavy sigh of resignation and a muffled curse, he jumped from the bed and, as naked as the day he was born, stomped to the door and yanked it open.
He wasn’t prepared to see his sister-by-law standing next to his brother. Aggie shrieked with embarrassment, her eyes as wide as trenchers, before quickly turning away from him. Ian burned red with shame.
“Fer the sake of Christ, Ian, cover yerself!” Frederick boomed. “Ye haven’t shown yer wanker to this many people since ye were a wean!” He was, of course, referring to the events of yester afternoon.
Hurrying to the bed, Ian attempted to grab a blanket to cover himself. Rose, consumed now with laughter, pulled the covers from his grasp. “Need I remind ye, ye took an oath yester afternoon?” Ian asked through gritted teeth.
“Would ye prefer yer brother see me naked?” she coyly asked before bursting into another fit of giggles.
“I’d prefer to see neither of ye naked!” Frederick called from the doorway. He took note that his wife was not so much embarrassed as she was amused. Her shoulders shook and he knew it was taking a good effort not to allow her concealed laughter to escape.
Having found his plaid and covered himself respectfully, Ian told his brother ’twas safe to enter.
Rose quit laughing and shot him an angry glare. He knew very well she didn’t have a stitch of clothing on under those blankets. He returned her glare with a look that said all be fair in love and war.
“Is yer wife dressed?” Frederick asked. He was always the smarter one.
Ian rolled his eyes toward the doorway. “Give us a moment.”
* * *
While Frederick and Aggie waited patiently in the hallway, Rose and Ian hurried to dress. “What does he want?” Rose asked as she pulled her chemise over her head.
“I do no’ ken, but it sounds verra important.” Admittedly, his curiosity was piqued. But when he caught sight of his wife’s bare thigh as she pulled on woolens, his thoughts turned away from his brother’s important news to Rose’s soft, creamy flesh.
It had better be important, he mused with a curse. Knowing the pleasures he could find with Rose, he was reluctant to let anyone interfere. Still, were it not for Frederick’s interference, they would never have been married. He owed his older brother a great deal at the moment. Giving Frederick a wee bit of his time seemed wise.
Once they were dressed, Ian opened the door to let his brother and sister-in-law inside. With a wide flourish, he said, “Welcome to our castle, brother. What is mine is yers. Though I dare say that be no’ much at the moment.” Smiling broadly, he went on to add, “We’ve made piece with the mice. What they lack in might, they make up for in food. ’Twas a peace accord made out of necessity.”
Rose laughed at his jest. “They’ve far better food stores than we, the little buggers.”
Aggie found their light humor infectious and could not help but laugh as Ian offered her a seat. A wobbly, three-legged stool. “Ye may take me throne, me Queen.”
Aggie giggled and rolled her eyes. “I see marriage has yet to rid ye of that boyish sense of humor,” she said as she sat down.
Ian leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Did ye expect it to?”
Frederick let loose with a short, frustrated sigh. Crossing his arms over his chest, he said, “Ian, we need to talk and it be a verra serious matter.”
Ian’s smile faded as his brow furrowed. His first thought was that the Camerons were on the offensive and preparing to lay siege once again to the Mackintosh keep. Dread began to displace his good humor.
Sensing his unease, Rose came to stand next to him. “What be the matter?”
Frederick went to stand next to his wife. He placed a hand on her shoulder. Aggie smiled wanly as she patted it. Something unspoken passed between them. ’Twas a language Ian had witnessed countless times before but could never understand.
“We’ve a proposition fer ye both,” Frederick said.
“While it was an easy decision to come to, it be no’ made lightly,” Aggie added.
Ian and Rose were equally intrigued but remained silent.
“As ye ken, Aggie’s father-by-blood is here. He be quite fond of her.” He gave his wife’s shoulder another gentle squeeze before adding, “As I knew he would be.”
Aggie smiled ever so slightly. Rose sensed something was wrong. “Aggie? Why do ye no’ seem happy?”
“I am happy that he is fond of me,” Aggie replied. “He is a good man. I fear I was no’ quite prepared to like him as much as I do. But there is more to it than just the two of us bein’ fond of each other.”
“Such as?” Rose asked.
“’Tis a verra long story,” Aggie said in a low tone. “But apparently, I have just inherited a grand keep with much land. It be a three-day ride from McLaren lands.”
“That is wonderful news!” Rose exclaimed. “I be so verra happy fer ye.”
Frederick and Aggie stared at one another for a long moment as silence filled the room. If either Ian or Rose had just been gifted a grand keep and lands, Ian imagined they’d be dancing around like fools. He found their reaction quite odd.
Frederick was the first to speak. “Aggie has grown quite fond of Mackintosh lands.”
“And her people,” Aggie added.
Frederick smiled at her fondly. “And her people,” he said. “But this is an opportunity neither of us feel we should ignore or walk away from.”
“And ye’d like us to go with ye?” Ian asked with a broad smile. He was never one to back down from an adventure.
“Nay,” Frederick said. “Ye’ll no’ be goin’ with us.”
It took less than a heartbeat for everything to sink in for Ian. “Ye’ll be leavin’ us.” His voice was nothing more than a stunned whisper. It hurt that Frederick no longer wanted him at his side as his second in command, his friend. He clenched his jaw tightly. How could his brother not want him to go along? It made no sense.
“Not until next spring,” Frederick said. “Ada is far too young and weak yet to make such an arduous journey.”
Of all his brothers, Frederick was by far his most favored. He was Ian’s closest friend and ally, and next to their father, the one man Ian admired above all others. To learn he would be leaving and he was not welcome hurt his heart as much as the punches Frederick had inflicted just two days ago.
“Of all our brothers, ye be the one I love the most,” Frederick said unexpectedly. “Though I trust all of me brothers with me
life and the lives of me wife and children, ye be the one I trust most to do what we are about to ask.”
Ian’s head and heart began to feel like an inflated pig bladder being kicked around the hills by heavy-footed children. “I fear I do no’ understand ye,” Ian said betwixt clenched teeth. “Trust me to do what?”
Frederick stood a bit taller. “We want ye to be chief of Clan McLaren.”
* * *
Rose gasped aloud while Ian stood dumbfounded. Quite certain he had not heard Frederick correctly, he said, “Ye want me to do what?”
“We want ye to return to McLaren lands, ye and Rose. We want ye to rebuild the keep, build a band of warriors, and as their chief, to reestablish the clan as a whole.”
Aye, Ian had heard him correctly. Still, that did nothing to dull his utter astonishment. He ran a hand through his blonde locks and began to pace about the small room. “Me?” he said to no one in particular. “Ye want me to be the McLaren?”
Frederick gave a short nod. “We do. We would like ye to help build a legacy we can leave to Ailrig.”
“Ailrig?” Ian asked.
“By rights, McLaren lands would be his to inherit when he be old enough. Aggie and I had planned on returnin’ next year to begin rebuildin’. But her blood father’s gift? ’Tis Aggie’s by right of birth as well. We would like to go there and claim that legacy fer Aggie and fer Ada. I can no’ be in both places at once. McLaren lands need ye more than I at the moment.”
Ian studied Aggie for a long moment. When he’d met her more than a year ago, she’d been a very poor, mute young woman raised by a most brutal man. My, how things had changed. She’d gone from having less than nothing to not one, but two keeps and the lands that went with them.
“So I would be temporary chief?” Ian asked for clarity’s sake.
Frederick chuckled softly. “’Twill be many a year before Ailrig be ready to claim it as his own. I ken this be a tremendous undertakin’, Ian. To ask ye to build somethin’ ye’d never be able to pass to yer own children.”
Ian's Rose: Book One of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 6