Those words brought the room into focus. Everyone seemed to slow their eating, their attention solely on him. They were curious, he knew, but he could sense a twinge of worry from Jonet. No doubt, the solemn way he had spoken had not made things any better.
He twisted in his seat, wanting to face them all. He wished suddenly that Dougal were here as well because he had also been a victim of Matthew’s lies. Matthew had come here to seduce the pitiful Laird’s daughter, to marry her, but he had not realized that, in doing that, he would have to make her family love him as well.
“Aye and I daenae how to begin.”
The anxiousness from Jonet grew higher. She stopped eating and faced him fully.
Matthew looked at her. He took in her beautiful brown eyes, the black hair that blanketed her sun-kissed cheeks. The lovely shape of her lips, ones he had come to know as well as his own. Love exploded within him at the sight of her and with it came mindnumbing fear that he would lose the best thing that had ever happened to him in a second.
“All that I have told ye is a lie.” He spoke to them all, but he kept his gaze on her, watching as her eyes grew round as her brows dipped into a frown. “I am nae a wealthy merchant. I am an orphan who made me livin’ connin’ others of out their money and stealin’ from rich men who were foolish enough to give to me.”
Shock flooded those brown eyes. Matthew, afraid of what he might see next, looked away from her. At the Laird and his wife who were just as surprised.
“I wanted to put that life aside,” he went on. “I was tired of continuously bein’ on the run and always havin’ to look over me shoulder. So, when I heard of the Laird’s daughter, who nay one wanted to marry because of her curse, I thought that that was me chance.”
“Oh, dear,” Rinalda whispered. Matthew hardly heard her. His blood was rushing through his veins, every muscle in his body tensing.
“I thought that if I could get the Laird’s daughter to marry me then I wouldnae have to worry about anythin’. I would have the Lairdship to meself, the easy life that I had always wanted. I thought it would be a simple matter too, because I had expected a woman who was desperate to marry anyone who would ask for her hand.”
He swallowed past the lump in his throat and braced himself before he looked at Jonet again. Her eyes were expressionless. He took her hand in his. “I dinnae expect to find the most beautiful, the most spirited, the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. I realized soon enough that the plan I had come up with wouldnae work, and nae because ye were so against the thought of marryin’. I kent soon enough that I wouldnae be able to stop meself from fallin’ in love with ye. I dinnae care about the Lairdship anymore. I only cared about ye, about protectin’ ye, and I promise, Jonet, that all the promises I’ve made ye were nae lie. They came from the heart.”
Silence descended over them. Jonet only stared at him, blinking rapidly. Matthew could not tell if she was in shock or if she were fighting back tears.
The most surpring thing happened. Her lips twitched, as if she was actually holding back a smile. Matthew frowned, worried that she might be preparing to rip him to shreds. Not that he would not deserve it.
“I must say,” she murmured, looking down at their hands. “I dinnae expect ye to say any of that.”
Matthew held his breath. When she looked back up at him, he searched her eyes, hoping to see what she was thinking.
“I daenae care about all of that,” she smiled.
He did not dare to believe it. “Ye daenae?”
“I ken I should be upset that ye lied to me. But how can I when ye’re sitting here with a terrible wound in yer side after ye put yerself in harm’s way for me? After everythin’ ye’ve done to prove that ye love me, then it wouldnae make much sense for me not to believe yer words.” She placed her hand on his cheeks, smiling tenderly at him. “I love ye, Matthew. And I ken ye love me too. Yer intentions when we just met may have been deplorable but—”
Matthew’s heart thudded. “What is it?”
“Ye havenae hurt anyone, have ye?” she asked in a whisper, her eyes widening at the possibility.
“I’ve only conned rich, terrible men. Nae anyone who couldnae handle it, I assure ye.” Matthew quickly shook his head.
Her smile came back quckly. She grasped his face in both hands and planted a kiss on his lips. “Then yer past daesnae matter to me.”
“Nonsense!”
Matthew jolted at the Laird’s voice cracking throughout the room. Laird MacLagain’s face was almost as red as his hair. “I will nae have a common criminal as a son-in-law. One who’s lied to us since the moment he walked in here. Ye shall be thrown in the dungeons to rot—”
“Faither!”
“Dear,” Rinalda said calmly. “Perhaps ye should consider who Matthew is now. He’s apologized and is bringin’ his past to light. Isnae that worth somethin’?”
Matthew’s chest warmed at the way Rinalda defended him, but he knew it would not work, especially when the Laird shook hs head vehemently.
“If he’s fooled us once, Rinalda, he will fool us again. We cannae trust him.”
“Is that so? I wonder what might have happened had I said the same thing.”
The Laird looked sharply at his wife, who was calmly sipping her drink.
“Faither?” Jonet probed. She was gripping Matthew’s hand tightly. “What does she mean?”
“Nothin’.” The Laird cleared his throat. “It isnae the same. This is me daughter we are talkin’ about and I will nae have her marryin’ someone who doesnae respect her.”
“Faither, ye ken that isnae the truth,” Jonet protested.
“I understand that ye are wary of me, Me Laird,” Matthew spoke up. “And ye have every reason to be. What I did before… it’s what I had to do to get by. Me parents died when I was still only twelve and so I dinnae think I had any other options. But I was tired of that life, which was why I came here.”
“To trick us into havin’ ye marry me daughter.”
“Aye,” he said and Jonet looked sharply at him. He kept his attention on the Laird. “And I will regret that for the rest of me life. I understand if ye nay longer wish to have me here but I daenae think I could go another day without tellin’ ye all the truth. Now that I have, I only hope that ye will see me for who I truly am. I love yer daughter with all me heart, Me Laird, and I will do anythin’ for her.”
They were all looking at the Laird now, but the Laird’s eyes were on Matthew. The Laird gritted his teeth and then he returned his attention to his food, growling something under his breath.
Both Rinalda and Jonet smiled.
Jonet whispered up to him, “Take that as a good sign.”
“Does that mean…?”
“Aye, I think so. Thank ye for tellin’ me the truth, Matthew.”
“I couldnae marry ye without ye kenin’ everythin’ about me first.”
“There is somethin’ I need to tell ye, as well.”
Her sultry smile had a similar one rising in him. He did not care that they were siting at the same table as her parents. “Oh, what’s that?”
Jonet leaned into him, her eyes growing dark with lust. Her hand slid from his and a finger whispered across his groin, a promise, hidden under the table from view.
Her breath low, igniting the quiet flame within in, Jonet murmured, “I cannae wait to be yer wife.”
Epilogue
Two Months Later
Freya had escaped the Castle. The guards had been in a frenzy trying to find her and the Laird had worked himself into a fitful stress doing just the same.
Jonet had gone to Rinalda about it, worried for her father, and Rinalda had agreed to speak to him. Jonet decided she would no longer care about Freya, that she would not give her a sliver of her attention on a day so special. She hoped her father would too.
Her earsaid, in the burgundy and green colors of her clan, was wrapped around the cream dress that bloomed around her legs. Her hair had been styled in a series of
braids, similar to the one her mother had worn to her own wedding procession. Jonet was trembling with excitement and as she stared out the window. She pictured Matthew in his own room, filled the with same anticipation.
“I hope ye arenae thinkin’ about jumpin’,” came Christal.
Jonet huffed a laugh, lifting the heavy dress to turn around. Christal had been the one leading the charge of maids helping her prepare for her wedding. She had disappeared to fetch a few accessories Jonet was missing.
“I would choose a very bad time for it, daeneae ye think?” Jonet smiled.
“Aye, I think it would put a dampner on the mood once people realize they would have to scrape yer body off the ground.”
“Kind as always, Christal.”
Christal actually smiled as she pinned the brooch Matthew had given her to Jonet’s chest. Her tartan dress moved fluidly around her as she turned. Her heart warmed at the memory of the gift and she was even more eager to see him. They had needed to take a couple of months in order for him to fully recuperate before the wedding.
“Are ye ready?” Christal asked.
“I daenae think I’ve ever been so ready for anythin’ else in me life.”
“I’ll take that as an aye then.” Christal took Jonet by the arm and led her from the room.
The entire Castle was bustling with excitement. The servants had been up since the crack of dawn, preparing for the reception. Christal had been working through both of her positions that day, as the cook and as Jonet’s bridesmaid—and she had done splendidly. She looked lovely herself, wearing a dress in the clan colors, which was something Jonet had never seen before.
Jonet wanted to fill the silence with her nervous chatter, but her mouth was dry. The closer they drew to the courtyard, where the Laird had decided the wedding would be held, the more anxious she grew. It was the good sort of anxiousness, the one that filled her stomach with butterflies. To ease her mind, she thought of Matthew, of seeing his face as he stood there waiting for her.
It was all she could do now not to take off running toward him.
For such a time she had longed for this day, but she never thought it could possibly make her this happy. So many years ago, she had believed that Murdock was the one for her, that he was the love of her life. Yet now he paled in comparison to Matthew. To think that, after all the suffering in the darkness, there had been light in the distance.
The trip to the courtyard was a small one. There was a hum of chatter in the air, with almost the entire clan invited to the procession. Jonet did not see a single one of them. The moment she stepped outside with sunlight pouring over her face, she saw Matthew standing there, looking more handsome than she had ever seen him.
He was smiling, eyes twinkling. His blond hair swayed in the gently breeze that wafted over them, the colors of his kilt seemed even brighter than usual. His sporran, hung from his waist, jumped when he moved to take her with his left hand, pulling him to her side. Christal drifted into the background.
“Ye look beautiful,” he murmured down to her.
“And I’ve never seen ye look so handsome,” she whispered back.
“Is that so?” The sparkle of humor in his eyes was enough to drive away any remnants of her anxiousness. “And here I believed ye thought to me to be the most handsome man ye’ve ever kent.”
“Me statement still stands.”
He gripped her hands tighter, his eyes falling to her lips. They had to stay away from each other while he recovered, and Jonet was happy to see that it was affecting him just as much as it was affecting her.
The procession was short and precise. Once their vows were said, the Laird and Rinalda presented the quaich to them both at once, standing in the place of Matthew’s parents. They drank whiskey from it at the same time as Rinalda held the horseshoe Jonet had been given by Christal’s young son for good luck. Cheers rose into the air once the ceremony was over and Jonet almost felt like joining in. She ould not believe that she could now call Matthew her husband.
The march to the dining hall led by Jonet, Matthew, and her parents, was a loud and hearty one. Their steps seemed to move to the rhythm of their excitement, everyone eager to take part in the food, music, and dancing. Jonet too hoped to enjoy the festivities, but the need coiling inside her was much too potent.
“Somethin’ appears to be on yer mind, me love,” Matthew said to her once the ceilidh was well underway, not needing to whisper. People were already dancing and Jonet spotted Christal trying to teach Georgie how to dance without tripping over himself.
She could hardly smile at the sight. Matthew’s breath skittered across her skin and she shuddered, her need rising up to choke her.
“We shouldnae leave,” she took a large glup of the whiskey she held, ignoring the burn. “It’s our own weddin’.”
“Aye, which means we can do whatever we want.”
She was tempted. Oh, God did she want to leave with him. She took another large gulp. To suppress the urge.
“Ye have only just fully recovered.”
“The important word here is ‘fully’.” Matthew pulled her closer to his side, a grin spreading across his face. “I can see it in yer eyes, Jonet. I can see that ye want this as much as I do.”
Jonet looked up into his green eyes and felt herself give in. A large grin spread across her face.
“It would do no one any harm, I suppose.”
“Aye, that’s what I like to hear.”
Holding her hand, he steered her through the throng of celebrators until they were out into the hallway. It reminded her of the last time they had slipped out like this, when he had scooped her into his arms and carried her off to bed. This time, when he scooped her up, Jonet knew they would be doing little sleeping.
She could not hold herself back any longer. She kissed him. Wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him so deeply that his steps faltered. When she pulled away, his eyes were cloudy.
“Ye must want me to walk right into a wall,” he said, his voice suddenly thick.
“I ken ye can handle it.” Jonet smiled and stroked his cheek.
Handle it he did. His steps sure and quick, they made it to their bedroom where he laid her down on the bed. Desperate need clung to both their skins as they made a grab for each other, eager to get their clothes off.
Once their skin was bare, Matthew took charge. He was tender, but forceful, demanding and giving. His kisses were fiery, his lips drifting all over her body until Jonet was a panting mess. She clung to him, desperate to have every inch of him, but Matthew was committed to taking his time. He began his slow tease with his tongue and picked up the pace with his hands. He kept her pressed against the bed when she would writhe against him and as her hands seeked to touch him, he pinned them above her head.
He was a man in his element and would take when he was ready. Jonet was desperate, murmuring his name, desire rising up to choke her. Every touch, every kiss had her filled with unbridled passion that, when at last he gave it to her, she cried out his name.
Jonet clutched the sheets at the familiar feel of him, biting her lip to hold back her cries. He tilted her head, as if he wanted to look into her eyes when he saw her peak. She stared back at him, hands clasped around his neck, every thrust driving her higher and higher. Then she arrived.
It was not simple animalistic pleasure Jonet felt, but an entwining of their souls, her love rising to such a height that she thought she would never come back down. Jonet clung to him, Matthew gripped her, and together, they floated off into ecstasy.
After a while, they laid there, sated, and tangled in each other’s arms. Jonet rested her head on his chest, listening to his pounding heart slow to a dull thud.
“Did I tell ye that I love ye?” he asked, as she trailed an uneven pattern on his chest.
“I daenae think so,” she murmured.
His chuckle shook her entire body. “I love ye more than the stars, and moon and the world around us.”
“The
n can we hide out in here forever? Never to face that world?”
“If that is what ye wish, me love.” He kissed her on the top of her head.
Jonet smiled. It was easy to believe that the world did not exist when she was with Matthew. Yet, soon enough, she would have to face the life ahead of her. When for so long she had dreaded the very thought, now, Jonet could not wait for it.
The End?
Extended Epilogue
Highlander's Trials of Fire: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 27