Love For A Reluctant Highland Lass (Blood of Duncliffe Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)

by Emilia Ferguson

  In addition, she absolutely didn't know what would happen there.

  She felt heat fill her belly, tingling with excitement. She couldn't explain it, but it felt as if her body knew secrets she didn't, and its longing was entirely a thing of its own. She looked up at Garrick, his fine profile lit by the candlelight – the days were darkening fast, this time of year – and felt the excitement grow.

  It seemed as if he felt it too, because he turned to her and the smile on his face was something new, a new edge to it, a new intensity in him.

  She swallowed hard and set down her cup. Under the table, she felt his hand stray to her own, where it rested on her knee against the velvet. She looked up and he smiled innocently, and then leaned back. She tried not to grin, but knew she couldn't hold it back much longer.

  His foot moved close to hers. She felt as if he was leading her in a delicious race with an inevitable ending her body knew, but she didn't.

  The first course – a soup of winter greens – came around. It was delicious and she tried to concentrate on the taste, and the scattered conversation around her, a counterpoint to the rising excitement inside her.

  She felt Douglas' foot twitch against hers, and looked up to find him with a wry smile on his face. “I need help,” he mouthed across the table. “Which spoon do I use?”

  She saw his hand straying to the dessert spoon. “Not that one, dearest,” she advised, whispering the words. “This one.”

  She lifted her spoon to show him what it looked like – a slightly different shape. He raised a brow and found it, glancing up at her again with a shy grin.

  Ettie looked down, touched to see her beautiful, fighting man in a tender moment.

  Course followed course, and glance across the table followed glance, so by the time they reached the honey and the nuts, the cheeses and the late apples, the longing was intense.

  At that moment, Douglas stood. “Friends of Duncliffe,” he greeted airily. Everyone roared with approval. “I must announce that I find myself weary. I'll take myself to bed now. Do stay to feast as you will.”

  Ettie felt a tingle of excitement as the roars of approval washed over from the floor again – the party on the dais would all retire to bed now. She glanced at Lady Marguerite beside her, who had pushed back her chair, getting ready to leave.

  She heard the hall growing raucous and looked up at Marguerite, suddenly nervous.

  “Douglas told them there's to be no bedding ceremony,” Marguerite said quickly. “You can follow us out and go directly up. Glenbrook will show you up.”

  Ettie let out a sigh of relief. That was something she hadn't even realized she was nervous about – the raucous, often crude commentary of the crowd as they were escorted to the chamber where they'd spend their first night together. Trust Marguerite to know! She squeezed her hand, touched. “Thank you for...everything,” she whispered.

  Marguerite smiled fondly. “Nonsense, Ettie. You saved my life! I couldn't do less than this.”

  Ettie swallowed, trying not to cry. She stood as the rest of the party did, and as she did so felt Garrick's hand gently touch her own. They headed down the stairs and out into the hallway. Then Glenbrook appeared, to lead them to the bedchamber.

  Her heart beat fast with excitement and her whole body felt as if it were awash with a fire of longing. They walked up the stairs behind Glenbrook, together.

  The fire was lit in the grate of the turret room. It was one Marguerite seldom used, out of the way of the rest of the household. Ettie felt her heart start to thump in her chest, excitement and wariness mixing together there.

  She paused at the threshold, swallowing hard, as Garrick opened the door. The scent of beeswax tapers and lavender hit her with their honeyed warmth.

  She felt her fingers tingle and nervously clasped her hands. She looked up at Garrick, whose eyes shone. He nervously wet his lips.

  “I...I think I'm supposed to go in first. Lead you across.”

  His voice was a little tense, his eyes wary. Ettie realized he was just as scared as her, if not more so. The realization made her feel even more loving. She nodded. “If you go first, take my hand,” she said.

  Garrick pushed the door open, and then turned to grip her fingers. Together their adventure began.

  She followed him across the threshold, heart thumping fast. The instant he was in, he put his hands on her shoulders, kissing her. The fires that had been dormant all evening suddenly rose to a blazing inferno inside Ettie. She pressed her body to his, loving the way the lean hardness of him felt, pressed to her softness. They melded together, his lips caressing hers. She felt a strange urgent feeling begin in her lower abdomen, rising through her body, making her want to hold him closer, to press her lips to his loving mouth.

  He leaned back, gasping. His hand was on her cheek and his eyes looked into hers with a sort of intense desperation that called up its counterpart within her.

  Sighing, she leaned against him and their bodies moved together, each wanting to hold the other tighter, to make the moment last longer.

  He kissed her again, this time more clinging, slower. She felt her passion extend. He leaned back, then, and looked into her eyes.

  “Ettie...if you want...only if you want...”

  She smiled. “I want this,” she whispered.

  Together, they fell back onto the bed.

  The kiss was urgent again, her lips clinging to his. He was lying a little above her, his body pressing down on hers with an insistent weight. Something inside her knew what she wanted, knew that feeling him lying on her was something she needed with every nerve and vessel of her body.

  He leaned down against her, pressing her back into the mattress. She could feel the sweet weight of him against her breasts, and somehow the gentle pressure was a sweeter urgency. He clung to her as desperately as she did to him. She reached for him, wrapping him tight in her arms. His lips moved away from hers and he looked down into her eyes, concern wary in their dark depths.

  “I...you are sure, aren't you?” he said tenderly. “I don't want to make you afraid.”

  Ettie laughed, soft warmth spreading through her to suffuse her whole being. “You could never make me afraid,” she said softly, and knew that it was absolutely true. She had fought beside Garrick, held him when he was wounded, rescued and been rescued by him. He was the sureness at her shoulder, the rock under her feet. She could never be afraid of him.

  His wary look evaporated, replaced with an intensity of feeling that touched her. He kissed her gently, and then reached behind her neck to where the buttons started, concealed down the back of the dress. The first one parted under his gentle fingers, making Ettie shiver.

  Gradually, one button at a time was undone, until she had to turn to let him reach the last one. The dress was unfastened now, and he lovingly slid it off her body, ending at her feet.

  That left her in a silk under-dress, this time an easier thing to remove, with fewer clasps. Then, under that, the under-things. Then she was naked.

  She lay back on the bed again, looking up at him where he knelt, looking down. His eyes moved over her body and, instead of shyness, she felt a sweet joy she had never felt, as his loving eyes moved from her face to her feet and back again, lingering intensely at hips and breasts. It felt as if every part of her they touched ignited with warmth. He reached out and gently touched her, his touch as gentle as the way he would handle a priceless piece of china – appreciative, gentle, and acknowledging of its preciousness. She felt cherished and it made her swallow hard.

  She tingled as his hand moved lower from her waist, to her hips. His focused intensity seemed tinged with nerves and so she smiled at him, feeling playful. “I am getting cold here, without my day-things,” she said. “I think you might join me – it's only fair.”

  He laughed, eyes alight with merriment, relieving the tension. He nodded. “I think that is a very fine idea.”

  With that, he was taking off his clothes with a rapidity she wouldn'
t have thought possible. She watched him appreciatively as he did. She had seen men naked before – patients of the healers – but never looked at them this way before. He was, she had to admit, quite beautiful.

  She studied his chest, seeing the way the firelight played on the musculature, admiring his broad shoulders, his lean back, and she looked up to find him looking at her. He was nervous, it seemed, his face an uncertain flush. She held out a hand. “Come to me, my beautiful man.”

  He went red, his eyes softening with joy. Then he chuckled, self-consciously, and lay down beside her. The part of his anatomy she had noticed as different to her seemed to have a life of its own, she noticed with some amusement. It pressed against her in a way that had an urgency she felt, but didn't truly grasp.

  He smiled, the embarrassed look back on his face. “I think...I hope...you won't mind, but...”

  She smiled and rolled over, reaching for him again.

  He nodded and moved to lie propped up, looking down at her in a way that made her tingle, and then cry out in amazement as he reached to cup a breast gently, making her feel an intensity of pleasure such as she had never felt in her life before.

  He bent to kiss her skin, and she closed her eyes, knowing that she had never imagined passion or pleasure such as was raging through her veins now. He leaned back, gasping, and frowned at her, but she nodded. Oh, yes, she wanted him – she wanted everything of him, for this never to come to an ending. His worry disappeared and he knelt between her thighs, stroking the skin in a way that made her body tingle.

  When he entered her, it felt as if all pleasure in her life paled compared to this. She cried aloud, awed that such a feeling existed in the world. There followed a brief pain, but it was fleeting, replaced at once with more of the joy.

  He was gasping, now, and she reveled in the sound as he moved into her, filling her again and again and again. The feelings were like a stream in flood, battering against her, overwhelming her senses, filling her mind.

  She was drifting in a tide of feeling so strong that when they cried out she almost didn't know who had first – he or she – and then she was lost. Her mind disappeared on a tide of absolute, undiluted wonder.

  When they woke from their slumbers, he stroked her waist and sleepily reached to kiss her, and her heart melted. She felt longing rise inside her again, tempered by a sort of gentle sweetness that made her want to cling to him and never let go. Now she never had to, because this was a new part of their journey – a part that meant neither of them would ever be alone, for it was part that they would boldly walk together.

  EPILOGUE

  Ettie looked up from her sewing, where it lay in her lap. The first thing that met her eye was the same as it was every day, when she sat out here – the endless blue reaches of ocean.

  She sighed, letting the sapphire expanse fill her sight, letting the beauty of it ease her heart. She would never in all her life get used to it, even if she lived here every day for a lifetime.

  She heard a footfall on the grass behind her and turned, smiling, toward it.

  “Is it cold out?” Garrick asked, his voice gentle. “I thought I'd bring a shawl. The breeze is coming in a little more.”

  Ettie smiled, reaching gratefully up to him where he held a soft shawl out to her. “It is a little cool, though the summer sun is so warm,” she mused. “Thank you, dearest.”

  He smiled down into her eyes, brown ones shining. “It's not much hardship, exactly,” he grinned. “Bringing a shawl. I wanted to see you and it was a good excuse as any to go.”

  Ettie laughed. “Excuse, indeed. You funny dearest.”

  He flushed, his eyes warm on hers. He gently rested a hand on her shoulder and they sat together, loving the closeness, looking out to sea.

  Another footfall on the grass made them both turn. “Mama, can I have a boat one day? Keith said I couldn't, and...”

  Ettie smiled, heart filling with joy as she looked down at the fair-haired form of her daughter, Margery, where she crossed the lawn to join them. Freshly-pressed linen made her dress and a small matching bonnet, which was slung casually round her neck, bobbing against the straight, youthful back. She was six years of age, and growing fast.

  “Come here, sweetling,” Ettie smiled, reaching down to draw her into an embrace. She closed her eyes as she held her, a feeling of love so intense, complete and wholly filling that she thought she might cry. Margery was their eldest daughter, sister of Stewart, who lay asleep indoors.

  “What would Keith know?” Garrick asked, reaching down to lift Margery up into his arms.

  Ettie leaned back, watching the sea, listening to their talks.

  “He said I couldn't have a ship. That girls can't.”

  “Well!” Garrick chuckled. “I don't see that! Girls can do anything, you know. You just ask your mama. They can run, and ride, and fight, and heal people...of course you may have a boat.”

  “Can I go to faraway places, like you, Papa?” she asked.

  Ettie swallowed at the youthful innocence, knowing she might cry again if given half a chance. She felt such tenderness to this dear daughter their love had birthed, and to her man.

  “Well,” Garrick, who was now first mate of a merchant vessel, and likely to rise, said slowly. “I reckon you can, my dearest, if you like. But first, I think maybe you can come inside and help me while I cut the onions for dinner. Would you like that?”

  “Dinner,” Margery said hopefully. “When we made dinner yesterday, I...”

  As Garrick carried her into the house, chattering cheerfully, Ettie leaned back against the white wicker seat and closed her eyes. Everything in her life was so beautiful, had turned out so beautifully.

  Because things have a way of doing that, in the end, if you close your eyes, trust, and follow your heart.

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  ALSO BY EMILIA FERGUSON

  Lairds of Dunkeld Series

  Book 1 Link -> Heart Of A Highlander

  Book 2 Link -> The Highlander’s Challenge

  Book 3 Link -> The Highland Hero

  Book 4 Link - > The Cursed Highlander

  Book 5 Link - > The Highlander’s Dilemma

  Book 6 Link -> The Highlander’s Awakening

  Book 7 Link -> The Highland Secret Agent

  Book 8 Link -> A Highlander’s Terror

  Book 9 Link -> Soul Of A Highlander

  Book 10 Link -> Courage Of A Highlander

  Blood of Duncliffe Series

  Book 1 Link -> The Highlander’s Trust

  Book 2 Link -> Destiny Of A Highlander

  Book 3 Link -> Highland Love Prevails

  Book 4 Link -> Love For A Reluctant Highland Lass

  .

  Acknowledgement

  Thank you for taking your time and energy to read “Love For A Reluctant Highland Lass”. Without your continuous support, I would not have written this book.

  Wherever you are, I appreciate you from the bottom of my heart. I also want to thank my wonderful Facebook fans, my advance copy reviewers and beta readers in advance for making this series a success.

  ~ Emilia

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  Publisher’s Notes

  Copyright © 2017, 2018 by EMILIA FERGUSON

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not inte
ntional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the author/publisher. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.