A Hellish Highlander (Clan Ross Book 3)

by Hildie McQueen

  “Are ye sure?” Her mother leaned in and studied her. “Can ye breathe?”

  “Of course.” Gisela plopped back down on the stool. “Pile my hair on top of my head and allow some curls to fall down the back,” she instructed the maid, immediately regretting the long sentence. Her head began to spin and she let out what little breath came. It was going to be a long day.

  *

  Verity Ross and Patrick Munro stood at the front of the room with their hands bound together. Flushed and seeming delighted, Verity beamed up at her husband-to-be. Unlike his bride Patrick maintained the same lack of expression as during the last meal the day before.

  Gisela couldn’t sit, so she stood at the back of the room, her back against the wall. Practicing shallow breathing helped to keep her from fainting and she wondered if perhaps she should have come up with a better way to hide her bosom.

  “Ye look about to pass out,” Kieran whispered into her ear and she jumped at the deep voice. “Why do ye not sit?”

  “Why are ye not at the front somewhere with yer family?” Gisela retorted. “I prefer to stand.” She hitched her chin up.

  “Suit yerself.” He remained next to her, his attention to the front of the room.

  Gisela took another short breath, blowing out the air slowly so, hopefully, he would not notice. Why did the man not go away?

  Her mother turned and glanced at her and upon noticing Kieran, she smiled widely. Gisela looked up to the ceiling.

  He had to have noticed her mother’s reaction.

  “Go away,” she hissed to him.

  “No. I prefer to stand here.”

  “What will ye do if my mother asks ye to marry me?” she said with a smirk. “She is very wily.”

  He looked to her out of the corners of his eyes. “She would not.”

  “Ye do not know my mother.”

  A woman seated near them turned and gave them a stern look. Gisela ignored her, keeping her eyes forward. It was best to save her energy to concentrate on breathing and disregard the stubborn man.

  That was easier said than done as he caused a reaction within that was very hard to ignore, part of which was quickness of breath.

  As soon as the couple was pronounced married, everyone spilled out of the chapel to either the great room or the courtyard. Gisela rushed directly to the far side of the keep to seek fresh air. She needed to loosen the binds or else she’d most definitely faint. The thought of going up the stairs took what little breath she had. So instead, with unsteady steps, she made her way to a far the corner of the garden.

  Reaching behind her, she loosened the bindings and the bodice gaped open, allowing her to finally gulp in full breaths. “Goodness, this was a horrible idea,” she muttered, never relishing air as much as she did at that moment.

  It was only a few moments later that she realized it was impossible to tie the ribbons again. She tried wrapping them around her waist, but the bodice folded over, revealing her breasts. Next, she tried pulling up the chemise. It bunched up and made her look like a misshapen troll.

  “Oh, no!” She held up the disheveled dress and took a step back into the shadows. “Why do I let my mother talk me into things.”

  She stepped onto a rock and peeked over the wall. The only person in view was a young guard. It was either get him to come and help or remain in the garden until dark. Then again, once people began to drink ale, no doubt a couple would come there to seek privacy and she’d be found out.

  “Pssst!” Gisela made the sound and the guard looked around, but didn’t see her. “Over here,” she said. The young man’s eyes narrowed in her direction.

  “What do ye want?”

  “I-I need help.”

  He walked closer, his gaze moving from her and then side-to-side. “With what?”

  “I…er…well ye see, my dress, I need help tying it.”

  His brows fell. “Did Gavin put ye up to this?”

  “Who? I do not know a Gavin.”

  “Mmm hmm.” He walked backwards. “I am on duty and cannot. However, I can get a few other guards to come help ye.”

  “No!” Gisela called out louder than she meant. “Ye’re right. It was Gavin. I will inform him ye did not fall for his jest.”

  The guard laughed and walked away, whistling.

  Gisela lowered to the rock. “What to do now?”

  There was rustling as someone stepped into the garden. Gisela froze and peered through low tree branches.

  “I do not understand what exactly it is I can do. He does not respond to anything I have tried.” Two women had approached, one older and the other younger. She knew them both from the village.

  They were Maura and Angeline Finlay, mother and daughter. Maura’s husband had died just recently. It was common knowledge that they were left without resources and had to sell many of their belongings to survive. Quite a sad state the poor women found themselves in.

  Gisela’s brother, Hamus, helped them with coin and other things, as he was sweet on Angeline. It seemed Maura didn’t consider his help to be enough.

  Knowing this was the woman his brother cared for made her move just a bit closer to hear better.

  They didn’t see her and Gisela’s mouth fell open when Maura took her daughter by the arms and shook her.

  “If ye cannot seduce him then ye must sneak into his bed and then cry out as if he is forcing himself upon ye. I will ensure there are witnesses so that he will then have no choice but to marry ye.”

  Angeline shook her head emphatically. “I cannot do that mother. Kieran Ross will be almost impossible to take unawares. Besides, he frightens me.”

  “Stop with the silliness. We need coin and a place to live. We are without resources.”

  “Hamus promised to see after us…”

  “Nonsense. He has nothing to offer. A mere stable hand.”

  “I love him.”

  “Shut up,” the older woman snapped and Gisela flinched.

  “Mother, please,” the young woman pleaded, her voice shaking.

  “Do as I say. Ye must do it tonight, Angeline. Take a few moments to compose yerself,” the woman hissed and stalked away.

  Holding her bodice up to cover herself, she moved from her hiding place and neared the young woman who remained behind sniffing loudly.

  “Angeline,” Gisela said. Angeline jumped, her reddened eyes round like saucers. “We…I did not see ye.”

  “I need help.” She motioned to her dress. “The maid bound my bodice much too tight. Unfortunately, I could not breath.”

  Angeline sniffed and nodded. “Of course I will help ye.” She rounded Gisela, pulled up her bodice and chemise, bunching the fabric expertly. Soon, the dress was in place, the bunching of the chemise covering her perfectly.

  “Thank ye,” Gisela said and gave her an understanding look. “My mother is overzealous about finding me a husband as well. Is there anything I can do to help ye?”

  “From what ye heard, ye know my mother will never accept yer brother as my husband.” Angeline sniffed, her blue eyes wet with tears. “I do not wish to marry anyone but him.”

  “Then do so,” Gisela said with a one-shouldered shrug. “Go fetch Hamus and tell him ye wish to marry immediately. My brother is too enamored with ye to allow what yer mother has planned to happen.”

  “He has already agreed to marry, but the laird has him in charge of all the horses and other clans’ steeds for the wedding.”

  Gisela wanted to roll her eyes. “Very well. I will help and keep Kieran Ross from going to his chamber tonight. He will probably leave in the morning. Once this entire…” she waved her arm toward the courtyard, “…is over, ye and Hamus can get away and marry.”

  With that said, she slipped her arm through Angeline’s. “I am glad ye will be my sister.”

  Angeline gave her a pretty smile. “Me as well.”

  As they entered the courtyard, Gisela spotted Kieran. Somehow, she’d find a way to keep him and Angeline from ending up in h
is chamber. First, she had to find out where he slept.

  “Angeline, where is his chamber?”

  “The last one on the second floor,” Angeline replied. “On the right.”

  The festivities continued well into the evening. As tired as she was, Gisela needed to keep vigil over Kieran’s movements. For the most part, he remained with his clansmen. The archers seemed to have a close camaraderie as loud laughter overtook them constantly. They sat at a table dragged away from the others on the opposite side of a large bonfire.

  From where Gisela sat with her mother and a group of older women, she could see Kieran clearly. He didn’t join in the conversation, but she did see him laugh once. It was as if he’d caught himself because, right after, he’d scowled.

  With the glow of the fire upon him, he was even more breathtaking than usual. His bow and quiver were strapped to his broad back. In a way, he seemed out of place, more like a person who lived in the forest.

  Seeming to sense her perusal, his gaze moved toward her, but she looked away before their eyes could meet.

  How would she keep him from going to his chamber to find Angeline there? Angeline’s mother would do anything in her power to get her daughter to seduce Kieran, so it was up to Gisela to help.

  “Gisela?” Her mother nudged her. “Go and fetch me something to drink please. I am parched.”

  *

  The minx was up to something. Kieran could sense it. She’d kept an eye on him all through last meal. For some reason, she’d purposely walked past him, her skirts brushing against his back, as if signaling him. But when he’d turned, she walked back to her mother with a cup in hand and not paying him any attention.

  “Yer lass is not seeming to pay ye much heed today,” Tristan said with a smirk. “Did ye anger her?”

  “She is not my lass,” Kieran replied with a scowl. “Why do ye keep harping on.”

  Tristan shrugged. “She purposely brushed past ye and, even now, ye follow her every move.”

  What his brother said was true. “Because she is constantly doing something…” He stopped speaking and got to his feet. “I need fresh air.” He stalked to the door, not looking back but hearing his brother snicker.

  Chapter Ten

  “What are ye doing?”

  The deep voice made Ceilidh whirl around and gasp. Ian’s height hid the light of the sconce on the corridor wall and his shadow fell over her.

  “Nothing, I am going in search of my wrap. It is a bit cold…” Taking a step backward, she could get a clearer view of his face.

  His gaze traveled over her, the action causing her breathing to accelerate. “Why are ye here?”

  “I owe ye an explanation.” Ian spoke in a low tone that made his already deep voice seem even more so. “The way I ignored ye the last few weeks has not been fair.”

  Ceilidh remained silent, trying her best to work past the constriction in her throat. Although her eyes stung, she willed them to not tear up. She would not let this man know how deeply he’d hurt her.

  The ache in her chest was worse than when he’d been gone or stayed out of her way. She wondered how long it would be before she’d be able to see him and not feel anything.

  “Ye are a good woman who doesn’t deserve…”

  “Stop speaking!” Anger helped her speak out. “I understand. There is no need to say anything further.” She held up both hands. “Now that ye are able and without injury, ye can aspire to more. Why would ye even consider a simple village woman like me?”

  When an errant tear trickled down her cheek, she wanted to scream in annoyance.

  Ian opened his mouth, but she slashed across the air with her right hand, silencing him. “I will get over ye, Ian McElroy, I will. But I beg ye to continue avoiding me. Tis best that way.”

  Before he could say another word, she turned away and raced to her chamber. Once there, she slammed the door, leaning against it. “I love ye.” She slid to the floor, not caring about her beautiful new gown. Everything ached and she let the pain take over as she sobbed.

  Tap. Tap. Tap. “Ceilidh.” Ian had followed her.

  “Go…go away.”

  “Not until ye listen.”

  She took a deep breath and shook her head to clear her thoughts. “Go away.”

  “I cannot leave until ye hear what I have to say. It is I who do not feel worthy of ye. How can I possibly bind ye to me, a man who is not whole and who ye could never be proud to stand next to?”

  Eyes wide, Ceilidh could not believe what she was hearing. Ian did not feel worthy of her? The thought almost made her laugh.

  “Have ye considered what will happen when I can no longer fight? Tis more possible for me to be hurt in battle now.” He had to be pressing his mouth to the door for his words to come through so clearly.

  She stood and went to the washbasin. The cool water felt good on her heated face. Hands trembling like leaves, Ceilidh ran them over her hair in an attempt to smooth any unruly locks.

  After that, she walked to the door and opened it.

  The vulnerability in Ian’s expression almost made her cry again. His eyes bored into hers as if seeking answers without her speaking them.

  Taking his hand, she pulled him into the room and then placed her hand on the center of his chest. He was the man she loved and he was perfect.

  His broad chest lifted and lowered, and he stood very still, almost as if he were afraid to do something wrong.

  Finally, Ceilidh looked up at him. “Ye are perfect. Yer heart and body are strong. I have no doubt ye would always defend me and overcome any obstacle to ensure that I am safe. Ye are a brave warrior who makes our laird proud.”

  “I am not sure…”

  “Of course ye are. Ye remain in the guard because the men have no doubts about ye in battle. If it were different, they would ensure ye were sent to work elsewhere.”

  His gaze fell from hers to the floor and she hit him in the center of the chest. “Why do ye not believe the truth? Do ye to be filled with doubt?”

  When she huffed, the corners of his lips twitched. “Ye are the one who is perfect, lass.”

  “If ye really feel that way about me, show me.”

  His mouth crashed over hers with such force that Ceilidh lost her breath. She reached around his neck and grasped his hair with her right hand.

  His right arm wrapped around her waist, Ian pulled her tighter against him, never breaking the kiss.

  Reason was gone and all Ceilidh could think of was taking him to her bed. She’d seen more than once how well formed he was, but to see and to touch were two very different things.

  “Come to my bed,” she gasped out when his mouth traveled down the side of her jaw to her throat. “I need ye.”

  “Are ye sure?” he murmured, his mouth barely lifting as he pressed kisses further down to the top of her breasts.

  “Aye.” The reply was breathless and it hung in the air, floating down over them as Ian continued kissing her while guiding her backward toward the small bed.

  It took only a few moments to get rid of their clothing.

  She fell back onto the bed and Ian came over her. Finally, she was pressed against him, skin to skin, the warmth of his body wonderful against the chill in the room.

  Ceilidh welcomed his weight over her and let out a long sigh as she ran her hands down his broad back, enjoying the combination of the taut muscles and scars that reminded her of his vigor in battle.

  Every sensation was new. Nothing in her life had prepared her for the feelings overtaking her at the moment, the press of his lips to different parts of her body, the lingering trails his tongue left as it traveled downward until he took first one tip of her breast in and then the other. When his fingers skittered over the overly sensitive skin of her inner thigh, a moan from deep in her throat rumbled out.

  “Ian,” she whispered, frantic to find out what happened next. The pleasure would culminate and come to an end. Of that, she was sure. Fear that it would end could not com
pete with the thought of what would happen next.

  Doubt and thoughts about possible repercussions floated away when his fingers dipped between the folds of her sex and everything ceased to exist. Every part of her was lost as he began to circle her very center, sending heat down her legs and up to her core.

  “Oh, what is this?” she cried out, too overcome to care to know if he responded or not. “Ahhhh.”

  His mouth took hers with urgency; perhaps to quiet her cries. And when the heat became more intense, she mewled in pleasure.

  Just as she was about to fall to pieces, the pressure of his rod at her entrance brought her crashing down to the realization of what was about to happen and she lifted her hips, urging him on. Ian would take her that night and he would be hers forever.

  She pushed away thoughts of the future. In that moment, all that mattered was joining with him.

  Ian must have sensed a change because he hesitated, hovering just inside her. “Are ye sure?”

  “Aye.” Ceilidh pulled his face to her and took his mouth. “Take me.”

  When he pushed in, at first it was slowly, then he thrust hard, taking not only her maidenhead, but also her breath. Ceilidh cried out at the pain like that of being torn. Unsure what to do next, she took a trembling breath.

  “Relax, my beauty. I will ensure it will be a memorable night. Trust me.” Ian murmured the words into her ear as he moved in and out of her in a slow, rhythmic pace that soon took her mind away from the now gone ache. Instead, she marveled at his body and the way it moved.

  Positioned between her legs, he used his right arm at the elbow and where the left one ended to hold his upper body up as he looked down at her, his hips rocking forward and back, his sex sliding within her and, soon, something began to happen. Her body tightened around him, coming to life with renewed need.

  Ceilidh closed her eyes, but then opened them again, meeting his gaze. Her lips curved.

  “Ye are worth more to me than any woman on this earth,” Ian whispered and she believed he felt that way.

  When his movements became frantic, Ceilidh was glad because she needed to find out what eluded her. She lifted her hips to match his thrusts and soon became lost once again. Suddenly, she floated into a place that was like no other and when the fall began, she let herself go.