“Great idea,” he said, pulling out a chair for her. The table was too close to the hearth for him, or mayhap he was heating up at the thought of climbing into bed with her. Either way, he had to doff some clothing. “Do you mind if I remove my tunic? ’Tis suddenly too warm in here.”
“Nay, do as you wish.”
He removed his tunic, leaving his chest exposed, and sat down at the table. As soon as he was seated, he got to work pouring each of them a goblet of wine and cutting off two pieces of cheese, which was why it took him so long to notice.
Chrissa was staring at his chest, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink.
His Chrissa had never been afraid of a challenge, so he lifted an eyebrow and said, “Are you warm, lass?”
Her eyes, suddenly full of mischief, shot back up to his. “Aye, I find that I am.”
“Feel free to do what I’ve done,” he said with a wide grin. “It definitely helped me.”
She removed her tunic, moving slowly so as to tease him, revealing the most glorious breasts he’d ever seen sat in front of him. She leaned forward and the two perfect globes rested on the table. “You’re right. This is quite freeing,” she said, winking at him with a grin.
He picked up his goblet and drank the rest in one gulp. Hell, but she was perfection. Her luscious light brown nipples stared at him.
He forced himself to look away. “Are you ready yet, Chrissa?” How he prayed she would say aye.
“Nay, I still have quite a bit of wine left. Is something wrong? Can you not find something to do while I finish?”
He almost choked on nothing, but he recognized the look on her face. She was teasing him again.
He stood up, leaned over with a growl, and lifted her from her seat. She squealed in delight as he settled her on his lap. “Naught wrong at all. And I thought of something to do while you finish your wine. You didn’t really think I could look and not touch, did you?”
She laughed, throwing her head back and saying, “Go right ahead. Touch all you like, but I am finishing my wine.”
He locked his gaze on hers and cupped both of her breasts in his hands, rubbing each nipple with his thumbs. “You are beautiful, Chrissa. Sheer perfection.” Something in her gaze changed at his comment—a new vulnerability appeared.
She had worried he wouldn’t like her body.
“I am?” she said softly.
He continued his light ministrations, her nipples now peaked, and she arched against him. His arousal was almost painful.
“Aye, you are. Every part of you is beautiful. Do you want to know what will feel even better?”
“Aye,” she answered, her hand gripping the back of his neck.
He dipped his head and took one nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the tip, then suckling her until she moaned. When he switched to the other soft swell, he continued to knead and massage the first breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“You’re quite talented that you can do both at once.”
He laughed, lifting his head and asking, “Are you done with your wine yet?’
“Nay, continue,” she said, taking another deep swallow.
His hands went to her backside and she started. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you out of those leggings.”
“Why?”
“Because I wish to feel all of your skin.”
“All right,” she said, wriggling her sweet arse until her leggings lay in a heap on the floor.
He took her breast in his mouth again while he moved his hand to her thigh and around to the vee between her legs, though she had them locked tightly together. He started caressing the curls at the juncture of her thighs, and her legs moved apart of their own volition just far enough for him to find her nub. He rubbed her softly there, and she took another long swig of her wine. His thumb continued to pleasure her until she moved her legs far enough apart to give him free access. They said nothing, just enjoying each other’s closeness, learning more of each other. Her hands moved to his shoulders and down to his upper arms before they found a way over to his nipples, teasing him much the same way he’d teased her.
He wouldn’t have guessed that she would allow him such a slow exploration of her body, but he enjoyed it more then he would have expected.
When he thought she was ready, he easily slid a finger inside her, and her wetness made him moan loud enough for her to hear.
She took another sip of wine, then tipped the goblet up and set it down. “No more wine.” She pointed to the bed.
He carried her over to it, reveling in the softness of her skin as he settled her on the furs and pillows. Then he stood back and dropped his plaid.
“Oh, Drostan,” she said, looking at his sex as he climbed in beside her.
He settled himself over her and said, “Are you sure you’re ready for this, lass?”
“Aye, I do want this, but please do it quickly and don’t talk about it. I know ’twill hurt the first time.”
He did as she asked, putting his weight on his elbows as he slid into her slick entrance, waiting for her to accept his invasion. He felt her barrier but waited to see if she would relax a bit more, stroking her everywhere he could, slipping in a bit deeper whenever she loosened against him.
“Just finish it, Drostan.”
He was perfectly positioned at her entrance so he gave one quick thrust and plunged inside of her, breaking her barrier. She tightened on him and all he could think to say was, “I’m sorry.”
He stopped to wait for her, to let her adjust to him being inside of her. She’d lost her maidenhead with that one swift motion. It was only right that he give her control of what happened next. He didn’t wait long before she arched against him, teasing him enough that he said, “You are all right? I can move and ’twill not hurt you?”
“Aye,” she said with a wee gasp. “I wish to finish. Please, Drostan. I’m fine.”
They moved together in the ancient dance, Chrissa naturally picking up his rhythm. She followed his lead until the need pulsating inside her woman’s center became too much and she pushed against him, driving him faster, harder, unrelenting until she crashed over the edge, shouting his name.
She brought him with her, and he gripped her hips and climaxed with a roar, giving her his seed. It had been so wonderful that all he was capable of doing was whispering to her how very much he loved her.
A sudden image popped into his mind.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, her finger tracing the line of his jaw.
“Something I’ve always wanted to do. If you’ll allow me.”
“What? I’m not fond of surprises.”
“You still have your hair plaited. May I undo it? I’ll do it in front of the fire so you’ll stay warm.”
“May I get dressed?”
He shook his head, a sly grin crossing his face. “Nay. I wish to see your hair down around you with no clothing on at all.”
She thought for a moment, then asked, “And you won’t touch me otherwise? While it was wonderful, I am feeling a bit tender. And I wish to sit on a plaid or I’ll be too cold.”
“Agreed.”
He helped her to the chair in front of the fire and kept his promise.
She, however, did not.
They would have a wondrous life together.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A fortnight later, Chrissa’s smile was the widest Drostan had ever seen it…with the exception of the weekend they’d spent together in their cottage.
“Is this going to work for you?” he asked, giving her a playful nudge after picking up his puppy. “Is the festival big enough? Are there enough competitors?” They stood at the end of one of the fields that were to be used for the contests, their clan and family clustered around to watch the competitions.
She nodded with glee and threw her arms around his neck, being careful with the animal he held. “’Tis perfect. Absolutely perfect. Thank you, husband.” Sh
e kissed him quickly on the lips, then leaned down to rub noses with their pet.
“Do not say that too loudly,” he said, even though he wished for her to shout it to the sky. They’d managed to sneak back to the cottage on two other occasions, but no one had questioned them about it yet. “Other than your parents and your grandsire, no one knows we already handfasted.” Then he snuggled the puppy in his arms. “Except you, wee Sky.”
Sky yipped at him.
She stepped back and gave him a saucy look, wiggling her hips in the new leggings Aunt Gwyneth had given her.
Chrissa’s cousin Loki, who was the announcer for the archery competition, stepped forward and held his arms up for everyone’s attention. The archers who’d been chosen for the two teams were lined up by the field, and spectators had gathered all around them. Although Drostan and Chrissa each had a group of contestants, they stood together, forming a united front.
“Lads and lassies, join us for the big event, the archery contest! We are blessed with two judges for the contest, and I will provide the third vote if necessary. The judges, seated on the outside, are Logan and Gwyneth Ramsay.”
The applause was louder than thunder. Logan stood next to his wife and waved to all the contenders.
Loki continued, “And we thank all the lairds and former lairds of the clan—Connor, Jamie, and Alexander Grant. This is a tribute to Jake Grant, whom we all miss greatly.” A moment of silence followed, then Loki said, “Chrissa introduce your team, please.”
Hoots and hollers nearly drowned out her voice as she shouted their names: Dyna, Branwen, Molly, Sorcha, Gregor, and Drystan of Clan Ramsay, son of Donnan and Bethia.
Drostan introduced his team next: Ashlyn and her daughter, Isbeil, Gavin, Merewen, and their daughter, Ysenda, and Maggie.
Molly yelled, “We’re in trouble! Isbeil is too powerful!”
The battle went on for four hours, but Chrissa’s team finally prevailed. He could tell she wished to use her Grant war whoop, but she couldn’t, simply because there were Ramsays and Grants on both sides. To celebrate her victory, even though it was against him, he swung her through the air like he’d done when they were small, the crowd hooting even louder in appreciation.
Next up was the sword competition. They’d built a small platform in the middle of the lists, and he climbed up and made his announcement, “Anyone interested in participating in the sword skills contest, please come forward with your weapon. The judges for this contest will be Alexander Grant along with the two Grant lairds, Jamie and Connor.” Although he wasn’t allowed to compete himself, just like Chrissa had not shot any arrows, he was excited to watch with her by his side. The dream they’d spun together, all those years ago, was coming true before their eyes.
***
Droves of men came forward to sign up for the contest. Chrissa stood in a group off to the side of several while Drostan helped her uncles plan the sword contest. Maryell, Merelda, Astra, Dyna, and their Ramsay cousins Lise and Liliana stood together, watching all the contestants come forward.
“Lord above, help us all,” Astra said.
“What?” Chrissa asked.
Astra lifted a finger and pointed at five men who’d entered the area. Chrissa didn’t know any of them. “God’s teeth, they’re beautiful. They look like Norse gods. Who are they?”
Dyna said, “And they took their tunics off just for us…”
Chrissa said, “Close your mouth, Dyna. You’re drooling.”
“Who are they?” Maryell whispered. “I must know. Two of them look quite young.”
“Lise, Liliana, do you know them?” Dyna asked. “They’re wearing Menzie plaids.” And the Menzies were connected to the Ramsays by marriage.
The twins turned to stare at the five men who’d just entered the contest. “Oh, those are Aunt Avelina and Uncle Drew’s three sons, Tad, Tomag, and Maitland. And the other two are Tad’s sons.”
Merelda said, “One for me, one for you, sister.”
The competition began, and so many had entered it took two days to get through all the contestants, but it came down to a contest between two people—Alasdair and Derric.
Dozens of other contests were held for the enjoyment of all: a horse obstacle course, a diving contest in the loch, a dagger throwing contest. They even held a contest for the best leggings for archery.
The winner? Tora, who clutched a miniature toy bow.
They also had contests for hunting and fishing, and so everyone feasted for the entire sennight.
But for Chrissa, one other part of the festival pleased her more than any. It was something she hadn’t expected. Grandsire came into the middle of the group on horseback at the end, something that silenced the crowd instantly.
“I’d like to acknowledge something that was overlooked with all the excitement over the Scot’s win at Bannockburn and the villains who tried to overtake Grant Castle. And that is the part of two young people who helped us find my dear granddaughter.
“Astra and Hendrie, please come forward.”
Chrissa had heard about what they’d done, but with all the excitement over the wedding, their achievement had been overlooked. Leave it to her grandsire not to miss it.
“Many of you don’t know this, but Astra has an amazing ability to draw maps along with a spatial understanding that many people lack. She and Hendrie set out to find Chrissa and Drostan and they were successful while so many patrols were not. I understand they had a bit of help from a wolfhound named Sky, but I don’t wish to ignore their achievements.”
Astra and Hendrie now stood in front of Alexander Grant, quietly listening. When he finished his statement, he nodded to a group of warriors who came up and encircled the two young warriors.
Loki stood in front of the group and set his sword down on the ground in front of the two. The rest of the group saluted the two with their weapons, then rested their swords on the ground, too. The entire crowd applauded and cheered for the two.
Hendrie hugged Astra and was nearly in tears. “It happened, Astra. My dream is complete.”
Chrissa couldn’t stop herself from rushing forward to hug both of them. It was the culmination of a wonderful festival.
All that was left was the wedding.
***
Chrissa woke up and raced to the window, throwing the shutters back and hanging out the window.
Maryell mumbled, “Well?”
“’Twill be a most glorious day. Not a cloud in the blue sky. A perfect day for my wedding!” she declared, throwing her arms up over her head, as giddy as any lass on her wedding day. “I wonder what Drostan is doing.”
“Yelling at someone to let him sleep,” Merelda mumbled, her face hidden under the covers.
A knock sounded at the door and Chrissa giggled. “You’ll not sleep another minute, and you know it.”
Her mother entered with a tray of fruit and cheese. “You have half an hour to eat,” she said, setting the tray down, “then Mama’s bathing chamber is yours. We’ll get you dressed and then Aunt Avelina, Lise, and Liliana will weave the flowers in your hair.” Her Ramsay aunt and cousins had a way with flowers, and everyone in both clans were always clamoring for them to fix their hair.
“My thanks, Mama.” She hurried over, hugged her mother, and said, “And now I’m glad we waited. Everyone is here and I’m so excited. Everyone!”
Her mother turned to leave before glancing back, eyes narrowed. “You’ll not be late for anything. Do you hear me?”
“Aye, Mama. You’ll see how perfect it will be. All of it.”
Perfect wasn’t exactly how it all went, but she did survive the day. Even through all of the following:
Two of the roasted pheasants burned and sent smoke traveling all through the keep.
Chrissa tripped on her dress and rolled down several stairs, though fortunately she didn’t break any bones.
There were so many tents and banners outside that all her cousins had to go out and have everyone move for the ceremony.
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It rained late in the morn, soaking everyone.
Two trays of fruit tarts went flying through the air when Maeve screamed upon seeing Daniel and Constance and all their bairns come inside, just because she’d always loved Daniel.
Daniel, always the talented one, caught two tarts flying through the air with his one hand.
The dogs all ate well between the pheasants and the fruit tarts.
But they laughed through it all, and after the rain stopped, tables dressed in ribbons and flowers were arranged in the courtyard and in the hall. They’d invited so many that the set up overtook the entire archery field and the lists, where there was no parrying allowed. Her procession was to start out near the lists and would end at the chapel in the courtyard. Chrissa started out so far away that many would miss the beginning, but with the rolling hills, they’d see her once she reached the meadow.
And so it began.
Chrissa, mounted on a white horse, was led down a path lined with Grant warriors by her wee cousins, Grant bairns bedecked in their feast day finery. The bairns led her to the base of a hill, where her grandsire and parents waited on horseback. The plan was for them to climb the hill until they reached the meadow, then stand and wait, overlooking all of their guests, until the ceremony began. The meadow was full of clanmates and others who came to watch from far and wide. Menzies, Drummonds, Ramsays, Camerons, they were all there.
As soon as Chrissa reached the base of the hill where her parents awaited her, she nearly lost her composure. One look at Alexander Grant in his fine leine almost brought her to tears. He was such a handsome man. And her mother was absolutely beautiful in a dark red gown with a bodice made from the Grant plaid, her handsome father next to her.
Chrissa wore a white under gown with the red Grant plaid draped in folds and pleats over her. She wore her grandmother Maddie’s pearls, and a gold belt rested on her hips. Lise and Liliana had decorated her hair with flowers of red and gold.
“You are beautiful, lass,” Grandsire said. “Grandmama would be proud. The pearls are lovely.” He held his hand out and she took it, the two climbing to the pinnacle hand in hand on horseback, her mother and father riding on either side of them.
The Scot's Deception (Highland Swords Book 5) Page 21