Laurel reached between them, braver than she had been early on, grasping Brodie’s length. The night before, she’d stroked as he’d shown her before his eyes rolled back, and he’d had to grip her wrist to pry her hand away. As they laid together on the bed, once more bringing him to the brink, Brodie captured both wrists in one hand and raised her arms over her head as he lowered his mouth to her breast, swirling his tongue over her nipple. His other hand lazily meandered to the thatch of curls at the apex of her legs. Laurel writhed in anticipation as his roving fingers made the hair on her arms rise. She splayed her legs wide as Brodie’s questing digits finally eased into her sheath. With each moan, they plunged into her, stroking and probing as she labored to breathe.
“I want to touch you, too,” Laurel whispered. Brodie grinned at her with a wink before he shook his head.
“I shall torment you just a while longer before I give you what you want.”
Laurel twisted, bringing her mons against Brodie’s length. She slid her toes along the length of his calf as her thigh rubbed his. She arched her back, thrusting her breast against his lips. Brodie tightened his grip on her wrists, but Laurel continued to twist and rub her body against his.
“You are not the only one who can tease,” Laurel purred.
“But I am the only one who can do this.” Brodie lifted her leg to his hip and thrust into her. Her carnal moan spurred Brodie on as he surged into her over and over. She winced once, and he froze. He’d forgotten that Laurel would be sore after so many rounds of lovemaking. She’d assured him over and over that she was well, but the moment of discomfort made him feel contrite.
“That wasn’t pain, Brodie. Or least not in a bad way. I ache for you to keep going. I was trying to ease it.” Laurel tugged her arms again, and Brodie released her immediately. Her hands flew to his backside, pressing his hips, urging him on. “It’ll only be painful if you stop.”
“I will call for a hot bath as soon as we’re done,” Brodie promised.
“It won’t be until this eve,” Laurel grinned. Their kiss signaled the end of any conversation, their only communication their moans. They moved like they’d been lovers for years rather than mere hours. Their climaxes washed over them in unison, leaving them boneless and weary. They curled close together and fell back to sleep. Brodie made good on his promise of a bath, and Laurel learned couples didn’t have to lie down to make love.
Nineteen
“You will not leave this castle without a proper marriage,” King Robert decreed.
“We have the contracts signed and a handfast in place. Lady Campbell and I can exchange our vows at Kilchurn in front of our clan,” Brodie argued. King Robert summoned Brodie to the Privy Council chamber the morning Brodie intended to depart Stirling with Laurel. A less demanding, but nonetheless persistent, knock interrupted their respite from court life. Now he stood before an aggrieved monarch while attempting to keep his temper in check.
“None of the other ladies may marry until after Lady Laurel’s wedding,” King Robert said for at least the third time, to which Brodie gave the same response.
“She had her wedding in a meadow when we exchanged vows. Lady Campbell is married. The others can go on aboot their lives without any more fuss. And I intend to leave with my wife.” Brodie crossed his arms. “Today.”
“You shall find that hard to do when the gates are locked to Lady Laurel, and you find yourself in a cell within my dungeon,” King Robert threatened. Brodie bit his tongue, knowing he’d finally pushed too far. Even if the king was goading him and bluffing, he wouldn’t risk Laurel being left alone so soon after they married.
“Very well,” Brodie relented. “But we’re not waiting until Monday. We can have the wedding this eve.”
“You are waiting until Monday, and you will have the ceremony at sunset,” King Robert insisted. Brodie pressed his lips together and swallowed the angry retort, but he nodded. “And in the meantime, you will leave Lady Laurel alone. She will return to her chamber and her duties to the queen.”
“You go too far,” Brodie hissed, keeping his voice low so only Robert heard. “You’ve seen the proof that we’re married. You will not keep me from my wife. I do not trust for a moment that she’s safe here.”
“She has been for eleven years.”
“She hasn’t been an impediment to anyone else’s marriage until now. There are many angry courtiers here, and I don’t trust them not to do something.”
“Very well. She may return to your chamber, but her days are to be spent as the queen demands.”
“Aye, Your Majesty.” Brodie bowed before taking his leave. He entered the passageway to find Graham, his second, rushing toward him with a piece of parchment in his hand. Brodie hurried to meet his most trusted guardsman.
“This just arrived from Dominic,” Graham announced. “Danny said it was urgent.”
Brodie nodded, knowing it wouldn’t be good news if his brother sent their fastest messenger and Graham was nearly running to find him. He slid the wax seal from the parchment and scanned the missive. Brodie clenched his jaw as he reread it. Not only had the Lamonts led another raid well across their border, the MacDougalls joined them by raiding several other villages. Brodie looked up at Graham.
“The Lamonts are harrying our villages, and the bluidy MacDougalls are in on it too,” Brodie explained. “I must find Lady Campbell, but first I must return to the king and share this turn of events.” Brodie wanted to groan at the prospect of dealing with the Bruce, but he had no choice. While Graham waited in the passageway, Brodie went back to stand before the king. He handed the missive over and waited for King Robert’s reaction.
“The Lamonts ended your alliance with the MacMillans, so why are they still harassing you?”
“I would like an answer to that too. Your Majesty, you must see that I cannot remain here. Lady Campbell and I need to return to Kilchurn, and I need to sort this mess out with both the Lamonts and the MacDougalls.”
“Absolutely not. You are not riding with another bride only to have the Lamonts attack again. Lady Campbell remains here until you return. She may be a nuisance, and she may be your wife, but she’s still the Earl of Ross’s daughter. An earl whose sister married the Earl of Sutherland, who is the brother-by-marriage to the Earl of Sinclair, who is the bluidy father-by-marriage of Laird Mackay!” King Robert was practically yelling by the time he rattled off the complicated family into which Brodie married. “She isn’t leaving this bluidy keep until you can promise me that whatever this is—” King Robert shook the parchment. “—is resolved.”
Brodie scowled, but he knew the Bruce was right. He wasn’t eager to travel with Laurel while bands of Lamonts and MacDougalls rained havoc on his clan. But he wasn’t eager to leave Laurel alone either. He’d just argued against doing that very thing. “If this weren’t so urgent, I would insist on the wedding today, but I must find my wife, then ride out.”
“Aye. She’ll be in the queen’s solar at this hour. They will have just returned from their walk,” King Robert offered, and Brodie bowed once more.
Brodie hurried through the castle’s passageway, with Graham his silent shadow. When the two Highlanders reached the doors to the queen’s solar, Graham stopped short and stepped aside. A royal guard opened the door only to reveal Laurel standing toe-to-toe with Sarah Anne. The queen wasn’t in sight, and the other ladies encircled the arguing pair. Laurel turned to look at the newcomer, her eyes widening when she recognized Brodie. She muttered something to Sarah Anne before swishing her skirts and making her way to Brodie.
Brodie could only imagine what made the color rise in Laurel’s cheeks, but he doubted he would have any sympathy for Sarah Anne when he learned. He brought Laurel’s hands to his lips, an appropriate greeting. But when he noticed Graham shift from the corner of his eye, he recalled he would soon leave Laurel. He pulled her toward him and brushed a soft kiss against her lips. Shocked, it took Laurel a moment to reciprocate. She kept it just as brief, but
Brodie welcomed the touch.
“Something has come up, and I need to speak to you,” Brodie whispered. Laurel nodded as Brodie offered his arm. Graham trailed behind them until they reached their chamber, where the three entered. Laurel sat in a chair near the hearth and looked back and forth between the two warriors. “The Lamonts and MacDougalls led raids on our land.”
Laurel was on her feet and across the chamber in four strides. “What do you need me to do?”
Brodie thought his chest would explode. Pride and love filled his heart as he looked at the woman before him. He cupped her jaw and smiled. “Och, lass. I am a lucky mon.” The couple gazed at one another before Brodie sighed. “There is naught for you to do just yet. I thought to take you home, but King Robert pointed out how unwise it would be to travel with you until this is resolved.”
“You want me to stay here,” Laurel stated.
“It’s not what I want, but it’s the right choice. I won’t risk your life, Laurie. Here you are protected by Ross and royal guards. On the road it would only be my small contingent of men.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear, but I know you’re right.”
“Graham and I need to ride out this morn, Laurie. I’m sorry to leave you behind, especially since we haven’t had the wedding yet.”
“We’re already married as far as we’re concerned. It doesn’t matter if the wedding takes place in six days, six moons, or six years. Seeing to our clan is more important. King Robert is only insisting upon it so he can have the last word.”
“You are a wise woman, Laurel Campbell.” Brodie bent to whisper in Laurel’s ear. “I would make love to you one more time if I had the time. Know that I will return as soon as I can. Know that I will miss you. Be well, thistle.”
“I will miss you, too, bear,” Laurel said as she pressed her cheek to Brodie’s chest. “And please, for the love of the Lord, be careful. I don’t want to be your widow before I have a chance to be your wife.”
Brodie and Laurel’s kiss blended passion and tenderness, a fitting symbol of their burgeoning relationship. All too soon, they drew apart. While Brodie fetched his satchel from beside the wall, Laurel was already folding his spare leines and stockings. He held the bag open for her, and she dropped the clothing inside. With another searing kiss that was over much too soon, Brodie departed.
Laurel avoided her brother as much as she could for the next eight days. She was hurt and angry with him, and she didn’t trust herself not to cause a scene if they were in one another’s company. She also avoided the ladies-in-waiting when she could. She’d thought to go riding with her guards, but she recalled what Brodie said about not wanting to travel with her because of the murder of Eliza MacMillan. Laurel didn’t trust the Lamonts and MacDougalls not to set their sights on her. She opted to remain at the castle, spending as much time as she could in her old chamber. She and Ina packed most of Laurel’s belongings, but she spent much of her time creating a beautiful gown from the fabric Brodie gave her. She embellished the new slippers with intricate embroidery, and her project gave her a sense of purpose. The nights were painfully lonely; she laid in her bed wondering where Brodie was and if he was safe. She remembered when her father and Monty rode out and the uncertainty of whether they would return. But the aching pain her fear created was far greater now that she’d fallen in love.
The only time she couldn’t wholly avoid people was at the evening meal. Whispers went around when people noticed Brodie was no longer at court. As the days dragged on, and the Monday of their wedding came and went, Laurel struggled to ignore the speculation that Brodie wouldn’t return. Doubt wormed its way into her mind as she waited for his return, but there was no sign of when—or rather if—Brodie would come back for her. While the comments and barbs annoyed her, Nelson MacDougall was the only man to make her uncomfortable. He watched her like a hawk whenever she was in the Great Hall, and she noticed him turning up whenever she joined the ladies. She reminded herself that he was courting Margaret Hay, but he seemed less interested in Margaret and more interested in taunting Laurel.
“Lady Campbell!”
Laurel turned to find a man in a Campbell plaid hurrying toward her. She recalled the man’s name was Michael, and he’d ridden out with Brodie. She looked past Michael’s shoulders, then looked at him as he drew near.
“Ma laird sent me ahead to tell ye that he will be here within the hour. He wishes ye to meet him at the kirk. He—uh—” Michael glanced away nervously. “He—uh—said that ye are to be there, or he will drag ye to yer wedding in naught but yer chemise if he must.”
“An hour? Laird Campbell will be here within the hour?”
“Aye, ma lady,” Michael nodded. Laurel looked in the castle chapel’s direction and was ready to run there now. But she forced herself to be reasonable. She was going to stand before the entire court and pledge herself to Brodie just as he would to her. She wore one of her plainer gowns, and her hair hung in a loose braid down her back. She had time to make herself more presentable, and she wanted to look her best for Brodie.
“Does the king ken yet?”
“Nay. I was on ma way to the Privy Council when I spotted ye, ma lady.”
“Thank you, Michael. Inform the king and assure him that I will be there, ready for Laird Campbell to join me.” The two parted ways, and Laurel dashed to her chamber. There wasn’t time to bathe and dry her hair, so she washed with the basin and ewer, rubbing lavender oil into her skin when she finished. She sat before Ina as the maid created an exquisite coiffure while Laurel tried to relax. Her emotions were a jumble, vacillating from joy and relief that Brodie was safe and on his way to nervousness and excitement to see him, impatience to touch him, and trepidation about standing before the entire court to say their vows. She would have rather avoided the public scrutiny, but she’d known it was coming.
“Which gown will ye wear, ma lady?” Ina broke into her thoughts.
“The new one. I’m glad that I finished it last eve.”
“Laird Campbell will be reight chuffed with himself for having chosen such a bonnie bride. Nay one will be saying ye’re livin’ tally again,” Ina beamed.
“People don’t believe we handfasted?” Laurel gasped. “They think we were living in sin for two days?”
“Och, people blather aboot aught. But dinna take it to heart, ma lady. They will all see when Laird Campbell kisses ye. And I ken he will. And likely before the end of the ceremony.”
Laurel appreciated Ina trying to lift her spirits, but it wasn’t working. She remained quiet while Ina wove the ribbons through the eyelets, then cinched the gown closed. When her maid finished, she peered into the looking glass. She thought she looked attractive, but she prayed Brodie would think so too.
“Will ye walk with me to the kirk?” Laurel asked absentmindedly as she swept her gaze over the chamber. She prayed it was the last time she would see the inside of it.
“Of course, ma lady,” Ina nodded. Laurel returned the older woman’s smile before they left the chamber and made their way to the kirk.
Twenty
“He’s not coming.”
Laurel heard the stage whisper and the ensuing laughter. She’d been standing on the kirk steps for twenty minutes. She’d expected Brodie fifteen minutes ago, but she reminded herself that there were plenty of reasons why he hadn’t arrived yet. Michael, the Campbell guard, could only estimate how long it would take, but he couldn’t guarantee it. Laurel kept her chin high as she ignored the mocking stares.
But when another thirty minutes passed, Laurel couldn’t keep the unease from taking hold. Brodie was nearly an hour late, and she feared he wasn’t coming. She glanced around for Michael, but he wasn’t among the crowd. She wondered why her husband’s warrior wouldn’t be at the kirk to attend his laird’s wedding. The guard’s absence sent Laurel’s mind into a tailspin of why Brodie wasn’t there and how he wouldn’t arrive for the wedding.
“This is pointless. It grows cold and dark. The
mon grew some sense and is likely tucked away with a willing and welcoming woman at Kilchurn.”
Laurel struggled not to cry, hearing her exact fear voiced aloud. A handfast wasn’t binding like a marriage performed in a church. Either party could repudiate it, and it would end after a year and a day if the couple didn’t marry before a priest by then. Brodie could leave her at court and find another woman to marry, and there was nothing Laurel could do.
“Leave her here just like he has,” a woman’s voice floated to Laurel.
“Nay. I wish to see how long she waits before she realizes he isn’t coming,” another woman responded.
Monty and Donnan, along with the Ross guards, stood behind her, but neither had spoken to her when they arrived. She didn’t know if she was further humiliated by having her clansmen with her or if they gave her courage. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of her wildly fluctuating emotions as the minutes dragged on. She didn’t want to accept that Brodie wasn’t coming. She was more inclined to send men out to search for him, but she wouldn’t make a fool of herself by suggesting such a thing, at least not where others could hear. She would ask Monty if she had to.
The last rays of sunlight disappeared as dusk drew to an end. Laurel noticed people drifting away from the kirk, and she didn’t blame them. They’d been congregating outside the kirk for nearly two hours, and all she could do was stand looking toward the portcullis. The crowd abandoned any discretion and spoke as though she could neither see nor hear them. Her resilience faded as it grew dark. She no longer had the strength to stand proudly, ignoring the constant insults. The king and queen had already abandoned the crowd. The king promised Laurel that they would return “if” Brodie appeared. When she flinched, King Robert realized how he misspoke and apologized. But now Laurel believed the man was wiser than she.
A Hellion at the Highland Court: A Rags to Riches Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 9) Page 16