by Alisa Adams
“Ye are happy he is dead, Miss Munro? Ye say ye could have killed him?” he asked her softly as his eyes went to the locket that disappeared out of sight between her breasts.
Mery looked startled for a moment. She looked up at Charlotte Lynn and then back to Lawrence. “I suppose I am both happy and relieved,” she said haltingly as her face burned bright red. “As for killing the mon, he deserved tae die is all I can say!”
Lawrence held his hand out to Darling.
Cristianna and Serena gently pushed her forward.
Darling needed no encouragement. She walked unerringly up to him and took his hand.
Lawrence looked down at her beautiful face as she looked back at him with her face calm, though her eyes were filled with tumultuous emotions.
“In the box,” she mouthed up to him.
He shook his head at her as his jaw tightened. He squeezed her hand and looked over to his friends, War and Sandolf. “Bind our hands together,” he said in a commanding voice for all to hear.
“Por que? Why?” Darling asked in surprise.
Law looked down into her deep, soft, brown eyes. He focused on only her. “I am keeping you.”
Darling gasped. “What does that mean? You are keeping me? As your prisoner? Tying my hands to you?”
“Nay. I am keeping ye as my wife,” he said in a loud voice for all to hear. “Tie our hands,” he said again to Sandolf and War. He looked down at Darling. “Ye said ye trusted me.”
Darling closed her mouth, but her eyes flashed angrily at him. She did not know what this was about.
Sandolf stepped forward with a ribbon that had been quickly given to him from Cristianna’s hair.
Both he and Cristianna were smiling as Sandolf tied the soft ribbon around their hands.
Serena and War were standing side by side, smiling as well.
“Wait!” Flain said loudly as he motioned for Oger to follow him. The two men hurried forward. Oger bent down to brush the sand off the bottom of Darling’s skirt, then pulled the ivory undersleeves of her shift to puff dramatically out of the slits in the emerald sleeves that were attached by ribbon ties to the top of her stays.
Flain looked at Darling’s hair and smiled. He motioned for her to bend her head to him as he pulled her pearl French hood out of one of his pockets. “I found it on the beach where ye left it,” he said as he placed it on her head. The pearls framed her face and gleamed within her dark tendrils. “There, ye look charming,” he said with a proud smile and a wink as he and Oger backed away just as quickly as they had come forward.
Darling’s fingers trembled as she touched the pearls within her hair. She felt Lawrence squeeze her other hand gently within his. She lifted her chin and tightened her knees to stop them from quivering. She suddenly felt lightheaded as she looked at all the people watching her expectantly.
“Go on, Captain!” Flain said with a wave of his hand.
Lawrence nodded to the two men that he had pulled out of the sea after sinking their ship so many years ago. They had been indefatigable in their loyalty and attachment to serving at his side since.
Lawrence turned to face the crowd of people in the cavern. “I stand here, in front of God and all of you with this woman at my side.” He turned to stare down at Darling, whose mouth was open again in surprise. “I vow to take this woman, Darling MacRae DeLeon, as my wife. As her husband, I vow to protect her with my own life willingly. I vow to be true and good to her, always. I vow to share my body, my heart, and all that is mine with her.”
Darling looked up at him and then around at the people staring back at her. Cristianna and Serena were beaming blissfully.
“You are marrying me?” she whispered up to him.
“Aye,” he said in a gruff voice. “Will ye have me as yer husband?” he asked in a suddenly nervous tone. When she hesitated, he added, “Ye need my protection; ye must trust me,” His voice had become firm, almost commanding.
Darling looked at him for a long moment. Images of him flooded her mind, pouring out of all the little boxes she had put away in her heart. Boxes filled with the longing for her father to love her, knowing he did not care at all about her. Boxes of this man, standing tall and strong and good in front of her. Images of him holding her in the rain, images of him kneeling on the beach, whispering words of love to her.
She straightened her back and leaned forward to whisper up to him, “Do not command a woman to marry you, MacLeod.” Then she swallowed and turned to face the people gathered. “Si,” she said in an unwavering voice. “I stand here, in front of God and all of you with this man at my side. I vow to take Captain—”
“’Tis actually admiral,” Lawrence whispered to her with a crooked grin. “Then ye may say whatever is in yer heart, or nae.”
She tilted her head a bit as she took in that bit of information about him being an admiral. She would think about what that meant tomorrow, not today.
She looked up at him with a small smile. “I vow to take Admiral Lawrence MacLeod as my husband. As his wife, I vow to protect him with my own life willingly. I vow to be true and good to him, always. I vow to share my body, my heart, and all that is mine, with him. I vow to ease him when he is worried and to remind him to put his cares away in a box and take charge of his emotional nature, just as I do. I vow to keep him on this path he has chosen away from pirating.”
Darling looked out at the people gathered in the cave. All eyes were on her. “Mi madre told me that clan means family.” She blushed and swallowed, trying to find her words. “I have never had a family, but I am happy to now be a part of yours. I also vow to help make Kinloch a home, the home of the MacLeod clan. I am so proud that you all have left your pirating ways.” When they stared at her, some with wide eyes, others murmuring, she added, “And I am keeping all of you. If MacLeod can keep me, I can keep you. You all have a home at Kinloch. For as long as you cease your pirating, that is.”
There came a moment of silence, and then a rousing chorus of happy words for the newly married couple was shouted from the crowd.
“To our Laird and Lady MacLeod of Kinloch Keep!”
“To our Lady of Kinloch Castle!”
“To the MacLeod clan’s new home!”
Lawrence had to shake himself from his reaction at her words, and to his men’s reaction. She had won over his crew’s hearts with that pretty speech.
He leaned down and swept her lips in a hard, hot kiss of ownership, claiming her in front of everyone as his wife.
That evening there was plenty of food passed around in celebration for everyone to partake of: fresh fish, dried beef, more bannocks and sausages and cheeses. And of course ale, cider, and whiskey.
Someone pulled out a bagpipe and fiddle. Music echoed throughout the cavern.
Lawrence and Darling were joined by Sandolf and War as well as Serena and Cristianna, who was still smiling with delight as they ate and drank.
Lawrence leaned down to whisper in Darling’s ear, “Ye havenae eaten much.”
She trembled slightly as she shrugged her shoulders and looked up at him.
He studied her worried eyes. “Dinnae fash yerself aboot tonite. Ye will become my wife when we have a bed. Ye’ll sleep next tae me, but I’ll nae have our wedding night be on the floor of this cave—” He stopped himself. “Sards, I cannae believe I said such a glaikit thing. Forgive me?”
Darling nodded and smiled as she looked up into the warmth she saw in his blue eyes. “It” would not happen tonight. Not in this cave. Too soon, she thought, after that man attacked me. How kind of him. How considerate. And then, Goodness, how I love this man! She stilled with that thought. She did love him. She loved this man who was now her husband. She realized what he meant when he had said, “get used to the rain,” and what he meant when he said he was “keeping her.” She sighed. He was telling her that she was his, just as he was hers.
“Law?” she said with a big smile. “I am keeping you.” She laughed at the surprised and pleased look
on his face as she pulled his head down for a kiss.
That night they slept together, wrapped in his tartan, their arms around one another. His mouth brushed hers lightly, again, and then again because he could not resist. He was arrogantly pleased to note that her eyes had become instantly cloudy with her passion as she stared up at him in the dim firelight. He leaned down and took her mouth with his again.
Their kisses became long and hot and deep as his tongue explored her sweet mouth, rubbing against her tongue, teaching her this age-old prelude to love. He liked her bold demand of him as she rubbed her tongue at first timidly, and then boldly back against his, the sounds of her tiny moans and soft whimpers as she tasted him at her leisure. She was threatening his intentions to go slow, to only kiss her this night.
Their kisses inevitably became longer, hotter, and increasingly passionate, overwhelming him with his desire for her.
He finally dragged his mouth from hers and tucked her head under his chin.
“Sleep, Darling,” he said hoarsely as he tried to calm his body and breathing. He was shocked that this innocent woman had almost made him lose control.
Darling woke up the next morning with him wrapped around her, his strong arms holding her, his warm chest to her back, his leg thrown over hers.
She turned in his arms to face him in the dimness of the morning twilight. She nuzzled his neck and ran her fingers lightly through his dark golden-brown hair until he stirred and looked sleepily down into her eyes. He nipped her lips. “Wife,” was all he said. His voice was heavy with contentment.
“Husband,” she whispered up to him, marveling at the crystal blue of his slumberous eyes. She sighed as she kissed him back.
Only a few of the men were up and about, staying quiet as they stirred fires back to life and went out of the cave.
Lawrence rose from their tartan blanket to get an early start on the day, urging her to get some more sleep.
Darling closed her eyes and dreamed of him.
When Darling awoke later, she realized that she had not slept that well in a long, long time.
11
Darling was having some hot tea with bannocks and porridge with kale as she sat with Cristianna and Serena.
When they finished, they left the cave to see about chores for the day.
They were met by the men and horses. So many horses. They were the horses from the San Gabriel and the Lion.
Lawrence saw Darling and spurred his big, brown stallion into a trot to her. He held Tommy by her reins, leading her forward beside him, her big, dramatic trot bouncing up and down slowly compared to Lawrence’s stallion.
Darling’s eyes widened as she saw that her husband was wearing plated armor, and so was his horse! And Tommy!
“What is this?” she said as she looked up at her spectacular husband. He looked so big, so intimidating in his bright, silver armor. He wore an open-faced helmet with an attached gorget to protect his neck.
His shoulders were impossibly broader with highly decorated steel pauldrons over each shoulder attached to the rerebrace. The besagews or rondels that protected his armpits matched the decoration on his pauldrons, and that same decoration was on the steel joint at his elbows. Even his helmet had this scrollwork, all overlaid with gold. His arms were covered in plate as were his gauntlets, which had more intricate scrollwork. He wore hip tasses, and she could see the riveted chainmail he wore underneath. Down his long, muscular thighs and calves, there were plated tassets, knee cops and greaves, with intricate rivets so he could move easily.
On his breastplate, there was a lion rampant, overlaid in gold as well.
She walked forward and touched his horse’s shoulder as she looked up at him with a smile.
“This is Leonidas,” Lawrence said with a proud smile. “He travels onboard the ship with me, as do all of my men’s horses for when we must sail tae do battle on other lands. Most of our horses were on the Lion, however. ’Tis a larger ship.” He lowered his head in deference to her. “Leonidas is one of the horses that ye saved.”
Darling nodded. “The great warrior Leonidas of Sparta, one of the greatest warriors ever.”
She looked at his horse and then Tommy. Both of the horses were in full barding, including beautifully wrought chanfrons to cover their heads. They had hinged cheek plates and pieces to protect their eyes.
Lawrence’s stallion had a rondel between his eyes with a single long spike.
Darling marveled at the spike. Leonidas also wore plates of armor along his neck, his chest, and over his haunches and croup, just as Tommy did. Darling called to her horse.
She gasped as Tommy trotted proudly forward to her with her neck high and curled in an elegant and dramatic arch.
“Proud of yourself, are you, my girl?” she whispered to her horse as she took the reins. Lawrence had given her reins that were covered in steel rings, so the reins could not be cut and her horse taken from her.
Tommy’s chanfron was much more elaborate and intricate than Leonidas’s. Her chanfron had two golden scrolling horns in front of each ear. There was more gold scrollwork down the center of the face of the chanfron. The plates over her neck were carefully hinged to allow her the natural, elegant arch of her neck.
Darling looked back to Lawrence. “Is there a battle to be fought?”
Law grinned tightly, “We leave for Kinloch this morn. My men report that a large group of MacKenzies has been spotted watching the keep.”
“So, you arrive with a show of force?”
“Aye,” he said.
“And I am to come. You will not let me stay to meet my father?”
Lawrence’s jaw tightened. He looked every bit the warrior as his blue eyes glinted down at her. “I thought ye gave up on him coming?”
“I told you; he will not come for me, but he will come for his ship, and the gold,” Darling said quickly as her eyes flashed angrily at him. “I told you I can send him away. I will tell him the gold is gone to the bottom of the sea. Dios mios, I can keep him from hurting more people!”
Lawrence studied her. “Let me protect ye, Lion. Just this once will ye let me protect ye?” He looked past the beach, inland. “Kinloch is nae far from the sea. Ye can still see him if ye choose. As a daughter who may wish tae say farewell tae her father.”
Darling sighed dramatically. “Was all this armor on the San Gabriel, MacLeod? Some of it looks Castilian.”
Lawrence looked around at his men, who all wore armor as well. Their horses did, too. Though some had plain breastplates, they were infantrymen and archers.
“We have collected armor from all over, and some we have had made for ourselves or our horses individually. It must fit well. To answer yer question, aye, some is from Castile, some is from France.” He shrugged, his armor barely made a sound as he moved his large muscles.
Darling’s lips turned up into a firm smile. “If my horse wears armor, so should I.”
Lawrence expected this. He nodded to one of his men; while he waited, he said, “Can ye suffer to cover all that beautiful hair in a helmet? Can ye suffer through the sweat and dust? Aye, even the rust of the helmet landing on yer smooth, clean skin?”
Darling made a scoffing sound.
“Will ye be bound in a breastplate and fasten greaves over the tender skin of yer legs, Lion?”
Darling stood up straight as she raised her chin. “Si, si to all of this.”
Lawrence nodded. “I expected nothing less of ye.” He motioned to the man behind him to come forward. In his hands, he had a breastplate fashioned for a woman. It was strikingly decorated with scrolls of golden vines and flowers and tiny gamboling horses within the scrollwork. He also held a helmet with matching work on it, as well as the arm pieces, gauntlets, and calf greaves.
Darling gasped and stifled herself from rushing forward to take them.
“Weapons, too?” she asked with excitement.
“What weapon are ye proficient in, Lion?” Lawrence asked with great interest.
“Well...” Should I tell him I am particularly good with knives? Her mother’s groom had taught her. She had also whiled away the time flinging knives at the wall when she could not go out, much to her mother’s consternation when she saw the damage to the wall and the knives.
Law did not wait for her to speak. He nodded to another of his men to get a battle-ax. “Dinnae fash. A battle-ax is a good and easy weapon. Just swing it at anyone who comes tae close tae ye. Better than cracking yer head intae someone else’s head,” he said with a rueful grin. “I dinnae even want them tae get that close.”
Cristianna nudged her big draft horse forward through some of the men standing around Darling and Lawrence. Darling looked up at her and found herself gasping again.
Cristianna sat upon her huge Clydesdale wearing a breastplate that was black with silver flowers engraved on it. She had her helmet under one arm. It was blackened steel as well. Darling was amazed at her transformation from that first day on the beach where she had met her. With her black hair and silvery eyes, her long, pale grey gown blowing out behind her, and wearing the black armor with the silver etchings, she looked every bit the warrior. Primrose was also in full barding. The horse looked massive in the blackened steel.
Cristianna smiled down at the look of surprise on Darling’s face. She tapped the sword over her shoulder in its baldric and the bow and quiver of arrows over the other shoulder. “Dinnae be so surprised. We Scots women are known to fight alongside our men. For many generations. God help us if the day ever comes when they make us sit in front of the hearth doing naught and nae allowed tae help fight for our home, our people, or our lands. Didnae ye name yer own horse after a warrior queen?” She laughed softly. “Come, I shall help ye put yer armor on,” she said.