Seduced by the Noble Highlander

by Scott, Ann Marie

  Crissy could find nothing to say. Whenever Bryce’s name was mentioned she had a strange feeling of foreboding. As long as Bryce was alive there would be danger to the Crawfords. She pushed the thought out of her head. Tomorrow was her wedding day and nothing was going to spoil it.

  Just then, David walked in, carrying a bottle of wine. He was smiling slightly as he put it on the table and faced them. Three faces looked up at him expectantly.

  “I have something to say,” he said awkwardly, then paused, looking at the floor. When he raised his head, he looked directly at Crissy. “Crissy, you have been nothing but polite to me since you were betrothed to my son, and I have been rude and disrespectful to you. I look back on my behavior with shame. Will you accept my apology?”

  Crissy stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then she smiled. “Aye, M’laird, an’ thank ye so much. Ye have made me so happy!”

  Then she sprang out of her seat and threw her arms around his neck. David looked shocked for an instant, then he laughed and kissed her cheek. “Tomorrow you can call me ‘Father,’” he said, smiling. He poured out wine for all of them.

  “To happiness!” he said joyfully. Laura noticed that he had said nothing about the inheritance.

  20

  The Wedding

  The day of the wedding was blustery and cold, but nobody minded. Crissy was “a few jitters short of a nervous wreck,” as Isla had said.

  “Why are you so nervous?” Isla asked. “Lewis is the kindest man ever born—apart from Magnus, that is!”

  Annie let out a peal of mirth, pointing at Isla. “Ye should hae seen her! Tremblin’ like a leaf, she wis!”

  They all joined in her laughter, then they stood back to admire Crissy.

  She looked regal in her teal blue dress with its tight waist, and flared skirt with the long train at the back. Her slender neck rose like a swan’s out of the deep V of the neckline, and her long, fair hair, piled in a crown on top of her head, was studded with tiny rosebuds. Between her breasts hung the gold Celtic cross that had been stolen and retrieved, its ruby glowing like fire in its center.

  “Crissy, you look like a queen!” Isla said rapturously. “Lewis will be so proud!”

  Annie kissed her. “Ye’re jist like me—an ordinary lassie—but the day ye ARE a queen, yer Highness!” Then she put a posy of white roses into Crissy’s hands and curtsied.

  When Lewis turned and saw Crissy she took his breath away; he had never seen her look so beautiful except when she was wearing nothing at all. He smiled and reached out his hands, and then she took them, giving her bouquet to Isla.

  Father Nathaniel was performing the nuptial Mass. Like most priests there was nothing he enjoyed more than joining together two young people in holy matrimony, and he performed the ceremony with a smile on his face the whole way through. The church was packed with Lewis’s few friends, whom Isla had begged him to invite, and all the castle staff who had been packed into the chapel. At the very back, some of the children had climbed on chairs or even their parents’ shoulders.

  When it came to the vows some of the women were weeping quite openly.

  “Now, I have the privilege of inviting these two young people to make their vows of love to each other,” Father Nathaniel announced. “Lewis, since you are the protector, will you go first?”

  Lewis smiled at Crissy, and there was so much love in that smile that Crissy almost felt that words were unnecessary.

  “Crissy, you are my reason for living, the one true love of my life, and the air that I breathe. I would die for you. I love you more than I can say, Chrissie—will you be mine?”

  “Now, Crissy, as the nurturer, will you make your vows to Lewis?”

  Crissy smiled, but her face became solemn again as she spoke. “Lewis, you are the only man in my life I have ever loved. I am a humble wummin an’ no sae good wi’ words, but I will follow ye an’ be faithful tae ye for a’ the days of oor lives. Aye, Lewis, I will be your wife—in this life an’ the next. ”

  They kissed, and then Father Nathaniel blessed them all.

  No one had noticed that right at the back of the church a lone figure had slipped in stealthily. It was Bryce Crawford.

  Bryce had been at the Brothers of St Peter for over six months and knew that if he stayed there much longer he would go mad. It had taken him a while to work out his plan, but he had done it at last.

  He had managed to become assigned to kitchen duties, and the kitchen was situated just beside the apothecary’s workshop, so he was able to sneak in and get some poppy milk every day till he had a fair supply.

  He took milk to the twenty brothers every morning, so on the appointed day he dropped a little into each brother’s goblet. One by one they fell asleep.

  Bryce thought about beating each one with a cast iron pan, the way they had beaten him, but he let all the inmates escape instead. I wish I could be here to see what happens, he thought regretfully.

  His monk’s robe ensured that he could sell indulgences, so he bought a good berth on the boat and sailed in comfort all the way to Aberdeen, where he got another farmer’s cart to Crawford Castle.

  When he got to the village of Auchterlinn he was overjoyed to hear about the wedding, and Lewis’s disinheritance. Here was a chance to finally get revenge on Lewis.

  However, since the guards knew his face, he kept his hood drawn down and assumed a deep, throaty voice. His monk’s robe assured his entry. He had bought a short sword in Aberdeen and now considered himself suitably prepared.

  He stood behind his family for a while, waiting for the right moment. He wanted them to be husband and wife before he made his move.

  Never have the words “till death do us part” been more appropriate, he thought savagely, fingering the sword under his robe.

  “I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the priest said happily. “Lewis, you may kiss Crissy, and may you both be as happy as you are today for the rest of your lives.”

  They kissed softly, smiling into each other’s eyes, then they turned to face the congregation.

  That was the moment all hell broke loose.

  “LEWIS!” Bryce screamed from the back of the church. “Are you mad? This is no lady! Is she worth giving it all up for—a little low-class gold digger? Think, man!” Bryce had worked himself up into a rage, seeing the brother he hated being married to the beautiful woman he loved. If he killed Lewis now, his brother’s life would be over, but if he killed Crissy, Lewis would suffer forever. Bryce had no love, no money, and no freedom, and it was all Lewis’s fault. David Crawford had always favored him.

  Lewis stood immobile, his hand on his sword hilt, silent for a moment. “You may apologize to my wife before you go to the dungeons, Bryce,” he said evenly. “Even if everything you said was true, which it is not, I would still love Crissy with all my heart. What have you got to show for your life except the misery and destruction you have left behind you? Nothing!”

  Just then, David tried to intervene, but Lewis pushed him back.

  “Ah, Father!” Bryce smiled with mock bonhomie. “Welcome! Now you can see your two sons together in brotherly unity at last. Just think, Father. You have imprisoned one son and disinherited the other. You have no one to leave your estate to! So, Laird Crawford, it will now be sold to the highest bidder, or, God forbid, forfeit to the crown.”

  Lewis decided not to pursue the futile argument any more. “Put down your sword, Bryce,” he said heavily. “And I will put down mine.”

  The two brothers stared at each other in a test of wills, but Bryce dropped his gaze first. However, he had no intention of dropping his sword.

  Suddenly, powered by a demon of fury so strong he could not control it, Bryce ran, roaring, down the aisle towards Crissy. She froze, her eyes wide with terror.

  However, Lewis had trained with warriors, whereas Bryce was unskilled in martial arts. Even barehanded he could have deflected Bryce’s sword, but now instinct and training came to his aid. Added to that,
he had lightning-fast reflexes, and the sword by his side seemed to jump out of its scabbard into his hand. He stepped in front of Crissy.

  “Run!” he yelled. Crissy turned, but Bryce changed direction too and grabbed a hold of her long sleeve, pulling her back towards him. Lewis ripped the sleeve out of his fist and for a split second the two brothers stared into each other’s eyes with mutual loathing and hatred, then Bryce tried to bring his sword up underneath Lewis’s weapon and into his heart, but he was too late. Lewis took a step back, giving himself more room to maneuver, then thrust the point of his sword under Bryce’s ribs.

  Bryce fell immediately, his wound pouring blood, but strangely, he was smiling.

  “Lewis,” he said hoarsely. Lewis knelt by his side, waiting for some deathbed penitence. Father Nathaniel came to give him Extreme Unction but Bryce waved him away. “I curse you, Lewis.” He paused to catch his breath. “And Father—” His voice was weakening and he had to force the words out with great difficulty. “We will meet—in hell.” Then he burst into a hacking cough that brought up bright gouts of blood, and his head rolled sideways. Bryce Crawford, lying in a pool of his own blood, was no more.

  Lewis stood up, stunned. He was unable to take in what had just happened till Crissy came and put her arms around his neck, weeping tears of fear and fright.

  “Crissy,” he whispered. “He was trying to kill you. Did he hurt you?”

  She shook her head. “Did he hurt you, my love?” she asked, searching his face.

  “No.” He gave her a tender smile. “I was more worried about you.”

  “He wanted tae die,” Crissy said sadly. “He had nae hope o’ gettin’ away again. He wanted tae die.”

  Lewis nodded in agreement. Bryce’s body was still lying where it had fallen, the sword obscenely sticking out of his chest. David watched as Lewis pulled it out, then laid an altar cloth over him. It was soaked in blood in seconds. He said nothing, and his face betrayed not a flicker of emotion before he turned and walked away. After the first few moments, Laura, in shock, looked at the body of her dead son and shook her head. “You know, Lewis, they say that when someone dies they look peaceful.” She shook her head. “Look at him. He is not peaceful.”

  Bryce’s mouth was open wide and his brows were drawn down. His eyes were still open, staring at nothing. Lewis closed them then embraced his mother.

  “Forgive me mother,” he whispered.

  “He was an evil man, Lewis,” she replied, “and the world is better off without him. It is my fault for giving birth to him at all. Anyway, you did what you did out of love for Crissy so there is nothing to be sorry for.”

  “Thank you, Mother,” Lewis said gratefully. He ordered two guards to come and take the body away.

  David came back to stand beside his family as they took Bryce away. He had a piece of paper in his hand, which he handed to Lewis.

  “The deeds to the estate,” Lewis said incredulously. He looked up at his father. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

  David nodded. “I have reinstated your inheritance. It was going to be your wedding present, and I was going to announce it at the wedding. Congratulations, Laird Crawford, Lady Crawford.” He smiled, then sighed. “What a strange day, to have lost one son and gained another.”

  “You gained a daughter,” Laura pointed out. “We both did.”

  “Indeed we did.” David smiled at Crissy.

  “Aye, Faither, ye did!” she agreed, leaning her head against his shoulder.

  They had a week’s token mourning for Bryce, during which time the family received counseling from Father Nathaniel before life went on as normal. The family had a simple ceremony then buried Bryce in unconsecrated ground outside the village. Finally, Crissy and Lewis were able to begin their marriage in earnest.

  21

  The New Bedroom

  The bedroom was a glorious surprise.

  There was a gorgeously carved and painted shield bearing the Lewis clan coat of arms above the door, and a straight round pillar at either side. At each corner was a rampant stag, gilded with silver leaf. Crissy gasped in wonder when she saw it, but could not imagine that it would last too long in the bleak Highland winter; however, at this moment it was beautiful.

  Lewis made her pause at the door. “Wait,” he said firmly. “Not one step more.”

  Crissy laughed, but obeyed.

  The shutters were all closed, but between the cracks she could see the golden glow of candlelight becoming brighter. Lewis came out and shut the door behind him, looking very mysterious.

  “Close your eyes, Wife!” he ordered. She obeyed him, and then felt herself being lifted off her feet and set down a moment later. “Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

  When Crissy opened her eyes she gasped in amazement. The room had changed beyond all recognition.

  The stone floor had been replaced with polished oak which reflected the light of the twenty or so candles lighting up the room. It was partly covered with silken Turkish rugs in bright jewel colors. Two tapestry couches faced each other on either side of the mantlepiece, which was carved to match the one on the door, except that this was made of pink marble. The fire had not been lit, but Crissy knew that when it was, the polished stone would glow like gold.

  She looked up at the gilded cornices on the roof, marveling at the intricacies of their molding. The one in the center of the room was enormous and magnificent, shaped like the rays of a brightly shining sun, surrounding the crystal chandelier, in which there was room for dozens of candles. It too was unlit, but she knew that when it was, each crystal would make a rainbow of its own and cast them onto the walls, painting them with every color imaginable.

  There were embroidered wall hangings everywhere. Crissy saw flowers, heather-covered hillsides, horses, and the castle itself standing proudly at the top of its hill. Some of them looked familiar, and it was only when she went up close to them that she could see why.

  “Yer mither did these,” she murmured. Laura always sewed a little ornate “L.L.” at the corner of her work. “Lewis, it is…” she shook her head, lost for words. Crissy had never seen anything as beautiful as her new bed. It was made of mahogany, and in the candlelight it glowed ruby red. The posts were cleverly carved like slender trees whose branches spread out to hold up the pale cream satin canopy. The quilt too was made of cream satin, embossed with a rose pattern with matching plump silk pillows. There was no chandelier here, but there were six silver candelabras that held five candles each, every one shining with its own golden halo.

  Flowers everywhere, in glazed pots, and in crystal vases, lending their fragrance to the warm ambience of the room. She could smell roses, and the heady scent of carnations. So much love had gone into it that it brought tears to her eyes.

  “Do you like it?” he whispered in her ear. She nodded, unable to take her eyes off the bed. “There is only one thing wrong with it.”

  “Whit is it?” she asked, puzzled.

  “It is a virgin,” he said sadly.

  “I see,” Crissy joined in with the joke. “What can we dae aboot it?”

  “This.” Lewis lifted her up and threw her on the bed. He swept her dress up over her hips and lowered his mouth to her secret place, teasing her with his tongue till she was moaning and writhing with pleasure, calling out his name again and again, holding his head so that he did not pull away. When ecstasy took her she clawed her hands into his hair and was about to scream when he clamped his hand over her mouth again. His eyes were boring into hers and for a moment she was afraid of him, but she knew that he would never hurt her; this was just another kind of lovemaking.

  “Open your mouth,” Lewis said hoarsely, then pushed his hardness into it. She lay back and pleasured him with her tongue and her lips, moving her head up and down, licking him and scraping him with her teeth before he pulled out of her mouth and thrust himself inside her. “Oh, God, Crissy—what are you doing to me?” He gasped as he felt himself sink into the softness of her f
lesh. He put a hand on her breast but could not feel it properly through the dress, so he pulled the neckline down and it tore with a ragged squeal. He pulled out of her again to touch his tongue to her clit, but left her just as she was about to come, then smiled at her wickedly.

  “Beg me,” he whispered. “Beg me for your release!”

  “Please—please, Lewis,” she whispered hoarsely before she felt him plunge into her again. He felt her close around him and, as he made love to his wife for the first time, he knew that his whole life had been leading to this perfect moment. He groaned in rapture as his climax hit him, arching his neck back, the powerful muscles of his chest straining with the force of it. The sight of him made Crissy convulse with ecstasy again, and as he withdrew from her, she took his shaft in her hand and put it in her mouth, running her tongue around its tip to give him one last moment of pleasure. He laughed and shuddered with it one last time. It had taken only a few minutes, but it was enough to make her his, and after all, they had a whole lifetime ahead of them.

  He cradled her in his arms afterwards, cupping one of his breasts in his hands.

  “Father Nathaniel called me the protector,” he said firmly, “and I will protect you with my life from everything harmful, and I will defend our children, if we are blessed with them. How many would you like? I will try to oblige!”

  “At least five,” she whispered, laughing.

  “At least,” he laughed and kissed her again. “I love you, Lady Crawford. I love everything about you. I have dreamed about being married to you for years, ever since I spilled that milk over you.”

  She laughed. “We wasted a lot o’ time, did we no’, sweetheart?”

  “It did not help at all that you ran away from me!” he protested, laughing. “But we are together now, Lady Crawford, and nothing will ever part us again.”