Highland Grace

by K. E. Saxon

  She lifted her head. “Sw—?” she began in confusion, but giggled when she saw the berry tart in his hand.

  He took a bite of the tart and chewed. “Mmm. You know how much I love these comfits.” Then he dribbled some of its juice onto the tip of her breast and licked it off.

  She moaned and turned onto her back, arching.

  “You liked that, did you?” he purred. This time, he allowed even more of the juice to dribble onto her breast. It ran down the sides and onto the mattress. “My pardon,” he said, “you may sleep on my side of the bed tonight.” Her only answer was to press against him. Taking the hint, he positioned his palm under her breast and lifted it before opening his mouth wide and drawing it deeply into its recesses. He suckled her then, massaging the breast until he got what he craved. A blissful moan rumbled up from deep inside him. This—This, he thought, must be the ambrosia of which the ancients had spoken.

  Jesslyn gasped in shock and desire as she felt him draw nourishment from her.

  After a moment, Bao raised his head and gazed into her passion-filled eyes. “I hope you don’t mind, I wanted a bit of milk with my tart.”

  Thankfully more amused than shocked by the bawdy jest, she chuckled and shook her head before lifting it from its resting place on the pillow and kissing him, sucking and nibbling the remnants of the tart and milk from his bottom lip.

  “I want you inside me, Bao.”

  He groaned and tucked his head into the curve of her neck. “Believe me, my love, I want that too. But we cannot.”

  She shoved at his shoulder and he lifted up and caught her eye.

  “Aye, we can. ‘Tis been long enough. I spoke to your Grandmother about it and she says that I have all the signs of being fully healed. Please. Please let us just try.”

  Bao wanted to say no, he really did, but somehow what came out of his mouth was, “Aye, all right. But I’ll have to prepare you first.”

  She grinned. “I was hoping you would say that.”

  “Spread your legs, vixen.”

  She did and he settled his head between them. After dribbling berry juice over the hood of her clitoris, he lapped and nibbled, then started a gentle suction. When he’d brought her to peak twice, when he could easily slide his finger into her, when he could feel the soft swell of her inner flesh, touch her turgid bud with his tongue, he knew she was ready to receive him.

  He slid up her limp form, leaving hot kisses along the way until at last he was cradled by her womanhood. “Open your eyes, Jesslyn.”

  Her lids drifted open and he stroked the hair off her damp brow with the palm of his hand. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did more than that, she wrapped her arms around him as well. And then she lifted up, just as he began to press down. In the next second, he was home. “Oh, God. I love you so much,” he said and scorched her mouth with a long, deep, ravenous kiss. He started to move then, slow, gentle, and she matched his rhythm.

  He felt her turn her head to his cheek, felt her lips caress the shell of his ear and then she whispered. “I love you, too. Give me another babe—not now, but soon. Next year. All right?”

  “Aye.” A surge of pleasure took him by the shorthairs and his movements grew more rapid. He grasped her hips, held them up so he could plow more deeply.

  She winced.

  He paused. “Am I hurting you?”

  “A little, but…mmm. It feels good, too. Don’t stop.”

  He began to move again. For the next few moments, their cries of passion melded in the room. Both ground out the other’s name as they climaxed, first Jesslyn, then Bao.

  Afterward, when they were both near to unconsciousness, he managed to say, “You are serious? You truly want another babe so quickly?”

  “Aye, I do.” She raised up and propped her head on her hand. “Don’t you?”

  He grinned. “Oh, aye, I surely do.”

  * * *

  EPILOGUE

  It was a bright, warm morn in July when Daniel, Maryn and Nora departed the Maclean keep, heading back to the holding that held Daniel’s heart, back to his mother’s clan, his clan, the MacLaurins. Bao had been officially named laird and chieftain over the Macleans the sennight after Branwenn’s departure, but Daniel had wanted to wait until Nora was older to make the long journey home.

  “I’m going to miss you desperately,” Jesslyn said to Maryn. They stood beside the cart that held her friends’ chests and other belongings. She quickly scanned it to make sure it was well bound with rope.

  Maryn followed the line of Jesslyn’s sight. “Can you believe how much more we’re taking back with us than that with which we arrived?”

  “I know. A babe, for one thing,” she gently teased, giving her friend a quick glance before turning her eyes back to the cargo loaded on the cart. “It seems so long ago now,” she continued wistfully, “so much has changed between us since that time.” She looked back at her friend and grasped her hand in both of her own. “Back then you were a stranger, a rival to the life I’d mapped out for myself and Alleck. But now you are not only my dearest friend, but my sister as well.”

  “Aye,” Maryn replied. “Which means we will see each other again. Often. Daniel promised.”

  Jesslyn laughed. “I made Bao promise the same thing to me! Although, ‘twas not very difficult; he adores his brother, after all. And since Branwenn has been lost to him, he feels an even greater need to keep close ties with his other family members.”

  “Daniel feels the same way,” Maryn said.

  “I wish Grandmother Maclean could have been here,” Jesslyn lamented, squeezing Maryn’s hand.

  “Aye, but with Lara’s death, Aunt Maggie needs help taking care of Callum’s wee daughter.” Callum’s wife had run off with the outcast and permanently marred Giric in the moon after Bealltainn and was found a sennight later. Both were hiding in a cotter’s hut on the Gordon land, with her near death from a fall she’d taken on one of her wild rides across the glen. Callum had been summoned immediately and he had stayed by his wife’s side until she’d finally succumbed to her injuries and passed away.

  “Aye, and Callum needs her comfort as well, I’m sure,” Jesslyn replied.

  Maryn nodded. “He’s always been close to Grandmother Maclean.” She sighed, saying, “Poor Callum, he’s had quite a bad time of it this past year or so.”

  “Aye, he has. But he’s strong and he’s matured over the past moons since I first met him—he’ll be fine.”

  “You are right, I know you are, but I cannot help but worry for him. We’ve been friends for many years and I hate to know he’s suffering so.”

  “He’ll be fine,” Jesslyn repeated, feeling the need to assure herself as well as her friend. She took in a deep breath and slowly released it as she gazed around the courtyard. “This place will seem like a tomb with you and Daniel gone.” She turned her gaze back onto her friend. “And who will I get to do my sewing?” she jested.

  “I know Bao will do it for you, if you ask.” Maryn answered cheekily.

  “Ha! Ha! What a wit you are,” Jesslyn replied with a grin.

  Daniel and Bao walked up beside them then. Daniel put his arm around his wife’s waist, drawing her up against his side. “What has you grinning?” he asked Jesslyn. “Never say you are glad to see us leave, dear friend of mine.”

  Jesslyn’s eyes misted as she gazed at her handsome auburn-haired friend. She ignored his jest and said instead, “Thank you. Thank you for bringing me and Alleck here. Because of you I have another love and a new babe. I have the life I craved, but never thought I’d find again.”

  Daniel placed his hand on Bao’s shoulder and squeezed, giving it a little shake at the same time. “You’re a fine chieftain, Bao. Our grandfather would have been proud to pass on his legacy to you.” Daniel gazed around him, taking in the scenery for the last time. “We must leave now, Laird Donald will be waiting.” Maryn’s father was to meet them along the road and travel with them back to the MacLaurin holding
. He had agreed to a long visit while Maryn settled in as mistress of the MacLaurin keep.

  After a few more moments of final farewells, Daniel, his family, and his entourage departed.

  Jesslyn and Bao stood in the courtyard for quite some time after the dust had finally settled, sad but filled with hope for their future.

  “I meant what I said, you know,” Jesslyn murmured. “I do have the life I craved, the love I craved.”

  Bao turned and wrapped her in his arms, hugging her close. “’Twas my brother that I thanked, but in truth, ‘tis you who have my deepest gratitude. You saved me, lightened my soul, brought depth and meaning to my life.”

  “As did you for me.”

  “Will you meet me later? At our special place?” Bao murmured against her ear.

  “Our special place?” Jesslyn asked in confusion.

  “The waterfall, my love.”

  Jesslyn smiled and sighed, snuggling even further into her husband’s comforting and loving embrace. “Aye, that sounds wonderful. The weather is just right for a swim.”

  “I’m sure Alleck will not mind spending a bit of time with his wee brother and the nurse while we are gone.”

  “Nay, he will not. As a matter of fact, I believe he’s up in the solar with them right now. He’s very sad that Maryn and Daniel had to leave, even tho’ he’ll see them again a few moons hence when he begins his training. I tried, but I couldn’t get him to come down to say farewell to them this morn.”

  “Daniel and Maryn spent some time with him last eve while you were with Bao Li. They said their farewells to each other then,” Bao reassured her.

  Jesslyn nodded, rubbing her cheek against her husband’s chest.

  Bao kissed her forehead.

  They stood that way—content, joyous, and silent—until the terce bell chimed. Then, in unspoken accord, they at last turned and, arm-in-arm, slowly made their way back toward the steps of their home.

  The End

  Thank you for reading

  Highland Grace : Book Two : Highlands Trilogy

  If you enjoyed Highland Grace, I would appreciate it if you would help others enjoy this book, too.

  Lend it. This e-book is lending-enabled, so please, share it with a friend.

  Recommend it. Please help other readers find this book by recommending it to friends, readers’ groups and discussion boards.

  Review it. Please tell other readers why you liked this book by reviewing.

  Author updates can be found at

  http://www.kesaxon.com

  Available May 2012:

  Highland Vengeance

  Book One in the Highlands Trilogy

  By

  K.E. Saxon

  A Family Saga / Adventure Romance

  DANIEL AND MARYN’S STORY

  * * *

  Available November 2012:

  Highland Magic

  Book Three in the Highlands Trilogy

  By

  K.E. Saxon

  A Family Saga / Adventure Romance

  CALLUM AND BRANWENN’S STORY

  * * *

  Excerpt

  HIGHLAND MAGIC : Book Three : Highlands Trilogy

  * * * * *

  PROLOGUE

  Cilgerran Castle, Southern March Region, Cambria

  The Betrothal Feast, July 1205

  Gaiallard de Montfort settled back in his chair and studied the chaos all around him. This betrothal would bring him the demesne he’d been craving, but at a price for which he was growing more resentful as each day passed. He was expected to wed an awkward rustic, a mere girl! He, whom the ladies of the court had given the title ‘golden wolf’, both in and out of the bedchamber. Oh, she was pleasing to look upon. Her dark hair framed her face in a becoming enough manner and accented her most attractive asset: her large eyes bore the color of kings in their amethyst depths. But even his young sister had more curves than this boyish girl. And she was as green as his page—and just as unschooled in the ways of the court, mayhap even more so. How many times now had he been humiliated in front of his comrades by her graceless overtures and simple dress? If he had not given her, as a betrothal gift, the lovely purple velvet dress she now wore with the gold embroidery edging the square neck and sleeves, or the gold silk chemise beneath it, he had no doubt she’d now be wearing that godawful saffron woolen thing she’d worn to at least five of the seven previous evening meals this past sennight. Had she no understanding of the place she would be taking, had already been expected to take by his side? She was no good representative of his position in the hierarchy. In fact, she had made him a laughing-stock at court. And last eve, when she’d stumbled upon him with his sister—well, she would simply have to grow accustomed to such encounters as they were a well-established part of life amongst those of noble birth. He clenched his jaw to keep from groaning aloud in frustration. Why, oh, why had fate not been kinder to him? If all had gone as he’d planned, he’d even now be presiding over the demesne of Castell Crychydd with his chosen mate, Caroline de Montrochet. Now, there was a beauty, a perfect example of nobility, virtue, and womanliness. Gaiallard’s eyes were drawn once more to the trestle table below where the lady in question now sat nibbling a portion of sea fowl.

  * * *

  Branwenn watched her betrothed from the corner of her eye. He’d made it plain these past days that he was not as pleased with this match, with her, as he’d first pretended. And last eve—last eve! She’d stumbled upon him in his sister’s chamber. The poor lass had been in a distressing state, her gown torn and hanging from her shoulder, exposing red marks on her tender arm and chest where the drunken knave had abused and beaten her. Would he have gone further still—done the thing Branwenn feared had been his true purpose, if she had not interrupted his savage attack? And ‘twas clearly not the first time the lass had been the outlet for his violent lust either, for there had been older bruises in plain view as well. She turned her sight on the lass, Alyson, who even now sat much too quietly with her silver-blond head bowed and her hands demurely folded in her lap. The poor dear had barely touched the food on her trencher, nor the wine in her goblet. She was far too young to have been exposed to such lechery, for she surely was not more than twelve summers. Aye, ‘twas truth that according to tradition, she was a woman full-grown, capable of becoming a wife, should her father contract such an arrangement, but in Branwenn’s view, ‘twas much too young an age to be expected to perform such duties.

  Reys ap Gryffyd dipped his head and whispered in her ear, “Have you second thoughts so late in the game, then, Branwenn? If so, you’ve dallied too long, my little dove, for your vows will be heard before the bishop and all this fine assembly in but a few hours’ time at the morrow’s morning mass.”

  Branwenn bit her lip and turned her troubled gaze to the dark-haired, blue-eyed man she’d only discovered to be her kin a mere seven moons past when he’d been the first to cross the threshold of her heart-family’s keep, the Macleans, after the feast of Hogmanay. He’d come there to find her and bring her back to Cambria to wed this flaxen-haired Norman nephew thrice removed to the Earl of Pembroke that sat at her other side. For the marriage would make a blood alliance between her Cambrian cousin, twice removed, Prince Llywelyn, and the Norman usurper, Guillaume le Maréchal, the Earl of Pembroke. And tho’ she liked Reys well, even from their first meeting, she still did not feel the same strong bond with him that she felt for Bao Xiong Maclean, the man who’d raised her, the man who, in her heart, was her brother in truth. Should she tell Reys of her discovery? She’d been debating that very question these past hours since finding her betrothed with his sister. And tho’ the hour was late, she needed some guidance, some words to soothe her worry. “Brother, I have something I must speak with you about in all haste, but it must be in privy, for I have no wish for any here to learn of what I must tell you.”

  Reys had been jesting with her, believing that she was merely uneasy, as any new bride would be, at the prospect of her wedding. He sat forw
ard and truly studied her worried countenance for the first time that eve. With a brief nod, he said, “Meet me in the chapel after supper. ‘Twill be empty, as all here will be enjoying the pipers and players afterward. Say that you wish a few moments alone to pray and light some candles. No one will say you nay, even this eve before you wed, for your desire to pray will be seen as an act of true piety, a great virtue for a new bride.”

  Branwenn’s shoulders relaxed for the first time that eve. With a sigh and a nod, she said, “My thanks.”

  * * *

  An hour later, Branwenn, on her knees in the chapel with her head bowed and her eyes closed, felt someone settle beside her.

  “We are alone now—all are in the great hall enjoying the players. Tell me what troubles you, Branwenn,” Reys whispered.

  Branwenn slowly opened her eyes and, settling back to rest upon her calves, she dropped her clenched hands to her lap and turned her gaze upon this almost-stranger who just might give her the heart’s-ease she so desperately craved. “I know not how to begin....”

  Reys placed his hand over hers. “Begin by telling me the thing that is giving you the most dread.”

  Branwenn dropped her gaze to her lap and nodded. She took in a deep breath and released it on a sigh. “Aye, ‘twould seem to be the best place, I trow.” She cleared her throat. “Last eve...”

  When she didn’t immediately continue, Reys dipped his head in an effort to see her countenance. “Aye, last eve—what happened?” he prompted.

  “I came upon my betrothed in his sister’s bedchamber,”—she lifted her gaze to her brother’s once more and said in a rush—“he had beaten her, Reys! There were purple and red marks on her chest, her shoulders—even her arms! And her gown was torn, it looked as if he’d ripped it away to expose her breasts. And what is more, I could see other, older bruises on her flesh as well. Godamercy, Reys, I do believe he intended to...to...bed her!” There, she’d said it.