by B. J. Scott
“If after we wed, your da still opposes our marriage, I will take you away, to the ends of Scotland if need be.” He thumped his fist over his heart. “But I promise you, we will be together for the rest of our days as husband and wife.”
“But you are an only son and will someday to be laird someday. Could you leave your mother and father behind and forsake your clan to marry me?” She lowered her gaze.
“My mother is looking forward to watching our bairns grow.” He slid a hand over her belly. “But she and my father will understand if I choose to leave. There are no guarantees in life Since I have no brothers, my cousin Ciaran has been named tanist and has been groomed to take my place as laird if I canna do it for any reason.” He brushed his thumb across her lips. “Marry me, Catriona.”
No one had ever loved her enough to forfeit everything they held dear. And Ayden was prepared to give up his home, his family, his birthright, and even his life to marry her. She might never know this type of love again. How could she say no to his proposal?
“What say you, Catriona? Will you be my wife?” he asked in a husky voice, his dark eyes searching hers. When she didn’t respond immediately, he crushed her against his chest, dipped his head, and slanted his mouth over hers. When she gasped, his tongue darted between her lips, tasting and teasing until her vision blurred, and her head began to swim and she thought she might faint.
She didn’t want the moment to end, but they were far from safe and needed to stop this madness to flee before someone discovered them together. But she couldn’t bring herself to push him away. Instead she fisted his leine and tugged him closer, matching each sweep of his tongue with one of her own. Lost in a euphoric fog, and with every fiber of her being alive and on fire, she swooned into him, wishing they could be alone together, naked, flesh to flesh, making love without a care in the world.
Ayden raised his head and stared into her eyes. “Say, you will marry me. Tonight.”
“Yes,” she said on a strangled breath. “I will marry you, Ayden. But we must be away.” She encircled his waist, urging him to lean on her as she steered him toward the stable, glad she had spent three years on the show-jumping circuit when she was a teen. “We’ll borrow two of my father’s swiftest mounts. Are you strong enough to ride?”
He nodded. “Aye. I was winded following the beating, but you have breathed new life into me, and knowing we are to wed makes me feel invincible.” He cupped her chin, and after kissing her soundly, they entered the stable together.
Chapter Seventeen
Katherine sat on a rock, staring into the fire Ayden had lit before riding off to fetch the monk. She closed her eyes, wishing he’d hurry back before she changed her mind about the wedding, and wondered if she was about to make a huge mistake. Common sense told her she was insane for even thinking about marriage to a man she’d just met, yet her heart dictated otherwise.
Perhaps you should be thankful for this bit of solace, she thought, then opened her eyes, and once again focused her gaze on the flickering flames. She was a logical thinker for the most part, not a jump in blindly with both feet sort gal, and discovering this new side of her personality frightened her a little. This was the first time she’d truly been alone since she’d awakened to find herself in 1304, and the first time she had to think since accepting his proposal. She wanted to be certain she was doing the right thing for herself, and not just reacting or feeling how she thought Catriona would respond.
It was hard not to be influenced by what she’d read in the journal and history books, to set aside the dangers and heartache she knew lay ahead for the star-crossed lover. Just as it was difficult to keep herself, Katherine MacDonald, separate from Catriona Grant. She’d only been in her ancestor’s shoes for a short time, but imagined it would get more difficult not to lose a small piece of Katherine with each moment she spent living Catriona’s life. She worried that eventually they would merge as one, and the possibility she might even forget her past, her parents, and Grand made her sad.
She glanced around the cave and sighed. The cold, eerie, dark, damp cavern was not the setting most women fantasized about when they planned their wedding day. However, she had to admit the idea of being whisked away in the dead of night by a dashing knight, secretly exchanging vows, then spending a night of unbridled passion with a man she loved, did have a fairy tale flair to it.
Love? She swallowed a huge gulp of air. Could she truly be in honest-to-goodness love with Ayden after such a short time? Mutually shared lust and the need to achieve carnal pleasure maybe, but until now, she’d always scoffed at the idea of love-at-first-sight. She thought those women who claimed to fall head-over-heels for a guy after only a couple of dates were delusional, and the instant love she’d read about in romance novels was the fabrication of someone’s creative mind and not reality.
She was pretty sure she fell in love with Ayden the first time she dreamed about him. Perhaps that is why falling for him when she arrived in 1304 seemed so natural. His mere presence made her giddy with excitement, and his touch unleashed emotions, and a cacophony of sensations coursing through her body that she never dreamed existed. He was, handsome and confident without being cocky, things Ethan knew nothing about. She loved that Ayden wasn’t afraid to stand up for what he believed, no matter the odds, and would not ask his clansmen to do anything he wouldn’t do himself. He’d had a strong sense of loyalty to friends, family, and his country, going to battle whenever called upon. But who was she kidding? No one was perfect.
She certainly had her fair share of flaws, many of which he had never seen, and she couldn’t help wonder if the real Katherine MacDonald showed her no-nonsense, independent self, if he might wish he’d taken more time to think before they wed. Ethan’s face flashed before her mind, as did their last moments together. She wrapped her arms around her middle, shuddered, then mumbled a quick prayer, grateful she’d learned the truth about him before she’d married him.
Being around Ayden was so easy, like taking a breath of fresh air. Unlike Ethan, he was sweet, gentle, and considerate — a true gentleman in every way. She knew it was true not only because of what she’d read, but what she saw and how others in her new circle of friends regarded him. He respected her enough to ask her personally to marry him before asking her father’s permission. He treated her like an equal and not his property, but would defend her with his life in need be. The only thing more exhilarating than being with him was the anticipation of seeing him again.
Despite putting on convincing facades, deplorable men like Ethan and MacConnery could never hold a candle to a genuinely good man like Ayden. She tugged her arisaidh of plaid around her shoulders, a chill running up her spine at the thought of how close she’d come to marrying both of these men. What Catriona had written in her diary about the prospects of marrying MacConnery was spot on. Marriage to a man you didn’t love would be a fate worse than death.
“Catriona.” Ayden stood at the entrance to the cave with a torch in his hand.
“Aye.” She sprang to her feet and ran to him, throwing her arm around his neck and kissed his cheek. Her heart bursting with joy. “I was so afraid you might not come back for me. Or that my father would find out I left the croft and come looking for me before we are wed. The hour you were gone seemed like days.”
He brushed his knuckles along his cheek. “Nothing could stop me from returning, ma gaol. And we will be wed this night.” He handed her a small bouquet of heather and two thistles. “I stopped and picked these for you in the meadow by the stream. Every bride should have flowers for her wedding.”
His thoughtfulness only served to confirm her decision to marry him. Lifting the blossoms to her nose, she inhaled deeply. “I love the sweet smell of heather. But why the thistles?”
“The heather represents the delicate beauty of our love. Like each day we are together, each tiny bloom bringing joy and pleasure, not only to the eyes, but also to the heart, and all the other senses.”
“And
the thistles?”
He took them from her hand. “These are the flowers of Scotland. A humble plant that is able to grow and prosper where others would fail to thrive. The thistle can endure all sorts of weather, both good and bad, can provide sustenance as well as heal, and the sturdy tough exterior and thorns protect the beauty that lies beneath.”
Tears welled in Katherine’s eyes, the sentiment of his gift touching her deeply. “That is so beautiful,” she said on a strangled breath. “I never really thought about thistles in that way.”
“And like the thistle’s tough exterior and thorns protects the delicate flower it surrounds, I promise to do the same for you, Catriona, and our bairns. I will protect my bride, my love, and our babes with my very life if necessary. And like the thistle, our marriage will survive all hardships and thrive.” He dipped his head and captured her lips with a kiss that made her swoon, and stormed her senses. Her legs weak, she leaned against his broad chest and clung to his tunic for support.
“I dinna mean to interrupt or to rush you Ayden, but it might be wise for me to marry the two of you before you start the joining.” The voice echoed from the entrance to the cave.
Ayden laughed and lifted the torch in the air, lighting the opening and motioned with a flick of his hand. “You’re right, Brother Thomas. The sooner we are wed, the sooner I can make Catriona my wife.”
Brother Thomas, a stout man of about thirty years and dressed in the robes of a Benedictine Monk strode into the cave. “The hour grows late and best we get started.” He looked from Ayden to Catriona and smiled. “Will you handfast this night, as is common? That way you will be bound for a year and a day, after which time, should either of you change your mind, the union can be dissolved.”
Ayden took Katherine’s hands between his own and brought her fingers to his lips. “We will marry outright, Brother Thomas. Our love is deep and our union will be strong. Neither of us will want another nor will we change our minds.”
“Do you agree, Lady Catriona?” Brother Thomas asked.
She gazed into Ayden’s eyes, his desire and passion a mirror of her own. “Aye, Brother Thomas. We will never change our minds.”
A broad grin crossed the monk’s face. “Then let us begin. The sooner your lives and souls are joined, the better.” Brother Thomas took a bible from his pouch, opened it, and began to read in Latin. After several passages and prayers, he turned to Ayden. “Have you a ring to give your bride?”
“Aye.” He produced a finely carved silver band, the surface etched with Celtic symbols representing eternal love and good fortune.
Katherine stared at the silver band. “It’s so beautiful. I had no idea you’d be so prepared as to bring a ring.”
“It is na just a ring, sweeting.” Ayden handed it to Katherine. “I had it made a while ago, knowing I planned to make you my bride someday. Inside is an inscription that speaks from my heart.” He placed the ring on her palm and lifted the torch so she could read the words.
“Forever and Beyond.” Her heart clenched, when she recognized the wedding band she’d found in Catriona’s diary.
Ayden took back the ring and smiled. “It is how I feel, what I believe. Our love is strong, and nothing can break the bond. And even after we are old and buried, I will still love you. I will love you forever and beyond.”
Brother Thomas cleared his throat. “May we continue?” He held the bible out to Ayden so he could place the ring on the pages. After reciting a prayer to bless the wedding band, he offered it back. “It is time for the promises of marriage and the giving of the ring. Ayden, you will go first.”
Ayden turned to face Katherine and took her hand in his. “Catriona Grant, you are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone. I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, until our life shall be done.”
Katherine in turn recited the same words as a pledge of her love to Ayden. Her heart swelled with emotion. She’d attended many of her friend’s weddings, but had never truly listened to the words, until now.
“Ayden MacAndrews, do you take Catriona Grant, to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death bids you part? And according to God's holy ordinance, do you plight her your troth?”
“Aye. I will,” Ayden whispered, his gaze locked with Katherine’s as he slid the ring onto her finger.”
“Catriona Grant, do you take Ayden MacAndrews, to be your wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to be bonny and buxom at bed and at board, to love and to cherish him, till death bids you part? And according to God’s holy ordinance, do you plight him your troth?”
“I will,” she said. Surprised at how easily the words came. Sure she was doing the right thing by marrying him. She just wished her parents could have been here to see her wed.
“Then as so much as the two of you have pledged your troth before God, I declare you husband and wife.” Brother Thomas tapped Ayden on the shoulder. “You may now kiss your bride.”
“With pleasure.” Ayden swept her into his arms. “I love you, Lady Catriona MacAndrews,” he murmured, then captured her lips.
“I offer you both my congratulations and wish you a long and happy life together, but I must be away,” Brother Thomas said.
“Thank you, my friend.” Ayden clasped the monk’s wrist and gave it a hardy shake. “For the monastery,” he said, before handing Brother Thomas a bag of coins.
“The silver will be put to good use,” the monk said, smiling. “God bless you both.” He bowed, then made the sign of the cross before he left the cave.
While Ayden saw his friend off, Katherine stared into the fire. In her excitement to marry Ayden and blinded by her passion for the man, there were still things she’d overlooked. And while the fact she could be spirited away at any moment and thrown back into her own time period was an ever present thought and possibility, she’d not considered the actual joining itself.
Ayden would be expecting a virgin, an untried maiden who was pure of body. That she wasn’t, at least not in her own time period. In addition to Ethan, she’d had several intimate partners in her twenty-four years. Not that she was promiscuous or loose. As far as statistics went for female university graduates of her age bracket, she was on the low end of the scale when it came to lovers and she’d always taken precautions. But she was certain Ayden would not be interested or care about twenty-first century statistics or values.
She twisted the wedding band around her finger as she pictured him taking his time and being gentle, when she’d be aching to feel him inside her. Thoughts of how he might even try to explain what was about to happen to ease her fear of joining for the first time crossed her mind. Those things she could handle. But when the time came to bury himself between her thighs, would he wonder about the lack of a barrier or be so busy sating his needs that he wouldn’t notice or care? Sadly, she suspected he’d notice.
“What has you brooding so, leannan?” Ayden came up from behind and slid his arm around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “This should be a happy time. I hope you are na having second thoughts about marrying me.”
“Of course not.” She turned in his arms and kissed his cheek. “If you must know, I was thinking about when we consummate our marriage.”
He held her tight and playfully pressed gentle kisses to her nose and lips. “Fear na. I promise to go slow and to be gentle.”
She smiled sweetly and cringed inwardly when he said exactly what she was afraid of hearing. “I have heard the women talking about how wonderful the act of joining can be when entered into with gusto and fierce passion, especially for the man. I am na so delicate or naive that I might break. And I do want to please you. So if you do get carried away and are na as slow and gentle as you promise, I will understand.”
“You are an am
azing woman, Catriona.” He nipped at her lower lip. “As much as I want you, I am a patient man and want your first time to be special for you as well.”
“I’m sure it will be. But contrary to what you might have heard, no two woman are exactly alike. Each is unique in the way God made them. Some find their first time painful and I’ve heard for others it is like there is no barrier at all.”
He chuckled. “I say we stop talking about joining and actually find out for ourselves.” He swiftly lifted her in his arms, carried her to a pelt strewn on the floor by the fire and lay her upon it, then stripped off his clothing and tossed them on a pile on the floor.
Katherine couldn’t stop staring at him. He was magnificent in every way. Every muscle was honed to perfection and glistening as the light from the fire illuminated his sun-bronzed skin. His hair hung loose around his shoulders and framed his finely chiseled features while sky blue eyes caught her gaze.
“Would you like some wine?” He produced a clay jug and two pewter goblets.
She swallowed hard and shook her head. “I … I’m not thirsty.” And while her mouth was as dry as sand when she tried to speak, it was because he was standing there naked.
He knelt beside her and stroked her cheek. “It appears one of us is wearing too many clothes.” He then slid his hand beneath the hem of her skirt, lightly skimming his fingers along her inner thigh until he brushed the nest of curls guarding her sex.
She moaned and arched her back. Showing restraint and waiting until the time was right was going to be harder than she’d thought. He’d managed to ignite her entire body with one sweep of his hand, and after one touch, she’d come completely undone.
Agreeing she was wearing far too many clothes and needing a moment to regain her composure, Katherine rose, then let her skirt fall to the floor in a puddle of fabric at her feet. After tossing it and her tunic aside, she knelt before him in her leine — their bodies only inches apart — and lifted her hands over her head. “Would you like to help?” she asked on a strangled breath.