His words gave her strength and that he shared her burden eased her worry. She was not alone in this. Her husband was here to help her. “I am grateful to have you as my husband.”
“As I am to have you as my wife. We will do well together, Emma, I promise.” He pressed his hand atop of hers and brought it to his mouth to kiss her palm.
It sent a shiver through her and set off a rash of tingles that she quite enjoyed. But that was for later, after she rested.
They returned to enjoying the food and drink and conversation turned less worrisome.
“Over the next week or so, I will show you all that I have implemented here so that the clan and land prospers. It will give you a good indication of what I wish to do once we return to your home,” Emma said.
Rogan did not want to disturb their talk by telling her they would be leaving in two days, but he also did not want her to think that he purposely kept the decision from her. So he had no choice but to say, “We are going to be leaving sooner than planned.”
“When and why?” she asked, placing the tankard of wine she was about to drink down on the table.
“There is not much to be done here and the sooner we leave, the sooner you will grow more accustomed to your new home.”
Emma sat up straight, not caring for his explanation. “When?”
“Two days, and your father agrees it would be the wisest thing to do.”
He was letting her know that it would do her no good to run to her father for help. They had decided this together, thinking they knew what was best for her, and leaving her no recourse, or so they thought.
Rogan had expected her to object immediately and when she did not, he wondered what thoughts spun in her head. He was not fool enough to believe that she would accept this decision without protest and that she said nothing made him wonder what she was plotting.
“We will leave early in the morning and ride at a brisk pace. I want to reach home before dusk,” he said curious if she would argue.
“As you wish,” she said and raised her tankard of wine to take a drink.
“You are not upset that we leave sooner than planned?”
“Would it matter if I was?”
“I do not do this to upset. I do what is best for you.”
“And you know this is best for me… how?”
Rogan stretched his arms out from his sides and grinned. “As you say, I am brilliant.”
A smile surfaced before Emma could stop it. “I shall choose my words more carefully next time.”
Rogan leaned closer to her. “I do not do this to hurt you, Emma. Nothing more can be accomplished by remaining here. And while we wait to hear from the King, we can determine what other options may be possible.”
“What if Patience returns?”
“We would return here immediately.”
His explanation made sense, though she still felt reluctant to leave. How did she bid farewell to the only home she had ever known? How did she leave her ill father in someone else’s care? How did she get through a day without seeing her sisters? It was difficult enough already without them. How would it be when they returned and she was no longer home to enjoy their companionship, their support, their love?
Her heavy thoughts and long day took its toll and she never felt more battered and bruised from both than she did at that moment. She did not want to think anymore or feel the burden of her sisters’ absence. She wanted to forget, if only for a while.
She reached out to her husband. “Make love to me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rogan took her hand. “You are exhausted and need rest.”
“I need peace, if only for a while, and I have that when we make love.”
How did he deny her an escape from her burdens? And how did he deny himself, since he wanted so desperately to make love to her? “You will do nothing but lie there,” he commanded.
“I will try,” she said with a soft smile.
He stood and scooped her up off the chair and into his arms. “You are beyond stubborn, wife.”
“Aye, I am,” Emma said, nibbling at his neck as he carried her to the bed. “Stubbornly in love with you.”
He set her on her feet and when her hands went to remove her nightdress, he grabbed them. “You will do nothing,” he reminded.
She let her hands drop to her sides after he released them and waited as he quickly disrobed. She loved looking at him naked, though she loved touching him even more. He had warned her, but she could not help herself. He was so hard, yet she knew he would feel like velvet to the touch and she reached out.
He grabbed her wrist.
She opened her mouth to protest and his lips claimed hers before a word could escape. He kissed her senseless like he always did and, oh how, she welcomed it. Passion hot and strong chased away her aches and pains and troubled thoughts. There was only this moment with her husband, nothing else mattered.
She felt him tug her nightdress up along her legs and over her hips. Soon she would be as naked as he was, and she would feel the heat and strength of his body against hers. The thought sent a sensual shiver through her.
He stopped and his lips left hers to ask, “Are you cold?”
She shook her head. “Needy for you.”
He brought her nightdress up and over her head in one swift motion, tossing it aside. Then he lifted her and laid her gently on the bed, coming down beside her. “I am going to touch and taste every part of you, beginning here.”
His fingers teased her one nipple and she was soon lost in a cloud of pure passion. He licked, nibbled and kissed his way down her body, and she sighed and moaned, quite loud, with pleasure.
Her excited cries turned him harder and the way her body so eagerly responded to his touch made it difficult not to slip over and into her just yet. He wanted to bring her endless pleasure and in so doing he would bring himself the same.
“Enough,” Emma finally begged. “I must have you inside me now.”
And he damn well wanted to be there himself. He moved over her and slipped inside her with ease, she was so wet. He set a fast pace, knowing it would not take long. They both were too close to the edge, ready to topple off.
Emma came first, screaming his name, and he followed soon after, though he kept driving into her, knowing she would climax again, and she did. Her moan of sheer satisfaction sent a ripple through him, driving hard the last of his climax.
He moved off her, grabbing the soft wool blanket up from the end of the bed to pull over them. Then he collapsed next to her and she quickly wrapped herself around him. His arm circled her, nestling her closer and only after she fell asleep, which took only a few minutes, did he allow himself to drift off.
*
Rogan woke with a start and knew why without looking. His wife was absent from their bed and their bedchamber. He did not know how she could wake and slip away without him hearing or sensing her. He would much prefer to wake up and find her in his arms, and he was going to let her know that as soon as he found her.
Warriors were entering the Great Hall, the morning meal just being served when Rogan stepped into the room. He gave a quick glance around, assuming he would find his wife there, but after a thorough search, she was not to be found. He grabbed a hunk of bread off a nearby table and stopped a servant to inquire if she had seen Emma.
“No, my lord, but she usually rises before most and is well gone before the morning meal is served.”
He shook his head and spotting Maura approached her. “Has Emma been to visit her father this morning?”
“Emma never visits with him in the morning, my lord. She rises much earlier than her father and does not wish to disturb him.”
“Would you know where she might be?”
Maura smiled. “Emma is not an easy one to keep track of, my lord. Patience got to the point where she assigned a warrior to follow her, since she would disappear for hours, sometimes half the day, and worry her sisters senseless. Somehow Emma would lose
the warrior and he would return to face Patience’s wrath. Finally, Patience gave up, and let Emma have her way. Emma can be fearless.”
“Fearless or foolish?” Rogan said with a shake of his head.
“Does it not take foolishness to be fearless?” Maura said with a smile, though did not wait for a response. “You might try the monk’s cottage in the woods. She goes there sometimes in the morning.”
“Thank you, Maura,” he said and after retrieving his cloak from his bedchamber left the keep and inquired directions to the monk’s cottage. Though he had been there, he could not recall the way. Besides, he was too annoyed that she would take the chance and return there by herself after the ghost warriors had shown up there.
He could not wait to leave here and get her home. At least, there he had the advantage of knowing the area. Besides she would have enough to keep her busy with tending to the many changes needed to his keep, which he had only realized ran far too inefficiently compared to how efficiently the Macinnes keep ran.
The quiet of the woods settled around him as he made his way to the cottage. New leaves rustled overhead and soon the trees would be bursting with them. The sky was overcast and the scent of rain was in the air. He shook his head, thinking of Emma walking this path alone. The woods held beauty, but it also held danger. He hurried his pace, anxious to see that his wife was safe.
Rogan was relieved when he finally came upon the forlorn cottage. Emma was nowhere to be seen outside, so he marched straight to the door, his heart beating a bit faster with concern. He did not knock. He opened the door and entered with a quick step.
He was shocked, though also pleased to see her standing there, a dirk drawn, prepared to defend herself.
She shook her head and scolded him as she went to return the dirk to the sheath at her waist. “I could have hurt you.”
He laughed. “I think not.”
Rogan felt the wisp of air against his ear as the dirk flew past and landed in the frame of the door behind him. He glared at his wife. “Patience taught you?” He closed the door and retrieved the dirk, handing it to her.
Emma nodded, taking the weapon from him and slipping it back in the sheath. “She did, insisted on it, since I spent so much time alone.”
“That is changed now,” Rogan said and stepped forward. The space was so small that it took only one step to reach the opposite side of the table from Emma.
Her brow scrunched, as if she did not quite understand him.
“You will not be spending so much time alone.”
“But I will not surrender it entirely,” she said, as if declaring an edict.
“You do not want to spend time with me?” he asked and stepped slowly around the table to her side.
She was quick to smile and to settle her hand on his chest. “I love being with you.”
He rested his hand over hers. “Then why do you leave our bed so early.”
“I love the morning when sunrise peaks on the horizon and the mist is just beginning to lift off the land. It is so quiet, so peaceful, and so beautiful. I cannot resist being part of it.”
“And I cannot resist the desire to find my wife naked in my arms in the morning, so I can show her how much I love her.” He kissed her, a soft, lingering kiss that had her slipping her arms around his neck and had his arms coiling around her waist.
Emma sighed and rested her brow against his when it finally ended. “Then my desire to make love with you in the morning is proper?”
He kissed her quick. “Passion does not always wait for a proper time or place. When you have a need for me, tell me.”
“And you will do the same?”
“Aye, wife, I will.”
“And what if I need you often?” she asked quite guilelessly.
“Have me as often as you like.”
“You will not grow tired of me?”
“Never,” he whispered and kissed her again.
“I want you now,” she said and reached down, her hand disappearing beneath his plaid. She loved holding him and stroking him and having him grow hard in her hand.
“Keep that up and it will be a fast joining,” he warned and felt himself swell with each stroke and tug.
“Oh, yes, please,” she said on a heavy sigh, “I am so wet and wanting.”
Damn, if she did not torment with words as well as her hand.
Her touch turned more ardent and he would not last if…
He shoved her hand off him and lifted her, intending to order her to wrap her legs around his waist, but it was not necessary. She did so on her own as he carried her around the table to brace her back against the door. He held her firm with one arm, while he hoisted her skirt, pushed his plaid aside, and found his way between her legs to plunge into her.
Emma cried out, which fired his blood even more, and he held her waist tight as he drove in and out of her fast and hard.
Emma kept her legs secured around her husband’s waist and her arms around his neck, never believing that being slammed hard against a door could feel so good. She tried to hold back her climax, wanting the titillating sensations consuming her body to last a while longer, but it was impossible. She burst in such a fiery explosion, screaming her pleasure aloud, over and over.
Her passion-filled cries sent Rogan crashing into his own climax and surging when Emma gave a sharp shout, another climax having hit her. He came so damn hard that he had to brace his one hand against the door for support while he kept his one arm firm around her.
Her head dropped on his shoulder as she fought to control her ragged breathing. She was glad Rogan was not in a hurry to slip out of her, since she was continuing to enjoy the last ripples of her climax as they faded from her body.
It was several moments before they separated and Rogan eased her to her feet, their respective garments falling in place as he did.
Rogan curled a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “Was I too rough? I did not hurt you, did I?”
Emma smiled from ear to ear. “It was perfect and I feel wonderful. I believe I have found a cure for anything that ails me.”
“I will tend you anytime you feel the need,” he said with a grin.
“Then it is good you have such stamina, for I am very needy.”
“I never thought I would be happy to have a needy wife,” he said with a laugh.
She grabbed his hand. “Come—”
“I already have.” He laughed again and Emma playfully punched him in the arm.
“I came here to collect some things that I would like to take home with me.”
“I will help,” he said glad that she was thinking of what she wanted to take home with her and even more pleased that she had referred to his home as home. He knew it was not easy for her and that she was making the effort to accept it, made him love her all the more.
It did not take them long to collect what Emma wanted. She explained to Rogan that after the monk had died she had moved most of the things she wanted to retain to the keep. What they gathered now, she felt she could make good use of at home.
The more she mentioned home, the more eager he was to be on his way there.
Once they finished, they stepped outside to see that the sky was awash with dark clouds and rain was imminent.
“We best hurry,” Rogan said, turning to his wife to see that she was frozen in place, staring at the cottage. His heart went out to her when he saw the sadness on her face.
“Duncan taught me so much. I would race here every morning and he would be waiting to teach me. I had so wished that I had more time with him. His knowledge was so vast, though he told me that he gave me a good foundation and I was to build on it. I miss him so much.”
“I am sure such a learned monk is grateful for having had the time he had with you, someone who truly wished to receive his knowledge and carry it on.”
Emma sighed. “He told me that the heavens brought him here to me and that he was grateful to have known me.”
“We will visit wi
th your father and your sisters, and you will come here again,” he assured her.
Emma shook her head. “No, there is nothing here for me any longer.” She closed the door and turned, taking Rogan’s hand. “My life is with you now, and Duncan would be the first to tell me that.”
“I would have liked this Duncan,” Rogan said. “Tell me about him.”
And Emma did as they walked back to the keep.
They no sooner entered the village than someone approached Emma about an ailing elder.
“Go,” Rogan said when she looked to him. “I will take these things to the keep and see you when you finish.”
Emma smiled and kissed his cheek before running off.
There was not much Emma could do for one as aged as Agnes. A soothing brew and conversation was the most help she could offer.
“I will miss you, Emma,” Agnes said, her gnarled fingers gripping the goblet as best she could. “You are such a kind and loving soul.” Agnes lowered her voice as if not wanting anyone else but Emma to hear, though there was no one in the cottage but the two of them. “And you are the most beautiful of your sisters.”
Emma was stunned.
Agnes nodded slowly. “It is true. Your beauty is rare and not visible to everyone, but those lucky enough to see it are granted the privilege of seeing beauty at its finest.”
A knock at the door interrupted Emma’s shocked silence.
Marianna entered. “I am sorry to disturb, but when you finish, my lady, my son wishes to see you.”
“Is he all right?” Emma asked with concern.
“In pain, but as I told him, he is alive, so he has no reason to complain.”
“Wise words,” Agnes said and turned to Emma. “Go, you are needed. And know I wish you a long life, many children and enduring love.”
Emma was hesitant to leave her, knowing in her heart she would never see Agnes again.
“Marianna, will you join me for one of Emma’s healing brews?” Agnes asked.
Marianna nodded with a smile. “These old, complaining bones could use some healing.” She turned to Emma. “Go, with our blessings, your time here is done.”
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