Emma gasped as Declan pressed against her and the evidence of his arousal poked against the small of her back. Attempting to squirm away and failing miserably, she finally stilled. “Considering you have had more women than I have ever met in your bed, this is hardly flattering.” Intending an insult, Emma loathed that jealousy and hurt implied in her too soft tone.
“Dinna take to heart words spoken in fever and anger. While I have been with many, you are the only one who has ever been in my bed. That has great meaning.” Emma shivered as he kissed below her ear. “I would have you in my bed, wife.”
She uttered “no,” and Declan laughed. “Our false marriage must be real. Here I stand begging you to bed me, the cruel fate of too many husbands.”
Despite the situation, Emma laughed briefly and remembered too well everything else he had said. “We both know I am not what you want in bed so don’t try to make me believe I am anything more than convenient.”
His head leaned against hers, and she felt his sigh brush against her hair. “Those were but words spoken in a jealous rage. If you recall, there was only desire in my eyes when your bare skin filled my sights and the silk of your skin met my hands.”
Silently cursing the involuntary shiver than coursed through her, Emma attempted to deny it all. “That was too much whiskey.”
Tightening his hold, Declan’s breath tickled her ear. “I am happy to prove you wrong should you agree to wed me. For a lifetime of nights, I will prove my desire for you.”
Her body was far too relaxed in Declan’s hold. Plus, the quick “no” was taking far too long. As one of his hands meandered from her hip to her waist, Emma cursed the way her breathing sped up. The fact that his had also increased bothered her. Seeking a quick exit, Emma said, “Fine, you want me in bed. That’s just not enough for me.”
She could hear the smugness in his voice that whispered against her head. “I am a wealthy laird. Anything you wish will be made yours.”
Insulted beyond belief, Emma threw her elbow into his side and broke free from the hold. Pushing him away, she turned to glare at him. “I could care less about your money. You just proved why I shouldn’t marry you. Our values don’t even come close to matching.”
With an apologetic shrug, Declan said, “Forgive me. I have little experience with women who dinna seek reward, but you ken this.” His lips twitched while one eyebrow cocked up, a look that screamed hopeful to her. “Tell me what marriage means to you.”
Emma scowled at the man who waited patiently for an answer. “Honestly, it shouldn’t be that complicated. Marriage is supposed to be about love, family, shared goals, and dreams.” Surprised to see Declan’s gaze twinkle in delight, she added, “And it’s about commitment, and I don’t think that’s one of your strengths.”
His eyes searched her face for what she assumed was any sign of deception. She took a futile step back as he closed the distance between them. “I agree with what you want. A shared vision and family we already share in wee Mary. I think we could find a path that suits us both and forms a strong bond.” Declan tilted his head to the side and ran a solitary finger down her cheek, leaving her skin crackling in its wake. “I would nay lie to you with whispered words of love, but I do carry strong affection for you, along with respect. There has never been a woman since my mother I have respected. You think I will seek other women, and you are wrong.” Declan turned her body to face the enormous bed. “If I end each day with you in my bed, I will nay want for another.” He turned her back to face him, the motion and his adamant tone leaving her dizzy. “I dinna want some lass from the village with no spirit. I happen to enjoy arguing with you and the fire that burns in your eyes. So you have no doubts, I will confess the laird also desires you above all.”
Emma smacked the arms that held her lightly. “Neither one of you is funny.”
After giving her a teasing wink, his arms tightened around her back and forced her chest against his. Her hands landed against his solid chest as she squeaked in surprise. With his soft breath tickling her lips, he said, “Marry me this day, wife.”
“No” apparently did not work with the man. Emma attempted a different avenue of retreat. “I don’t know the first thing about running a keep and taking care of a clan. You need someone who can do that. We both know I wouldn’t last five minutes alone in this time.”
“For someone so strong and able, you give voice to foolish doubt. For days, you have been handling the matters within these walls. Meggie boasts of your cunning and skill in all the tasks you have touched. Besides, you will nay be alone, you will be with me.”
Emma closed her eyes with the sincerity in his voice and hated that he had touched on her worst fear—being alone. She made no effort to pull away or protest when his lips kissed her forehead, as if he knew how exposed she felt. Damn you, Declan, for knowing that and for baiting me with it.
“Marry me this day because a small part of you wants me or you would have left long ago. Marry me, and neither one of us will ever be alone again. Be my wife in all ways.”
If she had opened her eyes, she would have seen it coming, the kiss that should have been avoided at all costs. Instead, warm lips brushed against hers and momentarily banished fears aside and replaced them with promise.
“Marry me,” Declan whispered against her lips that still waited for more soft persuasion.
Shaking away the lapse of judgment, Emma asked, “Now?” Her heart pounded in her ribs at the thought of no time to think, even as her skin whispered, “Yes, please.”
With a small laugh, Declan placed another kiss to her forehead. “While I prefer the thought, rumors must be ended once and for all. A feast is being prepared, and the whole of the village has been called to meet outside the gates to witness our marriage, as is proper. However, I think I may be the first laird in the clan’s history to have a contract before a bedding.” Again, he brushed kisses over her forehead. “After the marriage is publicly made, we will return to our chamber and make certain our vows are binding. All regrets will be erased.”
Why am I still in this room listening to him, wrapped in his arms, actually giving him a chance to talk me into this? How can he make such a life-altering decision seem so simple? She knew she was attracted to him. There was something between them, a chemical reaction that made her skin dance with his touch, but she doubted a bit of sexual attraction was enough to build a lasting relationship. She asked her next question. “What happens when the threat is gone?”
His shock at the question made her wonder if he believed the sweet talk he was dishing out. “You will be my wife. We will care for each other and the clan.” Declan lifted his hand to skim his fingers over her cheek. “A fine life we shall have raising our children.”
Cupping her cheek, he chuckled as her eyebrows shot to her forehead. “Aye, wife. I pray there will be bairns, fine strong sons and bonny wee lasses. I spoke of such a life before fever, and lies clouded my mind. I spoke to you of building a future, of giving you children, and of our being together always. My mind is clear, and I once again offer all that I am to you. If we had the time, I would prove my devotion with long walks, stolen kisses, and freshly picked flowers from the fields. Time is nay our ally.”
Much of it mirrored what he had whispered to her when Mary first became ill, and given his desperation, she had no idea how much was real and how much was an act. That she even debated such a thing gave her every reason to walk away. However, the larger question loomed. How far am I willing to go to keep the people I care about safe?
“Mary becomes yours to raise as you see fit,” Declan said. “Train her to fight or whatever you wish.” The plea was written on his face; he was out of offers, but she could also see his strategy.
“Don’t use my love for your daughter against me,” Emma replied quickly.
“Never. I only make certain you ken all
I offer.” Brushing a gentle kiss to her frowning mouth, Declan loosened his hold but didn’t let her go. “All I need to ken is if you have bled since the night in question with Merrick. Before you shout at me, too many believe his lies.” He glanced over her head at the bed. “I can provide blood for the sheet, such concerns mean little with you still listening to me. I only need to ken any child you bear would be mine.”
To say he surprised her was an understatement. It was also a sign of immense trust on his part. Her out had just been handed to her. She could lie and say she hadn’t had her period, and she would no longer be in the room. Part of her wondered if she could lie well just one time. Unfortunately, too much of her abhorred any falsehood. “While you were sick,” she answered with an expected eye roll. “And the next time we discuss the wonders of my time, remind me to tell of the glorious items to be found in aisle four of my local drugstore.”
Her wit fell on deaf ears. Declan only grinned like a fool, or more precisely like someone who had just won a massive victory and then admitted Meggie had already answered that question. “I needed to see if you would attempt to lie to me. If you had, I would have let you go, certain you held no affection for me.”
Lost in her momentary defeat and silently questioning what she felt for him, she didn’t see it coming. Declan tightened his hold and kissed her with no restraint. His lips hard against hers as his hands held her head in place with no reprieve from his onslaught. Emma grabbed onto his robe to keep her balance as he nipped at her lips and licked the wounds away. She knew she caved the second she did not prevent his tongue from penetrating her mouth. Not certain if it would be the beginning or if she would come to her senses, making it the last kiss ever, she returned all the passion he offered. Their tongues dueled and tasted until he pulled back with the soft brushes that melted her resolve. She had only enough sense left to hate the whimper of disappointment she made when he broke away. How does he make me want him like I do?
“Tell me, wife, do you wish to spend the day watching me wed another? What will you do when I take my bride to bed later in the day?” Declan asked, panting against her lips. Kissing a path across her jaw that filled her closed eyes with bright, dazzling light, to then skim down her neck, he asked, “How great would your regret be this night kenning I married another woman yet thought only of you in the marriage bed?”
Another whimper left her lips at the harsh question. She was torn between his soft exploring lips and the rough whiskers scratching against her skin, the dichotomy of sensation so like the man himself: hard yet sweet. She had glimpses of what might make a potential relationship between them if they had time to date like normal people. Then again, she doubted she would have held out so long if he had never been so cruel while ill. Even with her nerve endings dancing, she held onto the possibility that Declan only wanted her out of desperation and as a means to an end.
“Answer my question, wife,” Declan demanded against her throat. “I want only you. Do you want me to take another to my bed?”
Being stubborn had its own rewards, and Emma was never going to admit anything out loud. Her rapid breathing prevented it. She could feel against her skin that Declan’s matched hers. Bright green eyes centered before her, and his arrogant look confirmed she didn’t have to say it—he already knew.
Emma pulled back out of his hold. “You need to stop touching me. I have to think about this. I need to talk to Cortland.”
Declan nodded and straightened the robe her hands had messed. “You have until midday.”
She sighed as she realized she only had an hour. Turning her back on Declan, she opened the door. The conversation whirled in her mind and mixed with the desire a few kisses had brought to life. It was too much to comprehend. Nothing in her life could have prepared her to make that type of decision. The time and place were still so new and foreign. What can a young woman raised in the twenty-first century possibly know about saving a clan by marrying a laird, who happens to think of himself as two people?
“Wife,” Declan called to her back.
Turning, she asked, “What?” As if he hadn’t said enough already.
“Only making certain you answer,” Declan chuckled with his arms banded over his chest.
“You are still an ass, both of you,” Emma grumbled as she pulled the door closed behind her. The closed door did little to hide the laughter and coughing from behind.
She offered a wan smile for Cortland, who waited, just like he said he would. “Do I need to tell you what happened?”
“Nay, Emma. I listened at the door like an old woman,” Cortland admitted. “What I did nay hear, I can assume.” Taking her hand, he pulled her away from Declan’s door and down the corridor to stand in front of hers.
Emma reached out and hugged him. “You really are a good father.” When he smiled, she said, “I don’t know what to do. Nothing like this happens where I am from, at least I don’t think it does.”
Cortland held her as her head fell to his chest. “I can nay tell you what to do. However, kenning Declan as I do, he surprised me in many ways with his offer to you. That being said, you deserve more. I would see you settled with a man devoted only to you, nay one bound by such obligations.” He squeezed her again before letting her go.
“Declan must marry, and he will. It should be to a lass who is nay intimidated by him, someone who sees through his bluster. She should also be strong and sharp-witted. The wife would need to be able to love a child that is nay hers, a task few can manage. You, Emma, can do all of it.”
“But should I?” For the first time she could remember, she wanted someone else to make the decision, to take the weight of it all off her shoulders. It was beyond her realm of reasoning.
“Only you have your answer.” Looking at her with eyes that mirrored her own, Cortland said, “He speaks to you as he does to me, openly. Such bodes well for a new couple, but I dinna ken if ‘tis enough. In his defense, Declan is a good man and a fine laird. With the correct woman by his side, he could be great.”
Emma nodded. “What?” she asked the man who studied her.
“If it had been only Mary who had been ill and recovered, would you have allowed him to court you? I ken of his foul treatment of you when he was fevered. If none of that had happened, would we be having a different conversation?”
Her eyes darted down to her booted feet. It was a great question, and given how sweet Declan had been after their drunken escapade, she probably would have spent some more time with him. Reluctant to admit it, she said, “Maybe, but this is all happening way too fast.”
Cortland chuckled. “I understand ‘tis hard to make his foul behavior vanish and time grows short.”
“What would you tell your real daughter?” Emma asked hesitantly.
“My daughter has her answer,” Cortland said and placed a kiss to her forehead. Opening the door to her chamber, he chuckled and shook his head. “It appears you have a gift.”
On her bed was a silk gown of deep green that made her think of the forest’s leaves. That it was the same green from the clan’s plaid did not escape her notice. The fabric shimmered in the sunlight that entered from the window. Picking it up, she marveled at its softness.
Emma scowled at the gown after laying it back down on the bed. Beside it lay a wreath of yellow and white blooms that looked, to her, like it would fit perfectly on her head. The arrogant man has already assumed I will marry him. Her mind whirled with everything he had said and blended with her warring emotions. The desire to hit something came first, but then she heard Meggie and Mary in the hallway. The child’s laughter wafted into the room like a warm summer’s breeze, and Emma knew resistance was futile. Unfortunately, Declan knew exactly how far she would go to keep Mary safe and in her life.
Allowing herself the delusion, she said to Cortland, “Please tell the man to shave, Da.”
Chapter 14
Standing on the lower portion of the hill that led to village, Declan stood straight and tall as his gaze surveyed the whole of the villagers gathered before him. All had been released from duty to witness his marriage. The scents of roasting meat mixed with the clean sea air, and he inhaled the fine combination. Preparation for the feast had begun two days prior, per his orders. As usual, Meggie had carried them out perfectly, even with limited hands in the kitchens.
That the day was immensely different from his first marriage in so many ways pleased him immensely. He had chosen his bride, and Emma was a fine choice indeed. The marriage took place on his lands in the customs of his people, not in the small dank church on Campbell lands. He needed no priest mumbling in Latin to make all valid, only the contract in his hands and the bedding soon to follow. Finally, she will be mine.
Light coughs filled the air, and Declan knew his clan was grieving the loss of too many. Yet, it could have been far worse. Only twelve dead was nothing short of a miracle given the severity of the illness that had swept his lands.
The wee hand in his tugged lightly for his attention. “Da, here she comes.”
Declan turned his head to see Emma and Cortland make their way down the path from his gates. Sunlight glinted off the green silk and her raven hair, making it seem as if she were a part of the sun’s glory. His chest puffed out upon noticing the floral wreath in her hair. She wears my gift. While he’d not had the time to court her with the proper tokens, he had managed to make certain she had a taste of his intent. Does she ken I ordered the gown made as my head pounded after our night of drinking and passion left unfulfilled?
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