Emma whimpered against his mouth, even as her tongue dueled with his, and no passion had ever tasted so sweet. Her hands clung to his shoulders, and wet breasts pressed to his chest. In the heat of the moment, he couldn’t touch enough of her. His hands left her face to wander her shoulders, skim the length of her spine, and finally use her backside to pull her against him.
The soft mewling noises he adored filled the quiet air when he lifted her by her bottom. With no words spoken, her long legs wrapped around his waist. Groaning into her hungry mouth, Declan rubbed against her core and attempted to draw out the pleasure, to have her crazed with need before he entered her. Despite what he had said previously, the claim made by each of them would verbally and physically join them in the ancient ways of his people.
As he cupped her breast, Emma broke free from the kiss to gasp. Her heated gaze landed on his, and for four heartbeats, he saw the passion he craved in her, the brilliant wonder in her pale blue depths. Before his length could enter her, tears fell from her eyes, and Emma pushed away.
“You said that all of this meant nothing to you,” she choked out. “Why in the world would I believe that you want me beyond maybe a quick fuck?” Shaking hands covered her face. “Damn you, Declan. I heard every word you said.”
With those words, his world crashed. Reaching out, he pulled her sobbing body against his and let her tears wash over his neck in warm hurt. Stroking her back and wet hair, he kissed her head and waited for her to quiet.
“We have love and passion. What I said was brutal and cruel, and none of it true. The truth is that when we touch, my world is complete.” That she stayed in his arms to hear him kept hope alive in his heart. That her arms stayed at her side made him question how big a fool he truly was regarding what could be between them again.
“I still hear it,” she whispered against his throat.
“I want only you,” he told her, full of conviction. “My wrongs are beyond telling, and I would erase them from your mind if I could. You are mine, and I am yours,” he whispered, hoping that she remembered his vow to her on the afternoon they consummated their marriage. A vow he had repeated in her ear many times during the nights that had followed.
Her body tensed against his, and he let her leave his grasp. Hurt rang in her voice. “You seemed to forget that when it mattered most.” Before he could reply, she slipped under the water, only to surface where the water became shallow.
“Wife.” She gave no answer as she fled the loch and grabbed her drying cloths. Before he could reach the bank, her lithe frame hid from his sight behind the cloth.
“You ken what happened and why,” he reminded her while he stepped from the water into the cool breeze. Gooseflesh covered his skin, though not from cold, more from the fear she would never forgive him.
“And it still hasn’t gone away,” she whispered. “It’s all still there.” Her eyes gave away her pain. He was thankful she stayed still when he stepped to stand in front of her.
Taking another drying cloth from the ground, he shook the dust away and covered her hair, proceeding to dry the lengths with great care. “And we are also still here. The wrongs are in our past, I swear to you. To have a morrow, I need you to let me love you.”
When her eyes narrowed, he uttered a soft chuckle and shook his head. “While my flesh craves yours with a hunger beyond compare, I speak of your heart. You need to let me in, wife.”
“It’s too hard,” she whispered.
“I ken it,” he agreed. “I ask for much from you, but such is nay new between us. My requests to you have always been full of demand.”
Her head shook, but he caught a hint of a grin on her lips. “For now, dry yourself,” he suggested. “While the sun is warm, the breeze carries coolness.”
When she moved to take the cloth, he pushed her hands aside. With only tenderness, he carefully dried her skin. Dabbing softly at her ribs, he cringed at the discoloration that marred her flesh. “I should never have touched you. You still need to heal.” Lifting the long strips of fabric from the rock, he wrapped her ribs with the utmost care.
Emma said nothing but stayed still for his ministrations, something for which he had profound gratitude. Kneeling to wipe the damp from her legs, he finished with a chaste kiss to where their child grew in safety.
“Is this all because of the baby?” she asked softly.
Rising to stand before her with her gown and shift in hands, he covered her bare body and kissed her forehead. “How quickly you have forgotten that I begged for my wife to answer me as soon as the poison cleared my blood. That we have a bairn on the way is simply more of a blessing than I deserve.”
Emma nodded. He wasn’t certain if she believed him. Her features were hidden by her hair when she sat and bent to wrap her swollen ankle and put on her boots.
Like a simple-minded fool, he took her calm as a measure that the worst had past. The question she asked next drove home all the doubt that remained between them.
“I need to ask you something, and I need you to swear you will only tell me the truth, whether or not you want to tell me.” From the shaky quality of her voice, he knew the question would hold great meaning to her.
Facing her, he said, “Ask what you would. I would only give the truth.”
That her eyes closed first, made his heart race in anticipation. Then her gaze fixed on his in a surprisingly harsh penetration. “After I left, were you with her?”
While the question had a vagueness about it, the implication rang loud and clear, had he been with Ciara. “No,” he replied instantly. “The only woman I wanted then and now is my wife.”
Emma studied him thoroughly and then nodded rather than spoke. If he had questioned why she pushed him away in the water, he had the answer. I am a fool for not reassuring her over deeds not committed.
“We should head back,” she said softly.
Handing her the bar of fragrant soap covered by the drying cloth, he held out his hand to lift her from her seat on the rock. Emma hesitated but finally held out her hand and let him lace their fingers together.
Placing a kiss to her knuckles, he said, “We have time, wife. No rushing. When you decide to once again accept me in all ways, it will be because you wish it.”
~ ~ ~
With her hand laced with his, Emma had never before had such a long walk back to the cottage. They walked in a silence only broken by the thumps of her stick. Her thoughts warred with the longings of her body, the ones that wanted her to leap upon him and finish what they had started in the loch. The others demanded that she let go of him and flee to the safe solitude of her bedroom. Neither the brazen nor the cowardly option completely worked for her. That he hadn’t been with Ciara comforted part of her, but not nearly enough.
Stepping into the clearing surrounding the cottage, Emma froze at the sight of Cortland poised with his sword in hand. His gaze locked on the far trail. Instantly, Declan dropped her hand and ran for the other weapon tucked against the bench.
“Get inside,” he demanded while running to Cortland’s side.
Hearing the beating of hoofs on the ground, Mary came flooding back into her wayward thoughts. So torn with Declan, she had spent the day not worrying about the child she loved.
“No way,” she argued, running to stand with them. “I’m not going to miss her arrival.”
“‘Tis more than one rider. If only once, let me shield you from harm’s path,” Declan offered, and his hand rose to cup her cheek. “When we deem it safe, you will be called in time to take our daughter from William’s arms.”
Emma blinked rapidly at the mention that Mary was theirs, but held her ground. “How quickly you’ve forgotten I’m not the type to hide in the shadows. If there is trouble, you’re going to need me.”
Cortland nodded, and she stood ready to face whatev
er was coming at them through the trees. Praying for Mary, she waited.
“‘Tis William,” Cortland confirmed as the riders broke through the dense trees. “I would ken that lad at any distance. He brings quite a few with him.”
“Seven,” Declan confirmed before she had a clear view.
Emma pushed past the men who attempted to keep her behind them. Cold ran down her spine at no sign of the child she had waited for days on end to arrive.
Despite the discomfort in her ankle, she dropped the stick and ran to William. Before he dismounted, she demanded, “Where is she?”
“Safe for now, I swear it,” William replied as he leapt from the stallion. He placed his hands on her shoulders. Before he could fill in any details, his eyes widened as he took in Declan at her back.
“So, you live,” William spoke with no trace of emotion. The six warriors with him eyed Declan warily and looked to Cortland for guidance.
“I live and wait for news on Mary. My tale will wait until yours is finished.” Declan motioned for the men to come closer.
Emma stilled and swayed on her feet, certain that whatever came next was not what she wanted to hear. Declan’s hands held her up and gave her the strength she lacked. “William?”
“For days, I have tried to find a way to spirit Mary away. Glenn’s men have kept their distance from her, yet five to seven men always have eyes on the cottage and the lasses. There was no way for me to remove her without a full battle, and Cortland told me to avoid such confrontations.”
“You what?” Emma screamed at Cortland. “William and the others could easily take down Glenn’s men. How dare you risk her life?”
“The child could have been harmed if swords were drawn, daughter. Use your mind and nay your heart to see my wisdom.” Cortland replied with the vocal tone he generally reserved for the training fields, and she hated how right he was.
“She is still with Aalish,” Emma said, hoping it was that simple.
“She was until last eve when Glenn ordered her brought to the keep.” When Emma growled, William calmly stated, “I brought her myself and delivered her to Meggie’s waiting arms. She will tend the lass personally, seeing to all her care and meals. For now, Mary is safe. Do you think I would have left if I thought there a risk to her? For your sake alone, Emma, I will protect the child as I am sworn to do.”
From behind her, Declan asked, “Why now? What else as happened?”
Mary was back in a household where poison ran free and disgusting creatures roamed the corridors. Panic and despair filled her soul at the thought of Mary with no one to protect her besides Meggie.
“Angus has returned and sits in private council with Glenn. They plot and plan to announce your death. To bind himself to the Draig clan in all possible ways, Mary is to be contracted to wed Glenn’s eldest son when she turns fifteen.”
Into her ear, Declan whispered, “Such a deed doubles Glenn’s guardianship to Mary. It also means she needs to live to see the contract honored. We have the time we need to save her.”
Somewhere that made sense, but Emma refused to sit by like a passive wimp while men plotted and planned. Storming away from the men, she grabbed the dangling reins of William’s horse. As her hands grabbed the pommel of the saddle, strong arms pulled her back down to the ground.
“Let me go, Declan,” Emma cried out, struggling against the arms banded around her middle. “I can’t sit here and hope that she is safe. I’m going to get my daughter.”
“I carry all of the same worry,” Declan said into her damp hair. “Charging in with no plan will only see us killed, and then we have no chance of aiding our wee lass.”
Emma fell limp in his arms when she heard the same message delivered from Cortland and echoed by William.
“I swear to you, Mary will be placed back into your arms by my hand.” Declan turned his head from hers to call out, “William, swear again to Emma that Mary is safe.”
“I swear it, Emma. Meggie swore never to leave her side. You ken I have never lied to you,” William called. She felt Declan flinched at her back with the barely veiled insult.
“Okay, William,” Emma said as the blood raced in her ears and she forced panic to the side. Mary’s smile flitted in her mind, and Emma turned within the arms that held her. Glaring up at Declan, she demanded, “Why are you still standing here? Go figure this out.”
Caught in his gaze, Emma sucked in a breath at the raw emotion on Declan’s face. She knew he had as much fear as she did. In the background, she heard Cortland whisper to William and the men that she and Declan were not reunited but united in a common goal. Only a blind person would have missed the sadness in Declan’s eyes when those words were overheard.
Though he didn’t speak, he solemnly nodded and cupped her face; she understood his pledge. His hands fell away, and turning to face the men, Declan called out, “You heard the woman, into the cottage.”
A part of her hated that he hadn’t referred to her as wife.
Chapter 31
“Is there something you wish to add?” Declan asked her from the chair at the end of the table. His gaze locked on her as it had been throughout the afternoon.
The plan seemed too simplistic to her in too many ways. She had expected some grand subterfuge, not a bare-boned approach. “Do you really think you can just walk back in?”
From her side, Cortland answered, “Declan left with no witnesses to his true condition. His entering the hall on the morrow will be unexpected. ‘Tis the surprise that will aid us. Though we need to solve for the men nay being able to carry weapons into the hall. Any ideas?”
The men all glanced around the table with uncertainty on their faces. While the men were gifted warriors, facing Glenn’s men with only daggers would be ridiculous at best.
William stretched his legs under the table, and small chuckles were heard as his knee cracked the supports underneath. “Why do none build a table to allow a man to relax?” William grumbled right before his eyes widened. Crouching down to peer under the wooden table, his head popped back up with a wide grin. “‘Tis the same as the tables in the hall.”
Emma, along with every man at the table, peered at the X-style support beams that ran the width of the table. The length of a sword could easily be held by the supports and would be hidden unless someone bent under the table.
“We will see weapons stowed under the tables this verra night,” William declared. “Enough for every man and a few extra for surprises.”
Cortland nodded. “No man draws a weapon until Declan is inside the hall. I want the men positioned at the end of every table. The timing will be risky given that you will initially face men already armed.”
“Declan’s unexpected visit should have Glenn’s men dulled.” William took a sip of wine he brought with him, and then added, “If someone were to open a cask or two of the strong drink and see it placed on the tables, our odds will be improved.”
From the head of the table, Declan agreed. “Well done, William. See to it you open the better-quality drink from the back of the storage chamber. As Emma can attest, ‘tis a fine brew that dulls your thinking.”
Despite her foreboding at the risky plan, she laughed at the memory of their drunken post-battle night. “It definitely kills your rational thinking,” she quickly agreed. His answering grin replied for him.
Cortland brought the group back to attention. “Declan will enter into the hall, and our men will be ready and waiting to take back the keep. Any further questions before I send you off to complete your tasks and ready the rest of the men?”
“We will inform the men what to expect, and all will be ready with swords close at hand,” William confirmed, and the other men enthusiastically agreed.
The men used the dirty dishes on table to map out the main hall and their necessary positions
.
“I will sneak in through the kitchens and be prepared to join when the moment is at hand,” Cortland added. Glancing at each of the men, he said, “It would seem our work is done.”
“Not so fast,” Emma chimed in. “We need to be prepared in case things go wrong. While you all fight in the hall, I’ll run up the back stairs and get Mary out.” It was hard to tell who yelled no first, Declan or Cortland.
“I’m all that’s left,” she insisted. “Everyone else is needed in the hall. You’ve agreed we’re spread too thin for an easy victory based on the number of Glenn’s men. I’ll sneak in with my da, grab Mary, sneak out, and wait for you by wherever we tie the horses.”
Declan leaned closer and growled, “No wife of mine goes into battle. You will remain here where ‘tis safe.”
“You can nay command Emma as your wife,” William threw out.
“Enough, William.” Emma had enough issues sorting out her relationship with Declan without interference.
Cortland’s hand squeezed her leg under the table. “As much as it pains me to say it, you are correct, daughter. However, there will most likely be a guard near her door. Are you hale enough?”
“To get Mary? You better believe it.” She would take on as many men as necessary to see Mary safe.
Cortland’s hand lifted to keep Declan quiet. “You are to stay to the back corridors, get the lass and flee.” With a stern warning, he added, “I dinna care what you may hear in the hall, you flee. Do you hear me?”
First, she nodded. “Like I would bring Mary into a battle. I know what to do.” William winked at her, and the men praised her spirit, though Declan looked like he was ready to spit nails.
William rose, and the other men followed. “We should get back to prepare for the morrow.”
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