by Amanda Scott
“Don’t be daft, man. Your bride is his sister, and his lady will do as he bids.”
Fin knew he had erred in mentioning Morag’s wishes. But he’d seen Catriona come in and knew she had overheard Davy’s comments. Even in the dim morning light, he saw her cheeks darken but could not tell if she was vexed or just embarrassed.
Hearing James clear his throat behind him, Fin hoped that his soon-to-be good-brother would support leaving as soon as possible.
James said, “Your company would be gey welcome, Fin. But I did promise Morag that we’ll take no more time than necessary here or at Moigh. Sithee, my lady would prefer to spend the night with our kinsmen at Daviot, five miles nearer to Inverness. That would shorten our journey tomorrow and likewise leave Castle Moigh to you and Cat for your wedding night.”
Looking again at Catriona, who stood by Shaw and gazed into the fire, Fin said, “I will talk with her, James. You and I can easily find time to discuss this more before you must leave.”
James nodded, but Rothesay said, “You are a fool, Fin, if you think these Mackintoshes will let you leave with their lass still a maiden. They’ll not risk your returning her in a like state and demanding annulment due to lack of consummation. Mayhap they should watch it, just to be sure,” he added with a mocking grin.
That grin made Fin nearly certain Davy had guessed that Catriona had either exaggerated their relationship or lied about it. That he was still enjoying himself was likely due to the evident intent to conceal the fact.
Fin glanced then at Mackintosh and got a curt nod, indicating that Rothesay was right about one thing. The family—the head of it, at least—would insist that he and Catriona consummate their marriage before departing.
Mackintosh came forward then to say lightly, “It takes little time, lad. The first coupling is a shock to any young bride, but if ye’ve a good appetite for her, it need take just a minute or two. James can wait that long. I’m thinking, too, that ye’ll have more energy for it if ye eat first, and will thereby enjoy yourself the more.”
Rothesay’s grin widened, making Fin wish fervently that one could horsewhip the young Governor of the Realm without hanging for it.
James, still behind him, said quietly, “A private word with you, Fin?”
Nodding, Fin moved away with him, and James added softly, “My lass says she wants time alone with me. She says such time has been sadly lacking in our marriage. It may seem a small thing—”
“Nay,” Fin told him. “Catriona and I have things to discuss, too. But we can all travel to Moigh together and still give ourselves distance enough to talk with our wives. Then, too, you will be alone with Morag from Moigh to Castle Daviot.”
James agreed, and they saw Morag approaching, so Fin moved to join Shaw and Catriona by the fire. Donald and Alex entered together shortly afterward, followed by their retainers and Donald’s mendicant friar.
Catriona turned to Fin when he neared the hearth, and as her gaze met his, a slight smile touched her lips, lingered there, and grew warmer.
Feeling himself stir in response, Fin smiled, too.
Chapter 15
Catriona’s first thought as she watched Donald and Alex enter with their attendants was that the friar looked too shabby to be performing a wedding.
She wore a gown of soft tawny velvet, and Fin looked particularly fine in a green velvet doublet and darker green hose that she had not seen him wear before. All the talk of their consummation and the thought of coupling with him had stirred her curiosity again. When he looked at her, she felt suddenly shy.
She had no time to think after that, because the friar said to Fin, “We’ll begin at once if ye please, sir. The ceremony be short, and the Mackintosh said that nae one wants to sit through a nuptial mass. We’ll eat when we’re done here, he said.”
Rothesay, having moved near enough to overhear him, chuckled and said in his usual, carrying voice, “Everyone, gather round. Our priest would begin, and I smell roasting beef, so do not dawdle.”
Catriona saw Fin’s lips press together, but Rothesay’s behavior no longer disturbed her. Her gaze rested on Fin, and her thoughts lingered there, as well.
His lips relaxed, and a twinkle lit his eyes.
Without thinking, she reached out a hand to him.
“Nay, not yet, m’lady,” the friar said. “Ye’ll be letting me say the words over ye first. Now, Sir Finlagh, d’ye take this woman to be your wife…?”
Catriona listened and enjoyed the sound of Fin’s voice as he plighted his troth to her in all manner of ways, “for this time forward, till death us depart.”
The friar said then, “Ha’ ye a ring for your lady, sir?”
Catriona, watching Fin, saw consternation in his expression. But before he could speak, aid came to him unexpectedly.
“Aye, he does,” the Mackintosh said, stepping forward. “I have the ring right here, lad.” As he handed something to Fin, Mackintosh looked at Catriona and said, “ ’Twas me mother’s ring, lassie. I promised her that I would keep it for my favorite granddaughter, and so I have if ye’ll accept it from us now.”
Her eyes awash with sudden tears, Catriona caught hold of his arm and stood on tiptoe to kiss his wrinkled cheek. “I do accept it, sir, and proudly. I thank you, too, for I will think of you both, as well as of my husband, whenever I look at it.”
Slipping it onto her finger, and at the friar’s prompting, Fin said, “With this ring I thee wed, and with its gold and silver I thee endow. With my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly cattle I thee honor.”
Obediently repeating vows similar to his first ones, Catriona also promised to be “meek and obedient in bed and at board,” as she plighted her troth to Fin.
And that was apparently that, because the friar turned to face the audience and said, “My lords, my ladies, and all here watching, I pray you, take heed now of this married couple, Sir Finlagh and Lady…” Pausing, he looked ruefully at Fin. “Bless me, sir, I did forget to ask ye what her ladyship’s proper styling be.”
“Lady Finlagh will do for now,” Fin said.
“… Sir Finlagh and Lady Finlagh,” the priest repeated.
“Have ye whisky nearby, Mackintosh?” Davy Stewart demanded. “I’ve a thirst on me now that nowt save whisky will slake.”
“I do have some, aye, as any good Highlander does,” Mackintosh replied. “Fetch the jug from my chamber, James, and send one of the lads to fetch more. Everyone should drink to this wedding, especially Fin and Catriona.”
Catriona wrinkled her nose at the thought of drinking the fiery stuff. But when she did, Fin leaned close and murmured, “You’ll drink with me, lass. It will warm you for what is to come after we have broken our fast.”
“I’d liefer drink it after I eat something,” she whispered back. “I don’t mind whisky with honey when I’ve an ague on me. But, other times, nay.”
“Then we’ll drink our toast from one goblet,” he said. “You need only touch your lips to the whisky to avoid bad luck in our marriage. But if you will heed some good advice, you’ll take some claret with your food. You did hear that your grandfather expects us to consummate our union afterward, did you not? And that James and Morag will be waiting for us to get on with it?”
“Aye, sure,” she said. Feeling suddenly shy, she looked away, adding, “I ken what we’ll do then, because my grandame told me. She said it will be pleasurable.”
Lady Annis had said more than that, for she had been as blunt about sex as she was about most things. But that had been nearly two years ago. And Catriona remembered the physical description and promise of pleasure, but little else.
Fin put two fingers under her chin, making her look at him. Smiling warmly, he said, “We’ll see that it does become pleasurable, lass. I mean us to practice as often as possible. For now, though, I’ll just treat myself to one wee kiss.”
With that, right there in front of everyone who cared to watch, he put his free arm around her and slowly, tantaliz
ingly, bent nearer until his warm lips touched hers. Then, as if they were alone instead of in the midst of a large company, he drew her close enough to feel his length against hers and shifted the hand at her chin to the small of her back, pressing her closer.
His lips ravished hers, and his body stirred against her own. When the tip of his tongue sought entrance to her mouth, she resisted briefly and then submitted to its penetration. Closing her eyes, she moaned when his tongue began to joust with hers. The sensations he stirred stimulated others, a whole host of others.
He ended the kiss at last but did not release her. And her eyes stayed shut, because her mind had filled with images of what lay ahead of them.
When applause broke out, and cheers, her eyes flew open. Dazed, she felt as if some strange spell that had overcome her had ended abruptly with the noise.
“You’re blushing, sweetheart, but you need not,” Fin said. “A man has a right to kiss his bride after the ceremony.”
She smiled then. “I didn’t mind at all.”
As they turned toward the high table, the Mackintosh approached them and said, “Ye’ll take time to meet with me in the inner chamber after we break our fast, lad, and ye’ll bring your lass with ye.”
“Granddad, you cannot mean for us to consummate our marriage in there!”
“Nay, lass, although I’ll admit that I did think it would be a grand honor to let ye. But your grandame called me a dafty and said ye’d prefer your own bed to any other. Ailvie and the women be preparing it for the two of ye now.”
Relieved beyond measure, because she could not imagine consummating her marriage in the bed that her parents shared and that her grandparents had slept in for a month, Catriona went contentedly with her husband to the high table.
Rothesay awaited them there. “The Mackintosh said that you should take the central chairs, Fin. So I’ll sit beside you. Having given my blessing to this marriage, it is right and proper that I do. I do have a question, though.”
“Aye, sir?”
“Why Lady Finlagh? Why not Lady Cameron?”
Wondering what mischief Rothesay was up to now, Fin said, “So you know my clan, do you, sir? I thought that you must.” Noting a flash of disappointment on the prince’s expressive face, he felt a twinge of unease.
“Aye, sure,” Rothesay said. “I’ve known all about you from the start. Bishop Traill told me that you had cause to keep your identity to yourself. And knowing how fractious our Highland clans can be, I decided that that cause was likely a matter of self-preservation. Is that how it was?”
“ ’Tis close enough,” Fin said.
“I see. But the great feud was between your confederation and Clan Chattan,” Rothesay said. “So, I did wonder if the Mackintosh knew. But your lady showed no surprise just now when I asked, and one does assume that if she knows, he does.”
“Aye, sure, he does,” Fin said.
“Then, I repeat, why ‘Lady Finlagh’?”
“Because I am a younger son, of course,” Fin said with a shrug. “ ’Tis how folks will style her at home, where my brother’s wife is Lady Cameron.”
“Aye, sure, ’tis the usual way. That reminds me, though, of why I wondered if the Mackintosh knew about you. It was not just that Camerons and Mackintoshes were foes in that battle at Perth. It was also that you belong to the same Camerons who began that feud, over who owns Tor Castle and the Loch Arkaig estates.”
For the second time in less than an hour, Fin indulged in murderous thoughts about Rothesay. And one look at Catriona told him that she had indeed recalled his equivocal reply when she’d asked him about Tor Castle the day after they had met.
Catriona had heard Rothesay’s comments plainly. But it took a moment to realize that the heat she felt rising in her was no longer sensual but emotional.
By the time she recognized her feeling of betrayal for what it was, she likewise realized that she could not vent her reaction to it then and there. But when she shot Fin an oblique, speaking glance, she saw that he was already facing her and had been expecting such a look, if not more.
“Lass,” he said quietly. “I should have told you. We’ll talk about it later.”
Nodding, she dared not speak lest she say exactly what she was thinking.
She was still thinking about what he had said about Tor Castle that day, when she heard Lady Annis, just to her left, say, “That friar of Donald’s did better than one hoped of such a ragged creature. Ye be well and truly wedded now, dearling. And your granddad thinks ye’ve done gey well for yourself withal.”
“Does he, Grandame?” Grateful for an excuse to look anywhere other than at her husband, Catriona added, “I expect Granddad also told you that we mean to stay at Castle Moigh for the next few days.”
“Aye, sure. When he sent the messenger to warn them of your coming, I made sure that all will be in readiness for you. I expect James told you that he and Morag will ride on to Daviot, so ye’ll have the place nearly all to yourselves.”
“I overheard him telling Fin,” Catriona admitted.
“Your Fin is a fine man,” Lady Annis said. “Mind, though, that ye do not let him see that temper of yours until ye’ve taken measure of his. I have seen signs in the man much like those that ought to have warned me to tread warier than I did with your grandsire at the outset of our marriage. We lived here, then, of course.”
“What happened?”
Lady Annis smiled reminiscently. “He scolded me for doing what I thought had been a natural thing for me to do. So I pitched a basinful of cold water at him.”
“You didn’t!” When she nodded, Catriona said, “What had you done?”
Her ladyship shrugged. “I climbed a tree to get a wider view of the loch.”
“Well, I think that does sound perfectly natural. Why did it anger him?”
“Perhaps I ought to have explained that I was wearing only my shift at the time. We had been… um… getting better acquainted, as one might say.”
A gurgle of laughter rose in Catriona’s throat. “Where were you?”
“On the west shore yonder, near the landing. By my troth, though, he lectured me in the coble, all the way back to the castle, and all the way upstairs to our chamber. So, when I’d heard enough, I pitched the water at him… all over him.”
Catriona grinned. “And then?”
“That is all I am going to tell ye, Mistress Impertinence. Ye ken your granddad fine, so doubtless ye can use that fertile imagination of yours for the rest. But I am telling ye—I, who know men—that I see similar signs in your Sir Finlagh. His eyes narrow in the same way, and his jaw tightens so much that wee muscles jump in his cheeks. If ye would be happy, tread softly when ye see those signs.”
Catriona smiled and nodded but decided that in the next hour or so, it would be Fin, rather than she, who ought to be watching for signs of temper.
Tadhg interrupted them by extending a platter of thinly sliced beef to Catriona. She nearly reminded him that he should serve her grandmother first before she remembered that, as the bride, she was the ranking lady of the day.
Applying herself to her breakfast, she hoped that Fin would talk to her and not just try to assuage her displeasure so she would couple with him. She soon realized, with some indignation, that he was not paying her any heed.
A brief glance, however, provided an explanation for his neglect.
Rothesay, on his other side, was holding forth about something. After his recent behavior, she suspected that he was trying to make more mischief.
Someone, she decided, should have thoroughly acquainted Davy Stewart with a good stiff leather tawse during his childhood, to teach him better manners.
No sooner had she nodded to a gillie that he could clear her place than her grandfather stood and raised a goblet. “We’ll be drinking to the bride and groom now, if ye please. They’ll want to be getting on with the grandest duty of marriage.”
Delighted laughter greeted his announcement. Goblets were filled and rai
sed and the toasting soon over—too soon to suit Catriona. Worse, she had drunk some wine with each toast and could tell that she had had more than she should.
“Come now, into the inner chamber with ye,” the Mackintosh said, putting one hand on Fin’s shoulder and the other on Catriona’s. “Ye can take the service stair up to your bedchamber from there, so ye’ll have nae need to pass this way again. Our lads be already taking your things across the loch and loading the ponies. So everyone can go straight outside to see ye off after ye’ve dressed.”
As Catriona followed him into the inner chamber, she could feel Fin’s presence beside her as if he were touching her. Still irritated, she wondered what he was thinking and decided that he’d better be kicking himself for not being more forthcoming about his close connection to Tor Castle.
Wondering what the Mackintosh wanted with them, Fin followed Catriona, enjoying the enticing sway of her hips as she passed her grandfather into the chamber but trying to measure, too, just how upset she was.
Inside, Mackintosh shut the door and crossed to his table, from which he took a foolscap document. An inkpot and a sharpened quill lay nearby.
Turning to Fin, he said, “I’ll not take long with this, lad, for I ken fine that ye’re impatient to claim your bride. Also, we both know that James and Morag be champing at their bits to be off the island and away.”
“James promised to wait, sir,” Fin said.
“Aye, sure. Now this be the charter for Raitt Castle. I have signed it over to ye for your lifetime as a wedding gift. I’d be fain to see it go next to your heir, but I ken fine that ye’ll never change your name to Mackintosh, nor should ye. Not after nearly giving your life for Clan Cameron.”
“You are right, sir,” Fin said.
“Mayhap, though, if ye’ll choose to live much of each year at Raitt and one of your sons would agree to take the name, Shaw can arrange for it to pass to him. Sithee, he agrees to the notion. If aught happens to ye afore ye have a son, Raitt will revert to Catriona unless she remarries to an outlander. Agreed?”