by Amanda Scott
Fin did not hesitate. “You do me great honor, my lord. I will agree, aye.”
“Good, then. Sign right there at the bottom,” the Mackintosh said, dipping the quill and handing it to him. “Nae one has lived there for a time, but ’tis a sturdy place and can soon be made comfortable for a family.”
Fin signed, received yet another goblet of whisky, and drank with his new kinsman to their agreement. Catriona stood nearby, and other than hugging her grandfather and thanking him, she remained silent.
“The door’s yonder, lad,” Mackintosh said. “Ye’ve nae reason now to tarry.”
Putting a hand to Catriona’s elbow, Fin urged her toward the door and ahead of him up the narrow stairway. He was thankful that they would have privacy.
Many weddings, as he knew, ended in a raucous bedding ceremony that was highly entertaining for the company but rarely so for the couple. He was sure that, under the circumstances, having to endure such a ceremony would not be helpful.
When they were safely in her bedchamber, she turned to face him. “Do you still think we must bed at once, sir, after what Rothesay said below?”
“I do, aye,” he said. “We have a duty to consummate our marriage, and you are as aware as I am that James and Morag are waiting for us. We can fratch later.”
“But I don’t understand why you never told me.”
Taking a step toward her, looking right into her eyes as he did, he said, “I should have told you, but we can discuss the matter as we travel, lass. We will not discuss it now. Not with everyone waiting downstairs to bid us farewell.”
She stepped back.
Annoyance stirred, but he knew that she had cause to feel as she did. However, such discussions took time, and he did not believe that the people waiting below in the hall and in the yard would be patient. He glanced at the door to the main stairway. “Does that door have a bolt?”
“Nay,” she said. “I have never needed one.”
“Aye, well, beddings often become public affairs, lass. The reason your grandfather sent us up the service stair was to give us privacy. But if we do not go down soon, they will come up. I don’t think you will like that.”
Her face paled. “Then perhaps you should go down and tell them…”
“Tell them what?” he asked when she paused uncertainly.
When she did not answer, he took another step, saying gently, “We are the same two people we were earlier. The only difference is that now we are married. We can still talk to each other, and we will. Now, come here to me, sweetheart.”
She turned away.
“Catriona…” His patience was ebbing.
Catriona recognized the warning tone. Turning, she saw that his lips had formed a straight line hard enough to make a tiny muscle twitch in one cheek. Recalling Lady Annis’s warning, she felt an odd little thrill dance up her spine.
“We have made vows to each other, Catriona,” he said evenly. “I will keep mine, and I expect you to keep yours.”
“What will you do if I don’t? Ravish me or beat me?” But her heart was pounding, and the way he looked at her now made her want to touch him.
“You know that I would not hurt you or force you,” he said, clearly keeping his temper in check.
The tension in the room had increased tenfold, much of it within her own body. Her anger had ebbed with that tension, too, as if she could not contain two strong emotions at once.
He was determined, and that determination stirred indescribable feelings inside her. From her tingling skin to the core of her body, every nerve had come alive. When he took yet another step toward her, they vibrated as if someone had plucked a harp with strings attached to every part of her.
He reached for her.
She licked her lips, eyeing him warily but without fear. Anticipation of what he might do warred with her own desire to touch him, to let him know how she felt deep inside. Then he touched her cheek, the palm of his hand warm against it but making it ache a little, too, reminding her of her father’s fury the night before and how Fin had responded to it.
“We can deal better than this, lass,” he said, his voice low-pitched and husky. “I promise you, we will discuss whatever you like for as long as you like whilst we travel. James said that Morag seeks privacy with him, too, so they will leave us to ourselves. Now, unless you want me to have to tell them that we have failed to consummate our marriage…” He paused.
She certainly did not want that. “Would you really tell them?” she asked, although she knew what he would say.
“I will not lie to them,” he said. “Nor, I think, would you. Forbye, they will examine the sheets.”
Experiencing a sense of relief just to know that she had judged him aright, she felt the warmer sensations increase.
The hand on her cheek shifted to her left shoulder, and when she did not object, both of his hands moved to her laces. When one of them chanced to brush across the tip of a breast, the feeling it caused made her gasp.
Lingering warmth from the wine she had drunk enhanced the feeling. She felt as if it spread its heat all through her.
He opened her bodice, stroking the tawny velvet as he did. The cool air in the room made her tremble as he untied her shift ribbons and bared her breasts.
“Ah, lassie,” he murmured, “how beautiful you are. I wish we could take our time, so that I might show you how pleasant this can be. But I fear…”
“… that someone will come, I know,” she said. “I do know something of what must be done, because Grandame did tell me. But can it be done so swiftly?”
The question alone was answer enough for Fin’s willing body, which leaped mightily at the vision she produced in his mind. But he did not want to hurt or frighten her, so he said, “It can be done, sweetheart. But I’d liefer have your dress off first, for you will be more comfortable so.”
She reached for her gold-linked girdle, unclasping it and setting it atop a kist. He helped her slip off her velvet tunic, its matching skirt, and her red flannel underskirt. Standing before him in only her shift, its top still agape to reveal her firm, rosy-tipped breasts, she was even more magnificent than he had imagined.
Stripping off her shift and casting it aside, he picked her up and carried her naked to the bed, which the women had turned down to reveal the pristine sheet. Laying her down, he took off his shoes, hose, and netherstocks. His cock was ready for her, and he saw her eyes widen when she saw it, but she did not protest.
“You did not say if your grandame warned you that the first time may be painful for you,” he said. “But I’ll do all I can to make it easier, especially since we have a long ride ahead of us. We need only couple, though, no more, so—”
“Aye, sure, I know that,” she said as if she wondered why he would say something so obvious.
“Ah, but there is more to this than you may be thinking after we’ve finished. So you should know before we start that to do what I mean to do will deny me much pleasure. That denial will weigh heavily on me until I can ease its weight, which,” he added, grinning now, “I mean to do before we rest tonight.”
Catriona could scarcely breathe as she watched him. He had taken off only his hose and netherstocks. But it was enough to tell her that Lady Annis must be mad to think that a man built as he was could ever couple with a woman as small as Catriona.
He glanced again at the door to the main stairway.
“In troth, sir, I doubt that anyone will enter without rapping first,” she said.
“Likely, you’re right,” he said. “We’ll just snatch blankets over us if they do.”
On those words, he got into bed, stretched out beside her, and raised himself on an elbow to lean over and kiss her. His breath smelled pleasantly of whisky, and the velvet doublet he still wore caressed her bare breasts, stirring new sensations wherever it touched her. “Breathe deeply, and try to relax,” he murmured against her mouth as he stroked her belly. “I’ll be as gentle and as quick as I can be.”
With that, his stroking hand moved toward the juncture of her legs. When she stiffened, he shifted his hand to her thigh, stroking it gently but moving slowly, inexorably back toward his objective until his fingers brushed lightly over the curls there. When he slid a finger inside her, she started.
“Easy, sweetheart,” he murmured, kissing her again. “I think your body is more prepared to receive me than your mind is. Don’t think, just feel.”
Chapter 16
I’m feeling so much that I can’t think,” Catriona muttered. Then Fin touched something that made her earlier feelings seem tame by comparison. Fire shot through her. His lips claimed hers again, holding them captive as his fingers teased her more.
His tongue invaded her mouth, and she responded at once with her own.
She barely realized that she was moving against two fingers now, trying to increase the pleasurable sensations they elicited within. Then he withdrew them and moved to replace them with a larger part of himself.
Straddling her now, bearing his weight on his legs and his hands, he looked into her eyes as he pressed himself gently inside her. Catriona tried to relax, moaning in soft protest to a dull ache. He paused, eased out again, and repeated the movements. Now resting on his knees and forearms, he no longer kept her mouth occupied with his lips and tongue, but the sensations below, both mesmerizing and somewhat worrisome, kept her mind well occupied.
Moving one hand to cup her left breast, he used his thumb to tease the nipple, diverting her attention just as he pressed himself fully inside her.
Gasping at the increasing pain, she felt her body respond nonetheless to his. She had closed her eyes, but she opened them to see his face contorting as if he were the one in pain. His body gave a sudden start, and his grimace became more profound as he drew in a long deep breath and let it out again. Just as she wondered what would come next, his face relaxed and he eased himself out of her.
“That should satisfy anyone bumptious enough to inquire into the matter,” he said gruffly as he shifted to lie beside her. “Was it so painful, lassie?”
“It ached some, but now it feels only hot and a bit prickly,” she said.
“A good word,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ll get you cleaned up then, or do you want me to shout for Ailvie? I do need to change my clothes for the journey.”
“Prithee, don’t call her until I can tidy myself, but you must do as you like.”
“I don’t like it at all,” he said with a wry smile. “I’d rather stay right where I am. And I should warn you that all I’m going to be thinking about until we’re safely in bed together at Castle Moigh is that I have unfinished business with you.”
She nearly told him that she would be thinking much the same thing. Then, she remembered that she was still annoyed with him. Somehow, that little detail had flown right out of her head the moment he had touched her.
Since she still wanted to make her feelings clear, she thought it might be wiser not to admit the effect that his touch had on her, so she said lightly, “You may not be safe as soon as you think, sir. We still have matters to discuss, you and I.”
“Aye, sure, lass. In turn, I’d remind you that a husband has greater rights in such discussion than a guest or a friend does. You have given your temper free rein several times since we met. I prefer that my wife remain civil in her manner to me.”
“Do you, sir?”
He gave her a direct look. “I do, aye.”
“Then do not give me cause to lose my temper, and all will be well.”
Holding her gaze, he said, “We’ll see just how well it is, won’t we?”
Fin grinned at her as he got out of bed and was glad to receive a wry smile in return. He did not want to debate anymore until they were on the road.
Shortly afterward, wearing suitable attire for riding, they joined James, Morag, their attendants, guests, and family members at the boat landing, where the travelers piled into one of the larger boats. Fin was thankful for all the company, the activity, and his mantle, because his body still expressed its disapproval of his decision to remove himself from the velvety warmth of Catriona’s sheath.
All the feelings that she had engendered remained wide awake in him, albeit not as strong as at the time of his withdrawal. Then it had elicited a surge of instinctive, primitive yearning to conquer her. His cock still twitched in awareness of her nearness, but at least it no longer ached.
That his decision had been the right one, he knew. Just watching her on the landing with the family, seeing how naturally she smiled when she spoke with the others and how gracefully she got into the boat assured him that their brief coupling had not hurt her enough to cause her distress as they traveled.
If God was kind, He would reward them both by nightfall. If He was in a more fractious mood, He would resurrect the earlier, more irritable lass.
Fin would do his best to prevent the latter choice.
They reached the opposite landing to find Toby and Ian waiting with a string of Highland garrons, the small, sure-footed horses that could travel nearly anywhere in mountainous terrain without missing a step. Four of them were sumpter ponies.
The others bore minimal leather saddles similar to those that Borderers used. Like the men, the women rode astride, their skirts made full enough for discretion.
Having said their farewells on the island, they mounted quickly.
Fin had not ridden a garron in years and recalled Rothesay’s description of riding such a horse. His feet seemed awkwardly close to the ground, but garrons were strong and could carry weights greater than his with ease.
After setting out on the trail that he and Catriona had followed to the loch’s outflow, they rode only a short way before they saw a half-dozen men striding toward them. All carried swords and dirks.
Toby Muir said, “Master, that be the gallous young slink that lost his sword tae ye the day we met ye and her ladyship just yonder.”
“Rory Comyn,” Catriona said at the same time. “What is he doing here?”
“I can guess,” James said. “We heard that he and other Comyns have been casting threats about and saying that he’d have you for his wife before the month is out. We ignored them, suspecting that Granddad had other plans.” He looked at Fin.
“Well, he means to make a nuisance of himself now,” Catriona said.
“Wait and see, lass,” Fin said. “We are too many for them to stir mischief.”
“Sakes, sir, all six of them are armed. And although our party is larger, our gillies carry just dirks. You, James, and Ian are the only well-armed men with us.”
“I’m here, too, m’lady,” Toby said indignantly. “And yon other lad, as well,” he added, gesturing to James’s equerry.
“So you are,” Catriona said. But Fin could see that she still believed that if the six Comyn men attacked, the Comyns would win.
He did not think that they would attack. Glancing back, he saw that the boatmen were still within call. Also, the six men approaching looked purposeful rather than dangerous.
Knowing that the garron would be of no use to him, he told Catriona to stay on hers and swung his leg over to dismount. He saw James and Ian do the same. But he did not notice until Catriona strode ahead of them that she had also dismounted.
He opened his mouth to call her to order just as she said, “Good morrow, Rory Comyn. ’Twas thoughtful of you and these others to come and bid me well.”
Fin shut his mouth when, except for their redheaded leader, the other Comyns halted. Rory took a few more steps toward Catriona, but after a glance at Fin and another at James, he stopped before he got too close to her.
“What be this, then?” he demanded. “Why should I wish ye well, lass?”
“Because I am now a married woman, sir,” she said with a smile. “As I ken fine that you had some thought of taking me to wife, I think it was kind of you to come all this way to help us celebrate the day.”
“I heard nowt o’ this,” he muttered, frowning at Fin
. Then he looked more measuringly at James, Ian, and the others behind them.
Taking his cue from Catriona, Fin moved to extend a hand to Comyn, saying, “I can understand your vexation. I’d be wroth if you had been before me, too.”
“Aye, well, I were before ye, and I’ll be after ye, come to that,” Comyn growled, ignoring Fin’s outstretched hand. Looking at Catriona, he said, “So, ye be celebrating the day. D’ye mean to say the event has only just taken place, then?”
“Hours ago,” she said, nodding. “And a fine day it is for a wedding, too.”
“There will be a reckoning for such betrayal, lass. The Mackintosh—aye, and your da, too—knew I wanted to speak more wi’ them. Yet they put me off. I came here today to make that plain to them and demand that we continue our talks.”
“There were no true nego—” Catriona broke off when Fin put a hand to her arm. She glanced at him, clearly eager to challenge Comyn’s words.
Aware that the man had talked himself into a temper that would seethe into fury before long, Fin said, “Gently, my lady. One can see that he believed that your kinsmen were still considering his suit. Forbye, when we met him before, you told me that they were. Sakes, any man would be irked by such treatment.”
“Aye, anyone would,” Comyn agreed. “But dinna think to cozen me into friendship wi’ such words, because I’ll see ye dead first.”
“Mayhap you will, Comyn,” Fin replied calmly. “But not today. The guards yonder at the castle will have noted your presence. They will likewise be eager to discuss your unwelcome presence further if you do not leave now.”
“Aye? Well, I dinna fear them, nor the Mackintosh, nor Shaw, nor any grander laird wi’ them wha’ thinks he wields power over any Comyn. Not one o’ them does, and so they should all ken fine. We’ll meet again, Fin o’ the Battles. Make nae mistake about that!”
Fin’s hand was still on Catriona’s arm, and he felt her stiffen. Believing that she was about to add her mite to the conversation, he squeezed her arm in warning.