The Highlander's Captured Bride (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

by Eloise Madigan

  He could see her through the small window; her head was down but her eyes kept flicking up. He knew what she saw. The sunlight was transforming his hair into a halo and sweat was glistening over his chest and forearms. His body took a supple curve as he lifted and swung the ax splitting log on the chopping block neatly in two.

  Firming his fingers around the wooden handle, he went back to chopping with a smile. After that night when she had surrendered her body to him, the last two days were sublime. Most of yesterday they had spent in the makeshift bed, and Violet’s shyness when it came to voicing her pleasure had become something of the past. And he was more than satisfied carrying her to completion time after time.

  His happy circumstances did not fully banish the worry about his father and Mister O’Cain that had a permanent place at the back of his mind. Were they all right? Had this murderer attempted on his promise to kill his father? Had they caught him?

  He centered the ax’s blade on the log, heaved back and swung, slicing completely through it and bent to grab both halves. Lobbying them unto the stack of cut wood near him he reached for another log.

  If that bastard has even laid a finger on me faither—

  The two pieces of wood flew apart and the jarring handle told him he had used too much force on this one. Resolutely reaching for another log, he channeled his anger into the swing and the pieces blasted apart even harder. He reached for another when Violet’s hand rested on his and he spun. When had she even approached him?

  “Why daenae ye rest a little, hm?” She asked, holding up a goblet to him and angling her head to the trees. “I’ll join ye.”

  Heaving a breath out, he stuck the ax into the stump and nodded. Under the cool shade of the trees, he sat and used the shirt he’d hung up on a limb to dab the sweat on his chest and arms. Slumping to the ground, he took the goblet with an uttered thanks, and found it held cool water.

  The horses were merrily munching on grass while their separate buckets filled with water stood at the sides of the trees. He drank his fill and laid his hand on his bent knee.

  Dangling the cup he nodded, “I needed that, thank ye.”

  Leaning on his side, she hummed, “I ken we have enough wood for a few days, ye needn’t cut so much.”

  Viewing the fair skies through the tree’s shifting boughs, Ethan shrugged, “It may be summer but we arenae strange to having sudden storms roll in at times. It’s better to be prepared and have it on hand than to have to need it in the middle of a tempest.”

  She settled in closer and her hair brushed his nose, “Me mind keeps wondering about our faithers. Dae ye ken they’ve made any progress with the killer?”

  “I hope so,” he replied, shifting to let her rest more on his chest than his arm. “Otherwise…” he snorted he nodded to the chopping block behind them, “Daes it makes me a bad person to visualize that cutthroat’s head laying across it?”

  “I wouldnae ken so,” she replied, her tone taking on a soft, sleepy inflection. “When someone hurts yer family, it’s natural to want revenge.”

  Nosing her hair, he asked with a smile, “Ye have all the right answers, daenae ye?”

  “I’d like to ken so, but,” she shrugged, “I tend to get it wrong a lot. Yer lucky I’ve been right on some things so far.”

  “What did happen when ye got it wrong,” Ethan asked, tilting his head to feel the breeze flowing over the land.

  “Someone nearly died,” she said, hollowly. “We, nay, I estimated the villain would act at a certain time at night as I believed he was doing sacrifices but I overestimated his motive and when we found the girl, we just realized the man was just a manic. We got the girl back by the skin of our teeth.”

  Noticing that she owned up to the fault, Ethan asked, “Sounds like ye were in charge of those cases, we’re ye?”

  Shifting, she sighed, “Nay, but I was the one who came up with the notion that the man was a devil worshiper based on the last kill, that took place at midnight. We later found that it was just a coincidence and that I had been reading too many ancient books that held speculative knowledge too much for my good.”

  Sensing that it was a sore subject for her, Ethan changed tactics and kissed under her ear, “How was last night for ye?”

  Their lovemaking felt endless; alone and uninterrupted they had all the time and freedom to explore each other. His gut stirred when she turned pink cheeks to him, and he remembered how he had kissed, suckled and worshipped every part of her body.

  “Ye werenae rough, if that’s what yer asking,” she said quietly.

  “Good,” he said. Nodding to the pile of wood, he asked, “I ken that will do us for a while.”

  “Speaking of,” Violet pointed to a section of the yard that was not as bushed up as the rest, “Did ye plant food over there? I was walking yesterday evening and ken I could see the leaves of carrots and potatoes there.”

  Looking in the direction she pointed, Ethan chuckled, “I forgot about that. Aye, Faither had planted such things but I doubt any of them, if they survived or spawned, will be edible.”

  “If ye help me clear it out, we’ll see then,” Violet murmured as she cuddled closer to him. “But nae now, I’m too comfortable here.”

  Wrapping his arm around her. Ethan softly lifted her unto his lap and Violet pressed her face to the crook of his neck and shoulder. She fitted into his body like a missing piece, and how she fit was more than their physical joining. She had shown him so many parts of herself that he felt loved, her daring, playful side, juxtaposed with her cautious wisdom. Her body was stunning no matter her fears that her body was inadequate.

  Sliding his fingers into her loose, silky hair, he did not feel the urge to move either and luxuriated with her on his lap. All around them was peaceful quiet, hardly broken by the wind, the chirping birds or the snuffles from the horses.

  “If we stay here much longer, I’m going to fall asleep,” he uttered.

  “Is that a bad thing?” she replied, drowsily.

  “I can think of a softer place to rest that doesnae have rough tree bark digging into me back,” he replied, twisting his head, he nudged hers. “And if we want to explore that bush for yer carrots and potatoes, we will need some time to get it done. And we need to put the wood away.”

  Huffing softly, Violet pulled away and grumbled under her breath, “Shouldnae have said anything,” looking at him she nodded. “Ye get on the bush, I’ll put the wood inside.” She shifted to get on her feet, but twisted to kiss his cheek first. “I’ll have dinner ready when yer done.”

  “Thank ye,” he smiled.

  There was nothing in the house he had ever touched from the day they had come into the cabin. Violet had the place spick and span, the bed made, food ready and water warmed for bathing and it was all easy for her. She had shown that she truly was a homemaker. He did not doubt that she would have a spectacular dinner ready for him when he went inside.

  As she went to the piles of wood, he took the ax and went to the part of the bush she had pointed out. The ax was inadequate for this task but he had to make it work. Grabbing a hunk of the bush, he set to work.

  * * *

  He heaved a bucket of surprisingly wholesome carrots, turnips, and potatoes, into the cabin. She was washing some bowls in a basin when he stepped in and turned to smile at him then went back to the bowl. His lips twitched at the neat triangle of wood and simmering over the fire was the meal Violet had promised to have ready.

  Resting the bucket on the floor, he called, “Yer luck has followed yer, love. A lot of the tubers were rotten but some survived.”

  “Maybe I can add some carrots to the stew,” she mused while drying her hands and coming to him but as she reached for the bucket, he grabbed her hand and tugged her closer and spun her around.

  “I ken I have a better idea than just eating,” he said, loving the curiosity that sprung to her eyes. “Why daenae we take a dip in the river first. I’m coated in sweat and I daenae ken ye’d like to be
in bed with a man that stinks like a pig.”

  “And who is that?” She asked, cheekily glancing over her shoulder with a searching look on her face. “Or am in a house with another man?”

  He swatted her behind lightly, “Ye’re looking at him.”

  Violet’s arms wrapped around his neck and her expression was soft, “We can dae that. I ken it would enjoyable.”

  She was responded with a kiss, tender and sweet but holding a tone of deep yearning. “Good, its near sunset, the water should be warm still.”

  Pulling away, she went to get the change of clothes she needed as he did. With the bundle balled under her arm, he took her free hand. “Ye can swim, aye?”

  “Nay,” she grinned. “But we have time for ye to teach me.”

  * * *

  As he had suspected, the water was warm. The pads of his feet rested on the flat stones of the riverbed but his eyes were on Violet. It was not sunset yet but the bright orb was dimming and taking on an orangish hue goes on dimming. A tint of pink was barely coloring the sky and the silver-blue river became a kaleidoscope as the colors deepened. A flock of birds was cackling on a nearby tree, drawing his attention momentarily before it swung back to the river and Violet.

  “Turn back around,” he said with his arms laid out. “Remember, ken of it as yer laying on a bed.”

  Her thin smock was soaked right through and clung to her body, outlining every dip and curve of her body. It hardly hid anything but she wore it to have a semblance of modesty. He was teaching her how to float on the water, and obediently, Violet laid back and rested on his hands. As her feet came up, he sensed stiffness in her body.

  “Close yer eyes and breathe, love,” he said. “Ye’ll sink like a stone if ye are so stiff.”

  She sucked in a deep breath and her body softened but she was still rigid. “A little more, come on, breathe and loosen up, I’m here, I won’t let ye go.”

  Her eyes flicked open and looked at him briefly before they closed and her body finally went lax. Gradually, he lowered his hands from her body but did not step away. Her body rested on the water, bobbing with the soft tide and quiet. Until a bird squawked so hard, Violet jumped out of her daze.

  He grabbed her, before she flailed and sucked in enough water to drown herself. Her head snapped side to side in fright while her body was flush against his. It was wrong, but he laughed, only to earn himself a glare and a soft strike to his bare chest.

  “What?” he asked, barely holding in his mirth.

  “Ye laughed,” she said sweetly with narrowed eyes. “Ye’ll be paying for that later.”

  As she moved off toward the banks, he looped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to his chest, dropped his mouth to her ear and asked, “Really, how?”

  Gooseflesh rose on her wet skin at the pass of his breath and as his left hand slid up her side to cup her breast, she shivered. Her lips parted but only her breath slid out. When her eyelids fluttered and dipped on the droplets on her cheek, the sun’s ochre hue shimmered gold over her skin.

  Swallowing over the tight knot in his throat, he dipped and pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “We should—” he cleared his throat. “—get back inside, it will get cold very soon.”

  With her eyes on the shifting water, Violet nodded wordlessly. On the bank, he quickly donned a shirt and stepped into old loose trousers while staring pointedly at the river while Violet put on her dress. Gazing at the waters, he felt the small tumult in his stomach settle when he looked back at Violet.

  She smoothed her wet hair back and arched an eyebrow to him, “Something wrong?”

  Tilting his head slightly, he shook it, “Nay, everything is right.”

  Walking back to the cabin, he felt the flash of lust simmer to a quieter emotion. Inside, he hopped out into the backyard to make sure the horses had water and then went back to see Violet in her simple cotton nightdress. She was stirring the pot and the scent of the stewed meat had him hungry but he craved Violet more than the food.

  Spinning a chair, he rested his forearms on the back just to watch her. Sable tresses were curling at her nape and she lifted a hand to absentmindedly brush stubborn tendrils away. Her skin glowed in the simple firelight.

  Putting the pot’s cover back on she nodded, “It won’t be a while but it’ll need to warm up a good while.” Seated, she rested her head on the wall. “I had a wonderful time, thank ye.”

  Propping his head on a fist, Ethan said, “Dae ye have any inkling the number of memories I have had in this cabin? They’re nay much but all of them are more special to me than rare gems.”

  Tucking her knees under her chin, Violet prodded, “I’d like to hear some…but not if it’s too troubling.”

  Shaking his head, Ethan pulled up his earliest memories of being inside this cabin and shared how his five-year-old-self had run around the backyard chasing the birds that pitched there, hoping to catch one. A warm feeling settled in his chest when a memory of Finley pinning him to the floor and tickling him to breathlessness.

  Tales followed tales of his boyhood here in the hunting cabin about the adventures he and his brother would find themselves in. He only paused when the food was served but jumped right back in.

  Pointing his spoon knife at the spot over their heads, he pointed to a rafter that had a dark spot in it. “We almost burnt the cabin down, thank God we got it out before Faither came back from hunting our dinner. When he did come back and cut that rabbit throat, I dinnae ken what made the worst mess on the grass, the rabbit’s blood or me stomach. He was more worried about making sure I’d eat something than looking up to the ceiling.”

  Slapping her hand over her mouth, Violet swallowed, before she spoke, “So he never looked up?”

  “Nae,” he said finishing his food. “Finley and I made sure he was always preoccupied during the three days he was here. He never saw it.”

  Taking her bowl and his to the washing basin, she said over her shoulder. “I wish I could add more happy tales but unless ye want to hear tales of me faither’s failed attempts at playing dolls with me, I dinnae ken I’ll have anything interesting to say.”

  Edging up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck, “I dinnae mind. Naything ye can say will bore me.”

  “Consider that when me stories put ye to sleep,” she smirked.

  Prying her hands away from the bowl, Ethan plucked up a cloth and dried them. “Come with me.”

  Pushing the backdoor open, he led her to sit on the step below then sat behind her, hugging her close to his chest. When her body went lax against him, he kissed her ear. Cool night air cossetted both of them with a soothing touch and the moonlight flickered through the thin clouds above with a mystic touch.

  A burst of cackle from night birds drew his attention towards the river where a swarm of lightning bugs soon danced in the night sky in dots of brilliant gold. Holding her this close, staring out into the calm night sky, breathing the river water scent from her skin and knowing she was going to share his bed that night, Ethan felt tranquility in his soul. The worries about his father and finding his brother’s murderer did not present themselves to steal the quiet happiness he held.

  It had taken his brother’s death, to send this angel to him, a death threat from a murderer, asylum in his father cabin and the sublime sharing of their bodies for him to realize what fate was trying to show him. He just had to fulfill his promise to protect her and see them through the time away from the castle.

  Violet was a sweet, lovely, beautiful and wise young woman with an innocent child-like soul even after seeing the most hideous human acts. Only when the danger was over and that murderer was caught, would he be free from his worry to ask her to marry him.

  “It’s remarkable how being away from the cities or villages makes ye realize the peace ye get from nature,” he murmured.

  “I ken,” Violet said, tracing tiny circles on the back of his hand, while her eyes were on the sky. “I wouldnae liv
e here though.”

  “Why?”

  Her slim shoulder shrugged, “I suppose I’m much used to city life. It's lovely out here and I am nay complaining about yer company but I’d like to interact with more than ye and the two horses we have.”

  Chuckling, he shook his head, “We’ll get back soon enough but now,” he kissed her hairline, “I ken we should get some rest.”

  Standing, he helped her up and closed the door behind them. “I’ll have to go to the nearest town to get some more supplies for us on the morrow, so tell me what—” Shucking his shirt, he tugged off his boots and was reaching for his long léine when Violet’s hand rested on his. “—ye need and I’ll—”