Adrienne Basso (25 page)

Naturally, the wedding night followed the wedding celebration, yet another event that led to discussion and speculation, for the earl took his new bride to his bedchamber and did not emerge again for four days.

 

 

Two months after her wedding, exhausted from too little sleep, Fiona sprawled in the center of Gavin’s enormous bed—nay,
their
enormous bed—and regarded her husband. Naked, Gavin lay on his side facing her, bathed in the streaks of morning sunshine that streamed through the chamber window.

The sight of him sent her stomach spinning and her heart skipping. The love she felt for him was so complete, so intense, so overwhelming at times she couldn’t think straight. So, too, was the need to be near him. Feeding that need, Fiona reached out, caressing the curve of his jutting hip with her fingertips.

His eyes remained shut, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Have ye need of me again so soon, dear lady wife?”

“Gavin,” she admonished in a tone that usually had Spencer bracing for a lecture, “we cannot spend every waking moment making love.”

“Why not?”

“’Tis indecent,” she said primly. “And sets a lazy example for our people.”

Gavin released a rumbling shout of laughter and pulled Fiona into his embrace. “My former mistress is now lecturing me on proper behavior? What has happened to the world?”

“Enough,” Fiona shrieked as they tussled on the bed. His flesh was hard and hot. As always, the feel of him entranced her, but Fiona refused to be distracted. “I am no longer your mistress, but your wife. And I say there is more to marriage than bed sport.”

Suddenly, his mouth came over hers, silencing any protests. Sprawled on his back, Gavin drew her down on top of him, showering her face and neck with kisses. Fiona felt her body start to respond, her resistance slowly melt. She slid her fingers into his hair and stretched, twining herself around him.

“Feel what ye do to me, love,” he groaned.

“The same that you do to me,” she whispered, lifting one leg to climb astride his hips.

Heat enveloped Fiona as her body joined with his. She breathed in his familiar scent, savoring each sensation, every delicate caress as though it were the first time they were together. Following his erotically voiced instructions with an almost languid reverence, Fiona moved her hips with daring sensuality, beckoning her lover to share her passion.

Gavin ran his hands up her legs, over her hips, and along her back. She leaned forward and his eyes darkened. She adored how every emotion he felt showed so clearly on his face, in his eyes. It made the connection between them more forceful and intense.

She could feel urgency inside her building and she answered the need with a faster rhythm. Gavin approved, lifting his lower body off the mattress, thrusting upward. Clinging to him tightly, Fiona moaned as the sensations surrounded her. The strain was climbing higher and higher until it felt as though her very soul was clamoring for completion.

“Now, my love, now,” she panted, begging him to take her to that place where nothing else existed except the two of them and their intense love and need for each other.

He obliged, reaching down between their bodies, caressing her most delicate, sensitive spot. Fiona screamed as she lost all control. She felt the sparks skitter over her heated flesh. Quivering and shuddering, she let the pleasure wash over her, almost melting her body.

The muscles in Gavin’s body seized as he climaxed, too, his cock pressed to the very edge of her womb, pulsing and spurting deep inside her tight warmth. Unable to keep herself upright any longer, Fiona collapsed against him. Resting her cheek against his chest, she could hear his pounding heartbeat gradually begin to slow.

Afterward, when she finally came back to herself, Fiona stirred in his arms and perched her chin on Gavin’s broad chest to look up at him. Could a person die of pleasure and happiness? She almost asked, then decided she would relish the delight of the moment instead and worry about dying another day.

“’Tis two months since our wedding and you have yet to tell me everything that King Robert said to you when he pulled you inside the chapel. You were with him a long time. Was he truly that angry over our marriage?”

“He wasn’t pleased,” Gavin admitted.

“Yet the king sat beside you on the dais at our wedding celebration. He smiled at me throughout the day, kissing me heartily and wishing me well. He even offered a toast to our good health and happiness, so somehow you managed to make amends.”

“I did.” Gavin cast her a teasing grin. “It will cost me dearly, but ’twas worth every piece of coin.”

Despite his joking manner, Fiona shuddered, pulling her fingers away from the springy hair on Gavin’s chest.
Pay? He had to pay the king for forgiveness so that they could marry?
“Oh, Gavin.”

“’Tis a hardship, I know, make no mistake about it,” he said with an exaggerated sigh. He placed his hand on the top of Fiona’s head and gently stroked her hair. She pressed into his touch, stretching like a kitten. “I’ve thought it over and have decided that ye’ll have to start working off yer debt to me as soon as possible. Since I, my good lady wife, intend to take yer bride price out in trade.”

Fiona felt the vibration of his chest when he laughed. She turned her head and he flashed a wicked grin. Fie, he was handsome when he smiled. She moved closer, rubbing her nose against his, then pulled back.

“I’ll have to start making payments another day, husband. We mustn’t stay abed so late,” she said forcefully, tossing back the bed linen. “The servants will gossip and then the entire castle knows our private business. Heavens, my face already turns ten different shades of red every time I go near the barracks. Why, just the other day I heard two of your soldiers wagering on how soon after our wedding day I will bear the fruit of your prowess and quicken with child.”

Gavin sat up suddenly, nearly knocking her off the bed. “Tell me who dared to speak so disrespectfully and I’ll have them severely disciplined.”

Fiona placed her hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “There’s no need for punishment. If you disciplined every man who makes a bawdy jest, there would be none left to guard the castle walls.”

“Their words were hurtful,” Gavin said, his eyes blazing with concern. “I’ll not have any man cause ye pain, especially one that is pledged to serve ye.”

Feeling a sudden chill, Fiona pulled the bed linen around her, surprised at the vehemence in his tone. “I’ve endured far worse snipes from the women in this castle and lived to tell the tale. Besides, the men have a right to speculate about the heir to the earldom and the clan.”

“They already know the heir. Since I have no brothers”—Fiona frowned and Gavin hastily corrected himself—“no
legitimate
brothers, Duncan, as the eldest, will inherit my lands and title when I am gone.”

“What of your own child?”

Gavin knelt on the edge of the bed and grasped Fiona’s hand. “I know ye love Spencer as though he was yer own, and I too have come to think of him the same way. But he can never inherit my properties. Duncan is my cousin, the son of my father’s only brother. If fer any reason he cannae follow me as earl, it would be Aidan next and then Connor. The Earl of Kirkland must be a man of McLendon blood.”

“I didn’t know they were your cousins. Why did you never tell me?” Gavin shrugged and Fiona snuggled into the warmth of his chest. “I know that there are some members of the clan who will never fully accept me as your wife, but I was hoping they would feel differently about our child.”

Gavin stiffened. “They might have, but there’s no use wishing fer what can never be. We know a child of our own is an impossibility.”

“Why?”

“Oh, Fiona. Yer barren state was what persuaded me to accept yer scandalous offer to be my mistress in the first place. I’ll not lie and say it doesn’t pain me now, but it brought us together and therefore I cannae be angry.”

“Ah, yes, my inability to bear a child.” Fiona cleared her throat. It didn’t feel like the opportune moment to correct that very erroneous impression; then again, would there ever be a good time? “If memory serves, Gavin, I never specifically told you that I was barren. ’Twas an assumption you made because it suited your needs.”

Gavin squeezed her hand, his expression filled with uncertainty. “The evidence was telling. Ye were married ten years and never conceived.”

Fiona tried not to blush at such frankness. “I never carried a child because I very seldom slept with my husband.”

“I thought ye had a loving marriage?”

“We did. But it was a very different kind of love from the one we share.” Fiona dipped her chin self-consciously. It somehow seemed wrong to discuss her former husband with her current one, yet she wanted no misunderstandings between herself and Gavin. “Henry thought of me more as a daughter than a wife. He showered me with affection, but never passion.”

He swallowed hard. “Are ye telling me that ye might yet have our child?”

Fiona stared at the wonder and hope in his eyes and nearly burst into tears. Guilt gnawed at her heart, for she had kept the news from her beloved that would bring him great joy. Would he be angry? Or worse, feel betrayed by her silence? She pressed a hand against her still-flat belly as a shudder of uncertainty rolled through her.

“We will become parents sooner than you think, the good Lord be praised.”

Breath held, Fiona waited for Gavin’s reaction. He looked shocked for a moment and then he blurted out, “We’ve only been married a few months.”

“Aye. And we’ve spent most of that time in bed.”

“Bloody hell!” Gavin ran a visibly shaking hand through his hair. “Are ye telling me that ye’re with child?”

Fiona nodded vigorously. “All the signs are present. I thought my overset emotions were the reasons for my strange symptoms, but they have persisted. And I’ve missed my courses for the second month, and the smell of freshly baked bread in the morning makes my stomach ache and . . . Gavin, put me down!”

Ignoring her plea, Gavin lifted Fiona in his arms and spun her around in a wide circle. The look on his face was indescribable—shock, awe, and wonder.

“’Tis a miracle,” he yelled.

“Hardly,” Fiona replied as she struggled to control her queasy stomach. “You know, I’ve heard that some men coddle their wives when they learn they are expecting a child instead of tossing them about the room like a rag doll.”

Her words stopped him cold. He set her gently back on her feet, then ran his hand down her side, placing his palm against her belly. “Is something amiss? Tell me.”

“I’m fine and so is the babe. And we shall remain so as long as you promise never to spin me like that again.”

“I promise, my love.”

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it respectfully, solemnly. They drew closer, and then at the exact same moment broke into luminous grins. Words were unnecessary; their expressions said it all.

Fiona could feel the ache of emotions creeping into the back of her throat. Her sight went hazy for an instant, but was then suddenly brought sharply into focus.

Gavin. Her beloved. This man who held her heart from the moment she witnessed his strength and kindness was the one she wanted, now and forever. A vision shimmered in her mind of a peaceful sun-drenched morning and life filled with endless possibilities.

Their life.

 

“Are we getting very close, Mother?” the child asked, punctuating his question with an exaggerated sigh.

“We are but ten minutes nearer to our destination than the last time ye asked that very question, Angus,” the earl answered in a stern voice. “And I can assure ye, the answer will be exactly the same when ye pose it to yer mother again, ten minutes hence.”

Fiona tamped down her weariness and smiled patiently at her six-year-old son. They had been traveling for nearly two weeks and the initial excitement of going on a grand adventure had long since faded for Angus, and his four-year-old sister, Colleen. Only baby Andrew endured the long days without fuss; then again, he rode—well, mostly slept—in the comfort of a cushioned cart, his nurse by his side.

“Once we ride to the top of that hill, Arundel will be within our sights,” Fiona said, smiling as she adjusted her reins.

Bored with being confined in the cart with his youngest sibling, Angus was now riding with Connor, while Colleen was held in the protective circle of her father’s arms. Fiona had hoped this change would make the journey more tolerable for her children. Alas, the novelty of this arrangement had worn off within the hour and the pair were alternatingly asking the same question with exhausting regularity:
Are we there yet?

“Are we truly that close to our journey’s end?” Gavin whispered, pulling his mount beside Fiona. “Or are ye just saying that to buy us a few moments of peace?”

“Both,” she answered with a wider smile. “The trees are taller and fuller than I remember, but I’d recognize these landmarks in my sleep.”

“England.” Gavin shook his head. “I still cannae believe I’ve brought my entire family across the border.”

“When we agreed to undertake this journey to visit Spencer, you were the one who bellyached the loudest about being separated from the children for so long. Besides, Spencer would be terribly hurt if they did not come with us,” Fiona replied.

“I insisted they be included because I knew we wouldn’t make it out of Scotland without them. I even bet Duncan that we’d get no farther than three miles before ye’d have me turning back to collect them,” Gavin countered with a wry grin.

Fiona laughed. Her husband knew her all too well. Yet the miracle of having whole and healthy children was something that neither of them took for granted. To be blessed with three was a joy beyond their hopes, and while he’d never admit it, Gavin doted and spoiled them even more than Fiona.

“We’ve reached the top of the hill, Mother!” Angus shouted. “The castle is up ahead.”

“I want to see,” Colleen exclaimed. “Lift me up high, Papa.”

Gavin obliged his squirming daughter. Fiona also lifted herself, straining her neck and then finally catching a glimpse of her former home. Memories flooded into her mind, along with a pleasant, tender feeling. She had been happy living here, first as a girl and later as a young bride.

“I cannot believe we are about to be reunited with Spencer,” Fiona said, her eyes welling with tears for the child she had not seen in over a year.

“I, too, am anxious to see him, but I’ll be happiest at finally having a private moment with ye,” Gavin declared, settling a protesting Colleen back in the saddle. “I find our sleeping arrangements less than ideal and our tent far too crowded at night.”

The smoldering look he cast at her caused Fiona’s heart to flutter and her skin to tingle. Aye, privacy would be welcome, though by morning there was often at least one child sleeping in their bed.

“We’ve been spotted,” Connor announced, circling back to ride beside Gavin.

The sound of squealing metal chains was clearly heard as the drawbridge slowly lowered. The people toiling in the fields ceased their work and started running to the castle gates.

“Is all as ye remember?” Gavin asked.

“Yes. No. Everything looks smaller, especially compared to our holdings.” Fiona lifted her arm and shaded the sun from her eyes. “I worried that a drought would harm the yield, but the crops are growing tall and straight,” she observed. “My son has done well.”

“I never doubted Spencer’s ability,” Gavin confessed. “To first take the castle and then to hold it.”

Fiona had shared Gavin’s confidence, but a mother’s worry had kept her on her knees in prayer when Spencer had gone to retake his birthright, leading a small army of retainers. The siege and subsequent battle had been accomplished with minimal losses, and the people had welcomed him back with surprising loyalty.

Word of their arrival spread rapidly through the village and it seemed as though everyone had stopped what they were doing to watch them. Mouths dropped, tools were put aside, tasks abandoned. Suddenly, one of the women cried out.

“Lady Fiona? Is it really you?”

“Bertha!” Fiona answered, pleased to discover a familiar face among the crowd. “I’m so happy to be back.”

“Why is the lady crying, Mama?” Colleen asked. “Did she hurt her finger?”

The little girl held up her own bandaged thumb. Ever since she had somehow wedged it between two rocks a few days ago, Colleen associated any sign of tears with a bruised finger.

“No, dearest, the lady is fine,” Fiona replied, near tears herself. “She’s crying because she is surprised to see me.”

Gavin swooped down and kissed his daughter’s bandaged finger and she giggled. The distraction worked like a charm and thankfully there were enough new and exciting things going on around her to successfully garner the little girl’s attention.

While she loved her daughter more than words could say, Fiona was the first to admit that once Colleen set her mind to asking questions, she was relentless. A trait of tenacity she shared with her father.

“Oh, my lady, we never thought we’d see you again,” Bertha said, placing her gnarled hands reverently on Fiona’s stirrup. “First Lord Spencer came and now you have returned to us. ’Tis truly a day to give thanks.”

The crowd surrounding them all murmured in agreement. Fiona glanced down at the beaming faces, recognizing many. Some were too thin and the clothes they wore were threadbare, but most looked healthy. More importantly, they were smiling.

Fiona smiled back. In all these years, she had never forgotten the people who had been left behind. She had prayed for their safety and comfort and was rewarded to see her prayers had been answered.

“They do realize that ye’re only here for a visit,” Gavin muttered.

“Worried, my lord?” Fiona asked with a saucy grin, but her attention was soon diverted by the sight of a man hurrying across the lowered drawbridge. He was tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair hanging past his shoulders, his gait revealing a limp—

“Spencer!” Fiona practically vaulted from her horse, landing on her feet in an awkward and undignified manner. Arms outstretched, she began running, not caring one wit that she was a countess, a matron, a woman of propriety.

They met in the middle of the drawbridge, their bodies nearly colliding. “We weren’t expecting ye until next week,” Spencer exclaimed.

“The weather has been better than we hoped, so we rode each day until nightfall,” Fiona said, hugging him tighter, absorbing the love and joy this moment brought. “Now, let me have a good look at you.”

Obligingly, Spencer pulled back and Fiona drank in the sight of him like someone denied water for a fortnight. She framed his face between her hands and leaned closer. His cheeks were thinner, his beard fuller. There was a scar over his left eyebrow and a small chip out of his front tooth. He looked so mature and manly that she nearly started crying, but was saved that embarrassment by the arrival of Gavin and the children.

Still, Fiona started sniffling as Spencer embraced the earl before turning his attention to the children. Angus hurled himself at Spencer and was rewarded with a toss up in the air. Colleen was momentarily shy, hiding behind Fiona’s skirts until she saw her brother being lifted and twirled in the air. Then she was at Spencer’s side as quick as a flash, clamoring for attention.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Not about to be outdone by his pesky younger sister, Angus hoisted himself up Spencer’s back. With both youngsters dangling off him, the newly appointed Baron of Arundel walked slowly into the courtyard.

Fiona’s eyes darted in ten different directions as she took in her surroundings. She noticed the kitchen garden had not been planted and the stables needed to be whitewashed.

Gavin leaned down and whispered in her ear. “This is Spencer’s home, not yers. Cease making notations in yer mind about things ye want to change.”

Fiona shrugged and batted her eyes innocently, but Gavin wasn’t fooled. She already had several improvements in mind that she wanted to speak to Spencer about, but apparently that would have to wait until she was alone with her son.

“Sir George awaits you in the hall,” Spencer said. “He would have come to the courtyard, but he suffered an injury to his leg on the hunt this morning and needs to rest it.”

“Is he badly hurt?” Fiona asked with concern.

“’Twas a deep gash, but I made certain it was properly stitched and dressed. I daresay the sight of ye will hasten Sir George’s healing, Mother.”

Fiona nodded. Seeing that loyal knight was the final piece to a perfect homecoming. Yet before she stepped inside the keep, Fiona gathered her family around her to savor this perfect moment of happiness.

Gavin stood on one side, Spencer, Angus, and Colleen on the other, and her youngest, Andrew, lay contentedly in her arms. The most precious beings in her life all together in one place, even if only for a brief time. It was enough, nay, more than enough.

Never in her wildest imaginings would Fiona have believed her desperate journey into Scotland seeking justice those many years ago would have yielded such bounty, would have resulted in such fulfillment and delight.

For if she had known, she just might have left sooner.