Highland Courage (Highland Brides) (20 page)

She reached up, putting her hands on his shoulders to begin her own tender exploration, but he grabbed them and, trapping them with one hand over her head, he whispered huskily, “Nay, lass, not this time. This is for ye.”

“But Tadhg—”

“Nay. Be still.” He captured her mouth with his to quiet her protest while his free hand continued to explore her body. Soon he left her mouth trailing kisses down her throat and to her breasts, and she gave a throaty moan. He let go of her hands but whispered, “Leave them there, don’t move.” He slipped his hands down her body to her hips as he trailed kisses down her belly.

When he reached the soft curls covering her womanhood she gasped and made to push his head away. “Tadhg, ye can’t…”

“Aye, I can,” he said with a chuckle. Grabbing her hands again, he moved them to where they had rested above her head. “I said be still and don’t move. Ye will like this.” He returned to the exploration of her body with his lips. He moved ever lower, sliding his hands under her buttocks as his tongue slipped between her moist folds.

She momentarily stiffened in shock but relaxed as his tongue caressed her. It felt oh so good—so soft and gentle. Too gentle. She arched against him, wanting more.

He chuckled. “Ye see, I was right. Ye do like it.”

“Aye, I do,” she whispered breathlessly. When it became too much, she begged, “Please, Tadhg, I can take no more.” Of their own accord, her hands found his shoulders, and she tried to pull him up.

“I can deny ye nothing, sweetling,” he murmured, and trailing kisses back up her body, captured her mouth again as he buried himself within her. She could taste her own salty essence on his lips as she rose to meet him. Still shrouded in the darkness of the bedclothes they moved together as one, giving and taking pleasure from each other until her climax overcame her. She could feel her muscles contracting around him as he too found his release.

Panting, she lay her head back against the pillows, pulled the covers back from their heads, and said, “Oh, Tadhg, ye don’t know what ye do to me.”

Moving beside her and capturing her in his arms, he answered, “My sweet lass, it is no more than ye do to me.”

As she lay there, she remembered the profound sense of being loved that she experienced the previous evening. She would give him the gift of the words. “Tadhg?”

“Mmm.”

“I love ye.”

“Oh, Mairead, I love ye too. More than I ever thought possible.”

~ * ~

The feast of Epiphany was, if possible, more sumptuous than the Christmas feast. The great hall was crowded and the atmosphere joyous. To commemorate the visit of the Magi to the Christ child, Tadhg gave gifts of coin to his clansmen. The music and laughter became livelier and more raucous as the hour grew later. Exhausted from dancing, Mairead stood with Tadhg near one of the hearths, taking it all in.

She was genuinely pleased as Jock approached with one hand held behind his back. “Jock, I am so happy ye were able to come for the feast tonight.”

The old man smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling merrily, and he gave a little bow. “Good evening, my lady, Laird. Aye, ‘tis a wonderful feast, to be sure.”

“I’m glad ye are enjoying yourself, Jock,” Tadhg answered.

“Oh I am, I am,” He nodded his head but kept his hand behind him.

A hint of a smile hovered around Tadhg’s lips. “What’s that ye have there, behind your back, Jock?”

“Ah, Laird, ‘tis nothing but a bit of kindling that I thought Lady Matheson might want back.”

Mairead was confused for a moment until the kind old man pulled his hand from behind his back, handing her a recorder. “Ye fixed it?”

“Lass, it was nearly beyond fixing, but I was able to save the mouth piece and the piece on the end. See, there is the wee wren. The bit in the middle is new. I also took the liberty of adding something to your grand-da’s design. If ye look among the vines near the wren, ye will see I added a sword. It is to remind ye that ye may be a little bird, but now ye are now under the protection of the Mathesons.”

Mairead lovingly turned the instrument over in her hands, both touched and amazed. She had never expected to see it again. She lifted it to her lips and began to play. The timbre of the instrument had changed, but the sound was still beautiful. As she played the people near her grew silent, turning to listen. The silence spread out from her like a wave, replaced by the tune she played. Even the minstrels stilled their instruments as the melody washed across the room. Lost in the music, she was completely unaware of the hush that fell. When she finished playing the air, the hall resounded with the sounds of the clan’s approval.

Mairead blushed but smiled in appreciation. “Thank ye, Jock.” She leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Ye have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Lass, it can’t mean more to ye than ye mean to us.”

It became evident to Mairead that she had experienced her own personal epiphany during the Christmas season. After living with shame and doubting herself for years, rather suddenly she finally believed she was worthy of love and respect.

Sixteen

Mairead’s newfound self-confidence may not have been immediately evident to everyone, but the changes were very clear to Tadhg. She seemed embarrassed less often, and she offered her opinion more readily. However, what pleased him most was her laughter. It dawned on him that he had heard far too little of it until then.

One afternoon he climbed the steps to the keep. The sounds of his very angry steward met him before he reached the doors to the great hall. Quickening his step, he rushed in to find Oren, purple with rage. The focus of his ire was Ian’s youngest son, Duff. In the middle of the uproar, his sweet, demure Mairead sat on the floor, laughing hysterically, covered with mud and puppies. He stopped inside the door for a moment to watch.

“Duff, what in the name of all that’s holy do ye mean bringing that lot of mongrels in here?” demanded Oren. “Look at what they’ve done. There is mud everywhere. My lady, here, let me help ye. God’s teeth, lad, get those mangy beasts off her.”

Duff, bless him, was trying but every time he pulled one off, another took its place. “My lady, I’m sorry. I thought ye might like them. I didn’t think about them being a bit muddy. My lady, if ye stop laughing, maybe they will stop licking ye.” In his effort to corral the puppies, Duff slipped on the muddy rushes and fell on top of Mairead and the puppies.

Mairead laughed even harder at this. Oren grabbed Duff by the neck of his
léine
and pulled him off. “I ought to—”

“Nay, Oren, don’t,” Mairead managed to say between fits of laughter. “Let him go, he meant no harm.”

“My lady, he never means any harm, and yet trouble follows him closer than his shadow.”

Tadhg decided it was time to step in. Although he wanted desperately to laugh, he frowned and adopted his best
I’m the laird and I’m not happy
voice. “What is going on here?” He shooed puppies off his giggling wife and helped her to her feet, giving her a sly wink.

Clearly misunderstanding whom the laird intended to be stern with, Duff jumped to Lady Mairead’s defense. “Laird, it isn’t Lady Matheson’s fault, it’s mine. She didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry, Laird, I found these puppies, and I thought she might like to see them.”

Found them?
“Where did ye find these puppies? Surely not in the stables? Are these Heck’s puppies, from his best hunters?” Tadhg grabbed two of the wiggling creatures who, having been pulled off Mairead looked suspiciously like they were seeking a good spot to relieve themselves.

“Lad, yer in for it now if ye have swiped Heck’s puppies,” warned Oren.

“Nay, Oren, he didn’t steal them. He just wanted me to see them, and I do love puppies.” Mairead brushed her clothes in a vain attempt to undo some of the damage.

Oren scowled. “Look at this mess. Your da will be livid when he hears about this, Duff.”

Duff looked scared and on the edge of tears, but Mairead stepped in. “Duff, lad, I loved seeing the puppies, and it was kind of ye to think of showing them to me. But we have made a bit of a mess. How about ye and I gather up this lot and take them back to their mama in the stable. Then we’ll tidy up the mess we made. Your da can’t be too angry with ye if we do that.”

Oren looked askance. “The mess ye made? My lady, ye had no part in it.”

Mairead smiled warmly as she picked up a pair of puppies. “Oren, do ye not remember being a wee lad? Can ye not see the humor in this?”

Oren’s mouth twitched. “Aye, well. I suppose. But next time, lad, maybe ye’ll consider taking yer lady to see the puppies rather than allowing them to lay waste to the great hall.”

Tadhg chuckled. “I’ll help ye with the puppies.” He picked up one more, Mairead held her two, and Duff carried the last one as they walked out of the hall and toward the stables. “How did ye get them all into the hall, lad?”

“They followed me.”

Tadhg stopped walking and looked at the lad incredulously, “They followed ye all the way from the stables?” Mairead started laughing again.

“Aye, they did, Laird. I just dropped bits of bread and they followed me.”

Tadhg rolled his eyes, and his demure little wife practically snorted with laughter. He didn’t think he would ever tire of that joyful sound. As far as he was concerned, Duff could bring muddy puppies into the keep every day if this was the reward.

~ * ~

All vestiges of the nervous, tense lass he married seemed to have disappeared, that is, until just before Easter. They received word Rowan’s wedding to Eara Fraser would be held at Duncurra, in May, two days after Roodmas.

“Duncurra? Not Carraigile?” she asked Tadhg when he gave her the news at the midday meal. Noticing her furrowed brow, Tadhg said, “Sweetling, if ye were hoping for a visit with your family at Carraigile, ye needn’t wait until May. If the weather holds, perhaps we can visit at Easter.”

“Nay, that isn’t it. I mean, I would love to visit Carraigile, I am just surprised the wedding will be at Duncurra.”

“King David has asked Fingal MacIan to help stabilize Clan MacLennan so Rowan has become a permanent member of Laird MacIan’s guard.”

“I see.” She broke off a piece of bread and chewed on it. Her tension was palpable.

When Mairead withdrew, pushing her for an explanation never worked, so he let the subject drop for the moment. When the meal was finished, he left the great hall long enough to arrange an escort and for Hamish to continue the afternoon training without him. When he returned to the hall, she was helping clear the tables. He grabbed her from behind, giving her a kiss behind the ear. The servants grinned, and he was treated to the sound of her giggle. “Let’s go for a ride.” He walked toward the door, pulling her at his side.

“Why are we going for a ride?”

“Because I want to talk with ye, and I am afraid if we went to our chambers, talking isn’t what we would do.” He gave her a roguish wink, enjoying her responsive blush.

When they reached the stables, four guardsmen were mounted, waiting for them. The stable master had Tadhg’s horse saddled but Mairead’s palfrey was not to be seen. “I thought ye said
we
were going for a ride.”

“
We
are. Ye’ll ride with me.” Then leaning forward so only she could hear, he whispered, “If I am spending the afternoon with ye but we can’t be in our bed, I don’t want ye any farther away than my lap.” He laughed, watching her blush an even darker shade as he lifted her into the saddle. He mounted behind her, pulling her against him. After wrapping an arm around her waist, they set out riding to the rolling hills of the open heath west of Cnocreidh. When he slowed his mount, the guardsmen fell back a discrete distance.

He stopped near a large flat rock on top of a small bluff. Dismounting, he lifted her to the ground as well. “I have always liked this spot. It’s wild and open—and very private.”

“It’s lovely,” she agreed.

He led her to the rock and spread a plaid for them to sit on.

“Now tell me what has ye upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

“Aye, ye are. Ye became tense the moment I told ye about Rowan’s wedding plans.”

“I was just surprised, that’s all. I thought the wedding would be at Carraigile.”

“Ye said that, but I know ye well enough by now to know the difference between ‘surprised’ and ‘worried.’ Ye don’t become tense and taciturn when ye are surprised.”

“I’m sure my da isn’t happy about Rowan staying at Duncurra.”

“Aye, he probably isn’t, but I’m fairly sure your da’s opinion isn’t what’s bothering ye, either.”

Mairead sighed and stared off across the open moor for a moment before answering. “Rowan is marrying Eara Fraser.”

“Aye, but that is old news.”

“I assumed the wedding would be at Carraigile. I knew there I would be surrounded by my family and clan—I would be, well…safe.”

“Sweetling, ye will be safe wherever the wedding is. Ye will be with me.”

“Aye, but what if—what if…”

“What if the lads who attacked ye are among the guests?”

“Aye,” she whispered.

“Mairead, I have sworn to ye I will protect ye. Ye will never be alone. It is likely I will be with ye the entire time, but if perchance I cannot be, at least two of my guardsmen will always be at your side. If ye see one of the men who attacked ye, ye will tell me and I will handle it.”

“Aye, I know ye will.”

“Do ye?”

“Aye. It’s just—I can’t explain, really. I know ye will protect me, but what if something happens and ye can’t? I’m a coward, I know I am—”

“Mairead, stop. I understand what ye are saying, but ye are not a coward. Those men violated ye, they hurt ye, and ye were little more than a child at the time. Even though they didn’t rape ye in the strictest sense of the word, that doesn’t make their actions any less cruel or wrong. Ye have every right to feel afraid of them. Ye should be cautious, but caution doesn’t make ye a coward. Ye are brave in so many ways, but ye are smart too. Ye are smart enough to know that while ye have an inner strength to rival any warrior’s, ye are but a slip of a lass. Ye believe if something terrible happened and ye ever had to protect yourself, ye wouldn’t be able to.”