Highland Magic (27 page)

Dead silence met her words and then:
“Aye.”

Did her heart actually crack in two in that
moment? She felt the weight of his eyes on the back of her neck as
he stood up and paused briefly. Then he was gone, his footsteps
pounding against the stone floor as he stormed from the
chamber.

Branwenn leapt to her feet
and fled to the first place she could find for a bit of privacy:
the buttery. She broke down in truth then. Her heart wrenching so
harshly inside her chest, she couldn’t take a breath. She pressed
both hands over her gaping mouth as silent sobs formed, moving her
vocal cords up and down in her aching throat as a flood of tears
splashed over her cheeks, her lips, her chin, finally forming into
wet rivulets that streamed down her neck and dampened the front of
her chemise and gown. Her entire body quaked and her knees grew so
weak she crumpled to the ground and lay on her side with her hands
covering her face.
Callum
,
Callum
,
Callum
,
Callum
. How was she to live without
him now that he’d taken her very soul into his
possession?

* * *

Callum leaned against the wall just outside
the doorway of the great hall, his breathing harsh, his head thrown
back, and his eyes clamped tightly shut. Had he just made the worst
mistake of his life, or the best decision? Had she given him
falsehood or truth? His heart was screaming that he’d been wrong,
wrong, wrong and should go back in there right this minute, delay
not another second, go down on his knees and beg Branwenn to
forgive him for his lackwitted words. But, his mind would not
listen. For, what if he wed her and she turned out to be just as
Lara had been? Could he bear it? And what was more, was that the
sort of woman he wanted raising his daughter—having more bairns
with?

Nay, ‘twas not.

* * *

“
Branwenn!
” Maggie cried, falling to
her knees next to her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. “Whatever did
that scoundrel of a son of mine say to you to get you in such a
state as this? Tell me, and he will be made to fix it, I swear this
to you, lass.” Her own eyes misted in sympathetic tears as she
watched Branwenn’s body wracked with sorrowful sobs.

“H-he...w-we-ee-ee...are no
longer betrothed! He
hates
me!”

“Branwenn!” Maggie said,
shocked. “‘Tis the very last thing he feels for you, child. How can
you even think such a thing?” An angry gleam came into her eye.
“Tell me he did not actually
say
such to you! I will string him up by his toes,
the rascal!”

Branwenn, still lying on the floor, turned
her face away from Maggie’s view and hid her eyes in the crook of
her elbow. Her only answer was a shake of her head.

Maggie patted Branwenn’s back. “All will be
well, you shall see.”

* * *

Callum sat on a stool in the solar an hour
later looking from one to the other of the seven people—his
grandmother, mother, stepfather, two massive cousins, and
Branwenn’s brother-germane, as well as Robert—standing over him and
feeling like the defenseless prey to a sloth of hungry bears, with
first one batting at him, then the other, and all leaving with yet
another piece of his pride laid to waste. And, he admitted, his
suspicions as well.

“Callum, dear, ‘twas not as you believe at
all. Your mother and I inveigled that poor guard to pretend an
interest in Branwenn as a means of prodding you into doing what you
should have done the first time the two of you were together—told
her you loved her!” Lady Maclean chided.

“And I have no recollection of the lady ever
touching me,” Robert interjected before Callum had time to form a
retort. His eyes widened as the light of understanding dawned. “Ah!
Mean you when the page spilled a bit of the contents of my trencher
on my sleeve? When Branwenn did the ladylike thing and wiped it off
for her guest with a cloth?”

Callum gave him a sheepish look.

Robert howled. “Are you
insane? Truly. Are you? Because ‘twas clear to me from the moment I
began speaking with the lady this morn that her thoughts are never
far from you. Why, she must have asked me fifty questions about
you, just while we ate.” He began to count on his fingers as he
gave examples. “
‘How long have you known
Callum?’
,
‘What
was he like back then?’
,
‘Was he always so good with a
sword?’
,
‘...With
a lance?’
,
‘Did
he always hate to dance as he does now?’
”
He looked up with a huge grin on his face, and added, “And, my
favorite:
‘How many lasses has he
bedded?’
”

Everyone laughed but Callum. He only
squirmed.

“This one, I confess, I
gave a bit of a lie to her on—I said only your
wife
”—the whole company roared at
that one and Robert had to raise his voice to be heard above the
laughter—“since I was trying to aid your cause with the lady, not
ruin it, as you evidently believe.” He waited for the raucus sounds
of mirth to subside before continuing, “I have no interest in your
betrothed, Callum, and she certainly has none in me.”

“And,” Reys interjected, his arms crossed
over his chest, “forget not, I can easily take her home with me—an
idea I’m growing more fond of with each passing second of hearing
your driveling, I assure you—and have done with this contract that
I’m sure to be made to regret signing in any case when my princely
cousin learns of it.”

Callum leapt to his feet. “Nay, no need!” he
said as he plowed through his cousins and hurried to the door.
“She’s mine. I’m hers. No problem.” Now, to gain her forgiveness
and, if need be, convince her all over again of just that.

* * *

Callum found Branwenn
seated in the north bailey garden not many minutes after Robert’s
and Reys’s last words to him in the solar. He’d not taken the time
to fetch his cloak from his chamber, but, it seemed the need for it
was not so great, as the day had turned unseasonably warm for this
close to
Samhainn
.

He saw she was seated slightly sideways on
the stone bench with her head bowed a bit as she gazed at the frost
covered, now almost completely winter-brown garden to her left, her
hands loosely clasped, palms up, in her lap. Her dark brown cloak
was thrown back on either side, its edges draped over her shoulders
and the gown she wore was one of the old ones that his mother had
given her upon her arrival here. She’d changed since earlier. Why
she tended toward the looser garments, he had never quite figured
out, for ‘twas God’s truth, she could stop his heart with her
loveliness when she wore one of the form-fitting ones his
grandmother had had made for her. But, after his horrid behavior in
the face of another man giving her attention this morn, ‘twas no
doubt better that she not wear such enticements when there were
male guests about.

As if feeling his presence, she turned her
head and their eyes met across the last small distance between
them. In three strides, Callum was by her side. He dropped down to
his knees before her and took her hands in his. She resisted, but
then, as if deciding it mattered little one way or the other, she
relaxed and allowed the contact. Her eyes were like frozen violets
suspended in a crimson-rimmed flower bowl. Cold now, but proof that
once there had been fiery tears stinging them.

“I’m an idiot.”

She shrugged.

“You are perfect, pure, and I truly do not
deserve you.”

He watched her eyes shift from one to the
other of his own as if trying to see into his soul. Then she
nodded.

“I adore you. I want to be your husband. ‘Tis
truly my fondest desire, and has been since, I believe, the moment
I first met you outside the stables at the Maclean keep that day so
many moons ago now.”

With a cry, she threw herself into his arms,
her own wrapped tightly about his neck, and he fell backwards onto
the ground, taking her with him. He laughed and held her tight as
the vise around his heart snapped free, allowing the tormented
organ to once again beat with joy.

“I adore you, too,” she whispered happily
between kisses to his neck, his cheek, his ear.

He rolled her onto her back, her fur-lined
cloak cushioning her from the cold, hard ground, and settled
between her thighs, rucking the hem of her gown up on one side as
he did so before beginning a long, slow caress of her outer thigh
and hip. “Mmm...soft, just as I remembered.” He bent his head down
and kissed her, using his tongue and teeth to tease that lower lip
of hers that daily drove him mad for a taste and had only a few
hours past been the source of his jealous wrath.

After a moment, he left her mouth to enjoy
the sweet taste of her velvet-smooth neck. As he did so, he inched
his hand around to grasp her sweet, rounded bottom and press her
more snugly against his now painfully swollen arousal.

“Oh, Callum, it’s been so long since we”—she
drew in a sharp breath when his finger entered her feminine sheath
from behind as he rotated his hips to tease her clitoris—“oh,
Gaawd,” she groaned, arching her back.

Callum clamped his mouth over the turgid
nipple of her breast that showed through the material of her
clothing. He sucked hard a second before saying, “I want to strip
you naked right here, right now. I want to see the winter sun’s
rays light every inch of this luscious figure you hide from view. I
want to see you, Branwenn. Please, let me see this lovely body of
yours at last.”

Branwenn, her eyes clamped tightly shut as
she trembled on the verge of release at her lover’s skilled hand,
shook her head. “Nay, Callum, please. Not yet, I’m not ready.”

Callum’s hand was drenched with the proof of
that falsehood. “Oh, you are ready, my love, very ready.” He kissed
her sweet lips again before opening them wider by thrusting his
tongue deep several times, repeating the motion with the finger he
had inside her slick passage as he arched above her. In seconds,
she went rigid, her muffled cries vibrating against his teeth and
gums, and the walls of her canal clasping and unclasping his
love-dewed digit.

It shocked him a second later when his own
body jerked uncontrollably in sudden climax. “Branwenn!” Dazed and
still seeing black spots, he collapsed upon her now-limp form.

After another second, he rolled to his back
with his eyes shut against the sunlight, still reeling in a
release-induced haze. It took several minutes more for his
breathing to return to a more natural meter, but when it did, he
turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, resting his
cheek on his fist. He smiled as a wave of the most intense
tenderness he’d ever felt washed through him. Branwenn had dozed
off, her face now a serene mask of innocence and youth.

Why would she not allow him
to see her naked? It made no sense. She was so open in her sexual
curiosity, actually rather pleasingly adventurous for one with only
the experience he’d thus far given her. Hell, if it had not been
for that one time, their first time, when he’d lit a taper
afterward, he would never have even seen the one—lush, succulent,
full, tip-turned (like her eyes), rosy peaked,
with a freckle
—breast that had been
accidently revealed when the sheet drooped a bit before she covered
it.

Her eyes opened as he gazed upon her and they
were once again the color of crushed violets—as they were whenever
her emotions were high, he’d discovered. Touching his fingers
lightly to her brow, he moved the dampened dark locks to the side
before leaning down and placing a soft kiss on her mouth and then
repeated the action on her cheek. “Now, who is embarrassed, I
wonder? I look like a wee lad just out of swaddlings with this
stain on the front of my tunic.”

Her eyes wandered down to the offending wet
spot. “I could get you a new one?”

He grinned and quickly released the strings
of his damp braies—thankfully, he’d worn his long tunic this
day—saying, “Actually, that would be rather helpful,”—he scooted
both that undergarment and the hose attached off of his torso and
legs, flicking his shoes off at the same time—“as I have no desire
for either of your brothers to learn of this lover’s tryst we’ve
just enjoyed.” He wadded the material and tossed it over his
shoulder, then put his feet back inside his shoes, before rolling
to his side once more and propping his cheek on his raised fist
again.

Branwenn groaned and threw her hands over her
face. “Oh, Callum! We were going to wait until our wedding night!”
She turned her wrath-filled eyes upon him once more. “‘Tis all your
fault! Why can we not spend five minutes together without
doing”—she waved her hand in the air—“this?!”

Callum came closer to her
and dropped his arm over her waist. “Aye. ‘Tis my fault. For, you
see, you are much too enticing a creature, my sweet
fey Mai
, for one such as
I, a mere mortal, to resist your siren’s call.”

“Pardon? Did you just say
‘twas
my
fault?”

“Nay, I said ‘twas
my
fault.”

“How is that exactly? For, according to you,
I am enticing you, calling you, and you are only a mortal unable to
resist it. Somehow, tho’ ‘tis certainly a pretty speech, if you
hear it logically, it’s really your way of blaming me.”

Callum growled in frustration. “All right!
‘Tis all my fault because I’m a lecherous male and all I think
about when I’m with you is seeing you naked and fucking you—does
that satisfy your sense of justice now?”