Her Highland Temptation: Scottish Forbidden Love Romance (Highlanders of Cadney Book 12)

Chapter 23

Daemon looked out over the crowded hall, filled with men and women of varying ages and stations. He had to admit, Lyla and Alyn had done a splendid job decorating. The flowers were elegantly arranged, and the draping banners brought to mind femininity, without being too overdone. The food looked delicious, and they’d found some very good wine.

And the ribbons – it was astounding how many ribbons they’d managed to produce. But somehow, every woman there, from Lyla to the youngest lass, had a ribbon. Even the female servants wore one.

That was another thing they’d decided on. For tonight, none of the female serving lasses or ladies would be working. The cooks would be off as soon as the food was finished, and for the rest of the evening, it would be the boys and the men who served the women.

But first, he was expected to give a speech. For all that Lyla and Alyn had planned the event, he was the one who’d proposed it, and they were determined to have him start the festivities with a speech.

He spotted a familiar face at a seat near the door. Rose had come, with her husband and their new bairn. The sight of them reaffirmed his decision, and made the knots in his belly ease. He hated speaking in front of large numbers of people, but it was surely easier than what women did during childbirth.

He rose to his feet, and Alyn rang a bell to call for silence. Daemon looked out over the assemblage. It was mostly women, and lasses on the verge of womanhood, but there were enough men in the crowd that the ladies would have a decent choice of dancing partners when the time came. He knew Ryan and Cai had made an effort to see that the off-duty guards also came and took a turn – not that many of them had been hard to convince, when there was a night of revelry and a promise of whisky being offered.

Daemon took a deep breath, and let his gaze linger on Rose and her babe a moment longer before he began to speak. “Ye all ken why we’re gathered here taenight – tae celebrate the lives and efforts o’ women everywhere. I’ve come tae realize, that we dinnae give our women credit enough fer their strength and their courage. Too often, we speak o’ men’s great deeds, and dinnae think o’ what women must go through in bringing those heroes intae the world. And I think we men sometimes forget that women must be strong, fer without a mother’s guidance – without a mother’s existence – there’d nae be any of us at all!”

There was some scattered laughter, and one bold lass whistled at him from the back. Daemon allowed himself a small smile. “When I first suggested this feast, one o’ me friends asked why it was necessary, fer women didnae go tae battle, or anything like that. I told him he was wrong, fer ye see, I’ve seen what it takes fer a child tae be born. I didnae ken, until recently, what it meant fer a woman tae bring a bairn intae the world, but now I dae, and all I can say is this: ladies, ye have me heartfelt respect fer the task, fer certain sure I’d never want tae try it meself.”

More laughter, and some cheers. Daemon waited, then lifted his wine glass. “A toast tae every woman, here and away, fer all ye’ve done in keeping alive and well the clans and children o’ Scotland!”

This time, the cheering was a roar of sound that bid fair to deafen him. Daemon stood his ground and drank deeply of his cup. The wine was sweeter than he liked, but it was palatable, and for tonight, he would drink it without complaint. Then he sat, and the feast was served.

It was different from the usual festivities, where there might be venison or boar or some other large game animal. Instead, the courses revolved around smaller animals, and farmyard creatures, such as women might trap or raise and butcher. The flavorings tended more toward the subtle or the sweet, but it was all delicious nonetheless, and Daemon found himself enjoying the feast.

It helped that he had Lyla sitting at his side, in one of the two positions of honor for the evening. They’d not seen much of each other since the meeting in the library. Both of them were busy with various duties, and Daemon had to admit he’d missed her. He’d been half-tempted to sneak into her bedchambers, but hadn’t wanted to risk being found, not when he still had to speak to her father.

After the feast, the floor was cleared for dancing. A group of musicians set up at one wall. Daemon looked up as Lyla stood and turned to him. “Me laird, will ye dae me the honor o’ granting me this dance?”

For a moment, he was afraid he’d have to defer in favor of Alyn, since she was his ward and his cousin. But Alyn had already turned to Ryan, and the two of them were moving to the floor. He smiled as he rose from his seat. “Aye. ‘Twould be me honor tae dance with ye, Lady Lyla.”

Together, the two of them made their way to a clear space near the middle of the floor. The first dance was a couples dance, and Daemon pulled Lyla close to him, until their bodies were only an inch or so apart. The warmth of her in his arms was enough to make him relax and smile as they flowed into the opening steps of the dance.

Lyla blushed as he guided her across the floor. “Are we nae dancing a little bit tae close fer propriety?”

Daemon smirked. “I dinnae care, since I have ye in me arms.”

* * *

Lyla stared up at Daemon’s face. It was more relaxed than she’d ever seen it, a small, smug smile playing across his handsome features as they danced together. Despite the fact that she knew their closeness was causing rumors to sweep the hall, she couldn’t find it in herself to pull away.

In fact, the longer they danced, the less inclined she was to do anything of the sort. A familiar heat was building in her veins, the warmth of him seeming to go straight to her core.

The first dance turned into the second, then the third. At the end of the third dance, Daemon pulled back slightly from the floor. “Ye can continue dancing if ye want, but I need tae take a break.” He tilted his head, and Lyla followed the movement until she was looking down.

The reason Daemon needed a break was very clearly defined against his kilt. Lyla felt a blush suffuse her face, and with it, a small thrill of excitement. As potentially embarrassing as the situation was, she couldn’t help feeling desire as well. “Nae, I think a break is a welcome idea. In fact, perhaps we could take a stroll around the keep, tae cool down some. ‘Tis warm in here.”

Daemon nodded, and offered her his arm. Together, the two of them left the hall and moved into the cooler air of the corridor. As soon as they were out of sight, Daemon swept her into his arms, his face buried in her hair. “I want tae make love tae ye.”

Lyla couldn’t deny him, not when she wanted the same thing. Of course, she wasn’t about to make love to him in the corridor, where anyone might see them. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Can ye take me tae me rooms?”

“Aye.” Daemon’s voice was rough with desire as he started walking again. His arms were firm around her as they traversed the halls, and Lyla giggled with relief and delight as he used a shortcut to reach the family wing and her quarters.

Lyla freed an arm to open the door, and Daemon carried her inside. No sooner was the door shut, than he gently set her on her feet and latched it. Only then did he turn back to her and claim her mouth in a searing kiss.

Sashes were dispensed with and belts tossed side as they continued kissing. The strings of her bodice were swiftly undone under his insistent hands, while her own were under his shirt, running over the muscles of his abdomen as heat and desire swept over them both.

One of Daemon’s hands pulled the bodice of her dress down to free her breasts, and then his hand was cupping her, teasing the sensitive skin at her nipples until she was gasping in reaction. One hand held her close, while the other drifted down to the waistband of her skirt and slid beneath it, his skillful fingers teasing the damp curls that adorned her sex.

Lyla arched into his hand with a soft cry. She moved one of her own hands to cup his stiffening manhood through the fabric of his kilt. Daemon groaned, and his mouth fastened on hers, firm and demanding. His hand slid lower, between her legs, and he stroked her firmly but gently, and Lyla felt her knees go weak.

The two of them were turning toward the bed, and Lyla was reaching to remove Daemon’s kilt, when a sudden pounding on her door made the two of them jump apart. A second later, Lyla was scrambling for her clothes in a panic as the last voice she expected came through the door. “Lyla? Are ye there? Answer me!”

God above, what is me faither doing here? And now o’ all times!