Chapter Ten
CHAPTER TEN
Blackrock Castle
H e dreamed about moments like this.
Beneath him, Eventide’s eyes were closed, her red hair spread out over the wooden floor like a burst of flame. Her arms were up, over her head, and her full, soft breasts were bouncing every time their bodies came together.
Two months .
Two months of a betrothal to this woman he couldn’t get enough of. He wasn’t supposed to be in her bed yet because they weren’t officially married, but he was. He had been for about a month. That tender white skin that he feasted on, those magnificent breasts that he couldn’t keep his hands off. He’d tasted, touched, licked, or otherwise fondled every part of her body, and instead of it satisfying him, he just wanted more. He bedded her as much as he could, and he’d even done it when she was on her menses. He didn’t care.
He just wanted her.
This time was no different. Having been gone for the past two weeks in Edinburgh, he’d ridden through the gates of Blackrock this morning and was practically mauled by Eventide the moment he dismounted his horse. Fergus allowed them to have time some alone together in the solar, without any chaperones, and that was where they found themselves. Even now, as he thrust into her, he was a hairsbreadth away from spilling into her, and he didn’t want to—not yet, anyway—but as he watched her body move underneath him, he knew he couldn’t stop himself. He thrust again and again, feeling himself climaxing with the greatest of pleasure. When Eventide felt his throbbing organ inside her, she grasped his buttocks and held him against her, forcing the man to stay buried in her as he spent himself.
But Darien wasn’t finished with her. He wanted her to enjoy this as much as he did. Even after he finished, he remained embedded in her and moved his hands under her hips, holding her to him as he continued to thrust into her. Eventide’s body responded to him as it always did, the heat in her loins like liquid fire, growing in intensity.
A wildfire was raging.
Darien was measured and firm, and she gave herself up completely to him. He heard her swift pants and knew she was close to her release, so he shifted himself and put his fingers where their bodies were joined, probing her stiff little bud of pleasure. The moment he touched her, Eventide pealed a gasp that filled the chamber. Darien descended on her mouth quickly to muffle the sound, because her mother tended to linger outside the door and listen in on their conversations. He certainly didn’t want her to hear this.
Eventide had a climax like no other.
Powerful and long. When the tremors finally died down, Darien collapsed on top of her. They were lying on one of the hides on her father’s floor, the cleanest one they could find. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what they had to work with. Darien cradled her tightly, and she clung to him, running her hands over him, reacquainting herself with his body after their separation. When her hands moved to his face, he kissed her fingers before speaking.
“I dunna want tae wait anymore tae marry ye,” he whispered. “I want tae do it before I have tae return tae Edinburgh.”
She looked at him with concern. “When are ye returning?”
“I told Robbie I’d be back next month,” he said. “There are things happening that I must be part of, but I’m not going tae leave ye behind the next time I go, Evie. It nearly killed me to do it the last time.”
She shifted under him, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard floor, but the movement excited him. He was still buried in her body, so, semi-aroused, he began to move in her again, gently kissing her neck as he did so. Eventide wrapped her legs around his hips, wound her arms around his neck.
“My father wanted us to wait,” she murmured, groaning softly at the feel of him inside her. “It wouldna look good for me tae marry ye so soon after yer broken betrothal with my sister. Da thinks the church would frown on such a thing. Ye know he had tae discuss it with the priests in Inverness.”
Darien growled and rolled onto his back. With a gasp, Eventide ended up straddling him as he held her hips against his.
“The church has no reason tae protest our marriage,” he said, moving his hands from her hips to both breasts. “Yer sister lost all right tae a marriage when she ran off. I dunna see why we need to wait.”
“Because it makes us both look like fickle fools tae marry one another so soon after losing our respective betrothals,” she explained yet again, eyes closed as he toyed with her nipples. “If we wait, people will forget. The scandal willna be so fresh.”
Darien understood that, in theory, but his hot blood didn’t want to wait. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her deeply as she remained straddling him. But his mouth trailed away from her lips, moving to her neck and shoulder.
“Move, Evie,” he whispered. “Move on me, lass.”
She knew what he meant. Bracing her knees on the floor, Eventide did as he asked. Slowly, sensually, she rode his manhood, grinding her pelvis against his, feeling him growing increasingly hard within her. He was able to hold his stamina better this time, indulging in the feel and smell of her, letting his feed his senses. He’d missed her so much when he was away from her that he could hardly think for want of her. That was why he’d come to Blackrock, in fact. He’d been summoned to Edinburgh by Robert Stewart but was having such a difficult time concentrating that Stewart sent him to Blackrock and told him not to return until he’d married his lady.
And that was exactly what he planned to do.
But right now, he had her where he wanted her, and he slowed his pace with her the second time around. Eventide rode him until her legs grew tired, at which time he rolled her over again and she ended up underneath him. In little time, he spent himself for a second time in an hour, soaking up every moment of the experience.
Truly, it went beyond words sometimes.
“I love ye, Eventide Moriston,” he murmured, kissing her soft lips. “If ye dunna marry me soon, I’ll go mad.”
Eventide grinned, running her fingers through her impatient man’s hair. “We’ll talk tae my da today, my angel,” she said, kissing him. “I wouldna want ye tae lose what’s left of yer mind.”
Angel. She’d been calling him that for a while now because of his nickname, Darien an geal. The Gaelic word for “white” sounded a little like “gal,” and an geal when spoken sounded closely to “angel.” As she explained it, Darien was her angel.
And she was his.
“Ye’ll like Edinburgh,” he said. “And ye’ll have a house tae run. Not a large house, but enough of one.”
She smiled faintly. “I like the idea of that,” she said. “I’m a grown woman and I canna be submissive tae my mother in her own house for the rest of my life. I deserve my own.”
He kissed her one last time before pushing himself off her, rocking back on his heels as he pulled her into a sitting position.
“Ye do,” he said. Then he gestured at her clothes, in a pile a few feet away. “Get dressed. I plan on speaking tae yer father this very moment.”
With a smile, Eventide crawled over to collect her clothing as Darien grabbed his own. He’d been in mail and tunics and boots, which he’d had to stop in the heat of passion to tear from his body. As Eventide pulled her shift over her head, followed by the simple dress of pale blue that she wore, Darien had a bit more to do with hose, followed by breeches, followed by two tunics and a mail coat.
Eventide had to help him with the mail because it was cumbersome, so she quickly finished tying off the back of her dress before rushing to assist. She pulled and tugged to straighten him out, and when she came around front to make sure the mail was straight, he grabbed her by the waist and tickled her. Screaming with delight, and perhaps annoyance, she slapped his hands away and darted out of his reach.
“Come back here,” he told her. “I wasn’t finished with ye.”
She laughed softly as she pulled on her boots. “Not a chance, laddie,” she said, wagging a finger at him. “Ye have big fingers, and they hurt.”
“They dunna hurt.”
“They do!”
“Ye’re as whiny as a bairn.”
She cocked an eyebrow as she pulled her hair over her right shoulder and started to braid it. “Is that so?” she said. “Next time, I’ll dig my fingers intae yer ribs and see how ye like it.”
He shook his head as he tied off one of his boots. “Ye’d better not.”
“Why not?”
“Because the last time someone tickled me, it was Aurelius and I was about four years of age,” he said. “I pissed myself and Aurelius never let me forget it. I dunna want tae piss myself again in front of ye.”
Eventide burst into soft laughter. “I’m sure ye’ve outgrown that.”
“I dunna want tae tempt fate.”
Before she could reply, there was a pounding on the door. It startled Eventide, but Darien quickly pulled on his other boot.
“Who comes?” he demanded.
“’Tis me!” Fergus said. He rattled the door. “Why did ye bolt it? Open the door if ye know what’s good for ye!”
Darien looked at Eventide, who had her hand over her grinning mouth. Her hair was smoothed, her clothes on, but when they looked at the hide where they’d made love, there was a wet spot on it. Horrified, Eventide ran to it and tried to rub it out with her shoe while Darien went to the solar door.
“I’m coming,” he called back to Fergus, watching Eventide smooth over the wet spot. “Have patience, man.”
The evidence was gone, and he opened the door as Eventide went to sit in the chair near one of the small lancet windows, very casually, as if nothing was at all amiss. Or had been amiss. As if they hadn’t been doing naughty things on the solar floor. Fergus charged into the chamber, frowning.
“Why’d ye lock the door?” he asked Darien.
Darien gestured to Eventide. “To keep her from running out,” he said. “I’ve been trying tae convince her that we need tae wed before I return tae Edinburgh. Fergus, I canna stand leaving her one more time. I know ye’re concerned about what others will think if Evie and I wed so soon after Emelia and Luke ran away, but have pity on me. I love yer daughter and I want tae make her my wife. Will ye agree tae a marriage before I return next month?”
Fergus put his hands on his hips, irritated, as he looked between Eventide and Darien. “I told ye why I wanted ye tae wait,” he said. “Evie, did ye put him up tae this?”
Eventide shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “But I agree with him. There’s no reason for us tae wait any longer. We can have a priest’s blessing with just the family as witnesses. We dunna need tae make a big celebration out of it. All I need is Darien and nothing more.”
Fergus had heard this argument before. For the past two months, in fact. When Darien was here, he was harping on it so much that Fergus had to hide from him, but when it was just Eventide, the woman was more persistent than a gnat. He couldn’t shake her. Truthfully, he was hoping to hold the pair off because of the optics their wedding would project to everyone in the Highlands—humiliated by their respective marital partners running off together, they’d rebounded into each other and a rushed marriage. He’d spoken about it to Lares, who agreed, and to Mabel, who didn’t, and then to Athole, who didn’t care.
But Fergus cared.
For the first time in his life, he cared about something Eventide did.
In the two months that Emelia had been gone, the dynamics at Blackrock had changed. Fergus was no longer focused on his eldest daughter, the one who always had his full attention, and in the days since Emelia had fled, he’d had the chance to get to know his youngest.
The one always overshadowed by her sister.
It wasn’t that he didn’t know Eventide, because he did. She was his daughter, so, clearly, he knew her to a certain extent. But what he hadn’t known was how caring and thoughtful she was. He hadn’t known how bright she was, that she had a wicked sense of humor that made him grin from time to time. She had been more than willing to step in and take over her mother’s chatelaine duties because ever since Emelia’s flight, Athole had taken to her bed and refused to leave. She had decided that she simply didn’t care anymore, about anything, and spent her days locked up in her chamber.
Because of this, Eventide had been forced to assume her mother’s tasks, and she had taken to them naturally. She had been educated at Saint Mary’s church in Inverness, where the monks taught her to read and write and do her sums. Education was important to Fergus, and he’d made sure that both of his daughters had some level of education, although Emelia had never shown much aptitude for it. Eventide had, and since Emelia’s departure, Fergus had been reacquainted with a bright daughter he’d forgotten about.
The only daughter who hadn’t shamed him.
He realized that he had treated Eventide poorly because of his attention toward her sister. The past two months had seen him soften toward her considerably, and the relationship had strengthened. Because of this, he found himself increasingly willing to let her and Darien finally get married, because the truth was that there really was no reason to delay it any longer. His fears about the optics of the situation were probably unfounded, but he didn’t regret telling them to wait. Eventide and Darien had just suffered through a humiliating circumstance, and there was a part of Fergus that wanted to give the couple time to make sure their desire to marry wasn’t some vindictive or emotional reaction to the situation. From what he could see, it wasn’t either of those things. What Eventide and Darien felt for each other had nothing to do with Emelia or Luke.
It had everything to do with how they looked at each other and the joy in their eyes when they did so.
Even now, he could see it in their faces.
“Well,” Fergus finally said, scratching his neck, “Darien, yer mother seemed tae think there was no reason tae delay the marriage, but yer father agreed with me. Ye know that.”
Darien nodded. “I know,” he said. “And I understand the reasons behind asking us tae wait. Mayhap ye even wanted tae test our feelings toward one another, which is completely reasonable. But the truth is that I love yer daughter and every day that passes sees that love grow. I’ll not change my mind tomorrow or ever. But I do want tae call her my wife in the worst way possible.”
Fergus could see the longing in the man’s eyes, and he broke down into a faint smile. “I understand, lad,” he said. “Will ye take her tae yer English property, then? God help me, my daughter will bear an English title. Lady Lowmoor. The shame of it!”
He wasn’t serious, and both Darien and Eventide grinned at his dramatics. She went to her father and put her hand on his arm.
“Just dunna tell anyone,” she said. “Tell them the truth—that Darien has a townhome in Edinburgh and that’s where we live. Ye dunna have tae mention Wigton House.”
He grunted. “I want tae see this big house, Darien,” he said. “Is it big and grand enough for my daughter?”
Darien fought off a smile. “Twice the size of Blackrock,” he said. “It’s a manor home with its own chapel. And the chapel is quite large.”
Fergus was skeptical. “Ye willna raise yer children there?”
“I dunna know. I haven’t thought on it.”
“Then think ,” Fergus said, thumping himself on the head. “Ye want tae raise Scots loyal tae Scotland. If they’re born at Wigton House, they’ll only be confused.”
Darien cocked a dark eyebrow. “And if ye dunna let me marry yer daughter before I have tae return tae Edinburgh, ye may not have any grandchildren at all.”
The tides had turned, and Fergus cleared his throat unhappily. “True,” he said. Pausing, he lingered on his daughter and her hopeful expression for a moment. “If ye plan tae get married before the whelp ye’re marrying has tae return tae Edinburgh, then ye’d better send word tae Lady Mabel. If ye marry without her present, ye’ll never hear the end of it.”
Eventide beamed. “Do ye mean we can get married?”
“If I deny ye, ye’d just run off and do it anyway.”
With a squeal of delight, Eventide threw her arms around her father. Darien went to the man, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Thank you,” he said sincerely. “I’ll send a missive tae my parents immediately so they can be here when we take our vows.”
“How soon do ye think they can come?” Eventide asked, still holding her father. “Soon?”
Darien shrugged. “Knowing my mother, she’ll be on the road an hour after receiving the missive,” he said. “She willna miss it. But given that it takes a little time for the missive tae arrive and for them tae travel, I would say they can be here in a little more than a week.”
That seemed to fuel Eventide’s joy all over again, and she let out another shriek and kissed her father on the cheek. Letting the man go, she rushed to Darien, who pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. Fergus watched it all, softened by the sight of a young couple so very much in love.
“I suppose it had tae happen sometime,” he said. “I knew I couldna delay for too long, but I will admit that it’s been grand spending the days with ye, Evie. It makes me sorry I dinna do it when yer sister was still here. I should have paid more attention tae ye, and I’m sorry I dinna. Ye’re much more interesting than Emelia.”
Eventide smiled. “She’s much more vivacious than I am,” she said. “Da, I dunna hate her for occupying yer attention. She’s my sister and I could never hate her. I hope wherever she is that she’s at least happy. ’Twould be terrible to go through all of this trouble and not be happy.”
Fergus didn’t have much to say to that. He simply shrugged and glanced at Darien, who didn’t have much to say to it either. After all Emelia had done to her sister, Eventide still couldn’t bring herself to hate her.
That said a great deal for her heart.
“Well, now,” Fergus said, shifting the subject as he waved an impatient hand at Darien, “ye’d better get tae writing that missive tae yer parents. If we’re tae have a wedding, we need them here.”
“That’s very true,” Eventide said, already moving for her father’s big table with its vellum and writing kit. “Shall I write it for ye, my angel?”
Since she was already sitting down to write, grasping at a vellum sheet, Darien chuckled. “Go ahead,” he said. “I’ll find a messenger tae send it.”
Eventide beamed at him as she pulled the writing kit closer to her in preparation. Fergus leaned over the table.
“Make sure ye’ll tell them tae hurry,” he said. “And tell Lares tae bring barrels of drink with him. We’ll need it.”
Darien snorted, shaking his head at Fergus’ priorities for his wedding, before heading out of the chamber. Since he’d spent so much time at Blackrock over the past couple of months, he’d come to know Fergus’ men fairly well. He knew that there were a couple of young Highlanders who rode like the wind, and he intended to find at least one of them to deliver the missive.
It was a glorious day outside, not terribly cool, and the sun was bright. As he came out of the keep, he glanced up at the sky, watching some birds as they flocked toward the sea. His home, the Hydra, was also on a sea inlet, so he’d grown up smelling the salt and feeling the wind on his face. He didn’t get much of that in Edinburgh. It was something that fed his soul.
A soul that was whole these days.
He smiled when he thought of Eventide in her father’s solar, scratching away a missive to his mother. Mabel loved Eventide, and that meant the world to Darien. Given how selective his mother was when it came to women, he was elated that she was so warm and welcoming to Eventide.
Life couldn’t get any better.
“Darien!”
A shout caught his attention and he paused, turning to see Calum and Guthrie Munro heading in his direction. He grinned at the sight of the Munro brothers, who had become regular fixtures at Blackrock since the sacking of Moy Castle. In fact, it was the brothers who’d made sure Moy was manned and protected while Darien was in Edinburgh. He hadn’t realized they were at Blackrock when he returned this morning, but then again, he was only looking for Eventide.
Now, he had time for his friends.
“What are ye doing here?” he asked. “Ye’re supposed tae be at Moy.”
Calum smiled at the man he genuinely liked. “We were,” he said, quickly sobering. “But we received word from Foulis and had tae go home. My da isn’t well, Darien. The physic thinks he may not be long for this world.”
Darien’s expression was washed with sorrow. “I’m sorry for ye,” he said. “I dinna know he was ill.”
“It came on quickly.”
Darien could see that both brothers were struggling with their sorrow, and he reached out to grasp Guthrie’s arm, giving him a squeeze of support.
“I’ll send word tae my da,” he said. “He’ll want tae see old Padraig. And ye’ll tell Fergus now. He’ll probably rush over to Foulis today.”
Calum shook his head. “Not today,” he said. “It was a bad morning for my da. That’s why we left. Mayhap tomorrow will be better.”
“Will ye at least stay and feast with us?” Darien said. “Fergus has finally given permission for Evie and I tae be married right away, so I’d like ye tae celebrate that with us.”
Calum smiled weakly. “Of course we will,” he said. “Ye’ve got yerself a fine wife, Darien. I wish ye years of happiness.”
“Thank ye,” Darien said sincerely. “Now we’ve got tae find ye and Guthrie wives so our children can grow up together.”
The mood lightened as they talked about the children they would have, new generations that would defeat the English and make Scotland a strong and free country. Already, Calum was trying to negotiate a marriage between his future son and Darien’s future daughter, which had Darien demanding to see their accounts to determine if they were rich enough for his daughter. He was so caught up in the laughter of the conversation that he failed to see one of the men who manned the gates running for him. He only noticed when the man was practically on top of him, his voice full of panic.
“Darien!” the man said, grabbing his arm. “Ye must come!”
Darien didn’t take kindly to being grabbed, but he could hear the fear in the man’s voice. “Why?” he demanded. “What’s amiss?”
The man could only point to the gate, which was open. There were several men there, and that was all he could see, so he took off at a run with Calum and Guthrie behind him, all of them heading for the gate. Once they reached the open panels, the sea of men seemed to part and, finally, they could see what had the man so rattled.
A sight Darien never thought he’d see again.
Emelia had returned.