Chapter Twenty-Two
Marion’s heart was full. The emotional turmoil of earlier had completely passed out of her the moment Alexander had returned looking content and relaxed. She was keenly aware that whatever the encounter with Thomas, it had ended in a manner that pleased him, and that was good enough for her.
Now in their chamber and stepping out of the bath, she scanned the gowns the maids had selected from her chests to choose which she would wear.
Spying the crimson brocade one she’d worn the day she first laid eyes on Alexander, she recalled how she had tried to hide her bosom.
With a grin, she wrapped herself in a robe and lifted it for better inspection.
Oh, her mother had been cheeky indeed. Inside the bodice was a modesty scarf built in which she could have used that day.
Was that part of what Alexander had noticed in her?
She’d had a sense from him that he wasn’t sure of her motivations in the beginning, and she couldn’t blame him.
Tonight, she would don this gown again and wear it so that all of her features were accentuated.
The maids entered the chamber a short time after to help fix her hair under a wimple and newly crafted gable hood that her mother had initially intended for her to wear that day. It would take some time to get used to it, but tradition was what it was.
Before long, she was fully dressed and ready to attend to her guests as Lady Campbell, Countess of Argyll, and she was pleased that she fully looked the part.
A knock at the door was followed by Alexander who had his clothes gathered and brought to one of the other chambers where there was a bath for him.
He was donned head to toe in black which was a color she was fast coming to love, especially on him. The sight of him took her breath away.
“I remember this gown,” he said with a growl as he moved to her and placed his hands on her waist. “But I don’t remember your breasts looking this delicious. Have you done something to them?” he asked with a devilish gleam in his eye and a sideways smile.
“Nay, my lord. I have merely allowed them to fill the gown as it was originally made.”
“You mean you purposefully altered the way it would fit for modesty’s sake that day?”
“Aye, I did.”
“And I am now very glad of it, for I and others may have made quite the fools of ourselves tripping over one another to speak with you.”
“Because of my breasts?” she asked, unable to withhold a light laugh.
“Aye, we are but men, my love. Sometimes, we are not as deep as you would wish us to be.”
She knew he was jesting, and he was certainly not like that, but she would concede there were others who were that shallow. In any case, she loved the way his eyes traveled over her body. If he kept that up, they would not make it to the feast at all. She smiled when he kissed the side of her neck.
“My lord, we have guests.”
“I don’t care about them,” he said as he nipped at her tender flesh just below her ear. “I only need a few minutes. Come here,” he said and turned her around then bent her over the bed.
Marion felt her skirts being lifted and a cool breeze on her backside as he exposed her fully and stroked her.
Her body was ready for him in an instant.
She moaned and a shifting of clothes was followed by him thrusting hard inside her.
Her fingers gripped the coverlet tightly as his hard, quick rhythm brought her higher and higher to what she knew would be a brilliant explosion.
Imagining the sight that would befall anyone who might enter had her smiling from ear to ear as she enjoyed the way his hands held her hips so tight and even the slapping way his legs hit hers when he drove himself deep within her.
“Oh God,” he said, and she felt him thicken and harden even more. The sensation set off her first orgasm, and by the time he was stiff and rocking behind her, she’d hit on her second.
Waves of delicious flickers washed over her as though tiny sparks shot through her veins. He held her for long moments and then slipped out of her and put her clothes back in place. When she stood, she swayed a little and he caught her in his arms and kissed her softly.
“Did you like that?” he asked.
“Aye,” she said. “I did not know we could be so quick as that if we wanted to.”
“We can do whatever we like,” he said. “And look,” he said as he drew her toward the mirror. “Not a hair out of place. No one will ever know but us.”
Well, her cheeks were flushed, but he was right.
Her gown showed not a wrinkle, and her hair wasn’t out of place, because it had been neatly wrapped up.
Nothing could compare to the feeling of his naked body pressing hard against hers, but this quick tumble and in that position was more than agreeable to her and she hoped it would be a regular occurrence.
“You have an evil look in your eye, wife,” he said.
“I was just thinking how fortunate I am to have such a virile husband.”
“That is because he has a wanton wife who is insatiable.”
She gasped and swatted his arm. “I am not wanton.”
He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her soundly on the lips. “You are wanton and I would not have you any other way.”
Marion cupped his face with her hands and kissed him back with all the love and joy she possessed for him. When she pulled back, she said, “I love you, Alexander Campbell, my black rider.”
Tilting his head, he asked, “Your black rider?”
“Aye. I recall the first moment I saw you atop your steed decked out head to foot in black with only your icy blue eyes visible under your helmet. I thought you were the most mesmerizing thing I had ever seen.”
“You never told me that,” he said and became a little quiet.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I recall when I first saw you as well, my exquisite wife. But I’m embarrassed for what I thought then.”
“Tell me, Alexander. We are husband and wife now and we shall have no secrets between us.”
“I was struck by you as well,” he said. “But I thought your parents and you were like all the others in attendance who were only there to snag a husband and did not care how that happened.”
“You were not wrong where my parents were concerned, well, mostly my mother.”
“But you were not like all the other ladies. I could see that once we met and have found our way of thinking to be so similar. I fell in love with you over and over these past weeks, but the moment that secured it was when you let wee Gordon play his trick on you.”
“Oh!” she said. “But he did get me with that one. I was not pretending.”
Alexander tilted his head back as a great sound of laughter erupted from him. “Oh, that’s even better. Now I love you even more for it.”
“Shall we have more stories from him this eve, do you think?” she asked, hoping that would be so. She could spend every evening from thereon listening to them. “And from wee Archie, too?”
“Aye, I think he will be hard pressed to restrain himself now he knows he has an audience and a fan.”
Alexander opened the chamber door and hoisted his elbow toward her. “Shall we greet our guests?”
“Aye, my love. We shall.”
They walked together toward the great hall, and as they drew closer, the sound of pleasant music and laughter filled the air.
Marion had never been so happy in her life, and she was convinced her husband shared that sentiment.
They met Jean and Alain just inside the hall near the hearth with a sheepish looking Thomas standing close by.
When he saw her, he walked immediately over to her.
“Lady Campbell,” he said. “I owe you the deepest apology for my earlier behavior. I want you to know that I sincerely do not wish to make you feel unwelcome or uneasy. My brother and I have talked, and I understand now how deeply I offended you. Will you please accept my apology?”
What could she say but to accept. Everything about the man was in stark opposition to his earlier behavior leaving her in no doubt of his sincerity.
“Aye, Thomas, I accept your apology and am pleased your brother and you have come to an arrangement that will no doubt aid you both.”
“My lady is very perceptive. I believe we may become friends in the future.”
“Perhaps,” she said and moved on to speak with Jean. She wasn’t sure if she’d go that far with him yet, but she could find it in her heart to forgive him for his transgression.
*
Alexander looked around the table at those he’d asked to be gathered for this evening’s feast. Others from the surrounding village would join them later, but for now he only wanted his family.
Thomas was unusually quiet, which was a blessing but also meant that he had taken their conversation seriously.
Jean and Alain had their heads bent together, talking quietly, and Marion was busy with little Archie who had insisted he sit by her.
She fit in perfectly with their family and into their lives.
It was as though she was always meant to be there carving out a future for them just as surely as she’d carved out a place in his heart.
The coming days and weeks would see them busy and preparing for harvest and stocking up their stores for the winter.
They’d always done well for themselves with their proximity to the loch, but he was keenly aware that others struggled.
He would see to it the spare pantries were filled as well so that none of his kin would go hungry.
“You are deep in thought,” his wife said beside him, urging him from his musings.
“I am thinking of the future,” he said.
She looked around the table and then back to him. “They will all require matches at some point.”
“I shall never marry,” Archie said. “The village lasses are icky.”
“You will not always think so, wee man,” Alexander said.
“I am a lass,” Marion said. “Do you think I’m icky?”
He blushed crimson and shook his head. It was clear that his little brother did in fact not consider his wife icky and might just probably have a wee crush on her instead.