Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
E lsie could hardly believe what she was hearing. Looking from Keane to her father and back again, she gawked at the two men in astonishment.
“This is madness,” she cried.
“Quiet, woman,” her father spat. “Stick tae what lasses ken. It’s all ye’re good fer.”
Something flashed beside her, and a second later, Keane grabbed her father’s tunic. Yanking him forward, their faces now only inches apart, Keane said, “I have told ye many times nae tae speak tae me wife in such a manner. Next time, I’ll nae use me words.”
Laird Munro only sneered. “Save yer energy fer the battlefield, son. Ye’re going tae need it.”
Twisting his body out of Keane’s grip, the man turned on his heels and stormed out.
For a long moment, a heavy silence filled the room. Keane still glared after the laird, while Elsie could only look worriedly up at him. When he eventually turned to face her, his harsh scowl crumpled.
“Dinnae worry, little one,” he said, stepping towards her and placing his hands gently on her shoulders. “All will be well.”
“Ye are a strong warrior, Keane. I ken that, fer I have seen ye fight. But me faither is strong, too. And besides,” her gaze fell to his stomach, “ye are nae yet fully healed. What if…”
“I’m nae letting ye go, Elsie. I have found ye, and I’m never losing ye. Nae now. Nae ever.”
“It’s nae about that,” she paused. “Of course, I dinnae want tae lose ye either. But more so, I dinnae want tae see ye injured again. I cannae. It was bad enough the last time. I cannae, Keane,” she sobbed. “I just cannae. I’m scared.”
He pulled her into his chest and wrapped his arms firmly around her, holding her closely to him. “Ye dinnae have tae worry, little one. He willnae defeat me. I promise ye that.”
Half an hour later, Keane and her father faced each other at the back of the castle. Laird Munro’s men stood on one side, while Elsie, Iseabail, Owen, and Alisdair stood on the other. Behind them, a crowd gathered, made up of guards, servants, and members of the council, as well as others.
Iseabail stood at Elsie’s left, the women holding onto each other, while Alisdair stood to Elsie’s right. If he was in any way worried about what was going to happen, he didn’t show it. He stood tall with confidence, his face expressionless.
When the mediator, one of the council members, dropped a rag to the ground, the two men commenced. At first, their steps were cautious, clearly trying to weigh the other up. Her father might well be twenty years older than Keane, but he was still a prolific warrior.
There were a few tentative strikes, the clanging metal of their swords echoing around the gathered crowd. But soon enough, they fell into a flow, one striking while the other defended, until the roles were changed. Back and forth they went, grunting and panting with the effort.
A few times, Iseabail and Elsie gasped, squeezing each other’s arms in terror, for it looked like Laird Munro might have the upper hand. He caught Keane on the upper arm, and the lower leg. But Keane came back strong. The men battled for some time, both of them now looking tired. The blows came slower, as did their advances. Her father stepped forward and missed his footing, causing him to stumble. The crowd gasped as he fell forward onto the ground. Keane used the opportunity to move swiftly. A second later, he towered above him with his sword at Laird Munro’s throat.
“Yield, or I swear, I will strike ye down here in front o’ yer only daughter,” Keane spat.
Immediately, her father dropped his sword and raised his hands in surrender. “I yield,” he panted.
“Och, thank god,” Iseabail cried.
Elsie would like to have said the same, but she was too relieved to speak. That did not stop the crowd about her, however, as a great roar and applause came from all who had gathered behind her.
Even as much as Keane detested the man, Elsie was surprised when he offered the laird his hand to assist him to his feet. When the celebration had calmed down, the men faced each other.
“And now, ye will honor yer agreement,” Keane said. “Ye will leave and nae come back unless Elsie wants tae see ye. And mak’ certain Laird Gunn never darkens these glens.”
Laird Munro was angry and frustrated that he had been outdone, but nodded curtly. “Fine. Have it yer way. I ask only one thing o’ ye.”
“What?” Keane snarled.
A strange expression crossed her father’s face. “Me men and I have travelled far. I ask that we are allowed tae rest here fer a little while, afore we mak’ our return journey.”
Keane glanced over at Elsie; his eyebrows raised questioningly. She could hardly believe he wanted her to make the decision, but quickly, she nodded.
“Fine,” Keane replied. “Ye and yer men can stay fer a short while, and then, ye can be on yer way.”
Laird Munro nodded, and then walked over to his men. Keane turned towards Elsie who was already making her way over to him. He dropped his sword at the exact same time she threw her arms around him.
“Och, God. I dinnae think I have ever been so terrified,” she breathed into his chest.
“I told ye, little one. I’m wasnae going tae lose ye.”
A second later, Iseabail, Owen and Alisdair joined them.
“He wasnae an easy opponent, even with his age,” Owen said.
“Indeed, he wasnae,” Keane nodded. “But it is over now. Finally, we will be rid o’ him.”
“Ye should get those injuries looked at,” Alisdair said, nodding to the cuts he had sustained.
Keane shrugged. “Och, they’re just scratches.”
“Ye’ll dae as ye’re damned well told,” Iseabail piped up forcefully. “Come on. Let’s get ye inside and tend tae them.”
Just as the group was about to head to the castle, Laird Munro approached Elsie. While the others halted, he took her to the side.
“I’m disappointed in ye, child. I can hardly believe ye took the side o’ this man over yer own faither. ‘Tis clear tae me now that I nae longer have a daughter anymore.”
Perhaps, had he said those words to her before now, Elsie might have been pained, even devastated. But after all that had occurred, she now had an understanding of what it felt like to be adored and protected. It was that fact that made her realize that her father had never truly loved her. Somewhere deep inside of her, she felt bolstered by the love she felt for Keane, and, finding the courage to tell her father how she really felt, she glared at him.
“Then naething is any different, is it?” she retorted. “I was never good enough fer ye. In fact, I have never had a faither. Now, more so than ever. When ye leave here, I willnae grieve ye’re going, fer ye have never given me any reason tae grieve ye.”
The laird’s mouth fell open, but Elsie did not wait for his reply. Instead, she spun on her heels and rejoined the others. Her heart skipped a beat when she noted Keane’s proud smile. Wrapping his arms around her shoulder, he gazed down at her.
“Good fer ye, little one. Good fer ye.”
After a celebratory drink in the drawing room, Keane and Elsie retired to his bedchamber. While he was opposed to all the fussing, Elsie was determined to tend to his wounds, and Iseabail only backed her up.
“Ye’re outnumbered, me friend,” Owen had chuckled. “Ye might as well give in. It’s easier.”
Having little choice, though not overly enamored by being pressured into it, Keane had finally relented. He now sat in a chair beside the fire in his bedchamber, waiting upon the maids to bring water for a bath that Elsie had ordered.
“Now,” she said, taking a bowl of water and a cloth. “Let me tak’ a look at those wounds.”
“Will ye stop fussing, lass? I’m fine.”
“Listen,” she said firmly, looking intently into his eyes. “I have just been forced tae watch ye battle with the man I once called me faither. It was terrifying and heartbreaking in equal measures. The least ye can dae is let me tend tae yer injuries.”
Keane’s eyes softened then, as though understanding what it had been like for her. “All right, little one,” he said gently.
The truth was, he had no idea what it had been like. As she dipped the cloth into the water and wiped away the dried blood on his leg, it was the first time she was really able to examine her feelings.
As cruel and dreadful as he had been during her lifetime, Roland had still been a father to her. She had, for the most part, respected him as a man. Indeed, he had not been loving or caring. But then, she had never experienced those things before, and thus, had had nothing to compare it with.
It was only since her affection for Keane, and having those emotions reciprocated, that Elsie truly found out what she was missing. Still, that did not mean she desired her father to die. And thus, watching the two men who had made such an impact in her life battling one another, had been torturous.
“It cannae have been easy fer ye, Elsie.”
Her eyes flew up to his in confusion, until the immediate realization hit her.
“Will there ever be a time that ye’re nae in me head?”
Keane smiled and shrugged. “Only when I cannae touch ye. But then, I dinnae want tae think o’ such a time.”
Elsie smiled softly back and nodded. “Me neither.” She sighed. “Besides, he got what he deserved.”
Keane shook his head. “Nay. He didnae. But at least now, he will leave ye alone.”
Soon after that, the maids arrived with hot water, which they poured into the tub. Once they were away, Elsie locked the door. Now she could leave Keane to bathe himself. But as she was making her way over to the adjoining door to retire to her own room, she heard his voice.
“Are ye nae going tae stay?” His smile was full of mischief. “I am injured, remember? I might need yer help.”
Elsie giggled then, and turned back towards him. “Fine. Get undressed, and I will prepare the towels.”
“Och, nay. I think ye need tae be far closer than that,” he said, approaching her slowly.
Elsie stilled as he tugged at the cords of her corset. With the strings undone, he let it drop to the floor. The rest of her clothes followed after he had peeled them off her. Standing back, he took a second to drink her in, taking a slow deep breath and releasing it as he did so.
“Ye are so very beautiful, little one,” he said, before leading her to the tub.
Holding onto Keane’s hand, Elsie placed one foot in at a time before lowering herself into the water. She couldn’t help but continue to gaze at him as he removed his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers.
Climbing into the tub behind her, Keane wrapped his legs around hers. After that, he began trickling water over her hair. Once her long locks were washed, he pulled her to lie back on his chest, took the cloth, and bathed her body.
Elsie was aroused by the whole experience. She felt her body dancing at his touch as he lingered over her breasts and her hardened nipples. But as much as she wanted his hands on her, he continued, dragging the cloth down and over her stomach.
She was not the only one aroused though, for she could feel his growing manhood pressing into the base of her spine. She felt his hips moving, but it was only a slight movement. Enough friction to feed the desire he was feeling.
As he continued to take her arms, one by one, and drag the cloth over them, Elsie smiled to herself. Nowhere in her imagination could she have conjured up this scenario. In fact, over those first few days together, she thought him the most brutal beast she had ever met. But as her skin reacted to his touch, the truth became crystal clear. Behind his facade, Keane Mackay was indeed, the tenderest man she had ever met.
The cloth disappeared, and Elsie felt his fingers caress the inside of her thigh. It sent a shiver across her whole body. While his fingers continued to travel up to the apex of her thighs, he leaned his head forward, teasing her ear with his tongue. It was an intense sensation. As aroused as she felt, her body seemed to melt into his, as though they were melding into one person.
Feeling his other hand brush against her nipple, she sucked in a breath of delight. His fingers now caressed the tiny nub that brought her so much pleasure. Once more, she experienced the building tension he had elicited from her before.
Panting now as he expertly teased her body into a euphoric state, Elsie found herself climbing, higher and higher. This was no longer new to her, and thus, it seemed to happen even faster this time. She gripped the side of the bathtub, giving herself to him completely. Moans left her lips, which only seemed to arouse him more, for she felt his hard manhood press into her back.
“I love tae hear ye, little one. I love tae feel ye beneath me touch,” he growled.
But Elsie was too far gone to care. Feeling her body reach the very edge of ecstasy, she cried out as she felt the familiar explosion under his caress.
Collapsing against him, every part of her floating and feeling utterly relaxed, she let the feeling carry her. Keane wrapped his arms around her and held her to his body. She lay there for the longest time, until her awareness returned to the solid mass pressing into her from behind.
“Ye have brought me tae heights I never thought possible several times now,” she said, feeling a little nervous. “I want tae dae the same tae ye.”
Even as she spoke, she could feel her cheeks redden. She did want to please him, but talking about it embarrassed her.
“Is that right?” he growled, his voice thick with desire.
Elsie nodded, the back of her head rubbing against his chest. With water splashing about them, she turned around and looked at him. “Show me what tae dae.”
His gaze held hers for the longest moment. The evident excitement of her request danced in his eyes. Without a word, he took hold of her wrist and pulled her hand toward him. Not once did he take his eyes off her as he placed her fingers around his thick, hard manhood.
Elsie gasped at the feel of it, for it was long, and solid. With her cheeks now blazing, she let him guide her hand up and down. Soft, continuous strokes. The action only seemed to make his member harder, which Elsie thought was nearly impossible. But as she continued, she watched the reaction on Keane’s face. His lips parted as he panted, his eyes softened, and his entire face relaxed.
He no longer held her hand, for Elsie now knew what to do. Remembering what he did when he was inside her, she moved her hand a little faster. All the way down, and all the way back again.
“Och, little one,” he growled, his head falling back. “Ye dinnae ken what ye dae tae me.”
Feeling pleased that she was doing it right, she continued, her stroke steady. It delighted her that she was able to elicit the same ecstasy from him as he had gifted to her. She moved a little faster, and felt heat rise again in the apex of her thighs.
Suddenly, Keane’s hand grabbed hers and he held her tight.
“Ye’re going tae mak’ me explode,” he breathed, looking intently at her.
“Is that nae what I’m supposed tae be daeing?”
“I have a better idea.”
He then stood from the tub, his huge shaft protruding from his body, and stepped out of the water. Grabbing a linen towel from a nearby chair, he held out a hand to her and led her to the rug before the hearth.
Once lying upon it, he tenderly kissed her, but it was clear he was in desperate need of her. Swiftly positioning himself over her, he slipped himself inside.
“Oh,” Elsie gasped, relishing the sensation as she gripped his shoulders.
Keane moaned loudly. “Och, God, Elsie.”
Moving his hips, he slid back and forth. She could sense he was already on the edge. While their previous lovemaking had taken a little time, she could feel the desperation in him as he thrust into her, over and over and over.
Just as she was certain he would empty himself in her, for every muscle in his body seemed to tense, Keane pulled away from her. Grabbing the nearby towel, he let out a hissing roar as he exploded into the cloth.
As before, Elsie felt conflicted. This was the second time he had not stayed with her until the end. The second time he had broken the connection between them. Everything was always perfect, until he got to the very end. She couldn’t understand it, and she was simply too afraid to ask. Maybe there was something wrong with her.
Nay. That makes nay sense. It has something tae dae with him.
She just didn’t know what that something was.
Afterwards, Keane had gathered soft blankets and wrapped them both up beside the fire. Elsie’s exhaustion overtook her, for he watched her eyes droop closed as she lay there against his chest. As her breathing became softer, he gazed down at her, watching her chest rise and fall in soft, slow motions. It was at that moment that he realized he had never felt so content. He was there, with his arms wrapped protectively around his wife, feeling a great sense of peace as the fire crackled just a few feet away.
He sighed. I could die happy on this day.
Indeed, ye couldnae. Yer life has only just begun. A life filled with love, and care and tenderness. This woman has melted yer heart, brought ye peace, and given ye purpose. There’ll be nay dying fer many years tae come.
Keane smiled at his heart’s delightful banter. Of course, it was right. He was going to spend the rest of his life loving this woman. Loving her, protecting her, and giving her every desire she wished for.
After some time, he lifted her in his arms. Moving across the room, he placed her in his bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She turned onto her side, but a second later, she was restful again. For a long time, he stood there gazing down at her. It was as though he wanted to commit every line of her face to memory. As if he was worried that if he left her for a moment, he would forget how truly beautiful she was.
There then rose within him a compulsion to bind them together with something physical. It was customary in the Highlands for lovers to exchange keepsakes. Something to always remind them of each other. He had already carved her name on the stone for the hearth. Now, he wanted something a little more discreet. Something that only they knew about. A token no other could see.
Leaving Elsie to sleep peacefully, he made his way to his study. There he found a small pestle. In it, he placed charcoal, which he ground up into a fine powder. When that was done, he added a small drop of oil. Mixing the two until they became a paste, he then lifted a quill and made his way back to his bedchamber.
While Elsie slept, he took the ink and quill and gently wrote his initials on her wrist. She moaned slightly, causing him to pause. But when she fell back into full slumber, he continued on. When he had finished, he started on his own wrist, writing her initials in the same place on his own body. It felt appropriately rugged and meaningful, given its natural earthy quality. It was also easily removed, and thus felt like a whispered promise. Fleeting, yet powerful.
When he was finished, Keane too, felt a wave of sleepiness wash over him. Slipping into the bed beside her, he pulled her into his arms, and fell easily to sleep.
The following morning, Keane woke to Elsie lying there, gazing at him, a soft smile dancing on her lips.
“Hello,” she said softly.
“Hello,” he replied, smiling back at her.
“Something happened tae me in the night, and it’s worrisome,” she said, her brow deepening.
Keane looked concerned. “What? What happened tae ye?”
“Well.” She lifted her wrist. “It appears that a little fairy came and wrote some strange markings on me.”
Keane grinned then, and Elsie giggled.
He then lifted his own wrist and feigned surprise. “Och, nay. Look. They got me too. What dae ye think it means?”
Elsie shrugged. “I think it means they need tae find themselves some parchment.”
This sent Keane into a deep chuckle, his laughter booming across the bedchamber. “I will be certain tae leave some out fer them in the night.”
“I think we should. Though, I am quite impressed with their skills. I wonder if they realize these are yer initials. ‘Tis very strange.” She grinned.
He lowered his face to hers and brushed his lips across her mouth. “Ye mean everything tae me, Elsie Mackay. I never want ye tae forget that.”
“How can I when ye have marked me so meaningfully?” she breathed back.
“Aye. I have marked ye, fer ye are mine, as I am yers.”