Chapter 18
The morning of the deadline arrived, and Rose was thoroughly exhausted from working endlessly over the past two days with Fiona.
They had planned out and assessed the practicality of their proposal and sought the best way to ensure it could be done.
They worked together to gather an inventory of their surplus supplies and available tinctures and remedies, making more of whatever Fiona deemed absolutely necessary.
Rose could hardly walk without her spine drooping; the need for rest was so strong.
In all the chaos, Rose had done her best to speak with Dominik and provide regular updates.
They were nearly ready to host the gate opening.
Whenever they spoke in private, Dominik did not hold back his happiness with the idea.
It was good to see him like that once more, but she could not deny the worry that plagued her. Why was the council being so stern with their Laird? They’d clearly imposed some strict demands on him, and Rose only wondered what they could be.
Moreover, it had nearly slipped her mind what day it was. But as she returned to her chambers, the sun having long since departed and the keep quiet and still, Rose remembered that Dominik would come to her this evening—to claim her at last.
Breathe, Rose. Breathe.
She shook as she entered her room, from nerves and excitement, and exhaustion. Rose couldn’t pinpoint which was stronger than the others, either. It was all a swirl of emotion and sensation, and she wondered if all brides felt similarly when they too consummated their marriages.
A tradition of nerves and allure, indeed.
Rose began to free herself of the outer coverings she wore, placing them in the receptacle for washing come morning.
Her apron, the shawl she wore to keep her shoulders warm, her shoes, which were thoroughly broken in now and felt incredible when they came off.
She shed it all, feeling slightly more like herself, and then she heard it.
Knock, knock, knock.
He was there. Dominik had come to her chambers, and this was the moment she’d both tried to force from her mind and thought of constantly. Walking to the door, Rose unlatched it and pulled it open, staring up into the vibrant green of Dominik’s eyes.
“May I come in?”
He didn’t need to ask. He was the Laird, and the fact that he was already being kind, allowing her to set the pace, did not go without notice. Rose nodded, stepping back and permitting the Laird into her chambers before shutting them up inside the room, bolting the door.
“I brought a bit of wine. Perhaps ye’d like to have a glass with me?”
Rose relaxed a hair, her shoulders falling further away from her ears. “Thank you. I would love that.”
Dominik walked to the small table in her room. His waistcoat was gone and his general appearance stripped down and simple. It was something to see him in just his shirt, the thin fabric lying gracefully against his muscular body, and Rose swallowed, heat burning in her cheeks.
As her husband sat down, he pulled the cork from the bottle he’d brought and produced two small metal cups that had been hidden by his hand and arm. Rose chuckled lightly, smiling as she took a seat.
“Did you steal those from the kitchen? Eilidh would not approve.”
“I dinnae steal them…” Dominik squinted at Rose until the line of his mouth broke into a smile. “…I borrowed them without asking.”
They both laughed, and Dominik poured the lovely purple-red liquid into the cups. Rose took hers when it was handed to her, taking a sip and enjoying the way it warmed her, making the scream of her heartbeat in her ears a little less all-encompassing.
“Ye did a fine thing organizing the weekly exchange of supplies, Rose. I ken that ye’re facing new challenges being the wife of a Scottish Laird, but ye have risen to the occasion.”
Dominik seemed so much more at ease now that they were alone and nowhere near the prying eyes of his councilmen.
It was similar to the occasion where his friends had visited and the gathering where he first formally introduced her.
It was as if, without the pressing of their gazes and the ever-present duties that weighed heavily on a Laird, Dominik could be more of himself, instead of the image he needed to project.
Rose could relate to that.
“I thank you, Dominik.” His name felt sinful on her tongue as they sat alone in her chambers, drinking wine, so near the moment when she would finally give herself to him.
“I do hope that you and the clan itself can see that I care deeply about my responsibilities as Lady. I want to serve as best I can. Truly.”
“I see it, lass.” Dominik sighed, taking another sip of his wine before setting the cup down on the table and meeting her stare hard. “It is loyalty and honor in action. Ye have done much for the people in just a short time. I…I have to admit that I may have doubted ye, but I daenae doubt ye now.”
Rose felt the burn in her eyes as tears prickled to the surface.
She blinked quickly, ushering them away.
Still, this was what she had needed to hear: that she was upholding her duty, her vows, and to the letter of her personal values.
Dominik was an intriguing, occasionally confusing, man, but it was clear that he took his responsibility as Laird extremely seriously.
She admired that dedication, and more so, she admired the way he could see a situation from any angle, using new tactics to handle a new issue.
He was not stuck firmly where tradition planted him. At least when it came to what was best for the clan. Rose was unsure if the same flexibility would apply to her.
Still, Rose was too trapped in her thoughts, and she shook her head with a smile, sipping at her wine to dull the sting of her nerves.
“Ye look quite lovely this evening, lass.”
Blinking, Rose looked up from her wine, feeling the heat surge in her cheeks.
They had arrived then. This was truly going to happen, and she had to admit to herself—in part because she knew that it would make the moment better—that she did want this.
Rose wanted to be with her husband. The memory of their kiss, the way he’d grinned at her during their dance.
It had all consumed her, and like a pot rumbling over a brilliant fire, Rose was prepared to let this passion boil over.
“Thank you, Dominik.” Again, she spoke his name, enjoying the way it felt on her tongue. “You’re quite the image of a proud Laird yourself.”
He chuckled low, a soft, almost sinister sound for the way Dominik’s eyes darkened as he gazed at her.
Rose’s heart stuttered in her chest, her breathing becoming shallow and quick.
The fire had not grown in the hearth, and yet she was ablaze, remembering the feeling of her husband’s lips on her own, the way his hand found her waist.
Dominik stood from the table, slow and deliberate, and then he rounded the wooden surface until he stood before her, extending his hand.
Rose looked down at it, admiring the considerable breadth of his palm, the clear labor he’d done with his fingers for several years of his life.
In the quiet of her chambers, Rose took his offered hand, and Dominik pulled her out of her seat.
Her chest came to rest against Dominik’s, and she could feel the echo of his hurried heartbeat there, so similar to her own. As Rose tilted her head back to look at him, Dominik held her stare with his, those vibrant, verdant green irises the color of the Scottish fields after the rain.
As if nature itself were responding to them, thunder rumbled low beyond her room, followed shortly by a flare of lightning that lit up the space in a flash.
Another crack of thunder, intense but not frightening, sounded around them.
Rose released a shuddering breath as Dominik pulled her all the closer.
The storm between them had finally reached its peak, and the clouds would pour down their rain, soaking all that they were.
“I would kiss ye now, lass.” Dominik reached for her cheek, his touch delicate, even as she could see the desire in his eyes that he fought so hard to maintain control of. “I would claim ye at last as me wife.”
“Yes,” the word escaped her on a breath, and Rose was dimly aware of how her stare softened, her eyelids becoming heavy.
With that, Dominik took her chin, lifting it high as he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss was chaste at first, a gentle touch of their skin. In moments, however, he wrapped his arm around her waist, hauling Rose closer, and their kiss deepened, passion stirring between them like glowing embers.
Dominik’s tongue swept across the seam of her lips, seeking invitation, and Rose, without any hesitation at all, let him in.
The taste of him was enough to send her mind spinning, and she felt that deep stirring within her, that part of her that silently called out for more.
Her arms came around his neck, and Rose let out the tiniest moan against his mouth.
With a devilish chuckle, Dominik pulled back slightly, enough to rest his forehead on hers and smile. He reached for her face, stroking his thumb across the flesh of her cheek.
“So eager already? And where is that shy lass? She would be shocked by this one standing before me.”
Rose’s skin flamed, embarrassment lancing through her as pinpoint as a knife. But she did not wish for Dominik to stop. If anything, his words only heightened the growing need filling her, stirring her blood in a way nothing and no one ever had.
Pushing up on her tiptoes, Rose found a bravery she had no clue she possessed. But she wanted that touch, that warmth, and she brushed her lips against Dominik’s, seeking out more even as he grinned and shifted, playing coy with her.