Chapter 30
CHAPTER THIRTY
The gates already stood open as they approached the castle entrance, iron-bound timbers raised high against the deep blue velvet of the evening sky.
Torches flared along the walls, their smoke curling upward, and the sound of hoofbeats echoed sharply off the cobblestones before fading into the courtyard as they rode in
Kenneth felt the events of the day settle into his bones the moment he swung down from his horse – the long hours in the saddle, the tension of vigilance, the lingering edge of violence that never quite left him after men rode out with flintlock and steel.
Then he caught sight of her.
Selene stood on the steps, framed by lamplight, Maureen at one side, Elsie at the other.
She was still, hands clasped before her, her gaze fixed on him as if she had been willing him into sight.
Something tight and knotted in his chest loosened all at once, leaving behind a warmth so sudden it all but robbed his breath.
Home, a traitorous part of him thought, was no longer the keep, not the land, but her above them all.
The men around him smelled as hard-ridden as they looked – sweat, leather, wet wool and the sharp, unmistakable tang of cattle that clung to them all.
Kenneth barely registered passing his reins to a groom.
Selene was already dashing down the stairs, her skirts floating over the stone, her face alight.
He didn’t pause to think about the state he was in or the mud on his boots, neither did he give a thought for who might be a witness to the impropriety of taking her in his arms for all to see.
He crossed the space between them in three strides as she descended to meet him.
“Me love,” was all he said before he wrapped her in his arms and lifted her clean off the ground as if she was no weight at all. She gasped, then laughed, the sound bright and unguarded as he turned once, twice, three times, the courtyard spinning around them.
“Kenneth,” she protested breathlessly, though her hands were already gripping his shoulders as if she intended to anchor herself there.
He kissed her anyway – a hard, unrepentant, plundering kiss born of the sheer relief of having her beneath his hands and the certainty that she belonged to him. Exactly as he was hers.
He well knew he was filthy, that he smelled of horse and sweat and cattle, but so lost was he in her, the thought barely flickered through his head.
If she noticed, she gave no sign. She merely sighed a tiny moan in her throat, wound her arms around him, tangling her fingers in his hair, and returned his passion without a moment’s hesitation.
Clearly, she was every bit as unconcerned about whoever might click their tongues in disapproval as he was.
That, more than anything, convinced him he had chosen right.
Behind them, Maureen made a sharp sound that might have been scandal or might have been delight. Elsie’s grin was unmistakable.
Reluctantly, Kenneth set Selene back on her feet, though his hands lingered at her waist. He rested his forehead briefly against hers, breathing in her scent of clean linen, a drift of lavender, and something softer beneath it that was Selene’s own fragrance.
Holding her, feeling her softness and warmth, steadied him in a way nothing else ever had.
“I’ll wash,” he said at last, regret threading his voice. “Before Maureen decides I’m a danger tae her floors.”
Maureen snorted. “Ye are.”
Kenneth huffed a quiet laugh and brushed his thumb along Selene’s cheek, committing the warmth of her skin to memory. “Let us meet in the solar,” he murmured. “I’ll nae be long.”
He turned away, barking orders to the men as they dispersed, though his attention remained on the steps behind him. He felt her eyes on his back as he strode up the stairs and entered the keep.
When he went to the solar later, washed and changed, the keep had settled into evening.
The room glowed with lamplight and candles and hearth fire, the air was warm and scented with broth and fresh bread.
Selene sat between Maureen and Elsie at the center table, her posture relaxed now, color in her cheeks.
When she looked up and met his gaze, something quiet and certain settled in him, easing the last remnants of the day’s strain.
They ate together, the scrape of spoons and low conversation filling the room. Callum joined them partway through, nodding to Kenneth, listening more than he spoke. Kenneth’s hand found Selene’s beneath the table almost without thought, her fingers fitting into his as though they belonged there.
Maureen noticed, of course. She noticed everything.
She leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing. “Right,” she said. “What have I missed while ye’ve all been sailing around the world and tramping about the countryside?”
Kenneth didn’t bother with evasion. “Selene and I are tae be married.”
For a heartbeat, the solar went utterly still. Then Maureen let out a laugh that rang off the stone walls.
“Married,” she repeated, already pushing back her chair. “Then we’ll have a proper celebration dinner. None of this quiet nonsense. Tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” Kenneth raised a brow. “That gives ye—”
“Plenty of time,” she cut in briskly. “If I can run a keep, I can manage a feast.”
Elsie clapped her hands, her eyes shining. “I’ll help. We’ll make it grand.”
Kenneth glanced at Selene, amusement and resignation tangling together. “I see I’m outnumbered.”
“Ye always were,” Maureen said smugly.
“So be it,” he conceded grudgingly, although there was warmth in his tone. “Tomorrow night.” His expression sobered. “I’ll see the priest in the morning and arrange the ceremony.”
The words sat heavy and right on his tongue. This was what he wished for. Marriage. Public, binding and to last for the remainder of his days on earth.
Later, as the candles burned lower and the conversation slowed, Selene leaned closer to him, her shoulder brushing his arm.
“I’ll remain in my own bedchamber tonight,” she said quietly. “I think it best I don’t visit you under the noses of my sister and yours. Not as I did at Castle Brochel.”
Kenneth groaned. “But ye’ll be next to mine.
Only the adjoining door separating us.” He studied her face, reading resolve there, and exhaled slowly.
Desire stirred immediately – unwelcome and entirely expected – but beneath it lay something steadier: respect for her wisdom and the consideration she had for the two younger lasses
Still, it caused him some anguish in a certain area of his wayward body.
“Ye test me patience,” he said honestly, though his mouth curved in a smile.
“We’ll be married in a few days,” she reminded him gently.
“A few very long days,” he replied. “It will try me sorely nae tae have ye beside me, keeping warm under the covers.” His fingers tightened briefly around hers. “But I dare say I’ll survive.”
Callum cleared his throat pointedly, and Kenneth turned back to the others.
“Call a meeting of the Clan Council tomorrow,” he told him. “They need tae hear of Aidan’s attack, our visit tae Castle Brochel, and Halvard MacLeod’s friendship.” His gaze flicked to Selene, his heartbeat jumping. “And I’ll seek their approval of me marriage.”
Callum nodded once. “I’ll see tae it.”
When the solar finally emptied, Kenneth escorted Selene through the quiet corridor, their footsteps echoing softly against the stone. The keep had settled into its nighttime hush – distant voices, the crackle of dying fires, the comforting solidity of walls that had stood for generations.
Her bedchamber lay beside Elsie’s, with his adjoining beyond it – far too close to comfort, the ache starting up in his groin. Dammit.
He stopped at her door, lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles, then her brow, then her mouth, gentle now, lingering, full of promise rather than urgency.
“Sleep well,” he murmured.
“You too.”
She slipped inside and closed the door softly behind her.
Before he turned toward his own chamber he hesitated outside the door, his thoughts straying unbidden to the night he had spent with Selene – to the way she had fitted so perfectly in his arms, the soft scent of her hair, the lingering taste of her kisses.
The temptation to turn the latch and enter her chamber burned through him, sharp and insistent.
His hand closed around the iron doorknob, his pulse quickening as desire urged him forward.
Yet reason prevailed. It was right to wait. Tomorrow he would speak before the Council, and soon after the betrothal would be confirmed. Their marriage would follow swiftly, and when he finally took her to his bed, it would be with honor and with vows that would last a lifetime and beyond.
Their lovemaking would not be stolen in shadows, but something he could cherish openly.
Kenneth stood there for a moment longer, listening to the quiet of the keep, the weight of what lay ahead settling over him – Council, ceremony, responsibility – and beneath it all, a fierce, unwavering certainty.
Finally, he moved away, stepping toward his own door only a few paces further on. He paused as footsteps echoed along the stone passageway toward him.
A voice called his name. “Laird Kenneth.” A young squire hurried toward him, breathless, clutching a small parcel to his chest.
“Sire,” the boy said, bowing quickly, “this package has just arrived. It bears the king’s seal. We thought it best ye see it at once, even though the hour is late.”