Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Once his fever had broken, Arran healed quickly. Skye continued to fuss over him, forcing him to rest when he didn’t feel like it and making him eat even when he didn’t feel hungry. She was joined by Astrid and Nellie—even Helena was part of the band of women who sought to boss him around.
Arran started to wonder who was actually in charge at Castle MacArthur, and he now felt a kinship with the young studs that were turned out with the mares in the fields.
“Quit yer whinin’, lad,” Magnus chided him a few days after Skye allowed him to leave his chamber. “Ye do what the ladies say, and ye’ll completely heal.”
Arran grumbled more about feeling henpecked, and Magnus only laughed.
“I want to do something to thank me wife,” Arran admitted.
“Surprise her?”
“Aye.”
“How very romantic of ye, lad. What about taking her to the rooftop to see the stars?”
“Aye, I like the rooftop.”
Arran pondered Mangus’s suggestion and quickly got to planning.
He used all of his recovered energy to run around the castle and find candles, flowers, and blankets.
He took them to the roof, laid them out nicely, and collected some food and ale from the kitchen.
Then, as the sun began to set, he went to fetch his wife.
“Skye?” he called, knocking on her bedroom door.
“Come in.”
He stepped into the room and found her sitting on a chair by the window. She turned toward him, and his heart leapt when her eyes lit up at the sight of him.
“I’ve something to show ye. Come with me,” he said, offering her his hand and giving her a graceful but cheeky smile.
“What is it?” she asked with a giggle, rising hesitantly.
“No questions, just trust me.”
She reluctantly placed her hand in his and followed his lead.
He pulled her into the hallway and then led her through the winding stone corridors, up the spiraling staircase, and up to the rooftop of the highest tower of the castle. As soon as they were outside, he turned to see her reaction.
The candlelight reflected in her bright blue eyes, and her lips parted to reveal her pearly white teeth. He swore he even saw her cheeks redden.
“Arran, it’s beautiful. Ye did all this?”
“For ye.”
He took her hand once more and led her to the blanket he had laid out. They sat, and he poured her a drink. The couple gazed out over the castle as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting rays of deep red, amber, and pink across the clear sky.
“The stars will be out shortly. Ye can see how beautiful it is here even at night,” he said in a whisper, his warm breath fanning her skin.
“Thank ye, Arran, it’s wonderful.”
“Nay, thank ye. That is why I did all this. To thank ye for savin’ me, for carin’ for me.”
She turned to him with earnest eyes. “I am yer wife, Arran, it is me job.”
“I had hoped that ye maybe did it for more than duty,” he admitted.
“I did it because I care for ye. And ye arenae bad to look at, even when ye’re unwell.” She laughed, and he joined her.
He lifted his hand to her cheek and grazed it with the back of his finger. He then trailed his fingers down her neck, slid them around the back and through her hair, before leaning in and planting a kiss on her lips. Her lips parted beneath his, and she leaned into him.
Arran let his hands roam over her body, starting at her fingers, sliding up her wrists, up her forearms, and around her shoulders. He massaged her body, and she melted under his touch.
“Arran,” she whispered, pulling away just an inch. “Ye are still nae well.”
“I feel wonderful with me bonnie wife.”
He didn’t stop, and she didn’t protest any longer. His hand crept under her skirts and inched up her leg. His fingers stroked her soft skin, and he squeezed her thighs. Eventually, he slid the tip of his finger between the lips of her sex, and she gasped into his mouth.
He gently slid his finger back and forth, feeling how wet she had become for him. Soon he felt her grinding against his hand all while he kissed and nuzzled her face and neck.
He thought his manhood would burst with each caress, and when a moan escaped her lips, he almost spilled in his trews like an untried yeth. He responded with a growl of his own, and his mouth came down hungrily on hers as his fingers stroked the nub at the apex of her sex.
As she rolled onto her back, his mouth never left hers, their tongues mating in a dance as old as time. She reached up and placed one hand on his waist, and the other gripped the back of his head. His fingers expertly moved and tested until she began grinding her hips against his hand.
Her release came quickly as she moaned and gasped into his mouth.
When her breathing slowed, she whispered, “Ye’re goin’ to be the death of me, me Laird.”
“As long as I have many more years to enjoy ye, I am all right with that.”
The sun shone brightly over the courtyard the following morning. Arran thought the space that was once used for training and fighting looked inviting and cheerful. The yard was clean and uncluttered, and the grass was cut.
Several stone edged garden beds lined the east wall, and he saw where Skye had transferred several plants. Two other beds were near the kitchen. He assumed one set was for medicinal plants and the other for spices.
Some window boxes were overflowing with flowers, and several flower beds bordered the sidewalk and steps to the keep. His wife had been busy.
“What have ye been up to, wife?” he asked when Skye stepped out the main door, carrying more flowers for the display.
“I ought to repay the favor. I asked Astrid to make us a special lunch to celebrate yer good health.”
She was about to carry on her organizing when Arran caught her hand and turned her back toward him, pulling her in and kissing her softly.
“Ye are such a bonnie lass.”
In the middle of the yard, near the kitchen door, three long tables had been set up, and his friends and family had slowly begun to gather. Elsie, Helena, Magnus, and Fionn sat quickly, followed by Ava and Skye, giggling like young girls as always.
The day was warm, so Astrid had prepared a selection of cold, preserved meats and vegetables, apples, berries and cheese. The bread was fresh, and she’d chilled the jams and jellies in the spring along with the wine and ale.
Around the table, laughter and chatter filled the air as they celebrated Arran’s recovery. Once the food was served and the goblets filled, Magnus stood up and made a toast.
“To Arran’s health, and to the quick thinking of Lady MacArthur and the bravery of all of ye. It’s a miracle we’re celebrating here today.”
Skye looked up and caught her husband staring at her. She smiled warmly and drank from her goblet.
Fionn glared into his small tankard. “How about some wine or ale for me?” he cried.
“Ye’re gettin’ none of that, Fionn,” his father scolded. “Ye can toast yer Laird just fine with yer cider.”
“Aw, what’s the harm, Magnus?” Elsie interjected. “Whiskey was me drink of choice when I was half his age. It makes ye strong! How do ye think I lived this long?”
Everyone laughed, but Arran wonderd now, indeed, the old woman had lived so long. He was fairly certain it was not the drink, for the physician had said drink had been part of what carried his father to an early grave.
He shook off the sad thoughts and took a moment to enjoy the laughter as it flowed around the table.
It had been some time since there had been such peace and joy in his clan.
Marrying Skye had lifted the dread that his council might throw him out one day.
But that was not all. She had changed all their lives in ways for the better.
Fionn, who was acting as page, tugged at his sleeve. “Arran, there’s a man at the gate. He says his name is Colin, an’ he has news. But, me lord, he’s wearin’ MacKeith colors.”
“Then he comes openly,” Arran said. “I’ll see him. Douglas, Lyle, attend me.”
Skye glanced up from across the table from where she was tending Elsie. She gave him a worried look.
Arran gave her a friendly wave to tell her it was nothing. He wished someone could reassure him so easily.
Colin stood by the watering trough in the courtyard, tending to his horse.
“Have ye come to change yer colors?” Arran asked.
“Were I to do so, ye’d be the first laird I’d petition,” Colin said. “I’m afraid I’m the bearer of bad tidings.”
“How so?” Arran asked.
“Blackwell is engaged to marry again.”
There it was. The disruption of their peace. “Come in. Ye’ll need to speak with me wife and mother in law. Fionn, run and fetch them and yer faither too. We’ll meet in the sentry box near the drawbridge.”
They assembled in the small room, and Ava came, too. Arran quickly explained the matter.
“I had heard rumours at the castle… but he cannae marry. He’s still married to me maither,” Skye objected. Her face was etched with confusion, but panic was quickly setting in.
“He says he plans to have the council declare yer maither’s death to the other clans.”
“That’s a good thing, is it nae?” Ava asked.
“Nae for his future wife,” Helena said finally, her voice laced with fear.
“There’s more, me Laird,” Colin added patiently. “The woman, Lilias Conner, has a daughter and a son.”
“An heir.” Skye spoke the words so that Arran wouldn’t have to.
His heart rate quickened, but he controlled his breathing. He had to figure this out quickly to protect and calm his wife and his mother-in-law. This could mean another man to inherit his lands. He wouldn’t be able to get them back anymore.
Magnus said, “This marriage could change everything, Arran. Blackwell has nay reason to hand over the deeds if he has a legitimate heir.”
“Ye’d think the man would give up by now. This is his fifth marriage!” Helena exclaimed. “And it’s all for spite. He doesnae need the lands. He only wants to make others suffer.”
“And his prospective wife doesnae ken how awful he can be,” Skye added.
Arran could almost see the cogs in Helena and Skye’s minds turning.
“It’s simple,” Elsie announced. “The wedding must be stopped.”
Everyone fell silent. They all looked at the frail old lady. No one had noticed when she slipped into the meeting. Then Helena addressed the matter at hand. “I’ll do it. I’ll go there to stop the wedding.”
“Nay, Helena,” Magnus interjected, surprising everyone with his conviction and the emotion in his voice. “I willnae allow ye to go back.”
Helena blushed slightly, but she remained steadfast. “It’s the easiest way. Stop the wedding and save this poor woman, and ensure that Arran gets the lands back.”
“When do they plan to wed, Colin?” Arran asked.
“In two days.”
“That doesnae give me much time. I will go—with some of me men, of course. I will try to dissuade this woman from marrying Blackwell.”
“I will go with ye, Arran. She may listen better to a woman, ye ken?” Skye piped up.
“I’ll go with ye as well, Skye,” Helena added.
“Nay, neither of ye can come.” Arran turned to them both and fixed them with a stern look. “This is unlikely to go down smoothly, and I willnae put ye in harm’s way again. Me men and I can handle it.”
He could protect Skye as his wife, but Grayson still had a claim to Helena. He couldn’t leave her there with him—Skye would never forgive him.
Skye took his arm and turned him slightly to the side. She did not want to argue with him in front of their family, but he could see the resolve in her eyes.
“I have to come, Arran. This fight is about us. Blackwell will never back down if he cannae even see me. He needs to see me walk away.”
Arran gritted his teeth, but he knew his wife was right. Lilias Conner would have no reason to believe him.
“Douglas, prepare the horses and the men. If we leave now, we can get there before dark.”
Skye stood up. “I’ll go gather a few things.”
She left the small meeting room, and Helena followed. Arran set about organizing his men.
“Fionn, run to the stables and have Colum get Devil saddled and ready as well as the gray mare for Lady MacArthur.”
Fionn nodded and left immediately.
“Colin, ye will ride back with us to Castle MacKeith,” Arran continued.
“But what do ye plan to do when ye get there, Arran?” Magnus asked. “Blackwell isnae going to let ye walk in and talk to this Lilias. He’ll throw ye both back in a cell.”
Arran nodded in agreement. “I need to find a way for Skye to talk to her. She’s right. The woman will listen to her better. But if she doesnae, is there anything the council can do to stop the wedding from taking place, seeing that he’s still married?”
“Nay, Arran. We would have to take Helena to the council, and Grayson would need to be informed as well. He could try to make a claim to get her back. I daenae think the council would ever agree, but it’s nae a chance I’d take right now.”
“Then I will find a way,” Arran said with determination.
Skye returned with a satchel and bag, and looked at Arran, eager to leave. She hugged Helena. “Daenae worry, Maither. Arran will keep me safe, and I’ll do all I can to warn this woman. We need her to listen so that Arran can keep the lands. The clan needs it.”
Helena hugged her daughter and whispered, “Stay safe, Skye. Do what ye can but get out of there if ye think Blackwell’s up to anything.”
“I promise, Maither,” Skye answered, and then she stepped back to Arran’s side.
Ava rose from her seat and rounded the table. “I could ride with ye, Skye. I daenae like the idea of ye goin’ back, and a healer could be useful.”
“Ye are a good friend, Ava. But I’ll be fine with me husband. And I’ll be back in no time. I’ll feel better if ye stay here and keep me maither busy. She’ll worry while I’m gone.”
Ava hugged her friend. “All right then. But if ye need me, send word. I’ll be there.”
Skye hugged her back and then squeezed her hands.
Fionn rounded the corner and yelled, “The horses are ready, me Laird!”
Together, they walked to the stables.