Chapter Twenty-Seven
While Ronan had not enjoyed Hannah’s visit or her cruelty, he had to admit the effects had been beneficial for his wife.
Over the next few weeks, as she healed from the injuries caused by the arrow and planned a wedding for her dear friend, Ronan saw her heart and spirit mending from years of injuries inflicted by her sister’s manipulations as well.
He still hated the role he played in Brenna’s pain.
He often found himself wishing he could return to the day they’d married so he could do things differently.
He wished he could tell that fickle young man he’d been what was truly important in life.
“I will always regret that you heard me ask my grandsire to marry your sister instead. I want you to know how pleased I am that my request was denied.”
“I know,” she said, and he heard the strength in her words. She believed him. Even better, she believed in herself. She was no longer a girl living in the shadows of her older sister but a woman who knew her worth.
He’d not realized how alluring such a thing could be. His heart quickened, and his body responded. He wished they could be alone in the forest, but they stayed within the castle walls these days to ensure Ewan couldn’t cause more problems if he remained nearby.
Sitting in the hall for the noon meal was not the best time for his cock to grow hard for his wife. However, being a laird must have some benefits to offset all the responsibility, and he was about to take advantage of one such benefit when a messenger arrived.
Ronan smiled as he opened the missive from his brother, Shane, but he frowned while reading the words. The other laird was looking for Ronan’s mother, who had fled the MacPherson clan with the contents of their coffers.
It made sense that Deirdre would have come to the Grants, but Ronan knew she wouldn’t seek safety from Shane here. She knew where Ronan’s loyalties lay. He would have seized the funds and returned them to Shane immediately.
“I’m afraid my mother is not here at Strathspey. I’ll have a message ready to return to your laird shortly. Please have a meal.”
The messenger bowed and hurried off to an open seat. He wished he could do something to help his brother and the MacPherson clan. While his coffers were full, they were not overflowing.
“What has brought such unhappiness to your face, husband?” Brenna asked.
“It seems my mother has emptied my brother’s coffers and left the MacPherson clan in need only these few months before the weather turns.”
“And you wish to help?”
“Aye. He’s my brother. And the MacPhersons are as much my family as the Grants. I cannot allow them to starve. But I need to make sure I have enough for our people.”
Brenna nodded. “We may not have extra, but we can adjust so there is enough to share.”
Ronan looked at Brenna and wondered how he had ever believed Ewan’s lies. She was nothing like his mother. Deirdre MacPherson would not have spared a single bauble to help another clan, yet Brenna wished to help, having never even met Shane and the rest of the MacPhersons.
“I will extend an offer of help if Shane needs it. He’s stubborn. I know he won’t accept unless there is no other way. But he won’t allow his pride to cause his people harm. Let’s see what we might do to help if it comes to that.”
With the message to his brother written and handed over to the messenger, Ronan sat beside his wife once more.
“Don’t worry, husband. Your family will be cared for,” she said, seeming to know his thoughts and how to ease his worries. No one could be more perfect for him.
“I am grateful, wife, but I need to show you something in our chambers right now.”
“But we are eating.” Her cheeks grew pink, betraying her knowledge of what he had planned.
“Bring it with you.” He stood, picking up their trenchers and strategically carrying them in front of himself as she followed him from the hall.
He heard a few snickers from the men but couldn’t care what they thought.
Yes, he was mad about his wife and didn’t worry much about who knew it.
He’d waited for her to heal, and now that it was clear she was back to her usual self, he couldn’t wait another minute to take her in his arms and show her how much he wanted her.
In the room, he practically tossed their food to the small table near the window before turning to his wife and lifting her in his arms.
She laughed as he carried her to the bed and practically leaped on top of her, kissing the exposed skin of her breasts and tugging down her gown to reveal even more of that warm, creamy skin.
“I have missed you, husband.”
He had missed her as well, but he’d needed to see her fully healed before seeing to their pleasure.
Even when she’d assured him time and time again she was well enough for such things, he’d refrained so as not to cause her pain.
But the stitches had been removed, and he’d seen for himself that the wound was no more than a pink scar.
He kissed the mark, grateful that it had not been lower and took her from him.
“I will make it up to you, wife, and repay you for your patience.”
“I’m not sure I will survive such a feat,” she said with a laugh. “But I am willing to give it my best effort.”
Ronan stroked a brown curl back from her face and kissed her slowly, silently promising all the ways he planned to pleasure her.
It had not been five years, but as he removed each garment, he faced the same raging desire he’d felt the first time.
“I can’t ever seem to get enough of you,” he told her.
She stared up into his eyes. “It is good then that we have all our lives to feast on each other.”
And feast he did. He was focusing first on her lovely breasts and the rosy peaks that hardened under his attention.
He placed kisses on her stomach and trailed his tongue over the juncture between her body and thigh that made her squirm.
Finally, he settled between her legs, where he kissed her intimately.
She sat up, pulling herself out of his reach. “May I try that?”
At first, he didn’t understand her request. Then, when he did, he thought he had to be wrong.
“You want to…?”
“The women in the kitchen spoke of it once, and I’m intrigued.”
“Intrigued?” He laughed. “Far be it from me to keep your curiosity from being sated.”
He allowed her to push him to his back as she mirrored his same movements, kissing his chest and moving lower.
By the time her warm mouth touched him, he worried he’d spend at the sight, but he managed several good minutes of her exploration before he had to change positions again so he could slide into her.
Home.
He linked his fingers with hers as they moved together. Their gazes never shifted away from each other. Even when they reached their peak, they watched, sharing the most intimate moments. Experiencing their souls strengthened their bond.
And the love he saw in her eyes was exactly what he felt as they held each other in post-coital laziness.
He loved his wife.
He was easily as besotted as his father and stepfather had been over Ronan’s mother.
Heaven help him.
***
For all the pleasure Brenna had shared with her husband, she’d never been so rattled as she was this time. She felt raw and exposed for sharing so much, but rather than being weary, she felt powerful.
Every touch and glance as they dressed seemed to sizzle between them.
Tonight, Gabe and Isabelle would marry in the hall in a modest ceremony. There were still some last-minute things to be done, but Brenna couldn’t stop touching her husband, who seemed unable to let go of her.
With a growl, he opened the door and led her from their room.
She expected the strange feeling to fade as they went about their day, but even as she spoke with Jane, she would catch her husband watching her, and they would share a private smile.
Something had shifted. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he preferred her over even the most seductive temptress.
But Brenna wasn’t sure that was it. Or at least not all of it.
Isabelle arrived from the village, and Brenna led her to one of the chambers to help her get ready for the ceremony. Jane, Corinne, and Ada had also come.
“Are you nervous, Isabelle?”
The girl shrugged.
Brenna had encouraged her guard to get to know his bride so they wouldn’t be complete strangers when they married, unlike she and Ronan.
“A kinder man you’ll not find,” Ada said.
“As his aunt, I’m sure you would not say otherwise,” Corinne mentioned. “But as I am not related to him, I can attest that it is true.”
Isabelle nodded with a small smile.
“I know of his kindness. The fact that I am preparing to wed him is proof of it. I wish… That is…” She rested her hand on her swollen belly, and Brenna thought she understood what the girl could not say.
“There is no sense to wish things were different. They are as they should be,” Brenna said. She only realized how much she believed that after the words were out.
Wishing Ronan had never gone to France or that they’d had the chance to know each other better before they married was a useless waste of time. They were together now and happy. Nothing else mattered.
When the bride was ready, they helped her down the stairs.
Ronan was waiting for her with a charming grin on his face. He patted her hand and led her into the hall, where a sickly looking Gabe stood next to the priest. Malcolm stood on his other side, looking grim as usual.
“Did I look so wretched when we married?” he asked.
“I don’t recall. I could barely meet your eye,” she answered.
“I remember wondering why you agreed to marry me after you knew the truth. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you saw me as the best option.”
They chuckled, but she looked up into his warm brown eyes and nodded.
“I now know it was the only option for me.”