Chapter Twenty-One #2
“By this cord, yer lives are bound. As the fabric weaves together threads, may yer days be woven with patience, with laughter, with strength. May the storm pass over ye, and the sun return, again and again.”
“I love ye,” Cailean murmured, low so only Rose could hear. “And I’ll stand beside ye, now and always.”
Rose’s breath hitched, her free hand rising to touch his cheek. “And I love you. Even through time itself.”
Agnes gave a quiet smile and then called loudly, “So be it! What is tied in love, let none undo.”
It was done. As the final words echoed around the great hall, the crowd broke into a chorus of clapping and cheering loud enough to lift the rafters.
Cailean bent his head and kissed her, sure and steady—and with a passion that gave a hint of what would come later—which only made the guests cheer all the harder.
Rose leaned into him, into the kiss, forgetting the guests, forgetting the hall, forgetting the entire world. There was only the two of them and this timeless moment.
That is until Catriona said quite clearly, and in a perfect imitation of Elise’s diction, “Ugh. That is gross!”
Rose couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing. “Oh, come here! I’ll show you gross!”
Pulling Catriona close, she threw her arms around her and planted the wettest, noisiest kiss she could manage right on her stepdaughter’s cheek.
*
Rose didn’t remember much of the celebration after that.
Everything became a whirlwind of eating, drinking, dancing, chatting, and generally having more fun than she could ever remember having.
One thing she realized was that her adopted people really knew how to party.
Sure, they worked hard to scrape a living from Barra’s harsh landscape, but they made up for it whenever there was a celebration to be had.
What was the term? Work hard, play hard?
But as she sat at Cailean’s side at the high table, watching the banter and the dancing, the drinking contests, and the friendly arguments, she knew the people of Barra had something to celebrate that went far beyond a mere wedding.
They were finally closing the door on a dark chapter in their lives and opening a page on a new one.
It was clear that her marriage to Cailean meant a lot to them.
All day people had been coming up to her to give her their blessing and to give Cailean dire warnings of what they would do to him if he didn’t take good care of her.
Cailean had borne this with good grace. It seemed that teasing the groom was also a part of Scottish wedding tradition.
Rose sat back, letting forth a long, contented sigh as she looked out over the throng of people enjoying themselves.
Catriona was dancing with Jenna while Patch bobbed around their feet.
Maggie was waxing lyrical about something to Beatrice while her sister sat there with her arms folded and a scowl on her face.
Rose definitely didn’t want to know what that conversation was about.
Elise had gradually shifted along the seats at the high table and now she sat next to Jamie Donald.
The Lord of the Isles certainly didn’t look very lordly right now.
In fact, he looked a little terrified as a clearly drunken Elise waved her goblet around as she tried to explain the rules of ice hockey.
“Do you think we should rescue him?” Rose said to Cailean, nodding in their direction.
Her husband glanced over at his liege-lord and then raised an eyebrow. “Rescue him? He looks to be having the time of his life. I’m sure he can handle yer sister.”
“Hmm. You don’t know Elise,” Rose muttered. She snuggled back against Cailean and heaved another sigh.
“That was a big sigh, love,” Cailean observed.
She shrugged. “I’m just happy, that’s all.”
“I’m glad. So, no regrets then?”
They were handfasted rather than married, and in Scottish tradition that meant they stayed together for a year and a day. After that, if they found they’d made a mistake, they were free to go their separate ways or formalize it into a permanent union.
Cailean had insisted on this arrangement for her sake.
After the ending of her marriage to Dennis, he didn’t want to pressure her into another.
She loved him for that. But she also knew, absolutely knew, that after the year and a day was up, she wouldn’t be going anywhere.
This was where she was meant to be. This was her home now. He was her home.
“No regrets,” she said softly. “Not now. Not ever.”
Something stirred in his gaze. His hand, resting on her shoulder, tightened, and a little tingle went through her. His eyes darkened, and that tingle inside her intensified, becoming an ache deep in her belly.
“I dinna think anyone would notice if we slipped away,” he said softly.
“I don’t care if they do,” she replied, her voice suddenly husky.
He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, pulling her up after him. Without a word, he took her hand and led her to the door—accompanied by a chorus of whistling and heckling, showing that their escape was definitely noticed.
Cailean turned at the door, gave a theatrical bow, then led Rose out, pulling the door closed behind him. As soon as the door was shut, cutting off the noise of the celebration, he was on her.
He pushed her against the wall, kissing her fiercely, curling his hands into her hair and exploring her lips with his own.
She kissed him back just as ferociously, wrapping her arms around his neck and slipping her tongue into his mouth.
A deluge of heat and desire swamped her, deepening the ache in her belly and lighting a heat between her legs.
“Take me upstairs,” she groaned into his mouth. “Right now.”
He smiled against her lips. “Yer command, my lady.”
He swept her into his arms, lifting her as though she weighed hardly anything at all. Cradling her tight, he carried her up the winding stairs and to the chamber they shared, kicking the door open and then pushing it shut with his hip.
Somebody had been in the chamber before them.
Candles had been lit on almost every surface, filling the room with warm golden light, and bunches of dried lavender gave the air a delicious scent.
A fire crackled in the hearth to chase away the autumn chill, and on the low table sat a decanter of wine, two goblets, and a covered platter of food.
Even the covers on the bed had been turned down.
“Remind me to thank Mable,” Rose said.
“Aye,” Cailean agreed. He set her on her feet and looked down at her. Candlelight danced in his dark, dark eyes. His lips parted, and a soft breath escaped him.
“I can hardly believe ye are mine,” he whispered. “I keep thinking this is a dream and I will awaken in a moment.”
“Then it’s a good dream,” she replied. She went up on tiptoes and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, just a delicate brush of her lips over his, but he shivered at the touch.
“Ah, lass,” he whispered, running a thumb across her cheek. “Ye have such power over me. What is it ye wish of me, my lady?”
She smiled wickedly. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I wish.”
An equally wicked smile quirked his lips, and the look in his eyes intensified. “And I am helpless but to obey.”
He dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers, softly, gently, as chaste as the kiss she’d just given him.
But Rose’s restraint snapped. Reaching up to cup his face in her hands, she kissed him back, and this time it was not chaste.
It was full of fire and passion and need.
She wanted him. Oh God, how she wanted him!
And Cailean responded. With a groan, his hands went to the small of her back, pushing her against the hardness of his body, his mouth exploring hers with a desperate hunger.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he slipped his hands under her backside, lifting her up as she wrapped her legs around his hips.
In this position, she could feel the hardness of him pressing against her, and knew he was as desperate for her as she was for him.
Still kissing, he carried her over to the bed and laid her on the cover, following her down.
His lips moved to her neck, her earlobes, her collarbone.
Rose writhed and gasped, the ache deep within her becoming almost overwhelming.
They began tearing at each other’s clothing, throwing the garments on the floor in their haste to get at each other.
Cailean rose onto his knees, naked and glorious above her, and her eyes devoured him hungrily, tracing the hard planes and angles of his chest, down to where his manhood stood stiff and proud.
She gasped, unable to form words, hoping he could read in her body language what she needed.
He did. He bent his head and took one of her nipples into his mouth as he positioned himself between her thighs, nudging her legs apart with his knees. Arching her back beneath him, Rose moaned as his tongue licked and teased her nipple until it hardened.
“Now,” she whispered. “Please.”
He obliged. Dropping his weight on top of her, he raised his head and stared deep into her eyes as he thrust his hips and drove himself deep inside her.
Rose cried out with pleasure, with the delicious sensation of him filling her, and gripped his shoulders with her fingers.
He watched her as he began to move, driving into her slowly at first but with increasing speed as he found his tempo.
The fire inside her intensified. She was helpless to do anything but gasp and shift beneath him, tilting her hips to meet his thrusts as they matched their rhythm.
It was too much. Too much. Surely she was going to burst into flame.
Surely she was going to burn from the inside out.
But she didn’t. Instead, fire began to sizzle along her nerves, beginning at the place where their bodies met, and radiating outwards. It was a pleasure that bordered on pain, so intense she began to lose herself, to come apart beneath this onslaught of sensation.
“Cailean,” she gasped, her moans and cries becoming quicker, higher, as the sensations began to overwhelm her.
He grunted in response, his movement becoming hard and fast and frantic, slamming into her with enough force to make the headboard slam against the wall.
Rose didn’t care. All she cared about was this inferno that was lifting her up, up, up until finally it engulfed her and she was obliterated into a raging torrent of ecstasy.
She might have cried out his name. She might have shouted her pleasure to the ceiling. She didn’t know. She was dimly aware of Cailean shuddering as he reached his peak and then collapsing on top of her, his weight pinning her to the bed.
It felt an age that she lay there, clinging to him, feeling the euphoria burn through her, feeling her muscles turn weak and lethargic with draining ecstasy. But finally, Cailean raised his head and looked at her.
“I love ye,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “My soul loves ye. My body loves ye. My heart loves ye. My Rose.”
She felt emotion clog her throat as well. She tilted her head slightly and kissed the end of his nose. “And I you, my Cailean.”
He rolled away from her, pulling her into an embrace, and she laid her head against his shoulder. A sleepy lassitude filled her, but as she felt herself begin to drift, her power suddenly surged inside her. Blinking, she sent her senses inward. Something had changed. Something…unexpected.
It took her a moment to discover what it was. There. A tiny, infinitesimal spark of life, deep inside her. Her eyes widened with realization, and she felt her heart begin to beat a little faster. Joy swept through her, and tears sprang to her eyes.
“Rose?” Cailean asked. “What’s wrong, my love?”
“Nothing is wrong,” she answered. “Quite the opposite, in fact.”
She took his hand and laid it on her belly. Confusion lit his face for a moment, and then his eyes widened.
“But… but how… how can ye know?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I am a MacFinnan spellweaver, you know.”
Cailean’s were full of wonder. Then the biggest grin she’d ever seen on him curled his lips.
“Ha!” he crowed, punching the air. “Goal!”
Rose laughed. That was another of Elise’s phrases he’d picked up.
“And I know the perfect way to celebrate,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her.
THE END