Chapter 7 #2
“We are just as lucky to have you, mon cher amour.” Just as Collette had always called Cairren her little girl, she’d always called Innes her dear love.
To Cairren’s ear, it sounded even better than its equal translation of beloved, somehow more sentimental.
Cairren forced away the disappointment that she would never hear such an endearment from the man she was handfasting.
While she dressed, she’d resigned herself to what was to come and chided herself for self-pity.
Duty came before the individual, a mantra she’d adopted when she left home.
She would accept come what may with an open heart and an open mind, just as her mother advised.
“Are you ready, wee one?” Innes whispered. Even though she wasn’t, she nodded. She would discover soon enough what was coming.
Padraig slipped away from his nagging mother and Myrna’s constant sighs.
His head ached, and he needed peace to collect himself before he would be forced to stand on the kirk steps handfasting with a woman who couldn’t be more opposite in appearance from the woman he loved, the woman he longed to marry, the one he was supposed to marry.
He’d accepted his fate and resigned himself to accept his immediate future.
Micheil pulled Padraig aside and explained the wedding would be a handfasting instead.
While it was an inordinate relief to know an end was in sight, he dreaded listening to Mary and Myrna counting down the days until Cairren left.
Until the number was in the single digits, Padraig feared it would demoralize him more.
And he admitted to himself that Myrna’s attitude was becoming tiresome.
Her aggrieved huffs and wistful sighs were wearing his nerves thin, a first between them.
Their courtship had been idyllic, both cherishing every moment they spent together, planning their life together and the family they would build.
They’d been so like-minded in all things that Padraig assumed he would never find fault in Myrna.
But now her petulance and insolence made him wonder what she would be like if they did ever disagree.
For the first time, she seemed less attractive to him.
Cairren had made her dislike of their situation clear, but each point she raised had been valid.
Padraig had thought about their conversation both inside and outside the keep for most of the night.
Cairren’s accusations had been truthful, and her concerns about Myrna were honest without being spiteful.
He’d tried to imagine how Myrna would feel if she were put in Cairren’s place.
His heart ached at the thought, and some sympathy that welled in his chest from his fictitious scenario spilled over to Cairren.
If he’d intended to keep himself only unto Myrna when they thought they would marry, he’d accepted that he should do the same for Cairren.
Now that he knew that it was only for a year, the sacrifice seemed less significant.
Laughter carried to him on a breeze as he wandered toward the loch.
He caught snippets of French and knew the Kennedys were nearby.
He assumed they were there for a walk like he was, so the loud cry and splash startled him.
He feared one of the ladies had fallen into the lake if they’d been standing on an outcropping.
The rocks were slick even in dry weather, and it was easy to fall.
Padraig sprinted toward the shore, but came to a halt when he spotted Cairren giggling as she soared through the air before tucking into a tight ball just before landing in the water.
Innes’s chuckle turned Padraig’s attention toward his soon-to-be father-by-marriage.
The amusement and fondness on his face spoke of his affection for his daughter.
He noticed Collette sat on a rock dangling her feet in the water, wearing only her chemise.
But his attention reverted to Cairren as she swam close to Innes, then flipped onto her back, kicking water in her father’s face.
In the blink of an eye, she was on her belly and disappearing beneath the surface.
Padraig watched as Innes took off after his daughter underwater, and it was only a moment later that Cairren’s head emerged as Innes dragged her back to him.
“What am I to do with such a naughty lass who splashes her father?” Innes teased.
“Toss me out, Papa!” Cairren replied. Innes hoisted Cairren over his head, her petite body weighing little more than a feather to the braw warrior.
He bounced her thrice before hurling her forward.
This time, instead of tucking into a ball, Cairren stretched into a graceful arrow, entering the water headfirst. The Kennedys’ playfulness mesmerized Padraig.
He’d seen no family, noble or otherwise, so relaxed and happy in one another’s company.
He supposed the Sinclair siblings were the closest he could think of.
The four brothers and their little sister were famous for their bond.
The four mountainous men were no match for their sister, who didn’t even come to their shoulders.
Padraig had never shared even a remote closeness to Duncan.
They’d been rivals and adversaries their entire lives.
When Padraig surpassed Duncan’s height, the rift between them became irreparable, as though Duncan blamed his younger brother for growing taller and broader than him.
While neither had control over their height, Padraig spent far more hours training than Duncan, who took for granted his position as tánaiste.
His inheritance was secure, and he believed himself a better fighter than he was, so he often skipped the hours in the lists that Padraig spent, preferring to bed women other than his wife.
Padraig’s musings ended when he realized Collette had caught sight of him gawking.
He nodded and moved further down the path, but Cairren’s voice drew closer as he passed by a bush and tree that provided camouflage despite the red brick color of his plaid.
Padraig ducked and spied through the leaves as Cairren hoisted herself onto the rock beside her mother.
Her wet chemise clung to her, and it granted Padraig a spectacular view of full breasts and dark nipples.
As she rang out her hair and lifted it off her neck, the transparent garment pulled tighter, and Padraig’s cock roared to life.
“Ma petite-fille, we must return to the keep, so you can prepare for the ceremony. Slip into those trees and change back into your kirtle.” Collette nodded toward trees near where Padraig hid.
He wondered if Collette suspected he lingered or if she meant privacy for Cairren.
Before he could consider whether he should walk away, Cairren yanked her sodden chemise over her head.
She stood there in the buff with a body more glorious than anything his imagination could divine.
He’d bedded enough women to know they weren’t all created the same, but Cairren’s body surpassed even the ripest tavern wench.
His feet seemed to have taken root as he remained frozen in place, fearing that any movement would alert Cairren to his presence.
A sense of urgency to conduct the ceremony and begin the feast so he could take her to his chamber soon pulsed along with his straining rod.
Shame and disloyalty soon pushed desire out of the way.
He was ashamed to spy on Cairren when she believed she had the benefit of privacy, and he felt disloyal to Myrna and ashamed for wanting Cairren with a physical hunger that surpassed any he’d experienced for Myrna.
He closed his eyes as he tried to calm his racing heart and thoughts.
He knew there would be an unavoidable bedding ceremony.
As he’d lain in bed the night before, he’d considered Cairren’s suggestion that he just stay away once they consummated the handfast. It would make the repudiation easier, especially since he wouldn’t risk siring any children.
It eased his guilt for hurting Myrna by bedding another woman.
But all of his good intentions evaporated as he watched Cairren.
She was a siren, and he was a sailor willingly lured.
Cairren didn’t even know the effect she had on him, but he feared she might grow manipulative when she realized she had the power to bring him to his knees.
However, that thought didn’t sit right with him.
Something about Cairren made him doubt she was the manipulative type.
Mayhap we can form a truce if we at least get along in the bedchamber.
If Myrna isnae here to see, then mayhap bedding Cairren every night will make it easier for us to get along.
If she’s satisfied, well…What the hell am I saying?
I want to send Myrna off, so she doesnae ken how much I enjoy bedding another woman! How fickle and disloyal can I be?
But I will be sworn to Cairren for at least a year.
She deserves some of ma loyalty. Having the woman I want, the one I intend to spend the rest of my life with after this debacle ends, living under the same roof as ma wife is a slight.
Even I ken better. But the thought of nae seeing Myrna, nae talking to her even if I canna hold her, is excruciating.
I may enjoy bedding Cairren, but entering the chamber every night that I’ve believed meant for Myrna with a woman who isnae Myrna dulls the appeal of even the most enticing woman I’ve ever seen.
Padraig rubbed his forehead as the ache continued.
He remained out of sight until the Kennedys passed through the postern gate.
Then he returned to his chamber to prepare for the handfasting.