Chapter 1 #2
“Of course we are doing this,” Anders told her and flashed his irresistible grin.
Stellan could see that it failed to have Anders’ desired effect.
“We’ve been thinking about this since ye asked whether ’twas faster by land or sea when ye first came here. We were riding along the firth,” Stellan told her. “Do ye no’ remember that?”
“I do, of course,” she replied. “I dinna think ye’d be daft enough to actually test it, or that yer da would agree. Ye ken how long it takes to ride to MacKay. Taking herbs for the bairn willna change that. Why must ye make a race out of it?”
“We have never ridden to MacKay with the intent of making the best time possible. Nor have we sailed there from Dunrobin. And we must both go at the same time so the conditions are as close to the same as possible for both of us,” Anders explained, his tone unexpectedly the voice of reason.
Mariota didn’t look convinced.
“There is naught reasonable about this daft idea of yers,” she complained. “’Tis unnecessary and puts both of ye at risk for nay reason. What if ye get hurt or yer birlinn sinks or—”
“That willna happen,” Stellan told her and put an arm around her.
“Ye dinna need to fash. We ken what we’re doing.
” Mariota was never this fearful. He would expect her to demand to go with them, not hear the ring of panic in her voice.
The bairn she was carrying, their second, due near midwinter, must be making her anxious.
“And I ken ye are both daft. I’ve married into a clan of eejits!”
“She’s worried about ye, Brother,” Anders assured Stellan.
“She should be worried about ye. Ye are the one who will be sailing.”
Anders shrugged and held out his hands, palms up. “’Tis what I prefer.”
“And I am happier on dry land,” Stellan said and chucked Mariota under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “So, ye see, I’ll be well.”
“Ye had better be.” Her lips compressed into a thin line. “The last time ye came home from MacKay, ye were full of holes.”
“The man who put them there is dead, Love, as well ye ken.”
Alber MacKay had harassed and assaulted Mariota and her hawk, Valkyrie, into running from MacKay into Sutherland territory.
There, she happened upon a Sutherland hunting party led by Stellan.
She never would have done such a risky thing had her father, the MacKay laird, believed her when she complained of Alber’s treatment and the peril he threatened.
But her father had taken in Alber as a young lad after his father was killed.
He didn’t believe the man Alber had grown into capable of such behavior, or that she had successfully defended herself against him.
After Alber got his hands around Mariota’s throat and she fought him off, she knew she was out of time and out of alternatives.
She snuck out of MacKay in the middle of the night, a decision that changed her life and MacKay—and one that eventually pitted Stellan against Alber in a vicious fight that led to Alber’s death and almost to Stellan’s.
He knew reminders of those days would only upset her, and so did Anders.
Anders raised a hand. “Do ye nay care what might happen to me?”
“Captured by Viking raiders?” Mariota replied. “Shipwrecked in enemy territory? Lost at sea in a storm? How many ways can a birlinn come to grief?” Mariota ticked the alternatives on her fingers.
Anders faked a shudder. “I think those are quite enough,” he told her.
“At least ye’ll have a crew with ye,” Stellan said. “Ye canna row a ship that size alone.”
“Ye’ll have an escort. I told ye Da wouldna agree to ye making such a trip by yerself, even if ye do have the fastest horse in Sutherland.”
“Nor would I,” Mariota chimed in. “But I ken ye are wiser than to risk that. There are too many places and too many ways to come to grief. I’ll be thinking about every one of them while ye are gone.”
After the evening meal, Stellan and Mariota returned to their chamber.
He could see she was still unhappy about his upcoming trip.
Normally, she was the one soothing his frustrations, but tonight, he would have to care for her.
It was something he enjoyed doing and something he would miss while they were separated.
But that separation would make homecoming and their reunion all the sweeter.
While Stellan filled his travel pack, she paced around their chamber, moving things from one place to another and back again, and rubbing her rounding belly.
Her favorite cat, Carlie, watched with narrowed amber eyes from her perch on Mariota’s pillow.
“I’ll go up to the nursery and make sure Beathan is settled for the night,” she finally said and moved toward the door.
Stellan intercepted her and wrapped her in his arms. “He is fine. Laire is well used to caring for him, and she will fetch us if he needs us.”
“I ken she will. I—”
“Our son’s nurse is nay the issue. Ye are fashed. Love, ye dinna need to be. I will be well. But I will miss ye and Beathan, and this wee one, as well,” he added, putting a hand on her warm, round belly.
“What if aught happens and ye canna return before the birth?”
“’Tis months away, Love. I’ll be back in a sennight or a wee more.” He bent and traced his lips over hers. “I’ll think of ye every moment I am gone.”
“I’ll think of ye, as well, Husband. And miss ye in my bed.”
“I’m nay gone yet,” Stellan told her and pulled her closer. He stroked her spine and down over her firm arse. “We still have hours together. I ken how I would like to spend them. Do ye?”
“Ach, Stellan, ye ken I do.”
“Then let me help ye,” he said and turned her so he could unlace her kirtle. He slipped it from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor around her, leaving her in her shift. He picked her up and placed her on the edge of the bed, then dropped to his knees to remove her boots.
“Yer turn,” she told him, her gaze warm and soft as she studied him.
He stood and kicked off his boots, then stripped out of everything else.
“Ye are the handsomest man in all of Scotland,” Mariota told him. “Nay other can compare to ye.”
“Nay even my twin?”
“He isna ye. Ye ken fine I can tell the difference between ye. Did I no’ prove that to ye while we were still at MacKay?”
“Aye, Love, ye did, and I am forever grateful.”
“As ye should be.”
“And how may I show my lady my gratitude this e’en?”
“That, ye ken fine as well,” she said and gave him the smile he’d been hoping for.
Stellan stroked the bottom of her foot, making her laugh, and scaring Carlie into abandoning her warm perch on the pillow for a cushioned chair by the hearth. Then he bent to the joyful task of seducing his wife. Packing could wait.