Chapter 19
Ailsa had trusted Will when he told her he would return.
“I’ve made up me mind, lass, and if ye cannae bear to leave dear Gudrun behind, then it looks like I will have to come an’ live here. Let me go back an’ tell Faither the news. I ken he will understand, an’ when he gets to know ye a wee bit better, he’ll come to love ye almost as much as I do.”
She had wept and clung to him, whispering through her anxious tears that she was afraid he would go and never come back. He had laughed away her concerns.
“Come now, me brave lass, never say so. Callum has asked me to become weapons master here at the castle, an’ ye’re me heart’s desire. Why would I no’ come back? The day of our wedding is set, an’ I’ll no’ miss it for hell or high water.”
And then he was gone.
Ailsa found it difficult to concentrate on her work. She found herself drawn to the west tower, and it was not always to play with Wee Willie MacNair. In fact, the little boy disliked the faint air of melancholy that hung around the housekeeper now.
“Ailly,” Wee Willie would sigh and kick their game of soldiers across the floor, “ye’re nay fun anymore. I want Uncle Will!” All this would do was make Ailsa stare out of the west-facing window and sigh.
The day of the wedding dawned, and there was still no sign of Will. Ailsa wanted to curl up and die, not dress in the beautiful red woolen gown her mother had woven for her and that Aunt Oona had embroidered with pretty silver flowers around the bodice neckline.
“Go away!” Ailsa shouted when they came into the room in the morning. “If ye think I’m going to allow ye all to bedight me with finery only to have me stand at the head o’ the aisle on me own, ye must be mad!”
Gudrun acted as if she had not spoken. “Come now, lazybones. Up out of that bed. Just think, Ailsa, this will be yer last night sleeping in a narrow bed.”
It did not matter how much Ailsa wept that she had been forgotten, that no man as handsome as Will would look twice at her, as plain and pale as she was. And why should he when he probably had a wife already over on the western shores?
The two women ignored her and continued to dress her in bridal finery.
“Have a keek at how gorgeous ye are in the mirror, Ailsa,” Oona ordered her to look, and Ailsa cheered up a bit at the image staring back at her.
The sisters had plied her with a fair amount of wine by this time, and Ailsa felt very calm when she saw the tall, willowy, blonde figure staring back at her, wearing a dark red robe embellished with silver, her long hair flowing down her back, sweeping against the back of her knees.
“Say farewell to yer hair being on display, Ailsa.” Gudrun gave her daughter a kiss on her cheek while pushing her out of the door. “Because from tonight, it will be only yer husband’s pleasure to see it!”
Tam held out his arm for her at the chapel door and led her up the chapel aisle…where William and his faither, Fingal, were waiting for her at the top! The clergyman beckoned her forward with an encouraging smile, but she only had eyes for Will.
The ceremony was a blur, and Ailsa could hardly believe it when the clergyman declared them married.
One sweet kiss and it was time for them to walk to the banquet hall to eat the one feast prepared at the castle that Ailsa did not help make.
It was heaven with her husband by her side and her father-in-law bidding her welcome into the Fearguson clan.
She could not believe that she could have been so miserably unhappy at the start of the day and so ecstatically happy by the end of it.
Then it was time for Laird Callum, Will’s brother, to make a speech.
Plenty of ale and wine had been drunk by this time, but most guests understood that the sons of Lady MacNair did not drink anything harder than weak ale.
That was why it came as such a shock when Laird Callum shouted out into the hall, “There is an unsettled score between us, William Fearguson! Last time we fought, ye had the housekeeper come to yer rescue, but no’ this time.
This time we fight for real, an’ may the best man win! ”
Will, who never went anywhere without his sword, drew the weapon in a flash from the sheath hanging at his side. He leaped from his chair and onto the middle of the table to face his brother, who had pushed back his chair from the right side of the table so hard it fell back with a crash.
“Come down an’ fight me on the ground if ye are a man!
” Callum roared, circling around so he could step off the dais and into the aisle between the rows of boards and benches.
Like a prowling wolf, Will followed him, his sword hilt held in two hands, the blade poised on his left shoulder, ready for action.
Callum threw his sword by the hilt (the weapon was the mirror image of his brother’s) from one hand to the other so that Will would not be able to predict from which side the first blow would come.
The guests collectively held their breath as Callum stepped back, drawing his brother to come closer.
Suddenly, the swords clanged together; everyone gasped.
A flurry of hard blows followed as the men circled each other, looking for a weakness, a vantage point.
The swords were massive in size, long and very heavy. One wrong move and…death.
Laird Callum was taller and had the longer reach, but Will was by far the more muscular, his arms muscles having grown huge from pounding the anvil all day.
“It’s too close to call,” Laird Gray muttered through gritted teeth. “Each one will be the death of the other at the same time!”
Blow after blow rang out into the furthest corners of the hall, echoing off the ceiling rafters. Ailsa and Meria held hands tightly. Both women were in disbelief at how bad the day had turned.
Everyone gradually became aware that the combatants were starting to flag.
There was the veriest hint of a tremor in Callum’s arms; Will’s legs had lost their agility.
They swung at one another with tired blows and trembling hands.
The end was close. The blades met in the middle as Callum and Will faced off, one straining against the other.
“Ye forgot about me an’ went off to join another family,” Callum panted.
Will snarled, “I was a wee yin an’ ye went an’ left me on that cart without even sayin’ farewell!”
Both men shouted out into the room, “Maybe we should end it together!” and swung their swords at one another’s necks only to stop short and break out into helpless laughter.
“Now, that’s play acting at its finest, would ye no’ agree, Wife?” William chuckled, but he gave Ailsa a rueful wink.
Callum was laughing so hard that he had to prop himself against one of the tables. “Ye should have seen yer faces! It was hard to resist playing a jest on ye after that birthday feast ye held in me honor, Meria. Forgive us, but we have been hatchin’ the joke for some time.”
The two brothers walked up to the dais table and bowed.
“Folks,” Will said, “it was but a play at britherly hate. Let us raise a glass and say Slàinte to one an’ all, and may britherly love bless every cottage an’ castle in MacNair lands!”
Later, in their bedchamber, Ailsa rounded on him. “Ye would be well served if I went off an’ left ye to have yer beddan on yer own, Will! See how ye like it to look the fool!”
Ailsa was still fuming about the jest the brothers had played on everyone.
Will was unrepentant. “A wee prank, lass. ’Twas naught more than a trick to pull yer leg. I deserve a wee bit o’ praise for the way I made me legs shake to pretend I was tired, don’ ye think?”
Ailsa finished brushing her hair in front of the mirror and came to where he lay on the bed.
Will had untied his boots and removed his shirt and lay across the bed wearing his plaid.
Ailsa thought his body had no more secrets to show her (she had seen him swimming naked in the stream, after all), but when she joined him on the bed and Will removed his plaid by casually ripping off his belt, she realized she knew nothing about how the male form could change when it was behind a closed door and lying on a bed.
Will pulled Ailsa close to him, and she came readily. He ran his fingers through her silky silver hair.
“Finally, Ailsa, this is all mine.” He raised a soft sheath of hair to his lips and kissed it.
“Take off yer nightshift, Wife,” Will growled.
“Ye will nae be needin’ it for many nights to come.
When it is cold, I will warm ye, an’ when ye are hot, I’ll make love to ye in river reeds until yer skin feels fresher than a handful o’ ice. ”
This was no time for fun and games. There was no time to waste with sweet blandishments and nibbling kisses.
They both desired each other too much to bother with little things.
Ailsa wanted their married life to begin big and hard, rough and dirty, just like the coal blacksmith had promised the pale witch woman in the song of old.
The raging, burning pleasure trembled and pulsed and thundered through her after threatening to rise and rise. Will seemed to be a master of her body, and she only hoped that she could make him feel as good.
He rose up and kissed her. He tasted her sweetness on his lips, and then she rolled him onto his back.
She drifted down his physique and breathed in his masculine musk as she kissed his manhood.
It was like the ship’s mast, tall and thick, and it was all hers.
Instinct drove her and she caressed it with her hands before placing her lips upon the tip and bringing it into her mouth, feeling the warmth surge within.
She let his moans guide her, deeper and deeper, until the rhythm had him crying out with delight.
Strong hands pulled her away, and for a moment, she thought she had done something wrong, but Will just wanted to kiss her again.
The tension in his body was rife, and she could feel him trembling.
She shifted her position so that she was straddling him, her legs wrapped on either side of his body.
She lowered herself down and felt a pinch of pain as they became one, but then her world shifted, and she felt everything go hazy.
To steady herself, she placed her hands on his chest and could feel his heart beating under the surface.
His hands were all over her, worshiping her beauty as they rocked back and forth.
The bed creaked and the world spun and it was as though she was seeing things in an entirely new way.
Pleasure rose and rose like a high wave, and then she found herself spinning as Will used his strength to place her onto her back.
Will kissed her wildly. He cradled her in his arms with his weight upon her as though she was the only thing that mattered in the entire world.
She lay her fingers against his back, feeling the sinews moving with the rest of his body as though he was some great beast. His breathing was fervent, and she lost herself in him.
Her toes curled with delight as she was locked in this passionate embrace.
The thunder came, rumbling from him to her in a shuddering blaze of pleasure and heat.
When it was over, Will brushed a few errant strands of her silver hair away from her face. She then looked deeply into his green eyes and said the words she had been longing to say for so long.
“I love ye, Will.”
“I love ye too, Ailsa.”
They kissed and lay together, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other’s body as the pleasure dissipated from their flesh.
William Fearguson had given her so much since she had first seen the tall, travel-stained stranger duck his head under the cottage doorframe, Ailsa wished there was more she could do for him to show him how much she adored her braw, lusty, dusty blacksmith.
She told him this when they were lying in one another’s arms afterward, and Will seemed pleased to hear it.
“So tell me,” Ailsa said, “what can I do to please ye even more? ’Tis our beddan night after all…”
“I’ll no’ tell ye, lass,” Will said, leaning over to give her a hard, passionate kiss. “I’d rather show ye…”