Chapter 23 #3
The laughter faded as his mouth moved down her body with the patience of a man who had the entire night before him. Diana closed her fingers in his hair and pulled him back to her mouth, impatient now in a way she no longer needed to hide.
When he moved over her, Diana lifted her hips and received him, her arms around his shoulders, her legs rising along his sides.
There was no pain this time. Her body took him fully, and a low sound left Alistair's throat when they came together.
They began slowly. Diana followed each movement, found the rhythm, then urged him faster when slow was no longer enough.
The narrow bed creaked beneath them.
Neither paid attention.
Sweat made their skin slick beneath their hands. The light from the three candles trembled whenever air slipped through the room and sent shadows climbing the stone walls.
The music in the hall had already ended. Beyond the chamber there was only the wind at the crack in the wall and their uneven breathing.
Pleasure gathered with every movement, eased for a moment, then rose again.
When release came, Diana arched against the mattress and said his name, loudly enough that the restraint of the past weeks finally seemed unnecessary.
Alistair followed moments later. He buried his face in her hair, his body still trembling from exertion, and Diana felt the rough sound he made against her neck more than she heard it.
They stayed joined while their breathing settled, their legs still tangled together.
Diana ran her fingers over his nape.
"The bed survived."
"MacLeods build well."
"The women prepared this bed."
"That explains the quality."
She laughed.
Alistair lay beside her and pulled the blankets over them both. Diana settled with her head against his chest. The silver ring rested on his still-warm skin.
"Are you happy?" Alistair asked.
Diana lifted her face.
"Very."
The simple answer struck him harder than any vow.
He kissed her forehead.
"So am I."
Diana closed her eyes, still smiling.
That night, Alistair fell asleep with his wife in his arms, surrounded by the ruins of the house where he had been born and by the first peace he had known since the castle fell.
The messenger arrived after dawn, before breakfast was served.
Alistair woke to hooves in the courtyard and voices near the old kitchen. A short while later, Graeme knocked on the door.
"News from the coast."
Alistair got out of bed and pulled on his léine. He tightened the cords at the throat and wrapped the plaid around himself. Diana tied back her hair with a ribbon, put on her gown, and went with him to the hall.
The wedding candles still stood in their holders. Some had gone out; others held small flames close to the wick. The central fire had burned down to embers, and morning light entered through the open sections of the roof.
The rider waited near the old entrance. Mud covered him to the knees, the wind had burned his face, and dried salt marked his boots.
"We reached the harbor after they sailed," he said. "The boat left the coast yesterday, before nightfall."
Graeme stepped closer.
"Who went aboard?"
"Lady Hawthorne, Boyd, two servants, and four men I didn't recognize."
"Where were they bound?" Alistair asked.
"The harbor clerk showed us the departure record. The vessel was cleared for the Irish coast. The arrival port wasn't listed on the copy he kept."
Penelope had hidden the final destination.
"What did they take?" Diana asked.
"Two dockworkers helped with the ordinary trunks. Lady Hawthorne would not let them touch a narrow case or two large leather bags. Boyd and his men carried everything into the cabin themselves."
"Did they describe the case?" Graeme asked.
"Long enough to hold parchments without folding them. The bags were full of papers. One of the dockworkers saw maps, route books, and documents tied with straps when one of them opened."
Wind crossed the hall.
Diana stood beside Alistair.
Penelope had taken more than the old MacLeod parchment. She had the passage maps, the route notes, property records, and documents gathered during months of conspiracy with Malcolm.
In the wrong hands, every page could expose roads, hiding places, and people who still believed themselves protected.
"Did you secure another boat?" Alistair asked.
"The tide prevented us from leaving during the night. A smaller vessel will be available at noon, but no one at the harbor could tell us which part of the Irish coast to search."
Graeme looked toward Eliza, who had just entered the hall.
She understood before anyone explained.
"Penelope reached Ireland."
"She is on her way," Diana corrected. "And she took all the documents."
Alistair's hand closed at his side.
Behind him, the first members of the clan were already returning to work among the ruins. Men carried stones. Women rekindled the fire. A child gathered sprigs of heather that had fallen from the benches during the celebration.
The castle was still broken.
The clan was still there.
Alistair looked at Diana.
"Then our next road crosses the sea."
She took his hand.
"And this time, you will not follow it without me."