The Highlander's Enchantment Read online

  “I’ll take good care of ye,” Agnes murmured.

  And surprisingly, she did. She helped Blair into a night rail, brushed out her hair, gave her a rinse for her mouth and wiped down her face with sweet-smelling water from where the wine had splashed.

  “Her ladyship here afore ye loved this herbal rose water for her face. What say ye?”

  “’Tis verra pleasant.”

  Agnes clucked her tongue again. “Good. I shall make certain ye’ve plenty.”

  The housekeeper was, it would seem, trying to mend the ill start they’d had. ’Haps she’d realized her antics at supper had been a bit too much, enough so that Blair could cause a stink that got her dismissed.

  In any case, it was nice to be pampered. It reminded Blair how much she missed her mother. Agnes tucked her into bed and Blair was so exhausted she didn’t argue that it wasn’t Edan’s bed. Through a foggy haze, she heard Agnes greet her husband in the solar adjoining their two chambers.

  This was all too easy, truly. How simple it will be to place the blame on someone else. Goodness, they are making it entirely too simple. All of them. Idiots.

  And this wee brat… Ha! She is an embarrassment to all women, thinking she’s one of us. I should have put more of my specialty into her stew. Let her retch a little longer.

  It makes me laugh that the laird has taken so long to figure out nothing. Perhaps I’ll add him to my list, too. But in the meantime, I’ve others to frame, and someone else to kill.

  She hid her smile as she slipped out of sight and back to her sleeping quarters. Once there, she reached beneath her cot, where she found a very special jar painted black as tar, the color of death and her dreams.

  Chapter 16

  The sound of Edan’s boots on her bedroom floor echoed in the chamber, waking Blair. She’d lain abed for over day but felt much recuperated now.

  “Ye’re awake.” He smiled down at her as he entered her chamber.

  Blair propped up on one elbow and fidgeted nervously with the cuff of her night rail.

  “How are ye feeling now?” He came close to the bed and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. His brow was wrinkled as he looked down at her. “Ye dinna feel feverish anymore.”

  “I’m feeling much better actually.” And that was the truth of it. She’d been able to purge whatever had caused her stomach upset, along with the rest of her stomach contents the day before, and the night before that, and rested without issue all night long, and throughout this morning. Agnes had brought her some porridge, and an herbal tea that made her feel divine. She’d had a bath—warm this time—and then gone back to bed for a small nap.

  “What do ye think caused it? Was it the food?” The latter he asked quite slowly, as if the notion only dawned on him as the words came out.

  She bit her lip and felt her face flush, not wanting to implicate anyone if it weren’t the case, for Agnes had been so kind to her, and the woman was already skating on thin ice with their laird. “Perhaps it was only nerves.”

  “Ah,” he said softly and sat down beside her on the bed. “Ye need not be afraid of me, lass.”

  “I’m not afraid of ye.”

  “That is good.” A small smile curled his lips. “I thought ’haps your nerves about…the bedding sent ye rushing off, until ye gained a fever and remained abed all day yesterday.”

  “I’m not afraid of the…bedding.” The way he spoke it was almost the answer she needed to know whether they’d lain together before.

  “I promise I will be as gentle as I can be with ye, lass.”

  She yearned to lean into him, to feel the press of his lips on hers. “I have no doubt.” Then before she lost her nerve, she rushed out, “Did we…at Castle Ross, after the feast…”

  He chuckled and tapped her on the tip of her nose. “Ye passed out like a drunken shepherd, sweetling, and so I put ye to bed.”

  “Oh.” She breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought mayhap I was a terrible wife for not remembering.”

  Edan leaned in close to her, his gray gaze locking on hers. “Trust me when I say, when we lay together, it will not be something ye forget.”

  A flutter started in her belly and worked its way upward, causing her breasts to feel heavy and ache. So strange the way her body reacted to him. And how very much she liked it.

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips on hers. “I’m sorry. I should leave ye to rest. Ye’re only just recovered and must be exhausted.”

  But she suddenly felt very much alive, and the only flutters in her belly now were of anticipation. “Nay… I want to… I want to go to your bed.”

  “We could stay here.” He traced his fingers along the length of her arm, and gooseflesh rose in the wake of his touch. “Seeing as how ye’re already abed.”

  The lightness of her night rail had her feeling very exposed, nearly naked. She was very much aware of his strength so close, and how he could rend the fabric with one tug. Oh, the thought of it sent a shiver racing from her breasts to the point between her legs, and she shuddered.

  “Ye’re not well. Ye’re shivering.” His brow wrinkled again, and he tucked the blankets closer around her.

  “’Tis not from feeling unwell, Husband. Just the opposite.”

  She thought the slow grin that curled his lips appeared very primal, indeed. His gray gaze singed her flesh. She had no idea what exactly he was thinking, as her experience in the bedchamber was nonexistence. But that look—and the promises it made—had her heart skipping a beat, and heat thrumming in her limbs.

  “Then with your permission…” He tugged at the laces of her night rail.

  “Ye’re my husband; ye need not ask permission.”

  “I will all the same, from this day until death do us part.” His voice was low, gravelly, sensual, and his breath skated over the skin he bared slowly to his view.

  He tugged the laces of her night rail open, exposing her chest all the way down to the center of her stomach, though her breasts were still barred from view by just a few inches of thin fabric. Her breath came faster, and the heated rake of his eyes was as sensual as his light caress. She had the sudden rush of a thought that she wanted him to expose her flesh; she wanted him to see her fully naked. To touch her.

  He leaned in again and captured her lips softly. The kiss was gentle at first, just a slide of his lips over hers. He tasted of whisky and spice and smelled of the fresh outdoors and leather. He licked along the seam of her lips and slipped inside when she parted them, curling the length of his tongue over hers. Slick velvet heat caressed her. Goodness, but she was losing her breath altogether. She touched her tongue to his, her heart pounding as she recalled just the way she’d kissed him in the tent. She sank into him as he touched her, laying featherlight strokes on her hair, her neck, her shoulders. He reached around the back of her, sliding his fingers down her spine and shoulder blades. Then he traced a path from her shoulders to her elbows, swirling in the creases before following the downward path to her hands, where he laced his fingers in hers. That simple act of holding hands was so incredibly sensual, Blair thought she’d never be able to do so again without first thinking of his kiss.

  He brought their joined hands up to his shoulders, unlaced their fingers, rested hers there and then took hold of her waist and pulled her even closer to him. The fabric of her night rail dipped open, and a rush of air touched the skin that had yet to be exposed, and then the rougher fabric of his leine was pressed to her chest, and she swore he could probably feel her heart beating against his own.

  Edan lifted one of her legs, placing it over his lap and causing her shift to rise up over her thigh. If their faces weren’t locked in a kiss, she was certain he would see the dark curls between her thighs. The very idea of him looking at her there sent a swirl of nerves racing through her. At the same time, it sent a frisson of yearning to that very central point.

  He slid a hand up her leg and over her knee, pausing there to draw light circles that made her gasp. No man ha
d ever seen her bare leg, let alone touched her. When she’d thought about the marriage bed, she hadn’t believed it could be so…tantalizing. Edan touched her everywhere, stroking, igniting something inside her that was powerful and overwhelming.

  When his fingers shifted upward, skating over her inner thigh, she made a move to clamp her legs closed, which was impossible since she was on his lap. .

  “’Tis all right,” he murmured against her lips, and then his fingers were delving higher and sweeping gently over the damp curls that hid her woman’s flesh, and she found herself scooting closer—wanting more.

  She suddenly desired his touch on her most intimate parts… Goodness, but it was…intoxicating. He slid the pad of one finger over her folds, touching a sensitive knot of flesh that made her gasp with pleasure. He stroked again, around in a circle, over and over until she could barely breathe. His tongue dove into her mouth, teasing the tip of her tongue before retreating and swirling in the same rhythm as his finger.

  Blair tightened her hold around his neck and held on as he swept her up into clouds of pleasure. And then, with the pad of his thumb still stroking that hot little bud, he dipped another of his fingers inside her just the barest of an inch. More pleasure spurred her toward something. She wasn’t certain toward what, but she knew she needed more of it. Her hips tucked forward in silent plea, and his fingers inched deeper and then out, swirling wetness over her folds. Oh, this was so very wicked, she was certain. What was he doing? Why did she crave more?

  His fingers worked magic on her, stroking, dipping, teasing, pleasuring. And like the wanton she was certain she was, Blair lapped it up with every stroke of her tongue on his.

  She cried out when her body burst into a thousand shards of decadent bliss, and she clung to him, both surprised and eager for more.

  “Aye, lass,” he murmured against her lips. “That’s it. Let go.”

  Oh, gone she was. Her breasts were tender, nipples aching points, and between her thighs was pulsing and slick, and although she’d just experienced the pinnacle of pleasure, she greedily wanted more.

  Edan laid her gently back on the bed at the same time he undid his belt and wrenched the fabric of his plaid away. He hooked her knees over his arms and guided them to wrap around his waist. The very heat of his hard body touched to her center, and she gasped in shock and pleasure.

  “I want ye, lass. I want ye so bad…”

  Lips pressed to her neck, he murmured of her beauty, the silkiness of her skin. He skimmed kisses over her collarbone and her breasts, flicking his tongue over her nipples.

  Blair moaned softly, arching her back. The same pleasure, the same need she’d felt with his fingers on her built, however impossible it seemed. And then he was kissing her again, rubbing the heat of his hard body against her, sliding the tip of his arousal against her. She’d not even seen what it looked like, but she could feel it, hard and hot pressed to her center.

  And then he was pressing forward, his hands gripping her buttocks as he lifted her and thrust inside.

  Pain erupted, and she cried out at the invasion of his body into hers. Fingers dug into his shoulders; eyes wide. He’d said it would hurt, and he’d not lied. How could something that was so pleasurable moments ago feel so… She wiggled beneath him, trying to ease the feeling of fullness inside her, and Edan groaned.

  “Please, lass, dinna move. I’m so sorry.” His forehead fell to hers, his tongue flicking over her lip before he captured her for a kiss that made her forget about the pain.

  Blair remained still as he instructed, trying to ignore the discomfort, to find pleasure once more in his kiss. Which she did…quickly forgetting anything but pleasure. When he started to move, slowly at first, she continued to remain still, but there was pleasure in his movements, made greater when she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts.

  Saints, but she liked the delicious sensations of his body sliding in and out of hers. The bed creaked with his movements, muffling the sounds of their bodies’ slickness, and drowned out only by their groans and pants of pleasure.

  “Mo chreach,” he groaned against her ear. “I canna wait.”

  Instinctively, she knew what he meant. He wanted that burst of pleasure that had knocked the breath from her before, too.

  “Aye,” she answered, wanting to hear him find his pleasure.

  His pace quickened, and when he cried out, his entire body seemed to shudder over her. Blair smiled into the crook of his shoulder. Pleased she could give him the same pleasure he’d given her.

  When the shudders of his body subsided, he rolled away from her, went to the wash basin and dipped a cloth into the leftover rose water. He brought it back to the bed and slid it between her thighs, which still pulsed.

  She shivered, surprised her body still wanted more.

  “Lass…that was beautiful,” he murmured, pressing her thighs apart. “But I fear I finished too soon.”

  “Nay, it was beautiful, as ye said.”

  He grinned. “But ye didna find your pleasure a second time.”

  “Neither did ye.”

  He winked down at her. “My wife shall find hers twice.”

  “What?” she whispered, as he slid lower on the bed and pressed his mouth to where he’d just washed her.

  Blair nearly came off the bed as the heat of his tongue stroked over her pulsing flesh, and the sensations he’d created in her a moment ago came to life once more.

  “Delicious,” he crooned against her flesh as he tasted her, devoured her.

  Blair bowed her back, legs fallen open and hands thrust in his hair as he brought her once more to that place where she knew not breath or heartbeat, only rapture.

  Before dawn had a chance to sneak her pink light through the fur skin covering his wife’s window, Edan reluctantly dragged himself from her bed. It was an effort to disentangle her warm limbs from his, and she made a soft whimper of protest before rolling over and curling up in sleep once more.

  As much as he wanted to stay abed, there was much work to be done since he’d been gone. A missive had arrived from the king requesting the prisoners he’d been holding be transported to Stirling. The king would discern if they were involved with the other sycophants from the former Ross clan, fighting for their laird and assassinating leaders aligned with the Bruce. It would appear his brother was not the only one to have been murdered.

  And so, after washing and dressing, Edan took one last look at the bride who had surprised the hell out of him and left the chamber. He needed to round up his prisoners and he needed a message delivered to Liam Sutherland, who was also working on clearing his name. The Sutherlands needed to know that the ring of traitors extended far beyond what they’d originally thought.

  Chapter 17

  Sun filtered through the bedchamber window, and Blair smiled as she stretched, eyes still closed as she relived some of the moments from the night before. Edan had been so gentle with her and seen to her pleasure again and again. Either he was special, or women tended to keep secret how wonderful the marriage bed could be.

  Now she understood the looks she’d seen Cora giving Liam, and the way her own sisters stared at their husbands. Her whole body ached, but not in a way she didn’t like. And any of the sickness she’d felt before Edan had come to her chamber was completely gone.

  She sat up, tossed back the covers and blanched.

  A red stain marred the sheets from their lovemaking. Her virgin’s blood.

  Embarrassed, she made quick work of stripping the bed and balling up the linens. One of the maids would still likely see the evidence of their consummation, but at least not so blatantly on display.

  Blair shivered in the drafty chamber. She’d not needed a fire to warm their chilly room the night before, because the heat they’d created together had been plenty. But without Edan’s big, warm body surrounding her, the draft in the room overpowered her. She tiptoed over to the hearth and was going to light the fire when she realized she’d be better off simply dress
ing and going down to where there was an even larger fire in the great hall’s hearth to break her fast.

  She washed quickly, truly enjoying the scented water Agnes had left in the basin…and then she shivered. Not from cold, however, but from the scent of the floral water drawing her memory back to the night before, when Edan had pressed his mouth to the very heat of her.

  Just the thought of it had frissons of need coursing through her and pinning her in place. Her nipples tightened, and she shivered. Aye, that was incredible.

  Who’d have thought that the Blair who followed the rules and did everything she was supposed to, Blair the Peacemaker, would also be Blair the Lusty Bride.

  She chuckled to herself and then brushed out the knots in her hair created from the friction of her head moving against the mattress as they’d made love. She replaited it, tied it off with a pretty blue ribbon and then opened her trunks to pull out a gown.

  But the trunks were empty, filled only with an extra pair of boots, several chemises and her cloak.

  She frowned and moved to the wardrobe, where she found her gowns all hanging, save the one that needed to be cleaned. She dressed quickly in a light blue gown, wishing she had a strip of Rose plaid to tie in the center. She’d have to make certain to get some later.

  Descending the stairs, she passed two maids heading up to the bedchambers to clean. They gave her surreptitious looks, whispered something and hurried past.

  Blair frowned. It sounded very much like they’d just called her a “whore.” But how could that be? She had to have heard wrong. Of course she’d misheard; there was no way on this earth they would call her such, because she wasn’t, and also because of the extreme disrespect such an insult presented.

  In the great hall, Edan was nowhere to be found. Given that his side of the bed had been cold that morning, she guessed he’d long since broken his fast, before getting to work on his laird’s duties.