Seven

The Gunns were happy to see their chief return.

Brenda heard the bells ringing in the towers as they were sighted on the road. By the time they made it to the yard, it was full of women eager to greet their men and children laughing as they spied their fathers.

Joy.

One she’d done a lot to destroy since Bothan had first brought her to the stronghold.

She slid off her mare and did her best to conceal how much she wanted to flinch over the open happiness around her. Guilt was weighing her down.

Ye were hoping things might resolve themselves?

Well, if she had been holding out hope for a way to stay with Bothan, one look at his back as he took his horse to the stable without a single glance toward her was enough to remind her of all the harsh realities between them.

He had to do what was best for his people.

And that wasn’t keeping her there when the Campbells weren’t going to leave her in peace.

She gave a little grunt of frustration and went to seek out the tower chamber. In the morning, there would be another week of long, hard riding for her. She should take the comfort there was to be enjoyed while she might.

It was best to forget about the things that could never be.

* * *

Brenda didn’t wake until well into the night. The towers had quieted down, the fires burning low. Her belly rumbled low and long.

She sat up because there was no going back to sleep as hunger gnawed at her insides. The moon was full, allowing her to make her way down the steps and through the passageways well enough. The two boys who worked in the kitchens were asleep along the edge of the kitchen wall on pallets they kept rolled up during the day.

Brenda stepped carefully, reaching for some bread left on the table. A hunk of cheese was there as well and a bowl of newly harvested berries. She gathered up the food and turned around to retrace her steps.

Bothan stood behind her, just as dark and huge as the first time she’d seen him.

The bowl slipped from her distracted fingers. He moved in a flash, swooping close to catch the pottery before it smashed against the floor.

She let out a little sound of astonishment as he succeeded.

And then she trembled as the scent of his skin filled her head.

How had she thought she could live without him?

When have ye ever been able to tell yerself how to feel about him?

She smiled, enjoying the jest at her own expense. Bothan looked at her, appearing shocked by the smile on her lips. For the first time since they’d left Sutherland Castle, his lips twitched up into the grin she’d come to expect from him.

But he caught her wrist and turned around before she could investigate the reaction further. He pulled her along, retracing her steps up to his chamber.

“I suppose I should have thought to have some food put in yer room for when ye woke,” he said once they’d made it back inside the chamber.

“Do nae worry,” she assured him. “I can see to me own needs.”

He contemplated her for a moment before he nodded and turned to leave.

“Stay with me,” she said. The words just crossed her lips. Even her pride had melted away beneath the weight of her need to have him. “I know I’m too much trouble to keep.” She dropped the food on a table. “And ye can send me away in the morning, but no one will know if ye stay with me now.”

She was begging.

And she didn’t care what he thought of it.

Bothan snapped back around to peg her with a hard gaze. She felt it jab into her as surely as she might have a dagger.

“I’ve caused ye too much trouble,” she conceded. “Little wonder ye want me on my way.”

His eyes widened. “How could ye want me, Brenda?”

Bothan moved toward her, grasping her forearms as he looked down into her startled face.

“I failed to protect ye on me own land!” he hissed. “Worse still, I knew the way back but chose to seduce ye instead of making certain ye were safe!”

He released her, as though he’d just realized he’d grabbed her. “I am no’ worthy of ye, Brenda.”

Shock held her silent. Bothan was seething, but she suddenly realized it was with self-loathing. He took her silence as confirmation, turning away in disgust.

“Husband,” Brenda called after him.

He froze in the doorway, standing for a moment that felt like an hour before he faced her.

“I’m a lot of trouble,” Brenda began as she stepped toward him. “Ye followed me to England when I told ye I would no’ have ye.”

He’d turned all the way around and stood contemplating her.

“I bedded ye and still demanded to be set free when me cousin Symon arrived,” she continued.

“Ye did,” Bothan agreed.

She stepped up so she needed to tip her head back to maintain eye contact with him. “So if ye set yer mind to seduce me, it would seem I’m as much to blame as ye are for what happened.”

He shook his head. “On my land…” Bothan began to move toward her. She fell back a step and then another. “I am chief…”

“Aye,” she agreed, still moving backward.

“I put ye at risk, Brenda,” he growled. “And ye have the right to reject me over it.”

The bed was close behind her. Bothan had backed her nearly all the way to it. She reached out and grabbed his shirtfront.

“I am cursed,” she said.

He grinned at her, the same arrogant curving of his lips he’d first flashed at her at the harvest festival when they’d met.

“You’re interesting, lass,” he muttered as he reached out to touch her hair. “I expect nothing less of a redhead. Nature marked ye for all to see, and I did follow ye all the way to England without a care for knowing ye were no’ going to ever be boring.”

His words soothed the wounds she’d been licking for the past week, filling her with a sensation she’d never expected to encounter in a life filled with harsh realities.

“I love ye, Bothan Gunn.” She pulled on his shirt and heard the seams protesting. “And I am no’…no’ going anywhere.”

He caught her up against him, giving her a taste of his strength as he tilted his head to one side. “Ye’re going to bed, lass. My bed.”

Bothan scooped her up, but he didn’t hurry to the bed. He held her against his chest, allowing her to feel his heart beating while their breaths mingled. She reached up and laid her hand against the side of his face, delighting in the feeling of their flesh meeting.

“I love ye, Brenda,” he muttered softly. “Ye’ve heard me pledge me life to ye, but it’s me heart that had me following ye to England.”

“And it’s my heart that will no’ allow ye to be a stubborn fool and send me away,” she answered.

He started to speak, but she pressed a fingertip against his lips.

“Take me to bed, husband. We’ve done enough talking,” she implored him.

“Aye, lass, we have indeed.”

* * *

The window shutters were still open.

Brenda stirred at first light as the summer sun came into the room. For a moment, she felt fear stalking her with doubt that the night before had been only the longing of her heart.

The cock at the far end of the yard started to crow.

“I’m thinking of asking Alba for chicken for supper,” Bothan grumbled beside her.

The fowl in the yard continued to greet the morning as Bothan stirred behind her. He reached out and slid his hand along her hip and across her lower belly as he came close.

She shivered. The connection between their bare flesh sent a jolt through her system.

“Hmm,” Bothan muttered against her ear as he cupped her bare breast and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps that bird might become me best friend if it wakes me early enough to enjoy ye before the rest of the men have thought to look for me.”

He was hard and ready, his member teasing her backside. Brenda rubbed her bottom against it, earning a husky chuckle from her bed partner.

His hand slid lower, teasing her curls before dipping into her folds to rub her little pearl.

“Say it again,” Bothan implored her.

“Confess I am cursed and far too much trouble to keep around?” Brenda teased him.

He bit her neck in reprimand, just a nip that sent a twist of anticipation through her belly.

“Ye know the word I long to hear, Brenda.” He rolled her over, coming up to settle between her thighs.

She opened her legs for him, purring with delight as his weight pressed her down, but he held back from giving her the final thing she wanted, capturing her wrists when she slid her hands down his back and tried to press him forward with a hand on each of his hips.

“Say it,” he rasped, his tone betraying how much effort it was costing him to hold back.

Brenda lifted her eyelids and locked gazes with him. Demand glittered in his eyes, just as hard and relentless as the day she’d first denied him. She curled her fingers into talons and felt her fingernails sink into his skin. His lips thinned with enjoyment as his eyes narrowed with determination.

“Husband,” she muttered huskily.

He thrust forward, filling her.

“Husband…” she said louder as he started to move.

Her body was quick to build toward a peak. The bed ropes groaned as Bothan rode her harder and faster in pursuit of satisfaction. She let her eyes slide shut, surrendering completely to the moment and the man she trusted more than herself.

But at the moment she felt it all breaking loose inside her, Brenda opened her eyes and locked gazes with her partner.

“Husband!” she declared.

Bothan growled his approval as pleasure tore through her. She was clenching him tightly between her thighs, lifting up and off the bed to take him as deep as possible.

And he was thrusting into her, riding her through the moment before spilling his seed.

* * *

“I’m famished,” Bothan declared as he watched her try to finish dressing. “And yet the thought of telling ye to hurry up and cover those plump tits seems misplaced.”

Brenda sent him a glare. “Ye can no’ be ready for another round just—”

She bit back her last word as he raised an eyebrow.

“That was no’ a challenge.” She pulled her lace through an eyelet so fast it snapped.

“An honest mistake.” Bothan shrugged into his doublet. “Ye do tend to toss out the barbed comments…wife.”

Brenda shrugged and finished dressing. Her own belly was rumbling. The food she’d collected from the kitchen the night before was on the table where they’d both forgotten it. Bothan captured her hand and took her down the steps toward the hall, where the scent of porridge was very welcome.

Alba was ladling out portions of it to a line of men waiting to break their fast.

“Good,” Maddox said as he spied Bothan and Brenda. The captain let out a whistle. “Leif! Get the lads up to see what is wrong with the laird’s chamber door. For some reason…” Maddox looked at Bothan. “It seems the damned thing will no’ close, and let out every noise all through the night. I did no’ get a single wink of sleep!”

Brenda lost her grip on her bowl. Once again, Bothan caught the pottery before it ended up smashing onto the floor.

“Yer face is the same color as yer hair,” Bothan whispered as he set the bowl down on a table.

He kissed her cheek as his men dissolved into laughter at their expense. Bothan settled beside her as the Gunn retainers joined them.

“Do nay take offense, Brenda.” Bothan patted her thigh beneath the tabletop. “Maddox is just having a wee bit of fun.”

Brenda turned a smile toward her husband. “Let him.”

Bothan offered her a smile before he turned to enjoy his meal. Brenda looked at the men and women of the Gunn clan. They were practical. Pretense and ceremony were minimal, and she loved it more than any castle or palace she’d ever attended.

It would seem she was home at long last.

* * *

It would be dark soon.

Brenda drew in a deep breath, savoring the scent of Gunn land. Alba had rung the supper bell some time ago. Brenda had watched the Gunn people moving toward the towers and smiled. Now the light was gone, making the windows in the tower glow in the night.

Home…

Tears burned her eyes, but she smiled as joy felt like it was radiating from inside her.

“What are ye doing out here, wife?” Bothan asked.

Brenda cast a look behind her, watching her husband climb the incline she was standing atop. The evening wind tried to tug on her cloak as she locked gazes with him.

“Do nae ye recall, Bothan?” she asked him sweetly.

He was close now, awakening her senses with his presence. She inclined her head toward the rising moon.

“Did I no’ promise to do me best to no’ disappoint ye…husband?” Brenda asked him.

His lips curved up as his expression showed her how much he enjoyed hearing her call him husband. He cupped her hips, coming up behind her.

“Aye, I remember,” Bothan whispered against her ear.

He pressed a kiss against her throat that sent a shiver down her back. Brenda let the moment engulf her.

“So let us return to our bed…wife.” Bothan encouraged her by pulling her tighter against him.

Brenda turned so she was facing him. An eyebrow lifted as he took in her expression.

“I could no’ leave ye holding out hope any longer,” Brenda informed him huskily. “After all, ye spoke so brazenly to me at that market fair because ye had heard the gossip about me.”

“I did,” Bothan declared as he crossed his arms over his chest. “So what is yer plan, lass?”

Brenda smiled broadly as she stepped back. “I’m going to dance naked under the full moon, of course!”

She released the hold she had on her cloak and shrugged out of the garment. Bothan’s face filled with enjoyment as his lips thinned with hunger.

“No’ if I catch ye first!” Bothan declared.

Brenda turned and ran. Her husband was fighting to free himself from his clothing. They left a trail of garments behind them before she squealed as he clamped his arms around her waist and lifted her high, turning around with her as the yellow light from the full moon bathed them both.

Aye, she was home.

And the journey to find it had been worth it.