Leaving Rose Citadel and Lord Yves’s domain was a lot easier than Clara would have ever imagined. Alan gathered her things, including her hawk. Her maid was paid well to pretend Clara was ill in bed and couldn’t come to the feast, and off they went with Alan, Lachlan and Duncan on horseback.
The three men with them had also managed to procure a few extra provisions for the Sutherland clan, which were being transported on three additional horses. How they came by the horses and provisions, Clara wasn’t certain, and she didn’t want to ask, for she was convinced whoever woke up tomorrow and found their things gone might just chase after them.
They rode hard and for a long distance, leaving Clara sore from never having to do so before, and quite often, she found herself in Graham’s lap, which was perfectly fine with her. Her hawk proudly took over her seat each time she vacated the saddle. Though they’d yet to say their vows before a priest, they were in mind and body already united. If Baston Ross, or God forbid Clara’s mother, came for her, they could argue their marriage was already consummated.
However, they had also decided that when they reached Sutherland lands, they would officially declare before one and all in Graham’s birthplace their eternal commitment.
The journey north took nearly two weeks. Several days they’d had to take up the hospitality of clans along the way because of rain, and in those moments when they’d stopped, she and Graham had claimed to be husband and wife, and then were given a room together where they made love until they both passed into a deep sleep.
Clara had been nervous about traveling so far up into the Highlands, simply from the stories she’d heard of Highlanders and warriors being complete savages—not only from when she was a child, but from whispers at the tournament too. But for her part, every Scot besides the Rosses that she’d come into contact with had been perfectly charming.
And so, she was pleasantly surprised to find they had no trouble on their journey. It was obvious that Graham and his brother were well respected; or else, he’d only taken them on a path through clan lands that were on their side. That made more sense. Graham was not an idiot and had said many times that he would protect her with his dying breath.
Of course, she prayed it didn’t come to that. She’d much rather they both live to be old with their grandchildren running amuck around them. The very thought of that made her smile, and she snuggled closer on Graham’s lap, the temperature in the Highlands having sunk several degrees from what it had been in England.
“We’re almost home,” he whispered against her ear.
Home…
Clara perked up, excited to see the place where Graham had roamed as a child and grown into a man. “Do you think they will… like me?” She felt silly for asking the question, but she couldn’t not ask.
She was an outsider, infiltrating a tightly knit, struggling clan, and here she was bringing in riches. That wouldn’t exactly make people act genuinely toward her at first, a notion that upset her greatly. She wanted to befriend Graham’s people, embrace them as her own. “I do not want them to think me snobbish.”
Graham chuckled. “No one who ever meets ye will think ye snobbish. They will all love ye as I do.” He sounded so confident.
“Are ye certain?”
“Aye, and if anyone wishes to challenge me on it, I will welcome the fight.”
Clara turned around to look at him, stricken at the idea of him fighting over her anymore. “Oh, nay, do not fight on my account.”
“Ye’re to be my wife. I’ll fight for ye every day for the rest of our lives.”
She pressed her palm to his cheek. “My champion, but nay, I will not allow it. I shall challenge them myself.”
“To a battle of wits? They will surely lose.” He winked.
Clara shook her head. “I am also good with an arrow.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye. We can have a competition, you and me.” The very idea sent a thrill of excitement through her. This was a dream she’d had often as a child: one day, she’d challenge a handsome knight to a contest of skills. But how much more wonderful it was that the man captured her heart and that when they were done, they could kiss and make love.
“I fear already ye have beat me.”
She laughed. “How is that?”
“Ye beat me at wits, and I fell for ye when ye rolled your eyes and practically called me a dog. How am I to go up against ye with weapons? Besides, I’ll be too busy staring at your breasts and wondering when I can take ye back to our chamber and make ye swoon.”
Clara playfully swatted at him. “I dare you and you cannot back away from a dare, sir. Do I need to take off my glove formally?”
“Take everything off,” he growled wickedly into her ear. “Every single stitch, and we shall do this battle naked.”
“Ye know we can hear ye?” Duncan said, sarcasm dripping from his words.
Graham chuckled and urged his mount ahead. “Stay back there,” he called over his shoulder.
The howling laughter of the men followed them as they put distance between them. Heat suffused Clara’s face, and though she was embarrassed that their conversation had been overheard, all she wanted to do was kiss Graham, no matter who saw.
“Now, what was I saying?” Graham teased.
“Something about being naked.”
“Ah, aye, I canna wait to have ye in my bed, naked.”
“Morning, noon and night.”
Some hours later, Graham nudged Clara awake. “We’re here.”
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, sitting up on their shared mount as they passed through a small village and down a long winding road with a keep at the end. The salty scent of the sea blew on the breeze, and she breathed in deep.
“I’d not realized you were by the sea,” she said.
“Aye. I’ll take ye down to the beach later if ye like. And our chambers overlook the water, so ye’ll be able to see it anytime ye like.”
“I should like that very much. In Normandy, we were several hours’ ride from the sea.”
As their horses trekked down the road, people came out of houses, workshops, and in from the fields, their eyes scanning the group, some with worried expressions, others with joy. Clara’s heart went out to them all for the tragedy they’d suffered throughout the years.
“Where is your brother?” someone called out.
“Cormac, our chieftain, will be home soon with his bride,” Graham called back. “And I would verra much like to introduce all of ye to mine, Lady Clara. Come to the castle, and we shall celebrate. Spread the word to Sutherlands all around!” These were lines repeated as they traveled down the road until they had a trail of people chasing after them.
At the foot of the keep, servants and clan elders met them. Graham leapt from the horse, reaching to take her down with him. He held her arm up and loudly proclaimed, “Lady Clara de Montfort, my bride-to-be. We shall wed in view of all the Sutherland clan, and when my brother returns, we shall celebrate again with his bride.”
“We are saved?” a gray-haired man with bushy brows asked.
“Aye, we are saved.”
“She’s smiling,” said a little lad, pointing right at Clara. His red hair was wild upon his head, and he had a smudge of dirt on his nose as if he’d been pulled from a wild game to come and see them home. “Why is she smiling?”
His mother tried to shush him, but Clara only laughed. “I’m smiling because I’m happy,” she replied.
“How can ye be happy? My da said ye’d be howling like my bairn sister.” The wee lad scrunched up his nose in confusion.
“Where is your da?” Graham said with a low growl in his voice, but Clara pressed her hand on his arm, passing him a tender smile.
“Your da was likely teasing, wee thing,” Clara said, kneeling down to get on eye level with him.
“Nay, he said all brides holler, especially English ones.”
Clara tried hard to keep in her laughter since the lad was so very serious. “Well, you see, that is where we are lucky then, for I am not all the way English. I am also French. But I shall let you in on a little secret. You see, this man Graham, I love him, and so I will not holler about being wed with him. I will sing with joy.”
The lad looked horrified. “I hope you can sing well then because my da said—”
The lad’s mother put her hand over his mouth. “We are so verra happy to welcome ye to the clan. I’m Bessie. I help in the kitchens.”
“Thank you,” Clara said, and looked about the clan. They were perhaps a little thin, a little harried in testament to how much they’d been through, but they looked happy. They were good people. Giving each other the support and care they needed. They looked out for one another, still found joy in the life that they’d been blessed to keep. This was just more evidence that Graham and Cormac had done all they could to make sure their people suffered as little as possible.
Despite the hardships the people had endured, they had faith. They had hope.
Graham slipped his hand in hers. “We invite ye all to celebrate with us, for we are so verra happy.” He leaned in then and planted a kiss on her lips in full view of everyone.
Clara’s first instinct was to pull away, but the moment she felt the warmth of his lips on hers, she melted into him. She was pretty certain right then and there that kissing Graham would never be boring, and she’d never resist, and that he could kiss her as much as he wanted in front of whoever he wanted for the rest of their days.
The people filed inside the great hall, and Graham ordered casks of ale and wine to be opened from their stores. Meanwhile, Duncan, Lachlan and Alan passed out some of the treats they’d brought back from England—candied almonds and dried figs. Sacks of grain, peas and salted pork were passed off to the kitchen to make a fine pea and pork stew with freshly baked bread.
Men and women brought their children with small gifts from their own kitchens, and they spent hours talking to everyone. Clara tried to remember names and faces and was exceedingly pleased with the way everyone was so welcoming. She’d been worried about how they would accept her. And it made her all the more grateful to Graham for the way he showed her off with pride.
She was certain her fate at the Ross holding would have been entirely different. Here, she didn’t even get the feeling that the people were nice to her because of the wealth she would bring to their clan, but because they loved Graham, and by extension, would love who he loved.
That night, having had a little bit too much wine, Graham escorted Clara to his bedchamber, which she would sleep in alone that night. Both of them stumbled across the threshold, laughing like children.
“Why can you not stay here with me?” she asked, flinging her arms around his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her in close. “Because we’ve no’ yet wed, and I’d hate to ruin your reputation.”
“We spent plenty of time together on the road, your men were there, what is different about now?”
Graham shrugged, a teasing tilt to his lips. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”
“I am already very fond of your heart.” She pressed her lips to his, coaxing him into a deep kiss.
The fresh tub of warm water that had been placed in the center of Graham’s bedchamber for washing was extremely tempting, especially with Clara in his arms. Graham had not exactly told her the entire truth. This was his chamber, and given they’d already announced they were to wed, and he’d brought her back here, there was no measure of propriety the people were taking. In fact, he’d planned to sleep in his brother’s bed simply for the sake of… what? Imagined rules?
On the morrow, they would wed at the Sutherland kirk, vows they’d already told each other repeated in front of everyone.
What would it hurt to make love to her now, in this chamber that would be theirs, the night before they were to wed? Why did it feel like he was tempting fate? Kissing her, touching her, loving her and soaking in her moans of pleasure at Rose Citadel, and on the road back to Sutherland had been incredible, and so far, removed from his home that he’d not had any qualms about it.
Now, it felt like if he were to spread her out on his bed before the deed was said and done, he would be jinxing them both.
There was still a good chance that Baston Ross would come after them both too, out of revenge. Not that sleeping here versus his brother’s room would make much of a difference if his enemy did decide to come knocking, but he’d be more alert in his brother’s room than if he were here with her, his attention entirely centered on the spot between her legs.
“Just for a little while,” she crooned against his lips. “You can leave if you choose… after.”
All the blood in his body surged to his groin, flaring his cock out toward her body in an answer he couldn’t control.
“Ye tempt me.”
“I’m supposed to.” She led him to the tub, stripping him out of his clothes while he stood helpless to stop her, and not wanting to at all.
Then she gave him her back, and he helped her out of her clothes until they were both standing nude before each other.
“The tub is not big enough for us both,” he said. “Ye go first, and I’ll wash ye.”
She agreed and climbed into the tub, shivering as the water slipped up over her skin. Graham used a small ball of scented soap to wash her skin, sliding his hands over her curves and dips, his fingers between her thighs. Her head fell back, and she moaned as he circled the little nub of pleasure, unable to help himself. He captured her mouth in a heated kiss as he massaged her sex until she cried out against his mouth.
“Your turn,” she said, climbing from the tub, her skin flushed red from pleasure.
Graham eagerly replaced where she’d been in the water and leaned back as she worked her soapy hands all over his body. His cock jutted from the water, demanding attention, and she gave it to him. Wrapping her hand around his shaft, she worked him up and down, until he stood up abruptly out of the water, the need to plant himself inside her strong.
But before he could lift his leg over the rim of the tub, his defiant wee lass dropped to her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth.
Graham’s knees nearly buckled at the shock of her tongue and the warm cavern of her mouth on his sensitive flesh.
“Clara…” he groaned.
This was an act they’d not yet tried, and she’d gone into it eagerly, unabashedly, and good God… she was magnificent.
Graham threaded his fingers in her hair, his eyes closing, head falling back until he could take the torment no more. He tugged her away from him, climbed from the tub, and lifted her into the air, her legs wrapping around his hips as he carried her to the bed.
Their mouths clashed together, her arms around his shoulders, and as they fell to the surface of the mattress, he entered her body in one swift move. They both cried out as he buried himself into her, his body pressing her firmly down, and she wrapping herself around him.
With practiced ease and passion, they came together, their bodies colliding over and over until they were both crying out in release.
As they lay together in bed, his soon-to-be wife wrapped in his arms, Graham knew this was the right place to be. Propriety and superstitions be damned. When he was with Clara, he felt whole, and it would be a torment to be away from her.
They made love throughout the night. And in the morning, they both woke to make love one more time before cleaning themselves up and preparing for their wedding. Clara was giddy with excitement. Though they’d declared themselves to each other over and over again, today would be the day that they did so in front of one and all. It would be official—she would be his wife. In the great hall, the women presented Clara with a crown of wildflowers that she placed on her head.
Hand in hand, they walked to the kirk, giddy like two adolescents about to make their dreams come true. The clan had gathered, cheering them on the way to the kirk. And as they stood before each other repeating their vows, another cheer went up at the back of the crowd, catching their attention.
Cormac and Isolde rode into the bailey, smiles on their faces. But perhaps the best part of that reunion was when Pip and Alan spotted each other. They ran toward one another as though they’d been separated by years and not a matter of weeks. Alan bent down to his knees, and Pip leapt up into his arms, licking him all over his face.
“’Tis about time ye arrived,” Graham called to his brother.
“At least one of us will witness the vows of the other,” Cormac replied, leaping from his horse. He took down his bride, and they joined Graham and Clara, standing as witnesses as they continued their vows.
Finally, they arrived at Graham’s favorite part—the kiss.
Hands around Clara’s waist, he tugged her close, then dipped her backward over his arm, and claimed her mouth in a carnal, possessive kiss that left him hard and wanting. She shivered in his arms, and he knew her body was answering the call, but they had to wait just a little bit longer, for he’d set up a surprise for his bride.
“Come, one and all, for I’ve got a surprise for my wife!” Graham led them down to the beach, where the waves crashed against the shore and birds called overhead.
Set up beside each other, several dozen paces away, were two targets and pressed into the sand at their feet were bows and arrows.
“Are you going to undress?” Clara teased, joy creasing the corners of her eyes.
“Only if ye do,” he taunted back.
Cormac interrupted. “Please, the both of ye, remain clothed for our sakes.”
Graham tilted his head back and laughed. “I’ve invited ye all here to watch my lovely wife kick my arse in archery practice.”
Clara gave a mocking gasp. “Why, Graham, you’ve never seen me shoot. I could have only been jesting about knowing what to do.”
“And I could have been jesting about being terrible.” He winked at her, a challenge in his grin that she matched.
They raced to pick up their bows, knocking their arrows and taking aim. They both hit the bullseye on the target, the first, second and third time. On the fourth shot, Clara knocked two arrows and hit not only her center target but his as well. That sent up a deafening cheer, and Cormac declared her the winner.
Graham lifted her into the air, swinging her around in a circle and pressed his lips to hers. “I told ye ye’d kick my arse.”
“Then ’tis a good thing we’re on the same team.” She grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair the way she liked to do.
“Och, lass, there was never any other team I wanted to be on.” Graham rubbed his nose against hers and brushed his mouth on her soft lips.
“Aye, two heads are better than one, and I happen to love yours verra much.” She giggled with joy.
“I love ye too, with every inch of my being.”