Chapter 17
Sandra tried to look calm and at ease with a slight smile on her face, but the silence in the hall was growing with every droplet of wax that fell from the candles lighting the walls and Lex still had not appeared for the meal.
He had returned home from his visit to her father hours ago and headed straight up to his chamber without a word to anyone or even a glance at the tidy hall they had all worked on so hard all day. The foul curses that came from the room after the door slammed were warning enough to anyone contemplating speaking to him.
"Damn it all!" came another bellow from above that enlarged the eyes of everyone at the tables. They looked up the ominous stairs and then over to her with pity in their eyes.
"Worry not, lovie," Corkie consoled her with a flippant swish of her hand. "Men will curse and piss till they are blue in the mug but they always show their grins again when ya get them alone."
"I doubt we will get to the alone part tonight," Sandra said with a mix of relief and regret.
"Here he comes now," Rory announced in a low tone as a warning to her.
Her back straightened in tension and she nervously rubbed at her chapped hands under the table, causing her to wince with pain. His door flung open with a crash and even though she had her back to the stairs, she knew exactly what his dark visage must have looked like.
Expressions of wide-eyed shock blinked over the faces of those who sat across from her as they watched him descend. The exaggerated pounding of each of his steps as he made his way slowly down to the hall was one more indication of his mood. Every hair on the back of her neck stuck out straight; even the curls she left dangling around her face seemed to feel further away. It was like waiting in the dark for the attack of an animal you could not see but that could definitely see you.
Suddenly, a large wooden box slammed down on the table next to her, rattling the bowls and trenchers to nearly tipping, and indisputably announced his arrival. She stared at the box with its odd English lettering scrolled into the weathered wooden slats. It was safer to pretend interest in something she could not even read than have to face another black scowl he was so fond of bestowing on her alone.
He said nothing at all and he did not move. He just stood there at the edge of the table facing her with his fingers gripped tightly in the hand-holes of the box she transfixed with her full attention. His presence, as always, immediately established its control over her senses. Her breath became irregular and forced, her eyes were frozen on the dark script but wanting desperately to look at him, and her hands were clenched in a painful grasp around each other to control the shaking that was already traveling up her arms. What did he want from her? Why was he just standing there?
One large hand uncurled from the hole in the wooden side of the box and reached out the short distance to her face. With a gentle touch that was even more frightening because it was unexpected, he lifted her chin up slowly. It was like a confusing dream that she had no control over as her eyes made the long journey up his massive body to his face. What she saw along the way explained without words why the others had been dumbfounded as well.
"Do you like it?" he asked with a smile that curved his lips into a tempting invitation for a kiss. She could not answer. Her eyes had to scan over him one more time to make sure she was not really dreaming. "I know I have not gotten it quite right, but it is the best I could remember of pleating these garments."
"You look...like my MacLachlan dream," she breathed out in amazement as her eyes made their way back up to his face from the muscular bare legs sticking out beneath his MacLachlan tartan. She had not meant to say that, but the thought just rolled from her tongue without the use of her head. "I mean...you look like a man from the Highlands..." she tried to correct her embarrassing statement but only seemed to make things worse. His broadening smile across that handsome face made any further attempts futile.
"And you are most definitely any man’s Highland dream." He held her in his warm stare with the ease of a hunter aligning his quiver on a doe's heart. His fingers left a tingling path under her chin as he pulled them away.
"What ya got trapped in that box?" Oran yelled from down the table. "Are ya goin' ta share it or just tease us all night like a woman?"
There was silence across the room as Lex looked from her to Oran. A mischievous grin pulled at one side of his mouth and the rest of the clan joined in with relieved chuckles of their own. "Of course I will be sharing this with you. I am celebrating tonight." Sandra felt her heart flip in her chest as she continued to stare at the wonderful changes a mere tartan could do for a true chieftain. He was not angry after all, he was happy and ready to celebrate. Her inner hopes were that she was part of the reason for his festive mood. Their time shared at the hunting lodge this morning had been enlightening, to say the least. He was vulnerable, she learned. He was capable of emotions. He was deserving of love. Looking at him in his proud plaid with his smile stretched wide in genuine happiness, it was easy for her to hope...to dream.
"Your trip to see my father was fruitful then?" she asked shyly, wanting all the details of the story she had heard from Iain thus far, but knowing at the same time it was a sensitive topic for Lex.
"Your father has granted my wishes, my lady," Lex answered her in a loud declaration of his feelings. He flipped back the lid of the box and pulled out a brown glass bottle in each of his fists. "Tonight we celebrate with the best England has to offer." He raised the bottles high over his head and cheers came from the clan. "Tonight you are a free woman again and I am a free man, thanks to the MacEwen!"
A loud cheer went up in response to Lex's toast, but it tapered off to a buzzing hum as his clan realized what his freedom was from. Not one sound came from Sandra's mouth. How could he come down looking so magnificent, like her Highland dream, and then celebrate the end of their marriage as if he had been freed from a sentence of death?
"Have a drink, lovie," Corkie said, shoving a mug at her. "There will not be much left once it makes it to that other end of the table, and this one box be all Lexxie brought with him." Corkie was apparently as happy to be rid of her as he was.
Aware that his joyous sentiment had not been shared by all, Lex quickly added, "This is Sandra's wish as well. She is free now to marry whichever MacLachlan she wishes."
Sandra swallowed the thick lump in her throat that felt like a loaf-end one might find in the bottom of a saddle sack after a month of travel. The delicate taste of the wine in her mug could not wash away the hurt of his news, but she was not going to let him see that, or any of the rest of them. It had been his plan to leave all along; he made no secret of it. Her place as the MacEwen Charm was to ensure his departure did not upset what she had battled to achieve with the MacLachlans before he arrived.
When she lowered her cup, her smile was firmly back in place as sunny as the day she was to marry Mangus. "This is indeed something to celebrate," she said as if she were as happy about the breaking of their vows as he was. All eyes were on her now, studying her every word, her every expression. A moist sweat dampened the fringe of hair across her forehead as she withstood their scrutiny. She was no good at lying, and she was sure they would see it in her every shake if she continued on. Maybe Corkie's methods of indifference laced with provocative charm would work for her as well. "I might not have wished for it so hard had you come to my chamber in this every night." With one hand she reached out and flipped the tasseled edges of Lex's beaver skin purse that hung just off center from his waist, and with her other hand she lifted the thick rim of her wine mug to her mouth again.
Lex's brow raised in interest. Sandra's temperature rose in an unexpected fluttery response. "I do not have to return you home until tomorrow," he said as the weight of his body pressed up against her shoulder. What was meant to happen in the interim was so deeply implied by his hungry eyes and rumbling Scottish burr that Sandra flushed with embarrassment as if he had asked for her virtue all over again. He was too good at this. If he was playing along with her for the sake of his clan, he had done an excellent job of convincing them all everything was fine by her.
"With the weather as bad as it is, it might be two nights before you can be rid of me," she picked up their banter again as if she were used to being seduced by men so openly, as well as playing back. All this was quite new to her, but quite exciting, and invigorating to her wine-tingled senses. It was easy to say when she knew it was all a farce for the audience around them.
"Then let us get on with it," he said as if starting the first round of a challenge match. His clan, thoroughly convinced that this was indeed the best thing for them all, as chosen by two people they trusted, raised their empty mugs up to be filled with Lex's celebration wine.
Lex unloaded the rest of the bottles from their traveling case and sent a few down either side of the table. With a content glance over his happy clan, he sat down at the head of the table looking like he had just been crowned King of the Scots and this was his royal court.
"The hall smells wonderful. What is that, heather?" Lex tilted his head back and inhaled deeply through his nose, taking in the fruits of her hard day's labor.
"You can thank this lassie here for the fine shape this place is in," Corkie said as she threw an elbow Sandra's way from where she sat next to her. "She scrubbed and scrubbed until every stone on the floor had a new skin and every wall was as white as the King's bare arse."
"I can think of other more beautiful bare things to compare it to than the King's arse," he said in answer to Corkie, but stared directly at Sandra.
A hot flush burst over her entire body again. Was this really the same man who she swore was born from a melting glacier? There had been moments before when she saw his desire for her plain in his eyes and in his stiff actions of denial, but never had she imagined he could be so sensuous, and to her no less.
Why fight it, she thought. Her head was dizzy with wine, her heart was dizzy with him. Enjoy yourself, Sandra. You never know if you will feel this fine ever again. "Name one thing softer and whiter than the king's arse," she said, taunting him, wanting him to push her over her sensible boundaries.
"How about two?" he said. At the same time his right hand wrapped around her wrist and brought it to his mouth. "One." His lips pressed skillfully against the inside of her wrist, creating a whirl of emotions inside her belly. His left hand came up and joined in corrupting her morals by easing her sleeve up her arm until it bunched at her shoulder. He leaned even closer, smiled and gave her a wink, then assaulted the tender skin of the inside of her elbow as he had done her wrist. "Two." He smiled up at her again, clearly pleased with her rapid breathing that was surely apparent from his close proximity. "Should I dare three?"
"Three! Three! Go all the way to three," yelled Oran from the other side of Corkie.
"A fool like you would stop at three," Corkie snorted out at Oran with a laugh. "No wonder ya have no offspring."
Lex slid Sandra's sleeve back down and set her arm gently on the table. "Thank you for that reminder, Corkie. I better stop at two if I want to stay childless as well." More yells of three came from down the table, but Lex would not oblige them, or Sandra. "Let us not keep this delicious food waiting any longer," he said, ladling himself out a large portion of herring from the bowl in front of him.
Again he was the master of the game and she just a foolish pupil. He was doing all this for them, for his clan. The two of them had been playing their roles for the sake of their clans this whole time, and it was not over yet. It would not be over for good until Lex MacLachlan was far from the Highlands. Even then she did not know if she would truly ever forget his touch or stop pretending she did not care.
"If you are fresh out of kisses, I will take that pheasant leg," she said as she reached across his trencher to grab the meaty bone on the other side of the table. The move brushed her breasts against his outstretched hand that was reaching to scoop some butter for his bread.
She heard him swallow hard and then inhale deeply as she brushed over him again on her way back to her seat. His smile faded. He almost looked confused as to what to do. When he looked at her and caught her smug smile it seemed to snap him out of his flustered state.
"You will eat from my trencher tonight, Sandra." His invitation almost sounded like an order. "This is my manor, my food, my hearth, and I shall feed you only the choicest morsels with my fingers for your hard work in making this a pleasant place to pass my stay."
"You are welcome," she said, no longer needing a witty retort. His demeanor became chivalrous all of a sudden, as if he were hiding behind it in fear of what might really transpire between them if their raucous exchanges continued. She was not afraid of the possibilities. She actually was hoping for them. If this was to be her last night as his wife, she fully intended to enjoy every last minute she could. There was no denying that he was a man like no other in the Highlands.
Throughout the meal he catered to her every need as though no one else dined with them. He kept her mouth satisfied with food and her cup overflowing with wine, and each sensual offering was made as if by touching his fingers to her lips he was satisfying the hunger growling behind his smiling eyes. To her it seemed he was only making himself hungrier, a fact she did not bother to point out as her lips enfolded his meaty offerings and her teeth nibbled at his fingertips.
"What else do you desire?" he asked when she refused her last bite of honey-sweetened bread.
"My stomach is full and my head is floating from too much delicious wine already," she said with a gay laugh that supported her claim of over-imbibing.
"Two satisfied body parts is a start."
"Do not promise what you cannot deliver, MacLachlan," she said.
"It is not a matter of cannot" he said before he turned from her and called out to Rory, who was down the table with Mira on his lap. "The MacEwen Charm is in need of pleasing music. Where are your pipes?"
"Can you play them?" Rory asked with a laugh. "Of course ya can. Once a Highlander always a Highlander."
Rory brought the huge bag and pipes over to Lex and dropped them on the table. "You will all be sadly disappointed if you expect me to play a tune on these. It has been too long..."
The gathered clan yelled out their support before Lex could gracefully decline.
"Anythin' you pipe out will be music to our ears, chieftain," came a shout from a woman with a robust smile to match her bust.
Lex picked up the pipes and slung them over his shoulder, surprisingly with the fluid movement of a skilled player. Standing there in his plaid he looked like the pure essence of a Highland chief. Sandra fell under the spell of his charisma as easily as every other member of his clan had already. It really did not matter what kind of noise came out of those pipes. It would be his noise, their chieftain's music. Looking at him in his plaid with those pipes, Sandra did not think she had ever seen a finer man that was born to rule a clan.
He started with a slow, haunting note that lingered in the air before it found its way into Sandra's heart. The next one followed the first and the music began to flow like a river of warm cream through her entire body. The sounds made up no song that she knew, but each note blended into the next to bring out the very sound that was Scotland to her ears. When the music finally stopped, the hall seemed somehow fuller than it had been before. The silence was not empty, but filled with the resonating melody that would forever be a part of the hall and all of their memories.
"Play more! Play more!" little Kiss cried out from where she sat stacked on top of her mother's lap, who was again on Rory's. Sandra no longer had to wonder if Lex had been telling the truth about the hunting shed.
"I am afraid that is all I know. Perhaps Rory could come up with something livelier." Lex took off the pipes and handed them over to Rory with a nod.
"I can give ya lively, all right," Rory bragged with a quick wink at Lex. "Best ya make certain yurr all secure under that plaid before ya start any jig."
"The best thing about these plaids is what you do not have to wear." Lex stood tall with his hands on his hips and proudly displayed his bulging pleats. "Dancing will only make the pleasure of wearing nothing more enjoyable to my skin."
A rousing bout of laughter and hoots started up as all the men stood up and made their unbound comfort known with a bounce or grab to the area. By the time Rory got the pipes sounding, the men were already side by side in the middle of the hall creating steps together. The music only added more speed to their efforts and boldness to their moves.
Sandra laughed in her seat and clapped along with everyone else at the manly peeks they were all getting. It was clear that their offers were not going to stop at just peeks when the men started pulling the women into the dance. Lex came straight for her as if there was never a doubt in his mind who was his partner, and she took his hand just as confidently.
She held up her skirts and jigged the quick dance Rory was dictating with his music's pace. The song he played was the traditional dance of the wedding couple and the ending was the part that all dancing pairs looked forward to. The wine and the laughter had worked their magic on her until she was so caught up in swirling from one man to the next that she did not know where she would end up. The music abruptly stopped and she went down on Oran's knee for her kiss.
"Ain't I the lucky one tonight?" Oran yelled out as he clasped her face in both of his hands and held out his lips like a duckbill.
"This dance has nothing to do with luck," came Lex's deep voice from behind her. She felt herself being lifted off Oran's knee and placed gently across an even broader one.
"Only to you would I give her up without a fight," Oran conceded with a bow of his head.
Sandra felt delightful being the prize of the dance. It was just like at a real wedding feast when all wanted to kiss the bride in the end. If only it was a wedding feast and not a departure, she thought to herself as she stared deep into Lex's eyes. The thought only smoldered her happiness for a moment, then the fires he had been kindling inside her all night were set to flames with the strike of his lips against her ear.
"They love you as their own, Sandra MacEwen. All of them," Lex whispered huskily to her. The cheers were loud and merry around them and as eager for him to finish the dance as she was. His lips never broke contact with her skin as he made his way from her ear, slowly across her jaw, and finally to her lips. "How many parts do I have left to please?" he asked against her open mouth, right before he took it into his in an all-consuming kiss.
There were no parts of her that did not feel his kiss. She felt as if she were floating on a billowy cloud and the only thing keeping her from going higher was the downward pressure of his mouth against her upturned lips, that and his strong hands that gripped into her thigh and waist with the restrained force of his desire.
The separation from him was like being a fish lifted from the watery sea. She gasped for air, she wanted back into the warmth of his engulfing embrace. She reeled in his net just inches from what she needed to survive, and then he stood her up on her feet and stepped away from her.
"It has been a long day and I believe I will retire for the night." Lex bowed gracefully to them all amidst the gibes and lewd remarks to his sudden and early departure.
She watched him walk away, still in a daze from his intoxicating spell. Everything was so conflicting. His every action and word seemed to say one thing, but inside she knew how it was all to really end.
He stopped with one booted foot on the bottom stair. His bare muscled leg clearly exposed up to his thigh, to the disconcertion of every woman present, and maybe some of the men too, who were lacking in comparison.
"Are you coming, Sandra?" It was the same question he had asked her the night before. They had agreed to make all appearances of being a hand-fasted couple until the end of their time together, and it looked like he was going to keep his end of the agreement until it was finalized and she returned home.
Sandra found her ability to move and gracefully walked through the gathering of people to join him, all the while fighting down the embarrassing blush she knew was on her face amidst all the hollers. Together they ascended the staircase to rousing cheers.
She stopped him with a gentle squeeze of her hand around his arm when they reached his chamber. "Thank you for doing that for them. It means a lot to your clan that this is all completed in an honorable way. It will never be said that the MacLachlans did not keep their end of the bargain."
He pushed the door open, walked over to the bed, and pulled her pallet out from underneath. "I did not do it for them tonight," he said as he walked back out into the hall and threw the wooden bed against the opposite wall, leaving it in a splintered heap, and leaving her with only one option for a place to sleep.