BRAM WOKE TO THE SOUNDS of the river. Stars still studded the black velvet sky. The air was cold, but it was warm in the cocoon they'd made of their plaids. Lily's leg was draped across his thighs, her hair tickling him as it curled beneath his chin. She was beautiful in sleep. Almost as beautiful as she was in the throes of passion. He felt his body respond to the images in his brain. And he indulged in a satisfied smile as he pulled her closer, the soft whoosh of her breath warm against his skin.
She murmured something in her sleep, and then stretched, her breasts pressing into his chest. "Did I fall asleep?" she asked, her voice not much more than a whisper.
"Aye. As did I." He felt her smile.
"Well, if you're going to wear a girl out like that, it's to be expected, I suppose."
She rose up on one elbow, pushing her rioting hair out of her face, green eyes glittering with laughter and something more. Something that made him swallow with anticipation, desire stirring to life again. He wondered if he'd ever get enough of her. And just as quickly let the notion go. They belonged to each other now. And nothing would separate them.
He blew out a harsh breath. Would that it were that simple. But there was so much uncertainty. For a moment, he felt a wash of guilt. He shouldn't have brought her into this. Shouldn't have asked her to give him her life. Not when so much was at stake. Not when tomorrow might mean his death.
"What is it?" She was still watching him, but frowning now. "You're not regretting this, are you? You're not regretting us?"
"Nay, lass, never." He reached over to kiss her, trying to ignore his fears. Tonight belonged to them. And he'd not let his uncle take this too.
"Good." She settled next to him, her fingers softly tracing patterns through the hair on his chest. "Because I have no regrets either. But that doesn't mean that I'm not worried about what tomorrow will bring."
"Dinna think on it now," he said, wishing it were that easy.
"I can't help myself. I came back to stop you from fighting Alec. To keep you alive. But now I fear I've just thrown you from the frying pan into the fire."
"An interesting turn of phrase," he said, twining a lock of hair around his finger. "But you canna fash yourself o'er something you canna control."
"I might not have control. But you do. You don't have to challenge your uncle."
"I dinna have to, no, but to honor my father, I must. Surely you can see that?"
She sighed. "I suppose I do. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I guess you and Iain have a plan?"
"Aye. We're to ride on Dunbrae on the morrow."
"I see." Her voice had gone quiet, barely more than a whisper. "And what about me?"
"You'll stay here with Alec. And with Robby."
"And Frazier?" She was back on her elbow, looking down on him. He tried but couldn't read her expression in the shadows.
"He'll stay here too. I canna risk his coming with us. Alec has agreed to keep watch o'er him. And you."
"And if I don't want to be watched over?"
"Lily, you canna come with me. 'Tis no place for a lady."
"Maybe I'm not a lady. After all, I wasn't afraid to take a knife to Frazier earlier today." She sounded so fierce, he smiled.
"Ach, but you were magnificent indeed. But you also were in grave peril. And I canna risk being distracted with worry o'er you. As much as I'd prefer to have you with me, I need you to stay."
Her gaze was mutinous. "I'll not let you ride off into God knows what without me. I'm your wife. My place is with you. I can stay back. Out of the fray. That way I won't be a bother. But I'll not stay behind. If you insist on it, I'll only follow."
It was his turn to sigh. He'd married a strong-willed woman. And while he'd have it no other way, it meant that she was telling the truth. She wouldn't stay behind. Not unless he tied her to a bloody tree. And although the idea held some appeal, he was not stupid enough to believe she'd easily forgive something like that.
"All right then, you can come with us, but you'll not engage in combat and you'll stay out of sight until I come for you. Agreed?"
She paused, considering his offer. Then with a frown, she nodded in acceptance. "It's a compromise, I suppose. Do you think your uncle is expecting you?"
"He's no' a fool and he has to know that his other attempts have failed. That said, he doesn't know that I've made peace with Alec."
"And have you?" She was still frowning. "Made peace with him, I mean?"
"Of a sort. I canna get rid of a lifetime of believing him an enemy as easily as that. But I no longer believe he was involved in the attack on my father. Or the attacks on me. Frazier damned himself and my uncle when he slipped and mentioned Malcolm's name."
"But why would your uncle want to take Dunbrae from your father? I mean, they were brothers."
"Because it rightly should have gone to him."
"I don't understand."
"My grandfather wasna a kind man." He pulled her back down to his chest again, his arm circling her and holding her close. "He took great pleasure in playing people off against each other. Most particularly his sons. My father was the second son. Born from a second marriage. As was his younger sister, Ealasaid. Malcolm's mother, Bradana, was my grandfather's first wife."
"Ealasaid is Ranald's mother, right?" Lily queried.
"Aye, that she is," Bram smiled and then sobered. "Anyway, by all accounts the marriage between Bradana and my grandfather wasna a happy one. It was an arranged marriage, and there was no love lost between the two of them."
"But that wasn't the case with your father's mother?" Again she had cut to the heart of the matter. He stroked her hair, his mind thinking back to the stories his father had told.
"According to my father it was a passionate match. And one that happened well before Bradana died, I'm afraid. My grandmother, Deirdre, was a beautiful woman."
"She was his lover?"
"Aye, 'twould seem so."
"And your father?"
"Born safely on the right side of the blanket, but you can ken how well his father's infidelity sat with Malcolm. He believed himself to be the heir after all."
"I'm sorry, you've lost me again. As the oldest wouldn't that be an absolute?"
"In England surely, but no' in the Highlands. A laird names his own successor and, while it is common for it to be a son, nothing says it must be the eldest." He smiled down at the woman who was now his wife. "Or for that matter, even a son."
"A woman can inheirit?" Her eyes widened at the thought.
"Aye, if 'tis believed to be best for the clan."
"Imagine that." She nestled closer with a smile, then tipped her face to meet his gaze. "So Malcolm believed he was your grandfather's heir."
"That he did. And being close to his mother, he resented my grandmother from the beginning. And once his mother was dead and Deirdre became the new wife, his anger grew. It festered and found a worthy source once my father was born."
"What about Ealasaid?" She was chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplated his story. "Did Malcolm hate her too?"
"Nay. I dinna believe he saw her as a threat. And I think for a while she acted as a shield of sorts. Protecting my father from Malcolm's ire. But then, when Deirdre died, my grandfather sent her away. To the Macqueens, which is where she ultimately met Ranald's father."
"But that meant there was no longer anyone to stand between the two boys. How terrible for them both."
"True enough. And mayhap it would have passed as Malcolm grew to manhood, except as I said, my grandfather liked to play the boys against each other. And for better or worse, my father often came out on top. So Malcolm's ill feelings grew. And my grandfather's games only fanned the flames."
"Which in turn fed Malcolm's anger and jealousy." She snuggled closer, her warmth keeping Bram's emotions safely at bay.
He sighed, then nodded. "Then fate stepped in to make it worse. When my father came of age he fell in love with my mother. Aileen Mackintosh was a beauty and a wealthy woman in her own right. And there were many men who sought her hand. But she never had eyes for anyone but my father."
"And I'm guessing Malcolm was one of the other men."
"That he was. And when my mother agreed to marry my father, he was incensed. Demanded that his father grant him Aileen's hand. He was older than my father, after all. But my grandfather refused. So Malcolm appealed to his uncle."
"The head of your clan?"
"Aye, and because my grandfather had always gone his own way, my great uncle was only too happy to countermand his orders."
"He gave Aileen to Malcolm?"
"He tried, but my father would have none of it. He and Aileen sought the approval of the head of her clan."
"Chattan," Lily prompted.
"And the Mackintosh gave the couple his blessing. They were married at Moy. Of course this dinna sit well at all with my great uncle or with Malcolm. But it was too late and Ian Ciar couldna risk angering the head of Chattan. Although he ne'er forgave my grandfather or my father. Anyway, Malcolm turned his mind to other things. My grandfather was getting old, and my uncle pushed him to let him take over Dunbrae. But my grandfather was still angry over what he viewed as Malcolm's betrayal."
"Going over his head to his brother."
"Aye. And so in a fit of anger, he gave the lairdship to my father. Malcolm swore revenge and began gathering men to the cause. But Iain's grandfather stepped in and with the might of Chattan behind him, forced a truce."
"I bet that went over well."
"My great uncle never forgave my grandfather or father for bringing the wrath of Chattan down on him and the clan. When my grandfather died, my great uncle was forced to let my father take over Dunbrae, but he cut off any kind of support from Dunmaglass. And he showered favors upon Malcolm. He gave him a prosperous tract of Macgillivray land and helped him make a strategic marriage. He was, for all purposes, the favored son of the clan."
"But it wasn't enough for Malcolm," Lily said. "He still wanted Dunbrae. And he wanted your father dead."
"If what Frazier says is true, then that would seem the way of it."
"Oh, God, Bram, I'm so sorry. What a horrible situation."
He shrugged, the twist in his gut belying his dismissal of her words. "I've never had any love for my uncle. And I know he has none for me. But I ne'er believed he would do something like this. When my mother died, it seemed that his vengeance had at long last been served, for my father was never the same again. I truly believed that was the end of it."
"But instead, now you have to face him. To take back what rightfully belongs to your family."
He rolled over to face her, grasping her hands in his. "Yours now, too. And one day our wee bairns."
A soft smile tipped her lips. "You want children?"
"I do. And you?"
"Of course." Her smile widened. "Lots and lots of them. I was an only child."
"As was I."
"And I wouldn't wish that on anyone." A shadow chased across her face. "At least you had your cousins. I had no one."
He squeezed her hands, then flipped her beneath him, relishing the press of his body against hers. "Well, now you have me. And if I have my way, we'll be swimming in bairns before you know it."
He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, desire usurping thought. As their tongues swirled together, tasting, tempting, teasing, Lily parted her legs, and Bram drove himself into her welcoming heat. Together they established a rhythm and started to move in tandem, meeting each other thrust for thrust as together they climbed higher and higher. Sensation winning out over thought. Emotion leaving little room for logic or fear.
There was nothing but the two of them, and the pleasure building between them. He felt Lily reach the peak, her body spasming around him, her passage hot and tight. He drove deep into her, losing himself in the sweet smell of her skin and her hair. And then his mind exploded in white light. He called her name, his body pumping life into hers, his ecstasy beyond anything he'd ever felt before.
Later, much later, he held her in his arms, her soft breathing signaling that she slept. The silver of Lily's ring was cool against his finger. And in that moment, he felt as if anything was possible. Magic—old magic—had brought them together. Against all odds. God's blood, against time itself. And now that they were together, he'd not let anyone or anything tear them apart.
*****
Lily opened her eyes to the sound of the rushing river. Overhead a green canopy of trees danced amidst a patchwork of dappled sunlight. She blinked, for a moment forgetting where she was, her mind struggling to make sense of her woodland bed. And then memory returned.
She was in Scotland and last night...
The enormity of the promises she'd made last night took her breath as she realized she was alone in the clearing, wrapped in nothing but her Mackintosh plaid. Had she dreamed it then? Bram. The handfasting. Had none of it happened? Automatically her hand rose to the silver chain around her neck, her fingers following the links to the hollow between her breasts. No ring.
It had been real then. But where was her husband? Surely after last night he wouldn't have left her. She pushed aside the plaid, shivering in the cool morning air, realizing only belatedly that she was still naked.
"I see you're awake." William Macgowen stepped out from behind a tree and it was hard to tell who was more startled. Lily shrieked and grabbed for the plaid. William, red as a beet, ducked back behind the tree. "Ach, my lady, I beg yer pardon. I dinna realize… I mean… I never…"
"It's all right William," Lily said, her voice emerging in a croak as she hurriedly pulled on her leggings and shirt. "You can come out. I'm dressed now."
The young man emerged, his cheeks still red, his eyes glued to the ground. "Bram went to meet with Iain and Alec. He was afeart to leave you alone and so asked me to watch o'er ye. But I dinna think he meant for me to take that so literally."
"It's okay, I promise." She held up a placating hand. "We'll just pretend it didn't happen."
"I thank you for that." William almost bowed in his enthusiasm to put the episode behind them. "'Tis a great kindness. For I'm quite certain that Bram would no' be pleased to think I'd been ogling his new wife."
She smiled. So Bram had already shared their news. That certainly seemed to negate the notion that she'd imagined the whole thing. "He'd understand, but as it is there's nothing to tell him."
"Aye. So be it then. And may I be the first to congratulate you." This time he swept into a full and courtly bow. "'Tis no' every day that we have a wedding while in route to a battle."
She shivered at the mention of fighting. "They haven't left, have they?" She didn't really believe Bram would leave her again, but still she couldn't stop herself from asking.
"Nay." The young man shook his head. "They wouldna go without me. And Bram said he'd be back here directly with something to break yer fast."
She nodded, relief making her giddy and slightly guilty. If she and Bram were to make a go of it, she had to trust him. Just as he had to trust her. Her head spun with the knowledge of how very far she'd come from that moment in Greenwich when she'd first heard of her parents' deaths. She hoped they'd approve.
"But now that yer awake," William was saying, his words pulling her from her tumbling thoughts, "I can take you to him if you like."
"Yes, thank you. I'd like that. Just let me put on my boots." She sat down on a log, her back to William as she adjusted her belt and pulled on her boots. Tendrils of mist still curled close to the banks of the stream, although the growing sunlight would soon disperse them as it continued to warm the ground.
She reached for her hair, quickly braiding the curly mass, securing it with a length of ribbon Katherine had given her at Duncreag. Behind her the bushes rustled. "There's no need to keep hiding, William. I meant it when I said everything was fine. I'm completely decent now."
"More's the pity."
She swung around, her stomach clenching as she recognized the voice.
Frazier Macbean stood only a foot or so away, a vicious looking knife in his hand. And flanking him on his left was an enormous man holding a claymore. A second man stood farther to the left, his eyes trained on the woods that separated them from the encampment.
Lily pushed to her feet, muscles tensing to run.
"There's nowhere to go, my sweet," Frazier crooned, the sound sending a shudder racing through her. "The river is too deep to try and cross it here. Ye'll drown if you try."
Visions of her parents filled her mind, bile rising in her throat as she held her ground. "How did you…" She trailed off, her mind spinning as she tried to find a way out.
"I had a little help. Ye dinna think I was in this alone, did you?"
She shook her head and then opened her mouth to scream, but Frazier was faster, one hand bringing the knife to her throat as the other covered her lips to prevent her crying out. "If ye dinna want to die here and now then I suggest ye hold yer tongue. Do ye ken what I'm saying?"
She nodded. And he released her, but kept one hand circled about her wrist. "There's a good lass."
"Where's William?" she asked, her stomach churning with worry.
"My man has him." Frazier's smile held no humor. "And unless you want something more to happen to him, you'll give me what I've come for."
She shook her head, fear holding her tongue captive.
"The ring." He held out an impatient hand. "Give me the ring."
"I can't," she croaked. "I don't have it."
"Of course ye do." He snarled and reached between her breasts to grab the chain, his eyes flashing when it yielded nothing but silver links. "What have ye done with it then?"
She lifted her chin, determined not to let this man get the better of her. "I gave it to my husband. Last night when we pledged ourselves to each other."
The man with the claymore cursed. "We've the need to move, Frazier. We canna be sure they havena discovered that yer gone."
"Only a moment more," Frazier replied, stroking the edge of his knife as he watched her, his fingers still clamped about her wrist. "I'm afraid I dinna see that one coming. I'd assumed the boy would reject you because of your kin."
"Well, he hasn't. And if he finds you here, he'll kill you. And then he'll kill your master." Again she lifted her chin, feigning a bravado she was far from feeling.
"I'd thought to bring Malcolm the ring. A token of my devotion. But perhaps this new turn of events is even better." He took a step closer and she backed up, her heels at the edge of the river bank. "I'll bring him his nephew's bride." With a swiftness that belied his age, Frazier jerked her into his arms and called to his friends, "Kill the boy and help me with her."
Lily fought like a wildcat, striking out with her free arms and her legs. A knee landed squarely in Frazier's groin and with satisfaction she heard the man grunt in pain. But if she'd thought to stop him, she was wrong. Frazier cursed and then brought the full force of his fist against her cheek and temple. Red hot pain exploded through her head, white light obliterating the scene before her.
She fought to hold onto consciousness but the pain was too great, the light fading quickly as blackness invaded, flowing through her brain, obliterating her thoughts until it swallowed her whole.