Page 71 of The Outlaw's Bride
“YE HAVE ALREADY lain with him?” Rhona stared at Adaira, aghast.
Adaira nodded.
“When did this happen?” Rhona demanded. She placed her goblet of wine down on the table beside her with a thud. They sat in Caitrin’s solar, in high-backed chairs before the hearth.
“On the journey here,” Adaira replied, her mouth quirking. Rhona’s shock was almost comical. “In a forest glade on the eve of Samhuinn.”
Rhona swung her gaze round to Caitrin. Their eldest sister was looking down at her wine, a smile curving her lips. “Ye knew?”
“Aye.” Caitrin glanced up, her smile widening. “Why do ye think I was so keen to see them wed? I had to make sure Fraser made an honest woman of her.”
Adaira snorted.
Rhona picked up her goblet once more and took a gulp of wine. She then fixed Adaira with an appraising look. “So … what was it like?”
Adaira’s cheeks warmed. Her mind went blank as she struggled for a response that wouldn’t embarrass her or reveal too much. She couldn’t think of one.
Rhona was smirking now. Her sister was giving her a knowing look that made her squirm. “I see,” she murmured, raising an eyebrow. “Words fail ye, do they?”
Adaira make a small choking sound—rescued when Caitrin cleared her throat and cast Rhona a look of censure. “Stop teasing her.”
“I only asked a simple question,” Rhona replied, all innocence.
Caitrin then turned her attention back to Adaira. “Was he gentle with ye?” she asked. She wore a tense, pained expression. “A woman’s first time can be … traumatic.”
Adaira met her gaze, her chest constricting when she saw that her sister’s blue eyes were shadowed. She knew then with certainty that Caitrin had never found any pleasure in Baltair MacDonald’s bed.
Adaira’s heart ached for her. She wished her sister could know passion, tenderness, and trust in a man’s arms. She wished her to experience what she had with Lachlann.
“Aye,” she said softly. “He was gentle.”
Caitrin smiled, although the expression held a melancholy edge. “I’m glad … I only want ye to be happy, Adi.”
Adaira smiled back, her vision misting. “And I wish the same for ye.”
Caitrin glanced away. “I am content now. I like feeling useful, having a purpose that goes beyond being a wife and a mother.” Her features tensed then. “I just hope Da doesn’t interfere.”
“After today he might rethink the way he treats us,” Rhona replied.
Caitrin looked up. “I can’t believe what Lachlann said to him.”
“Or that he’s still breathing after saying it,” Rhona quipped.
Adaira’s mouth curved. “Why do ye think I had to step in?”
Rhona took a sip of wine, her expression turning wistful. “Do ye remember how we three used to sit in Ma’s solar and speculate about the men we’d one day marry?”
Caitrin rolled her eyes. “Ye used to scoff at us. Ye were adamant that ye would wed no one.”
“I was,” Rhona replied with a wry smile. “But fate had other plans for me.” Her gaze shifted to Adaira. “Ye were forever going on about how the man who’d one day win yer heart would be strong, valiant, and handsome. Have ye wed the man ye dreamed of?”
Adaira took a measured sip from her own goblet. She knew Rhona was teasing her again, but she didn’t mind. The question made her think. “Lachlann is all those things,” she said quietly after a long pause. “But he’s also real. He can be impatient, arrogant—and infuriatingly stubborn. No one makes me as angry as him.”
Caitrin huffed a laugh. “I’m glad to see ye aren’t blind to his faults.”
Adaira shook her head, smiling. “I’m not perfect either. Lachlann exists in this world, not in my dreams … I prefer it that way.”
“Aye, perfection is boring.” Rhona’s gaze met hers, before a wicked gleam lit in her eyes. “But seducing yer husband isn’t. Let’s talk about more pressing matters. What are ye going to wear to bed?”
