Page 42 of The Highlander's Dare
“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 TUBof 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.”
