The Highlander's Bride (27 page)

Her back arched and the vortex of need grew exponentially until the world burst into flames as spasms took over her body.

As she climaxed, Conor plunged deep, sinking victoriously in her snug, tight channel. He nearly emptied himself upon his entry. She was tight, and wet, and so hot.

When he entered her, she was suddenly brought back to earth and was very aware of him inside her. He waited briefly for her body to become accustomed to him. He then gripped her hips and urged her into a passionate rhythm. As with the first time, her body molded to his, accepting, stretching, accommodating, as if she were made only for him. Except that this time he was able to penetrate deeper and harder.

As Conor moved inside her, Laurel arched her back, clinging to him, drawing him in even further. Straining to meet each thrust, she lifted herself against him, silently demanding that he move more quickly.

Suddenly the heavens exploded. Conor froze and then collapsed in intense pleasure, feeling Laurel climax simultaneously beneath him.

Conor had known that each and every joining he and Laurel were to share over their lifetime would be incredible, but he had been unprepared for this. He felt as if he left his body and his soul had met with hers on another plane. Only much later did he feel himself drift back to his castle, solar, and bed.

He was on his back, and she was cradled against him with her head on his shoulder, her hair splayed against the pillows and linens. A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection rose in him.

Laurel sighed as he kissed her again, more softly this time, with so much tenderness it felt like her heart was swelling in her chest, nearly choking her. The love Conor felt for her was never more clear, and she knew it would last forever.

With her, he had experienced a sense of underlying oneness that could only be shared with a soul mate. Neither spoke, but each kept giving small tokens of love through undemanding kisses and feather-light caresses.

Throughout the night, they shared their hearts and souls, bringing each other pleasure again and again before finally collapsing from exhaustion, wrapped in each other’s arms.

The next morning Laurel awoke with Conor still by her side. She was somewhat surprised, knowing that he was a early riser. She had half-expected him to have been gone before she awoke.

He had been awake for some time when he finally felt her stir. While he knew his men were waiting for him to begin the tournament, he just could not force himself to leave her side. He had never felt so complete in his life. It was the fact that she was now married to him, not just by the Church, but by her heart. He had claimed her Scottish heart for his own.

“Good morning.” Conor smiled, rolled over and gave her a kiss that made her toes curl.

“Good morning to you,” she said sleepily, stretching her muscles, finding herself somewhat sore from the night’s activities.

“How are you, wife?”

“Hmmm, blissful. I got married yesterday.”

“Aye, that you did.”

She grinned playfully and pointed a finger at his chest. “I told you I was not going to marry an Englishman, but a Scotsman.”

“Aye, you did. But you promised to marry more than just a Scotsman.”

“You mean when I vowed my husband would be chivalrous and thoughtful. You are indeed those.”

He nibbled her ear. “And polite, I believe you said.”

“Well…,” she said, drawing out the word. “You are polite—sometimes. When I fell in love with you, I realized that I was going to have to compromise on some things.”

He rose and looked at her. “Such as?”

“You are a giant.”

“No, I am a normal-sized gentleman.”

“But you yell.”

“Aye, but my keep is no longer disorganized or unclean.”

“See? A compromise. I get a thoughtful man with a clean keep. All I have to do is learn to live with a yelling giant who…”

He cut off her words with another kiss, rolling her on top of him. Just before it grew into something more that neither of them could stop, he pulled away.

“I have to go to my men,” he said, not moving.

“Mmmm-hmm. I, too, have much to do,” she added, without even adjusting the lock of hair tickling her nose.

“And what are you planning to do today, wife?”

“Mmmm, watching you win, I think, is on my list,” she said, looked down mischievously at him.

“Think I will win, do you?”

Feeling quite the imp, she responded, “Perhaps. But Finn is quite skilled, and there seem to be several other soldiers that look very large and extremely strong.”

Suddenly she was on her back, and he was above her. Her eyes reflected joy, and his own silver ones were filled with the endless love he felt for her. Without words, they both realized that their plans for the day were going to be slightly delayed. Only when all their needs were satiated again was he able to leave her side and dress.

As Laurel was dressing, Conor opened a large chest and rummaged through it for several minutes. When he emerged, he held something in his hand. He walked over and helped her fix her plaid so that it would remain pleated when secured. He reached down to get the silver and gold pin she had been using.

“This belonged to my mother,” he said, fingering the gorgeous brooch. “Before her, it was my grandmother’s and so forth. This luckenbooth has always been given to the new Lady McTiernay in the days before she was married. I’m sorry it was Brighid and not my mother who gave it to you.”

Laurel looked down at the heart-shaped brooch in his hand. He turned it over. Because Brighid had always helped to pin her plaid, she had never seen the engraving on the back.

My heart is thine and thine I crave

Reading the words, she could not hold back her tears. The McTiernay men had always married for love, Glynis had said. Love had always filled these castle walls, and now it would again.

“Thank you, Conor. I will treasure this until I pass it down to our son’s betrothed.”

The highlander games began once Conor reached the tilting yard he had established for the tournament. Although usually played in early fall, today’s games, having vowed to be no different despite the cold conditions. Robert the Bruce was a friend of Conor’s and a keen proponent of the games, having vowed to establish them as regular events in the future.

Because so many different highland clans had ridden a fair distance to congratulate Conor on his marriage, an impromptu game session was convened. All day, there would be contests trying to determine the best warrior clans and finally the best soldier. Some events honored brute strength, others rewarded sharp cunning.

Several of the women gathered on the higher side of the fields, sitting on their plaids to watch. Laurel sat with Aileen, Brighid, and Glynis.

“Look, there’s Cole!” a girl cried out from behind. Other shouts about Craig and Crevan soon followed. Although not quite the focus of too many girls yet, Laurel watched how Conan and Clyde handled the McTiernay soldiers’ horses and brought out event items with pride. After all, these were her brothers, too, she thought, as she smiled and waved.

One contest consisted of throwing a heavy rock fetched from the bed of the nearby river. Another event involved using a huge club with an iron head. Laurel watched as Conor and Finn led the McTiernays through a series of games that included stone throwing, pole vaulting, high jumping, the
geal-ruith,
which consisted of three jumps, the
gaelbolga,
which compared the accuracy of a soldier’s dart-throwing ability, and the
roth-cleas
. This last event was extremely exciting as the participant had to spin around and throw an entire cart axle with an attached wheel. To do so well not only required strength, but coordination, balance, and a sense of steadiness that one only gained through experience.

When the day was done, the McTiernays were the clear winner with Conor the mightiest of them all. Later that night, in the great hall, Laurel laughed as one by one the other lairds came up and told Conor to revel in his winnings for next fall, he would sing a different tune. That Conor only won today was because they had brought just a small number of guardsmen and had to leave their most talented and strongest to protect their land. To allow them to save face, Conor quickly agreed that it
might
have been different if all their men had been able to attend and participate.

Laurel leaned over and whispered, “Well, I think he could have brought every living man from his clan and you will still have bested them, and probably by just as large of a margin.” Conor grinned and, in front of everyone present, kissed her so possessively that none were in doubt about how this laird loved his lady.

Later, when the festivities were dying down, Laurel stood to leave. “Go ahead, love,” Conor encouraged. “I’ll follow in just a moment.” After he knew that she had left, he went over to Loman and Finn, who were standing near one of the hearths drinking ale. “Laird!” they both exclaimed together.

“Has Seamus departed?” he asked. That morning he had pulled Finn and Loman aside and informed them of his plan. They whole-heartedly agreed that it was a wise and necessary step toward securing Laurel’s future.

“Aye. Just as you requested. He left this morning. He was mighty upset when he found out he wouldn’t be participating in the tourney.”

“He’ll have other games.”

“Aye, but none like today. Our men showed that the training practices have been quite successful.”

“When did Seamus leave?”

“I believe some time before the noon meal. With MacInnes’s land so far south, I doubt he will be able to return until spring after the thaw of the winter snow.”

“He’ll be all right. MacInnes will take him in.”

“Most likely ’tis so. But the message you asked him to deliver was a little short. And ordering him not to speak further about the subject is going to make it somewhat hard on our Seamus.”

“Seamus is a warrior, not a woman, Finn.”

“Aye. But he is fiercely loyal to Lady Laurel, and if he hears a negative word about her, he will be hard-pressed not to speak up.”

They discussed a few other details and then Conor left for the solar to join Laurel. On his way, he hoped that he had done the right thing, sending Seamus to MacInnes’s with such a cryptic communication. But it seemed to be the most straightforward way to ensure MacInnes’s arrival. Finn was right about how the old highlander was going to react. He was going to be very furious, especially since Conor had taken so long to send him word.

Nevertheless, if he had to do it all over, Conor knew that he would again delay sending any information on Laurel’s whereabouts. Only now, after he had Laurel bound to him forever with commitments made in front of God, a priest, and most of his clan, was it safe to go to MacInnes and let him know that his granddaughter was alive.

The next few months passed by in a blissful fog for Laurel. Conor and she developed a routine in which the days passed by smoothly and without event. They were learning to trust and depend upon each other for the everyday things in life.

More and more, Conor found himself relying on Laurel to let him know about the needs and wants of his people. She was able to differentiate between what his clansmen truly needed and what they merely wanted. In just a few weeks, she had helped him prioritize the villagers’ needs, soldier requirements, and castle repairs.

Then, one morning, it all fell apart. It started as the best day in her life. Laurel learned she was pregnant. She had been irregular most of her life and so missing her monthly had not been a surprise or a sign that she had physically changed. Her breasts were the true indicator. They were getting larger and much more tender and sensitive.

She thought it might be the result of their frequent lovemaking. It was only when Hagatha visited did she learn that she truth.

“You thought it was…” Hagatha couldn’t continue, she was now laughing so hard. They were sitting in the great hall, which was currently separated by a temporary wall that split the large room into two sections. Divided, the room seemed cozy and comfortable as they sat in enormous chairs in front of the large hearth. It was warm and inviting, enticing all who entered to sit, relax, and put their feet up.

“You be quiet,” Laurel responded with laughter. “How was I supposed to know?”

“You know, English, you have to be the most unaware child I ever met.” Laurel was too excited over the news to pretend to be offended.

“A baby,” she said again with a smile. “When?”

“Ahh, from your statements, could be April or May. I’ll be able to tell as you get larger and closer to your time.”

“You will be here, Hagatha, won’t you?”

“For Laird McTiernay’s first bairn? Absolutely. Wolves could not keep me away.”

Laurel reached over and squeezed the older woman’s hand in her own. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I am the luckiest woman in the world.”

“Told you that you and the laird could find a way.”

“And you were right.”

“Well, just you remember those words later when you be wanting to get rid of me like Aileen did.”

Hagatha’s words affected Laurel like of a bucket of ice water poured on her head. She instantly became nervous and jumpy. She couldn’t help it, the memories came flooding back, suppressing all the joy.

She physically resembled her mother. Same height, coloring, and the same body structure. Her mother barely had the strength to deliver her. She hadn’t enough for her brother. If her mother could not do it, most likely she would be unable to as well. Laurel knew there was a high probability she was going to die.

She turned to Hagatha, her eyes boring into those of the midwife. “Promise me that, no matter what, you will not leave me. Promise me, Hagatha. I need to know that regardless of what transpires, you will be here to make sure that my baby lives.”

Hagatha recognized the worry on Laurel’s face and spoke the words the lass, for some reason, needed to hear. “Aye, child. No matter what, I will be here for ye and the bairn.”

Laurel visibly relaxed. “Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

The older redhead eyed her carefully. “What happened, lass?”

Laurel’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you are afraid of very little, yet the idea of going through labor without me seems to be terrifying to ye. I know when a women is scared of labor. Most are, but ye? No, there’s something more to it. Spit it out now. I’s got to know if I am going to be able to prepare and help ye.”

Laurel couldn’t stop her tears. “My mother died in childbirth with my brother. When she had me, it was a difficult labor. She should never have tried again.” She paused, remembering her childhood memories. “She went into labor early, and there was no time to get help. By the time the midwife arrived, they had both died. My father never recovered.”

Hagatha nodded. She had seen and heard similar stories in her years as a midwife. They were the tragedies, the other side of having a baby that people never discussed.

“Lass?” she prompted, trying to pull Laurel out of her memories and into the present. “You will not die. I won’t allow anything to happen to you or the laird’s son. Do you hear me? Laird McTiernay will not lose you,” she said emphatically, realizing she was trying to convince herself as much as Laurel at that moment.

They hugged then and got up to leave the hall and see if Fiona had some of the herbs that Hagatha came to collect. As they entered the courtyard, Hamish came charging in. Seeing Laurel, he immediately went to her.

“Hamish! It’s so good to see you! I haven’t seen you for such a long time! What has…” All of a sudden Laurel recognized the fear in his expression. “Hamish! Hamish—what’s wrong!” Somehow Laurel knew it had to do with Conor.

“No!” she screamed, fear seizing her.

Hagatha instinctively grabbed Laurel and kept her from falling. “What is it, Hamish? What’s going on?”

“My lady! You need to come. Hurry! It’s Conor!”

Laurel started running when she heard a formidable shout from behind her. “NO!” Hagatha emerged beside Laurel again, turning her so that she had Laurel’s attention. “You cannot do this. You cannot run or ride a horse as you could before. It is too dangerous. I will go.”

Hagatha could see the battle raging in Laurel’s stormy eyes. She grabbed her friend by the shoulders. “He will be all right. I promise you—he will be all right. But I will not have him live to hear that you and the bairn are not just as well. Do you hear me?” She gave her a little shake, until Laurel nodded yes. “Now, go and prepare his room. Most likely he got hurt from a sword or something similar. Prepare for such an injury. Now, go!” And then Hagatha was gone.

It turned out that Hagatha was right, and Conor had only received a mean, but non-lethal, flesh wound. A novice soldier had lost control of his sword in a challenge near where Conor was standing talking to Finn. It was deep and serious but, under Hagatha’s and Laurel’s ministrations, he recovered.

Laurel spent the first several nights tending his wound and checking him often for fever. Thankfully, it never came.

Hagatha approached her, “Lass, you are wearing yourself out. You need sleep.”

“I know, and I will,” she said stroking Conor’s brow as he slept. She still had not told Conor the news of the baby. She wanted to find the exact right time, when they both could enjoy the moment and each other. But when she finally did tell him, it was far from the romantic interlude she had hoped for.

At first, he was too weak to argue with her rules and restrictions. But, after two weeks of being what he considered coddled and overprotected, he had enough of the smothering.

“Conor! You get right back into bed!” she yelled at him as she saw him don his leine and then his belt. She ran and grabbed his plaid.

“I will not let you leave before you are ready. Do you hear me? Hagatha said three weeks minimum before you return to your duties and, even then, you should only do so limitedly.”

“I heard what she said, and I have decided that I am well,” he said, holding his hand out for his plaid.

“You are not well! The stitches are barely closed now. They could rupture easily at the littlest strain. Please believe me, I have seen it happen.”

“Not to me, you haven’t,” he replied, yanking his plaid from her grasp and beginning to wrap it around himself.

She ran over and tried to stand between him and the doorway. But he easily sidestepped her intentions.

“I’m not going to lose you, Conor McTiernay.” Tears were forming, but she made no move to brush them away.

Feigning patience, Conor replied, “And I’m not going to lose you either, Laurel, but I am laird and I have much work to do. Finn has filled me in on all the squabbles that have arisen since you imprisoned me in my own chambers. Now,” he paused as he bent down to firmly, but quickly, kiss her, “I have to go. I promise not to overdo and keep it short.”

She watched him leave the solar, knowing it was fruitless to make any more efforts to entice him to stay. Even if she did make the effort and it worked, he would have only stayed for the day. She sat down in the hearth chair and massaged her temples.

She had been feeling poorly since she awoke that morning, with a headache the size of the highlands banging in her head. Her argument with Conor had only intensified the pounding. She rose to go get something to eat, and then the world dissolved into white nothingness.

“Milady?” Someone from a distance was tapping her cheek. “Milady, please wake up.” She recognized the voice, but it sounded far away. She wanted to open her eyes, but they seemed impossibly heavy. She kept hearing distant voices calling to her as if from inside a tunnel, but she could not understand what they were saying. They wanted something from her, but she couldn’t figure out exactly what that was.

Suddenly, she was floating as if she’d been lifted high in the air and placed on a soft cloud. The next voice she heard was much more compelling. She wanted so much to help the person, but she didn’t know how.

“Laurel, wake up, love. Please wake up for me.” Conor was cradling her in his arms, just as frightened as everyone else. He had sent for Hagatha, who mercifully was visiting one of the women just outside the castle walls.

It seemed forever before she arrived.

“What happened?” Hagatha’s question was direct and full of authority.

Conor looked up, his voice was rough with concern. “We don’t know. One of the maids came in and found her unconscious on the floor. She’s moved a little and moaned some, but otherwise she’s been unresponsive.” Panic then invaded him and emerged as the demanding laird. “Do something, Hagatha. What’s wrong? Why would she be fine one moment arguing with me about staying in bed and moments later be…be…” and then he lost it. Tears started falling. The universe had suddenly opened up and snatched his heart and soul right from underneath him.

Hagatha was looking at her now and asked for a glass of water. When she started pouring some down Laurel’s parched throat, Laurel woke up and joined the conscious world.

“What…what happened?” she sputtered. Her brows bunched together in puzzlement as she became aware of where she was and the people around her. Conor was holding her on his lap sitting on the same hearth chair she got up from moments ago.

“You passed out, English,” said Hagatha, using the endearment to hide her fear, but as she continued it became apparent.

“I told you to be sleeping and eating more. What did ye think? That me only orders that should be listened to were for the laird? You have to take care of you and baby. When was the last time you ate, a real meal mind you, not just pieces of bread and ale?” she asked, fully focused on Laurel, unaware of the shocked expression on Conor’s face.

Snapping her fingers, Hagatha ordered, “Bring her food—some broth at first, I think. Maybe tonight we will work up to some food. But you must not miss a meal again. Do I have yer word? Promise me, Laurel,” she demanded, using the same tactics Laurel had extracted from her a few weeks ago.

“I promise,” came the soft reply.

“Fine, then. I was in the middle of delivering a bairn when I was dragged away. Most likely the little chit has not arrived, but I best go now. Conor, you keep that one from missing another meal. And don’t be pampering her overmuch, that will drive a woman just as insane. Come now. All of ye, it’s time to leave them be for a moment.” And then she left, followed by the crowd of shocked clansmen.

Conor just continued to sit there for several more moments holding Laurel in his arms. “You gave me quite a scare there, love.”

“I’m truly sorry. It wasn’t intentional. I just forgot to eat.”

“Aye, and it is my job to see that you do not forget again,” he said as he picked her up and placed her on the bed, ignoring her protests.

“Wait here until I return.” He bent down and lightly brushed his mouth across hers. Then he stood and left.

When he did return, it was with a large bowl of meaty broth and several slices of bread. Only until she had finished a significant portion did he continue their conversation. It had taken that long for the news to sink in. He was going to be a father.

“Did I understand that correctly? Are you with child?”

Conor was acting strange. She knew he had heard Hagatha and that the news of the baby had come somewhat of a shock. She’d expected questions, but she’d also expected excitement. Instead, she detected none. His deadpan tone as he asked the question filled her with foreboding.

“Yes.”

“When is the babe due to arrive?”

Laurel spoke in unusually hushed tones. “Some time in April or May. Hagatha should be more specific in a few months time.”

Conor stilled as he assimilated that bit of information. He raked his fingers through his hair and groped to keep the cold anger from flaring to life. It was truly the first time his promise to wait for explanations before exploding was put to the test. She was practically halfway through her pregnancy. She must have kept it from him for months.

He spoke through clenched teeth, struggling to keep his voice from rising. “Why am I only discovering this now? I am the father, am I not? Did you think I would not find out? Why would you keep this from me?” He couldn’t help it. The more he talked, the louder his voice grew.

Indignation set in. “Whatever are you talking about? Of course I was going to tell you. I had only discovered the fact the morning you were injured. I was waiting until you healed to tell you, since I did not want you to turn the tables on me, making
me
the invalid before you were completely well!”

“I thought you said the baby is due in April.”

“Yes, that or May.”

“But how could you not know…” That did it. For Hagatha to laugh at her ignorance was one thing, but Conor! She was not going to be humiliated by him as well.

“I didn’t know! Do you hear me? I didn’t know. I am not stupid, and I am not withholding anything from you. I am just plain ignorant about babies and the whole subject. It took Hagatha to explain to me why I was suddenly hungry more often, becoming tender and getting fatter.”