CLAIMED BY A HIGHLANDER (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY Book 2) Page 20

  “Gun cuireadh do chupa thairis le slainte agus sonas.” May your cup overflow with health and happiness.

  “Slàinte, sonas agus beairtas!” Health, happiness and wealth!

  “Móran làithean dhuit is sìth.” May you be blessed with long life and peace.

  Sybil would have had the food served before so many toasts, but this appeared to be the Highland custom. Judging by the increasingly bawdy jokes, she was not the only one feeling a bit tipsy by the time the trestle tables were set up for the wedding feast. At last, Rory led her toward the head table, a signal to everyone to find their seats.

  But he halted as something across the room caught his attention. Sybil followed his gaze to a guard who was pushing his way through the crowd of revelers, heading straight for Rory.

  “Laird, I apologize for disrupting the festivities,” the guard said when he reached them, “but we have a score of Munro warriors approaching the gate, and they’re armed to the teeth.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “I’ll come out at once,” Rory told the guard. “Open the gates.”

  “Is that safe?” Sybil asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

  “A score of men is not enough to attack a castle,” Rory said, his expression hard. “They’ve come to negotiate my sister’s release.”

  “Then I’ll come with ye,” Sybil said.

  “You’ll wait here inside the keep,” Rory said. “I want ye out of the way should harsh words turn to drawn swords.”

  Rory strode off without a backward glance, evidently assuming she would follow his orders. He should know her better by now.

  Sybil followed him outside and stood a few feet behind him with Alex and Malcolm. The gates opened and the Munro warriors entered the castle riding two abreast. A striking young woman with strawberry-blonde hair rode beside the leader.

  “Thank God, they’ve brought Catriona,” Alex said. “And it doesn’t look as though they’ve harmed her.”

  “Rory must handle this delicately,” Malcolm said in a hushed voice. “We don’t need a war with the Munros.”

  “I agree,” Alex whispered back. “But Rory looks as though he wants one.”

  The tall young warrior who rode at the front beside Catriona dismounted. After helping Catriona down from her horse, he kept his hold on her while the two exchanged words.

  “That’s their new chieftain,” Malcolm said. “He’s young and easily offended. Ach, this doesn’t bode well.”

  As the Munro chieftain brought Catriona across the castle yard to them with his warriors following close behind, Sybil glanced at Rory. He was gripping the hilt of his dirk as if contemplating plunging it into the Munro chieftain’s chest.

  When the Munro halted in front of them, Rory grabbed Catriona by the wrist and pulled her across the narrow divide between the MacKenzies and Munros. He pushed her behind him, clearly failing to notice his sister’s resistance or the look that passed between her and the young Munro chieftain.

  “Rory is overly protective of Catriona,” Alex said in an urgent whisper. “We must stop him from doing something he’ll regret.”

  “We can do nothing,” Malcolm said, holding Alex’s arm. “It would do Rory even greater harm for you and I to show we doubt his judgment in front of the clan.”

  Well, that left it to her.

  Sybil hurried to Rory’s side and hooked her arm through his, then gave both him and the Munros a bright smile. She could almost see steam rising from Rory’s skin, but her presence seemed to remind him that this was not the time nor place for a violent confrontation.

  “We welcome you to Castle Leod,” Sybil said, and held her hand out to the young Munro chieftain. “I’m Lady Sybil, the MacKenzie’s bride.”

  She ignored Catriona’s gasp of surprise and widened her smile. When the Munro chief bowed stiffly over her hand, she felt the tension of all the warriors around her decrease palpably—with the exception of Rory, who was clenching his jaw so tightly she expected to hear his teeth crack.

  “Thank you for bringing Catriona home to us in time to celebrate our wedding,” she said. “That is a great favor to me, as my own sisters cannot be here.”

  “It was my pleasure,” the Munro said.

  “Your pleasure to return my sister?” Rory ground out. “How dare ye say that after ye kidnapped her.”

  “Kidnapped?” The Munro stood taller, and fire lit his eyes. “She came to me for protection. You should take better care of your sister.”

  Rory made a sound like a growl and took a step forward.

  “’Tis true!” Catriona said, stopping him in his tracks. “I did go to them.”

  Rory turned slowly to face his sister. “Ye went to the Munros?”

  When she nodded, he stared at her, his eye twitching.

  “It appears I have been remiss in not thanking you,” Rory said in an icy tone. “I will protect my sister better in the future, as you suggest, so that she will feel no need to go to strangers.”

  Evidently the Munros had provided Rory’s sister with a safe haven, not kidnapped her. Catriona’s return presented an opportunity to build a friendship between the two clans. Rory, however, looked as if he’d like to murder their chieftain. The Munro’s attitude did not help matters.

  “I wish you and your men a safe journey home,” Rory said, and gripped Catriona by the arm. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my sister and I have much to discuss.”

  Sybil watched in dismay as Rory dragged his sister off. She caught Catriona’s distraught expression as she looked over her shoulder at the Munro chieftain.

  Nay, this would not do at all. She waited until she was sure Rory was out of earshot.

  “Must ye leave so soon?” she asked the Munro. “It will add to our joy if you would stay and join the celebration of our marriage.”

  ***

  “How could ye go to the Munros?” Rory shouted at his sister. “God have mercy, did ye lose your senses?”

  “Of course I went to the Munros. Where else could I go?” Catriona planted her hands on her hips. “Have ye forgotten that Father pillaged and burned the lands of our other neighboring clan, the Roses?”

  What had happened to Catriona? He remembered her as much more compliant.

  “What about our uncle, Lord Lovat,” he said. “Ye could have gone to him.”

  “He’s a sneaky bastard,” she said. “And would ye really want me to ride that far alone?”

  “I don’t think ye realize this could have turned out verra badly.” Rory was not ready to let it go. “I don’t like how that Munro looks at ye.”

  Catriona tilted her head. “How does he look at me?”

  “Ach, you’re too naïve for your own good,” he said. “But don’t worry, he won’t trouble ye again. I’ll see to that.”

  She opened her mouth to speak but seemed to change her mind.

  “Why didn’t ye go to one of our own clansmen?” he said. “I looked all over for ye. No one knew where ye were.”

  “After I heard about Brian’s death, I was afraid.” Her lower lip trembled. “I didn’t know which of our clan were Hector’s men.”

  He could not argue with her judgment on that, and he was annoyed with himself for yelling at her. He put his arms around her, which is what he should have done in the first place.

  “I can see ye made what ye thought was the best choice,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect both you and Brian.”

  “He came to Killin,” she said. “He was angry with Hector and looking for you.”

  “Did he tell ye why?”

  “Nay, but I’d never seen him like that,” she said. “He gave me two books to keep for him. I hid them in the safe place Mother showed me in the barn.”

  “Books?” What use would they be? He was no closer to learning why Brian had set out for Edinburgh.

  “All he told me was that if he did not return, I should hide the books and disappear until you came,” Catriona said.

  “I’m glad you’re safe.
” Rory kissed her cheek. “We ought to join the others in the hall.”

  “Who is that lass who greeted the Munros,” Catriona asked, “and why did she pretend to be your bride?”

  ***

  Sybil took a deep breath when Rory entered the hall and saw the Munros.

  “It appears they’ve decided to stay for our wedding feast,” Rory said when he joined her. “Ge b’e thig gun chuireadh, suidhidh e gun iarraidh.” Who comes uninvited will sit down unbidden.

  “But I did invite them,” Sybil confessed.

  “Ye knew I wanted them gone,” he said. “Why did ye interfere?”

  Sybil judged that Rory was not ready to hear that his sister had formed an attachment to the handsome young Munro chieftain.

  “Interfere? I was simply trying to be a good Highland wife,” she said. “I thought it was a matter of honor to graciously welcome every guest, even your worst enemy.”

  Rory blew out a deep breath. “What was your real reason?”

  “Ye said yourself that Hector should have tried to make the Munros allies rather than enemies,” she said.

  “That was before I knew their young chief was an arrogant arse.”

  Munro’s accusation that Rory had failed to protect his sister stung because he felt it was true. Her telling him it was unjust would not change that.

  “And I don’t like how he looks at Catriona,” Rory said.

  “Your sister is a lovely lass,” Sybil said. “Men will look at her.”

  “Hmmph.”

  “Worry about Munro tomorrow.” She rose on her toes and kissed him.

  “You’re right, of course,” he said, smiling down at her. “I’ll not let anyone spoil our celebration.”

  They ate course after course, and in between courses, there was still more toasting. After the feast, the trestle tables were moved to clear the floor, and the distinctive sound of bagpipes, drum, and flute filled the hall.

  “I don’t know how to do your Highland dance,” she objected when Rory pulled her to the middle of the floor.

  “Ach, ’tis no more than hops, skips, and a few twirls,” Rory said with a wink.

  The music filled her ears and her feet seemed to fly to the lively beat of the drum. She had never expected to enjoy her own wedding, but she was having a grand time. When Rory twirled her, she leaned her head back and laughed with reckless joy.

  But every now and then, she felt a nagging sense of guilt in the pit of her stomach for the secret she had not yet told him.

  ***

  “I thought they would never leave us,” Rory said when they were finally alone in their bedchamber.

  Sybil swallowed as she watched Rory’s naked backside as he crossed the room with the grace and unconscious ease of a warrior to bar the door. She let her gaze run over his broad, muscular back, narrow waist, and long legs as well. By the saints, the man was beautiful.

  And he was hers now.

  When Rory turned around, the heat in his eyes made her pulse jump. Her gaze traveled down his muscled chest and rippled stomach to his full erection, and it jumped again.

  He looked as if he’d like to swallow her whole, so she was surprised when he sat beside her on the bed and gently took her face between his hands.

  “I’m such a lucky man to have you.”

  “Lucky?” She gave a light laugh. “You’ve wed a Lowland pauper.”

  “I’ve wed a lass with the courage of a lioness, the cleverness of scholar—and most of all, a true heart. I know you’ll stand beside me no matter what comes.”

  “I will,” she whispered. “Always.”

  She pushed away the stab of guilt for not telling him she had not been his bride until today. This was her true wedding night with him, and she was not going to let anything ruin it.

  “This is our beginning,” she whispered against his lips as she leaned forward to kiss him. “Nothing else matters.”

  He took her in his arms and covered her with kisses—her cheeks, her eyelids, her forehead, the sensitive spot beneath her ear, the side of her throat.

  “Ye smell like heaven,” he said, burying his face in her hair.

  She pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss and tangled her fingers in his hair. As their tongues moved together in a slow, sensuous dance, tendrils of desire spiraled low in her belly.

  Without lifting his mouth from hers, he leaned her back on the bed and slid his hand up her thigh, pushing her night shift up to her hip.

  “This has to come off,” he said. “I need to feel ye against me, skin to skin.”

  Oh, aye. She lifted her hips and raised her arms as he pulled the gown over her head.

  He raked his gaze over her, lighting sparks across her skin and making her nipples taut.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed.

  His eyes darkened as she ran hands down his chest. The coarse hair felt good against her palms. When she trailed her fingers down to his belly, he stilled above her. He sucked in his breath as she ran her tongue across her top lip and brushed her fingertip against the damp tip of his shaft.

  “We’re taking this slowly tonight.” He took her hand away and gave her a wicked look as he kissed her palm. “Verra slowly.”

  When she pulled him down into another deep kiss, his chest felt so good against her bare breasts that she nearly purred. After a time, he broke his mouth away to run kisses along her jaw and down her throat. Her breathing grew shallow as he kissed and licked his way down the center of her chest. Her breasts felt heavy and her nipples taut with anticipation.

  “Mmmm,” she sighed when he covered her breasts with his big hands. Her sighs turned to moans as he rolled her nipples between his fingers and thumbs.

  He ran his tongue along the underside of her breast and then circled and flicked his tongue over her nipple. Finally, he sucked on her breast, sending shards of pleasure all the way to her toes.

  “I want to taste and touch every inch of ye tonight,” he said.

  Rory rolled her onto her stomach and drew her hair to the side to kiss her neck. She felt his warm breath in her ear as he whispered the wicked things he wanted to do to her. Teasing her, he let his shaft rub against her buttocks as he brushed his fingers along the side of her breast.

  She rose up on her elbows, and he took the invitation to cup her breasts. While giving her hot, sucking kisses on her neck, he played with her nipples. Waves of desire rippled through her body and settled between her legs as an aching need.

  When his shaft brushed against her again, she raised her hips.

  “I want to feel ye inside me,” she said.

  “Ach, ’tis verra tempting, lass,” he said with a smile in his voice, “but ’tis far too soon for that.”

  His long hair felt like feathers softly tickling her sensitive skin as he ran kisses down her back. When his lips reached her buttocks and he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh, her breathing grew shallow and tension coiled in her belly.

  She sucked in her breath when his fingers slid between her legs. When he felt how wet she was for him, he groaned and nipped her bottom with his teeth.

  But he made her wait, continuing downward, kissing her thigh, the back of her knees, her calf. He bent her leg, and she smiled as she felt his soft lips on the bottom of her foot. When he sucked on her toe, she never dreamed that could feel so sensuous.

  Her anticipation mounted when he turned her over and started his journey back up her body. He kissed her knee and then her hip, his hair brushing along her skin. Her pulse quickened as he ran his tongue across her abdomen and trailed his fingers up the inside of her thigh. All her attention was centered on his fingertips as they circled closer and closer, inching upward.

  She was ready to beg when her finally reached the sensitive juncture between her legs. Aye.

  She fisted her hands in the bedclothes and squeezed her eyes shut as he worked his magic with his fingers. At the same time, he moved up her body with his lips and tongue until he reached her breast. He gently bit
her nipple, causing a shock of pleasure that was almost painful.

  Her every nerve and muscle jangled with tension. She clutched his hair in her fingers as it built and built inside her. Good heavens, what he did to her!

  When she was on the very edge, he took her breast in his mouth, sucking hard. A burst of stars sparked across her vision, and she cried out his name as spasms of pleasure pulsed through her body.

  But now she felt a desperate need to feel the force of his passion, to be lost in the tempest with him. She wanted their bodies joined and their hearts and souls to become one.

  ***

  God how he loved to hear the little high-pitched sounds she made as he pleasured her, loved to feel her wet heat against his hand, loved to hold her as her body quivered and she cried out with her release. His cock was so hard he feared he would come against her side.

  Before he could gather himself, Sybil pushed him onto his back and gave him a deep open-mouthed kiss that sent fire coursing through his veins. He felt drunk with passion, lost in the sensation of her soft curves pressed against him, the smell of her skin, the heat of her kisses. His hands roamed her body, seeking, stroking, caressing as they rolled on the bed.

  She sucked on his tongue and rubbed her palm down its length, making him moan. O shluagh, he could not take much more of this sweet torture.

  When she was on top of him, she rose up and guided the tip of his shaft inside her. He gasped against the rush of pleasure as she sank down, burying him to the hilt in her wet heat.

  He loved to watch her above him while he held her hips and they moved together. Loved how she bit her bottom lip as she found her rhythm. Loved to watch her full breasts as her nipples grew taut. Loved to see how her lips parted and her head fell back.

  He wanted to lick the sheen of sweat off her body.

  She leaned over him until the tips of her breasts brushed against his chest, driving him to near madness. He pulled her down against him, and they rolled with their arms and legs entwined until she was beneath him. He swallowed her moans in passionate kisses.

  He needed her in a way he’d never needed her before. Her legs were like a vise around him, as if she, too, was trying to meld into him. His blood pounded in his ears as he tried to hold back. But she egged him on, lifting her hips to meet him as he thrust inside her again and again, harder and faster.