Seven

Seven

Summer came, and the crops ripened.

Ailis spent more time in the kitchens, overseeing the enormous task of preparing the castle for the lean months of winter. Wagonloads of fleece came in from where Bhaic and his men were supervising the shearing of the sheep. Days passed in which all she did was catalog load after load of wool.

They built fires near the banks of the river, setting huge caldrons on them to warm. They all tucked their skirts up to kept their hems from the flames as fleece was dunked into the hot water and washed.

Her hands were rough from the lye soap, but the bundles of drying fleece pleased her. It was the sight of prosperity, of life. The fleece would be sold south, bringing income. It was so valuable, Bhaic took over half the retainers with him every morning to safeguard the incoming wagons. Some nights, he didn’t return.

Her brothers would be doing the same.

But for the first time, Bhaic and Duncan wouldn’t be raiding each other.

Aye, “hopeful” was the word for her mood.

Even Angus wasn’t shooting her suspicious looks anymore. The burly captain had settled into a silent contemplation she might have called a glare if she wasn’t feeling hopeful.

At least until the night she caught a whiff of her supper and ran from the hall. Two serving maids had to jump out of her path, or she would have run them over. Finley stood up so fast, he turned over the bench he’d been sitting on. Men looked up, and Lyel took off after her, but all Ailis could manage to focus on was not throwing up in the hall.

She ended up in her chamber, draped over the chamber pot that was thankfully empty.

“Here now…” Helen said as she and Senga arrived.

“Give me a moment…”

They both ignored her, coming around the privacy screen. Helen wiped her face with a cool cloth as Senga helped her off her knees.

“Really, I do nae need help,” Ailis protested. What she needed was a corner to hide in.

Lyel had the outer door of the chamber pushed open, looking in, trying to judge her condition for himself. There was shuffling on the steps as Finley brought up the healer.

“I’m fine,” Ailis said.

She was completely ignored.

“Ye’ll sit, mistress.” Marcus took several long steps into the chamber, making it clear he wasn’t leaving until the healer had seen her. “And we’ll hear what the healer has to say.”

“What are ye doing in me chamber?”

Marcus hooked her upper arms and lifted her right off her feet. She gained a brief moment of shocking firsthand understanding of just how strong he was before he deposited her on a stool.

“Yer husband is nae here. So yer health is me concern.”

The healer was a thin man who wore a leather skullcap. It came down over his forehead, hiding all of his forehead and almost all of his eyebrows. He squinted at her as he held a candle up to her face. He examined her hands and fingernails, turning them over several times with his lips set into a hard line.

“No poison.”

Ailis gasped. “I never thought there was.”

But Marcus clearly had. He looked toward the open door and nodded at Lyel. “Tell Duana she can finish serving supper.”

“Really, it was just a queasy belly.”

The healer grunted before standing. “I suggest ye send a midwife up.”

Marcus had been watching with an unreadable expression, his arms crossed over his chest. The first genuine smile she’d ever seen appeared on his lips, lasting only a moment before he turned and disappeared through the doorway.

A midwife?

* * *

Bhaic and his men escorted the last of the fleece. The village was full of cheering when they were sighted on the road, and someone even rang the church bell.

In response, the men on the walls of the castle began to ring the bells. Ailis left the drying bundles of wool and started down the road toward the castle with the rest of the women.

But she stopped, watching the stallion charging up the road toward them. Bhaic was leaning low over the beast’s neck, letting him have his freedom. The stallion made good use of his strong legs, sprinting up the road until Bhaic pulled him up, slowing him with a firm hand. The stallion snorted, clearly unhappy. Bhaic leaned over and hooked her about the waist. He pulled her off the ground and onto the stallion.

She ended up gripping him for dear life as the women around her laughed.

All Ailis cared about was the way his scent filled her senses.

Bhaic.

She shivered, feeling as though the scent touched her. How long had they been separated? Was it really long enough to feel so needy?

She dug her fingers into his clothing, uncaring if she tore it off him. He growled next to her ear, the sound raising gooseflesh along her body.

They reached the stable, and he rode right inside it, slipping off the back of the stallion before he reached up to help her down.

She slid happily into his embrace.

“I can nae wait…” he said, his tone as strained as she felt. He pressed her back, kissing her as he plunged one hand into the neckline of her dress.

“Christ, how I’ve missed ye.”

She bumped into the wall but didn’t care. She was too busy trying to find his skin. She tore at the buttons on his doublet, and then the ones on his shirt, purring when she bared his skin at last.

“Want me, do ye?” he asked.

He’d grasped a handful of her hair and pulled it just tight enough to send a prickle of pain across her scalp. His eyes were full of need, and she would have sworn his nostrils were flared.

It was blunt.

And carnal.

She raked her fingernails down the bare skin of his chest. “I want ye to satisfy me.”

He shuddered, his body flinching before he kissed her.

Hard, savagely, and completely satisfying. She rose on her toes, pressing her mouth to his, opening her lips and boldly thrusting her tongue.

He growled and bit her softly on the side of the neck.

She arched against him as desire slammed into her like a lightning strike.

He grasped her skirts, dragging them up until he could cup her bottom. It was pawing, but it twisted her insides with an intensity that forced a gasp past her lips.

He was lifting her up, using his body to push her against the wall. She clasped his shoulders and locked her legs around his waist.

“That’s it, lass…cling to me. I swear to Christ, I’ll die if ye do nae.”

He pressed into her, plunging his length deep. She gasped, arching toward him as she used her legs to pull him to her. The wall was rough against her back, but it gave her a solid place to take the hard ride Bhaic gave her.

She didn’t care. Honestly didn’t have any room in her head for thoughts.

There was only the need and the delight churning inside her. Like two sides of a coin, it was impossible to separate them. She craved him, and he satisfied her with every hard thrust. But the moment he withdrew, she hungered again. Bhaic felt it too, riding her with more strength, greater speed, until it all burst. She clung to him because the alternative was to fly apart.

He ground himself into her, his seed hot against her insides.

“Christ…” He nuzzled against her neck, kissing the spot he’d bitten. “I should nae have done that.”

“I am no’ complaining.” She sounded husky, and he chuckled softly.

“Well now…ye were doing a fair bit of yelling…”

She slapped his shoulder and unlocked her legs. “There’s the thanks I get for giving ye a warm welcome home.”

Her skirts settled, but she was still leaning against the wall. Bhaic stroked her cheek, his eyes flickering with a warmth that touched her deeply.

“It was a fine welcome, lass. One I’ll no’ forget.”

For a moment, she was struck deeply by how tender his gaze was. The loneliness that seemed her constant companion evaporated as he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. It was as though he was the other part of her. She hadn’t realized she’d longed for him until he’d returned.

Men were starting to make their way into the stables now, horses snorting, happy to be home. Bhaic’s stallion had found an empty stall and was busy eating.

Bhaic backed away from her, turning to begin relieving his stallion of its saddle. She watched for a moment, soaking him up.

* * *

Shamus was in good cheer at supper, slapping the table and laughing as he retold stories. The hall was full of more life than it had been. Ailis sat at the high table longer than she had in weeks, nibbling on a piece of bread. The staff knew not to fill her plate, but Bhaic stared at the empty place with a question on his face.

She shook her head, not wanting to pull him away from his father. But Shamus caught her motion.

“Have eyes only for yer wife?” he demanded. “Well now, I recall being much the same way. Off to bed with ye. I’m looking forward to a grandson.”

Bhaic pushed his chair back, and hers as well. He clasped her hand and pulled her above stairs at a speed that had her heart pounding.

For all that she’d slept in his chamber while he was gone, she felt shy with him there now. There was still so much about him she didn’t know.

Like what he’ll do now that his seed has taken root…

It was a fear, and she couldn’t deny it. More than one man left his wife to the duty of growing his babe while he enjoyed dallying with others. It was possible Bhaic might think his duty complete, at least as far as sharing her bed.

The slipper tub was still in the chamber, the water emptied.

“I should have bathed before having ye welcome me home,” he said softly, “but I could nae help meself.”

He came up behind her, closing his arms around her. “But now…”

He nuzzled her neck, pressing a soft kiss against it and then kissing his way to her collarbone.

“Yes?” she asked. “Now…what?”

A soft chuckle was his response before he stepped away from her just enough to get at the laces on the back of her dress.

“Now, I am going to enjoy spending the night in bed, with me wife.” His voice had a wicked promise in it.

Her bodice sagged, and he eased it over her shoulders and down her arms.

“I’m sure the Earl of Morton would be pleased.”

He grunted behind her and found the lace that kept her skirts tied about her waist.

“Fate has a strange sense of humor,” he said. “I’d have cheerfully run the man through a season ago.”

Her skirts puddled around her ankles, and she turned around as she stepped free of them.

“Go to me bed.” His tone was edged with demand, but a needy form of it she never would have thought she’d ever crave. “I want to see ye waiting there for me.”

She tugged off her chemise, standing for a moment in nothing but her skin. His gaze swept her from head to toe, his features sharpening as he began to disrobe. Ailis took a step back when his kilt hit the floor.

And another step when he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt.

Two more when he reached behind his neck to yank the garment over his head, leaving him standing in only his boots.

He still didn’t look vulnerable.

No, not Bhaic MacPherson.

He propped his foot on a chair and started to pull the lace that held the antler-horn buttons closed on it. Her attention slipped to those buttons, a sudden memory surfacing of Lye Rob’s silver ones. Bhaic wasn’t one to cater to fashion or vanity.

It was that strength of character that drew her to him. He dropped the boot and worked the other one loose.

“Hmmm,” he said softly as he came toward her, “what will it take to make ye properly submissive?”

She chuckled. “Ye do nae truly want such.”

He was looming over her now, his greater height making her breath catch. “Telling me what I want now as well?”

She reached out and stroked his thighs. His lips thinned, the reaction fascinating her.

“Enjoying yer power over me?”

She lifted one shoulder. “It seems only…fair.”

He stroked the sides of her bare body. She’d never realized her skin might be so sensitive.

Or a simple touch so erotic.

She shivered, allowing her eyes to close as she savored the moment.

There was another thing she’d never realized before. How a single moment might be so soul moving.

“Surprising…is nae it…”

Ailis opened her eyes to find Bhaic watching her face. He drew his fingers down her sides again, slowly, so very slowly as he gazed at her.

“Is it no’ always this way?” she asked, her tone a breathless whisper. There had to be something wicked about discussing such a topic.

“No.”

He drew his hands around and stroked her belly until he closed his fingers over her breasts, cupping them and holding them. She shuddered with delight, her heart pounding.

“Believe me, I have never been so captivated by a woman reaching for me as I am by ye,” he said softly.

She rose up on her toes, seeking out his lips, needing his kiss. There was a haven in the intimacy, one she craved above all others. It was some mixture of physical pleasure and spiritual intimacy A place where she was no longer alone.

He lifted her up; she wasn’t even sure just how. Only that they were soon among the bedding, his body hard and heavy against hers. She twisted against him, spreading her thighs in welcome as he kissed her long and deeply, taking his time with the cover of darkness to cloak them, just the embers from the hearth glowing.

The need built in her, rising to a slow boil this time. Her passage was sore, but he eased his length into her, withdrawing and thrusting in slow motions until her body relaxed. By then she was wet and welcoming, her bud pulsing with hunger. Bhaic didn’t leave her unsatisfied. He moved against her, his jaw drawing tight as he held back his own release. She arched up to take him. He held her hands down to keep her in place as he pushed her toward release with a final few strokes.

They were hard.

Possessive.

Perhaps even arrogant, but she tumbled over the edge into bliss under the motion of his demanding thrusts. Her body was eager to be the vessel for his seed, every muscle she had straining upward, toward him in a bid to make him as mindless as she was.

He growled when he lost the battle, his body drawing tight as he buried himself to the hilt. His seed flooded her before he rolled over, the bed ropes groaning as he dropped heavily onto the bed.

“I meant to be…more caring…”

She turned to look at him. “Ye were. Ye always have been.”

He reached out to smooth her hair away from her face. “I thought about it…about ye every night.” His eyes flashed with something, some emotion that touched off a similar one inside her.

He rolled onto his side and propped his head on his hand. “I thought about how much I missed the sound of yer breathing next to me.”

It was an unexpected compliment.

It warmed her. She rolled toward him, filling her senses with his scent, and sighed.

* * *

“Ye seem to have neglected to tell me brother yer news.”

Marcus was leaning in the passageway, concealed in the shadows as supper finished up. For how large a man he was, he was rather well accomplished in the art of hiding in the shadows.

“And ye continue to be very well-informed on the personal details of my marriage,” Ailis said.

Marcus had his arms crossed over his chest. “Ye must admit, mistress, having a Robertson wed to me brother is something unexpected enough to draw attention.”

“It’s been months now.”

“Aye,” he conceded, “and ye’ve done well.”

She had. Ailis didn’t counsel herself against the rise of pride, because it was hard earned. “It is the first spring I have no’ had to attend a funeral in a long time.”

Marcus nodded, his expression grim with memory.

“Of course now, we’re feuding with the Gordons.”

“Were ye truly at peace with them?” she challenged him. “Lye Rob seemed intent on wedding me in order to have the numbers to match yers. I know me father always forbade me to be in the hall when he was there. He often said, with the Gordons, he never knew just where he stood.”

“Well, there is that.”

Marcus wasn’t going to concede any further. Ailis decided it was part of his nature. Helen moved past them, drawing his attention.

“When are ye going to take her home?” Ailis asked, feeling just a bit guilty about using Helen’s plight to change the subject.

Marcus stiffened but clamped his mouth closed.

Ailis smiled. “Well now, ye are no’ the only one who can be pushing their noses into the private affairs of others, saying it’s on account of wanting to protect those ye care about. Helen is important to me.”

Marcus chuckled softly. It was a menacing sound and reminded her of Bhaic.

“Is it a bargain ye want, lass?” he asked her. “An agreement to let ye deal with me brother in yer own time, and in return, ye will forget to mention to me father that I have nae heeded his command concerning Helen?”

“I wish to tell me husband meself,” she admitted. “And I am no’ sure why it concerns ye. There is no threat from waiting a few days more before saying anything.”

“Providing ye do nae do anything foolish.” His gaze dropped to her belly. “That is me blood growing there. MacPherson blood, which I’m sworn to protect.”

She gasped, slapping her hand over her mouth to smother her horror. “I would…never…” She gagged.

She wasn’t so sheltered she didn’t know what he was talking about. There were ways to unseat a growing babe. Plants that would see the job done.

“Well then.” He straightened up. “I suppose I can stop having yer maids watched. But I do confess to being curious as to why ye have nae told me brother. The pair of ye do seem to be getting along far better than anyone might have hoped for. I simply wish to be sure, before raising yer brother’s hopes.”

And that was the very root of why she hadn’t told Bhaic about the baby growing inside her.

She knew it was true now, even if she hadn’t yet felt it move. It had been over two cycles since she’d bled, and her queasy belly still hadn’t settled. She couldn’t stand the sight of raw meat. Even after it was cooked, her belly still rebelled most of the time.

The midwife claimed it would pass as her belly began to round. Bhaic would know when that happened. The question that weighed on her mind was what would he do? Would he put her from his bed? Consider his duty satisfied?

It shouldn’t have bothered her so much. Men often did such things.

But it tore at her heart. Just the thought made her eyes sting with tears.

She climbed up the stairs, the sight of the chamber she’d first used making her sniffle.

Men had so many more rights than women when it came to marriage. No doubt if Bhaic put her from him, she would have to be content with her place.

Stop it! Ye are convicting the man without evidence…

She tried to concentrate on the fact that Bhaic had always been kind to her.

Well, he’s always wanted ye in his chamber too…

Yet, it still seemed like his chamber as she entered it. Even though rooms didn’t have genders, she looked at the large wooden chairs and tables and just felt like it suited a man. The bed was huge, the canopy a dark green.

Once she’d disrobed and crawled between the sheets, she noticed Bhaic’s scent. It was soothing as she drifted off to sleep. But her mind was still full of turmoil, picking and poking at the unknown future coming her way.

But her dreams were kind. Full of sunshine and bliss. She warmed as though in the middle of an August day, feeling perspiration break out on her skin.

And it felt good.

So very delicious.

She was twisting in the grip of pleasure, craving it, straining toward it. All of it centered under her bud.

She gasped and opened her eyes, realizing she was more awake than asleep. The room was only faintly light, the predawn light falling over Bhaic’s head of raven black hair where it was nestled between her spread thighs.

“Bhaic…”

Her voice was a raspy whisper.

“Hmmm?” He swept his tongue along her open folds, sending a jolt of intense need through her. She wanted to argue.

Needed to say…something…

But he was teasing her little pearl, worrying it with his tongue. She was arching up, lifting toward him, her hands twisting in the bedding as her eyes slid shut.

It had to be wrong.

But it felt so good. She was on the edge of climax, her own little sounds of enjoyment filling the chamber. Her body drew tight as he sucked on her, adding just enough pressure to send her spiraling out of control. The pleasure gripped her and wrung her like a wet cloth. She forgot to breathe because it was so intense, twisting and jerking as it spread through her.

When she came to her senses, Bhaic was watching her, his fingers still playing softly over her tender folds.

“Ye…should…nae have…done that.”

He rose up, giving her a glimpse of his hard body. The sheer erotic nature of the moment made her breathless once more. Details fell aside, becoming meaningless. She lifted her arms in welcome, earning a growl from him.

He came to her, covering her and settling into her open thighs. He nuzzled her hair, the scent of her own body clinging to him as he seated himself deeply inside her.

His member was hard, but she was so wet from his attentions, he slid smoothly into her. He was breathing hard, the sounds harsh and so very male. She lifted toward him, feeling him draw tight, his member hardening further before his seed was flooding her.

“Sweet Christ…”He rolled over, pulling her along with him and settling her head against his chest. “Ye have become an addiction, Ailis.”

She traced one of the ridges of muscles on his chest with her fingers, trying to absorb every detail about him. Tiny things she had never noticed about other men fascinated her when it came to Bhaic. She felt as if time was slipping through her grasp, just as the grains of sand flowed through an hourglass.

It might be their last moment together before he learned of the babe growing inside her.

“I am going to do that to ye again, lass…”

She tapped his chest with her fingertip. Shyness gripped her, but so did the unmistakable knowledge that she’d enjoyed it full well.

She’d be a hypocrite to argue.

His chest rumbled with amusement. “No agreement? Good. Me charms are working on ye.” He stroked the hair back from her face.

“None that would nae make me a liar.”

He made a low sound under his breath, one that said he was unmistakably pleased. “As I noticed when I met ye, ye are most definitely a woman.”

She choked on her amusement. “And as ye informed me on our wedding night…ye enjoy companions who are women enough to enjoy being intimate with a man.”

He rolled her over, coming up on his elbow while she was on her back. His blue eyes were pensive. “Would ye rather have cold duty?”

She fought the urge to look away. It was a private moment, and yet, one she realized she needed to share with him if she didn’t want to feel the bite of loneliness. “No. Truly.”

His lips curved, victory shimmering in his eyes.

“Do nae be so smug now,” she warned him.

His grin became only more roguish. “I earned it. No’ just any man can take the time to be a good lover.” He leaned down, hovering over her lips as he cupped one of her breasts. “And ye enjoyed it full well,”

She ended up looking away, uncertain. He reached out and stroked her cheek, gently bringing her face around to him again.

“We truly need a honeymoon.”

She laughed. “This is the Highlands, not some palace.”

He looked up at the stonework that formed the tower they were in. “Still, it’s a fine chamber, is it no’?”

She realized what he was asking. “Finer than the one I was raised in. But me brother has ideas about adding to Robertson Castle.”

He nodded, toying with her hair as the room brightened with the dawn.

“I enjoy most of all that ye took the time,” she said. It was a confession, one that came from her unsteady emotions. One born inside her desire to find herself at home in his world.

His expression became sensual, his eyes flickering with pleasure. In that moment, she felt settled and cherished. She lifted her shoulders off the bed, seeking his mouth with hers. Kissing him to keep any thoughts from spoiling it.

Reality would return soon enough.

* * *

Ailis looked up in the late afternoon. There was something happening in the yard.

“What is that?” Ailis asked.

Duana surprised her by answering, “A party of Grants. Looking for shelter for the night, no doubt.”

There was still a line of clanswomen waiting to see her. Most of them had children with them that they intended to discuss apprenticeships for. Serving in the castle started young because it instilled loyalty, and those who knew no other home were far less likely to agree to poison the laird. She couldn’t leave them without hearing their cases, but failing to welcome guests would also be looked on as a slight. The women watching her knew it, their expressions becoming strained. Some of them had spent days on the road, traveling from the villages that dotted the MacPherson land.

“Duana, please welcome our guests and tell them I shall attend them as soon as my duties permit.”

The Head of House hesitated for a moment, but her features remained serene. She slowly lowered herself. “Yes, mistress.”

It wasn’t so much what the Head of House had done or said as the reaction to it. The women turning bread nodded, the young lads who helped out in the kitchens watching it all with their impressionable eyes.

Three months. So short a time.

Well now, ye did get shot…

She smiled and focused on the little girl in front of her.

Ailis didn’t make it back to the hall until the cook was setting out supper. Her belly was still queasy, but she had to make an appearance. Near the high ground, there were Grant retainers tonight. Only about a dozen, but their plaids stood out.

She’d almost made it to the stairs when she spotted the woman sitting at the high table. Whoever she was, she was stunning, her cheekbones high and her skin flawless. She had sparkling blue eyes and a head of auburn hair that looked as though the setting sun was trapped in it. Men were watching her, enchanted by her. She had a soft laugh and seemed to know exactly how to mesmerize the men.

But what chilled Ailis’s blood was that she was aiming her eyelash flutters at Bhaic.

And her husband was enjoying every moment of it.

Someone cleared their throat, and then several others did the same. Bhaic looked up, catching sight of her.

“Ah…me wife, at last.”

He got up and pulled a chair out for her. Ailis settled into it, happy to be between the woman and Bhaic.

* * *

Supper seemed to last for a small eternity. Tonight it was Brenda Grant who made Ailis long to escape the high ground. She toyed with her meal until at last she could excuse herself without drawing too much attention.

She didn’t escape Bhaic’s notice, though. He followed her into the passageway, catching her wrist and pulling her to a stop when she’d been intent on going above stairs to hide.

“Ailis?” His keen stare was cutting into her. “What’s wrong?”

She bit her lower lip, trying to find a way to state her concerns without sounding jealous.

Well, ye are jealous…

Still, she didn’t want to sound like a harpy. But she certainly felt like one. Brenda was beyond lovely. Half the men in the hall had drooled over her fair features. What had bothered Ailis the most was the way the woman seemed to know exactly how to keep those men hanging on her every word.

So, there was no reason to be a harpy. She swallowed and smoothed her expression as Brenda had been doing. Bhaic’s lips curved into a grin. A little spark of victory warmed her, burning away some of her concern.

At least until Brenda arrived.

“Oh…there ye are. There is going to be music,” Brenda said. “A delightful way to spend the evening. Come, Bhaic.”

Her voice was sweet temptation. She walked out into the hall, the candlelight making her hair shimmer. She gave Bhaic a come-hither look over her shoulder.

It was the first time Ailis truly understood what a come-hither look was.

And it was aimed at her husband.

“Ye do nae need to be jealous of Brenda,” he said.

There was a touch of amusement in his voice, but his attention remained on Brenda. It tore something inside her. White-hot pain piercing her heart.

“And there was no reason for ye to be so concerned about me dancing on the green with Lye Rob,” she said.

He snapped his attention back to her.

“Ye’re missing the fun…” Brenda’s voice was lyrical. She stepped into the passageway, taking a moment to glance over her shoulder. When she turned her attention back to Bhaic, her lips were set into a sensual smile, which froze when she spotted Ailis.

“Shouldn’t ye be off to bed?” Brenda asked. “Ye’ve both done yer duty well enough. So long as ye are strong enough to carry that babe to term. Best take yerself off to sleep now. Do nae worry about yer husband’s needs. I’ll see to those.”

Of course she would.

It was the thing Ailis had feared and had told herself not to worry about. Men had more rights in a marriage. It was simply fact.

Yet it did bother her. So greatly she turned around and headed up the stairs, tears filling her eyes. She stopped at the second floor, pushing in the doors before her breath caught on a sob.

Ye’ll no’ cry!

She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and drew in a deep breath to clear her head.

“What are ye doing here?”

She turned around, finding Bhaic in the center of her chamber. He pushed the door shut behind him, blocking Helen outside.

“What are ye doing here?” she echoed his question.

“Wondering why ye are here and no’ in our chamber.”

He stepped closer, something flickering in his eyes. “Are ye with child?”

She couldn’t help but smile a bit. “The midwife believes so.”

“Christ, Ailis.” He closed his eyes, his expression tightening. “Ye should have told me…before I handled ye so roughly.”

The memory of him coming up the road teased her cheeks with heat. But it also filled her with lament, for it might have been the last time he paid her such attention. “Ye did nae give me much chance.”

He stepped toward her. “I would have listened to ye. ’Tis never been my way to be harsh with ye.”

There was a hard note in his voice, one that reprimanded her justly.

She shrugged. “I was as heated as ye were.”

And worried that he’d no’ want ye if he knew his duty was satisfied.

He muttered an oath in Gaelic and caught her close, wrapping his arms around her and holding her when she tried to wiggle away.

“Do nae be jealous of Brenda. I can nae change what I did before we wed.”

She pushed him back. It was like trying to move a wall, but he snorted and released her.

“Are ye planning to take her as a mistress?”

Surprise flashed across his face before his expression hardened. “No. But I’m planning on carrying ye back to me chamber, since ye seem to be trying to escape it again.”

He scooped her up and carried her past Finley and Helen. The flight of stairs between the two floors was gone in a flash. Bhaic didn’t let her down until he’d moved far into the bedchamber.

“It bothers me to see ye doubting me, Ailis.”

“Well, it bothers me to see ye flirting with yer mistress.”

Bhaic crossed his arms over his chest. “Brenda is no’ me mistress.”

“She was yer lover,” Ailis retorted. “And she clearly came here the moment she heard I was carrying. There is only one reason for her arrival.”

Bhaic suddenly chuckled, his lips splitting into a grin. His amusement frayed her already sore feelings. She swatted him and slapped his arms when he tried to enclose her in his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her anyway, pressing soft kisses against her temples and cheeks until she quieted.

“It is not…amusing,” she said at last, horrified by the rough sound of her voice.

He cupped her chin and raised her face so their gazes met. “No, lass, the fact that ye care for me is no’ amusing. It is precious. Very precious to me. Never doubt it.”

She pushed against him, hissing when he wouldn’t release her, but the sound came out as more of a whimper.

“I did nae invite Brenda.”

Ailis stilled and searched his eyes. Nothing but sincerity stared back at her. “Then why is she here? And so certain ye will put me aside now that yer duty to me is finished?”

“Because everyone in the Highlands seems to think they need to be involved in our marriage,” he exclaimed. “Why should this moment be any different?”

She couldn’t help but smile at his words.

He grunted. “Me duty to ye will never be finished. Not in this lifetime or the next.” He placed a soft kiss against her lips. “And I am going to have the bed taken out of the chamber below us so ye understand I will nae be having ye anywhere but by me side.”

It was everything she’d been so sure she’d never hear from him. She rested her hand against his chest, feeling the beating of his heart and trying to make herself believe him.

“Ye are the keeper of me heart, lass. I must hold ye near and hope ye’ll soften toward me.”

The tears she’d tried so hard to fend off trickled down her cheeks. He caught them with his fingertips. “Ye’ve already stolen me heart, MacPherson.”

His lips curved into a roguish grin. “In that case, be very, very sure that I have no intention of ever returning it.”

She reached up and stroked his cheek, settling against him completely. “I’ll just keep yers in its place.”

“Ye do that.”

She would.

Because there was nothing she craved from him more than his love.