Heart of the Highlander Read online

  Muren was, too. She prayed that once Ronan learned of her marriage to Rorie, the whole business would be dropped and they could begin their lives together.

  A knock sounded at the door, and her mother went to answer it. She nodded and closed the door again.

  “Who was it?” Muren asked.

  “It was Ewen. He said Father Iain is ready and awaiting us at the chapel.”

  Muren drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was the moment she had longed for, and now that it was here she was filled with trepidation. Not because of how she felt about Rorie, but of all the other things that would be affected if she went through with it. Was her marriage to him somehow connected to the wound he would receive? If, in fact, there was any possible truth to the dream she had, as Ada suggested.

  Her mother pulled her into an embrace. “You carry the weight of a castle on your shoulders, love. You always have. Today you join with an honourable man who will share that burden with you.”

  Muren had not thought about it that way. Mayhap marrying Rorie would prevent his injury. Mulling over the future was starting to bring on an ache in the back of her neck that she dreaded. God, please not now. Muren drew another deep breath and let it out slowly. Her mother passed her a small pouch.

  “This is from Ada. She said to smell it at the beginning of a head ache, and it will help keep it at bay.”

  Muren took the pouch. Though she had a nagging feeling the woman did not know lungwort from hogwort, she did trust that her intentions were pure and that she would not intentionally harm her.

  As she inhaled, she tried to determine what the pouch contained. Aside from pepper and valeria, the primary scent Muren could detect was rosemary. As soon as she inhaled, her whole body relaxed. Muren looked at the contents closer and, sure enough, there was crushed rosemary inside. She inhaled again, and the ache in the back of her head subsided completely. Tucking it into her sleeve, she smiled at her mother.

  “The woman might be good for something, after all.”

  “Muren!”

  The comment was too harsh by far, and in truth, Muren was not quite sure where it came from. “I am sorry.”

  “You have been under much pressure, love. But, despite these things, never forget who you are. And highlighting someone else’s faults only highlights your own.”

  Her words resonated with Muren. And there was no doubt that the effects of the last fortnight had taken a toll on her and her usual ability to see more than one side to a situation.

  “Thank you, Mama,” she said. “I am very fortunate to have you to guide me.”

  A knock sounded at the door again. This time, it opened, and Ewen stepped inside. “Are you ready, or do you need another hour?”

  Muren smiled. He was so much more carefree than Rorie, which made sense considering he did not carry the weight of clan responsibility. Muren liked him, despite his reputation with the ladies.

  “Aye, Ewen. I am ready.”

  Ewen offered his arm and proceeded toward the entrance of the chapel. Muren squared her shoulders and held tight onto Ewen’s arm as they proceeded up the aisle and toward Rorie. Her breath caught. He was dressed in a deerskin tunic with gold belt, and his plaid over his shoulder with his brooch pin holding it in place. The clan’s motto was I Shine Not Burn. This would soon be her motto, too.

  As she neared him, Rorie smiled at her. All the trepidation and worry fell away as she beheld the promise in his eyes. When they were together, she feared little. When they were apart, she feared almost everything. And she despised fear. She prayed that this union would do just as her mother had predicted; help shoulder the burden she had carried alone for so long.

  Rorie had witnessed many of her headaches now, and even when it was really bad, he had not abandoned her. Rather, he had stayed by her side and protected her when she was at her most vulnerable.

  He was her lifeline. Now she would be his, too. He deserved more from her than she had given of late. Regarding him now, she made a silent promise to love and cherish him forever. When she smiled back at him, she heard the air hiss through his teeth as though he’d been holding his breath. His dimples deepened and his eyes crinkled. Muren’s heart soared as he took her hand and squeezed.

  I love you, she mouthed.

  * * *

  Rorie’s heart was near bursting when he realized what she had just said to him. This woman was more important to him than his own life, and she was about to be his now and forever. The exchanging of vows was like a blur to him. After what felt like seconds, the priest told him he could kiss her and she would be his.

  Rorie cupped her face with his hands. He bent low and brushed his lips across hers. The scent of the flowers in her hair and the softness of her made him want her like he’d never wanted anything more in his entire life.

  “You are finally mine,” he said as they sat together at the table, while a feast was laid out before them.

  “I have always been yours,” she said.

  “Not always,” he said. “There was a time recently I was not so sure.”

  “I think even then, in my hour of doubt, I knew deep down I was yours, and you were mine.”

  He leaned close to her and kissed the delicate skin beneath her ear. “I cannot wait to show you just how much you mean to me. Do you think anyone would mind if we retired early?”

  He loved the sound of her laughter that followed his scandalous suggestion. Of course, they were expected to remain, and feast, and celebrate with his family. But secretly, he wished they would all get up and leave.

  After hours of eating and storytelling and well wishing, the time finally came for them to retire. One by one, the servants cleared the table and his family, clansmen, and Morag, left the lodge to retire to the other further dwelling. They would walk there together, with lanterns so as to find their way in the dark. Before long it was just Rorie and Muren seated at the table, with the fire slowly transforming into a red glow.

  “Will you join me in our bedchamber, my lady?”

  She took his hand and squeezed. “Aye, my lord. Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”

  “And great pleasure you will receive, my lady.”

  Inside the chamber, Rorie slid his hands around Muren’s waist and pulled her against his chest, pressing his pelvis into her behind. When she wiggled her hips, she stoked his manhood, bringing him to erection quickly. He pulled her hair to one side and grazed his teeth across her neck, making her gasp.

  Two could play at that game. Rorie unfastened her girdle and let it slip to the floor. He then gripped her skirt and tugged up until his hand caressed her inner thigh. Muren laid her head back against his shoulder as he stoked the delicate flesh between her legs. With his other hand, he reached up to cup her breast and squeezed hard. She gasped again and broke free from his grasp.

  Turning toward him, she slipped one shoulder free from her gown and started to untie the sides so that the gown was let loose. Rorie reached for her, but she stepped back from his hand. Giggling, she slipped the gown over her head and tossed it at him. He quickly tossed it over his head and undid his belt, letting it drop to the floor with a loud thunk. He let his plaid fall to the floor then and removed his tunic so that he stood before her wearing only his boots. Slipping them off, he took a step toward her but again she stepped back.

  “Do you mean to tease me all night, wife?” he asked in a hoarse voice. Her nipples were hardened and poking through her thin shift. She removed her wreath of flowers and also tossed that at him.

  “I want to enjoy our time together tonight, not have it over with too quickly,” she said in a teasing manner.

  “Oh, you will be pleasured, my lady. That I assure you,” he said and stomped toward her. This time he caught her around the waist. In one swift move, he removed her shift and tossed it aside. Now that she was completely naked before him, he held her by the shoulders and gently pushed her back onto the bed so he could admire her form.

  Her firm breasts begged for hi
s touch, but he took his time and let his gaze drift downward across her flat belly, and further to the apex of her thighs where they would soon join.

  “Please touch me,” she said.

  Rorie needed no further encouragement and joined her on the bed, lying partly on top of her. He stroked the outside of her thighs, slowly working his way inward as he reached down and pulled on one firm nipple with his teeth. He let go and then sucked hard. Muren’s hips raised in response, allowing him to slip his hand in between her thighs and discover the wetness awaiting him. She was ready, but he wanted her to be pleasured many times this night. He would hold onto his own climax for as long as he could.

  Rorie spread her thighs and slipped two fingers inside her as he sucked hard on one nipple then another. When her hand enclosed around his erection, he was sure he would lose his seed, but instead, he pulled back and repositioned himself so that he could taste her sweetness.

  Slipping one, two, then three fingers inside of her and stroking deep, he located her hardened bud and sucked hard. He increased the rhythm of his fingers in time with this sucking motion, marveling in the way her body arched higher and higher off the bed. He looked up to see her gripping the bedclothes, with her head back and her breasts thrust upright. Christ, he needed her now.

  In a swift move, he thrust hard and deep within her and then hesitated as he realized that this was only her third time and her body may not be prepared for the force of his passion.

  “Oh God, Rorie, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  Rorie slid his hands underneath her shoulders and thrust deep within her again and again, pounding hard into her as he chased his own orgasm. Her body squeezed around his erection, and her legs tightened around his waist as he felt her whole body tighten around his. He was close, but he could still hang on just a little longer. With each wave of her climax, she shuddered a little more until he felt her relax. Rorie slowed his pace until just the tip of him entered her over and over. Her body squeezed around him as her passion built again.

  Rorie leaned down and captured her lips with his as he thrust harder and faster than he ever had in his life. She tugged on his shoulders and ground her hips into his until he could barely move within her. A tingling began in his lower spine and spread through his pelvis. At the moment when her body pulsed around his for the second time, his orgasm washed over him. He thrust forward hard, holding there for a second before he shuddered and thrust forward again. Each time he stopped, buried deep within her, he could feel her body squeeze around him then release. Her climax never seemed to end, only prolonging his.

  Rorie opened his eyes to watch her tightly-shut eyes and furrowed brow. He slowed his pace and stroked while watching and feeling her body twitch in response to his. When she let her arms and legs drop, he slipped out of her and lay by her side. His heart raced, and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat from their passion. Rorie lay flat on his back staring up at the canopy made from various coloured plaids. He wondered if there was a way for them to simply stay there forever, buried in each other’s arms, and loving each other until they were totally depleted. What a dream that would be. But it was just a dream. They needed to face reality soon enough and return to answer for the decision they had made this day.

  Rorie hoped that in the days and weeks to come no harm would come to her or to his family. The king was stubborn—nothing was certain at this point.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Muren had the most wonderful dream. In it, she and Rorie rode through the countryside on horseback, his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her tight, while his heart pounded in time with the horse’s hooves and his thick erection pressed against her backside.

  She pressed back against him and let her head fall back on his shoulder. Slowing the horse to a trot, he held onto the reins with one hand and used the other to cup her breast. She loved the feeling it drew from her body, loved the way he touched and caressed every inch of her in his adoration, and the pleasure he gave her so freely.

  A huge clap of thunder drew their attention to the south close to the castle, and so they turned the horse in that direction and galloped toward it. Another large clap, followed by another and another, made Muren cower from the coming storm. Rorie placed his plaid around them both and rode harder as the rains pelted down onto them and lightning flashed in the sky.

  A deafening boom, boom, boom, made her sit up in bed with a jerk. Rorie was snoring beside her, and a thick quilt had been tossed off them both.

  Boom, boom, boom.

  Muren shook Rorie’s shoulder.

  “Do you hear that?”

  “What?”

  Boom. Boom.

  Rorie then sat upright.

  “Someone is pounding on the door.”

  “Aye,” she said, wanting to hide under the bed. “What should we do?”

  Rorie slipped out of bed and threw his tunic over his head. He looked back at her from the doorway with a grin. “We answer it.”

  When he closed the door. Muren grabbed her shift and woolen gown and quickly put it on. If her brother had finally caught up with them, she would at least go dignified. Looking around the chamber, she spied an axe and two long swords mounted on the wall. Climbing up onto a trunk, she pulled the axe from the wall and approached the door, pressed her ear to it, and listened. The only sound she could discern was muffled voices.

  She lifted the latch and pulled open the door. Creeping out into the hall, she was careful not to make any noise that would give away her presence.

  “You have no right!” Rorie said.

  “Aye, that we do and you know it,” a second gruff voice said.

  “Tell me why you come yourself, instead of sending your war chief.”

  “You know why.”

  “Nay, I do not. ’Tis my wedding night you have interrupted for this nonsense, and I will have a reason for it and not some foolishness about who owns this island.”

  Muren crept farther toward the outer hall. Peeking around the corner, she could see Rorie’s back, and it looked like his arms were folded across his chest. His legs were spread apart, and overall, he looked like he was not threatened by the other man.

  He was as tall as Rorie but broader if that was possible. With long, light brown hair and a well-kept beard, the man wore a formidable expression, with a stare that she was sure could turn a man to stone.

  “Your wedding night?”

  “Aye.”

  “Christ’s teeth, man, I didn’t know that. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  Rorie shook his head. “Well, now that you are here, you might as well sit and tell me what has made you cross to Rona at this early hour.”

  It was then Muren noticed the soft grey underneath the door. All the window shutters had been closed so she could not tell until then what time of day it was.

  The two men sat, and Rorie reached for a trencher and two goblets that had been left out for them. She leaned closer to hear better when the floorboard creaked beneath her feet. Rorie turned around and locked gaze with her then grinned.

  He flicked his head in her direction as he turned back to the man. “I have all the protection I need, William.”

  The man named William looked at her and smiled. “You’ve no need to be afraid, lass,” he said. “I am William MacLeod. I come with news for the MacKenzie, and I suspect you are the Muren I’ve been hearing so much about.”

  Muren moved closer and took a seat across from both men. Rorie passed her a goblet of ale and poured himself another. Did he think she needed alcohol in order to receive the news MacLeod would share?

  “You cannot stay here.”

  “I can stay here,” Rorie replied. “I told you our grandfathers had an agreement.”

  “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. If it were up to me, I would say stay here as long as you want. But the reality is, if I could find out you’re here so easily, I’m sure the king’s scouts could as well.”

  “There was someone here a sennight a
go,” Muren said.

  “Aye, those two were my men. My scouts saw the ship heading to Rona, and we had to be sure who it was. But since then, I’ve had a pigeon from Ross saying there are rumblings of the king heading north with an army.”

  “Christ’s teeth, how did he manage that so soon?”

  “I do not know, but I am certain the Douglas has something to do with it. MacKenzie, you know we’ll stand with you, but I have to know something.”

  “Anything.”

  “Did you accept MacDonald lands from the king, in exchange for your broken betrothal?”

  “No. He did offer that, but I refused.”

  “That’s what I figured. The king must have had someone spread a rumour in order to pit you against the MacDonalds, so now they are saying they will not support you if you raise arms against the Stewart.”

  “But is it not just a simple matter of contacting the MacDonald and clarifying the truth?” Muren asked.

  “Have you met him?”

  “No, I have not,” Muren said.

  “He’s as stubborn and pig-headed as his father was,” MacLeod said.

  “Aye, that he is, but he assured me of his allegiance when I told him I would not accept the king’s offer. He assured me he would aide my cause.”

  “Something has to be done about the Stewart.”

  “Those are treasonous words, and I will not be a part of any plot,” Rorie said. “I have too much at stake and have offended him quite enough.”

  “They are just words,” MacLeod said. “And I am not the first one to voice them. He has done much damage since his return, and if we want to preserve our way of life, we need to do something about him.”

  “Who has spoken such words?”

  “Albany.”

  “Albany is just as power hungry as the Stewart. Believe me when I say we are all better off staying out of any conflict between those two. I suspect they will destroy one another before this is all over,” Rorie said.

  “Suit yourself. But you do understand that you are not safe here.”