Highland Magic (31 page)

And, after all, they’d be well wed by the
time the babe arrived. So, ‘twould arrive a bit early—‘twas not
such an unusual thing. Was it?

But, when to tell him? Her wedding night of
course! For what could be a better gift than that?

Another thought struck on the heel of the
last and Branwenn laughed out loud, though with just a bit of guilt
as well as she’d never want the lass to know she’d ever found even
one shred of humor in that mortifying situation. But she had
actually spoken to Alyson, at length, about the monthly cycle just
days past—and not once had it occurred to her that she, herself,
had missed two of them!

* * *

Gaiallard de Montfort stood at the base of
the incline that led up to the gate of the fortress. For a good bit
of coin, he’d left his steed, armor, and other supplies with the
old hag that lived in the wood that edged the sea. What he wore now
was the clothing he’d purchased off a silver merchant in the town
of Duglyn just after he’d arrived on the mainland.

Today, he’d do a bit of spying inside the
fortress. He was well enough disguised that, as long as he remained
outside the sights of Branwenn, Reys and Alyson, he’d be able to
get the information he sought with little effort.

And, on the morrow, he’d arrive as himself—as
planned.

* * *

“Give a promise to me,” Callum said sultrily
into Branwenn’s ear from behind the screen she had just positioned
herself in front of. ‘Twas late and the hall was filled with happy
revelers enjoying the minstrels’ show.

A thrill of excitement traveled like a
lightning bolt down her spine. She made a brief nod, but kept her
eyes strictly focused on the players several yards in front of
her.

She felt his grin of satisfaction against her
ear. “Stay perfectly still, completely silent, while I recite to
you all of the wicked things I shall be doing to that delectable
body of yours in just eighteen hours’ time.” He didn’t wait for a
response, but continued in a deeper tone, “First, I shall remove
that ridiculous veil that covers your lovely raven locks and toss
it in the hearthfire. Beshrew my grandmother for making you wear it
this eve!”

Branwenn chuckled despite herself, but
quickly sobered when the person in front of her turned to regard
her.

“For shame, my sweet,” Callum said, tho’
there was laughter in his tone. “For that transgression, you must
now make forfeit to me your timidity and give yourself the ultimate
pleasure this eve.”

Branwenn began to turn toward him, curious to
know his meaning, but Callum quickly checked the movement by
placing his hand at her waist.

“Nay love,” he said with a grin in his tone,
“you must not give anyone understanding that I am here with you
now, else they’ll surely separate us.” Giving her waist a slight
squeeze, he demanded gently, “Stay still.”

When she gave him an abbreviated nod of
assent, he explained, “Just as the midnight bells begin to chime—in
only one hour’s time—I shall expect you to be bare-skinned upon
your bed, and thinking of all the sensitive, oh-so-sweet, places on
your body that you would like to feel my hands, my mouth. And as
you do so, I want you to slowly run your fingertips over your
plump, pink lips and then suck them inside, wetting them with your
tongue.”

Branwenn’s shivered.

“Afterward, you must trail them from the
small shell of your ear, down your neck to that lovely, succulently
sweet, freckled breast”—Branwenn’s cheeks flamed—“and spend a
moment imagining the feast I shall be having tomorrow eve upon it.
And then do the same to the other one.”

“Callum!” she whispered, shocked to the core,
but tingling with awareness just the same.

He ignored her outburst. “When you have
readied them for my mouth, I want you to run your fingers down over
the soft skin of your midriff—for my tongue and teeth will take
delight in that adorable place as well, know you this well. But do
not tarry there for long, my sweet. Nay, those fingers of yours
will be my tongue’s proxy, and they must move ever further south,
to that feminine delta where I will finally be allowed to quench my
thirst and at long last drive my barge.”

Branwenn’s limbs quivered.
Her heart pounded with excitement—and not a little dread. He was
asking—demanding, actually—that she
touch
herself—
there!

Callum paused, his breath coming more rapidly
now as a soft sheen of sweat cooled his overheated skin. And his
betrothed was not so unmoved by his words, either, he noticed with
satisfaction. For her breathing was ragged, as well.

“You must move your fingers over those
lovely, scalloped inner lips, imagining that ‘tis my tongue there
instead. Find that hidden jewel at their peak and tease it, tickle
it, softly rub it until your delta trembles and quakes, sending
waves of love tide gushing forth. And when that happens—oh, sweet
heaven—when that happens, I want you to put two fingers inside
yourself and feel what I feel when you come around me.”

Branwenn shook her head slightly. Absolutely
not. Was he jesting? She certainly hoped so.

“Aye, you must, my love,” Callum urged. “And
know you why? Because at that same moment, I shall be in a like
condition upon my own lonely bed, finding my own release in the
same way, imagining my hand is your perfect, snug little canal
sending me to the stars.

He allowed his tone to turn pleading. “‘Tis
the only way we can make love together until we are wed, and I
cannot wait another night for you.” ‘Twas true. And tho’ it had not
been his intent when he’d first come upon her, now that he’d gone
through the entirety of the fantasy, he wanted badly for it to take
place. He’d kept his hand upon her waist as he’d given her his
erotic request. Now, he slowly stroked it up and down as he said,
“Do you agree, my love?”

Branwenn nodded. What else could she do? She
wanted to make love to him just as badly. And the knowledge that he
would be thinking of her in that way at the same time thrilled her
body and warmed her heart enough to give her the courage to do his
bidding.

“Til midnight, then,” he said, his words a
promise, and then he was gone before she had time to turn
around.

* * *

“You look so lovely, lass!” Grandmother
Maclean exclaimed as she walked through the doorway of Branwenn’s
bedchamber the next morn. “The pale lavender silk was a good
choice, I trow.”

“Aye, tho’ the purple violets and pink roses
that trim the neckline and sleeve were nearly the death of me!”
Maggie chimed in. “But, seeing how lovely you are in the gown,
makes the work well worth it.”

“The seamstress who made the gown did not do
the needlework?” Jesslyn asked.

“Nay,” Branwenn answered
for her soon-to-be mother-in-law. “I asked Aunt
Maggie—pardon—
Maggie
to do the stitching, for her skill is unmatched, I trow.” She
turned to Callum’s mother. “Beg pardon, I’m certain to someday
learn to simply call you by your name.”

Maggie smiled at her and gave her hand a
little squeeze.

“This filet will be lovely with the gown as
well,” Maryn said. Turning the hair ornament in her hand, she
stroked her fingertips over the filigreed design. “‘Tis truly
exquisite. May I try it on?”

Branwenn shrugged and nodded. “Aye.” She
tipped her head toward the corner table. “There is a looking glass
over there, if you wish.”

Maryn walked over to the table and, taking
off her own filet—she hated veils and rarely wore them—placed
Branwenn’s on top of her auburn-haired head and studied the
outcome. “‘Tis a bit small for me, but ‘tis beautiful!”

Maggie lifted Branwenn’s left hand. “And just
look at the ring Callum’s given her. ‘Twas his father and Chalmer’s
mother’s ring.”

“But, what ring will he give her later,
then?” Maryn turned and asked.

“There’s another portion, just a small band,
that will settle next to this one quite well. ‘Twas a set, I
believe. Her betrothal and wedding ring, as I recall. His
grandmother wanted Callum to have them to give to his bride.”

Branwenn yanked her hand back and looked more
closely at the ring. This was something Callum had not told her.
“Had he given this to Lara as well then?”

“Nay, lass!” Maggie said. “That union, as you
should know by now, was just barely a marriage. Why, ‘twas more a
bitter alliance than anything else. And her, carrying another man’s
bairn the entire time!”

This reminded Branwenn of her own childing
state and she nearly revealed the secret without meaning to when
she lifted her hand to place it on her belly, but quickly caught
the action and lifted her hand instead to her cheek and brushed her
hair away from it. She’d awakened with the sickness again this
morn, but was relieved that, after her initial purging, her stomach
settled. God be praised, she seemed to only feel horrid upon
waking.

Maggie shrugged. “Tho’ ‘tis
thrilled I am to have Laire for granddaughter.” Sighing and patting
Branwenn’s hand, she said, “Aye, it all turned out very well. Very
well indeed.” She looked first at her mother and then at Branwenn.
“Tho’ I would
never
have wished Lara the end she came to, ken me well on
that.”

“Aye,” Lady Maclean agreed, “the lady was
troubled, and she did cause a great deal of mischief during her
time at our own holding.” She gave Jesslyn a pointed look, and a
moment of understanding passed between them. For, Lara had tried
hard to come between Jesslyn and Bao—had even lied to Jesslyn to
make her believe that Bao had been unfaithful to her. Turning her
eye once more to Branwenn, Lady Maclean walked over to her and
began fussing with her gown, tugging the long, tight sleeves
further down and rearranging the hem to settle more attractively
about the bride-to-be’s feet. “There,” she said at last. “Now, we
must hustle you down to the chapel to meet your anxious
betrothed.”

* * *

“Did you do as I requested last night, love?”
Callum said into Branwenn’s ear as they waited, facing each other,
for the priest to come from behind the screen of the chancel and
begin his oration. They were on their knees at the altar, her hand
held lightly in his.

She felt the fire of her blush rush over her
skin and settle like two hotly glowing coals on her cheeks. She
nodded shyly. “Aye,” she whispered, barely audibly.

Callum grinned. He felt a bit of heat on his
own cheeks, also. “I, as well.” He softly stroked his thumb over
the top of her dainty fingers. “You look lovely in that gown.
Beautiful. Tho’ I confess, I cannot wait to take it off you.”

“Of what are you two speaking?” Bao said,
walking up beside them. He wanted a quick word with the priest once
he came from behind the screen and before he gave his blessings to
the couple, so he’d decided to wait near the altar.

“We were just speaking of your taste for
rudely thrusting yourself into conversations that do not concern
you. ‘Twas quite edifying,” Callum said.

Bao grinned and ruffled Callum’s hair.
“That’s a good lad. Mayhap, after the priest gives his blessing,
we’ll spend the rest of the day on the lists?”

Callum swallowed a roar of indignation and
combed his hair back down with his fingers. He would not punch his
new brother-in-law in the nose. Not today at least. “You have an
extremely rich fantasy life—do you not?”

Branwenn giggled. “Bao, what are you doing up
here with us, for heaven’s sake? Go sit with your wife.”

Bao shrugged and cleared his throat. “I just
wanted to speak to the priest a moment.”

The priest came from behind the screen just
as the door to the chapel banged open.

All eyes turned toward it.

“Bishop Richard!” the Priest said.

“Halt the wedding! I’ve a letter that may
prove it not to be a legal alliance!” The Bishop said, huffing and
puffing his heavy, ornately covered weight toward them. There was a
scroll in his right hand that he waved in front of him as he
moved.

Chalmers rose from his seat on the bench and
held his hand out toward the holy man, indicating that he should
hand the letter over to him.

The priest stepped down from the altar and
moved toward his superior.

In the next instant, Gaiallard de Montfort
stepped through the door.

“
Gaiallard!
” Branwenn whispered on a
harsh release of breath. A buzzing began in her ears and black
spots swam before her eyes as she swayed slightly on her knees
before falling into a never-ending well of darkness.

Reys leapt to his feet and turned, his hand
settling protectively upon his young wife’s shoulder.

“Branwenn!” Callum hurtled to her prone side.
He stroked his thumb over the rise of her pale cheek. “Branwenn,”
he said again, more softly.

Bao rushed to Branwenn’s side and fell to his
knees as well. “We must get her out of here. I’ll take her up to
her chamber—you stay and find out what this outrage is all
about.”

Callum nodded and rose to his feet at the
same time Bao did, him holding his sister in his arms. When her
brother began to walk away, Callum realized that he’d never
released her hand and he forced himself to let go of it.

Bao barreled down the aisle toward the door
and Daniel got in step behind him.

Reys leaned down and whispered in Alyson’s
ear and in the next instant she was scurrying in Daniel’s wake.

Maryn nudged David, who sat beside her,
telling him to go with Alyson.

When David began walking beside her, Alyson
took the boy’s hand and continued her hurried exit.

The blond Norman, who stood in a wide stance
with his arms crossed over his chest, stepped out of Bao’s way as
he strode past him. Time to deal with that annoyance later, Bao
thought.