Surviving Scotland (17 page)
****
That night was misereable. Each noise had me racing from my bed to the window, as I searched for Ioan and the other men of the Black Watch to return. I awoke to a pounding on my door that found me lying at the base of the window in a heap. I tossed my braid over my shoulder and rushed open it. There, bloodied and yet very much alive, was Ioan.
“Elle,” he whispered into my hair as I launched myself into his arms. He held me tightly and kissed my head over and over.
“Ioan, ye’re alive, ye’re home!” I inhaled the smoke and sweat scent, as tears fell down my face.
“Dinna I promise ye?”
“Aye, ye did. Ye did.” I leaned back and ran my fingers over his face. Then I touched his hair and grasped the solid structure of his arms. “Are ye well? Are ye hurt?”
“Nay, a few scratches here an’ there… ‘tis nothin’ ta be concerned about.”
“Was it horrible? What am I sayin’? O’ course `twas!”
Ioan chuckled as he drew me once again into a tight embrace.
“All that matters is that `tis over… ye need no’ fear any longer. An’ ye are now free ta take a walk or two.”
“I’m no’ sure I want ta…”
“Lass, donna lose yer stubborn streak now! An’…” He leaned back to gaze playfully into my eyes. “Did I ever say ye were ta walk alone? Nay, ye will be with me... perhaps as me wife?” Ioan teased then rubbed his nose against mine.
“I’ve changed me mind… a walk sounds perfect.”
“That’s me lass.”
“Aye, yours.”
Morag came to my room later on and helped me dress once again. When I had taken off the dress the day before, I had carefully torn out the stiches Morag had re-sewn. She re-sewed them again today and declared me ready. My golden hair trailed down my mid-back, completely unbound. With trembling hands, Morag had secured the Luckenbooth brooch over my dress and arranged it perfectly.
We had no kirk nearby, but there was a small stone arch just beyond the gates of the castle. As I walked through the door and into the courtyard, Morag nodded in the direction of the gate. When I turned toward it, I saw that the warriors of the Black Watch were lining the path leading to the stone arch. Children filled in the sparse areas, as well as other men and women. As I made my way to the gate, I nodded my thanks. Morag released my hand and gave me a tender kiss on my cheek. As she stepped aside into the line of people, I began to walk toward the arch.
Ioan waited with a gaze of wonder as I made my way toward him. He wore the same blue and green tartan of the Black Watch, yet on him it was more magnificent, more masculine, and my belly tremored in gazing at him.
My uncle stood in front of the small stone structure and watched my approach with glistening eyes. But my gaze was fastened to Ioan. Each step forward gave me a clearer view of him, and each step sent my heart to racing harder, faster. His hair was pulled back, still untamed, but the wet, glistening sheen told me he’d tried to force it into obedience. Ioan shifted restlessly as my approach continued for another long minute. The clans folk grinned unabashedly at me, as their eyes bounced between Ioan and me.
When I arrived at the stone arch, my uncle nodded, and Ioan reached out with both hands. As I held him firmly, my uncle pulled out a length of linen. At each end was an embroidered cross. With deliberated movements, he draped the linen over our clasped hands and proceeded to wrap it around, securing it with a tug and small knot. I watched as my uncle bound our hands together, symbolic of how we were now joined together as one. Tears of wonder pricked my eyes and I glanced up to find Ioan gazing passionately at me. I was unable to glance away, so lost was I in the depths of emotion clearly reflected in his eyes.
“Do ye pledge yer troth in the covenant o’ marriage through this handfast ta Elle?” my uncle’s deep voice asked.
“Aye.” Ioan’s voice was loud and clear, victorious and proud.
“Do ye pledge yer troth in the covenant o’ marriage through this handfast ta Ioan?”
“Aye.” I nodded, amazed that Ioan was mine.
“Will ye be a husband true? Will ye honor yer wife in sickness, health, in riches or for poor?”
“Aye, I will.”
“An’ ye, Elle. Will ye be a wife true? Will ye honor yer husband Ioan in sickness, health, in riches, or if ye are ta be poor?”
“Aye. I will, Uncle.”
My uncle let out a long sigh, and I glanced at him. Did he remain upset because of my marriage to Ioan? His lips trembled, and he was making a concentrated effort to compose himself. In that, I knew it wasn’t a sigh of disappointment, it was a sigh of acknowledgement. I was no longer his to protect, to guard. I was now Ioan’s.
“Before God, ye are now bound tagether in marriage. ‘Til death parts ye, be bound, be blessed, an’ honor the holy covenant ye have made. Amen.”
A tug on the linen binding told me he was releasing the knot and unwinding it, but I didn’t glance down. My eyes were for my husband only. Ioan’s tender and victorious gaze captivated me. The depth of his love was shining from his eyes, and I knew mine did the same.
“Ye may now kiss yer wife, Ioan,” my uncle shouted, and I jumped slightly.
Ioan’s grin was triumphant as he reached around and pulled me close. My eyes closed as he began to lean in, and when his warm lips caressed mine, I found home. He kissed me once softly, then another time, more searchingly. When I thought he was finished, he surprised me by kissing me a third time, stealing my breath with the kiss’s fierce intensity. I gave back all he demanded and, when he released me, it was to the sound of cheering, whistling, and clapping. Cullon was the loudest, and Ioan shot him a self-satisfied grin.
We walked past the people lining the path, but my eyes were for my husband only. We entered the castle, and Ioan led me to my uncle’s study. My uncle soon appeared and held out the register. I read the other names, searching for my parents. I found them and grinned, thankful to be signing my name with theirs.
“Lass?” my uncle asked.
“Aye?” I glanced up.
“We haven’t discussed this yet… but ‘twould be wise ta do so now. ‘Tis the tradition fer a man ta take yer last name when he is marryin’ inta his wife’s clan. Because ye are my heir, when I pass inta the hereafter, Ioan will be the laird.”
Though I knew that was how it worked, the weight of the knowledge shook me anew. I glanced at Ioan, and he wore a humble expression in response to my uncle’s words.
“Since ye both are o’ the Campbell clan, there’s no need ta worry about the last name. Ye will both remain Campbells, but I wanted ye ta remember the tradition, Elle.”
“Aye.” Ioan murmured.
“If ye will, sign here, Ioan.” He waited for a moment as Ioan wrote his name.
“An ye, Elle, sign next to yer husband.” A smile tilted my lips as I signed my name, almost signing Ansley rather than Campbell. The slip-up reminded me of a conversation I’d need to have with Ioan, but not yet. Not today, probably not next week or month. I’d made my choice, with Grandma’s blessing no less. So with Ioan leading the way to the dining hall, I left behind the uncertainties of tomorrow and grasped onto my husband’s hand.
****
The meal was wonderful, and at its conclusion, Morag whispered into my ear. “I’ve a surprise fer ye.”
I glanced back at her twinkling eyes.
“Now?”
O
h please, let it be now so Ioan and I can leave!
The meal had taken much longer than I’d wanted, and Ioan was teasing me by running his fingers up the outside of my skirt all the way to my hip. Heat was pooling in my belly, and the smoldering glances he kept spearing me with weren’t helping. My only consolation were the distracted answers he’d given anyone who’d tried to take his attention away from me.
“Aye, now.” She touched Ioan’s shoulder and he grinned conspiratorially.
He rose, then bent down and scooped me into his arms. Cheers and whistles resonated in the hall as we followed Morag’s lead outside. I cast a longing glance toward the stairway that led to a bed, and Ioan caught my wistful expression.
“Donna fash yerself, lass. Ye’ll have me all ta yerself in but a moment.” His tone was smug and I smacked the back of his head. He grinned unrepentantly and began to whistle a merry tune.
We stopped at a small cottage not far from the castle. A warm fire crackled from within, and flowers hung over and around the door. Morag nodded to Ioan and then she leaned forward to kiss my cheek.
“Enjoy.” She started back toward the path leading to the castle, and I shot Ioan a curious glance.
“No’ yet… I’ll explain later. Fer now, let me carry me wife ta her bed.” Ioan grinned wolfishly as he strode through the doorway and into a cozy room that smelled of lavender.
Gently he set me down on the bed and then backed away. I tilted my head as he strode to the door and closed it firmly with a thud. Then he bolted it and double-checked its security.
“Expecting company?” I questioned with a wry grin.
“No, and I donna want any unexpected visitors, either,” he tossed over his shoulder.
“Does that happen?” I drew up my knees to my chest.
“Nay, no’ often, but I willna risk it!” Ioan chuckled and then turned, taking long strides to where I sat.
“Elle.” He whispered my name as he knelt in front of me. The sound of his voice made my eyes close in rapture. “Elle, me wife.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to my neck, and my body responded with a delicate shiver of delight.
“Ioan.” My tone was husky. I reached up to caress his shoulders and trailed my fingers down his back. “Ioan, me husband.” Ioan’s tongue flickered against my shoulder as he began to pull down the fabric of my blue wedding dress.
“Ye are beautiful. Ye stole me breath when I saw ye walk down the path toward me. How is it that ye’re mine?” He placed a final kiss to my shoulder, then leaned back to gaze into my eyes.
“How is it that ye are mine, Ioan? It took all me self-control ta no’ run inta yer arms when I first saw ye,” I confessed.
Ioan shook his head in wonder. Carefully he traced the curve of my lips with his finger and leaned in, whispering the softest kiss against them. I pressed against him, wrapping my arms around his neck and drawing him closer.
Immediately, Ioan responded by ravaging my lips with a searing kiss that sent tremors clear to my toes. No longer sitting up, Ioan’s weight pressed me into the soft bed. With trembling fingers, he traced my form from my knee to my hip, where he splayed his hands and kneaded my flesh with his palm. His hands ascended and flowed over my feminine form, and began to tug at the laces on the back of my dress.
Ardently, he rained kisses over my neck and jaw. Each one sent my heart to pounding faster toward an unknown anticipation. My hungry caresses boldly traced the lines of his back, around his rounded backside and back upward, only to continue once again. I pulled, tugging his shirt free from the plaid he wore, and ran my fingers over his flesh, reveling in its smooth and solid texture. Ioan released me from his smoldering kiss with an abrupt break, which left me gasping.
“Elle,” he panted my name. But I leaned forward and began to unwind his plaid from his shoulders, silencing his next words with my brazen movements. His eyes crinkled with amusement as he assisted me in ridding him of his clothing. He pulled me up against him as the last of his garments hit the floor, and his solid arms wrapped around me once more. “Ta think I was afraid I was perhaps movin’ too fast fer ye.” He chuckled against my neck.
“Aye, ye always were a slow one,” I teased before leaning down to kiss his shoulder, tasting his skin.
“This is one time, Elle, when I donna want ta be quick, but very deliberate, methodical, an’ precise.” His tongue swirled at the base of my throat as I realized my dress was loose and beginning to fall away. His kisses descended lower till I cried out in pleasure at his warm attentions. Only my loose stays remained and, soon, Ioan’s quick fingers loosened the laces and nothing prevented his flesh from searing my own with its passion.
****
I awoke later in my husband’s arms, drowning in the sensation of being thoroughly loved. His fingers traced down my naked body in methodical patterns that were meant to relax, but rather enticed me. I turned in the small bed and gazed into the green pool of his gaze.
“I love ye,” I whispered and kissed his lower lip.
“I love ye… me wee haggis.” Ioan chuckled and swallowed my protest with a hungry kiss that left me no further argument as he proceeded to steal away my breath once more.
****
Morag had given up her cottage for a few months so that we could have our privacy. She enjoyed the constant companionship of the servants, and accepted my uncle’s generous offer for her stay in the castle to be permanent. Ioan and I were thrilled to keep the small cottage to ourselves, yet realized that someday Carnasserie Castle would be ours.
A few months later, my uncle summoned me to his study.
“Elle.” He nodded as I walked through the doorway.
“Uncle?”
“Marriage agrees with ye.” My uncle nodded as he eyed me.
“Thank ye, I couldna agree more.” The past few months with Ioan were beyond anything I could have imagined. I was showered with love, and Ioan’s post at the castle was made permanent by his commander to help insure it didn’t fall prey to the Jacobites once again.
“We’ve received some grand news, Elle. I wanted ta tell ye first, an’ o’ course ye can tell that husband o’ yers when ye get home. I’ll inform the rest o’ the elders o’ the clan at the meetin’ tanight.” His words were spoken with a tender regard, and my heart swelled knowing he accepted and respected Ioan as his tanist.
“‘Twould seem that yer father’s investment in England did indeed meet success.” He handed me a parchment that disclosed the financial profits of a company owned by the Ansleys. My heart skipped a beat in seeing my old last name. Is this how we were connected?
“I’ll be returnin’ yer coin inheritance from yer mither as well, what I can find at least. Which reminds me... I wanted ta return somethin’ ta ye…” He reached into a drawer in his desk and handed me a small pouch.
“‘Twas yer mither’s. ‘Twas on the chain ye gave me, amongst the other coins. Yer father had it made fer her shortly after they were married. I thought ye’d want it back. There was one more he had made at a later date, but it musta fallen off somewhere… ‘tis a pity. ‘Twas beautiful.”
I reached out, taking the coin-shaped emblem from my uncle.
“Love is eternal, without beginning or end, just as is time.” I read the words out loud. “Thank ye,” I whispered.
“Aye.” My uncle nodded then cleared his throat.
“Perhaps one day ye’ll find the other one. I believe it speaks about
time submitting
ta
love
’
s call
or something o’ that matter. I dinna understand that one meself, but ‘twas one o’ yer father’s favorites. ‘Twas an old blessing he’d heard once. I’ll try to remember it fer ye.” He paused and furrowed his brow. “
It was said that time submitted to love
,
because love overcame all obstacles
.
Yet if time submitted to love, then love, having its true nature in selflessness, must submit to time if need be
… then came some superstition about placing one coin ta yer heart an’ askin’ love ta submit ta time… I donna remember, but it was said ta right the wrong done by placing love before time.”
I gasped at my uncle’s words.
Time submitting to love
’
s call?
Hadn’t my grandmother said the exact same words in her letter?
“That is quite a tale…”
One that is surely real
. I shook my head in bewilderment and thanked my uncle again as he dismissed me.
I held the coin in my hand, careful to not place it against my heart. I tucked it into my pocket and decided that when I arrived home, I’d place it in the wooden chest, far away from my heart, yet safe because it was a treasure from my parents.
Ioan’s eyes twinkled as I walked into the cottage.
“There’s me lovely wife.” Ioan pulled me into a tight hug and began to kiss my neck with clear intentions of beginning something more.
“Good-day ta you, husband.” I giggled and pushed away from him. I strode to the box I’d taken from my room and opened the lid, feeling Ioan’s smoldering gaze on my back. I took the coin from my pocket and placed it into the parchment sleeve with the other remainders from my mother’s inheritance. When the lid was secure, I paused for a moment. A swirling sensation overcame me, and I grasped the box to steady myself. Images of Ioan as a young lad flooded my mind, along with memories of my mother, father, uncle and even Morag. The overwhelming sensation stole my breath and Ioan rushed over at the sound of my gasp.
“Elle, are ye well?” His moss-colored eyes were concerned as he effortlessly lifted me onto our bed.
“Aye… I am.” I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his.
“Elle…?”
“Ye were a braw warrior even when ye were but a lad.”
“What?” Ioan’s gaze sharpened at my words.
“Ye… fought fer me… when that boy… the Thatchers’ son threw a ball o’ mud at me new dres—”
“Aye, ye remember?” Ioan grinned.
“Aye.”
“Ioan?” I raised my hand and traced his jaw with my fingers.
“Elle?”
“Ye were always in me heart… even as a young girl, ‘twas ye that I wanted.”
Ioan closed his eyes for a moment then leaned forward to kiss me tenderly across the mouth.
“Elle?”
“Aye,” I whispered against his lips.
“I know.” He grinned and tried to press me into the bed but I twisted out of his embrace, thankful the world had ceased spinning around me.
“Ioan?” I called as I made my way to the door.
“Elle…” Ioan warned with a teasing tone and wicked grin.
“There’s one more thing,” I added, biting my lip as I reached behind to open the door.
“An’ what’s that?” Ioan rose and began to stalk me.
“I’ve always loved ye chasin’ me.
“Elle.” Ioan shook his head as he moved closer at a deliberately slow pace. “Nay, ye love ta be caught.” And he ended my feigned escape and reminded me just how much I, indeed, loved to be caught.