Christmastide with my Captain_Scottish Historical Romance_A Laird to Love Page 5
He worked her rhythmically as she responded to his touch, digging her fingers deeper into his scalp. And then she shattered. “Jack,” she cried again.
It undid him. Any control he had left gone at the sound of her pleasure. He undid the laces on his breeches and pulled them down around his ankles, he wasn’t even sure he could take them all the way off.
Her eyes grew huge as she assessed him, making him pause. “That’s large.”
Chuckling, he pulled his pants the rest of the way off. “Aye,” he said in his best brogue. “It is, lass.”
She giggled too. Then climbing to her knees on the bed, she pulled the shift the rest of the way off.
Her body was slender with lovely curves in her hip but her breasts where far bigger than he’d realized in her dresses. “They’re large,” he choked out.
“Aye,” she answered. “They are, lad.” Then a blush climbed her cheeks. “Do you find them pleasing?”
He blinked, unable to believe she had just asked that. “Does the sun rise each day?” Giving her a lopsided grin, he began stalking toward her, his hands coming to either side of her knees on the couch. “I like them very much. In fact, I think an entire wardrobe of new dresses are in order, ones that do not bind you so much but better display your… assets.”
She let out a nervous giggle as he kissed her then and slowly began pushing her body back onto the bed. “I was embarrassed by them when I was younger and then it became a habit to hide them.”
“I’m glad you did. If you’d had them on display, you’d already be married.” His skin pressed to hers as her back landed on the bed. He let out a hissing breath at the feel of her. So soft and warm underneath him, he wanted to stay this close to her forever.
She looked at him with wide eyes, although all nervousness was gone. Instead her hands held his shoulders. “Are you saying that if I’d displayed my chest, I would have had suitors?”
He gave a little shrug as he pressed the tip of his cock against her opening. “Men are simple creatures.” He pushed into her slowly. “Which is why they allowed your shyness to overshadow your beauty to begin with.”
The conversation was helping him to remain calm, because he was on the verge of losing his sensibilities. But then she wiggled underneath him, thrusting her hips up to take more of him in. “Let’s not discuss anyone else. I want to talk about us…this. I didn’t know it would feel so good!” she exclaimed.
“Emilia,” he groaned, sinking deeper, until he was all the way inside her. “Talk to me like that again and I won’t be able to control myself, love. I want you so much and—”
“I told you, don’t control yourself,” she whispered and then he was lost. Their bodies moved together, their breath mingling until all rhythm was lost, their bodies reaching a crescendo of passion together.
Emilia woke to complete darkness, wondering why she had done so. She had never been warmer or more comfortable in her entire life.
“Emilia,” Jack’s voice murmured softly next to her. “My love.”
“What is it?” she replied sleepily.
“You have to return to your own room.” He held her tighter rather than pushing her away. “Your father can’t notice your absence, he’ll have my hide.”
“Mmmm,” she snuggled more deeply against him. “My bed will be cold.”
Jack got up from the bed, pulling his breeches on. Then he grabbed her shift and, sitting her up, pulled it over her head. “I’ll help you warm your bed.” He grinned. “But you have to go.”
With a groan, she pulled back the covers as Jack gathered up the rest of her belongings. Handing them to her, he swept her into his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.
Her room, which she had yet to actually step foot in, was only a few doors down the hall. Jack tucked her into the cold bed and then stocked up the fire, coming to lay on the small mattress with her. “Tomorrow I will ask your father about our Christmastide wedding.” He fitted her against his body. “I will join you the day before, but I’ll have to stay here for the next week to settle my uncle’s affairs.”
She nodded, wishing she could stay with him. But her father would never allow it, even with their impending marriage. “If there is anything I can do—”
“You’ve done enough. You’ve done everything, actually.” He kissed her again. “I love you, Emilia.”
“I love you, too.” She smiled in the dark. “Stay with me until it’s light. If we have to be apart, I want to be near you now.”
“Of course,” he whispered, brushing kisses along her hairline. “But I have to warn you. I might not be able to keep my hands to myself.”
She grinned, a tiny giggle escaping her lips. “So don’t.”
Chapter 7
Emilia stood in the tower where she’d taken Jack the first night they’d met. It was too cold to stand out on the beach, even with her hands safely tucked into the muff he’d given her.
Tomorrow was Christmastide and Jack hadn’t arrived. She was doing her best to keep any doubts out. He’d told her he loved her, asked her father permission to marry her. He’d even sent a dress for their wedding that displayed her assets, as he’d called them.
But still, this tiny niggle of fear kept creeping into her thoughts. She wasn’t good enough. Love was never going to be hers to keep.
A creak behind her had her turning her head. Her sister, Ainsley, slipped through the door, followed by her other sister, Fiona. They stood on either side of her as the door creaked again, opening wider as Clarissa and Agnes entered the tiny tower.
“He’s coming, Emilia,” Agnes softly answered the question that had been bouncing around in her thoughts.
Clarissa placed a hand on Emilia’s shoulder. She turned to her beautiful cousin with her dark hair swept back from her face. A beauty shone from within as her stomach swelled with her first child. “How could he not love you? No one gives more love than you do.”
She took a breath as Agnes held her hand. “I’m not used to men bestowing attention on me.”
Fiona huffed a breath. “Stop that blather now, do you have any idea how many men follow you with their eyes?” Fiona’s bright green eyes flashed with annoyance. “Just because you pay them no mind doesn’t mean they aren’t watching you.”
Emilia let out a tiny giggle. “Only you, Fiona, can make me feel better with insults and eye rolls.”
Fiona’s features softened. “That might be the nicest thing ye ever said tae me.”
“Oh look,” Ainsely cried out pointing toward the water. “It’s a ship!”
Emilia squinted her eyes to see what Ainsley was referring to. Sure enough, a ship loomed larger and larger as it came into view. She yelped in excitement and then brushed past her family to make her way down the tower and out to the beach.
She made it down to the sand just as the rowboats were pulling up to the dock. Her breath heaving out of her chest, she caught sight of Jack climbing up out of the boat. Despite having no breath left, she raced toward him. He caught sight of her and ran to meet her, catching her up in his arms.
He pressed his lips to hers over and over as he spun her around.
“And here I thought Emilia might be the only one of us tae make it to her wedding still pure.” Fiona giggled behind her.
She turned to see Fiona, Ainsley, Clarissa, and Agnes standing behind her on the beach. A quick glance at Jack showed he looked rather distraught over the comment. To him she replied, “You’ll get used to Fiona.” Then turning back to her family, she clucked her tongue. “Look away then, if ye don’t want to see.”
They giggled and turned away as she pressed her lips to Jack’s again. “I missed you,” she sighed out.
“And I, you. So much.” He pressed her closer, peppering kisses all about her face. “Is everything ready for tomorrow?”
She nodded. “Come see.”
Her family had set about decorating the great hall for the holiday and the nuptials. Never had she seen it more beautiful.
r /> They entered the castle, and her mother swept toward them, “Captain Andrews,” she held out her arms as her eyes twinkled.
“Lady Ravenscraig,” he returned the greeting even as her mother embraced him and kissed his cheek.
“Let’s dispense with the formalities. Welcome home.” She beamed.
Her father stepped up next to her mother. “Good tae see ye again. What do ye think?” His hand swept toward the decorations.
“It’s stunning,” Jack exclaimed.
It really was. A large tree stood in one corner while garlands and mistletoe decorated the room with bright splashes of red and green. He reached for her hand and, drawing her closer, said, “I’m the luckiest man alive.”
A male chuckle sounded behind them. “A few of us might have to disagree with you on that, having our own McDougal brides.”
Emilia rolled her eyes. “I hope ye wanted a large family. May I introduce ye to yer future brother-in-laws?”
The evening passed in a blur of family and food, everyone growing excited for the festivities in the morning. Emilia, was more excited to be alone with Jack than even the wedding itself. Shortly after dinner, she stretched and pushed out a yawn. “I think I’ll be needin’ me rest for the morning.”
Clarissa and Fiona stood. Clarissa gave her a small wink, but Fiona bestowed her with a devilish grin. “We’re comin’ with ye. Help ye prepare for the nuptials tomorrow.”
Several male groans filled the room, Jack looking as crestfallen as her brother-in-laws.
Her mother covered her mouth with a kerchief while her father looked confused. “We’re already prepared.”
“Not that type of preparation,” Agnes stated as more male protests filled the room.
Emilia gave Fiona a look she hoped would scare the mud off a hog. She didn’t need preparation. She needed to be with Jack.
“I’ll go with you,” her mother stood. “This sort of thing is a mother’s job.”
Emilia’s eyes grew wide as she glared at Fiona. Fiona well knew she didna need a lesson about the marriage bed and her older sister was attempting to torture her. It was Fiona’s special talent.
Three hours later, she lay in a quiet room. She’d sent Clarissa and Fiona back to their husbands, her mother lay next to her.
She was too excited to sleep, and her mother’s soft snores weren’t helping. She didn’t dare sneak out but she desperately wished she could see Jack.
A soft knock sounded at the door. Creeping over, she whispered, “Who is it?” Though she already knew.
“It’s me. I know you can’t see me but I just want to pass you a gift,” Jack whispered from the other side of the door.
She cracked it open then. “You’ve given me enough. I don’t need anything else.”
“This is for you to wear tomorrow.” He handed her a beautiful green tartan. “A symbol of our future.”
“Oh, Jack,” she murmured as she slipped out into the hall and wrapped her arms about his neck.
He gave her a long slow kiss. “After tomorrow, we need never be apart again.”
“Tomorrow,” she breathed as he unwrapped her arms from his neck and gently backed away.
“Good night, my love,” he said as he disappeared down the hall.
She returned to the bed and wrapped the tartan about herself. It smelled like him and as she breathed it in, she drifted off to sleep.
The next morning dawned bright and sunny, unusual for a Scottish winter day.
Emilia dressed in a cream colored gown that Jack had sent her, and wrapped his tartan around her shoulders. Never had she felt more beautiful.
As she walked down the main stairwell everyone stood at the entrance to the main hall, watching her descent. But she only had eyes for Jack. He stared back at her with an intensity that took her breath away.
As she came to the bottom of the stairs, he turned briefly to her father. “I’m sorry about this, Haggis.”
“What’s that then?” her father asked but Emilia barely registered his words. Jack was striding toward her. Before she knew what was happening, he’d swept her into arms and planted a fierce kiss on her lips.
The men cheered and hooted as he gently set her down. “I love you,” he breathed out, kissing her again.
“And I love you.” Their foreheads remained pressed together as they held one another.
Her father finally cleared his throat. “It’s time for the weddin’.”
Taking her hand, they entered the great hall. Her Christmastide wish in the flesh. She looked to the faces of her happy sisters and the men who had stolen their hearts. What a fantastically beautiful year it had been for the McDougal family.
Want to learn about each of the McDougal romances? See Clarissa, Fiona, Agnes, and Ainsley each meet their true love.
The first is available for pre-order! My Enemy, My Earl: A Laird to Love Book 1
Coming in 2018
Heart of a Highlander: A Laird to Love Book 2
A Rogue’s Surrender: A Laird to Love Book 3
My Lord’s Seduction: A Laird to Love Book 4
Now for a sneak peek of My Enemy, My Earl: A Laird to Love
My Enemy, My Earl
Lord Ewan McDougal, Earl of Dumfries, took a deep breath of Scottish air as he trotted down the rutted road toward Kirkcaldy. It was so good to be back in his home country. Even with the misting rain, the fresh smell of spring flowers lifted his spirits. With any luck, he’d never step foot on soil that wasn’t Scottish again.
He doubted he’d ever have need to traipse over Europe or Asia after the war, so there was no real danger there, but England was another matter entirely. A Scot could get sucked onto English land despite his best intentions not to. And he had no intention of ever touching that country again.
Or any of its people, for that matter.
“Do ye think we’ll be able to stop soon? I’m peckish.” Kieran McKenna grumbled next to him.
Ewan glared at his longtime companion and friend. They’d grown up together on neighboring parcels of land, had been drafted together, and had returned changed together. Kieran was like his tartan, he was rarely seen without the other man. “We just ate.”
“Aye, but it’s raining.” Kieran looked as though his point ought to have been obvious.
“So what?” Ewan gave him a look of bewilderment. “It’s Scotland. It’s always raining.”
“After years of being cold and hungry, I’ve no tolerance for either.” Kieran shrugged.
It was difficult to argue with that. There were a lot of things he had no tolerance for after years of war. Loud noises near stole his sanity. He couldn’t stand the English, for example, who’d drafted him in the first place. And his ruined land, bare after five years of neglect. That drove him mad but at least his land he could repair. That was why he needed to get to Kirkaldy. From there it was a short ride to third cousin, Hamish McDougal’s castle. “You know I’ve got a bride to meet.”
“Will she marry someone else if it takes an extra day?” Kieran wagged his eyebrows. “Besides, you know you’re devilish handsome. She’ll likely fall right into yer arms.”
Kieran wasn’t wrong. Women had long given him attention. Though Kieran was the more classically handsome man with his straight nose and piercing eyes, Ewan had always had a masculine look to which women responded. “It’s not that. You ken as well as anyone my land is in shambles. I need to marry to put it back together. Winter is comin’.”
“It’s only spring.” Kieran winked. “But I know ye be wantin’ a lovely little Scottish lass with a nice full…dowry.”
Ewan tried not growl at his friend’s crass words. Although they were at least partly true. Fiona, his perspective bride, did come with a dowry and that coin would be verra helpful in repairing his lands. Fiona was a strong Scot woman, which would also come in handy.
They’d last seen each other ten years before, when she was but a child. She’d had a penchant for practical jokes, which had near driven him mad, but su
rely she’d grown out of that by now.
Up ahead he spotted a carriage stopped and tilting precariously to one side. The driver was down on his knees in the muck attempting to repair the wheel. Poor sod.
Next to him stood a hooded figure with flowing skirts that had been sucked into the muck. He grimaced. The side of the road was no place for any lass to be. Especially not on a day like this.
“I’m all for helpin’ women in need but it’s rainin’ harder still. We should keep movin’.” Kieran frowned more deeply. “Ye’re not going to stop are ye?”
The question did not dignify an answer. Dismounting, he led his horse toward the stranded travelers. As a soldier, he’d learned it was less intimidating when he approached on foot. Especially considering his height and the breadth of his shoulders. He frightened on horseback.
The driver looked up with a wary eye but Ewan offered him a smile. “Is it help ye be needin’?”
“Aye, that’d be right nice.” The driver nodded.
“You can go back in the carriage if ye like, lass.” Ewan gave her what he hoped was an sympathetic smile but he heard her huff her breath almost like it annoyed her that he’d said it.
“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay,” she answered from under the hood, annoyance lacing her lilting voice.
Never mind that he admired a woman with enough pluck to stand out in the rain to fix a wheel. Something Kieran wasn’t willing to do, apparently. Or that she stayed even when she didn’t have to.
Her accent was English.
“Dinna trouble yerself, lass.” The driver reached out to pat her like a child.
Ewan nodded his agreement. “I know an English woman like yerself doesn’t do this kind of thing normally.”
“How would you know what I can or can’t do?”
He could just see her mouth below the edge of the hood. Perfect, full pink lips turned down into a frown.
Why had he thought words like perfect and full when he should be thinking ones like conniving and wretched? Wasn’t that what all the English were? Everyone he’d met when abroad at war certainly had been. Pushing the Scots to the front of the line to die in droves.