A Promise in Midwinter (10 page)

Elizabeth cried
out with pleasure.  The feeling of Lachlan inside her, stretching and expanding
her to the brink with each powerful thrust was unlike anything that she had
ever imagined.  When Lachlan reached his finger between their joined bodies and
stroked the bead of her desire, she nearly screamed with euphoria.

That delicious
feeling was building within her again as Lachlan touched her most intimate
flesh.  With each stroke of his manhood, the feeling grew stronger.  Elizabeth called out her husband’s name again and again, running her hands over the planes
of his muscled back and shoulders.

And then the
feeling exploded.

Elizabeth moaned
loudly and her inner muscles began to quiver as Lachlan brought her to orgasm.

“Aye, Love,” Lachlan whispered as made delicious circles around her clitoris.  “Give yerself tae me,” he
gritted through clenched teeth.  Feeling Elizabeth find her release made him
want to spill his seed, but he refused his own pleasure, seeking to heighten Elizabeth’s.

“Lachlan!” she
cried as the overwhelming sensation consumed her.  Wave after wave of pleasure
rippled through her body.  It was as if her body had shattered into a million
tiny pieces.

Lachlan buried his
face in Elizabeth’s hair and pumped into her powerfully.  When he was sheathed
inside of her to the hilt, he growled and spilled his seed deep in her womb. 
His release was intense and all consuming, causing his muscles to tense with
pleasure.  Never in his life had he experienced such an overwhelming orgasm.

Regaining control
of himself, Lachlan placed light kisses on Elizabeth’s collarbone and nuzzled
her neck.  He inhaled the sweet scent of her hair.

“Are ye well,
love?” he asked tenderly as he rose up on his elbows to look down at his wife. 
Her auburn hair spilled onto the pillow, framing her lovely face.  Lachlan could see the look of wonderment in her green eyes, which caused him to smile
softly.

“Aye,” Elizabeth smiled as she toyed with the hair at the base of Lachlan’s neck.  “I had no
idea!” she giggled.

“Neither did I,” Lachlan laughed as he kissed his wife’s nose.

“I had heard
things…I had heard all sorts of things about what happens between a man and a
woman, but I never imagined
that
,” Elizabeth said with an awestruck
smile.

“Sae, I’ll
endeavor that ye liked it,” Lachlan chuckled.  He brushed his fingers lovingly
down Elizabeth’s cheek.

“Aye,” Elizabeth admitted.  A blush colored her cheeks.

“As did I,” Lachlan agreed.  He nipped at the nape of Elizabeth’s neck, causing her to giggle.  “I hope
that I didna hurt ye overmuch.  I’m sorry for hurting ye, love,” he whispered
sincerely.

“It hurt a bit at
first, but after….after it was wonderful,” Elizabeth sighed.

“Aye,” Lachlan agreed.  “It was wonderful.”

“You don’t suppose
that we could try again?” Elizabeth asked shyly.

Lachlan bit Elizabeth’s shoulder playfully.  A smile spread over his face as he lifted his head to
look into Elizabeth’s eyes.

“Are ye no tired,
love?” he asked with a teasing, devilish smile.

“Nay,” Elizabeth said in a sultry voice.  She bit her lower lip and slid her hand languidly down Lachlan’s back to cup his buttock.  “I’m not the least bit tired,” she said wantonly.

Lachlan growled.

“Neither am I,” he
said huskily as he captured his insatiable wife’s mouth and rolled her on top
of him so that she straddled him. 

Elizabeth leaned
down and captured her husband’s lips in a possessive kiss.  Her auburn hair
fell around them like a curtain.  The closeness, the bond that she felt with Lachlan was maddening.  She loved feeling him inside of her.  It was as if they were made
of one flesh, two halves of the very same soul.

..ooOOoo..

Lachlan awoke in
the first light of morning.  Elizabeth lay wrapped up in his arms, still
soundly asleep.  He moved so that he could admire her, being ever so careful
not to wake her.  His eyes scanned over her alabaster skin, her thick auburn
hair that was disheveled from his hands running through its masses last night,
her dark eyelashes resting on her cheeks as she slept.  Her sensual, kissable
mouth turned up into the slightest smile.

Elizabeth looked
happy.

Lord above! 
How he loved his wife!

Until this very
moment Lachlan MacFarland had not known it was possible to love another person
so much.

“I love you,
Beth,” he whispered into the quiet room.  He reached down and tenderly brushed
a stray lock of hair from her face.

Drills with the
soldiers would have to wait today.  Lachlan wanted to enjoy the first morning
waking up next to his wife, no matter what price he would pay in the lists
tomorrow.  Hell, most of the MacFarland warriors would be a bit worse for the
wear after the Hogmanay celebrations of last night.  Perhaps they would not
even notice his absence.

Lachlan carefully
disentangled his limbs from Elizabeth.  He padded barefoot over to the chair
that held Elizabeth’s few possessions.  He had requested that the maid bring
her things to their chamber.  On top of the pile sat her copy of
The Taming
of the Shrew.

Lachlan grabbed
the book and smiled.  Perhaps he would read awhile as he waited for Elizabeth to wake.  He settled himself back in the bed next to his wife and opened the
book.  Something was caught between the well-worn pages midway through the
volume.  Lachlan flipped to the culprit and his heart skipped a beat.

His thistle.  Elizabeth had kept it.

She had kept it
between the pages of her most valuable possession.

Lachlan made the
mistake of touching the wee flower. 

“Ye wee buggar!”
he cursed under his breath and then chuckled quietly.  He rose from the bed
once more, glancing warily over his shoulder to ensure that he had not woken Elizabeth.  The lass slept like a log!

Very carefully, he
opened the heavy chest of drawers by the fireplace. It took him a moment to
find what he was searching for, but when he felt to cool metal underneath his
fingers, he knew at once he had found the perfect solution to the thistle.

His mother’s
locket.

Lachlan removed
the bit of jewelry from the chest of drawers.  He had nearly forgotten the
small bauble, but the prick of the thistle had spiked his memory.  When his
mother had died, he had found the jewelry amongst her things.  The locket was
of the perfect size, fashioned of fine silver with a Celtic knot intricately
engraved on the front.  It hung on a delicate chain that Lachlan fancied would
look beautiful against Elizabeth’s skin. 

He pried the
locket open, revealing a small space between the two pieces of hinged metal. 
Taking the thistle carefully between his fingers, he placed it inside of the
locket.  It fit perfectly!  Lachlan closed the hinge of the locket and heard a
satisfying click.  He could hardly wait for his wife to wake up so that he
could give her the gift.

His eyes turned to
the book that lay open where he had left it on their bed.

The Taming of
the Shrew.

Comparing Elizabeth to Kate the Shrew was akin to madness.  Lachlan laughed beneath his breath.  He
would purchase Elizabeth some new books, and they would read them together.

Lachlan longed to
give his sweet and gentle wife the world.

..oo  Chapter Thirteen  oo..

“Lachlan!”  Angus
MacFarland boomed as he pounded on his son’s door.  “Get out of bed with ye! 
We’re under attack by the Campbells!” he thundered.

Lachlan sprung
from the bed and dressed hurriedly.

Elizabeth pulled
the covers over her breasts and sat up, watching in terror as her husband prepared
for battle.  Her heart raced as she watched him morph from a loving protector
into a fierce warrior.

“You will stay
here.  Bar the door behind me!” Lachlan ordered as he laced his boots.  He
stood and sheathed his sword in his belt. 

“I could speak
with him, perhaps he will listen!” Elizabeth exclaimed in desperation.  “If I
tell him that it is my fault, that I went willingly with you, perhaps he will…”

“You will stay
here!” Lachlan warned.  “I’ll not put you in danger.”

Elizabeth wiped
away the tears that gathered in her eyes.

She was terrified.

What if Lachlan was injured?  What if he was killed in battle?

Losing Lachlan would break Elizabeth irreparably.

“Do not leave me,”
she whispered as she watched Lachlan tie back his hair.

“Aye, love,” he
nodded.  “I willna leave ye.  I promise tae return in one piece.”

Lachlan strode
over to the bed and kissed Elizabeth soundly.  He kissed her with all of the
urgency and the terror that thudded with each beat of his heart.

You will not
take her from me, Campbell!

Lachlan pressed
the locket into Elizabeth’s palm.

“What is this?”
she asked as she sat up and brushed her auburn hair away from her face.

“It was my
mother’s.  And now it is yours,” Lachlan said with love in his eyes.  “Think of
me when you wear it,” he added.  Fear crept into Lachlan’s heart.  If he was
killed in battle, at least his wife would have a token to remember him by.

“I love you,
Husband,” Elizabeth said with stormy eyes.   Her heart was heavy as she watched
Lachlan prepare himself for battle.  They had stolen such precious little time
together.

“I love you too,
lass,” Lachlan said as he leaned down and gently kissed Elizabeth’s lips.  “Bar
the door behind me,” Lachlan ordered.  “And if they take control of the keep,
which I plan to make damn certain that they do not mind ye, but if they get to
you Elizabeth, tell them that I kidnapped ye against her will.  ‘Tis the only
way.”

Lachlan’s gaze
lingered on his wife for a moment and then he was gone.  She looked so damn
beautiful and yet so alone nestled in the mountain of quilts that covered their
bed.  Her eyes were forlorn as she watched him leave.

Elizabeth rose
from the bed and barred the door behind Lachlan, just as he had ordered.  She
leaned back against the door, tears welling in her eyes.  The locket was
clasped tightly in her palm.  She pried open the hinge and her heart caught in
her throat when she saw what Lachlan had placed inside of the pendant.

Their thistle.

The token that Lachlan had given her as a promise of his love.

Elizabeth wiped
her tears away.

She would not
allow John Campbell to take this away from her too.

Love was worth
fighting for.

Elizabeth looped
the thin chain of the necklace around her neck.  The locket rested just above
her heart, symbolizing the love that she shared with her husband.

You will not
take him from me, John Campbell!

Elizabeth dressed
quickly, unbolted the door and fled down the stairs.

..oo  Chapter Fourteen  oo..

Liam strode towards
the Campbells, eyes trained upon the archers who had sighted their arrows upon
him.  He focused on John Campbell, whose fist was in the air, waiting to signal
for the archers to unleash their fury of arrows.  If Campbell dropped his fist,
Liam was a dead man for sure.

Liam marched
forward without fear.

He unbuckled his
leather belt and let his claymore and dagger fall to the ground.

He did not want
war.

He was tired of
killing Campbells for a feud that had started before his birth.

He was tired of
watching MacFarlands die at the end of Campbell blades.

Liam MacFarland
had loved a Campbell once.  In fact he loved Olivia Campbell still.  And for
her memory and for the love that he held for their daughter, he planned to
settle this feud once and for all.

Or die trying.

“Campbell!” he
called out across the snow covered field.

John Campbell did
not respond.

“Speak to me as a
man!” Liam bellowed.

Lachlan stood with
the MacFarland warriors, ready to charge the bloody Campbells if they made any
aggression towards Liam.  His heart thundered in his chest.  Liam was acting
the part of a fool.  The Campbells would kill him without hesitation. 

Lachlan’s heart
sank.

Liam was too far a
field.  There was nothing that Lachlan could do to save him.

His heart wrenched
for Elizabeth.

Having only been
reunited with her father on Hogmanay, they had been given so little time
together.  ‘Twas a pity that Elizabeth would not get to know her father, for
Liam MacFarland was a brave and honorable man.

Movement at the
edge of the snow covered field caught Lachlan’s eye.

Her sky blue gown
and auburn hair stood out in stark contrast to the white snow as she ran
towards her father.

“Christ, Elizabeth!  No!” Lachlan gritted out through clenched teeth.

His heart
flip-flopped in his chest and threatened to stop beating completely.

Lachlan’s muscles
tensed.  He kicked his stallion into motion.

If only he could
get to her before the Campbells saw her.

Mayhap there was
time.

“No, son!” Angus
yelled as he reached over and grabbed the reins of Lachlan’s horse, wrenching
the beast’s head around and bringing him to an abrupt stop.  “Ye willna do
this, Lachlan!  Ye canna save her now.  They’ll kill her for sure if they realize
how much she means to ye!” the old man reasoned with his son, his stern eyes
challenging Lachlan to disobey his orders.

Lachlan watched in
horror as Elizabeth ran towards Liam, her skirts a flurry of blue satin against
the backdrop of the snow.  He watched numbly as she reached her father and took
his hand.   Father and daughter walked as one to meet the Campbell war party.

Fear gripped Lachlan’s heart, making breathing nearly impossible.

Liam and Elizabeth
walked up to John Campbell.  They stood just in front of his horse.  Liam moved
to speak, but Elizabeth dropped his hand and stepped forward.

“I urge you to
stop this madness,” she said powerfully as her intense green eyes locked with
John Campbell’s.  “Do you even remember what started the feud between the
Campbells and the MacFarlands?” she asked, her eyes daring Campbell to look
away.

“Nay lass.  ‘Tis
of no consequence,” Campbell answered dismissively.  “My feud is not with you,
although you’ve disappointed me greatly,” he added the insult for good
measure.  “Step aside or ye may get killed in the crossfire.”

“The MacFarlands
are not so different from
us
,” Elizabeth began.  Her eyes implored John
Campbell to listen.  She stood strong in front of his horse, blocking his
path.  “They love their families, teach their children right from wrong.  I’ve
been in their homes, I’ve eaten the food that they have harvested from the
land, just like we do!  I’ve laughed with them and shared stories around their
hearth fires.”

“They are our
enemies,” John Campbell seethed.  He glared at Liam, who stood silently beside
his daughter.

“No, they are
not!” Elizabeth argued.  “Perhaps they
were
our enemies, but you have
the power to end this!” she said with emotion, imploring John Campbell to
understand.  “Let our clans join together in peace.  A peaceful relationship
between the Campbells and the MacFarlands will have a far greater yield than
endless and costly bloodshed!  Let us join together and enter a time of
prosperity.  The English are coming, invading the Highlands and breaking up the
mountain clans.  If we were to join together, perhaps we can defend ourselves!”

John Campbell was
silent.  Elizabeth’s words reverberated within him.

Secretly, he too
was tired of war.  He was weary of killing and senseless death.

And Elizabeth was right.

He could not even
remember what had instigated the feud between the Campbells and the
MacFarlands.

“The lass is right,”
Liam said quietly.

John Campbell had
been Liam’s life long enemy.

“I am tired of
endless killing.  I’m tired of seeing our sons dead on the battle field.  And
what have they given their lives for, John?  A silly feud that began before
either of us were born?” Liam asked.

A strange feeling
washed over John Campbell.

Perhaps he could
be a part of something bigger, a part of something greater than himself.  What
if the Campbells and the MacFarlands could make peace and foster an alliance
against the English?  What if he could play a part in building a world that was
better than the one that he had been born into?

“I am happy here,
step-father,” Elizabeth said softly.  “I am happy here because they are good
people, people not so different from us.”

Campbell slid down
from his horse.  He now stood directly in front of Liam and Elizabeth.  His
heart was changing.

He unsheathed his
sword.

Elizabeth’s heart
thundered in her chest.

What was Campbell planning to do?

Liam was unarmed
and would be no match for the lethal claymore in Campbell’s hand.

John Campbell
raised his sword.

Every muscle in Lachlan’s body was tense, poised and ready to fly across the battle field towards Elizabeth.  He watched helplessly as his wife stood proudly in front of her step-father. 
He swore right then that if Campbell harmed her, he would kill each and every
last Campbell on the battlefield.

And then he would
fall upon his own sword.

His life was not
worth living if he could not be with his wife.

Campbell drove the
blade of his sword into the frozen ground, causing Elizabeth to emit a startled
gasp.

“Let this be the
end, MacFarland,” he proclaimed.  “Let us leave our grandchildren with a world
greater than what we were given.  May this day mark the beginning of peace
between our clans.”

Liam nodded.  He
extended his hand towards John Campbell.

Campbell shook his
hand, sealing the fledgling promise.

Hope bloomed
within Elizabeth, warm and heady as it overtook her body.

Without thinking,
she stepped forward and kissed John Campbell on the cheek.

“Thank you,” she
whispered as she smiled up at him.  “I know that you loved me the best that you
could.  You loved me the only way that you knew how.”

Campbell nodded.  Elizabeth was right again.  He had loved her. 

Having no children
of his own, Elizabeth had been his only child.

And he had done
her wrong.

Perhaps it was Elizabeth’s gracious act of forgiveness or perhaps it was the prospect of a new and
hopeful year beneath the blanket of winter’s snow, but John Campbell suddenly
found that he wanted peace.  He wanted peace between the Campbells and the
MacFarlands both for himself and for future generations.

It had only taken
setting out on a warpath for him to realize it.

That and a completely
defiant and yet amazing young lady.

..ooOOoo..

“Doona ever do
that to me again!” Lachlan warned as he collected Elizabeth into the safety of
his arms.  “I will not stand by as you place yourself in such danger!”

“I wasn’t in
danger.  Not truly,” Elizabeth said as she smiled against her husband’s chest. 
“Love is worth fighting for,” she said as she looked up at Lachlan.

“Aye,” he
whispered, “It is.”

His lips claimed
hers in a passionate, possessive kiss.

“And I want our
children to have a world more peaceful than the one that we have known,” she
added.

“Children?” Lachlan said as he arched an eyebrow.

“Aye?” Elizabeth laughed.  “I suppose that we shall have at least eight!”

Lachlan rolled his
eyes heavenward.

“Ye do know how
children are made, love?” he asked teasingly as he squeezed Elizabeth’s bottom.

“No, perhaps you
could instruct me?” Elizabeth chided playfully as she winked invitingly at her
husband.

“Gladly,
sweetheart,” he laughed.  “If we are to have at least eight, I suppose that we
should get started.”

Lachlan whisked Elizabeth off her feet, eliciting a giggle from her that warmed his heart.  Elizabeth
Campbell was the greatest and most unexpected gift of his life.  She had given
him so much.  Her love was a promise that resided within his soul, a promise of
a life filled with happiness, laughter, and above all love.

In Elizabeth, Lachlan had found the lass that sang to his soul.

..oOo..

The End

..oOo..

Thank you so much for choosing to read my debut novel! 
Many hours of love, sweat and tears have been poured into this fledgling work
and I do hope that you enjoyed it.  If you enjoyed reading
A Promise In
Midwinter
, please consider writing a review of my work on Amazon.com

My second novel (a full length historical romance)
entitled
Tournament of Hearts
has just been released.  It can be found
at the link provided below.  I’ve attached the first two chapters for your
reading pleasure.

http://www.amazon.com/Tournament-Hearts-Alyssa-Stark-ebook/dp/B00GPY5W3A/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1384829728&sr=8-3&keywords=alyssa+stark

Tournament
of Hearts

By: Alyssa Stark

..oo  Chapter One  oo..

Loch Fyne, Scotland, 1721

 “I would rather
die!” Isobel said as she glowered at her father and squared her shoulders for
battle.

“You
need
a
husband, Isobel.  And I can think of no other way,” Laird McLaughlin snapped at
his only daughter as he rubbed his throbbing temple.  His knuckles were gnarled
by time.  They moved in small circles against his skull.  He would have given
anything to quell the incessant aching.

“Have you spoken
with Hodges?  Is there still no manner by which I could manage our holdings
with a legal guardian?” Isobel asked in desperation.

“It cannot be,
sweetheart,” Laird McLaughlin sighed.  “The decree is quite specific on the
path of succession.  In the event that there is no heir apparent, I am free to
choose my heir.  But, it is clearly written that the chosen heir must be male.”

Isobel sighed
heavily and knitted her tawny eyebrows together in frustration.  This was not
the first time in her life that she had cursed being born a female.

“Have we no
distant cousin, no far-off relation that I could rule jointly with?  A marriage
of convenience perhaps?”

McLaughlin
chuckled.  Isobel had never been one to give up easily.  He watched her now,
with her wild blonde hair cascading down over her arms which were crossed over
her chest in a silent act of defiance.  The lass was as stubborn as a rock, but
she had grown up well.  Isobel would serve her clan as she was bid.  She would
do her duty however distasteful.

 McLaughlin was
proud of his daughter.

“I have looked, my
dear.  I have searched tirelessly for a proper match for ye and to no avail. 
Ye are my only daughter and in mine eyes, there is no man worthy of ye!”
McLaughlin exclaimed as he closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead.  
“Perhaps that is the reason why I have forsaken the task of finding a suitable
husband for ye,” he admitted as his eyes locked with his daughter’s.

Isobel smiled
half-heartedly.  She knew that her father loved her more than life itself.

McLaughlin leaned
forward and punched at the pillow between his back and the massive wooden
headboard.  The disease was progressing quickly and as a result McLaughlin
spent most of his time abed now.  He was consumed with chronic pain and could
never seem to find comfort.  He settled himself back against the bolster and
prepared to voice his fears aloud to Isobel.

He had been
dreading this very moment, but time was short.

McLaughlin knew
that he would soon be dead.

 “We must face the
fact that I am the last of our line and I too shall soon be gone.  It pains me
that I was not given a son, a son that would carry on the McLaughlin name,” he
said as his eyes fell down to the feather duvet that covered his legs.    “Now
we are forced to look outside the immediate clan to find a suitable match for
you,” he said, his shame preventing his eyes from looking up to meet his daughter’s. 
“A man to carry on my legacy not through name, but through blood.  Through your
blood, our McLaughlin blood mingling in the veins of the children that he will
give you.”

Isobel fought the
urge to run.  The thought of the marriage bed terrified her, but she knew that
her duty to the clan must be upheld.  She was the last of the true McLaughlin
line and in so being, she held the responsibility of bearing the future Laird
of Clan McLaughlin, a fact that iced the blood in her veins.