Seducing the Highlander (31 page)

When she was done, he asked tenuously, “Don’t you want to marry me?”

“Of course!” came her quick reply. It also held an unmistakable note of enthusiasm, calming any anxieties that might have been growing in him. “Just
not
tomorrow.”

Craig stretched his arm out to hand her Merry’s reins and watched with secret joy as she hesitated before taking them. Damn Hamish for actually succeeding in teaching her how to ride, but she still had much to learn. And this time,
he
would be the one to tutor her.

Taking her hand in his, they stroked Merry’s mane and neck. “Just rub her like you are doing and talk to her. And we don’t have to ride. We can just walk for a while until you are ready to try again.”

Meriel dropped the reins and put her arms around his neck, pulling him close so that she could bury her face in his throat. Stunned, Craig just held her, not understanding the cause of her reaction or what to do. When she finally stepped back, he saw evidence of tears, but the warmth of her smile put him back at ease. “I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

Craig crinkled his brow in confusion, and it just endeared him even more to Meriel. She knew he had no idea of the gift he had just given her. In the past, he would have made her “face her fear” of horses. The man was stubborn, but once he recognized there was a better way, he did not let his pride interfere.

Once beyond the loch and the forest that hugged the shoreline, Meriel no longer felt quite as constrained. The open fields and wide expanse gave her the courage to try to ride again. Only when she threw her leg over and felt Merry jerk, did she remember the animal had actually thrown her quite painfully to the ground. But as soon as Meriel settled into the saddle, the gentle animal tossed her mane in welcome. Meriel urged the horse forward, careful to give the signal to walk and nothing more.

Craig watched patiently as Meriel mounted the mare, helping only when and how she instructed. If anything were to go wrong, he was not going to be blamed. But nothing did. Meriel was riding. He was tempted to pull her into a deep kiss, but restrained himself and instead brought their conversation back to a topic even two days ago he never would have dreamed of discussing. “Why the delay? Wasn’t your eagerness to marry your whole purpose in torturing me these past few weeks?”

Meriel shot him a penetrating look. What she really wanted to do was punch him in the arm, but her lack of riding skill prevented her.
Something
, she promised herself,
I must soon rectify
. She loved Craig, but she also had no doubt that several times during their marriage she would be inclined to let him know just how irritating he could be. And evil glares—like the one she was sending him now—just did not quite achieve that objective. It mattered little that her strength would barely make an impact against his bulk. Her intention was not to damage or cause pain, but to get his attention. From what she had learned so far by observing her sister and her husband, nothing short of a log colliding with a man’s head could make him see how idiotic he was being.

“As I have told you numerous times, my efforts—if there were any—had
nothing
to do with marriage. I just wanted you to admit your feelings for me and not lie to yourself or force me to go along with your absurd idea about love.”

Craig gave her an exaggerated wink. “Now you are the one who is not telling the truth. You wanted me to be jealous. Admit it.”

Meriel sat up straighter and looked straight ahead. “You may be somewhat correct, but only because I—”

“You wanted marriage,” he finished for her with a smug smile.

“Not to you!” she blurted out.

The shock of her exclamation caught Craig by surprise. He reached out to stop her horse, suddenly very serious. “What do you mean,
not to me
?” he challenged.

Their eyes met. Craig’s mouth was tight and grim as he stared. Meriel met his glare with one of her own. “What woman would ever want to marry a man who
refused to admit
that he even desired her?”

Craig drew his lips in thoughtfully and let go of Merry’s reins, but he did not break his gaze. “But you knew I desired you.
Mo creach
, you knew I loved you even before I did!”

“Aye, but it didn’t count until
you
admitted it.” Meriel gave her mount a nudge with her legs and the animal began to walk away.

Craig rolled his eyes. For a brief while, he had thought that with love came a better understanding of women.
If anything
, he murmured to himself,
you become even more impossible to understand.
Suddenly he felt more sympathy toward his eldest brother. No wonder Conor fought all the time with Laurel. “So you do want to marry me.”

“I already said that I did.”

“Just not tomorrow.”

“Aye. Sometime in the next few weeks. It takes time to organize a big wedding, and I expect many will want to see you in front of the altar.”

Craig raked a hand through his hair. Staying away from her bed tonight was going to be hard enough, but
a few weeks
? Now that he had experienced heaven, there was no possible way he was going to last that long. And as far as a big wedding? He wanted none of it. “Give me one good reason—one that will convince
me
—why we cannot marry tomorrow.”

Meriel issued him a sideways grin. “Otherwise you will hoist me over your shoulder and marry me anyway?”

Craig snorted. “Aye. I just might.”

“And just who will you plop me down in front of to preside over the ceremony?” Her eyes glowed with pure enjoyment as comprehension dawned on his face. Father Lanaghly had left with Conan before his arrival and neither had returned, nor was it known
when
they would return. Only sometime before winter.

He was just digesting this unavoidable fact when she continued. “I’ll give you three
more
reasons. My father, my sister, and her husband, known to you as your brother Crevan. All three of them would be highly incensed if they were not involved, let alone present at the wedding. And as we would see them every day at Caireoch Castle, they could make life pretty miserable for you.”

On this she also had a point, but it reminded him that he had other options as well. “I will agree to delay our union
for a week
,” he growled. “As soon as we get back, I will send a herald to Lindores Abbey. I have no doubt that Father Lanaghly will return immediately.”

Meriel could not help but laugh out loud at his frustration at not being able to dictate things to his liking. Truth was, she was not sure she could wait much longer either. She had only said
several weeks
for amusement, knowing how it would rile him. “Let’s get married at Caireoch. I want to be home, in front of my family and yours, when I say my vows.”

“As long as it is at sunset.”

Meriel nodded. It was one McTiernay tradition she had no intention of breaking.

“And small,” he added. He was already irritated at the heckles he knew he was going to get. Even if they were deserved.

“I too want it to be small, as long as one certain person is there to witness it.”

“Father Lanaghly? He’ll be there. I can guarantee you that when my message reaches him, he will waste no time in returning,” Craig said, misunderstanding.

With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Meriel shook her head. “Not Father Lanaghly. Conan. I want your brother to be there.”

Craig’s brows pulled together in a bewildered frown. “Why him, of all people?”

“I have my reasons,” said Meriel simply.
Revenge may not be a mature feeling, but every once in awhile it can be satisfying
, she thought to herself.

Craig stopped his horse and indicated for her to stop as well. He rubbed the back of his neck, watching two riders approach them. He grinned triumphantly, pointing at the two figures. “Guess who just arrived?”

Meriel swiveled in the saddle and shaded her eyes to see who was coming. A second later she understood just why Craig was grinning like a little boy who got the biggest present. Conor McTiernay and Father Lanaghly had returned.

They stopped their horses and both men grinned at the couple.
“Ciamar a tha sibh?”

“I am fine,” answered Craig to the typical question of introduction, perturbed by their overly happy dispositions. Their horses were still burdened with saddlebags, indicating they had not yet made it to the castle, but their expressions were of men who knew a secret.

“And how are you, Lady Meriel?” Father Lanaghly asked.

“I am also well,” Meriel replied. She too was suspicious. The father had always been a nice and gracious man, but she could never recall him being so
cheerful
before.

Craig pointed at the saddlebags with his chin. “I assume you have not been to see your wife yet.”

Conor stroked the dense stubble on his chin. “Ah, no. She does not even know I am here yet. The father and I were just about to part so that I could come down here to the loch and wash off when we saw, um, you two.”

Craig narrowed his gaze once again. It was as if his brother
knew
what he and Meriel had just been discussing. And yet the two of them were just riding. Not even closely. There was nothing about Meriel or himself that would indicate that their relationship had grown beyond friendship. “How is it that Father Lanaghly is with you?”

“I left the Lowlands soon after I arrived. There is no word about Clyde, but neither was one expected. You’ll be glad to know you have another nephew. A very loud nephew, by the way. Colin’s son is only a few months of age but can drown out all present if he is not happy. I quickly wished Colin and Makenna well and made my way back up north. I decided that I might want to make sure that Conan . . . um . . . was behaving.”

It was now Meriel’s turn to be confused. “Did Laurel send you there as well?” she asked, not realizing until it was too late that she was voicing her thoughts aloud.

Conor chuckled. “Uh, no. She had no idea, but I’ll remind her of the dangers I faced if I returned too early, if she decides to lecture me.”

“I think this particular lecture is one you are going to enjoy,” Father Lanaghly added, wiping his nose, unable to hide his mirth.

Craig knew his sister-in-law had been involved in the scheme to bring him to McTiernay Castle. Conor had practically said so when he asked him to come and take over in his absence. But now it was evident that his brother knew exactly
why
Craig had been summoned. And by staying away, Conor had tacitly supported the whole plot. Though the outcome had benefited Craig, he just hated being manipulated, and his eldest brother needed to be reminded of that fact.

“Father Lanaghly, would you be so kind as to escort Meriel back to the castle? She is learning to ride, but does not feel more comfortable going faster than a walk. Meanwhile, I think I might join my brother. I have something to discuss with him.”

Father Lanaghly nodded and Conor beamed. “I expect you do.”

Meriel rode silently for several minutes, trying to decide how or even if she should ask the father why he was so happy. But before she could, he saved her the trouble. “You and Craig will want to marry soon, I expect.”

Meriel’s eyes popped open wide. “Aye. We were just deciding to have it at my home—Caireoch. But we both still want you to perform the ceremony.” Father Lanaghly’s smile broadened. “But . . . but . . . how did you know?”

Father Lanaghly eyed the grass embedded in her braid. He knew of only a couple of ways that could happen. He doubted she had been rolling with the children down the hills, so that left one likely option. “Oh, I have my ways.”

Meriel tried to ignore the pounding sound outside Caireoch Castle as she bent over the chest, praying the thread she wanted to give one of the weavers was inside. If it was not there, she had no idea where it could be. Her room was a nightmare. Before she had left for McTiernay Castle, she knew where every scrap of yarn, material, and thread was buried. Then Raelynd had ransacked her room under some pretense that she was organizing it. Meriel had yet to decide just how she was going to return the “favor,” but making a mess of Raelynd’s bedchamber did not seem very imaginative, nor would it create the same level of frustration.

Meriel reached the bottom of the chest, but the thread remained lost. “
Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diab-hal an cat,”
she muttered to herself, wishing her sister could overhear her. Meriel was not prone to cursing, but Raelynd liked cats, and sending one to the devil felt a little cathartic.

Meriel found the orderly state of her room to be highly annoying, but she was most peeved with her sister for not living up to her promise to look after the weavers and the seamstresses. After a week of dealing with friends and family and guests, today was the first time she had had a chance to truly sit down and meet with the women who kept the castle and villagers clothed and warm. What she had learned was that her sister had done an abysmal job, and that was being kind. Meriel understood that Raelynd had been sick during much of her absence, but not one weaver had been given a single shred of instruction! And yet her sister had found the time to come into her room and ruin everything by putting it all up and out of sight. But for the people who made the blankets, the tapestries, most of the basic needs of the castle and village . . . nothing. Raelynd had never involved herself with such matters before, so she decided it was easiest not to interfere. As a result, the weaving and sewing staff had just continued with the last direction Meriel had given. Fortunately, that was to make blankets for the winter.

Meriel pushed to her knees and rose to her feet to go to the open window. She looked down, and from what she could see, the wrecked cart that had earlier created quite the stir in the bailey when it had collided into several barrels of fresh ale, remained broken despite all the banging. She glanced up into the cloudless sky. The afternoon sun was beginning its downward path, but there were still a few hours of light left in the day. The cool weather had been unusually beautiful for late fall, growing cold only at night.

With a scowl, she reached over to close the window, hating that she had to choose between a stifling room and a headache. Just as she clicked the shutter into place, she found herself being whisked into the air. “Craig, wherever did you come from?”

“My mother, originally.” She swatted his shoulder.
Thump! Thump!
Craig arched a brow at the muted but still irritating sound. “It’s no wonder you did not hear me come in. But no matter now,” he said, heading toward the open door of her room.

Meriel leaned over and began to nibble playfully at his neck. “Such a surprise to see you so early. I feared it would be long after dark before you could return.”

As commander of Schellden’s army as well as her father’s elite guard, Craig’s responsibilities were many. Their army was still depleted after losing many in the costly war with the English. Until they had replenished most of their numbers, his days would be long and draining. “Aye, I probably should still be out there, but you and I have had plans for this particular day since our wedding night.”

As Craig descended down the stairwell, Meriel realized he intended to step outside with her still in his arms. She began to squirm. “Wait, just what are you doing?”

A bemused smile took over his lips. “I believe I am carrying you.”

“I mean it, Craig! Answer my question . . . and . . . is your shirt wet?” she asked as her mind took a sudden turn, realizing that he was more than just damp with sweat.

“Aye. I jumped in the river before coming to get you. The state of my leine would have rendered the effort of washing my body useless, so I left it on. Lucky for you to be married to such an intelligent Highlander.”

She had married a madman, she decided. It was practically winter, and though the weather had yet to become bitter and cold, it was cool enough for one to become quite chilly if wet—which she was quickly becoming as he held her in his arms. Meriel was about to say as much when she noticed that Craig was not carrying her to somewhere inside the bailey. He was headed to the gatehouse.

Meriel started to struggle in earnest. “Craig! Just what is going on?”

When he answered her with nothing more than a satisfied grin, she gave up and settled down in his arms. Only then did he offer her an explanation. “I’m taking you to our home. A week ago, your father watched us marry and then afterward proceeded to act as if it had not even happened.”

Meriel bit her bottom lip, remembering. Her father had been far from surprised by the news that she and Craig were in love and had decided to marry. Moreover, he had been pleased knowing that both his daughters were marrying good men that not only came from an allied clan, but were ones he respected and already considered family. But his happiness vanished the moment Craig mentioned that he intended to take Meriel and move out of the castle and into his cottage. Rae Schellden might not have minded gaining a son, but he was not amenable to losing a daughter, and he made his feelings known on the matter. With the wedding in potential jeopardy of being postponed, Craig agreed to spend one week at Caireoch. As of that morning, their first week of marriage had passed.

“Rae needs to recognize that you are my wife first and his daughter second.”

Meriel doubted her father would ever accept ranking second in anything, but she could not argue with Craig about the principle. “You speak as if living at Caireoch has been awful.”

Craig twitched his lips. Residing in her old bedroom had sounded quite horrific at first, but it had been surprisingly comfortable. The room took practically the whole floor, so space was abundant. Still, he and Meriel were married, and he wanted them to live and sleep in their home. Mostly, he wanted privacy—something he was sure they would not have if things remained as they were. “How I feel about Caireoch is beside the point. The last of my family left this morning, and it is time for you and me to act like husband and wife.”

“We have been—and quite often—if my memory is accurate,” she teased.

“You know what I mean,” he growled as he entered the village.

Meriel swallowed. They were becoming quite the spectacle, and Craig was either enjoying being the center of attention or oblivious to the stares. “Put me down,” she hissed.

“I fully intend to carry my bride to our home and put her down after we cross the threshold.”

“People are staring.”

“Aye, I do believe they are.”

Meriel inhaled sharply. “Put me down, Craig. Everyone knows we are married and have been for several days. So I do not think there is any need for you to follow tradition and hide my ‘enthusiasm’ by carrying me into our home.”

Craig shrugged. “Maybe I need to hide mine.”

Meriel gave a quick nod and a wave to two of the women weavers she had just spent hours with that afternoon. If she survived the humiliation, she was going to be a widow by her own hands. Then, seeing smoke rise from one of the cottages, she asked, “What about food? I did not think we would be coming to your cottage—”

“Our cottage.”

“
Our
cottage tonight. What are we going to eat?”

Craig shrugged his shoulders dismissively and looked down at her. “When we get hungry, I’ll run up to the kitchens and get us something.”

He was smiling, and not just any one of the grins he typically wore. It was the same one Raelynd had been wearing practically since the moment of their arrival. “You look almost as smug as my sister. You realize that she actually believes
she
is the reason why we are married.”

“Aye, Raelynd is a little self-satisfied, but after the past few nights of enjoying you in my bed, I can forgive her for being so infuriatingly right.”

Meriel opened and then closed her mouth. She could try reminding him that it was
she
who suggested the type of kiss that sparked the realization of their attraction. And that it was
she
who mustered the nerve to leave and that it was
she
who did all the planning and made the effort that successfully outsmarted one of the Highlands’ craftiest strategists. But she knew it would do no good. If Craig was going to give anyone credit for their coming together, he would give it to himself, for what he termed his “heroic” patience the afternoon he finally admitted he loved her.

“You say that now,” Meriel warned. “But after a year or two of Raelynd taking all the credit for our happiness, I expect my being in your bed is not going to seem quite the worthwhile prize it currently does.”

Craig pulled her slightly closer. He would have argued with her, for he had no doubt whatsoever that even after a few decades, nothing would compare with holding her as they fell asleep in each others’ arms. But there was no time. They had arrived at their destination. Kicking the cottage door open, he carried her inside and slowly lowered her to her feet before closing his mouth over hers, searing her lips.

When she finally eased away, she turned around, instantly glad that he could not see her pained expression. The three-room cottage was large compared to most in the village, and despite his grumblings that he had no need of the space, it had been given to Craig because of his position. One entered into a long main room. A large window next to the front door allowed light to shine down on the large table and its accompanying four chairs. In the middle was the kitchen area, with a hearth large enough to warm the entire cottage as well as cook family-size meals. In the back of the room, farthest from the entrance, was a sitting area consisting of a large, thick rug and two padded chairs similar to the ones in the McTiernay and Caireoch Great Halls, just not of the same quality.

On the left wall were two doors. The closet was wide open and led to a small space that had probably been intended for a bedroom, but was being used by Craig to house an array of items, mostly associated with weapons and horses. And while she and Craig were not exactly two people who cared about tidiness and organization, it suddenly dawned on her that there was one significant difference in the kind of mess they created—his mess included dirt.

Meriel took it all in, examining every corner, every piece of furniture, shelf, and storage nook. Nothing was left uncovered or free for use. It was not that she had expected the place to be clean; however, she had assumed Craig would have picked up a little before bringing his bride home. But, if anything, the cottage was even more chaotic than she remembered. The only things that belonged to her were the few bags she had taken to the McTiernays. Seeing them stacked in a far corner of the spare room made her feel like a visitor, not a mistress.

Craig undid his leather belt, simultaneously freeing not only his sword but his tartan. Tossing the large metal weapon onto the kitchen table with a resounding thump, he let the kilt fall to the floor, not caring what potential muck it might have landed on. Grabbing the string on the back of his calf, he yanked the tie to loosen the leather so he could slip his shoe off. After freeing his other foot, he grasped her wrist and walked through the kitchen to the back sitting area.

As she followed him, Meriel was able to quickly spy the second room, which she already knew to be the main bedroom. As expected, it was both very large and very messy, but thankfully the bed was the one place where Craig had not piled anything.

Craig stopped beside a chair and brushed off the two leather straps coiled on the seat, letting them fall to the floor. Meriel moved to occupy the second chair but was stopped by his hand on her wrist, still secure in Craig’s grasp. He gave it a soft tug and when she got close enough, he picked her up and placed her comfortably across his legs. “I thought we could at last resume our nightly chats, talk about our day, plans for the morrow, or whatever we wanted.”

Meriel leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I don’t remember ever doing so from your lap before.”

“I clearly recall you telling me how you were reluctant to resume old habits. I am just trying to be obliging,” Craig responded with feigned innocence.

Meriel chuckled and kicked off her own shoes. She decided to ignore the disorder surrounding her and focus on the positives of finally being completely alone with her husband. “So how are your men? And Callum? Is he faring well?” she asked before she took his earlobe between her teeth.

Craig sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. “Um, Callum, he is doing well,” he lied. He had selected the young man to be his second-in-command, knowing he was new to leadership of any kind. But leaving an inexperienced second-in-command in charge for such a long period had caused some issues. Still, the man was honest, fair, extremely smart, and had a gift for instructing men. His ability to plan did not come as naturally as it did to Craig, but he was learning fast.

Meriel swirled her tongue in his ear. “Tell me more.”

She was daring him to talk during her sensual assault and Craig knew he had to rise to the challenge, otherwise Meriel would realize the power she had over him. “Callum needs only confidence and experience. I . . . umm . . . I mean he unfortunately had neither when I left.” Losing the battle, Craig changed tactics, pulling her back so that he could kiss her neck. “Though I think . . . the lessons he encountered he . . . will not have to relearn. Still, it might not be a . . . good idea for me to leave for an extended period for a while.”