A Highlander's Home (19 page)

             
“No,” she laughed. “
It's
just an expression. It means that we meet a man who makes us so utterly happy that we fall madly in love with him.”

             
He pondered this.  “Have ye ever been swept, lass?”

             
She looked up at him.  They had stopped walking and were standing at the edge of the village.  The large stone keep with its tall towers loomed behind it. 
She thought that i
t looked like a scene out of a fairly tale book.  And here was the prince of the land, looking at her with eyes that could mesmerize her without even trying, asking her if she had ever been swept.

             
She shook her head, and said sadly, “No, I haven’t.”

             
The headed back to the keep, him asking questions about her land, her time, her people, she answering the best she could.  His ha
n
d always seemed to be somewhere on her person, whether on her waist, the small of her back guiding her through the path, or rolling
a
curl through his fingers. 

             
The sun had started its decline in the sky, outlining the castle
in its glow.  They found a small table and he grabbed something from behind its leg, continuing to guide her to the entrance of the keep.

             
“Well, lass, thank ye fer walkin’ wi’ me,” he murmured, closer to her ear than he needed to be.

             
Her stomach was feeling that tingling sensation again which caused her to fidget with the silk ribbons at her waist.  “You’re welcome.  It was rather nice.”

             
She leaned over to peer behind him.  “Why is your arm behind your back?”

             
He smiled slowly.  “Do ye really wish to know?”  He was practically purring at her.

             
She bit her lip, her curiosity showing in every grind of her teeth.  A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.  She replied, “I think so.”

             
“’Tis a gift.  For ye.”

             
She waved her hand.  “Oh, you don’t have to get me any gifts.”  She clutched her dress.  “You have given me plenty already.”

             
He scanned the horizon, watching the glow of the sun as it descended further.  The glow was an intense gold, the color of her hair.  He reached over and ran his fingers through it
, then brought a lock of it to his nose.
  “I
was thinking of ye this morn.  I have the scent of ye in my head and I can’t get it out.  And I’m not sure I want to.”

             
Slightly breathless, she asked, “What do I smell like?”

             
He leaned towards her and ran his lips lightly over her cheek.  “Like a meadow of wildflowers after the rain.”

             
Pulling back, he offered her the small
bouquet
of brightly colored flowers he had gathered earlier that day.  They were tied with a green silk ribbon that matched the color of her eyes.

             
He lightly touched her li
ps with his, letting his hands
softly
l
inger at her waist.  Then he smiled and walked away. 

             
She watched him go, his long leather-clad legs taking him away
a bit too
quickly.  She looked at the flowers she was holding.  Then she looked back at where he had been a moment ago.

             
The thought occurred to her that s
he had just been swept.

Chapter 16

             
Lady MacGregor watched the couple from the upper level window overlooking the courtyard.  She sighed and smiled.  Her eldest son, her beautiful son, had found love.  He just didn’t know it yet. 
He was attracted to her.  That was obvious. But what would he do when he realized that he loved her? 

             
She walked towards the staircase.  She would convince him to take his wife to the stones.  It would be difficult, she knew, but she also knew that those stones played a huge part in all of their lives.  What part they played she was not sure.  But she and Mac would figure it out best they could.  Now, she needed that book.

             
Mac smiled as she entered the dusty room with books piled so high they threatened to block out the sun that struggled to shine through the twelve foot windows.  He seldom had visitors here, but he welcomed the distraction.  He knew Lady MacGregor since she was a little girl.  She took well to the teachings of the elders, and she was always a good student.  He had taught her sons, but they did not have the same passion for the old ways as she did.

             
Lady Macgregor smiled back at her old friend.  He never seemed to age.  He had had wild, wiry gray hair when she was a child and it looked now exactly as it had then.  A few lines around his eyes, but time had been kind to him.  His eyes were just as sharp as they had always been.

             
“What brings you up to this dusty old room, m’lady?” he asked, snapping the book he had been reading shut.

             
She ran her fingers over the spine of an ancient book one of the many shelves that lined the walls in this huge room.  “I have come to say hello.”

             
“Hello.”

             
“Hello back
, my lady
.”

             
“And?” he prodded, smiling.  He knew she wanted something, and he would bet his teeth that it was about the beautiful blonde
wife of her son.

             
Seating herself at the table, she met his gaze steadily. 

             
“We have to figure out what we are going to do about them.”  Better to cut to the bone now.  No need to mince words when she was sure her old friend and teacher had probably already hatched a plan in that over educated head of his.

             
Laughing to himself, he inquired, “Do you mean help your son fall in love with his wife and she with him before convincing him to take her to the stones on the winter solstice?

             
She slapped the table and sat back.  “I knew it!  I knew you were hatching some sort of scheme in that brain of yours.  Have you nothing better to do, old man?”

             
He cocked an eyebrow and replied cynically, “Would you have me any other way, my lady?”

             
“No, I would not,” she replied appreciatively.  “I can always count on you, Mac.  You are a true friend.”

             
She strolled towards the window and wiped a circle through the dirt on the glass and looked out over the keep.  “He is trying to court her,” she informed him over her shoulder.

             
He nodded.  “Yes, I know.  I have seen him gathering flowers for her.”

             
“He has not yet bedded her.  I have checked the sheets daily.”

             
Mac frowned.  “Why?  They are married.  It is his right, and holy before God.”

             
She threw him a glance.  “Because she is not ready.  He is trying to
woo
her, Mac, before just throwing her in the marriage bed for a quick tupping.
  And I believe he already loves her but is unaware of it as of yet.
”

             
Mac waved his hands in the air.  “Och, must you speak so
foully
, my lady?  Honestly, it does not become you.  I have been telling you that since you were this high.”  He motioned to his hips.

             
She laughed lightly.  “My apologies, my
dear old
teacher.  Now what shall we do, Mac?  I think we should continue, and help, him to court her.  They are soon to fall in love and consummate the marriage and begin breeding.”

             
“And h
ope that lifts the curse?
Bring peace back to this God forsaken piece of Scottish land
by having children
?” asked Mac
.

             
“Yes,” she snapped. 

             
Fairly stomping over to his side, she grabbed his robe.  “Mac, we need the book.  The one that my grandfather had.  The one that has her picture in it.  We need to figure out what the legend means and how we can help her to lift this curse.”

             
He sighed and ran his fingers through his wild hair, causing it to stick up in various ways even more.  “I have read that book many times, Lady, and I am no closer to figuring it out than I was twenty years ago.  But,” he
held up his hands to silence the objections he knew she was about to hurl in his direction
, “I thought you might wish to read it so I have it here.”

             
He pulled a book off the shelf and rubbed the layer of dust off of it.  Plopping the large heavy book on the table, he lit a candle.  They would be here well into the night.

             
“Yes?” she asked, peeking through the door crack.

             
“I’ve come to kiss ye goodnight
and wish ye pleasant dreams,” Leith
drawled.

             
She gulped.  Raine had just dismissed her ladies for the evening and was preparing for sleep when the knock came. 

             
“May I come in?” he asked with a half grin.  He looked like a canary that had just beaten the cat.

             
She would turn to jelly if she let him in.  She knew it.  She just knew it.

             
“Um, no, I don’t think that would be a good idea.  My lord,” she added.

             
He stood up straight and gave his most helpless look.  “Och, ye cut me honor to the quick, lass.  I’ll not be ravishing ye this night.  I simply thought to wish ye a happy evening, that’s all.  But if ye don’t trust the Laird of his own keep to uphold the
honor
of the women entrusted to his care
…
” his voice trailed off while his hand covered his heart.

             
She stifled a small laugh.  “You promise? No ravishing?”

             
He held up his hand.  “I promise.  No ravishin’
.
”  He wiggled his eyebrows.  “I’m saving that for another night.”

             
She huffed and swatted the door jamb.  “Stop that.  And come in already.”

             
He entered the room as if he owned it, which he technically did.  It was her assigned room while he kept the master room.  She was glad that he had not demanded any marital favors of her and had decided to have separate rooms.  He had said that it was standard for
the husband and wife to have their own separate rooms for privacy sake, but that they would sleep together in the same room.  She was glad for that small favor.  It would make things easier when he took her to the stones and she returned to her own time. 

             
She was about to offer a drink of ale that her ladies had left, but as soon as she opened her mouth, his tongue was in it. 

             
Her lips tried to make an
oooh
shape and her vocal cords should have followed with the appropriate sound, but all that came forth was a soft muzzled sound while her mouth moved to conform to his.

             
His large hands moved from her smooth shoulders slowly downward to the tiny, dimpled small of her back where they seemed to ponder where to travel to next.  His biceps flexed under her fingers as he pulled her hips closer until he was sure that she could feel the heat of his arousal on her belly. 

             
Her lungs were being squished by the giant of a man who sought to choke her with his tongue, and she didn’t care.  She should.  She should kick him in the shin and bring her knee up and cripple that
thing digging into her belly that seemed to be on fire.  But that was a tiny fleeting thought that was being simultaneously burned by this overbearing fire that he had ignited in her while she was drowning in colorful swirls behind her eyelids because of his smell, his taste, the smooth hardness of his skin, the calloused hands that seemed to try to pull her inside of him. 

             
One hand made its way up to the back of her neck and wrapped itself in a fistful of gold and roughly yanked her mouth away from his, leaving his mouth free to bite and suckle on the forcibly exposed swan-like neck of this girl who has managed to wreak nothing but havoc in his life and his keep since she first tumbled upon him that first day in the woods.