Enchanted by The Lord (Historical Victorian Romance) (19 page)

              He shouted with fury. On the far side of the room, he spotted Colin McIntosh throwing down a crossbow and lifting up an axe. Fingall was unarmed, so he slammed the door with his good arm.

              “Get out of here!” He yelled to Jocelyn. She hesitated, then ran around the building.

              There was no one nearby who could help Fingall, so he held onto the door, bracing his feet. Colin tried to get out of the building, but found he couldn’t get out. Instead, he started to hack away at the door. It wasn’t the strongest wood, so it would only be moments before he was upon him, defenseless.

              As the door began to splinter, Jocelyn came around the corner again, this time with a small axe used to chop wood. The moment he saw that, he let go of the handle and snatched the weapon back up from her.

              “Now go!” He insisted, having no time for gratitude. She stood her ground and he realized she’d also brought a hoe, ready to use it to help defend him. He thought to demand she leave, but before he could do that, Colin stepped out of the door. The man was expecting he’d face nothing in return. Instead, he was taken by surprised and received the edge of the Fingall’s blade to his head.

              When he was sure his attacker was dead, Fingall dropped the axe and went to Jocelyn, grabbing hold of her about the waist. “You saved us both.” He said, his voice cracking. “You saved us.”

              “You did pretty well yourself, Fingall MacAllarran.” Jocelyn replied. They embraced, kissing hard and thrilled to still be alive.

###

              The wedding of Fingall and Jocelyn was the event big event of the fall of 1411. All the village was in attendance, including Murron and her new beau, a kind baker by the name of Gerald. He had the approval of Fingall, and had shown himself to be a strong and honorable fighter at Red Harlaw, as the people of Bodhuvan had come to call it.

              When the ceremony was over, there was a feast like none had seen in a long time. It was held at McAllaran's farm, with a rich meal contributed by all the families. After, there was much singing, music, and dancing. Fiddles, pipes, and all manner of instruments were broken out. Though he was no musician, Fingall sang at least one song, one of Dhugall’s favorites.

              “In honor of my brother who I know would have been pleased to see this day. May his memory never fade!” He said, raising a glass. They whole company drank, then drank to the happiness of Jocelyn and Fingall.

              As he made the rounds of welcoming the guests and being congratulated, as Jocelyn did as well, Mártainn cornered him. “You’ve done well at last, Fingall!” The blacksmith told his friend. “Being a lifelong bachelor never suited you, you know.”

              “I know, I know.” He laughed. “I thought my independence was all I craved. It was an excuse, I suppose.”

              “You became too comfortable with your old ways, Fingall. But now the lovely Jocelyn will make an honest man of you.” He proceeded to lecture his friend on the best ways for a man to stay in the good graces of his wife. Though he appreciated the sentiment, the hours were growing late and the man, once in his cups, could hold forth endlessly.

              “I think I should go to her now, before she loses her temper. A good idea, would you not agree?” Fingall said at last, patting his friend on the back.

              “Certainly, certainly! It’ll never do to be gone so long.”

              As their friends and family made merry, Jocelyn and Fingall were finally able to take their leave and adjourn to the cottage. “I thought we’d never be allowed to go.” She laughed as they entered the bedroom.

              “Mártainn wouldn’t stop talking to me. You’d think the man would realize that I’d want some time with you eventually.”

              “Well he’s well away now.” She said, looking about the room nervously. He heard her voice shaking as she spoke.

              He put his arms around her. “Hey there. My lass, you needn’t be nervous.”

              “You’ll have more experience in these things than me. I fear I’ll be a disappointment.”

              “Nothing you do or say could ever disappoint me.” He said quietly, lifting her chin up with his hand. “You’re perfect and I’m bewitched by your beauty.”

              Fingall caressed her arms and she reached up to touch his cheeks, run her fingers through his hair. They kissed, gently at first, then with increasing need. They pressed their bodies close. His breath quickened and they helped each other remove their wedding clothes. By the time each was naked, Jocelyn’s body was still shaking with nervousness and desire.

              “Don’t… you won’t… hurt will you? Be gentle.” She warned.

              He kissed her gently and whispered in her ear. “Tell me if you hurt at all. We’ll go as slow as you need. There’s no rush.”

              “No rush.” She agreed, finding herself smiling. “I want you to feel good. I want this to be right, for you to love me.”

              “I do love you, and you never need worry. We have the rest of our lives to get this right. Let’s take tonight to discover each other.”

              She sat on the bed and he knelt down to kiss her neck, working his mouth down her neck and to her breasts. As his tongue moved gently around the curve of her breasts and her nipples, she sighed, feeling increasingly excited. She ran her hands along his back, his chest, and reached down to grasp and feel his erection.

              He touched her as well, feeling the wet warmth between her legs. Her nervousness gone, she held onto him and they began to feel one another, she stroking his hardened shaft and he rubbing the her softly and rhythmically.

              Quietly, though panting, he asked, “Have you ever been kissed there?”

              “What do you mean? I don’t understand what you intend.” She asked. He responded but falling to his knees and gently pressing his lips to her. She was shocked at first by it, then found her mouth open with joy as his tongue ran along her, pressing and licking in ways she hadn’t imagined. Jocelyn held his head, leaned back, and moaned.

              When he was finished, she felt curious. He stood full before her, so she sat on the bed, leaned down, and took him her mouth as well. His grateful gasps told her she was exciting him, and she felt her own excitement rise.

              She stopped before he could become too excited. After kissing his chest and running her hands along the length of his body, she tired of the slow exploration, wanting him in her. She guided him in and he moved slowly, teasing and allowing her to adjust to him inside. When he was in as deep within her as they could meet, the slow, rising friction brought them to greater joy. She felt some discomfort throughout it, but when she did she let him know and he slowed or stopped enough for her to adjust and become comfortable. By the time they’d reached the end, she felt comfortable enough to touch herself as he moved within her and they both came to nearly the same release.

              They lay together after, entwined and exhausted. “Is this real?” She asked, unbelieving. “Are we finally together and happy?”

              “I’m happy.” He assured her. “And I’ll be with you for the rest of my days.”

###

              Old Mártainn finished his final drink and blinked to try to wake himself up. He’d told his story as best he could, though his old wound to the head was said to have made him go a bit senile earlier than most. No one was entirely sure how old the man was, though, and given his great age some degree of forgetfulness was certain.

              Though he hadn’t shared Fingall’s marriage night with his audience- they were certainly not details he was privvy to- he was able to tell them the broad strokes of Fingall and Jocelyn MacAllarran’s lives to the best of his ability. It wasn’t as though he was without some help.

              “Now, I told you they married, but did I tell you they had children?” He asked. The audience laughed, and the middle-aged man to his left patted him on the back. The old man joined in, chuckling.

              “Well, I suppose that part Dhugall MacAllarran can tell you his own self, could he not?”

              “That I could, good sir.” Dhugall agreed. “For instance, I can say I’m pleased to have been named for my uncle and I’m do my best to give honor to both my names. But you’ve done so well in your storytelling, it’d be a shame to stop you now!”

              “I’ll do my best.” He agreed. He steadied himself in his seat and sighed. “Sad to be the last of us from that time. Your mother, there was a wonderful woman. Gone these five years now. Your father passed only a year before.”

              “They lived good long lives, sir, as have you.” Dhugall assured him.

              “I have tried. And they have seen their five children all grow to adulthood and make them proud. Your two sisters, Jocelyn and Murron, have left the village and married well. Dhugall , Kieth, and Uilleam have each grown their stock to become the wealthiest men of the village. All of you have children of your own, most of whom your parents were able to know. Aye, I envy you your happy life ahead as the years before me grow dimmer.”

              Dhugall cleared his throat. “Yet you fought at Red Harlaw, as did many of our town. If you are the last of those men, it is you I envy. I envy your bravery and your chance at honor.”

              The last of the drinks were passed around and Dhugall stood. “To our ancestors and those who came before us. Let their memories never fade.”

THE END

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“Mail Order Love” by Catherine Scott

Murph is a foreman at a Californian goldmine at the turn of the 20
th
Century.  Mentally scared by a mining disaster which drove him to attempt suicide, he was foiled in his attempts by fate. Gifted a second chance, he felt the need to take the reins of life and ride to pastures new. He faced the mine once more and also decided to find love by mail order bride. Margret is from a middleclass family. She is an educated woman who always puts her studies before love, until now that is.  Finally ready to make that final step, she arrived in a small Californian town to meet Murph. She feels out of place in the rough and readiness of the mining community, and even more so because Murph is far from the Prince Charming she had read about in his letters. The pair struggle to grow together, but remain determined to make it a success. However the appearance of Murph’s old flame threatens to kill their blossoming romance.  Murph survived one disaster, but will he survive a second?

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