Read Mark of the Highlander (The MacLomain Series: Next Generation, Book 1) Online
Authors: Sky Purington
McKayla sensed the clan’s willingness to accept Colin as their Laird. She saw proud nods between the men, awed looks on the faces of children, and warm smiles shared between the women.
Even Bradon wore a look of admiration when he glanced at his brother.
William faced Colin, hands grasping his shoulders. It was hard not to stare at them, at something she never thought in a million years she’d witness. Trevor…Colin…becoming chieftain of a Scottish clan. William said nothing for a long moment, just stared into Colin’s eyes, before he nodded. Something passed between them, an air of recognition, an understanding that only those of the Maclomain clan were aware. Because in that moment all the men surrounding the outer rim of the room snatched weapons off the wall and raised them high in the air.
With a mighty roar they cried, “
Ne parcus nec spernas
!” three times.
Even Malcolm.
What she wouldn’t give to know what that meant. McKayla didn’t like being in the dark, but didn’t dare ask the man on her arm. William and Colin raised their joined hands in the air. As a loud crack of thunder rumbled overhead, so too did a huge round of hoots and cries from within.
It was impossible not to smile…especially when Colin looked her way. Sweltering summer heat had nothing over the fire in his ravenous gaze. In fact, his regard held her so enthralled that she nearly missed it when William said, “But what would a new MacLomain laird be without a new MacLomain wife?”
Even as Malcolm walked her away from the crowd and toward the men before the fire, McKayla still didn’t process what’d been said. Well, partially. There was a niggling of dread that Colin was to be married. Right now. Had he not left another at the altar? Would it not make sense that he made up for that? But tonight? She felt sick. How could he? She knew how. To make up for all the wrongs he’d inflicted on his family and clan. No sacrifice was too great. Not even her. It was his duty, she understood that, but she didn’t have to bear witness to it? Did she?
When Malcolm released her, Colin took her hand. Her knees almost buckled. Oh God, he was going to tell her how sorry he was that he’d have to marry another right here, right now in front of the entire clan. She would die from humiliation. Why did they bring her here, just to shame her? And where was the next MacLomain wife? She wanted to see her, to look her in the eyes. She didn’t know why. But she had too.
The thought of being trapped in the past having to watch Colin with another woman made her physically ill. She searched the faces in the crowd for his bride. But she saw no one. Something wasn’t right. Then it occurred to her that there were no other women standing nearby. The next thing she knew she was being pushed before a man in brown robes. William, Iain, Bradon and Malcolm flanked them. Frowning, she looked over at the four of them. What the hell?
Bradon winked.
Malcolm scowled.
Iain and William grinned.
The crowd seemed curious.
What was everyone so damn happy about? She didn’t think it was too funny having to watch the man she lov…, Colin marry another, but the rest of them sure seemed to be enjoying her misery.
Colin leaned over and whispered, “This is just for show, lass. The clan needs to see unification.”
McKayla frowned and whispered back, “I don’t understand.”
The man in robes spoke but his brogue was so thick she barely caught a word. Her frown deepened when he wrapped a bit of plaid around her and Colin’s entwined hands.
“Again, just for show,” Colin assured with a whisper before he said aloud, "I, Colin MacLomain tak thow McKayla to my spousit wyf as the law of the Haly Kirk schawis and thereto I plycht thow my trewht and syklyk."
Now Colin’s brogue was so thick she could barely make sense of it. What the heck had he just said? Her name was in there somewhere. The man in robes looked at her kindly, expectantly, as he said a whole slew of undiscernible words.
Colin leaned over and whispered yet again. “Just say yes. Even a nod will do.”
McKayla shook her head, beyond confused.
Colin grinned. “Nay, dinnae shake your head lass. Nod.”
Her brows came together. “Tell me why.”
“Do you want to help save my clan? Do you want to get home safely?” he said softly.
She nodded. “Yes, of course.”
The robed man made the symbol of a cross in the air, smiled and removed the cloth from their hands. The room burst into another round of cries and shouts. Oh shoot, she’d nodded and said yes.
But what had just happened?
The next thing she knew Colin was surrounded by clansmen and she was wrapped in Arianna’s warm embrace. Kind eyes assessed her when she pulled away. “You’ve not a clue what just happened, do you lass?”
McKayla continued to frown. “Uh, no, I don’t.”
Arianna sighed but smiled regardless. “It went much the same way for me. Tricked right into it I was. Never was I more furious! But thank the good Lord it happened.” Her loving gaze went to Iain who had joined them. “Or I wouldnae have had so many wonderful years with my husband.”
Iain pulled her close. “Please dinnae be half as harsh on Colin as Arianna was on me, aye?”
“When
what
happened?” she asked, feeling almost foolish. Because what she thought happened couldn’t have possibly. There was no way. There better not have been.
Before she knew it Bradon pulled her in for an embrace and said, “Welcome to the family, sister. If I had only found you first.”
Eyes wide, she jerked back. “Sister?”
“Aye.” A crooked grin erupted. “Are you not married to my brother then?”
“What…say that again?” she stuttered.
“Oh dear.” Arianna shook her head.
Iain shrugged and looked skyward. “He’s in for it now, he is.”
“In for what?”
Colin’s voice came so close to her ear that she jumped. How had he ended up behind her? Turning, she frowned. “What are they talking about? Because I never agreed to marry you, Colin. You never even asked! How…how…” She started to trip over her words again.
Before she could argue further, Colin scooped her up, made his way through a well-meaning crowd and brought her outdoors. The air was only slightly less oppressive. Though thunder rumbled across a dark and brooding sky, no rain fell. He carried her down the steps, banked a sharp right and went down a small arched hallway connecting the main courtyard to a much smaller one. About halfway down, he finally stopped and sat on a bench tucked in an alcove. Torches burned along the way but their nook was hidden from curious eyes.
McKayla was about to freak out but he put a finger to her lips. “Please, lass, hear me out. Aye, what happened in there was a wedding but it doesnae mean anything. They were useless words said to show unification to the clan before what is going to be a verra difficult time. I’m sorry that I didnae ask first but it all happened so fast.”
Fast? Was he kidding? But his heart was in his eyes so when he removed his finger she didn’t lash out. She looked down and realization hit. “This dress.” Her eyes met his. “A wedding dress. You knew when you saw me upstairs.”
“Aye,” he replied. “William seemed to think our being wed was imperative to rally the clan and I wasnae inclined to argue with him after everything I’ve put them all through.”
“So it wasn’t your idea?
“Nay.”
McKayla was surprised to feel a nugget of disappointment.
“Not to say I wasnae eager to see his idea through…even without your knowledge.”
Though she knew she should be more upset, she wasn’t. Because Colin was right, once she went back home her marriage to him wouldn’t exist. They’d been married…eight hundred years in her past, for God’s sake. No court of law would recognize it or even understand it for that matter!
However, it was impossible to ignore that he’d lied,
again
. “Colin, I think you’ll be an even harder man to trust than Trevor. That, I suppose, is the saddest part of all.”
“Did you really have no clue whatsoever about what was happening, McKayla? None at all?”
Was he trying to turn this around on her?
“Don’t you dare try to make this my fault.” McKayla raised her voice. “Sure, I might’ve started catching on but what was I supposed to say in front of all those people? Stop! I don’t want to marry you!”
A couple slowed when they heard raised voices but continued on when they realized it was their new laird and his wife.
“Sure,” he responded, adjusting his legs so she nestled more firmly on his lap. “I think if the idea truly turned you off you would’ve handled things differently.”
Much like when they’d been on her bed back home, McKayla tried to ignore the feel of his firm thighs, large build, and earthly male scent. More than that, she tried to ignore how much sense he made. “Despite what a complete jerk you’ve been since the start of all this—” She made a gesture at his wide chest. “My best friend’s in there somewhere and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. Especially considering what he was facing…
is
facing.”
Sensing victory, he took her hand. “Though it might not have been tonight I did ask you to marry me.”
McKayla choked on emotion. Yes he had. “Then you ran and ended it.”
When she went to get off his lap he pulled her closer. “I didnae bring that up to slap you in the face with it, lass. I brought it up because I want to right all my wrongs. I have many regrets and that is the biggest one. I never meant to hurt you. I never should have asked you to begin with. ‘Twas my fault not yours. I knew we were from different worlds, and I knew I could never give you the life you deserve.”
His voice grew more impassioned. “When I told you just yesterday at Stonehenge that I loved you more than anyone, anywhere at any time, they were not words from one friend to another. Nay, they were words said by a man who loves you deeply; who would’ve married you had the circumstances been different.”
“Now they are,” she whispered.
“Now they are,” he whispered. He ran his fingers through her hair, cupped the back of her head and sat forward until their lips were mere inches apart. “And here, not only are you my love but every inch my wife.”
His free hand caressed her thigh, its heat a burning brand through the thin material of her dress. Lightning crackled and seemed to electrify the suddenly sparse air. Colin’s hooded gaze relished the slight quiver of her expectant lips, the sharp rise and fall of her chest. “There will always be one truth between us McKayla and that is my love for you. ‘Tis strong and wicked and wholly yours. And mark my words, ‘tis something that cannae ever be taken from you.”
McKayla almost said, “Fool me once shame on you,” but couldn’t seem to push the words past her lips. Everything about Colin MacLomain bespoke risk. As much as she sought only truth now she knew better. Here in Scotland he’d led a very secretive life. After all, he’d said as much. To truly let him into her heart meant embracing tolerance. But how different would that be for her anyway? Trevor had always been difficult to understand.
Yet she allowed them to grow closer over the years. Why? Plain and simple. She loved him. And as it turned out they didn’t need a physical relationship for that love to grow and strengthen. Did it make her weak to give into him now? To allow him the benefit of her compliancy? Perhaps. But as she gazed into his eyes, with a summer storm rolling in and the sound of pipes and celebration all around, McKayla knew she would’ve said yes had he asked her earlier to wed him.
Understanding that she needed him to ask the question, he set her on the bench and dropped to one knee. “Will you marry me then?”
“So backwards,” she murmured when he grinned and kissed her. Long, slow, so languid her body ignited in white hot delicious desire.
“I’ll marry you,” she whispered.
Never before had her skin felt burned, fevered, enflamed like this. Tongue exploring the deep recesses of her mouth, Colin pulled her back onto his lap and repositioned her so that his rigid, steel length pulsed eagerly against her swollen center. Rain started to pour, sending a soothing mist of wind down the hallway.
“Eyes,” she murmured into his hungry mouth.
He groaned and banged the wall by his side.
His lips only left hers long enough to say, “Come,” when a small panel slid open to their right.
Before she had a chance to be impressed by the hidden door, he sidled through with her still on his lap. With an impatient thwap he hit the wall and it slid shut. Just like that they were sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the wall in a tiny stone open-air room covered by the steep edges of the castle. McKayla only had a split second to notice rows and rows of Heather, Bluebells and a variety of other sweet-smelling flowers before Colin yanked up her dress enough so that she could straddle him.
The contact between her already swollen flesh and the rough wool of his tartan made her whimper in near release. Issuing a harsh breath against her neck, he ran his hands up her thighs and grasped her backside.
“Too bloody long,” he murmured against her aching skin, sucking then licking then whispering words she couldn’t hear.
While she knew he was talking about the last time they’d been together, to her it was all feeling very much like the first time. His body was, well,
different
. Even the way he touched her felt new, unique, way beyond incredible. And as for ‘too bloody long’ she suspected that would soon be proven true. His impatient shaft pulsed against her, restless for freedom.