Her Highness and the Highlander: A Princess Brides Romance (28 page)

The sounds grew louder, cheers and clapping and shouted calls as if the party had
moved from the cottage up here to the hut.

“What is it?” Mercedes asked while the other women moved to the window to look out.

“’Tis yer bridegroom, lass.” A pair of the women laughed. “They’ve got him doin’ the
creeling.”

“The what?” Mercedes frowned.

“Ye’ll see. Just come here.”

Moving apart, the women gave Mercedes room at the window so she could look out onto
the grounds below. The scene was easily viewed, the yard lit by more than a dozen
torches carried by the wedding guests, who had indeed traveled here to the hut rather
than continue the festivities down at the cottage. At the front, walking as if he
were leading a procession, was Daniel, bent slightly forward as he carried some large
burden on his back.

“What on earth is he doing?” she asked. “And what’s that he’s carrying?”

The ladies tittered. “’Tis the creeling basket. It’s filled with stones and he’s got
tae carry it around and around ’til ye give him yer favor.”

“Filled with stones!” she repeated, aghast. Looking at Daniel again and aware now
of exactly what he was doing, she marveled at his stamina in carrying such a clearly
onerous weight.

His strength was impressive, his burden dreadful.

She had to put an end to this immediately. “What do I need to do? You said I have
to bestow my favor? How?”

The women grinned. “Ye’ve got tae kiss him, lass. Only then can he set down the great
weight he’s carrying and have permission tae come inside and claim ye as his bride.”

Well, kissing him would be no hardship, but did they mean she had to go outside in
front of all the assembled guests and kiss him—in her nightclothes no less?

“Ye’d best hurry, Mercedes,” Sara told her, “or they’ll make him walk back tae the
cottage and start the circuit all over again.”

“Over again—” Her mouth dropped open. Closing it quickly, she hurried out of the bedroom
and down the stairs, giving no more thought to her lack of proper attire.

Buzzing with excitement, the women followed eagerly behind.

She flung open the door and raced outside.

The crowd stopped and turned at the sight of her, Daniel along with them.

A roar went up.

“There’s yer bride, lad,” called one of the men. “But will she put ye from yer misery
or send ye along yer way?”

The wedding party cheered again, then quieted, clearly awaiting her answer.

“Aye, lass,” Daniel asked, straightening his shoulders with pride and amazing ease
despite the heavy weight he carried on his back. “Will ye kiss me or send me off tae
prove myself tae you even more?”

Send him away? In that moment she knew that was something she would never do. Yet
he looked absolutely confident of her answer. For reasons she would never understand,
an imp rose within her as though she had suddenly been possessed by the faerie folk.

“Well, now,” she said, folding her hands at her waist as if she were wearing a fine
silk ball gown rather than a plain white dressing gown. “I shall have to take a moment
to consider.”

Surprise washed over Daniel’s bold features, his eyes widening briefly.

“You’re a fine figure of a man and I might enjoy watching you walk around a while
more.”

The guests hooted and guffawed, clearly thrilled by her response.

“And you’re strong. Those stones seem heavy, but you’re clearly up to the task.”

“Aye,” Daniel said wryly, his voice low with warning. “I believe you’ll find I’m up
to a great many things this night.”

Fresh hoots and cheers filled the air.

Mercedes shivered, wondering if she’d pressed him too far. But the imp inside her
grinned, enjoying the byplay.

And play it was. Spirited and brazen, the talk of a woman and not a girl. Her pulse
thrummed in her neck and wrists, her skin warming with thoughts of the hours to come.

Abruptly, she was finished making a show of herself and of Daniel.

“I could send you off again and cheer in your plight,” she said, “but you are my husband
and I would never do such a thing. Your burdens are mine to lighten. Your happiness
is mine to increase. So lay down your burden, Daniel MacKinnon, and come accept my
favor.”

The green of his eyes intensified, and he smiled, showing his teeth in a look that
was wicked with promise. “It shall be my pleasure, Mrs. MacKinnon.”

With a quick movement, he pushed the basket off his shoulders and let it drop to the
ground with a thud. Seconds later, he swept her into his arms and bent his head. “It’s
going to be your pleasure too,” he murmured quietly so only she could hear.

Then they were kissing, the claps and calls of the others fading to an indistinct
hum as she lost herself in the wonder of his embrace. Wrapping her arms around his
neck, she kissed him back, pressing her mouth to his over and over again.

Abruptly it was over and her feet were once again planted firmly on the ground. A
rush of sound assailed her ears and her cheeks heated as she realized how completely
she had forgotten that they were being observed.

But Daniel only laughed.

“Weel, get on wit it, laddie, and carry her over the threshold afore we all need tae
cover our eyes,” someone called.

The wedding guests, including a smiling Dougal and Sara
Cameron, began to clap and sing a Scottish tune Mercedes had never heard.

Her feet left the ground again as Daniel swung her up into his arms, cradling her
high against his sturdy chest. He murmured something in Gaelic that sounded rather
like a pledge, then strode forward and over the threshold into the little house.

A
n intimate quiet settled over her and Daniel as he set her onto her feet in the main
room, but he didn’t release her entirely, keeping one arm curved around her waist.

“Finally,” he told her softly. “I’ve been waiting all day to have you to myself and
half the night as well.”

He tugged her close so that her stomach pressed against the bulge of his sporran and
the fleshy bulge she sensed rising beneath, then leaned down to kiss her.

Contrarily self-conscious, she laid a hand on his chest. “Do you think they’re all
still out there?”

He paused, then cocked an ear to listen.

She listened as well.

There was still laughter and music, but the sounds seemed distant now as if the revelers
had indeed departed.

“It appears they’ve gone back to the Camerons’,” he said. “The dancing and feasting
may well go on all night, but they’ll not trouble us again.”

Her brows rose. “All night?”

“Aye. We Scots love nothing so much as a good
cèilidh
and any chance to have one. What better excuse than a wedding?”

He was right. What better excuse could there be?

How curious to realize she was his wife and that they could be alone together without
hindrance or guilt. From now on any intimacies they shared would be sanctioned by
man and God alike.

She shuddered with pleasure at the thought.

For years, she’d wondered what her wedding day might be like, but never would she
have imagined anything remotely similar to the day she’d had. Many would have found
it beneath her royal lineage, crude and common. But even if she could have been wed
as a princess should, inside a grand cathedral, clothed in the finest silks and satins,
and served the most extravagant foods, she knew now she would not have wanted it.

Plain and quaint as it might have been, she would never want to trade away this wedding
day. She was happy. Happier than she could remember ever being in her life.

And with the night ahead, she planned to be even happier still.

“Shall we go up to bed?” she asked in a low voice.

His eyes flashed with an expression she was beginning to recognize as desire. “Aye,
lass. Let us to bed.”

He’d just taken her hand and they were walking to the stairs when a soft scratching
came at the door.

He stopped and sighed. “I’d like to ignore it, but I suppose we should see who’s there.”

Resigned, Mercedes waited.

He opened the door.

But instead of a person, they found a dog.

“Robbie!” Mercedes smiled as the animal squeezed through the opening and ran to greet
her. “Where have you been all day?”

“In the barn, I believe. Someone must have let him out.” Daniel closed the door, latching
it securely behind him this time.

“Well, I’m glad they did.” She scratched the dog behind his ears. “Do you think he’s
come to wish us well in our marriage?”

Daniel sent her an indulgent smile. “Undoubtedly. Now, why does he no’ settle down
here in front of the fire as he did last night, so you and I can go to bed?”

A tiny shiver chased over her skin at the thought of retiring upstairs to the bedchamber
with Daniel.

Calling gently to Robbie, she led him to the rug in front of the fire and indicated
that he should stay. He wagged his tail and obediently lay down. She wished him good
night, then turned and took Daniel’s hand so they could make their way upstairs.

Mercedes was nervous, which she knew seemed slightly ridiculous considering all the
intimacies she’d allowed Daniel to take the night before—and on other nights, come
to think. Even so, this was her wedding night, the night she would give herself to
him fully.

But this is Daniel,
she reminded herself as she followed him into the bedroom.

My husband.

The man I love.

He closed the door behind them, the lock making a resounding click.

The room was inviting. The bedclothes turned down, candles burning warmly in their
holders, while the sweet scent of wildflowers drifted in the air.

It was all very bridal.

She swallowed and turned to find him gazing at her in a patient, rather knowing way,
as if he could read every thought in her head. A flush chased over her skin—hot and
cold, then hot again.

He took her hand and raised it to his mouth to press a kiss against her palm. “Don’t
be scared,” he murmured.

“I-I’m not.” Her words sounded breathless.

A faint smile curved his mouth and he slid his thumb in a gentle arc against the tender
inside of her wrist before kissing it too. “Good. For ye’ve no reason tae be.”

As she’d noticed in the past, his brogue grew thicker when he was
roused, and from what she could tell, he was definitely roused.

Flattening her palm against his cheek, he stroked the back of her hand. “Why don’t
you get in bed and I’ll join ye in a minute? I thought I’d wash up a bit first, since
they had me doin’ the creeling.”

Mercy
, she’d already forgotten about that. Silently, she nodded.

He moved away to the pitcher and basin.

While he bathed, she turned her back and worked open the buttons on her dressing gown,
her fingers shaking slightly. Slipping off the garment, she draped it neatly over
a chair, then climbed between the sheets. Rather than watching him bathe, she pulled
the covers high and waited, her heart atremble.

She closed her eyes.

His bath finished, he moved to the bed. The mattress depressed as he climbed in, smelling
of clean soap and warm man.

Of Daniel.

Her heart beat harder, anticipation at war with nerves.

She expected him to touch her, to kiss her, but he just lay beside her. Quiet and
unmoving.

She turned her head and found him leaning on one elbow, watching. His eyes were very
green in the candlelight, his face considering.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

Slowly, he stroked his fingers across her forehead and along one cheek. “That ye’re
beautiful, the most beautiful bride any man has ever had.” He brushed the edge of
his thumb over her lower lip. “And that I’m lucky ye’re mine.”

She trembled, banked pleasure rising from within. He was right. She did belong to
him now and not simply because they were wed. She loved Daniel and she adored his
touch. What a simpleton she was to let wedding night jitters get the better of her.
She’d heard there was pain for the woman the first time, but surely it would be fleeting.
Surely
any discomfort would be a small price to pay for being his in all ways.

“Why don’t you blow out the candles?” she suggested invitingly.

He smiled, a wicked tilt to his mouth. “Nae, lass. Tonight I plan tae see you. All
of you.”

She shivered again, her pulse thrumming erratically.

Taking hold of the covers, he pulled them down to expose her to his gaze.

She lay clad only in her thin nightgown. Bending, he pressed his mouth to hers—once,
twice, three times—making each kiss longer and more demanding than the last. Experimentally,
he eased a finger under the square neck of her nightgown, caressing the top edge of
one breast, then the other. “Did the ladies give this to ye?”

“Y-yes.”

“’Tis pretty. A shame we no’ have need of it.”

She didn’t speak, did not know if she could, as he drew the soft cotton up and off,
leaving her completely naked to his gaze. Her instinct was to reach for the sheet
and cover herself, but she held still, forcing herself not to move.

Did he like what he saw? Did she please him?

She dared a look and nearly gasped at the rapt expression on his face, the dark desire
burning in his eyes.

“As I said, ye’re beautiful.” He laid a palm against her throat and began moving it
in a devastatingly slow, downward slide. She couldn’t breathe, fire spreading everywhere
he touched.

“And lucky.” He kissed her again. “Absolutely blessed.”

He glided lower, up and down, over and around, as if he was determined to learn every
inch and curve of her body. And it wasn’t just his hands—both of them now—that explored;
his mouth was busy as well, scattering kisses across each curve and plain and dip.

She arched and writhed, wondering vaguely why she had ever hesitated. Why she had
spent even so much as a minute worrying about what was to come.