A Merry MacNaughton Mishap: An Historical Romance Novella (MacNaughton Castle Romance) Page 9

  Hamish took a breath and began playing the bagpipes. Malachi escorted his daughter and handed her off to Calum. The panic and doubt had vanished from her clear, green eyes. Her smile caught his breath. Caught up in her beauty and the good fortune the Lord had bestowed upon him, he barely heard the words spoken by the reverend. Peigi squeezed his hand, and he realized it was time to speak. His gaze locked with hers. “I vow ye the first cut of my meat, the first sip of my wine. From this day it shall be only yer name I cry out in the night and yer eyes that I smile into each morning. I shall be a shield for yer back as ye are for mine, nor shall a grievous word be spoken about us, for our marriage is sacred between us and no stranger shall hear my grievance. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor ye through this life and into the next.” He saw her the emotion glistening in her eyes and squeezed her fingers in reassurance.

  She responded in a husky voice that held a promise of later passion. “Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my body, that we two might be one. I give ye my spirit, ’til our life shall be done.

  “Ye canna possess me for I belong to myself, but while we both wish it, I give ye that which is mine to give. Ye canna command me, for I am a free person, but I shall serve ye in those ways ye require and the honeycomb will taste sweeter coming from my hand.”

  As she spoke the words, and a look of love passed between them, his pulse slowed and that familiar calm filled him that only came with her presence. He had found the woman he wanted to grow old with, watching the lines of time appear around her eyes and mouth, stroking the silver threading her hair and kissing the lips that would always be soft and willing.

  Reverend Robertson ended the ceremony with a Scottish blessing.

  Lord help us to remember when

  We first met and the strong love between us.

  To work that love into practical things so that nothing can divide us.

  We ask for words both kind and loving and hearts always ready to ask for forgiveness as well as to forgive.

  Dear Lord, we put our marriage into yer hands.

  Hamish began playing the bagpipes again, the haunting notes putting tears in any dry eyes left in the small cottage. He bent and kissed his wife, lingering on soft lips that tasted of honeyed mead. As much as he loved his family, Calum wanted to be alone with this woman who had haunted his heart and mind. His desire had been kindled and stoked, and he could not wait to make her his in body and soul.

  Malachi wrapped his daughter in a fierce hug. “Yer face tells me what I ken in my heart. Ye did right, Peigi. Yer mother is smiling down upon us.” He shook Calum’s hand. “It’s an honor to call ye my son.”

  Mairi was next, sobbing and beaming at the couple. “Och, my handkerchief is a sodden mess. I’m so happy for ye both.”

  “May I kiss my sister?” asked Finley, his light red hair shining with streaks of gold in the candlelit room. He pulled her into a hug and pecked her cheek. “No’ to worry, Brother. I willna go to extremes.”

  Calum tried to remove his frown, but when Hamish pulled his Peigi into an embrace, he’d had enough. “Away with ye both, or ye willna see yer own wedding.”

  Angus had been silent throughout the ceremony, a grin on his ruddy face. Now he came forward, a warning look at his son. “Ye’ll have her to yerself soon enough, Son.” He turned to Peigi. “I’d like to welcome my daughter to the family.” He took both her hands and kissed the top of her head then gave way to Ailish.

  The two women shared a look that spoke of affection. “I finally have a daughter to call my own. May ye always be this happy, lass.” Ailish handed her a beautiful scarf in the MacNaughton colors of red, blue, and green with a pewter clasp pinned to it. In the center of the circular clasp was the round tower of the castle, gems matching the clan colors glittered between the crenellations.

  Peigi gasped and held her new mother-in-law close. “Och, it’s stunning, and I thank ye for all yer words of wisdom.”

  Calum’s heart was full. His family around him, a woman by his side who would stir his blood and be a good confidante and mother, and a future that promised good fortune. The New Year’s Day could not have ended any better, he thought, until his wife tugged on his sleeve.

  She whispered in his ear, a shy smile on her face, “I find myself getting so verra tired, Husband. Shall we retire soon?”

  Or maybe it could.

  Epilogue

  A Fulfilling Finale

  Four years later

  Hogmanay

  MacNaughton Castle

  Calum stretched and rolled over on the thick, heather-stuffed mattress. His head lay on the pillow, breathing in the scent of heather and woman. A satisfied woman.

  He’d been gone too long. A trip to America and a long stop in Edinburgh. Six months without his wife. Six months without his daughters, Glynis or Maeve. Six months without the feel of Peigi’s skin against his, her image the first he saw upon awakening. He would not leave her again if he could help it.

  Arriving on Hogmanay—for he rode like a demon chased by an archangel to make it on time—Peigi had met him in the hall with mistletoe, requesting a kiss. It had been their custom each year following their marriage. This year, she’d turned the tables on him, and demanded a kiss of him. The girls had been there to greet him and his heart was full, surrounded by his females. Glynis, now three, ran to him, her auburn curls bouncing, and grabbed his knee with chubby arms. “Da, Da!”

  Peigi had set down Maeve and the child toddled after her older sister. The bairn had her mother’s dark hair and face but the deep blue eyes of her father. “She took two steps last week and hasna stopped,” his mother had informed him. And he’d missed it. No more.

  Now, he looked down at this woman who had come into his life through a mishap. A merry mishap for this MacNaughton. Saints and sinners, he was a lucky man. A beautiful, intelligent wife who loved him, two lovely and precocious daughters, and a prosperous future before them. The old seer from The Thistle Inn had predicted this. He was glad he’d paid her well, though he’d thought her words nonsense at first. But Hogmanay had a long history of superstitions, faeries, and spirits past and present. Who was he to question fate? Especially when it favored him in such a way.

  Peigi’s thick tresses fell across the pillow, and he rubbed a lock between his fingers. The coverpane had fallen to her waist, her breasts bared. He traced the outline of one creamy mound with his finger, leaned over her shoulder, and nuzzled her ear. She stirred; her eyelids fluttered open. A lazy smile curved her lips as she lifted an arm and allowed him free access. He dipped his head again, his lips trailing along her shoulders and neck.

  “Mmm,” she moaned, a sultry sound that made him hard and aching with need. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled over, setting her on top of him.

  “Good morning, Wife. It’s good to see ye again when I open my eyes.”

  Peigi chuckled, a smile curling her plump lips.

  “Perhaps we made a son last night.” She kissed him and laid her head back on his chest.

  “It doesna matter,” he said as he stroked her disheveled hair. “I ken it bothers ye, but ye must believe it truly doesna make a difference. I love my bairns no matter the sex.”

  “Ye dinna care if ye have sons to inherit?” She leaned up on an elbow, digging it into his armpit. “I do find it hard to believe.”

  “Mo chridhe, our daughters will give us males that will carry the MacNaughton Clan into another generation. If we dinna have a son, I plan on living long enough to pass the title on to a grandson.” He kissed her nose. “So worry about something more important like keeping yer husband fed and satisfied.”

  “But how can ye no’ crave sons? It’s a man’s legacy, his driving desire to continue his name through his male offspring.” Peigi’s eyes were bright, and he knew this was one of the few regrets she had in their marriage thus far.

  “Do ye remember what I told ye when I asked ye to be my wife?”

  Peigi nodded and ga
ve him a watery smile.

  “I’ll no’ have a woman telling me what I feel or dinna feel, what I want or dinna want.”

  She finished for him. “And I’d be wise to remember that in the future.”

  “And it shall be a long and happy future. A wee faerie told me so.”

  THE END

  About the Author

  Bestselling and award-winning author Aubrey Wynne is an elementary teacher by trade, champion of children and animals by conscience, and author by night. She resides in the Midwest with her husband, dogs, horses, mule, and barn cats. Obsessions include wine, history, travel, trail riding, and all things Christmas. Her books have received the Golden Quill, Aspen Gold, Heart of Excellence, and the Gayle Wilson Award of Excellence.

  Aubrey’s first love is medieval romance but after dipping her toe in the Regency period in 2018 with the Wicked Earls’ Club, she was smitten. This inspired her spin-off series Once Upon a Widow. In 2020, she will launch the Scottish Regency series A MacNaughton Castle Romance with Dragonblade Novels.

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