Eighteen
Brody leapt to his feet in one fluid motion, despite his nakedness. He snatched his sword, which always laid within reach, while Laurel scrambled to cover herself. She watched in horror as the king’s men swarmed the chamber, followed by Monty, Donnan, and King Robert himself. She heard voices in the passageway and could envision the scene as people rushed to discover what was happening in Laird Campbell’s chamber.
“I see you couldn’t wait a sennight,” King Robert mused.
“I see you’ve corrupted my sister,” Monty bellowed as he pushed forward. He spared a glance at a mortified Laurel, who Brodie attempted to shield as she reached for his discarded leine and struggled into it while showing no more skin. She couldn’t don her own chemise, which had the proof of her maidenhood on it. That would be too much to bear, and she suspected she would soon be compelled to hand it over to King Robert.
“I spent the night with my wife,” Brodie snapped. “Out. Every single one of you until my wife is dressed.”
“You think to command me,” King Robert’s voice chilled Laurel, despite the nervous perspiration at her brow.
“Yes,” Brodie said, sword still in hand. “My wife has a right to make herself decent without a horde of men staring at her. That includes you, Your Majesty.”
“I wouldn’t make a habit of this,” King Robert warned.
“As long as no one makes a habit of intruding upon my wife’s privacy,” Brodie countered. Laurel was growing fearful for Brodie’s life, but she wouldn’t dare contradict him. Instead, she sat wide eyed and trembling.
“I am not going anywhere until you explain why you claim she’s your wife,” Monty snarled before turning a wagging finger at Laurel. “Don’t you dare tell me you handfasted. You claim not to be a Highlander anymore.”
“I will always be one, Montgomery. I just blessedly am no longer a Ross,” Laurel quipped. “Have an ounce of Highland honor and get out.”
“You heard Lady Campbell’s wishes. Out,” Brodie barked. King Robert sighed and turned to the door, the others following him.
“Five minutes, then I return,” the Bruce insisted.
Brodie gave a jerky nod as the chamber emptied. He spun around, dropping his sword as he went to Laurel. He helped her to her feet and engulfed her in his embrace. He grew concerned when her trembling didn’t stop. She didn’t feel chilled, but she clung to him, her fingertips digging into his shoulder blades.
“What scares you most, thistle?” Brody stroked her back as she lessened her grip on him.
“I may like you beingmo mathanwhen you hold me, but roaring at the king is likely to land you in the dungeon, or worse, dead.” Laurel’s arms tightened as she spoke aloud the consuming fear that wouldn’t release her.
“Wheest. The Bruce needs me and the Campbells too much to do more than scold me. I suspect he will levy a hefty bride price.” Brodie smirked, “Payable to the crown. And then he will suggest we depart with haste. The entire Campbell clan has been loyal to the king from the beginning. Each sept has sent men to fight alongside him, and I lead the largest one. Now that he is on the throne, he relies on us to help keep him there. I think I made it clear who I will defend.”
“Aye, and it’ll likely get you accused and found guilty of treason,” Laurel shuddered.
“Dinna fash. Let’s dress, and then we will deal with the outside world.”
“We don’t need him barging in again.”
“I promise you he wouldn’t dare.”
Laurel gave him a halfhearted nod as she let go and searched for her stockings. While she slipped into her gown, Brody folded his plaid and retrieved a fresh leine from a satchel. When he stepped behind Laurel to help her with her laces, he kissed the bare skin on her shoulders and the base of her neck, brushing the back of his fingers along her spine. “I won’t be able to think of aught but kenning you are bare beneath this gown. If you must wear something, I wish it could be my leine. You looked quite fetching in it, wife.”
Laurel shivered as Brodie’s warm breath caressed her skin as he spoke. She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs, and her breasts ached for his touch. Brodie mentioning that she wore nothing below her gown made her more aware of the sensual feeling of the fabric and the memory of Brodie’s touch. It was a drug, and she was already an addict. Brodie cupped her breasts as she leaned back against him, her eyes drifting closed as she sighed. He kneaded the flesh as he kissed the silky skin behind her ear.
“We will resolve this, then we will return here.” Brodie’s declaration was seductive, his tone pure honey.
“I’ll race you,” Laurel murmured.
“Only if you will ride me.” Brodie nipped her earlobe.
“I shall need many lessons to become an expert rider.” Laurel turned in his arms and licked her lips. Brodie guided her backward until her legs brushed the back of the bed. She was ready to fall back upon it and bring Brodie with her when someone pounded on the door. They sighed wistfully as Laurel smoothed her hand over her hair. It was tangled, and there was little she could do with it, but she attempted to make it presentable. Brodie quickly finished her laces.
“Enter,” Brodie called as he wrapped his arm around Laurel’s waist but angled himself as a shield should he perceive a threat. Laurel sagged against him for a moment, and he kissed the top of her head. But as the door opened, she straightened and raised her chin imperiously. Brodie glanced down and noticed she stood with the haughtiness that surely contributed to her title. He was proud of his wife.
“You can let go of the lass,” King Robert said. “No one is taking her from you.”
“No.”
