“Come to ma solar. I see we have much to discuss,” Kieran grumbled. Ronan nodded, but he hadn’t stopped watching Abigail. He didn’t care for her apprehensive visage. Kieran reassured, “She’s nae going anywhere.”
“That isn’t what I’m worried aboot,” Ronan mumbled. He turned his palm up and raised his hand just enough for Abigail to see the offer. She nodded, thrusting her MacLeod plaids at Maude, but clinging to the MacKinnon. She rushed to take Ronan’s hand. “You should be part of this conversation too.”
“Maude?” Kieran asked. He growled when he noticed the grin on his wife’s face. When Maude stepped beside her husband, he wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her off her feet as he walked. Abigail couldn’t hear what Kieran told Maude, but Maude snorted and shook her head. Kieran scowled, and Maude laughed harder as he set her on her feet with such care it belied the strength he’d just used to carry her.
They entered Kieran’s solar to find a cheery fire in the hearth. Ronan led Abigail to the fireplace and, without thought, took her hands in his and rubbed them to get the blood flowing again. The exhaustion in Abigail’s eyes concerned him as he pushed hair back from her face.
“If you’re too tired, then we can have this conversation after you’ve rested. It can wait,” Ronan offered.
“It can’t. It’s nearly Christmas, and you must go to Skye.”
“There’s still close to a fortnight. That’s plenty of time, Abby,” Ronan reassured.
“Not to have the banns read before you go,” Abigail whispered.
“Banns?” Ronan swallowed.
“Aye. A Christmas wedding?” Abigail whispered, and Ronan saw the hopefulness in her eyes.
“Aye, aught for you.” Without considering their audience, they leaned into one another and shared the most tender kiss they’d ever had.
“Get yer bluidy tongue away from ma wee baby sister’s mouth,” Kieran roared. Ronan tried to push Abigail behind him, but she swatted at him. She noticed Maude was still grinning, and she shot her sister-by-marriage a pursed lip and exasperated glare.
“Kieran, cease. We both ken there is no reason I can’t kiss the mon I’m marrying,” Abigail announced. She intended to get all the shock and arguing done with as soon as possible.
“Ye’re nae marrying a MacKinnon,” Kieran crossed his arms and shook his head.
“I am,” Abigail countered. “You ken that’s why you invited us in here. Laird MacKinnon—Ronan—and I met at court, and he asked my permission to court me. He didn’t want to begin until he could write to you, but there was no time to send a messenger ahead of us before we both planned to leave Stirling.” Abigail left Ronan’s side with a placating pat on his arm. She walked to stand before Kieran, but she looked at Maude. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and they’ve hurt a lot of people. I thought I’d become a better person by the time I arrived at court, but for reasons I won’t share, I misjudged Ronan. I nearly missed my opportunity to find a mon who cares aboot me, flaws and all. Someone who is patient and helps me to be a better person while accepting me for who I am at this point. I can’t explain how we understand one another’s thoughts, but we do. It became more obvious over the past fortnight of travel. Kieran, I think I can have with Ronan what you have with Maude. That thought never even entered my mind the last time. But now I can see it’s within reach.”
Maude stepped beside Abigail and whispered, “Ye love him, dinna ye?” Abigail turned her head to look at Maude, and she found such kindness that her heart once more ached for how she’d treated Maude when she first arrived.
“I believe I do,” Abigail responded. Maude nodded her head and took Abigail’s hands.
“Ye need to forgive yerself. I did a long time ago, Abigail. Ye are different, and anyone who kens ye can tell.” Maude looked at Kieran, a pointed expression on her face. Kieran gazed at the woman who stood before him. He remembered her as a sweet child, always excited to see him. Then she’d grown into a spoiled and uncharitable young woman. But she was changed once again. He recognized much of the sweetness that had once been part of Abigail had returned. He saw conviction where there had once been frivolity. He noticed self-assurance that was once pridefulness. When he shifted his gaze to Ronan, he recognized the concern, protectiveness, and even desire that he was certain were in his own eyes any time he spied Maude.
“Go stand with him, if ye must,” Kieran grumbled. Abigail didn’t hesitate to hurry back to Ronan’s side. Ronan wrapped his arm around Abigail’s shoulders, raising his chin in challenge. Kieran frowned but nodded his head. “We’d better settle the contracts if the priest’s posting the banns tomorrow.”
The two couples spent the rest of the afternoon shut away in Kieran’s solar. By the evening meal, both women were confident that the two lairds wouldn’t tear one another apart. They’d drafted the betrothal contract, and Abigail, Ronan, and Kieran signed. The portion Kieran allotted for Abigail’s dowry pleased Ronan. The amount surprised him after hearing about Abigail’s last dowry. Ronan hadn’t expected the land in Assynt or the gold that would come with Abigail. He’d assumed Kieran would be too wary to offer so much, or that there hadn’t been such a generous amount left after settling with the Chisholms.
Kieran introduced Ronan to the clan during the meal, and there were several stunned expressions since it was no secret that the other branch of the MacLeods were not on friendly terms with the MacKinnons. But it took only the space of one meal for people to whisper about how enamored the couple was with one another. Maude didn’t know where to look when she suggested a chamber on the guest floor above the family’s chambers. Abigail giggled knowing that Maude couldn’t meet their eyes since she was attempting not to laugh herself. Once she ceased laughing, Abigail assured Maude that a separate chamber was an appropriate offer. Ronan could only stand and watch the women in silence. They appeared much like sisters, and he hoped that Abigail would realize Maude cared for her despite their rocky past.
Twelve
Abigail understood why Maude offered Ronan the chamber she did. It was above hers, and no one would hear them moving around. With no one else staying on the guest floor besides Ronan, there was no one to notice how long it took them to say goodnight. Abigail followed Ronan into the chamber and pressed the door shut behind her. She waited by the door, uncertain what Ronan would want. They’d grown close during their journey, and their desire certainly hadn’t abated, but Abigail didn’t want to make any assumptions.
Ronan turned back to find Abigail waiting by the door. He worried that she was uncomfortable being in a bedchamber with him, but the way she raked her eyes over him made his cock harden. He stepped before her and rested his hands on her waist before pulling her toward him. Their mouths crashed together as they clawed at one another. It had been more than a fortnight since their tryst in the library and the copse of trees, and they’d left both with unspent lust coursing through them both.
“Ronan, I’ve missed touching you. I want to feel every inch of you,” Abigail mumbled between kisses. “I want you.”
“Christ’s bones, Abigail. I don’t ken that I can last long enough to do more than look at you,” Ronan confessed, a touch of his brogue flavoring his speech.
“Then don’t,” Abigail dropped to her knees and pushed Ronan’s plaid out of the way before taking Ronan’s cock in her hand. She stroked him before licking his rod, making the heated skin slick. Her hand glided up and down as her tongue swirled around the tip of his cock.
“Abigail.” Her name came out on a strangled groan as she slipped the head of his cock into her mouth.
“You must ken a woman can pleasure a mon like this.” The intimacy of their conversation brought out the hints of Abigail’s brogue.
“Just because I haven’t done it doesn’t mean I don’t ken what a mon and woman can do. But you don’t have to do this,” Ronan choked as Abigail slid her mouth down his shaft.
