Conal plunged over and over again into her liquefied heat. No matter how hard he worked himself he couldn’t find release at first. But then her small hands closed around his buttocks. Her nails dug deep into his flesh, and he felt his passions roaring up to overflow within her. He could not prevent the cry of pleasure that emanated forth from his mouth. A primitive howl that burst forth from his throat surprised him even as they met ecstasy together. And then they slept, entwined in each other’s embrace.
When the morning came and they prepared to go down to the hall, the laird of Cleit took his wife into his arms and kissed her a long, slow kiss. “You are a bad lass, Adair, but I do trust you,” he told her.
“And I’m sorry I did not tell you I was again with child. But you would have argued with me, Conal. You know you would have,” she said.
He laughed ruefully. “Aye, I would have,” headmitted.
“And then I would have had to ride off without you, and you would have come tearing after me,” she said.
“Aye,” he agreed again, “I would have.”
“So it really was better that I waited until we were here at Hailes to tell you,” she concluded.
“Aye, it was,” he said, laughing as he kissed her nose.
“Woman, you know me far too well, I fear.”
“Aye, I do,” Adair told him, and she kissed him back.
Then together they descended into the great hall, where they found the other guests already eating. As the day was clear and again without precipitation, the gentlemen hunted while the women remained indoors playing at cards. That evening, the last night of December, a great feast was held in the hall at Hailes, featuring a large boiled haggis. It was the one bit of the meal that Adair could not manage even to like. Nor, it seemed, could Janet Douglas Hepburn. Her dainty nose wrinkled with distaste. But the king and the other guests ate the slices of stuffed sheep’s stomach with great gusto.
There was dancing in the hall that night, with the men and the women doing reels and country rounds. Two pipers and several other musicians, playing drums, flute, and horn, played for them. The king, who had kept a polite distance from Adair until now, chose her as his partner in a reel. Adair had chosen to wear her violet gown this night. Her sable hair became undone in the vigorous dance, and her cheeks were flushed pink.
James Stewart could not resist. He managed to dance her into a corner with no one else the wiser in the merriment of the evening. “You are just too delicious, cousin!” he murmured, backing her against the wall and cupping one of her breasts. Then his mouth descended upon hers in a fiery kiss.
Adair tore her lips from his. “My lord!” She gasped, suddenly aware of the hand caressing her breast, and of how her nipple was tingling. “Cease this instant, you wicked lad! You offend me! Is not Mistress Lauder enough for you?”
“I cannot help myself,” the young king said and, taking her hand, placed it where his manhood was burgeoning. “I adore you, Adair!”
“While you insult me, I cannot help but be flattered by the attentions Your Highness showers me with.” She firmly removed his hand from her breast and hers from his groin. “But I am an honorable woman. I have a husband whom I love. And I am expecting a child come late summer. I want my husband to be Your Highness’s most loyal friend, but he is a jealous man. Granted, Conal Bruce is not important, but a king never knows when he might need an unimportant friend in the right place at the right time,” Adair said. Then she gently pushed him back and, taking his arm, discreetly insinuated them back into the general jocularity of the hall, where the dancing had just now ceased.
“You are a clever woman, cousin,” the king told her.
Adair smiled at him. “And you are going to be a wonderful king, Jamie Stewart,” she told him softly.
At midnight they banged pots, and the local church bell chimed the occasion.
They awoke to a cold, icy rain, and the earl and his guests kept to the indoors that first day of January. They exchanged gifts, and as the day wore on the men got to speaking of the months ahead, of how England must be stopped from causing any difficulties, and how Scotland’s new king must be accepted by the other rulers in Europe.
“You must send ambassadors out to the foreign courts.” Adair surprised the men by speaking up.
“Scotland has never done such a thing before,” James Douglas said.
“And does that mean they should not do it now, my lord?” Adair answered him.
“Why do we need representatives at foreign courts?”
Douglas persisted. “Scotland does well on its own, and we have the French alliance.”
“The French aid you in war, but in return they expect your aid in battle as well. But there are ways to settle matters other than war.”
“The old James was always going on about diplomacy,” grumbled Douglas. “ ’Tis a lot of nonsense.
Might is all that counts in this world, madam, but you would not understand, for you are a woman.”
“I was raised in a royal court, my lord,” Adair said icily. “Men, being foolish by nature, have a tendency to speak around women as if we cannot hear. I will wager I am far more educated than you are, and I know that it is important for Scotland, if it wishes to be taken seriously by the European powers, to have ambassadors.”
“Where would you send my ambassadors?” the king wanted to know.
