Again, the crowd cheered.
Jamie raised his hands. “Thank ye, all. In honor of my new wife, I command Crannog to open the storage rooms. Feast and drink until ye fall down.”
Jamie helped Helen dismount, and true to his word, carried her up the few steps leading to the main doors, through the luxurious great hall, and halfway up the spiraling stairs that led to the laird’s bedchamber.
“This side of the house only contains my bedchamber and solar. Unless asked to, no one climbs these stairs.”
The warning thrilled her, and he set her on her feet, pushed her against the cold, stone wall, untied her cloak, and forced open the bodice of her gown, exposing her breasts. He feasted on one nipple and lifted her skirts with his other hand. He cupped her womanhood, sliding two fingers inside her.
“Ye are wet for me, Helen.”
His lips found hers in a demanding kiss, and she fisted his hair in her hands. Then he broke their kiss and roughly spun her round, raising her skirts above her hips. A chill went up her body, but his body heat would provide all the comfort she needed.
“Aye, lass. Feel what ye do to me.” With one powerful thrust, he filled her.
Helen splayed her fingers on the stone wall, holding herself up. If she dinna, her legs were so wobbly, she’d fall down. With every hard pump of his hips, she moaned and writhed. It felt so good to be taken that way.
They peaked together, and she turned about, stood on her toes, and claimed his mouth, her tongue spiraling over his, letting him know she wanted more. “I want to see the laird’s bedchamber.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The next morn,she was introduced to many MacKays and servants, the cook, stable lads, and Jamie’s captains and soldiers. In all, sixty-five people lived within the main walls of the manor house. A hundred soldiers slept in four bunk houses built within the bailey and numerous crofters lived across their lands in their own cottages.
The cook, Dunmore MacDonald, gave Helen a tour of the buttery and other storage rooms, all well-stocked for the rest of the winter. It seemed she had married a man who not only knew how to wield a sword but also managed his household as well as any chatelaine.
There was a women’s solar in need of use, and with a good hand for weaving and sewing, Helen made it a priority to provide a comfortable place for all the women in her household to gather.
Later in the evening, while she sat at the high table with her husband, the crofters and their children came with gifts to honor their new laird. One bairn, no older than seven, approached the dais with a lamb curled around his neck, her legs dangling over his soldiers. He bowed awkwardly, then straightened.
“Welcome toSands Airgid,Lady Helen.”
“What is yer name?” she asked.
“Nab MacKay.”
“And who is yer pet?”
“She is a verra special ewe lamb, milady. A gift for ye.”
The tiny creature mewed and wiggled. Helen couldna resist; she went down to receive the sweet lamb herself. Nab placed the animal in Helen’s arms and smiled when she kissed its head.
“I will raise her to be my own,” she told Nab. “Would ye like to name her?”
The lad scratched his head. “There’s a tiny black star on her head. What if ye called her Star?”
“Star,” Helen repeated with a smile.
Jamie gestured for one of the lads to take the animal. “Thank ye, Nab.”
The boy bowed again and moved away so the next family could step forward to congratulate their laird.
Helen counted forty families, most with young children, some widowers and widows, and some orphans who the crofters looked after. There was much she could do to improve their lives, things she had begged her sire to do, like teaching the children to read and write. Educated children would grow into valuable workers for the MacKays. And Jamie had told her to do as she pleased when it came to running the household.
The meal was delicious, fish and clams, pickled vegetables, dried fruits, bread and butter, and mead, something Helen had never drunk before. It tasted sweet on her tongue, but once it reached her stomach, it warmed her likeuisge beatha, a type of spirits her brothers had given her on occasion to make her talk funny. But the water of life tasted terrible. She would gladly drink mead again.
After the meal was over, one of the women played the harp, filling the hall with the sweetest sounds. If this was a peek into Helen’s future, and if these people had truly accepted her as their lady, she would never be unhappy or lonely again. With Jamie as her husband, Miran as her companion, and Keely only a half-day ride away, she could endure anything. Even a life without her father and brothers.
By the time she and Jamie went abovestairs, made love, then curled up together to sleep, she was exhausted but sated, endlessly thankful to God and her husband. But very late that night, she was startled awake by a nightmare, or what she thought was one. Loud sounds drifted up to the bedchamber, and she reached for Jamie, to shake him awake, but he was gone.
