“Neither can I,” he replied, laughing softly. “A few months ago everything seemed so bleak, but the first time I saw you I knew that you were special. I did not know then how special.” He turned to her and took her hands. “Say it again. Say ‘I love you, Fraser,’” he begged.
“I love you Fraser,” she whispered, and lifted her lips for his kiss.
It was passionate, not so much a caress as an assault on her lips, but she did not mind. It was stimulating in its ferocity and she answered him with equal ardour. When they drew apart he smoothed back her fiery red hair from her face. As she began to shiver, he put his arms around her as he had done with Abi.
“We should be in bed, keeping each other warm,” he said, his voice soft and suggestive.
She laughed. “Aye! An’ ye knaw what will happen then!”
“Would it be so bad?” he pleaded. “We are going to be married, after all.”
She shook her head and smiled. “‘Tis no’ gaunnae happen M’Laird.”
“You are a wicked, frustrating woman!” he said. “And you hold such power over me. I adore you.”
Despite her best intentions, she let him take her to his bedroom where they lay on his big bed.
“I need you,” he whispered, “but we will leave something for our wedding night, I promise. Do you trust me?”
“With my life,” she whispered.
She felt his shaft rubbing against the slick wetness of her secret place, faster and faster, every wave building till a tide of bliss broke over her and she cried out, amazed that he could make her body do this magical thing. Fraser moaned aloud as he too reached his climax and lay, shuddering for a while till he opened his eyes and looked straight into hers.
“How long?” he asked, laughing.
“Two weeks?” she suggested.
“Can we not make it tomorrow?” he pleaded.
“I havenae any nice dresses!” she protested.
“I do not mind you going down the aisle naked,” he said reasonably.
“But I dae!” she replied, laughing. She stood up to dress and he watched her every graceful move.
“I am going to die of love,” he sighed, trying to catch hold of her again. She dodged neatly out of his way.
“Aye? Well let me know when so I can get a black dress,” she replied dryly, and kissed him. He was still laughing as she walked out of the room.
15
It had been a while since Fraser had the father of a young lady drop by with a daughter to introduce to him. After the mourning period for Ishbel was over they had come in their droves, but it had been a few years since any of them had bothered him, and now he had thought himself too old for their attention.
Therefore, when Laird Hector McKechnie had asked for an appointment to see him, he saw no reason to refuse him. They had been acquaintances, if not exactly friends for years, bought animals from each other from time to time, gone to markets together, and watched each other’s children growing up.
Laird McKechnie was a tall man in his early forties with receding gray hair and a closely shaven beard who greeted Fraser with a beaming smile. With him was his lovely daughter Seonid*, whom he had watched growing up since she was a toddler. Now she was a beautiful young woman of eighteen whose dark good looks had set many a man’s heart beating faster ever since she was thirteen. Today she looked pale and nervous, however, Fraser bowed over her hand and kissed it, smiling at her.
“Seonid!” Fraser marveled. “How you have grown up since the last time I saw you. You look perfectly lovely.”
“Thank you, M’Laird,” she replied, curtseying and blushing shyly. She looked as though she wanted to be anywhere else but there, and as if she would burst into tears at any moment.
Fraser poured them both a glass of ale, and they sat down to talk about trivialities for a while, or “laird-talk” as Abi put it. Fraser asked, “So, Hector, what did you want to see me about?” He leaned forward expectantly, elbows on his knees, and looked at the other laird, who cleared his throat nervously.
“I would like a husband for Seonid,” he said quickly, as though he could not get the words out fast enough. “I know you to be a good man, and Seonid will make you a very good wife. She is dutiful, obedient, kind, and beautiful. I can give you a substantial dowry too.”
“I do not care about dowries and such,” Fraser said sadly. “But Hector, I am already betrothed. I am so sorry. Had you come a few weeks ago things may have been different and we could have come to an accommodation, but now it is too late.”
Hector flushed red, looking rather annoyed, but Seonid looked much brighter all of a sudden, and Fraser had the feeling that this had been the outcome she had desired.
