“Can’t say I disagree with you,” Lachlan casually replied. “I haven’t slept a wink since she arrived. But she’s gone now, and that’s all that matters.”
He turned and headed back toward the hall, his expression laden with concern.
Chapter Twenty-four
That night, Angus knocked gently on Gwendolen’s door and entered. A warm fire was blazing in the hearth, and the bedclothes were tousled and strewn, as if she had just awakened from a nap. Her eyes were red and puffy.
“You are mourning the death of your brother,” he said.
“Aye.” She moved to the table by the fire and offered him some grapes. He reached out and tore off a bunch, then strolled about the room eating them, while she poured him a goblet of wine and held it out.
He accepted the glass, swirled it around, and raised it to his lips. It was a superb wine—full-bodied with a spicy mix of flavors. He tasted cinnamon and cherry. “This is very good. You’re not having any?”
She blew her nose into a handkerchief and shook her head. “I’m drinking ginger tea now. Mother said wine makes the morning sickness worse. Besides, that bottle is for you, especially.”
He looked down at it again. “Why?”
“Because it was your father’s. According to one of his servants, he said it was the best wine he ever tasted, and I thought this was a special occasion. We haven’t yet celebrated the fact that I am with child.”
Angus was pleased to commemorate such a happy event, even though he hated that he knew nothing of this wine his father had cherished. He believed his heart would always ache for the rift that had existed between them, for it would never be closed.
Gwendolen strolled to the window and looked out at the sunset. “When my father took Kinloch from yours,” she said, “he kept that bottle for a long time as a trophy. He intended to drink it when Murdoch returned, but in light of recent events…” She paused, then faced him. “You should have it and enjoy it. Kinloch is yours. There is no longer anyone who would dare to dispute your rule here. And now the trophy is our first child together.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, so he approached and wiped it away. “It’s never an easy thing to bury a brother,” he said.
“Perhaps that’s the worst part,” she replied. “I didn’t get to bury him. I never even had the opportunity to say good-bye.”
Angus held her face in his hands. “I understand your grief. I lost my father in much the same way.” He gave her a moment, then laid a hand on her shoulder. “No one can ever replace Murdoch or your father,” he whispered, “but I’ll do whatever it takes to protect you and our future children. I’ll be a good husband. I promise. You won’t ever be alone.”
Splashes of coral light from the horizon illuminated her face in the window. “All I want to do now is live here in peace,” she said. “I want to put all this death and conflict behind us. Raonaid is gone, and I am glad. And though I grieve for my brother’s death, I still feel joy in my heart, for I cling to the hope that we will be happy together. There is much to look forward to.” She laid a hand on her belly. “I am going to give birth to your child.”
Angus could barely think through the shifting fog of his emotions.God,but she was exquisite, and she washis.Never in his life had he felt such desire and affection for another human being. He would do anything for her. He would walk through the fires of hell. He would sacrifice everything he owned, everything that he was.
He was not sorry for expelling Raonaid from Kinloch. It was the right thing to do.
“To your brother and your father,” he said, raising the goblet of wine and taking a deep, hearty swig. “Both brave and worthy Scotsmen.”
After setting the goblet down, he softly touched his lips to hers. She curled into his embrace and clung to him with sweet, overflowing fondness.
“Come to bed,” she pleaded. “Make love to me. I want to feel you inside of me.”
He drew back slightly. “Are you sure, lass? You lost your brother today. If you would prefer that I just lie with you and hold you…”
He would do anything.
She shook her head and proceeded to remove his weapons. “No, I want to make love. I want to feel alive and grateful for all the wonderful gifts that are still mine.” She pulled his pistol out of his belt and set it on the window seat, then slowly unbuckled his sword belt and laid the heavy weaponry there as well. Next, she slid his tartan off his shoulder, unraveled his kilt and tossed it aside. He pulled his shirt off over his head.
As he stood naked before her in the golden twilight, his heart pounded in his ears and his body quickened with a desire that was both tender and demanding. All he wanted to do was ease her woes, assure her that she was loved and adored, and that as long as he lived, he would stand between her and harm’s way. He would make her happy somehow. He would comfort her and satisfy her.
Yes. She was loved.
He loved her.
He inhaled sharply at the realization as she stepped forward into his arms. He buried his face in her neck, unable to get close enough. All he wanted to do was hold her like this forever. And when forever drew to a close, because of her, heaven might just be possible.
She led him to the bed and removed all her clothes while he stood and watched, assisting her when assistance was required. Together, they slid beneath the covers.
Her nipples hardened instantly under his touch, and she moaned softly as he took her breast into his mouth and pleasured her with careful, hungry caresses. She wrapped her legs around his hips and writhed beneath him, and their bodies moved together in perfect sensual accord.
