Page 59 of The Return of the Heir

“How can anyone not hear them is more the question.”

She frowned. “Does it not concern you?”

“I knew this moment would come. I expected it last night.” He shrugged one shoulder. “That the lot of them allowed me last night with you, I will be forever grateful for.”

Gwendolyn felt heat rise to her cheeks at the memory of all they had done last night, of what they now were to each other.

He bent down and kissed her as he slid his hand beneath the covers and found her breast. “You were every bit as delightful last night as I always dreamed you would be.”

“You dreamed about us?” She sucked in a breath as his fingers grazed her nipple.

“Aye. I admit you were never far from my thoughts.”

“MacLeod!” Alexander MacDonald’s voice came from right outside the door. They had found him.

His hand left her, and his smile slipped. “I want more than anything to stay and show you what a splendid thing lovemaking in the morning can be, but duty calls.” He sat up fully.

“Step back, sir. Give the laird his privacy. He’ll be with ye shortly.” Becks’s voice was as strong and demanding as any laird’s. A moment later, footsteps sounded in the hallway, fading into the distance.

A knock came upon the door. “M’laird, I have the chest ye requested. May I enter?”

Alastair pulled the bedsheets up over Gwendolyn’s body. “You may enter.”

Becks opened the door, then carried a large wooden chest into the chamber, setting it before the hearth. He kept his eyes averted. “Breakfast is waitin’ belowstairs as are several of the lairds. They’re in high spirits this mornin’.”

“After the events of last night, no doubt. Thank you for hindering their pursuit of me so far.”

Becks bowed and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Alastair stood and pulled his shirt over his head before quickly refolding his tartan and belting it about him.

“What’s in the chest?” Gwendolyn asked.

“It is the bride price you were given for our betrothal.” He angled his head towards the chest while he slipped on his boots. “Go ahead. Have a look.”

Gwendolyn slipped her nightrail over her head before she moved from the bed to the chest. She opened the latch and lifted the lid to reveal what must have been over twenty lengths of richly hued fabrics in silk, brocades, damask, wool, and linen.

He finished with his boots and came to join her. “My father gifted these to you so that you could have dresses made that were befitting of your station as a laird’s wife.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “I’ve sent for a dressmaker to come to the castle today. I’d like to see you wear something that isn’t my baby sister’s cast-off.”

Gwendolyn didn’t know what to say as she ran her fingers over the lush fabrics inside the chest. The gift was overwhelmingly generous, and that it had been considered so long ago, especially by a man who wasn’t known for his little kindnesses, surprised her. “Was your mother behind this?”

“My mother was long-dead by the time we were betrothed, but perhaps her ghost had a hand in making my father see to the matter.”

Gwendolyn stood. “About Rowena. You know she is no longer your ‘baby sister.’ She is a woman fully grown, and she knows her own mind and her own heart.”

He smiled. “I can only agree.”

“Will you meet with Rowena and Marcus today and help them come to an arrangement?”

His expression turned grim. “As soon as I leave this chamber, I will be trying to stop a war. That has to take precedence over my sister’s needs, I fear.”

She touched his arm. “You are going to war with the MacDonalds?”

“I do not see a way around it.”

She swallowed. “Then I am glad I retrieved the Fairy Flag. It will bring you good luck and can be used to help win the day if things turn for the worst.”

“Alastair. The screeching lairds belowstairs are dissolving into chaos,” Graeme called from behind the door. “I would make haste.”

Alastair reached down and lifted the wooden box containing the Fairy Flag into his hands. “I accept the luck this flag brings to my family, but I will not be the laird who uses its magic to turn the tide of this war with the MacDonalds. There are much bigger conflicts ahead for Scotland, and that is when we will need the magic to spur us to victory.” Alastair’s arms closed around her, holding her tightly, molding his body into hers while he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “The MacDonalds will not succeed. It is time for me as clan leader to take a stand against them. Every person in this castle and in the adjoining village is under my care. I shall rise to this challenge and be the man I am destined to become as heir of the MacLeods.” Reluctantly, he released her and stepped back and made his way to the door.

He was nearly out the door when she called after him. “Have a care that you are not hurt.”

He stopped and turned back, grinning. “It’s been a long time since someone cared about my well-being.” His dark eyes seemed to devour her where she stood. “There is not a man more blessed in Christendom than I am. What we shared last night will carry me through the conflict ahead.”

“Godspeed.”

“And may he and the army I leave behind here at Dunvegan keep you safe while I am gone.” He opened the door and walked through, greeting Graeme, whose dire look brought a twist of fear to her stomach.

Gwendolyn stared after them as they disappeared down the stairs. It wasn’t until she heard the shouting from the great hall that she returned to her bed and sank down upon it. Her hand crept up to her lips—lips he had so recently kissed—as she wondered if he would ever kiss her again.

War made many a widow. She had retrieved the Fairy Flag and returned it to Alastair. She closed her eyes and willed whatever fairy magic the artifact possessed to keep those she loved from harm. At the thought she trembled as the revelation came over her. There was no other word to describe how she felt. She loved Alastair MacLeod.

Last night, she and Alastair had shared something beautiful, something excruciatingly intimate. He’d made himself vulnerable to her and given her his trust, repairing any damage Garrick had inflicted upon them, and any damage they had done to each other.

She’d finally been gifted with everything she’d ever wanted, and now the man she loved was headed off to war.