Page 55 of Reviving Her Highland Spirit

The chatter and laughter faded behind them. Hand in hand, Maggie and Callum made their way down mercifully cool and quiet hallways. Despite the bitter cold outside, the feasting room was red-hot - clammy with bodies shoved in together, and stoked to a searing heat by the fire roaring in the grate.

Since their actual marriage ceremony, Maggie and Callum had barely had the chance to look at each other. Everyone wanted to congratulate the happy couple, to give gifts, blessings, and unwanted advice. Even when they sat at the feasting table, they were so busy eating there was no time to talk. Maggie didn’t dare leave a single dish unsampled, not when her aunt and uncle had spent so much time and expense on creating a delicious feast specially for her wedding.

Married, Maggie thought wildly. I’m married.

She wouldn’t be sleeping in the children’s wing anymore. Like lairds and ladies were supposed to, she and Callum would have a pair of rooms together, back to back. Proper married couples didn’t share a bed if they were nobles. Well, they weren’t supposed to. Maggie knew fine well that her parents shared a bed, and so did Uncle James and Aunt Lyla. However, they were given two rooms for the looks of things, and Maggie had no objection to getting a second room.

“This is us,” she said, smiling up at Callum with a sudden flash of nerves. She turned the key in a heavy wooden door, and pushed it open.

The room beyond was warm, cozy, and plush beyond Maggie’s wildest dreams. The bed was a huge four-poster, laden with quilts and furs. The fire was stoked up well, filling the room with heat. There was a bottle of wine and some cold meat set out on the table, with some sweetmeats and fruit.

In short, it was the perfect room for a newly married couple. There were rugs and furs on the floor, keeping out the chill of the cold stone.

“This is so much better than my childhood bedroom,” Maggie murmured.

Behind her, she heard the door close, and turned to see Callum turning the key in the lock and leaning against it, a grin on his face.

“Well, Mistress Irvine… can I call you Mistress Irvine?”

“You cannot.”

“Maggie, then?”

“Maggie will do.”

“Can I trouble you for a kiss, Maggie?”

“You may,” Maggie murmured, walking across the floor to him. She draped her arms around Callum’s neck, and his hands slipped around her waist, pulling her close. He leaned down to kiss her, and Maggie tilted up her face.

This time, there was no need to break their kiss or move apart. Maggie and Callum held each other close, pausing only for breath, or to look at each other in wondering giggles. They moved quite naturally from the door to the bed, with Callum lifting Maggie easily into his arms.

The room wasn’t quite warm enough to risk lying on top of the covers, so the couple shed their annoying layers of clothes which were suddenly getting in the way, and snuggled under the quilts and furs, reaching out for each other in the hot, sweaty dark.

“I love ye, Maggie,” Callum gasped, face pressed into the side of Maggie’s neck.

Maggie, who was coming down from a high she hadn’t known it was possible to reach, pulled him closer still, winding her fingers in his disheveled hair. She grinned to herself, pressing a kiss to Callum’s temple.

“Don’t worry, Callum,” she murmured. “The feeling is definitely mutual.”

And then, after a pause, she continued, “I suppose we’ll not be going out horse-riding at dawn tomorrow.”

Callum stifled a laugh. “No, Maggie, we will not.”

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