Page 192 of Claimed Highland Brides

EPILOGUE

She awoke slowly, a feeling of urgency struggling to get past the lethargy of early morning. Something was supposed to happen that day—something important. But all she could think about was how comfortable she was lying on her soft feather down mattress, a line of heat keeping her warm and making the blankets superfluous.

She tugged against the arm around her waist, holding her down and keeping her grounded, wanting to get up and use the privy. The arm tightened around her, and the man it belonged to made a low sound of protest.

She giggled, still half in disbelief that this was truly her life. “Barclay, I have to get up,” she whispered.

He murmured something dissenting into his pillow, and she laughed in amusement. “Was I supposed to hear that? Because ye are going to have to speak louder.”

“It’s too early for this.”

She laughed again even as he tightened his hold on her. There was a cold sensation against her neck as he flicked out his tongue and licked her. Giggling, she squirmed away from him, but he pulled her back at once.

“Seriously, Barclay, I mun’ use the privy.”

Slowly he loosened his hold. “Hurry back then.”

She did as he asked, not relishing the cold morning air on her skin when she could be warm and cozy in bed. Completing her ablutions, she ran across the room and dived under the covers, seeking his warm lips with her cold ones.

He shivered but still held her close, his hands traveling all over her body, mapping her with love.

“Mmm,” he murmured against her mouth, kissing her deeply as he rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his. His hands snaked between them, seeking the wet heat at her center before he positioned himself and thrust into her with an extended groan. She arched upward, urging him on as he lazily swiveled his hips, penetrating her as deeply as he could.

“Oh, ye’re so hot and wet for me,” he rasped against her neck as his movements got faster. “There’s nothing better than this.”

She reached up with her legs, scissoring them at his waist and holding him securely in place. She felt wanton and free, and more beautiful than any woman who had ever lived. With a smile, she arched her back, urging him deeper.

“I love ye so,” she said, filled with gratitude for his admiration that had opened her eyes and let her see her own worth. “Harder, my love. Faster.”

He nipped at her cheek. “Insatiable,” he said with affection, increasing his pace, his back undulating as his skin glistened with the sweat of effort.

He opened his mouth wide as he cried out, his body convulsing as he let go. At the touch of his seed, her insides constricted and contracted, her own orgasm taking her over seemingly out of nowhere. When they finished, he slid off of her, his arm still around her waist, breath heaving as he blinked at her with a smile.

“Will that hold ye?” he asked.

She turned to face him, suddenly remembering what day it was. “The trial is today.”

“Aye.”

They stared at each other, breathing in sync. “Are ye ready?” she asked.

He sat up in bed. “I am now.”

* * *

The trial was to be held in the great hall, and the whole village had turned out to watch. Several people had come forward to bear witness to Gilroy’s crimes, and to his surprise, Barclay recognized his parents’ former housekeeper amongst them. She looked old and was supported by two young men, but stood resolute, waiting her turn. Barclay stared at her, wondering what she might have to say.

He was first to bear witness and outlined Gilroy’s refusal to accept his birthright and the subsequent events.

“Mr. MacFarland, ye say that Mr. MacFarland, yer uncle, tried to have ye killed, but he wasnae at the cottage. What proof do ye have then, that it was him?” Gilroy’s solicitor asked.

Barclay gaped at him in shock. “He wrote us a note and told us to go there. The farmer said he’d been hired by Gilroy!”

“But ye didnae see him write the note or hire the farmer and so all ye have is hearsay, am I no’ correct?”

Barclay just gaped at him, looking around for help. “Who else could have done it?”

“Perhaps ye did it yersel’. After all, ye didnae get hurt. Only yer wife did. A wife ye were forced to marry in order to claim yer birthright. Perhaps ye meant to get rid of her.”