"Oh, Father, please don't do that. I don't want the Buchanans to get into trouble with the Church."
Brodick heard every word of the exchange and was highly amused by the priest's fervent speech. Leaning toward Ramsey, he asked, "Where is it?"
His friend understood what he wanted to know and in a low whisper answered him.
Gillian's wrath was now directed at Dylan. Poking him in the chest, she demanded, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"You didn't ask me, Lady Buchanan."
"I'm not your Lady Buchanan," she cried out, so rattled her words tripped over each other.
"Don't you want to belong to us, milady?" Robert asked.
"I don't want to belong to anyone."
"Then why did you marry our laird?" Liam asked.
"I didn't know I was marrying him."
"We knew," Aaron cheerfully announced. "We want to keep you, milady," Stephen interjected. "You love our laird. We all heard you say so."
"Aye, we heard you," Robert agreed. "And you belong to us, milady."
Perhaps it was because they were all pressing in on her looking so earnest and worried that she couldn't hold on to her anger any longer. She did love Brodick, and she did want to be married to him. Now and forever. Dear God, they'd all made her daft.
Father Laggan sagged onto the bench and braced one hand on his knee. "You'd best bolt your door tonight," he suggested. "Do you understand what I'm telling you? You've got to stay away from him."
"Gillian?"
"Yes, Brodick?"
"I want a word in private with you. Now."
She wasn't given time to think about it. Clasping her hand, he marched out of the hall dragging her along with him.
As soon as the doors closed behind them, a resounding cheer went up. Bridgid was thoroughly perplexed. What in heaven's name was there to cheer about?
Father Laggan had also watched the couple leave. Shaking his head he cried out, "Didn't the lass hear a word I said? Good Lord Almighty."
Ramsey suggested a toast then. Bridgid thought he was crazy. Hadn't he been listening to the conversation? "Laird, I believe you should wait until Laird Brodick and Gillian come back before you give a toast. As to that, why would you toast them? Didn't you hear what Father Laggan said? Tomorrow he's going to… Why are you smiling?"
"Ah, Bridgid, I forgot how innocent and naive you are," Ramsey said.
"I'm not so naive."
"Are you waiting for Gillian to come back?" When she nodded, he laughed. "But you're not naive?"
"No, I'm not," she insisted.
"Then you understand."
"Understand what?"
He laughed again. "They aren't coming back."
The priest continued to shake his head. "Good Lord Almighty. He's got her now."
Chapter Twenty-Four
He swept her off her feet and carried her into the night. She put her arms around his neck and patiently waited for him to tell her where he was taking her. In truth, she had already come to terms with the inevitable. She loved this man with all her heart, and at the moment that was all that mattered.
She traced a line down the side of his face with her fingertip to get his attention. "Brodick?"
"You will not argue with me," he commanded. "You're sleeping with me tonight and every night for the rest of our lives. Understand me?"
She didn't protest or scream, which surprised him.
A moment passed in silence and then she said, "I have just one question for you."
He warily glanced down at her. "What is it?"
"What am I going to tell our children?"
He came to an abrupt stop. "What?"
"You heard me. What am I going to tell our children? I refuse to tell them I married their father while I was riding a horse, but then you'll probably expect me to give birth on a horse too, won't you?"
His eyes were filled with tenderness when he replied to her outrageous question. "I think we should concentrate on making my son before we worry about what we're going to tell him."
She kissed the side of his neck. "Then I'm in trouble."
"Why? "he asked.
"I can't concentrate when I'm around you, but I'll do my best."
He laughed. "That's all a man could want."
"You aren't always going to get your way."
"Sure I am."
"Marriage is about compromise."
"No, it isn't."
She bit his earlobe. "Nothing's changed, you know. I'm still going back to England to finish what I've started."
"Everything's changed, sweetheart…"
Following Ramsey's directions, Brodick veered off the main path and continued down the hill. A gray stone cottage sat at the bottom isolated from the other homes and surrounded by thick, towering pines. He flung the door open and carried his bride inside. Then he kicked the door shut, leaned back against it, and let out a sigh of male satisfaction.
The cottage was warm and cozy and smelled faintly of freshly cut wood. A fire crackled in the hearth and gave an amber glow to the room. The mantel was covered with candles, and after putting Gillian down, Brodick went to light them. She stood by the door and watched, suddenly feeling shy and nervous, her attention fully centered on the plaid-covered bed adjacent to the hearth. The cottage had seemed quite roomy until Brodick began to move around. He took up a good deal of the space, and the bed seemed to take up the rest.
Gillian saw her satchel on the floor next to the little table in the corner of the room. She thought she should probably get her sleeping gown out, but then how could she possibly change her clothes with Brodick just a few feet away and no privacy screen to separate them?
She couldn't do it. The walls seemed to be closing in on her. She backed up until she was pressed against the door. Then she reached behind her for the door latch. Calm down, she told herself, as she began to take rapid breaths. She was suddenly having difficulty drawing in enough air, and she couldn't understand why. The faster she inhaled, the less air she got.
Brodick took one look at her and knew she was in a panic. He blamed himself, for he had allowed her time to think, and that was his mistake. He went to her, tilted her head up so she could look at him, and then gently pried her hand away from the door. Her panting escalated until she sounded like a trumpeter.
"Having a little trouble, are you, sweetheart?"
The amusement in his tone irritated her. "I cannot breathe," she gasped. "You could show a little sympathy."
He laughed right in her face. Astounded by his callous attitude, she stopped panicking. "Does my fear amuse you, Brodick?"
"Yes, but you love me anyway, don't you?"
His hands moved to her waist, and he pulled her forward as his mouth settled possessively on top of hers. She was tense against him, almost rigid, but he wasn't in any hurry, and after lazily exploring her mouth for long minutes without rushing or making any other demands, he felt her relax in his arms.
He wanted to woo her with sweet, loving words so that she would know how much she meant to him, but he didn't know what to say because he was unschooled in the gentle ways of seduction. He was a warrior, a savage and a heathen, just as Father Laggan had said, and for the first time in his life, he wished that he knew the poetic jargon that came so easily to Ramsey.
He was making a sacrifice for her. Going slowly was a first for him, but important and necessary because she was a virgin and he knew she had to be scared of the unknown.
He was driving her crazy with his gentle caresses and his sweet kisses. Tearing her mouth away from his, she demanded that he stop teasing her. She pulled on his hair and sought his mouth again and was richly rewarded for her impatience. With a low growl mingled with laughter, he gave her what she wanted. He kissed her hungrily and deeply, his tongue stroking and coaxing, and she began to tingle everywhere. Her heart pounded, her stomach fluttered, and she was suddenly gripping his shoulders so that she wouldn't fall down.