Page 15 of Highlander’s Wild Lass (Wild McLeans #1)

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T he great hall was filled to the brim with clansmen and women. Many of them rushed toward the head table to wish a life filled with good health and many children, some even slapped down their shiniest shilling as a gift.

Mrs. Duncan had truly outdone herself, Celestia thought. There was roast beef, pig, and an array of other meats that she had not had the chance to eat yet. The vegetables and fruit were aplenty, how she managed to get this much fruit in the middle of spring was a mystery.

And the liquor flowed—there was ale, whisky, wine, and even rum.

There had been many toasts. One given by Sebastian, one by her father, and then finally by Anthony himself. All filled with well wishes and kind words, but with every toast came a new drink and Celestia was feeling rather light-headed and, she had to admit, happy.

The torches had been lit come sundown and some of the guests had found their way home. Of course, Anthony’s extended family stayed, drinking, singing, and dancing, as did Celestia’s.

Anthony stood once more from where they sat, and the music halted. He raised his glass, filled with wine. “Now that some of the guests have gone home—”

Celestia heard boos coming from one of the tables. She wasn’t surprised when her eyes found uncles Charlie and Ian.

“—I wanted to take this moment to tell everyone that helped this day happen a very gracious thank ye. And I, along with my new wife,” he said, glancing down at Celestia with an easy grin, “would like all of ye to quit servin’ for the night and join us in the celebration!”

Her heart skipped a beat when he called her his wife, but she didn’t have a moment to ponder it because he was whisking her away to dance.

It almost felt like she was experiencing her wedding from a distance, like she was watching from just above herself, taking it all in. They had recited their vows; he had slipped a ring worth more than anything she owned on her finger; they were handfasted and kissed before their families and before the clan.

She hadn’t realized she was waiting for the kiss, but she found herself parting her mouth to allow him in. There was a hoot from near the front of the kirk, probably an uncle.

And then the feast had gone by in a rush and Celestia had danced more than she ever had in her entire life. With Anthony, with her brothers, his uncles, even a slow one with her father whose wheezing breath she could hear the entire time.

With some of the guests gone, the hall felt more intimate with some of the servants she had come to know over the last week in the castle and Mrs. Duncan mothering her about just like she used to when she and Anthony were children.

She found that she did miss their home and the quiet it provided, but she had found herself enjoying castle life and exploring every inch of it with her sister and brothers.

Celestia looked at Anthony, her new husband. It would take time to get used to saying the word, but she did feel happy that they had decided to marry. Yes, nerves coursed through her while she was getting ready, but once she saw him in the courtyard, she felt steady. Anthony was the one that had been shaking the entire way to the kirk.

She smiled, noticing his cheeks were a bit rosy due to an unending amount of drink. There was a friendship between them, somewhat there in childhood if she hadn’t wanted to beat him senseless for all his teasing, but there indeed. Celestia had felt the bond grow over the weeks he pestered her to marry him despite how many times they argued.

She wondered if it would eventually, years down the road, turn into love. She knew she could love him; she was familiar with the heat that rushed through her at the sight of him and when he touched her, but surely that was only desire and longing.

“Enjoyin’ yerself?” he asked, one hand clasped on her back, and another held her hand as he led her around the hall with the others that were dancing. It wasn’t a very fast-paced dance, more a moderate tempo where she didn’t have to think of the steps.

“I am, actually.”

He quirked a brow. “Did ye think ye were nae goin’ to?”

Celestia bit her cheek. “I dinnae really ken what to expect, really.”

The music came to an end and the string quartet that had been hired for the occasion began to play the cords of a high-energy jig. Celestia recognized the tune at once.

“This is one of Auralia’s favorites,” she said, looking around the hall for her sister. She found her sitting beside her father who was tapping his cane along to the beat with a wine glass in his other hand.

Together they made their way to Auralia and Brannan.

“This is my favorite song,” Auralia said, tapping her feet along to the beginning notes.

“I’ve heard,” Anthony said with a wink. “Care for a dance?”

Auralia’s eyes widened and before even thinking to ask Celestia permission—not that she needed to—she took hold of Anthony’s hand, and off they went.

Celestia took a seat beside her father, making sure her skirts didn’t overtake him. “Ye look happy, Da.”

“Oh, I am blessedly happy,” he said, handing off his glass to her. He began digging in his waistcoat pockets. “I meant to give this to ye before the ceremony, but I completely forgot about it till afterwards.”

Celestia watched him dig in his left pocket, then his right, and finally find whatever it was in the inconspicuous inside pocket of his brown frock coat.

“Here,” Brannan said, pulling out a short string of pearls. “They were—”

“Ma’s?”

Brannan nodded.

Celestia fixed her eyes, unmoving, on the strand of pearls. She slowly took them into her hands. “I cannae believe ye have them. I thought ye buried her with them.”

“Nay, I couldnae part with somethin’ like this,” he said, taking the pearls back from her and unclasping them. “They’re yers now, and yers to pass down to yer first-born daughter.”

Celestia turned her back to her father so he could loop the necklace around her easily. He patted the clasp once it was secure and she turned back to thank him, fingering the round, uneven pearls. They barely hung more than an inch from her neck, almost a choker. She remembered always admiring them on her mother when she was a child.

She felt overcome with emotion, her eyes filled with tears, missing her mother more today than any day in the last handful of years.

“Dinnae cry, Cellie. Today is a happy day and she would be thrilled to see ye married her best friend’s son.”

Celestia held her breath, hoping that lack of air would stop her tears from falling, and nodded.

“Oh, those look wonderful on ye, dearie!” Helena, the castle healer said as she took a seat on the other side of her father. “Yer dear da said he was goin’ to give those to ye.”

“She does look bonnie in them, just like her maither,” Brannan said to Helena, glancing at her with a smile.

Helena was a welcome distraction from the emotion Celestia was feeling. She went on and on to describe to Celestia how she enjoyed her daily visits with Brannan. He made her laugh and Helena, who was about five years younger than her father and strong for her age, forced him to get out of bed and move.

Celestia would often stumble into them in the gardens or near the stables, and her father...well, he didn’t look any healthier, but he did smile more and laugh more. And keeping her father happy while he suffered through his illness was all she could really hope for since all the healing in the world would not make him better.

Auralia and Anthony were back once the dance had ended. Auralia was red in the face and breathless. Anthony seemed to be just as out of breath as her sister when he sat beside her.

“I wasnae prepared for that dance at all,” he said only loud enough for her to hear. “Yer sister led the entire time.”

Celestia couldn’t hide the surprise on her face. It was a rare thing for her sister to come out of her shell, but to lead her new brother-in-law and the chief of their clan in a dance was something else entirely.

“I hope she led ye well.”

“Oh, she certainly did.”

Auralia had disappeared and reappeared soundlessly with three glasses of mead between her hands. She passed one to Celestia and Anthony.

“Thank ye, lass,” Anthony said, raising his glass in her direction before taking a long sip.

Auralia nearly emptied her entire glass before telling them she was off to find Chester and Hugo. She bounded toward the hallways, toward the staircase that would take her to the gallery that overlooked the great hall.

Celestia leaned into Anthony, reaching to whisper into his ear. “I dinnae think she will find my brothers up there.”

“Really?” Anthony wondered, looking into her eyes. “Where do ye think yer brothers are then?”

Celestia giggled—she knew it was the amount of mead she had tonight that caused her to giggle, for she never would have allowed herself such a childish moment. “I spotted—as did they—a pair of young cousins of yers.”

Celestia pulled away to see Anthony’s eyes widen.

“Ye dinne mean Lizzie and Roselyn?”

Celestia shrugged and drank deeply from her cup. “I havenae met all yer cousins yet, so I cannae be too sure. But they were bonnie and about the same age as Chester and Hugo.”

Anthony pulled a hand down his face. “Those will be my Uncle Charlie’s daughters.”

“Oh.”

“Well,” he said with a shrug. “As long as Charlie or their maither doesnae catch them, all will be well.”

“I’ve raised them nae to take advantage of young lasses,” Celestia told him. “They ken nae to do anythin’ too...” She fought to find the word, it was there on her tongue, but the mead had made it heavy.

“Wicked?”

Celestia nodded deeply. “Exactly.”

“Ye ken what I would like to do?” he said to her, leaning down to her ear so that only she would hear him.

Gooseflesh erupted where his hot breath touched. “What?” she murmured, gripping her glass tighter than before.

“Be wicked too.”

Celestia swallowed, freezing in her spot but a certain burning was coursing through her—though she was not sure if it was from drink or desire. She felt words catch in her mouth, unsure how to respond.

She answered with just a nod. He took her hand, bid her father goodnight, and they tore through the corridors to his chambers. They stood before the door, breathless from the stairs and the hurried pace they had climbed them.

Anthony’s chest rose and fell as he looked from the closed door in front of them to Celestia. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the slight sheen of sweat on her skin.

“Do ye—do ye need help openin’ the door?” she asked hesitantly, completely unsure why he had just suddenly stopped their pursuit to his chambers.

In one quick motion, Anthony swept her off her feet and carried her over the threshold to his bedroom. “Do I need help openin’ the door—yer funny, lass. I figured since I dinnae carry ye over the threshold of the front doors, I could do this.”

Celestia shot a puzzled look. “Is this another superstition?”

“Aye, lass, it’s to protect us from evil spirits and bring good luck,” Anthony said as he set her down.

Celestia smoothed out her gown, laughing. “I suppose we need all the good luck we can get.”

Anthony closed the door and went to pour them two cups of wine. Mrs. Duncan must have come up earlier in the night and filled the table full of food and drink.

He handed one to her. “What do ye mean?”

“My maid is rather superstitious. She told me we will rue the day because we were married in May.”

Anthony nodded his head, looking serious. “Yer maid isnae wrong in her belief although...I daenae truly believe it.

She shot him a skeptical look and took a long drink from her cup.

“I daenae!” he protested, taking a seat, and untying his white cotton stock tie. “But Queen Mary married in May, and we all ken how things ended for her.”

“Well, seein’ as I am nae a queen...and Elizabeth doesnae want my head, I daenae see the need to worry about this,” she said, stepping closer to him, wanting to refill her cup. The pace they had traveled through the corridor had shaken some of the drunkenness from her, and she was aware of what must take place now.

She placed the bottle back onto the table and took up her cup again, taking long, gulping drinks of her wine. Anthony gently took hold of her empty hand and pulled her onto his lap.

“Put yer drink down, lass,” he said, his voice dropping to an impossibly low rumble.

Celestia nearly spilled the entire thing, trembling as she was. Anthony steadied her hand and helped her set it down. He wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her steady, and with the other hand, he pulled her face to him.

He captured her in a hungry, searing kiss. The spark that happened between them weeks ago seemed to have turned into a raging fire, one that was stoked and enlivened every time Anthony glanced her way or touched her.

Anthony wrapped a hand around her neck, parted her lips, and deepened the kiss. He tried to pull her closer, but the bulk of her wedding gown was in the way.

“These damn skirts,” he murmured, letting his breath caress her neck. He stood, taking her along with him and placing her feet on the floor.

He held her at an arm’s length and swept his eyes from head to toe. “Ye looked perfect today,” he said, moving closer once more, pulling the sprigs of heather that had adorned her hair and resting them gently on the table.

Celestia turned red, she was sure she would melt at this rate. She tried to bring that same blind bravery she had that night in his study, wanting to touch him and pull her to him but felt too scared to move tonight.

“It’s alright, I’m yers now,” he said, bringing her hand to his chest.

Celestia nodded, stood on her tiptoes, and crashed her lips into his. He laughed breathily against her lips, steadying her. He let his hand wander down her back, pulling at the string of her stays, loosening them as they kissed.

She felt the bodice slacken around her shoulders and waist. Pulling out of the kiss, she slid the bodice down her arms and discarded it to the floor.

Anthony stepped around, his deft hands undoing the hooks that kept the skirts locked to her waist. The skirts fell from her, leaving Celestia in only her shift. A shiver trembled up her legs and into her chest without the warmth of the dress despite the roaring fireplace in the corner of the room.

“Now, ye,” she said, turning to face him. His eyes were hooded looking down at her, seeing the hunger and lust in him. She reached her hands up and unwrapped the stock tie, dropping it to the ground before shrugging off his thick velvet coat.

“Ye have more layers on than I did,” she murmured, looking at the buttons going down the length of his waistcoat and began unbuttoning.

Anthony laughed, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. “Not for long.”

Celestia almost laughed, making quick work of the buttons. She slid her hands over his chest, feeling the lean muscles just under his shirt, and peeled off his waistcoat.

He kissed her again, holding her head between his hands, pulling her up on her tiptoes while she fumbled for his belt buckle. His hands reached down, helping her.

The belt came loose and clattered to the floor. Anthony bunched his kilt in his hand and pulled it away from his, his shirt hanging low over his hips.

Celestia burned, and not just from being so close to the fireplace. Every single inch of her was awake with quivery awareness, she was restraining against his body’s every urge to allow him to take her.

God, she was nervous, trembling. She hated that. She inhaled, closing her eyes, trying to find courage.

His hands explored downward, gently skating along the length of her neck, and as he glided his fingers across her collarbone, she felt a fluttering sort of spasm within her. He hooked his fingers under the shoulders of her chemise and pulled it down over her breasts.

His mouth followed the path his hands had mapped out, taking one nipple into his mouth, and circling his tongue.

“Oh,” Celestia gasped. He was tampering with her sanity, with this slow teasing. She opened her eyes in time to see a smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth as he deliberately feathered the tips of his fingers down her exposed waist, snaking them behind her.

He swept her up into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist. “Let’s go to bed,” he said, carrying her over to the four-poster bed. His hand slid to the small of her back, supporting her as he lowered her to the mattress. Celestia felt breathless as she looked up at the intensity in his eyes.

He loomed over her, becoming her entire world.

He glanced at her, seeing the need in her face. Seeing the absolute irritation at his teasing. A smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth as he slipped his hand between her legs, watching her, and touched her.

Celestia inhaled, closing her eyes. She was more than ready for him.

Anthony pressed her closer to him, cradling her bottom and pressing it against his arousal. His entire body was so close to her, and no matter how many times she had let her mind drift to this moment, the full weight of him on her was mind-bending.

He knelt before her, peeling off his shirt. He nudged her thighs further apart and positioned himself to enter her.

“Are ye sure?” he asked, it was the first either of them spoke in a while and his voice was heavy with a maddening desire.

“Please,” she begged, clasping her hands around his biceps.

Anthony guided himself towards her, inching himself in, moving deliberately slow. He kissed her, wanting to feel the gasp of pleasure leave her as he slid fully inside her.

Celestia cried out, her fingernails dragging against his back, her hips bucking to get even closer to him.

“Did I hurt ye?”

“No,” she whispered, stroking the lines of his cheekbones.

He stilled, allowing her to get the fill of him.

“How do I feel?” he asked, nuzzling her neck with his nose.

“Better than I ever imagined,” she breathed, pressing her hips to him again, urging him on. She was becoming as impatient as him.

He began to move his hips, sliding out of her and then thrusting into her slowly once more. Celestia gave a shuddering gasp against his ear, the hot breath sent a jolt all the way down to his legs.

Anthony held himself up with his arms, finding a rhythm that sent Celestia’s head back against the pillows, eyes closed in absolute bliss.

“With me, Celestia,” he said, and she opened her eyes. The light of the fire danced in the shadows of her eyes.

He kissed her and felt her legs wrap around his waist, tugging him closer as they continued to move as one. A moan escaped him, as he felt the muscles tense in his abdomen. He was close.

Celestia’s arms fell from his back once more grasping at the thickness of his upper arms and moaned with each thrust. And just when he thought he could not last much longer, she came with him. Her muscles clenched around his manhood, spiraling towards the end.

She cried out his name and her entire body shuddered beneath him. He allowed himself one last thrust, before taking her mouth into one last passionate kiss.