Page 28 of The Highlander’s Virgin Nun (Highlanders’ Feisty Brides #2)

EPILOGUE

“Y er hand in his, and me hand in yers.”

Alexandra directed them all accordingly, making sure that everyone’s hands were linked, arms looped through one another’s, dresses and kilts chafing at the sides from everyone being so tightly squeezed together.

“Ready?” the leader of the band asked.

“Ready!” Alexandra, Eliza, and Rosaline shouted back with a giggle.

The band started up, and the group moved as one, jumping from foot to foot, toe to heel, right to left and back again.

The ladies danced with Caelan, Conall, and Jayden, all six of them in a tight circle, moving to the rhythm of the drums. As the bagpipes rose and fell, playing a familiar, cheerful melody that each could trace back to their childhood, the group leaped and stepped and jigged, dancing the night away.

They had indulged in a large feast put together by the Sinclair kitchen to celebrate Caelan’s full recovery. After he had awoken that morning, he had needed only a week more of rest. Gradually, he was able to get out of bed and walk, and after two weeks, he was riding again.

Jayden had refused to let him train with the boys, despite his insistence that he was fine. Otherwise, the Laird had fully recovered.

Rosaline had stayed by his side the whole time, fetching him everything he needed, and making sure he was drinking water and eating well. She held his arm as he regained his balance and spoke with him at length about what had happened.

He told her about the Abbey and the girls he had found there. She had recognized their names, too, and could recall their faces in passing as they could hers. They indeed had families to return to, and Jayden had taken them home to relatives who had no idea of the torture they had suffered.

Caelan had spoken to the council, firstly just to warn them, but they decided to put a man on watch at all times to ensure that the nuns inflicted no further cruelty. This put Rosaline at ease in a way she had not even known she needed. Knowing that no other girl would have to endure the same torture made her sleep more peacefully. Her nightmares became few and far between.

As the song came to a close, the group returned to the table, and the men refilled their cups with ale.

“Pace yerselves, lads,” Eliza warned. “I may be a great healer, but ye will be nursin’ yer headaches in the mornin’ alone. That’s nae a poison I have an antidote for.”

“Ah, but it is one problem I can solve,” Michaela chimed in, and the group waited for her to elaborate.

However, instead of speaking, she slipped her hand underneath Caelan’s arm and tickled his armpit. As his grip loosened on his cup, she snatched it and tossed the ale into her mouth.

“There ye go, lad. I meself am the antidote.”

The group burst into laughter, and Michaela retreated, his cup still in her hand.

“Are ye leavin’ early, Conall?” Rosaline asked.

“Aye, quite. I am hopin’ to be back at Castle MacKinnon before nightfall, so we shall be on our way after breakfast.”

Eliza put an arm around Rosaline’s shoulders. “We shall catch ye here in the mornin’ before we leave. But dinnae fret, lass. Ye ken we will be back, and yer husband here has yet to come and visit our home.”

“Aye, we owe ye for yer generous hospitality,” Conall added.

“Ye owe me nothin’,” Caelan interjected. “Yer wife saved me life.”

“Still,” Rosaline chimed in, “we will visit soon.”

“Can I come with ye?” Alexandra asked.

“Of course, lass.” Conall nodded. “We are family now, all of us.”

Rosaline leaned into her husband and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. Caelan put his arm around her and squeezed her tight. She looked around at her friends and family with sheer delight.

Months ago, she had been trapped in a cold, violent place, constantly in danger. Now, she was safe and warm, surrounded by love and joy, and it was all hers. It could not be taken from her.

She placed a hand on her belly, which had started to swell over the past couple of weeks.

It turned out that Michaela’s prediction was correct, confirmed by the few mornings she had thrown up unexpectedly. Other than those few occasions, Rosaline felt quite fine, but then she started feeling something new.

It was as if she could feel her insides far more intensely than she could before. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she could swear she felt something forming inside her. Not just in her womb, but in her heart. She felt herself being pulled to a new energy, love already growing and forming around it, and she knew now that Michaela had been right. She was going to be a mother.

“If ye dinnae mind,” Caelan said. “I think I am quite ready for bed.”

“Of course,” Conall agreed, as did the others.

The group bid each other goodnight and retreated to their quarters. When Rosaline turned to the stairwell, her hand in Caelan’s, he pulled her back gently.

“I thought ye wanted to go to bed?”

“I do, but I want to show ye somethin’ first.”

Rosaline furrowed her brow, but then her lips curled into a smile as her husband led her through the hall and out the castle doors. It was late, and all the servants, other than a couple of guards outside the gates, had gone to bed. It was quiet, serene, and dark.

Caelan led them towards the stables and paused halfway.

“Look up,” he whispered, stepping behind her and wrapping his arms around her to encase her small bump.

Rosaline leaned her head back against her husband’s chest and did as he asked. She saw the darkness of the sky—at first, black, then changing to a dark navy the longer she stared—and the stars twinkling above her. She had looked at the stars before, drawing lines between them and trying to find the pictures she had read about in books. But tonight, she savored them individually.

“See how some are brighter than others? How do some seem to glow and diminish, and others seem more constant? Some even have a blue or pink hue.”

Rosaline had never noticed that before, but now that she was prompted by Caelan’s questions, she could, in fact, see it.

She nodded back into his chest. “Hmm.”

“I have been all over Scotland, and nay matter where I am, I can look up and see the same stars. Sometimes, I like to think of them as people, so I always have me family with me. I even gave ye one.”

Caelan pointed to the star he had chosen for her, and it made her smile.

“Once our bairn is born, I shall match him or her to a star that suits them too, and then we will always be able to see one another.”

This creative tenderness was something she adored about Caelan. For a man with so much strength and power, who had fought so many battles, his heart was pure. He loved deeply when he gave in to it.

Slowly, his hand rose from her belly and trailed to her hair. He brushed it gently over her shoulders, baring her neck to the night air and he planted a soft kiss on her clavicle. Rosaline arched her neck, letting his breath heat her skin.

He lifted his head, took her hand, and guided her to the stables, where no one could see them. As soon as they stepped through the door, he turned her around, backed her up against the wooden wall, and kissed her deeply. His hands ran up her waist and pulled her closer so that their bodies were pressed up against one another. Rosaline felt heat coil in her belly as she braced herself for the pleasure she was about to receive.

When Caelan had been recovering from his injury, she had been insistent that they take things slow. She didn’t want him to hurt himself, and more so, she was afraid she would hurt him. But now, she could sense his urgency—he would wait no longer.

“Caelan.” She giggled as his lips moved down her chin, her neck, to the low square neckline of her dress.

“Nay one can see us,” he reassured her. “Come here.”

He led her further into a pen at the end of the stables. It was rarely used and always kept full of fresh hay for the other pens. Caelan walked her in and turned her around. He began to untie the laces at the back of her dress and kissed her again.

She found it terribly hard to resist his kisses, and so any objection she had died on her tongue. In fact, she quite enjoyed feeling the cold night air on her skin as he started peeling her clothes away. She felt his kisses linger on her skin.

“I ken ye wanted me to be careful, Rosaline, but I cannae hold back any longer,” Caelan moaned, nibbling on her earlobe and running his hands over the parts of her body he had missed.

He dropped her dress to the ground and kicked it away. He pulled her slip over her head and laid it down on a barrel of hay so that she would have something soft to lie on. Then, he brushed her hair over her shoulders and held her for a moment.

He took a step back and admired her naked body. As his eyes roamed over her, Rosaline could swear she saw a mound rising beneath his kilt.

“I dinnae ken how I got so lucky. I found the most beautiful woman in the world by chance in a forest.”

Rosaline blushed at his compliment. She was not used to such praise, but the desire in his eyes when he looked at her always made her feel invincible. It made her feel attractive and powerful. She got giddy on the feeling alone.

“Well,” Rosaline whispered, taking a step back and lowering herself onto the barrel of hay. She propped herself up on her elbows, arching her back and pushing up her breasts. “Ye better come show me how lucky I am, so that I decide to stay.”

Caelan chuckled at the tease. He undid the buttons of his shirt and pulled it off to reveal his chiseled body. Rosaline traced the lines of muscle on his torso down to the V at his waist. He unbuckled the belt of his kilt and lowered it slowly. She followed that V downwards, and her body flushed when she saw his hard member.

He knelt down on the ground and moved towards her. He placed his hands on her knees and slid them up her thighs until he reached her mound. Using his thumbs, he parted her legs and kissed her inner thighs. Rosaline let her upper body fall backward and relax. She adored what the man could do with his tongue, and she waited for it impatiently.

Caelan took his time on his way up, teasing her by getting closer and then pulling away. She almost grabbed his arm and pulled him onto her, but there was no need.

Suddenly, his warm, wet tongue flicked against her folds, and she let out a sigh of pure pleasure. His tongue slid up and down her slit, applying the perfect amount of pressure to stimulate her. The friction awoke nerves that made her blood sing in her veins, and she grew even wetter for him.

He quickened his pace, and her fingers sought him out. She grabbed onto his biceps as the pleasure washed over her in a perfect wave. Her head pushed back into the hay, and a moan escaped her lips. She had to cover her mouth quickly with her hand to stifle the noise, in case someone heard it and came to investigate. Her body lit up as she climaxed, and Caelan only stopped his ministrations once he felt her go lax.

“That was just the warm-up,” he whispered as he crawled up her body.

“I cannae wait for the full show,” she whispered back, a smile spreading across her lips.

Rosaline could feel Caelan’s member against her inner thigh. It throbbed, desperate to sink inside her. But Caelan did not thrust into her right away. He played with her bud for a moment longer and kissed her nipples. They hardened for him, and she felt tingles spread through her breasts—a feeling she was growing to love.

Suddenly, Caelan slid an arm underneath her lower back and gripped her hip. He lifted her gently and flipped her over so that her stomach lay on the slip-covered hay and her hips were bent over the edge. He wedged his knee between her legs, parting them, and Rosaline brought her forearms up by her chest to hold herself up. She felt nervous about this position, never having tried it before, but Caelan soon turned her attention back to pleasure.

Sitting back on his heels for a moment, Caelan gently slid a finger inside her from behind. The change in angle drove Rosaline wild, as entirely new sensations assaulted her. With his other hand, he stroked her bud, and soon she was dizzy with pleasure once again. Just as the wave was about to wash over her for a second time, his hands stopped.

They landed on her hips, and then Caelan thrust into her in one smooth motion. A moan escaped her lips, and her back arched. Caelan slammed in and out of her, gripping her hips for purchase. One hand slid up her back and fisted in her hair, tilting her neck to the side.

Rosaline reveled in his labored breathing and the little groans of pleasure he let out with each thrust. His grip on her hips tightened, and she relished the feeling of bringing him as much satisfaction as he gave her. She felt her pleasure build again, the ache between her legs tingling and throbbing as her climax neared.

Caelan let out a guttural groan and thrust deeper inside her. The noise pushed Rosaline over the edge, and she climaxed with him, her walls rippling around him and pulling him in deeper. They clung to each other as they rode the waves of pleasure, before collapsing on their backs.

“Wow,” Rosaline breathed, in shock at how wonderful it had been.

“Aye, I think that was our best yet,” Caelan agreed. He brushed his hair from his face, which was not damp with sweat despite the exertion.

“Well, we’ll have to find a way to outperform ourselves every time.”

Caelan laughed. “For ye, I think I’ll find a way.”

He reached to his side and managed to grab Rosaline’s dress. He pulled it gently over her body.

“Dinnae get up—it’s just in case ye get cold.”

Rosaline pulled the fabric over her skin to shield herself from the cold night air. She sensed that once the thrill and pleasure subsided, she might get chilly fast. It was a thoughtful gesture.

“What if someone saw us sneakin’ out?” She giggled.

“Then they will ken we have a happy marriage full of desire and love,” Caelan replied, like a town crier announcing good news.

Rosaline laughed, but she had heard the word they had yet to say to one another. She had thought it the moment she had heard of his injury. And she had felt it when she had seen him pale and sweaty in that bed. It had almost left her lips when he had awoken, spurred on by the possibility that she would not get a chance to say it. But she had not been brave enough.

Over the past few weeks, the feeling had only grown, and now she could not wait a moment longer to voice it, for fear that it might burst out of her.

“I love ye.”

But the words had not come out of her mouth. She turned to Caelan only to find him looking into her eyes, a smile on his lips.

“I love ye too,” she murmured.

She felt great relief in having finally said it out loud, but it was followed almost by shock.

He had said it too, and first.

Caelan loved her. Little old Rosaline, the nuns’ slave, was loved by a handsome, charming laird. She could hardly believe her luck.

The End?