CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Marissa stood at the large windows at the front of the castle, eagerly staring out across the grounds into the distance. Her breath fogged up the glass, and she reached up to wipe it.
“Any moment now,” she whispered, her voice low enough that no one else could hear.
A messenger had arrived nearly fifteen minutes ago, announcing that her family should be following after him shortly. And ever since, she had been rooted to the same spot, waiting to see them.
“How much longer do ye think it will be?” Ayla asked, drawing Marissa’s attention away from her vigil.
Her soon-to-be sister-in-law had joined her only a few moments ago, seeming to think that waiting for her family was some sort of adventure. But she had quickly grown bored.
“It cannae be too much longer,” Marissa answered, before turning her attention back to the grounds.
Just as she did, movement within the trees beyond the gate caught her attention. For a moment, it was nothing more than a shifting of light. Something large moving between the trees to block out the sun.
However, a second later, a carriage came into view. A familiar one that even at a distance made a wide smile tug up the corners of her mouth.
“There they are!” she cried, jumping back to grab Ayla’s hand and sprint toward the door.
The two girls laughed as they ran, their boots pounding on the stone as they threw themselves down the stairs. The gravel crunched beneath their feet, and then they halted.
Arthur and Joseph were already in the courtyard, instructing the servants as they prepared everything for the cèilidh.
Marissa watched her soon-to-be husband. Something deep and primal coiled in her belly as she studied the self-assured way he moved about. Since their interlude the night before, she had found it hard to meet his eyes for any prolonged period of time.
Not that she regretted it. She’d meant it when she had told him that. But every time she looked at him, images of him kneeling between her thighs, his head moving in the silver light of themoon and the blue hue of the glow worms dancing along his skin, flooded her mind. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do it again. Or if she felt ready to do anything further.
And so looking at her future husband and getting so aroused by him was creating quite a problem for her. Especially as her family grew ever closer, their carriage seeming to grow larger with every passing second.
Get a hold of yerself, lass.
She chastised herself inwardly, smoothing down her dress absentmindedly as she and Ayla stood in the courtyard, eagerly waiting for the arrival of her family.
“What are ye the most excited about?” Ayla asked.
But before Marissa could answer, the door to the castle opened. A quick glance over her shoulder showed Amara, copper hair braided around her head like a coronet and round cheeks flushed with excitement as she rushed down to join them.
“I just finished layin’ out yer things for the cèilidh,” Amara told Ayla as she approached.
Ayla thanked her, and the trio stood, watching as the gate to the courtyard rose. Marissa’s heart fluttered as a featherlight touch skittered across her left arm.
A glance down showed Arthur standing by her side and watching the gate.
“Are ye happy to have them here?” he asked, prompting her to nod.
“Of course she’s happy,” Ayla chimed in, her tone telling everyone that she thought his question was ridiculous. “That’s like askin’ if ye were happy to be back home with us after the war!”
“It’s nae quite the same,” he shot back. “But I understand what ye mean.”
Marissa chuckled to herself, but there was no time for her to interject, as the carriage rolled to a stop before them. A footman walked forward, prepared to pull open the door, but he did not have a chance.
The door to the carriage burst open, and in a flurry of fabric and squawking, her sisters hurled themselves down the steps and onto the gravel.
“Marissa!” Abigail yelled.
She was the first to throw herself at Marissa, her arms wrapping tightly around Marissa’s slender shoulders. Marissa hugged her back tightly, choking out a laugh.
Freya followed after. She was a little less exuberant as she accounted for her rounded belly, but her arms found their way around Marissa all the same.
