Page 70 of Highland Guard

“Ye have already talked to some of Harcourt’s men, havenae ye.”

“Aye, because as badly as I wish ye to stay with me, I need to be what I was here or near to. I cannae step down, if ye ken my meaning. Weel, Sir Gybbon said I would be as they dinnae yet have any woman with my skills. Seems it was a rough place with a bad laird ere Sir Harcourt stepped in. Always work in the stables, too. Dunnie will miss the lads but he says there are a lot of others who will run to take their places as his helpers. So, I will go with ye.”

“Listening to all ye just said, I begin to think I do have a dower. ’Tis you.” Annys laughed and hugged her friend. “Then, welcome. I hope ye dinnae regret your decision.” She frowned. “That may leave Nigel lacking a woman to run his keep, however.”

“Nay, there are several women capable of stepping into my place. I gave him their names and he will choose the one who fits him best. I will wager a part of him welcomes this clearing out of some of the old, of David’s time as laird.”

“Ye have been busy. And, aye, mayhap he will find he appreciates making this wholly his keep now.”

“There. Ye look bonnie enough.” Joan hooked her arm through Annys’s. “Let us go and get ye wed to that fine mon.”

Harcourt pinned on his finest silver brooch, liking the way it shone against his plaid. It had been a gift from his whole family to celebrate his knighthood. He was nervous and he did not know why. This was what he wanted, what he had wanted for a very long time. Nothing he had done in the years since riding away from Annys had pushed her from his mind and, he now admitted, from his heart. He was happy, eager even, and yet that nervousness lurked beneath all those other feelings.

“Now why are ye frowning?” asked Gybbon, handing Harcourt a tankard of cider.

“Just realized I am, weel, nervous. Cannae understand why. This is what I want.”

“Ye are about to tie yourself to one lass for the rest of your days. Ye would be an idiot if ye were nay at least a wee bit nervous. And, considering the family we come from, the bond ye are about to make will indeed be tight for all the rest of your days. ’Tis nay a small step for any mon to take, even one who badly wants to take it.”

Harcourt nodded and started for the door. Gybbon was right. It was a natural, understandable feeling concerning the step he was about to take. Unlike anything else he had done in his life, this was forever. This woman would be at his side until the day he breathed his last.

He stepped into the great hall, took one look at Annys, her blood-red hair hanging free, falling in thick waves to her slender hips and looking glorious against her dark blue gown, and immediately lost any hint of nervousness. This was the woman he wanted. He might not have her love yet, although he suspected he did, but he had her passion. Without hesitation he walked up to her, took her by the hand, and faced the priest.

Annys sipped her wine and looked yet again at the marriage band on the finger of her left hand. She wondered where Harcourt had gotten it. Nigel now had the one David had given her, a family heirloom, and would save it for the day he found a wife. She swallowed a sigh, not wishing Harcourt to hear it and question her about it.

Married again. This time she could look forward to a passionate marriage bed. That was good. What she still did not know was whether or not she had love to go with it. It is something to work for, she told herself firmly. Many married couples found it later in their marriage.

Harcourt took her by the hand and gently tugged her to her feet as he stood up and thanked everyone for being there and witnessing their marriage. Annys struggled not to blush as he led her out of the hall to a chorus of ribald remarks, but knew she failed. She was concentrating so hard on keeping her blushes to a minimum that she was startled when they confronted Benet outside the doors to the great hall.

“Are ye my father now?” Benet asked Harcourt.

“Aye,” said Harcourt and Annys could hear the emotion behind the word, that need to say so to everyone, to let the truth be known.

“We will be leaving here now, aye?” Benet’s voice trembled a little as he spoke and Annys had to fight the urge to hug him.

“Aye, lad. I will be taking ye and your mother to my keep. Joan and her two sons will be coming along with us.”

Benet visibly cheered up at that news. “I best go say fareweel to people and get Roberta’s and Roban’s things all packed.” He ran off.

Harcourt looked at Annys. “Those animals have enough things that they need to be packed?” He grinned when she laughed, picked her up in his arms, and ran up the stairs.

Annys got a brief glimpse of flowers set in pots all around her room before Harcourt kicked the door shut behind them. He set her on her feet and kissed her. Her passion roared to life, the sudden ferocity of it fed by the fact that the battle with Adam had interrupted their time together and the knowledge that this man was now all hers.

Harcourt skillfully removed her gown as he kept her drugged with kisses. When she wore only her shift, he carried her to the bed, smiling faintly at the rose petals sprinkled over the clean linen. The way she watched him as he shed his clothes fired his blood until he feared he would begin panting like a dog on a hot summer day. There was a glint of possessiveness in that look and he welcomed it. For the first time in his life he liked the fact that a woman saw him as hers.

Joining her in bed, he kissed her again as he tugged off her shift. When they were finally skin to skin, he groaned with pleasure. The way she trembled faintly at the same time delighted him. The passion they shared was fierce and he wanted that to lead to a love that was just as fierce.

Annys stroked the smooth, warm skin on his broad back. As he kissed his way to her breasts, she noticed that something was different. The desire she felt for him had always been hot but now she realized that there were no tethers on it. Deep inside, where she had been able to ignore it, had lingered a shame over how much she had craved and enjoyed lovemaking with a man who had not been her husband. She had obviously not been disregarding the rules as completely as she had believed.

Desire stole her ability to think as he made love to her. He left no part of her untouched or untasted. Annys was trembling with the need to feel him inside her. She clutched at his broad shoulders and tugged, urging him back into her arms. The way he made love to her with his mouth, his intimate kisses, made her ache, but she wanted them to find their releases as one, joined in body as they were now joined by vows.

“Harcourt,” she cried, barely recognizing her own voice, which was thick and husky with desire, “I want ye with me.”

He stroked her one last time with his tongue, intoxicated by the taste of her, before slowly kissing his way back up her body. The way her eyes were darkened by passion’s heat only added to his need for her. He, too, wanted them to find their joy as one. It would be the perfect seal to their wedding night, to the vows they had just exchanged.

Annys cried out with pleasure as he thrust himself inside her. She slid her hands down his sides until she could clutch his taut backside as he moved. When her release came it shook her to her core. The way Harcourt’s thrusts grew fierce told her he was close and then she felt the warmth of his seed spill inside her, telling her he was with her as she fell. That knowledge sent yet another wave of intense pleasure through her. A small, sane fragment of her desire-fogged mind heard him say something and clung to the words.

Harcourt had already cleaned them both off, settled at her side in bed, and pulled her close to his side before that desperately grasped memory spread through her mind. At first Annys doubted what her mind was telling her. She had not been clearheaded and her need to hear those words was so fierce she could easily have imagined it. She sighed. It was time to grow a backbone.