Curse it. Were they to talk as strangers in this awkward way, all night long?
‘Do you mind me being here, Giselle?’
‘No, for you come at my invitation.’ She smiled, which encouraged him a little.
‘If you cannot bear me to touch you, I will not come again. I will not bring fear on one I love. So, tell me, Giselle, why offer to share my bed now?’ he said.
‘Because I find I still want you, and I thought I had lost that feeling forever.’
Her words hung in the air between them. He could not approach Giselle. It had to be her desire, not his.
Giselle came over to him and put her hand up to his cheek. In an instant, he grabbed her and kissed her. As she clutched at his chest, he growled, and moved his hands slowly over her body, over every curve and hollow that had been denied him.
Still fearing rejection, Lyall pulled up her skirts. She gasped and clung tighter, but she did not stop him, indeed, she began kissing him back, hard. His fingers made their way up her thigh, parting her legs. This could not be, she would not let him. But she did, and when his fingers found her, she cried out.
‘Lyall, I want you, but I am a little frightened.’
‘Do you trust me?’
‘Yes, yes, a thousand times, yes.’
‘Then let me love you, as you deserve to be loved. I’ve wanted us to be like this for so long.’
‘Go slowly, please.’
‘Slowly is always the best way,’ he said.
Lyall could feel her smile against his mouth as she kissed him. He lay her down on the bed and sank into her embrace and he did go slowly, so that he could remember her smell and her taste and what it was like to be at one with her. So that love could come back into their hearts, and drive out fear.
By the time they had finished, the fire had died down to its embers, and night was creeping in across the loch. They lay quietly in the gathering darkness, each of them lost in their own thoughts.
Lyall heard Giselle stifle a sob. He hesitated to ask, but he had to.
‘Was it awful for you?’
‘Quite the opposite. Oh, Lyall, it was glorious.’
He turned his head to look at her. ‘Then why are you crying?’
‘Because my soul was in a cage and now you have freed it. I am so happy. Forgive me for spurning you for so long.’
His hand found hers, and clutched it tight.
‘Nothing to forgive, and you were worth the wait,’ he said, bumping their joined hands against her hip. ‘You were worth everything I had to do, to win you.’
‘I want so much to make you happy,’ she whispered.
‘Well, as to that,’ he said, as he leant in and pressed his mouth to hers.
‘So soon?’
‘Aye, wife, I am not as practised as I once was. I need to hone my skills on you.’
‘Your skills?’ she said, laughing.
‘Aye, stop wriggling so I can settle myself and get comfortable.'
He tried to kiss her again, but she was laughing too much.
‘Stop laughing, or you will unman me, Giselle.’
Her hand moved downwards and took hold of him. ‘I don’t think that is possible, Lyall Buchanan.’
He stopped and just stared at her, the blue eyes full of love and genuine happiness, the red hair like a fiery, silk river under his hands, her long pale legs wrapped around him. He found he did not have any words, but she did.
‘I love you, Lyall, so very much. Everything will be alright now, won’t it?’
‘Aye lass, it will.’ He put his head into her neck so she would not see his tears of happiness and relief. ‘Now, where was I?’ he whispered into her ear.
He had Giselle back, all of her, and although winter held the land outside in its iron grip, Lyall felt a future stretching before him, as bright and warm as the coming spring.