Giselle tried not to show her discomfort, and, with infinite patience, Lyall made her forget all about it. The sounds of the summer afternoon, the birds calling, the whoosh of the breeze moving through the trees, the gurgle of the river, the muted clang of the smithy hammering from distant Beharra, faded away. There was just her body and his, and the heated feeling of wanting, where their bodies joined so intimately. As her feelings carried her away, Giselle she tried not to cry with joy.
Lyall began to moan and thrust harder into her, his hand taking hold of her hip, and squeezing, as he stiffened, and groaned into her hair. Giselle could not move, pinned under him, with the long grass tickling her skin as it wafted against her legs. She never wanted to move again, for she was utterly happy and, Giselle knew, without a sliver of doubt, that she was completely in love with Lyall Buchanan.
They lay together, their bodies moist with sweat until Lyall kissed her tenderly and rolled aside.
‘Here, use my shoulder for a pillow if it will ease you a bit.’ He held out his arm, and she snuggled into him. No words were spoken after that, for the longest time. To Giselle, the sound of the insects, buzzing, and the river, gurgling past, became deafening to her ears. Was he disappointed with her? Had she not tried hard enough to please him? Giselle was sure she had a lot to live up to, as Lyall would have had many women, far more experienced and exciting than her.
‘I want a gaggle of brats at my feet, at least four sons,’ Lyall said in a rush, looking up at the sky. She heard him swallow hard. ‘For that, we should wed.’
She could scarce believe Lyall was saying the words, but she tried to sound nonchalant.
‘Yes, we should wed,’ she said and, just like that, she had a future. ‘What about daughters?’ she asked.
‘Aye, we shall have some of those too. I will be a busy man, keeping you satisfied.’ Lyall entwined his fingers in hers and raised himself onto his elbow.
‘You did like it, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I did, very much.’
His green eyes were warm as he looked deep into her eyes.
‘Giselle, this life here at Beharra, in the Highlands, it is rougher than you were bred for. If you wed me, I fear you may come to regret it. I am a soldier, death could claim me any day, and you could be left a widow.’
‘No.’
‘Fate has a way of catching up with us, Giselle. One day soon, a stray arrow will find my heart or a sword spill my guts. Or I could die of my wounds or a fever, which afflicts all armies, and carries off more men than any amount of weapons, and you don’t see it coming. Living or dying is all a throw of the dice, and God’s will.’
‘Lyall, it is also God’s will that we have found each other. I don’t care how long we have, a day, a week, a lifetime, as long as we are together. I have had more adventure in these last weeks with you, savage Scot that you are, than in my whole lifetime at Ravensworth. This, with you, feels more like living than my quiet, safe world back there ever did. I can learn, and I can get stronger if you are there to guide me. I don’t want that life I was bred for, it would kill me to live like that. I cannot go back, and I cannot leave you, I can only go forward, by your side, always.’
‘Then, it is settled. If you can bear to, I should like to show you how much I love you once more, before the sun sets on this day.’
Lyall took hold of her waist, pulling her on top of him. It seemed shameful for a man to look at her nakedness so fully. A warm hand skimmed her bottom and then Lyall pulled her hard against him. She could feel he was ready to go again.
‘You are in charge, this time. You control how deep I go, how hard I go. I am your slave, to use as you wish, and Giselle, don’t be shy.’
His lips found hers, and she was lost. Giselle closed her eyes and felt the setting sun glow orange against her face, and her body drift away under his confident touch. Later, when he entered her, less painfully than the first time, she realised that she had never ever been this happy and that she would never, ever deserve him.
***
‘Wed!’ bellowed Cormac. ‘Have you lost your senses?’
‘No, I am in full possession of my wits, and I am marrying Giselle. In fact, I have just come from her bed this fine morning, so it’s best I make haste, else I shame her and myself.’
Lyall’s face grew warm at the thought of the night he had just spent with Giselle, making love to her, learning just where to put his hands and his mouth to make her cry out his name in ecstasy.
‘On a few weeks acquaintance, you would do this? She is English for God’s sake. And what about the ransom? Her father will demand her return.’
‘Dead he is, dead for weeks now. So there will be no ransom, there was never a ransom coming, and there is no one to claim her, but me.’
‘What? How…?’
‘Oh, close your mouth and cease your bellowing, Cormac. I want Giselle, I intend to have Giselle, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. Apart from getting used to having an English sister, that is.’
Before Cormac could voice any more objections, Ramsay came in. He gave Lyall a truly venomous look.
‘Do you know I am to be wed, Ramsay? Surely you must, by the look on your face. Eavesdropping again? You do know that people who press their ears to doors are liable to get splinters in them.’
‘We have bigger trials than your marriage, Lord. I came to say that there has been a skirmish with the Gowans. Two farmers killed, and several wounded. Livestock has been carried off and homes put to flames.’
Cormac stood in a fury. ‘Curse them to hell. What has roused them from their slumber? We’ve not had an attack for years?’
‘I thought this evil was behind us,’ snarled Lyall.
‘Well it is not. These Gowan beasts are working their way along the borders of Buchanan lands and putting fear into the hearts of our clansmen. Will we retaliate Lord?’
‘Why now?’ asked Lyall.
‘Ranulph Gowan scarce had hair on his balls when he took over from his father,’ said Cormac, ‘but it seems the wretch has gone from a boy to a man, and now he wants to test our resolve or prove himself to his clansmen by killing ours. Either way, this insult must be answered swiftly and in blood.’
Cormac’s face was grim with anger. ‘So Lyall,’ he snapped, ‘are you coming to teach the Gowans a lesson in Buchanan justice, or would you prefer to stay here, making love to the enemy?’