Tender Feud

Raith chuckled. “We’ll see. Finish your dram, cousin. I have to find Meggie and tell her she has a new brother.”

It was several hours later, near midnight, that Raith was admitted into his wife’s room again. He was freshly dressed and shaved, and he brought Callum and Meggie with him.

“Dunna stay for long, mind ye,” Flora warned. “The mistress needs her sleep.” Flora and Morag left then, both looking pleased with themselves; they were finally able to rest now that mother and child were doing so well. The crofter’s wife had already been sent home.

Raith approached the bed first, to find his baby son sleeping in the curve of his wife’s body. “Katrine, you have visitors.”

Katrine opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at him. Then she saw Meggie and beckoned with one hand. “Come here, my love, and see our new little lamb.”

Meggie stepped forward eagerly. Despite the lateness of the hour, she was wide-awake, her dark eyes shining as she stared down at the sleeping infant. “So bonny,” she whispered.

“Yes, he is bonny, isn’t he?” Katrine murmured with affection. Although Meggie was able to speak in complete sentences these days, she remained a shy, quiet child. Katrine’s heart never failed to contract whenever Meggie initiated a conversation.

“What is his name?” Meggie asked. Glancing up at her husband, Katrine met his blue eyes with love in her own. “I thought we might name him Allan, after Raith’s father.”

Raith’s smile was slow and infinitely sweet. “I think he should be called James, after yours.”

Callum raised his gaze to the ceiling. “Heaven preserve us, do you two mean to argue at a time like this? Name the lad after both your fathers and be done with it. Allan James.”

Raith reached out to take Katrine’s hand tenderly in his. “What say you, my love?”

“I like it. Meggie, what do you think?”

“Yes.” Meggie nodded solemnly.

“Allan James, it is,” Raith decreed, smiling into Katrine’s eyes. For a moment, they gazed at each other, sharing a glance of intimacy, their entwined fingers tightening.

“Sweet Lucifer.” Callum shook his dark head, though his tone held the familiar charming hint of laughter. “All this cooing is becoming maudlin. Come, Meggie, I’ll put you to bed. I think these two would prefer to be alone.”

When Meggie’s face fell, Raith bent down to give his ward a hug. “You can come back in the morning and see Allan James when he’s awake. No doubt he’ll be pleased to have you as a playmate.”

Somewhat consoled, Meggie nodded. When Callum had finished gallantly kissing Katrine’s fingers, Meggie took the hand her roguish cousin offered and allowed herself to be ushered from the room.

When they were gone, Raith edged himself onto the bed. “I intend to stay.” Ignoring his wife’s surprised protest, he propped his back against the headboard and draped his arm over Katrine’s pillow, their son between them. “This is our bed, last time I checked. I don’t mean to abdicate my rights just because Allan James has come along.”

“But Morag said I need to feed him again.”

“Go right ahead, my love. I want to watch.”

His demand was immodest, she knew, but rather than discomfiting her, it pleased Katrine inordinately that Raith should show such interest in his son. When the baby stirred a short while later, Katrine opened her bodice and drew him close. Almost at once, Allan hungrily clamped his tiny mouth on her breast, suckling hard on the nipple.

“I’

m envious,” Raith said about the tiny cooing sounds the baby made.

Katrine found herself blushing, not at her husband’s provocative comment, but at the reminder of the intimate, wicked, wonderful things he himself had done to her breasts in the past several months…the sweet caresses, the tender assaults. Indeed, the past months of marriage had been incredibly perfect, with just enough spirited disagreement to add spice to their relationship. Even their fiercest arguments had ended right here in this bed. And through it all was the soul-deep knowledge that they were right for each other. The flame of their love had kept her warm during the harsh Highland winter, Katrine reflected, and would for years to come, if she had any say in the matter.

The thought made her glance up. Seeing the tender expression in Raith’s face as he gazed down at his son, Katrine smiled softly. Raith wanted children, whether he knew it or not, and she planned to give him more. Many more.

As if he felt her watching him, Raith shifted his gaze to her and grinned. She felt the impact of his loving look so strongly that her pulse leaped. He was so handsome, this Highland laird that she had married. She was amazed that he bore so little resemblance to the fierce stranger who had accosted her that night in her uncle’s study. Love had softened him, gentled him, made him the true soul mate she had dreamed of finding. He no longer spent his days hating and feuding with the Campbells. Raith had kept his word, and so had the duke of Argyll. There had been little trouble between their clans since they had struck their bargain.

“I’ve sent a message to your uncle,” Raith commented as if reading her mind. “He should arrive day after tomorrow.”

Katrine’s brow furrowed. “You will receive him politely, won’t you, Raith?”

“Yes, I’ll receive him politely, my sweet shrew. I’ll be so gracious he will think he’s royalty.” Raith’s mouth curved ruefully. “And if Argyll sends a christening gift, as he’s threatened to do, I might even accept it.”

Katrine returned his gaze, her green eyes wide and searching. “Do you ever have any regrets that you married a Sassenach Campbell?”