Don't Give A Damn About My Plaid Reputation (Bad in Plaid 4)
And as the MacBains came to a stop, a small figure in a blue dress ran up.
‘Twas Elspeth Murray, and she held an armful of wildflowers.
Kester watched Robena’s smile grow as she pulled the lassie into a hug, then chuckled when the girl scolded her for crushing the flowers. Robena took the bouquet in one arm, and Elspeth’s hand in her other, and the pair of beauties turned to face Kester and the men.
His heart swelled with pride as her chin lifted and she marched toward him, proving to everyone watching how happy she was to become his wife.
He met her at the edge of the circle and leaned in close enough so the nearest men—they were wearing Sutherland plaid, but he didn’t recognize them—couldn’t hear.
“Are ye certain, Robena?” he murmured.
She seemed surprised. “About marrying ye?”
“About marrying me without yer father’s permission. About marrying me today, here, instead of waiting to get back to MacBain Castle.”
Her smile softened, and she pushed herself up on her toes to brush a kiss across his cheek.
“Of course, I’m certain, my love. Da approved of ye as a match for me; ‘twas just Murray we needed to convince.”
“And the King.” He shrugged ruefully.
“Laird Murray says—”
Wee Elspeth interrupted. “My da has already drafted a letter to the King, explaining we’re now allies with the MacBains, and as such, I get to choose my own husband, instead of being handed over like a sack of peas in exchange for some stupid meadow.”
Robena’s expression went curiously blank as she inclined her head regally. “Aye, as it should be.”
“So.” The girl hefted a big sigh and tossed her hair. “Ye two can marry with Da’s blessing. And the King’s, too. Da is verra good friends with him, ye ken.”
Kester’s brow rose. “I ken,” he managed blandly.
When Robena’s attention turned back to him, she was smiling again, but teasingly. “So ye see, Laird MacBain, I’ve nae objection to marrying ye here and now. My father approves of the match and we’ve two dozen Highland chieftains standing as witnesses.” Her wink was exaggerated. “The only concern is that if ye’re unlucky to sire a son on me immediately, ye might end up as laird of the Oliphants as well.”
His heart began to pound faster at the thought of Robena’s belly swelling with their child. “I think—I think ‘tis a risk I dinnae mind so much.”
He offered her his arm, and as she slid her hand through it, he heard Giric mutter, “Nay, sex, ye big oaf. They’re speaking of sex.”
“Aaaah,” Mook rumbled. “’Tis my favorite part!”
Robena began to chuckle, and Kester followed. Laughing, he gently tugged her across the circle, toward the waiting men.
Here and now.
And forever.
* * *
Robena hadn’t stopped smilingall evening. As the sounds of the wedding celebration faded behind them and they headed into the woods, she tucked herself up against Kester’s side, twining both sets of fingers through one of his.
He carried a torch in his other hand but turned to send her a worried glance. “Ye must be exhausted, lass. We’ll give ye a few days to rest afore we—”
“Kester MacBain,” she interrupted, knowing good and well what he was hinting at. “I am fine. I am more than fine. If ye think ye can use that wee bit of excitement yesterday to get out of yer husbandly duties tonight…”
Apparently, her threatening tone wasn’t all that threatening. With a chuckle, he stepped into the little clearing and tossed the torch toward a fire ring someone had set up. The kindling flared to life, revealing a small tent, just as he pulled her into his arms.
He rested his chin on her head, his arms around her waist. “Husbandly duties, eh?”
Just having him this close was intoxicating. He’d bathed sometime today—not just the impromptu dip in the loch he’d taken yesterday, but an actual bath, complete with soap and a shave and whatever other manly things men did in the bath.