To Deceive a Highlander: The Sutherlands of Dornoch Castle ~ Book 1 Read online

  "Ye are concerned with yer sister's happiness?"

  Aye, it seemed the lass did see him as an unfeeling brute. "Does that surprise ye, lass? Yes, my wee sister's happiness is important to me. Mayhaps I am not the beast ye think me to be." He leaned in closer to whisper in her ear. "Could it be ye feel ye made a mistake by switching sisters? There are duties that would never fall to Donella that my wife will satisfy."

  She drew in a deep breath, and a flush covered her face. He watched her over the rim of his ale cup, wondering if her reaction was from thinking of the time they would retire to his bedchamber?

  He had to push those thoughts away himself. Imagining her mass of dark red hair spread over his pillow as he worshipped her body would only torture him until 'twas time to retire.

  "Let the dancing begin!" Conall shouted from the middle of the floor. Tables were immediately shoved against the wall to make room. Dancing was a big part of a wedding feast, and there had been just enough ale to make even the least capable dancer hop around like a fool.

  Conall strode over to them, his arms outstretched. "Come, Laird, ye and yer bonny wife must start the dancing with the Grand March."

  The air rang with the fiddlers' few jarring notes, then went into a march. Ainslee and Haydon both stood. He took her hand and led her to the space recently cleared. He and Ainslee would march to the music from the fiddlers and the bagpipers. Elsbeth and Conall as the maid of honour and best mon would follow, with the guests behind them.

  Once they circled the room, the music switched to a lively tune. Despite his size, Haydon was always a graceful dancer and enjoyed it. He pulled Ainslee into his arms, and they moved into the country dance. He was pleased when she followed him so easily, but being a Johnstone lass, she no doubt had been dancing since she could walk.

  A few hours later, after another two dances in a row, he clasped her hand and led her back to the dais to recover. They downed glasses of ale as their breath returned.

  "Ye are quite the dancer, my laird."

  "Aye. I enjoy it almost as much as sword play." He leaned in close to her ear. "Or bed play."

  He laughed out loud when her recently faded flush from dancing returned. Before he was able to comment on that, several of the ladies approached their table, their grins telling. "'Tis time for the bedding ceremony, my lady."

  * * *

  Ainslee had been successful since the morning pushing to the back of her mind what would happen once the celebrations had ended. Not that they were over since they would go on for hours, but the bedding ceremony was traditionally set during the festivities.

  She was certainly not looking forward to it. It was humiliating, and she had no desire to have a bunch of drunk, lewd men drool over her and her new husband in bed.

  She grabbed Haydon's shirt and pulled him close. "My laird, I must have a word with ye."

  "Come, come, now dearie," one of the ladies said as she reached across the table and took Ainslee's hand. "We need to prepare ye for yer husband."

  The ladies all burst out laughing, and she tried once more to speak with Haydon, but he was enjoying her distress. A bit too much to her mind.

  "My laird." She reached her hand out, but he only continued to laugh. The arrogant oaf.

  The ladies pulled her across the room to the sound of hoots and laughter from the guests. Up the stairs they went to what she assumed was the laird's bedchamber. A bath had been prepared, and within minutes, the women had her unclothed and sitting in warm, perfumed water.

  She looked around frantically for Elsbeth, but she was nowhere in sight. "Where is my sister?" she asked right before a bucket of water was dumped over her head.

  With her stepmother dead when she was just a child, no one had spoken to her about her wedding night. Why hadn't she sought out one of the serving girls or maids who spent their time giggling about this?

  It seemed within minutes she was dragged from the bathtub, dried, and wrapped in a linen. Amid more giggling and comments about what was to come, she relaxed as she sat before the fireplace while one of the women brushed her hair.

  She was tempted to ask for some information or advice but decided their hilarity would only cause her more anxiety. It seemed the women had been enjoying their ale also.

  Shortly, she was hauled across the room and slipped into bed wearing nothing. "Um, is there a nightdress I can wear? I brought some with me." She pointed to the trunk in the corner.

  "No, my lady. 'Tis yer wedding night. No need for a nightdress. I'm sure the laird has been waiting for this for some time." One of the older women winked at her, and the others all laughed.

  They hustled around the room, picking up her clothing and the wet linen. Just as she was beginning to relax and feel a bit sleepy, loud singing and stomping up the stairs brought her wide awake.

  Her heart pounding, she pulled the coverlet up to her neck. The women continued to laugh and nudge each other.

  The door burst open, and Haydon was shoved into the room from behind. About ten men, it seemed, shouted and laughed behind him. "Time for the bedding ceremony," one of the men shouted, waving his cup of ale that spilled on the floor.

  Ainslee pulled the coverlet up farther until the only thing visible was her eyes and hair. She backed up against the headboard and tried verra hard to calm herself.

  The crowd of both grinning men and women around her bed almost brought up the wee bit of food she had eaten. Surely, they weren't going to stand there and watch?

  Haydon sat on the bed alongside her and retrieved her hand from the bedcovers. "Thank ye all for the escort upstairs, but I believe my wife and I would prefer some privacy."

  She almost fell in love with him at that moment.

  "Nay, laird. 'Tis a tradition." Shouts of 'nay' and 'tradition' echoed through the room. Haydon shook his head. "Nay, my friends."

  "The church requires it," shouted one of the women. "The marriage must be consummated to make it legal."

  "Ye can easily see my bonny wife. Do any of ye here believe I am incapable of doing such?" His brows rose, and Ainslee hid her giggle. She couldn't imagine who would look at Haydon with his muscles and definite appeal and believe he could not perform his duty.

  He stood and made a shooing motion. "Off with ye now. I am yer laird, and I order it."

  With a great deal of grumbling and moaning, the revelers shuffled out of the room, denied their moments of sport. Haydon followed and closed the door, turning the lock.

  Ainslee breathed a sigh of relief. She cleared her verra dry throat. "Thank ye, my laird."

  Haydon began to undress, shrugging his plaid off his shoulder and unbuttoning his liene, watching her the entire time.

  She inhaled deeply, fascinated, as all that golden skin and hard muscles were uncovered. Once his shirt was gone, he began to loosen the pleats in his plaid, and then stopped. "Close yer mouth, lass."

  Her eyes flew up to his face. The arrogant arse grinned at her. She shrugged and began to pick at the cover. "'Tis no matter to me."

  "Aye. I can see that."

  The rustle of clothing dropping to the floor had her heart pumping and muscles tightening. She studied her interlaced fingers as she felt the bed dip and the covers move as he settled alongside her.

  The warmth from his—naked—body practically set her on fire. Dear God, what had she gotten herself into? She kenned marriage had been in her future from the time she drew her first breath. If it wasn't this handsome mon with all his appeal, it could be an auld, fragile one making a last attempt at a son.

  "Look at me, Ainslee."

  Taking a deep breath, she looked over at her husband.

  Her husband.

  The mon who had every right to her body, her person, and controlled her welfare. The law and the Church agreed. At the moment, it was hard for her to remember why she thought it had been a good idea to switch places with her sister.

  Then she realized poor Elsbeth would have swooned several times by now. Yes. She could take her sister's place alongside this mon. She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. "Aye, my laird?"

  He reached up and cupped her chin. "The name is Haydon. 'My laird' is for everywhere except when we're alone."

  Alone.

  She shivered.

  Why did that word terrify her? She cleared her throat again. "I wish to thank ye for chasing those men—and women—from the room."

  He continued to run his finger up and down her cheek. "I could see it was making ye uncomfortable. I ne'er saw the need for it anyway. Maybe for the king and such, but I'll have no mon looking at my wife's uncovered body."

  Tears sprang to her eyes. The switch with her sister, the fear of Haydon raising a fuss at the ceremony, the thought of sharing his bed, and now kindness from the mon she considered a brute was too much. "Thank ye."

  One lone tear slid down her cheek.

  Haydon wiped it with his thumb and left the bed to walk across the room to retrieve an ewer of wine and two goblets that had been left there. The sight of his naked, muscular backside as he moved fascinated her. Her hands itched to run her fingers over it, to feel the warmth and strength there. Not brave enough just yet, however, she closed her eyes as he turned and came back to the bed.

  "Ye can open yer eyes now, Ainslee." He poured wine into the two cups and handed her one. "This will help to calm ye."

  She nodded and took a sip.

  Once more, he settled alongside her, watching her over the rim of his cup. "How old were ye when yer mam died?"

  She drew circles on the bed coverings with her finger. "Not long after I was born." She looked up. "Da married again, but my stepmother died giving birth to my wee brother, who died shortly after that. Elsbeth and I were about eight or nine summers then, I believe."

  "And h
e never married again after that?"

  "Nay. He has a nephew who will inherit when Da passes away. Damian is a nice mon. He will do well."

  He studied her carefully. "So, ye had no one speak to ye about what will happen tonight?"

  "Nay." Another, larger sip of wine.

  Haydon downed his wine in one gulp and set the cup aside on the small table next to the bed. "Drink up, lass, 'tis time ye learned what ye did when ye switched places with yer sister."

  5

  Haydon took the now empty goblet from Ainslee's hand.

  Her shaking hand.

  He'd had enough experience with women, but never had he bedded a virgin. Would she laugh if he told her he was nervous too? Bedding his wife was different than taking a tumble with one of the wenches in the castle. This initial introduction into intimate relations between husband and wife could set the tone for the rest of their marriage. He wanted her to find pleasure in the act, not simply endure it because it was her duty.

  She looked so verra small in his bed. Small and terrified. All the reassurance in the world was not going to calm his nervous bride, so he might as well get on with it.

  Reaching out, his fingers clamped over her trembling chin, and slowly lowered his head until his lips touched hers. Warm, soft, moist. When she didn't shudder or pull away, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her lush body to his. There was far more to the lass than appeared while clothed.

  To his surprise, she responded, pressing her lips to his, even shifting closer. He placed both his hands on her face and tilted her head to give him more access to the sweet taste of wine and something belonging to Ainslee. A scent of lavender drifted to him from her body.

  His fingers wove their way into her hair, the silky strands sliding along his skin. Gently, he eased their bodies down until they were lying side by side, facing each other. He drew back, grazing his thumbs over her cheeks, his eyes shifting to the hammering pulse in her neck. Her eyes fluttered open, and she licked her lips, offering him a soft smile.

  He was lost.

  'Twas not the way it should be. His wife was an innocent, yet he saw in her eyes the same desire he felt. He traced her beautifully arched eyebrows with his finger. She closed her eyes and sighed. Aye, he'd married the right sister.

  Slowly, he pulled at the bed covering that had slipped from her face to her shoulders. He sucked in a deep breath as the shapely beauty of her naked body taunted him. She moved to retrieve the coverlet, but he placed his hands over hers. "Nay, let me look at ye, lass."

  He groaned as he gazed upon the most perfect breasts he'd ever seen. Plump, soft, white, with dark pink nipples, pouting, begging for his mouth.

  He complied with their request, and Ainslee let out a soft moan as he nipped, licked, and suckled at her warm flesh. She was restless, had begun to shift her legs, her breathing increasing. "Aye, that feels good."

  She gripped his head, pulling at his hair, arching her back, silently asking for more. He switched to her other breast as his hand wandered down her curves, gripping her arse, pulling her against his throbbing shaft.

  He sensed a slight stiffness, so he moved his hand back up, caressing, soothing, stroking circles on her lower back, then once again moving to cover her magnificent bottom.

  She was everything a mon could want in a bed partner. Lush, warm, beautiful, and responsive. Kissing his way up her warm, soft body to the tender skin under her ear, he grinned as she tugged on his hair and murmured "Nay. Doona stop."

  "There's more to come, lass," he whispered. He nibbled, whispering her name, sucking on her ear lobe, teasing it with his teeth, then soothing it with his tongue.

  No' one to wander from bed to bed, 'twas some time since he'd lain with a woman, and that, combined with the intense attraction he felt for the lass, was testing his control. Speeding things up would only cause problems for his wife, and if they were to have an active bed sport life, he needed to slowly introduce her to the joys and pleasures and not frighten or shock her.

  'Twas a gracious thought to consider her innocence until her hand traveled from where she gripped his shoulder and wandered down his chest, pulling slightly on the hairs, twirling circles with her finger. "Yer hairs on yer chest are so different from the ones on yer head. Coarser." She gave a slight tug.

  He pulled her in for another kiss, plastering her against him, teasing her lips with his tongue until she smiled and opened. He plunged in, once again finding all the sensitive parts of her mouth.

  And her hand continued to wander down. He moaned, whether in pain or pleasure, he wasn't sure as she headed right to his shaft, gripping him with her warm, small hand. He sucked in a deep breath. "Ach, lass. That feels so good, but if ye continue, 'twill be over before it starts."

  Leave it to his spirited wife to grin at his comments. And he was concerned that he would frighten her?

  Ainslee grasped the verra odd looking part of her husband's body. Hard and soft at the same time. Everything about his body was different from hers. Where he was straight, she was curvy. Where she was soft, he was hard, muscular. She felt safe in his arms, knowing he would never let anything happen to her.

  She enjoyed more than anything how he hissed when she moved her hand up and down his shaft, squeezing slightly.

  "Does that hurt?"

  "Nay. It feels good. Too good, wife."

  She was warm, verra, verra warm. She kicked the bedcovers off that had tangled around her feet. The warm brush of his fingers over her skin brought gooseflesh as his hands explored the lines of her waist, hips, moving behind her to grasp her bottom, pulling her against him once more. "Lass, yer driving me mad. This isna' gonna last very long, I'm afraid." He nibbled the skin where her neck and shoulder joined.

  "Is that good or bad?"

  He offered a soft laugh. "It depends. But I'll take care of ye first."

  Not sure what that meant, she clasped his face with her hands and dragged him into a kiss. The mon was quite the kisser.

  His hands lightly traced a path over her skin, settling at the place between her thighs. She jerked, startled at the intimate touch.

  "Relax, wife."

  He explored the area with his strong fingers, the wetness that surprised her making it easy for him to circle and stroke with his thumb. Ainslee grew restless, all of her attention centered on his fingers and what they were doing to her.

  She put her arms around his neck, tugging lightly on the silk strands of his hair. Someone moaned, and she feared it was her.

  "Do ye like that, lass?" Softly his breath fanned her face.

  She nodded furiously, her head thrashing back and forth. "Aye. Doona stop this time."

  "Ye are so wet for me." His eyes darkened dangerously as he studied her.

  Assuming that was a good thing, given his tone, she was pleased that she wasn't doing this all wrong.

  He put one of his large fingers inside her, but she was too taken with the feelings building in her to concern herself with that.

  "Ach, lass, 'tis tight ye are. I must do more to prepare you." He scattered kisses along her jaw, over her face, under her ear. Her leg muscles kept tightening, and she pressed her center to his hand. "Please."

  A second finger slipped in, but he continued to move his thumb over a bit of flesh she'd never noticed before. She felt something not too far off.

  "Haydon, please I need something."

  "I ken, lass." He lowered his head and suckled again on her breasts. First one, then the other. She held her breath as all the muscles in her body tightened, her attention directed on the area between her legs. She was reaching for something. "Haydon, please…"

  "Aye, lass. Relax. 'Twill come if ye let me do the work."

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than a strong wave of pleasure like she'd never felt before, nor knew was even possible, washed over her. She bucked against his hand, drawing out the amazing feeling.

  Once she regained her senses, she lay panting, her chest heaving. The air had left her body and all her bones had truly melted. She felt as though she might never walk again. Just as she was settling in for a nice relaxing sleep, Haydon rolled over and within seconds, his hard body was on top of hers.