Saving Grace

  She shivered. " 'Tis the truth I've never heard of such a…"

  "I'll make you like it," he promised.

  "Will you like…"

  "Oh, yes."

  "What will I…"

  His wife was having difficulty finishing her sentences. She was obviously shaken. So was he, he realized. He was certainly aroused. His movements were damned awkward as he fought the tiny ribbons holding her undergarments together.

  He let out a sigh of satisfaction when he finally got rid of the last of her clothes and then roughly pulled her up against him. He lifted her up so his hard arousal could press against the junction of her thighs.

  She instinctively moved until she was cuddling him. He grunted with pleasure.

  They fell into bed together. Gabriel rolled on top of her. He braced his weight with his elbows on either side of her and leaned down to capture her mouth for a long, drugging kiss. Their tongues dueled and stroked each other; and when he finally moved to kiss a path down the side of her silky neck, he could feel her trembling with pleasure.

  She wasn't quite finished plying him with questions. She was a worrier, he supposed, and that was surely the reason she wanted a full explanation.

  "Gabriel, you really think to use your mouth to kiss me…there?"

  "Oh, yes," he whispered against her ear. His breath, so sweet and warm against her sensitive skin, made her tremble with desire.

  "Then I'm going to… you know… kiss you… there."

  He went completely still. She began to worry. A scant second later he slowly lifted his head to look at her.

  "You don't have to do anything," he told her.

  "Do you want me to?"

  "Aye."

  He'd drawled out the word, and God, he was such a sexy man. She felt as though she'd already pleased him. She reached up to stroke the side of his face. He leaned into her hand.

  He liked her to touch him. He needed her to, she realized… almost as much as she needed him now to stroke her.

  She let out a sigh and put her arms around her husband's neck. She tried to pull him down for a long kiss, but he resisted.

  "Johanna, you don't have to…"

  She smiled up at him. "I'll make you like it," she whispered.

  His head dropped to the crook in her shoulder. He leaned up, bit her earlobe, and then said, "I know I'll like it, but I don't know if you'll…"

  Now he was having trouble finishing his sentences. It was all his wife's fault. She reached down and gently stroked his arousal. He was too busy shuddering to think coherent thoughts.

  He'd been worried she wouldn't like tasting him. She started out timid, but she got over being shy soon enough and became damned enthusiastic.

  She made him crazy. His heart felt as though it had stopped when she took his arousal into her mouth. She was wild now, completely uninhibited as she stroked him with her mouth, her tongue, and dear God, she made him just as wild to please her.

  He couldn't stand the ecstasy for very long. He came before she did, but once he'd recovered from the spasms that racked his body, and he could think again, he turned his full attention to pleasuring his wife.

  Her whimpers soon turned to shouts. The intensity of her own orgasm made her forget to breathe. She demanded he stop his wonderful agony even as she clung to him and pressed herself against him in a contradictory plea for more.

  The taste of her made him hard and throbbing in scant minutes. He was suddenly desperate to be inside her. He moved, pinned her to the bed, and knelt between her thighs. His hands cupped her backside and he lifted her up at the same instant he thrust deep inside.

  He felt as though he'd died and gone to heaven. She was so damned tight, so incredibly sweet and giving, and he knew he would never be able to get enough of her.

  The bed squeaked from their forceful movements. Their breathing was harsh and choppy, and when she found fulfillment again, her scream made his ears ring.

  He was thoroughly satisfied. He collapsed on top of his wife and let out a loud groan.

  He could hear her heart hammering inside her chest. He was arrogantly pleased and satisfied. He'd made her completely forget herself.

  She'd done the same to him. He frowned over the acknowledgment. It had become impossible to distance himself from his wife, he realized. He couldn't simply make love to her and then go back to his duties and put her out of his thoughts. She had become more than simply a woman to mate with during the dark hours of the night. She was his wife, and damn it all, she was even more than that.

  She was the love of his life.

  "Hell."

  He muttered the expletive, then lifted his head to look at her. She was sound asleep. He was relieved, for he wouldn't have to explain the appalled look he was certain he had on his face or the blasphemy he'd just uttered.

  He couldn't seem to make himself leave her. He stared down at her for long minutes. She was so beautiful to him. Yet her appearance wasn't the reason he'd lost his mind and fallen in love with her, God help him. Nay, it was her character that wooed him into forgetting his shields. Looks faded with age, but the beauty in Johanna's heart and in her soul seemed to grow more wonderful with each new day.

  She'd snared him all right, blindsided him she had, and now it was too late to do anything about protecting himself from her.

  There was only one course of action left to him. Johanna was going to have to love him. By God, he wasn't about to let himself become this vulnerable without gaining equal measure.

  Gabriel felt better. The plan made sound sense to him. He wasn't certain how he'd get her to fall in love with him, but he was an intelligent man. He'd think of something.

  He leaned down, kissed her brow, and then got out of bed. Their lovemaking had worn her out, he supposed, as he reached for his plaid. That possibility made him smile until he yawned. He realized then she'd worn him out, too.

  He stared down at her all the while he dressed; and when he was finished, he took time to cover her up. Then, damned if he didn't have to kiss her one last time before he left the chamber. He was becoming appalled again by his own shameful behavior. Loving was a tricky affair, he decided. Perhaps, in time, he'd get the hang of it. He started to forcefully pull the door closed, caught himself in time, and shut it as quietly as possible.

  Hell, he was becoming considerate. He had to shake his head over that disgusting trait. He wondered what other surprises were going to come his way now that he'd acknowledged to himself the fact that he did indeed love his wife. The future worried him. If he turned into a doting husband, he swore he'd have to kill someone.

  Aye, loving was a tricky affair.

  Johanna slept through the night. Gabriel left the chamber before she awakened. She was thankful for her privacy. She felt so sick, she could barely breathe without gagging. She tried to get out of bed twice, but each time the room would begin to spin and her stomach would lurch in protest of the movement. She took deep, gulping breaths to try to calm her nausea. It didn't help. She made it over to the washstand and slapped a wet cloth against her forehead, but that didn't help either. Johanna finally quit fighting the inevitable and ended up kneeling over the chamber pot, wretching until she was certain she was going to faint again.

  While she'd been throwing up, she thought she was surely going to die; yet after she was finished, she felt surprisingly fit again. Whatever sickness had claimed her had either ended abruptly or had strange symptoms. Until she knew what was ailing her, she couldn't treat herself.

  Johanna wasn't one to pamper herself, yet she couldn't help but be worried. She'd believed her faint the night before was due to an empty stomach mixed with the unpleasant aroma of cooked meat. But she'd almost fainted again this morning and the only aroma in the chamber was the scent of the outdoors coming through the opened window.

  She tried not to think about being sick. She'd missed Mass and knew she would have to take Father aside later and explain that she'd been indisposed. The color had come back to her face by the
time she dressed. She braided her hair, straightened the chamber, and then went to look in on Clare MacKay.

  Hilda opened the door for her. Johanna smiled when she saw Clare was sitting up in bed. Her face was still horribly swollen, of course, and the left side of her face was black and blue from bruises, but her eyes looked clear, not murky, and Johanna surmised the blow to the head hadn't done irreparable damage.

  "How are you feeling this morning, Clare?" Johanna asked.

  "Better, thank you," the MacKay woman answered in a weak, pitiful voice.

  "She barely ate a morsel of the food I carried up," Hilda interjected. "Says her throat pains her too much. I'm going back to the kitchens to mix a tonic for her."

  Johanna nodded. She kept her gaze on Clare. "You're going to have to eat in order to regain your strength."

  Clare shrugged in answer. Johanna shut the door behind Hilda and went over to sit down on the side of the bed next to her patient.

  "You do want to get better, don't you?"

  Clare stared at Johanna a long minute before answering. "I suppose I'll have to," she whispered. She deliberately tried to turn the topic then. "It was good of you to take me in, Lady Johanna. I haven't properly thanked you yet. I'm most appreciative."

  "You needn't thank me," Johanna protested. "Why did you sound so sad when you said you would probably have to get better?"

  The MacKay woman didn't answer her. She was obviously nervous, for she was twisting the end of the blanket into a knot.

  "Is my father going to come here?"

  "I don't know," Johanna answered. She reached over and placed her hand on top of Clare's. "Will you be happy to see him if he does come to see you?"

  "Yes, of course," Clare rushed out.

  She didn't sound very sincere. Johanna was determined to gain some answers, but she wasn't going to demand anything from the battered woman. She would use patience and understanding. Eventually Clare would tell her why she was so worried.

  She decided to soothe her now. "You needn't be afraid, you know. You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you. After your baby's born and you've regained your strength, my husband and I will help you decide what's to be done. You may stay with us for as long as you wish. You have my word."

  Clare's eyes filled with tears. "I'm very weary now. I would like to rest."

  Johanna immediately stood up. She tucked the covers around the woman, acting like a concerned mother now. She put her hand to Clare's forehead to make certain she didn't have fever, then went over to check the pitcher to make sure her patient had enough water to drink.

  Clare appeared to be sound asleep by the time Johanna left the chamber. Hilda went back inside to take over the watch.

  Johanna tried to talk to Clare later in the morning; but as soon as she started asking questions, Clare became weary and fell asleep again.

  Megan took a turn sitting with Clare that afternoon so Hilda could supervise the preparations for dinner. Johanna thought to try and question her patient once again, but she was waylaid when her husband came striding into the great hall with his son at his side.

  Johanna had just finished removing Calum's stitches. She was trying to make him pay attention to her while she gave him instructions. He was like a fidgety child, anxious to get back outside.

  "You aren't leaving until you promise to apply this salve every morning and night for a week's time, Calum."

  "I promise," the soldier replied. He jumped to his feet and went hurrying across the room, leaving the jar of salve on the table.

  "I'm here!"

  Alex bellowed his important announcement and spread his arms wide in a gesture so dramatic his father couldn't help but smile. The boy certainly didn't have a problem with his own self-worth. Of course Gabriel had assured him several times on the way back home that Johanna was anxious to see him.

  His wife's reaction was just as amusing to Gabriel. She let out a loud gasp, picked up her skirts, and ran across the hall to greet Alex.

  The little boy threw himself into her arms. She hugged him tight. The top of his head only reached her waist. He was such an adorable little boy, and she was so happy to have him home, her eyes filled with tears.

  Gabriel left the two of them and went upstairs to try to talk to Clare MacKay once again. He was determined to find out the name of the warrior who had disgraced the woman. He also wanted to give her the news that her father would be arriving tomorrow to take her back home, providing of course that she was strong enough.

  Gabriel came back downstairs a few minutes later. Clare was still too ill to answer his questions. Why, she was so exhausted, she fell asleep a scant minute after he'd explained his reason for the audience.

  Johanna and Alex were waiting for him at the bottom of the steps.

  "Is something wrong, husband?" she asked when she spotted the frown on his face.

  "Every time I try to talk to the MacKay woman, she falls asleep. How long do you think it will be before she's strong enough to answer my questions?"

  "I don't know, Gabriel," she answered. "You saw what she looked like the day she came here. It's going to take time for her to mend. Be patient with her," she suggested with a nod. "It's a miracle she's alive."

  "I suppose it is," he agreed. "Johanna, her father's coming here tomorrow to take her back home."

  She didn't like hearing that news. She shook her head. "Clare's in no condition to go anywhere. Her father's going to have to understand."

  Gabriel wasn't in the mood to argue with his wife. The joy he'd seen on her face when Alex had run to her had filled him with such pleasure and contentment. He didn't want to mar the reunion with important talk now. Tonight would be soon enough to discuss Clare's future.

  "Why don't you take Alex outside, wife. It's too fine a day to stay inside."

  His attention was centered on his son now. Alex was holding Johanna's hand and staring up at her in true wonder. It suddenly occurred to Gabriel that the boy was in desperate need of a mother. Just as revealing was the fact that Johanna needed Alex almost as much.

  "Yes, it is a fine day," Johanna said. A look of tenderness had come into Gabriel's eyes. He was being very unguarded now. The love he felt for his son was most apparent.

  Lord, she was feeling emotional today. She knew she was about to burst into tears and turned so that her husband wouldn't see her distress. He wouldn't understand of course. Men believed women only wept when they were unhappy or in pain, or so Johanna believed, but her tears were simply an emotional response to the wonderful feeling of happiness and contentment she was feeling. God had blessed her. She was barren, yet now had a son to love. Aye, she would love Alex, for it simply wasn't possible for her to steel her heart against such an innocent child.

  "Could we go and see the horses, Mama?"

  She burst into tears. Both Gabriel and his son were horrified. "Johanna, what's wrong with you?" Her husband's concern sharpened his voice to a near bellow.

  "We don't have to see the horses," Alex blurted out, thinking he might be the cause of her distress.

  Johanna tried to regain her control. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes with the hem of her plaid before trying to explain.

  "Nothing's wrong," she told her husband. "Alex called me mama. He took me by surprise, you see, and I seem to be very emotional today."

  "Papa said I should call you mama," Alex said. "He said you'd like it."

  The little boy's face was puckered in a frown. He was obviously fretting. Johanna hurried to soothe him. "Your father was correct. You should call me mama."

  "Then why are you crying like a baby?" Alex asked.

  She smiled. "Because you make me happy," she answered. "Alex, it's too fine a day to stay inside. Let's go and see the horses."

  She tried to leave. Gabriel reached out and grabbed her by her shoulders. "First you'll tell me thank you for bringing your son home," he announced.

  He wanted praise, she supposed. "I'll thank you later, m'lord, when I'm ready."

&
nbsp; She stretched up on tiptoe and kissed him. She heard Alex make a gagging sound and burst into laughter. Gabriel smiled. He watched his wife and his son go outside. Then he followed them and stood on the top step. He continued to watch his wife and his son until they disappeared down the hill.

  "What has you smiling so, Laird?"

  Father MacKechnie climbed up the steps and stopped by his laird's side.

  "I was watching my family," Gabriel answered.

  Father MacKechnie nodded. "A handsome family you have, son. God's blessed the three of you."

  Gabriel didn't consider himself a religious man, yet he found he had to agree with the priest's evaluation. When he was young and foolish, he'd prayed for a family. Now he had Alex and Johanna to call his own. Fair was fair, he decided, and he guessed he'd have to give his Maker his due. He had answered his prayer after all.

  Johanna's laughter echoed across the courtyard then, interrupting Gabriel's thoughts. He instinctively smiled. Damn but he liked the sound of her joy.

  Johanna didn't have any idea her husband was listening to her. Alex was so filled with enthusiasm and excitement to be outside he couldn't maintain a slow pace. He ran so fast the heels of his feet smacked his backside. She could barely keep up with him.

  They spent the afternoon together. They looked over the horses first, then made their way down to the meadow to visit Auggie. The old warrior had just returned from the ridge and looked like he was in a foul mood.

  "What has you scowling, Auggie?" Johanna called out.

  Alex saw the soldier's glare and immediately edged behind Johanna's skirts.

  "It's all right, Alex," she whispered. "Auggie likes to grumble, but he has a kind heart."

  "Like Papa?"

  Johanna smiled. "Yes," she answered, thinking what a clever child Alex was. He was perceptive, too.

  Auggie waited until the pair reached him before giving an answer for his frown. "I'm ready to give up my game," he announced with a dramatic nod. "It's no use hitting the stones any distance. Most crumble from the force of the whack I give them. They splinter in the air. No point to it then, is there now? Who's that hiding behind you, peeking up at me with such wide blue eyes?"