Page 38 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
“Nearly there,” he soothed, as they approached a long, elevated table at the front of the great hall. “Just a few more steps.”
Keane guided her to the middle of the table, and pulling a beautifully carved throne-like chair out from under it, he gestured for her to be seated. Elsie lowered herself into it, and a second later, Keane sat beside her, once more, taking her hand in his.
Only then, did the rest of those present in the room take a seat. To Keane’s left sat Alisdair, and to her right sat Michael, whose smile lit up his face.
“Ye look breathtaking, me lady. Truly breathtaking.”
“Thank ye, Michael.”
Keane then stood and welcomed all those present. His speech sounded like it was from the heart, particularly when he introduced Elsie, eliciting a great cheer and applause from everyone in the room.
“And now, we welcome Lady Elsie tae the clan,” he declared, taking her hand and helping her to stand.
Only then, did Elsie realize that Keane had not been in possession of the stone when he arrived at her bedchamber, and she now wondered where it was. He led her back down the steps and toward the huge open hearth at the very front of the great hall. When he pulled her to his side, his hand taking hers once more, she noticed that Michael had followed them from the table, and it was he who held the stone in his hands.
“We welcome ye tae Clan Mackay, me lady,” Michael declared.
Strangely, in that moment, a rush of emotion washed over her. Perhaps it was all the nerves, and excitement, and terror, but a sudden irrational thought flew into her mind.
I should smash this stone intae the hearth after what I have been put through.
She felt Keane take a sharp intake of breath beside her, and then Michael stepped forward and held out the stone. Keane let go of her hand, and Elsie stepped forward, taking it from the older man. But when she gazed down at it, her eyes flew wide as she saw her own name perfectly carved into it.
Oh, God. I cannae believe it. He actually put me name on the stone.
So taken aback was she that she could only stand there, staring at it. The room had fallen silent, and the only sound she could hear was her rushing pulse, and the crackling fire beside her.
“Elsie,” Keane said, cutting into her daze.
“Aye?” she said, spinning toward him.
He gave her a gentle look and nodded to the fireplace. “It’s time tae place the stone on the hearth.”
“O’ course,” she breathed. And taking three small steps, she lay the stone down before the fire.
When she stood again, her heart thumping against the bones in her chest, she turned to Keane, who gazed down at her, his usual intensity missing, now replaced with a tender expression.
“Thank ye,” she breathed.
Keane stepped forward, taking her two hands in his. “Ye’re welcome,” he replied.
Caught in his dark blue eyes, like two swirling pools, beckoning her in, everything seemed to fall away, like they were the only two people in the room. Just like earlier that day in the cave, something overtook her, something enchanting and hardly real.
Keane, seemingly lost in the same moment, slowly lowered his head without taking his eyes from hers, their gaze locked, neither wanting to look away. She felt his hot breath on her cheeks, his lips only a whisper away, only this time, he didn’t stop, nor did he pull away. His mouth came down on hers, andhis lips brushed over her mouth in the lightest and tenderest touch, as though she had been kissed by an angel.
And then, the moment was broken by the great cheer and applause of all those present. All those Elsie had forgotten were even in the room.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
They were already halfway through dinner, and still, Keane could not keep his eyes off his wife. He hadn’t been able to do so since he had walked into her bedchamber earlier.
The last three days, he, his men, and Elsie had trudged across country in all weathers, not caring a wit about their appearance. Elsie had had no choice. It wasn’t like she had been given time to pack. She had nothing other than the dress he had snatched her in.
After a bath and fresh clothes, she had, indeed, looked a lot better when they had journeyed to the cave, but nothing could have prepared him for what he walked into later that evening. With a desire to tear that necklace off her, and sink his teeth into her long slender throat, followed swiftly by the urge to bury his face in the bosoms that burst from the top of her corset, his groin had ached, and his manhood had hardened instantly.
It was only as they were approaching the great hall, sensing Elsie’s terror, that he had pulled away from the fantasy of what he wanted to do to her, and remembered who he was. He was her husband, her supposed protector, the man who would kill anyone who tried to harm her. She was his now, whether she liked it or not.
Feeling her tremors and hearing her fearful thoughts, he had pulled her in closer. She had no need to be afraid. He would never let anyone harm her. Not ever. But at the hearth, panic had rushed through him, her thought piercing his mind like a knife when Michael was about to hand her the stone.
