Page 97 of Laird of Twilight
James held the candle high and went to a shadowed corner of the cave. “There is another space here,” he said, as his reaching hand and arm disappeared into a crevice. Turning sideways, he slid into the darkness, the candle’s glow blooming on rocky walls.
“James!” Elspeth followed, not eager to be alone. The dread feeling was still with her. Yet she and James had made a promise between them that warmed her heart, made her feel safe. Nothing could harm her, or either of them. She had to trust in that. Where he went, she would call up courage and go too.
She slid easily through the narrow cleft, following the light of the candle, and looked around. This space was more like a narrow passageway in the rock, and the shadows dissolved into pure blackness beyond. From somewhere, she heard the faint drip of water.
“A channel through the rock. A subterranean passage.” James moved cautiously to follow the curve in the walls, stooping and crouching to examine the character of the rock. He pulled a small chisel from a pocket and pounded at a section of the wall, the sound echoing as something broke away. He extended his hand, showing a chunk of dull stone.
“What is that?” she asked. He turned it in his palm and shone the candlelight on it, revealing a green glow inside the husk of rock.
“Agate,” he said. “Not your blue sort, but nonetheless an excellent find.”
She had hoped, however foolishly, for treasure. “How good for your work!”
“It is. I will need to return here to make detailed notes and pick up samples. Caves and channels like this can run in clusters, but I am not sure yet if this leads anywhere. I can see agate and common quartz, but little else. I doubt the smugglers have even been back here. It would be of little use to them.”
She turned slowly. “It might be a good place to hide something.”
“Aye, but there is nothing here. I wish it were otherwise, for your sake and for Donal. I know how much you want to find the treasure.”
Elspeth sighed in disappointment. “Perhaps we never will.”
He put an arm around her shoulders. “It was worth it to come up here. We are handfasted because of it, after all.”
She smiled in the darkness. “That is worth more than agates and granite layers. And worth more to me than treasure.”
“It is indeed.” He kissed her hair. “I know you hoped to find something more.”
“A bit,” she confessed. She felt elated over the marriage—had no more doubt or fear—but she still felt an ominous awareness that her birthday was approaching, and Donal had warned of the trouble it could bring, “Could we go back now?”
“No one expects us for a while yet,” he murmured, pulling her close. “We are nicely alone here. Let us enjoy that.” He set the candle on a natural niche in the rock, then took her in his arms, skimming his hands downward, raising delicious shivers in her. Resting her hands on his chest, she felt her heartbeat quicken, felt a tender pulsing inside.
“No smugglers. No treasure,” she said. “No fairies.” She hoped that was so.
“Only the beautiful one in my arms,” James whispered. The velvety sound of his voice thrilled through her. She laughed quietly, pressing into his arms as he kissed her, deep and lingering. Whisky flavored the kiss, sweetened it with fire.
Elspeth drew in a soft breath as he began to unbutton her jacket downward, hands grazing over her breasts. As the cloth opened, she shivered in the chill air, but his kisses warmed, and his touch teased at the neckline of her gown where her lace-edged shift peeked. She had not worn a corset that day to allow for more freedom while hill-walking, and she felt glad of it again. James traced his fingers over her collarbones, brushed lower.
Spreading her hand on his chest, she felt his heartbeat beneath her fingers, running fast as thunder. He drew her into his embrace, turning her so that her shoulders braced against the rock wall, immersing her in a richness of kisses and touches.
“I am not done treasure hunting, are you?” he asked in a husky whisper, nuzzling his lips over her cheek. She felt sultry, warmed, blushing all over.
“Not yet,” she whispered. “James—did you know that handfasting is legal, but no more binding in Scotland than an engagement—unless it is consummated?”
“I did not know that,” he murmured against her lips. “We had best make this legal, then, if you are sure—”
“I am certain,” she murmured, as his lips touched her ear. She moaned.
“It feels almost as if time has slowed inside this place, do you feel it?” he asked against her mouth, her cheek.
She closed her eyes, nodded. She did feel it—magic or desire, she sensed it like a leisurely stretching of time, nothing needing attention, her wish to leave this place somehow suspended. She wanted to let the fear go and just trust. Trust James, trust life. Once she left this magical place, the dread might return, but for now she was glad it had eased.
“Time is ours here,” she said. “Hush.”
As he kissed her again, thought vanished like shadows before light. She accepted, sighed, returned with fervor, feeling so good, so safe here with him. Loved and cherished, body and soul. Time dissolved, and passion warmed them.
His lips traced downward, and she felt tenderness and desire burgeoning so strongly in her that her limbs trembled, her knees sank. James lifted her in his arms then and brought her out of the narrow channel and into the middle cavern. There, he sank with her to the stack of plaids and blankets there. She tumbled the blankets around them, under them, and James sank down with her, stretched out, his hard muscular body pressing against her own, urgent with passion now.
He kissed her, gliding his fingers over her throat and chest. Her heart leaped. She arched, hungry for more, savoring the supple, grazing touch of tongue and fingertips. Her breath caught, heart pounded as he began to snug her bodice downward, his hands gentle, his kisses compelling, raising desire like lightning, like magic, all through her.
