A Gentle Feuding by Johanna Lindsey

  The clans, also, were bound by the marriage. The Fergussons were delighted. It was a day for great cel­ebration‑a marriage and the end of a bitter feud. For most, it was a day to be happy.

  There were, however, some who were not pleased. Those who had recently lost loved ones to the feud, for example, of whom Black Gawain was one. He re­fused to attend the wedding or the festivities that fol­lowed. His current mistress was also quite bitter. Harboring a hope that she might get Jamie back af­ter he had finished with the red‑haired Lowlander, she had stayed where she was. That was the only reason for the relationship with Black Gawain, staying at Castle Kinnion. The marriage dashed hope for Jessie.

  But Sheena was by far the most miserable. Her wedding day felt like a day of execution. Now that she had been given to the savage MacKinnion, her life became his to do with as he chose. And once his lust for her cooled? Then he would remember that she was a Fergusson, always his enemy. He would remember, and he would never let her forget. She ought to have worn black, instead of the lovely gown Lydia had worked on so hard and so swiftly. It was made of lime green silk, and the bodice had been cut with a V of white lace, the wide sleeves trimmed with white fur. She knew very well that such a spe­cial gown was meant for a special occasion. So Lydia had known all along!

  Watching her father, so pleased with himself, and her brother enjoying himself, only added to her mis­ery. Couldn’t they understand what they had done to her? Why did nobody care about her?

  And her husband? The last time she had dared glance his way, he had not looked like a newly wedded man. Was he already regretting what he had done and the finality of it?

  He got up, startling her, and walked away from the tables where the splendid feast was laid out. She was happy to see him go and considered sampling a bit of food. There was roasted venison, Highland grouse stuffed with wild cranberries in butter, smoked fish, mutton pie, stewed beef, kid, pigeons, and capons. And the sweets! Cream crowdies, ginger cakes, sugary nutmeg cakes. She would get fat, that’s what she would do. He wouldn’t want her if she was grotesquely fat.

  But Jamie didn’t go far enough away, and Sheena never filled her plate. He went to her father and had a few words with him, laughing. It stung, how glad her father was to have her wedded to The MacKin­nion.

  Jamie returned. He took her hand and forced her to rise. She looked at him questioningly, but his expression revealed nothing and he said nothing. He tugged at her, expecting her to follow. She held back.

  “You’ll be telling me where we’re going, Sir Jamie.” Her tone was obstinate.

  Jamie turned around to face her, giving her hand a sharp tug, making his point. “So you’ll be giving me trouble already?”

  “If you’ll just give me a reason why you’re taking me away . . . ?”

  “I dinna need a reason, wife. You are my wife?” He put the question coldly. “You do agree you are my wife, Sheena? Say it.”

  She looked away from the hard hazel eyes. “I agree,” she murmured.

  “I didna hear you.”

  “I agree!”

  “Then you’ll also agree I need no reason to have you follow me?” he pressed his point.

  Her head snapped up, and her eyes, deeply blue, sparked with anger. “So it’s to be that way, is it? Now you’ve got what you want, you’ve no thought for my feelings? But then, you never did.”

  Before her eyes, Jamie changed. The stiffness left him, and his expression softened. He even grinned, shamefaced.

  “I’m sorry, Sheena. There’s no excuse for my acting this way. ‘Tis just . . . och, never mind. ‘Tis for your sake we’re leaving. You’re no’ enjoying yourself.”

  “Was I supposed to?”

  “Now, lass,” he said reprovingly. “Let us have a wee bit of peace, eh? For your father’s sake at least?

  Would you have him regretting that he gave you to me?”

  “As if he would,” she said bitterly. “And what did you tell him just now?”

  “Only no’ to get himself alarmed if we dinna return for a while.”

  “A while?” The words rang ominously.

  They stared at each other. The look in Jamie’s eyes was quite clear. Sheena shook her head slowly, feeling so peculiar. Somehow she found the words to speak and even managed a calm voice.

  “We have guests. And I’ve no’ eaten yet, nor have you.”

  Jamie held up a hand to silence her. “You’ve naught to fear, and I’ll show you that. Then you can return and be at ease, and you can smile for a change. Sweet Mary, Sheena! ‘Tis your wedding day, a day to remember.”

  “I’m no’ likely to forget!” she snapped. “And as to why I canna smile, ‘tis simply that I’ve naught to smile about, being married to you.”

  Jamie was cut deeply, but he hid it well.

  “We’ll leave now, Sheena,” he said in a level tone.

  “But . . . but I’ve no’ even met your sister yet,” Sheena protested. “What will she think of me, leaving without saying hello?”

  “You have met her, Sheena. You met her and spoke no’ two words to her, though she left a sickbed to be here. What she thinks is that I’ve made the same mistake twice, for you’ve been sitting there at the table acting exactly as my first wife did on her wedding day. I’ll have no more of it.”

  Sheena was surprised. Could memories of his first wife pain him still? She had never considered that. She thought about it as they walked from the hall, up the stairs, to the door, where Jamie stopped.

  “Our chamber,” Jamie said softly as he held the door open, letting go of her at last.

  Sheena walked inside slowly. It was a large room, with a large French bed, linen sheets pulled down, large pillows fluffed. She quickly tore her eyes away from the bed. There was a standing chest for clothes, a table with stacked papers all weighted down. Across from the table was a tier of lit candles. A comfortable chair was positioned before the fire. Most intriguing was a cabinet containing exquisite glass ornaments, large and small: birds, animals, a glass boat, a bell, and many other things. Sheena had never seen the like.

  “They were my mother’s,” Jamie said. “Handed down to her by her Norman ancestors.”

  Embarrassed by her own staring, she turned away from the beautiful collection and moved to the fire. Keeping her back to Jamie, she held out her trembling hands to the flames.

  “Will you have some wine, Sheena?”

  She jumped, then glanced at him sideways. He was waiting for her answer. She nodded hesitantly and watched him pour a rich red wine into a large goblet. He brought it to her, and she took the heavy container in both hands and drank it down without once pausing to breathe.

  Jamie’s eyes were on her, slightly amused. Amusement at her expense? The wine was warming her, spreading a delicious languor. Weakness, when she had to face her enemy? She gripped the goblet, debating whether to ask for more. Would more fortify her or make her succumb? She had to get a grip on herself.

  Behind her, Jamie was in agony. Never in his whole life had he been more unsure of himself. Staring at Sheena’s stiff, unyielding back, he waited. It had to be right. It had to be perfect. From the time he’d first seen her, shrouded in mist, he had wanted her. And now she was his.

  The most beautiful, most desirable of women, and he was loathe to touch her, loathe to frighten her.

  “I’ll have more wine, Sir Jamie, if you please.”

  As she handed him the empty goblet, their eyes met. What he saw in those deep blue eyes twisted his heart.

  “Why is it you still fear me, lass? Have I no’ proved you’ve no need? I swear I’ll be more gentle than any lover you’ve had ‘afore me.”

  “I’ve had no others.”

  She didn’t say it indignantly, as she had before, just simply and quietly. Jamie caught his breath. His heart filled with sudden joy.

  “If you can say that now, when you know I’ll be finding out ‘afore we leave this room, then it must be so. Och, Sheena, you canna imagine how happy I am
to be knowing it. You canna imagine what hell I suffered when I thought Jameson‑“

  “And why should it make a difference to you, James MacKinnion?” Sheena snapped.

  “Why?” He was shocked.

  “Aye, why? You believe in handfasting and the taking of innocent lasses. How many maidens have you had and set aside without a thought to what their eventual husbands would be thinking?”

  “Enough, Sheena. I wed you thinking you had been with another, so you see it made no real differ­ence to me, but I canna deny I’m glad there’s been no other. If that makes me selfish, so I am. Here, if it will help,” he said gently, and filled her goblet.

  She looked at it and shook her head despondently. “Nay. Nothing will help except if you take pity on me and let me go.”

  “And have you live with fear even longer? I wouldna be so cruel.”

  She gasped and looked up, ready to face him, but he had set the wine aside, and his hands touched her shoulders, resting there with a gentle weight. She could feel his chest against her back. Her hair, the sides swept up to fall backward with the rest, was out of his way, and his thumbs rubbed against the curves of her neck.

  “Let me put your fears to rest, Sheena, for all time,” he breathed.

  His lips brushed the skin just below her ear, and a tingling spread down her neck and over her shoul­ders. Sheena succumbed. She tilted her neck to the side to give him more access, and his lips took com­plete advantage.

  If he hurt her, then he hurt her. But if he didn’t? How wonderful to think she might be wrong about him! How extraordinary to think she could feel something other than hate and fear.

  She was unable to dwell on the discovery, how­ever, for he caught her tightly in his arms. His lips touched hers with such incredible tenderness. It was the same as that day at the burn. Thought de­serted her, and sensation took over. She had the feeling of floating, feather‑light, supported only by his arms. Her body was soaring through the sky, soaring ....

  How long they stood there by the fire, Sheena didn’t know. She was dimly aware of a change in Jamie’s kissing, an increase in urgency. But it was only when the warm breath of the fire touched her bare skin that she became completely aware. Her gown and petticoats lay in a pile at her feet.

  She was bared to the eyes of a man—and not just any man. Bright color flooded her face and neck. She tried to cover herself, but Jamie pushed her hands away while his own circled her waist to pull her close. And then he was kissing her again, and she didn’t know whether to give in to the warmth that was rushing through her or fight to escape.

  She was still undecided when he picked her up and carried her to his bed, laying her down gently. He be­gan to remove his own clothing. She was free for the moment and had a chance to run, but Jamie sensed her thoughts, and while he caressed her with his eyes, he soothed her with words.

  “You dinna have anything to fear, Sheena. I’ll never hurt you. ‘Tis cherishing you I am. You’re more precious to me than anything I ever dreamed of. Can you no’ sense that, sweetheart? Can you no’ see I want only to make you happy? And I swear you will be happy. I swear you’ll no’ regret being my wife.”

  He knelt on the bed and bent over her, cupping her face in his large hands. “ ‘Tis too long I’ve waited for you, too long I’ve been wanting you. Just trust me a little, Sheena, ‘tis all I ask.”

  Why shouldn’t she? He was going to have her. Why not make the best of it?

  But the decision was not really Sheena’s. Her body was in control, more than willing. His lips had been warm, and soon they became hot. Her fingers tan­gled in his thick hair, pulling his head back a little, for she was afraid of the intense heat. But Jamie’s tongue was dancing circles around one taut nipple and then the other, and Sheena pressed him closer, the feeling exquisite.

  When his mouth returned to hers, Sheena re­turned his kiss so wholeheartedly that Jamie leaned back to look at her. His eyes were bright, and he smiled at her with such warmth. She smiled back, fully and freely. It was the first time she had smiled at him since learning that he was The MacKinnion. Was all forgiven? It was more than Jamie had hoped for.

  Her blood was fired. There was a need she didn’t understand, a desire to have his body closer, closer. Sheena jerked and cried out as his fingers suddenly slid between her legs. But he didn’t stop, and once the shock had passed, she didn’t want him to. His fin­gers explored, causing delightful spasms. She could have suffered that blissful torture forever. Jamie prolonged it just long enough.

  She would never be more ready for him than she was then, and he knew it. His change in position was swift and, before she knew what he was doing, he plunged into her. Sheena caught her breath. Then she sighed. She had expected pain, much worse pain, not that tiny tearing that was soon forgotten. How kind of him to have done it quickly, making it much easier. She felt only a fullness now, deep inside her. He didn’t move, and she couldn’t guess why he was so still.

  Jamie was silently waiting for her accusations to start. How he had hated hurting her! If only she would say something, curse him.

  She did speak, with her body. Sheena instinctively understood how she needed Jamie. She moved under him, forcing him out of her, then moved her hips up­ward to take him back, taking him whole.

  Jamie shuddered in relief and delight. His hands gripped the sides of her head, holding her still for a kiss. While his lips plundered the sweetness of her mouth, his hard member explored the warmth envel­oping him. He had never felt so strong, so masterful, so enthralled. He drifted into the mist where he had first seen her, floating ever closer to her, intoxicated by her feel, her scent, her warmth.

  If Jamie was in awe, Sheena was in shock. Each thrust of Jamie’s powerful body brought her to a higher plane. She had felt a rush of blood through her body before, but now there was a flood, all di­rected to the small area that was on fire. But the flood didn’t put out the flame. It nourished the fire instead, gathering there, every part of her swirling round and round that fire.

  She knew she couldn’t contain it. Too great an in­tensity was building. It was going to kill her, explode and shatter her to pieces. She couldn’t possibly sur­vive this.

  The moment was at hand, and Sheena knew it. But instead of her life flashing before her eyes, she saw only Jamie’s face in her mind’s eye, that hand­some face grinning with a secret knowledge that she understood at last. The floodgates burst, and Sheena screamed, but the scream was smothered by Jamie’s ravenous lips. There was no end to the waves wash­ing over her, pulsing against every nerve. She heard him moan, knew he was dying the same sweet death. They plunged downward together.

  He was so still, so heavy. She floated high above him, gliding ever so slowly, dreamlike, delighting in her new world, the peace of it, the warmth, the delicious movement of his lips?

  Her eyes opened a little. He was looking at her, too, his hazel eyes a warm gray‑green. He was still holding her head, his thumbs moving softly on her cheeks. His lips touched hers with a feather‑light movement she wasn’t sure she felt. He kissed her chin, her cheeks, her eyes. He leaned back to look at every bit of her face, and a smile curled his lips, a smile of utter contentment. If he were a cat, she thought, he’d be purring.

  Sheena’s eyes were round with wonder. “I’m see­ing you, James MacKinnion! You’re real, then?” she gasped. “I’m no’ dead?”

  His smile widened. “I dinna think so, sweet­heart.”

  “But I thought . . .” Bright color washed her cheeks. “How foolish of me!” She thought a moment, then rushed on, not quite meeting his gaze.

  “ ‘Tis just . . . I never knew what it would be like, Jamie. I knew there would be pain at first, I did know that. But the rest . . .” She lowered her eyes, willing to admit everything, yet still just a little em­barrassed with this new intimacy. “No one could have prepared me for it,” she continued, awed. “I was frightened by the intense feelings, since I didna know to what end they would bring me. And when they
increased, I knew there would be an explosion. I feared the worst. I thought I would surely die, yet I wouldna have stopped you for the world.”

  Hesitantly, she looked up, meeting his eyes again. He was not looking at her with triumph. Pride, aye, but not a conquering pride. The look in his eyes spread a warmth through Sheena that surprised her. Tenderness? Maybe even . . . love?

  “You’re no’ alone in what you felt, Sheena,” he murmured softly. “I canna say I’ve no’ been plea­sured ‘afore, but never like this. In all the years since I’ve called myself a man, I never felt anything to compare. I knew, somehow, it would be this way with you. I always knew.”

  “You could’ve told me,” she chided.

  “Would you have believed me?”

  “Nay,” she answered simply. “Will it always be so, Jamie?”

  “For us it will, I do believe so.”

  She giggled, squeezing him. She was happy, sur­prisingly, amazingly, happy. Who would have thought it possible?

  “Nay, Jamie,” she teased with a sigh. “I dinna think it can ever again be like this first time. But we can try to make it so. Often, eh?”

  He laughed deeply, kissed her soundly, and laughed again. “By the saints, you’re a jewel, Sheena. And to think I feared you might be like my first wife. What a fool I was! I ought to’ve known better.”

  Sheena confessed, “I had crazy thoughts when the fire was in me, and no’ just of myself dying. I thought you were the devil, and no mistake. I also thought. . .” She stopped.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nay. I’ll no’ repeat those thoughts.”

  “Och, but you will. You’ve got my curiosity riled,” he said lightly.

  “You’ll be angry, Jamie, and I dinna want to spoil‑“ .

  “As if you could,” he interrupted with a grin. “There’s nothing you could say to make me angry at this moment. But never fear making me angry, sweetheart. I do have a temper, as you can attest. You’ll see it no doubt, time and again, but I’ll never harm you, I swear.” She still hesitated, and he added, “Come now, lass. You must learn to trust me.”