Clearly aware of the event’s importance, Erland had cleaned his boots, combed his long hair and shaved with a borrowed razor. He had found the largest plaid available and, with her brother’s help, had pleated it into a kilt and wore it belted atop immaculate linen borrowed from her da. The shirt almost fit, Da having gained more than a little weight as he’d aged.
Everyone had washed and was clad in their best. She’d done her part, choosing her finest cyrtel for the event. ’Twas fashioned of a soft red wool that looked especially well with her dark hair and eyes.
Erland looked down, caught her glance and smiled gently, in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion. She smiled back, her heart warmed, her pride swelling. Her man was an unexpected treasure. He’d already shown he could defend as well as love her. And he’d managed to get on with Da and Keith, despite his Viking heritage.
What would their bairns be like? Though she was still a mite sore, she could scarce wait to have Erland again and begin their new life.
How everything had changed in less than a day! She found it hard to remember she’d been willing to die rather than be joined to a man she detested. Indeed, she had promised herself she’d never wed, would never allow herself to be used as a pawn in her da’s schemes.
And she hadna. Fate had chosen her man. But how she had fallen so swiftly for Erland?
She wrenched her mind away from her stray, tumbling thoughts when Da wrapped a swatch of Kilbirnie plaid around their crossed wrists, joining them.
They kissed but briefly, with Rhona mindful of her da and brother watching.
The onlookers’ cheers bounced off the hall’s stone walls before everyone broke ranks to hug her and Erland. He looked a bit startled before he accepted the clan’s embrace.
She hoped that amity would continue. Scots and Vikings were fierce enemies, due to the Northmen’s frequent raids. Though the Kilbirnie clan was small and their lands lay in the south and west of Scotland—farther away from Scandinavia—they nevertheless lived in fear of the raiders. The Vikings dominated the islands to the west and north and were a force to be reckoned with.
She shunted all that aside to enjoy her wedding feast. Da had ordered a young sheep, one of the lambs born the previous spring, slaughtered so they ate it roasted with a sauce made of berries and rosemary along with wheat boiled in broth and some haggis. Roasted rabbit and fish from the chilly ponds rounded out the meal, with both a sweet and a savory custard ending all. Everyone noisily crowded around the tables to share the bounty.
Stuffed to somnolence and drowsy from ale, Da snored in his big chair near the fireplace. She cast a glance at her husband, who sat next to her. Erland sat placidly, saying little, then shifted so his side touched hers.
She shivered, that slight contact bringing waves of desire despite her tender quim. Would she be able to have him again tonight? She hoped so. ’Twould be a poor wedding night without lovemaking.
Keith approached, sat on a bench nearby and plunked his mug of ale onto the table. “What noo?” he asked Erland.
Erland eyed him, then Rhona. “A man doesn’t discuss such matters.”
Keith reddened. “I didna mean this night. I meant...in general.”
Her husband cocked his head and glanced at her. For the first time since they’d met, he looked uncertain. He said, “I would take you to see my home.”
“I thought ’twas far to the north.” She leaned against him, glorying in the feeling of being his wife.
“Aye, but...methinks staying too long could cause trouble.” He fixed Keith with a knowing gaze. “I am a Viking in your lands.”
She stirred. “I mislike the idea of living in the dark, cold north. Canna we stay in Scotland? They say in the Highlands many places are without lairds or headmen.”
“Hmm.” He took her hand. “’Twould be exciting, building a new clan. Yes, let’s!”
Epilogue
Kilborn Keep, northwest Highlands, five years later
“Killian!” Rhona grabbed the toddler, who had climbed up to a window embrasure and had been trying to squeeze out the arrow-slit. The skinny bairn was thin enough, she reckoned, that he could slip through and fall to his death below on the treacherous cliffs guarding their hold.
Erland entered, asking, “What’s he done now?”
“The usual.” She set him on the stone floor.
Erland eyed the arrow-slit and then Killian, who grinned back cheekily. Hand-in-hand, she and her husband peered out the window. In the bailey below, clansmen scurried hither and yon, preparing for the Yule feast.
Many were black-haired and unusually pale of skin, Erland’s relatives from the far north. She’d oft wondered about their peculiar traits. They shared her husband’s immense strength, hewing and carrying the great blocks that formed their keep with ease. Their skin was cold even in midsummer. And according to whispers and giggles from the clanswomen, they also enjoyed little sips of blood while lovemaking.
She shrugged, dismissing her concern. She hadna cause for complaint. Vikings were different—everyone knew that. Their northern cousins were true, loyal and hard-working. All wore the Kilbirnie tartan but now called themselves “Kilborn,” both to honor her birth-clan and to differentiate themselves.
“We’ve done well, my wife.” Erland picked up Killian and cradled him against one brawny shoulder. “We’ve stores enough to last this winter and celebrate this Yule.”
“And next year, we will do better. Look!” Rhona pointed. Below in the courtyard, two big-bellied women hung linens to dry.
“Aye. Our little clan increases.”
“It does, milaird.”
“Milaird. I like the sound of that. With luck, there’ll be a Laird Kilborn in this castle forever.”
Rhona rubbed Killian’s head. “Forever.”
If you loved this story, find more Highland Vampire tales here:
https://www.suzdemello.com/highlandvampireseries.html
About the Author
Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written nineteen books in several genres, including non-fiction, memoir, romance, erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories, box set anthologies, and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s held the positions of managing editor and senior editor, working for several publishers including Totally Bound and Ai Press. She also takes private clients.
Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.
A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.
Check out Suzie's site: https://www.suzdemello.com
And her blog: https://www.TheVelvetLair.com
Contact her by email: suzdemello@gmail.com
Or through her Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/SuzDeMello
She tweets @suzdemello
Books and Stories by Suz deMello
Novels
Phoenix and Dragon
Seducing the Hermit
The Wilder Brother
Queen’s Quest
Walk Like A Man
Fashion Victim
Short Stories
Sherlock’s Scandal
Blood is Thicker...
For My Master
Gypsy Witch
Kinky Toes
Spring Training
Ocean Dreams
One Hot Havana Night
Naughty Balls
The Romantical Groom
The Moon Maiden’s Mate
The Highland Vampire series
Viking in Tartan (short story)
Temptation in Tartan
Desire in Tartan
Bridling his Vampire
Rakes in Tartan
Highland Vampire (short story)
Non-fiction
Perilous Play (fictionalized memoir)
About Writing
Anthologies
Naughty List
Naughty Hearts
Naughty Flings
Naughty Escapes
Naughty Reunions
Naughty Chances
The Book Boyfriends Café Summer Lovin’
What to Read After Fifty Shades of Grey: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 8)
PUBLISHED AS SUE SWIFT
Lord Devere’s Ward
His Baby, Her Heart
The Ranger and the Rescue
In the Sheikh’s Arms
Engaged to the Sheik
Sherry, Baby
Big Girls Don’t Cry
Spy Game
Puckheads
The Legal Stuff
Copyright 2014-2016 by S. F. Swift/Suz deMello
ISBN 9781310851957
Cover by Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs
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