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When You Love a Scotsman by Hannah Howell (19)

Chapter Nineteen
Sealing the envelope, Abigail sighed and fought the urge to open it again and write a new letter. Iain had drawn a beautiful picture of the baby and was working on one of Robert and Julia on the day of their marriage when they had paid for a proper picture to be taken. She believed it would be something Jeremiah would like.
Glancing at the framed photograph on the edge of the desk she sat at, she sighed. They had been so young and had looked so hopeful and happy. It made her sad to think of how the life they had wanted together had been cut short. The dress Julia had worn had easily disguised her pregnancy so there was a sweet innocence to the picture.
Shaking her head, she pushed the thoughts of her dead friend aside. There were too many who had lost their chance at a future in this war, on both sides. She could not sink herself in misery over such things.
“Are ye finished?” asked Matthew as he walked into the small room Iain kept as an office so they could keep a good record of how much money they gained from all the things his family did.
“I am. I was just looking at the picture of Robert and Julia and feeling sad, especially since we will soon start the future they were denied.”
He stepped up behind her and kissed the top of her head as he massaged her shoulders. “It is sad, but ye have given that to her son.”
We have,” she said. “This needs to be posted. And now I need to see if the others need me.” She shook her head. “I am not sure why they are doing so much work.”
“They want to.” He took the envelope from her. “I will post this and get out of everyone’s way.”
“Coward.”
“Thoroughly and nay afraid to admit it.”
Abigail laughed as he strode away then went to the kitchen where the women were busy making food for the ceremony tomorrow. “That is a lot of food. Are you sure we need so much?”
“We do,” said Mrs. O’Neal. “We will have all this crowd, the Joneses, the preacher’s family, and a few people who stayed in town, plus what few we have whom we can call neighbors.”
“Why?”
“There has been little to celebrate round here, dear. It has become almost custom to invite everyone to any kind of celebration. This one? A marriage? It is something that speaks to a lot of people, of happiness, love, and a future.” She shrugged. “It will be good for them. A happy time amidst all this killing.”
“I suppose. What can I do to help?”
“You finished that letter to the Collinses?” asked Emily.
“Yes. I forced myself not to pull it out of the envelope and try yet again. I had already tried writing it more times than I care to count and told myself that was enough. Jeremiah would be headed to school before I finished it if I didn’t stop.” She smiled faintly when David Jones’s wife, Sarah, laughed.
“Well? What shall I do?” Abbie asked again.
“Nothing. You are the guest of honor and need to rest.”
“But . . .”
“No.”
“There are a lot of nos for a guest of honor. No cooking, no laying out the tables . . .”
“No Matthew,” said Emily, and all the women laughed when Abigail scowled.
“That makes the least sense of all.”
“Makes the most sense,” said Mrs. O’Neal. “Makes the night special.”
“Or desperate,” muttered Abigail and grinned when Emily and Sarah laughed.
“Go on with you.”
She walked out, disappointed she would not be working with the others. There would be other times, she told herself. There were still four brothers left to get wives, plus her brother. There were also birthdays to celebrate and future christenings or births. The more she thought on it the better she felt. She saw Boyd talking with her brother and smiled. The MacEnroys welcomed people and Boyd was looking stronger. She prayed he would soon use that arm.
It was annoying that, only a day after she and Matthew had announced they were getting married, he had been forced out of her room. She hoped he was suffering as much as she was. Considering how they had behaved before then, she was not completely sure it was necessary, even to make the wedding night special, but Mrs. O’Neal had insisted and Abigail had quickly seen that the woman had become the matriarch of the family.
At least she had been able to make her gown, Abigail thought as she walked into the bedroom that would soon be hers and Matthew’s. She took her wedding gown out of the armoire and laid it on the bed. It was too early to go to bed so she thought she would look at it, see if there was some way to make it a little bit fancier, a touch more personal. Pulling out her sewing box, she sat down and looked through her threads. She picked out a deep red, dark blue, and some dark green before staring thoughtfully at her gown. Smiling slowly, she threaded her needle and began to make her gown just a bit more her own.
* * *
Matthew tugged at the collar of his shirt and Iain smacked his hand off it. “You are wrinkling it.”
“Where is she?”
“She is upstairs getting dressed.”
“Why is it taking so long? It is just a dress.”
“Matthew,” Iain said and shook his head. “I sometimes wonder how ye convinced that lass to marry ye. It is never just a dress.” Iain cocked his head to the side and murmured, “Ah, I hear the women. Come on, we will wait for them out back with the preacher and the others.”
Following his brother out to the back porch, Matthew looked at all the well-dressed people milling around when an arm was suddenly wrapped around his neck and he was pulled up against a tall, muscular body. Twisting his head around as much as he could, he looked into Reid’s face. The man had not come around much since he and Abbie had told him they were getting married. Seeing the hard look in Reid’s eyes, Matthew rather wished he had stayed away.
“If ye objected to the marriage, ye should have said something before now,” Matthew said.
“It is what she wants and I aren’ here to object,” he said. “Just warn.”
“I’m marrying a woman who can shoot better than I can. What need is there to warn me?”
A smiled twitched into view on Reid’s mouth, but he steadied it and scowled down at Matthew. “Don’t hurt her, don’t lie to her, and don’t break her heart.”
“Have no intention of doing so.”
Reid let go of him. “Good.”
Watching his soon-to-be brother-in-law walk away, Matthew rubbed at his throat, and shook his head. “If he thinks I would treat her badly, why did he nay protest the marriage?”
Iain shrugged. “Thinking on it. I expect the same thing to happen to me when Nuala gets of an age.”
Matthew laughed. “Whatever lad goes for her will have to be a damn brave one, since she has one father and six uncles, and a growing assortment of honorary uncles, who will all be watching him.”
Iain laughed and looked at Ned who was walking up to Noah. “And three cousins. So far. The bride will be walking in soon.” Iain watched his wife signal the preacher.
* * *
Matthew watched and then Reid led his sister in. Abigail had her hair down; long waves of silken brown hair fell down her back and rippled over the front of her simple white gown. His eyes narrowed as he spotted signs of color on the gown that had not been there before when he had snuck a peek at it in the armoire. Until he got closer to her he could not know what she had done so he studied her face.
She was a little pale, he decided. The way her fingers twisted on the stems of the flowers she held, it was clear she was a bit nervous as well. Flanking her were Mrs. O’Neal and her daughter Maeve. Behind her walked Emily. Little Nuala walked in front, or skipped, he thought. Her little hand kept up a steady rhythm of picking flower petals out of the basket and scattering them across the floor under Abbie’s feet.
Abbie finally reached the steps to the porch and Matthew stepped down to take her hand in his. He brushed a kiss over her knuckles. Around the wrist of the sleeves were bees, embroidered with the same precision she sewed the stitches into people’s skin. On each she had done one bee that looked as if it was crawling out of her sleeve to follow his brethren. Around the modest neckline of the gown was a collection of butterflies. He smiled at her.
“Ye just couldnae bear all that blank canvas, could ye? Iain is the same.”
Having Matthew compare what she did to the beautiful artistic work Iain did made her blush. “I just wanted to make it more personal to me.”
“It is lovely, but I suspect I think so because of who is wearing it.” He kissed her cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispered and then looked at Reid who stepped up by her side. “You are looking well rested.”
“I am. Feeling better in many ways. Good food and working can do wonders for the soul.”
She nodded and looked down at little Nuala who was shaking the last few flower petals out of her basket. “Thank you, Nuala. You did a very good job,” she said and smoothed her hand over the child’s curls before stepping next to Matthew when Reid answered the preacher’s question about who gives her to Matthew.
When it came time to exchange the rings, Noah stepped forward so slowly, holding out the rings that she began to think they could be standing there for an hour or more. She could feel Matthew smothering a laugh at her side. Even the preacher had to bite his lip to hide a grin. Finally, Matthew slid the ring on her finger, repeating the words the preacher gave him, and she felt tears sting her eyes as she slid a ring on his finger and repeated the words.
Matthew kissed her, a soft, gentle kiss, and she was hard put not to return a more passionate one. When she stepped back, their family and friends crowded around them hugging her and slapping Matthew on the back. Everyone offered wishes of good luck and she hoped they did not need so much. Then Reid took her by the shoulders and kissed each of her cheeks.
“Keep a tight hand on the reins, Ab,” he murmured and grinned.
“What does that mean?” she asked, but he just stepped away.
“He was just being sassy,” said Mrs. O’Neal and gave her a hug. “I love what you did with the gown. You are very good with a needle. Why is it you find it so hard to sew?”
“Mostly it is the cutting of the material I have trouble with. Mending a hole or embroidering seems simple to me. Thank you so much for taking over. I’d be getting wed in my chemise and drawers if you hadn’t helped to make it.”
“You just need some practice. I nearly burst out laughing at Noah,” she confided softly. “Adorable little man so afraid of dropping those rings.”
Matthew put his arm around her waist and tugged her up against his side. Abbie was then swept up in meeting and talking to everyone who had come. There were only a few she had not met before. The number of people living in the hills had lessened a great deal. She hoped some would come back, but the war had gone on for a long time and the anger was deep on both sides.
By the time she had been through the meal and toasts, she was feeling done with it all. She wanted to be out of the gown and somewhere quiet. Abbie understood everyone’s need for a happy time, a friendly get-together, but she just wanted to be alone with Matthew. She breathed a sigh of relief when he started their leave-taking although she did wonder where he thought they would go.
When they began to walk down the road, she frowned in confusion. “Where are we going?”
“Emily set us up a place to retreat to,” Matthew said. “She said I would know it when I saw it and she laughed.” Frowning, he added, “Not sure I trust that laugh.”
“Not sure I do either.”
They were almost to the cliffside when she saw it and started to laugh. It was a tent, one very like what the soldiers set up. It was in a small clearing opposite the cliff and river. When Matthew opened the tent flaps, they saw a large bed all ready and sprinkled with flower petals. When she sat on the bed she realized it was theirs, that somehow someone had lugged it all the way out here right after they got dressed and ready for the wedding.
“I dinnae even want to ask which of my brothers carried this all the way out here,” said Matthew as he sat beside her.
“I’m sure they will do their best to tell you.”
He laughed, put his arms around her, and fell back, taking her with him. “They will.”
Matthew kissed her and Abigail sank into his arms, returning his kiss with all the need she felt for him. He was really hers now. In her heart, she knew he was a man who would do his best to honor all the vows he had just taken. It surprised her that she took such comfort in the fact, that being married to him eased a lot of concerns she had not even understood she had held.
It was not until she pulled back from the kiss to sit by his side that she realized he had undone all the buttons on the back of her gown. Shocked, she clutched at the sagging bodice and frowned at his grin. He was becoming very nimble with buttons.
Then Matthew stood up and began to take off his clothes. The man had no modesty, she thought, unable to avert her eyes. He was so nicely put together, she decided, and sucked her breath when he shed the last of his clothes revealing that he was ready for her.
“I understood what they were trying to do when they made me leave your room,” he said as he began to strip off her clothes, “but I did not like it. Not one bit. Even if we are mad at each other over something we do not sleep apart from now on.”
“Yes, sir.” She giggled when he frowned at her then yanked her chemise off over her head.
By the time he got all her clothes off, except for her stockings again, Abigail was giggling like some little girl. He picked her up, yanked back the covers, and then tossed her down on the bed. Her laughter stopped when he sprawled on top of her, all his warm strength turning her mood from amused to amorous in a heartbeat.
Matthew kissed her and Abigail wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him to her. As they kissed she ran her hands up and down his strong back, finally settling them on his buttocks. Each time she stroked, he pushed against her. Then he kissed his way down to her breasts and the moment he closed it around the hard tip of one breast she stopped thinking.
She was so caught up in the pleasure of his kisses she did not notice the direction he was taking until she felt him kiss her on the inside of each thigh and then between. Abbie reached for his head but ended up threading her fingers in his hair as he began to use his tongue. Passion built in her with each intimate stroke and she tightened her grip on his hair to pull him away, pull him back up into her arms because she wanted him inside her.
Her release shuddered through her and she called out his name but he ignored her. He kept tormenting her until the passion began to build again. This time she called to him and he slowly returned to her arms. The cry that escaped her when he joined their bodies was one of grateful welcome. She held him tightly as he thrust inside her and she tried to meet every one with an equal strength. When her release again swept through her body he moved fast and hard several times and joined her.
After holding his forehead against hers for a moment, he rolled to the side with a soft groan. Abigail remained sprawled on her back but did tug up the covers to put over herself. She felt a strange mix of being drained of all strength and pleasantly sleepy. It was scandalous what he did, but she was sure he was not a man who did strange, uncommon things so didn’t worry on it too much. She then began to wonder if she was supposed to do the same to him. When the thought did not disgust her she decided she probably should make an effort when she regained her strength. Then he turned and, putting an arm around her waist, pulled her up against him, and she stopped wondering.
“Missed ye in the bed,” he murmured against her neck.
“And I missed you, but Mrs. O’Neal insisted.”
“I ken it and she wields a mean wooden spoon,” he said, and absently rubbed the back of his head.
Abbie laughed. “I think I might have heard that confrontation but was too tired to be certain.”
“Ye probably did as she caught me just outside the door.”
“Bad boy.” She patted his thigh. “I simply got the look and did what she said.”
“Been with the woman too long for the look to work weel on me.”
Realizing she was rubbing his thigh, she started to take her hand away only to have him hold it there. “Our first night together as man and wife.”
“Not night yet,” he mumbled, and she realized he was going to sleep.
She felt his body grow heavy and smiled as she closed her eyes. A nap sounded like a good idea to her, too. Closing her eyes, she realized she was content, satisfied to the bone with him and with life. It was a good feeling.
* * *
Abbie slowly opened her eyes and realized it was night. The light in the tent came from the moon, streaming through a small opening between the tent flaps. She saw a basket set near the side of the tent and suspected it held food, but she was not feeling very hungry at the moment.
She lightly reached down and touched herself then shook her head. At some point Matthew must have woken up and cleaned them both off. It was something he did regularly and she had never gotten up the nerve to ask why. She hoped marriage would dim that kind of reticence because she knew this aspect of marriage was important to a man and she did not wish to fail in it.
For several moments, she lay there still and breathing softly so as not to wake him. When he murmured and briefly tightened his hold on her, she waited to make sure he was not awake. Then she slid beneath the covers and down until she found him. She was not sure if she could do much when he was soft but, to her surprise, he was not.
Certain she had a few moments before he would wake and, perhaps, push her away, she took the time to explore this part of him with her fingers. His body showed its appreciation of her touch and that encouraged her. She leaned forward and kissed him. He groaned and she tensed, but then his hand slipped beneath the covers and he wound his fingers in her hair to hold her in place. Deciding that was approval, she continued until he hoarsely asked her to put her mouth on him. Cautiously she did what he asked and his reaction was all she could have wished for.
Matthew could not believe his little bride was being so daring, but he intended to take full advantage of it. He threw the covers back to look at her pleasuring him. Her hair was spread out so far there was little he could see, but he liked the feel of its silkiness brushing against his thighs. Closing his eyes, he arched up as she grew more creative and then knew he could not play this game, pleasurable as it was, for too much longer.
When Matthew grabbed her under the arms and began to pull her up, Abbie released him. He sat her on top of him and she dared to settle herself onto him. She slid down very slowly until his eyes narrowed and he grabbed her by the hips to push her into place. He slowly sat up, still holding her in place, and then kissed her. After that, Abbie did not know who took control, only that they both reached the peak they sought at the same time. When he fell back taking her with him, Abbie curled up against him and he lazily separated them.
“There is food here,” she murmured. “Over by the wall.”
Moving Abbie off of him, he walked over to pick up the basket. “Heavy.”
He sat down and started to take out two plates and two of everything else. Clutching the sheet to herself, Abbie sat up as he poured them each some cider. There were fat sandwiches and fried chicken and they both began to eat as if they were starved.
“We are being a bit piggy,” said Abbie as she picked up a napkin and wiped her mouth.
“Need the fuel for what lies ahead.”
“What do you mean?”
“It is now our wedding night and we have time to make up for.”
“I thought we’d just done that. Twice.”
“Nope. I figure we can stop and sleep at about dawn.”
She stared at him for a moment. “I think you will be on your own for the last few hours of that.” A grin tugged at her mouth when he laughed. “I actually could go to sleep now.”
“Satisfaction followed by food. Always makes one sleepy. But I will wake ye up, for a while.”
He did, and she was well satisfied with his efforts. Abbie could not stay awake any longer though and curled up beside him to go to sleep. They had years to play such games although she suspected they would enjoy them more now while still young and in good shape. She smiled as she slipped into sleep.
* * *
Matthew looked at Abbie asleep in his arms. He wrapped both arms around her and gave her a gentle hug. This was what he wanted, and he wondered why it had taken him so long to make up his mind. He had just feared the idea of marriage as he figured many men did.
No more overthinking it, he decided as he closed his eyes. This was where he wanted to be, who he wanted to be with. He already cared for the children she brought with her as well. It would be interesting to see what they produced together. He idly decided he should probably find out how she felt about having children but decided it could wait until he got a bit of rest.
* * *
After a few days they called their honeymoon, Abigail and Matthew started back. She was just about to say something when they both heard a horse coming up behind them. Matthew turned, shoving her behind him at the same time, but then he grinned.
“James! What are ye doing here?”
“You didn’t invite me to the wedding?” James attempted to look offended, but his obvious delight in finding Matthew spoiled it.
“Didnae ken where ye were.”
“Weel, we were helping them push their way through the South. It was brutal. Doc took a hit but he’ll be fine.”
“Heard that from Abbie’s brother.”
“Wondered if he got here. So, the major had the doctor sign these papers. We are all out of it. He isn’t sure we even need these but decided we should have something official in case someone demands it and thinks to pull us back in.”
“I heard it was all as good as over.”
“I think it is. But you can never be sure what some officer might get into his head, and suspect the penalties for desertion and other such things will be handed out for a while. We have been officially released. Got one for Boyd, and Dan got his. Ran right home, he did.”
“What are ye going to do?”
“No idea yet. Just meandering.”
“Weel, come meander up to my home.”
James dismounted, took his reins in hand, and walked beside Matthew. Abigail smiled faintly as the man fished for all the information he could on the area. The man might not recognize it but he was searching for a home. She recognized the signs for she had been doing the same. She had found hers.

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