“Lord Hugh,” Colin said formally, turning to the priest who was standing quietly beside Edmund. “I have the rare honor of introducing a celebrity to you.”
“Celebrity!” Lord Hugh exploded. He knew of the identity of the newcomer from Edmund. “You cannot mean this poor excuse of a half-pint priest hiding here. Not this slow-witted, Lowland court parasite who takes every opportunity to slander the good names of every Highland clan in Scotland.”
“Aye, Father,” Colin replied, watching as the priest's temper was about to boil over. “This is William Dunbar.”
“Then welcome to Kildalton Castle,” Hugh thundered warmly, taking the shaken cleric by the shoulders.
“Thank you for your well-spoken words of welcome, m'lord,” Father William responded, eyeing the huge laird warily. “I can see that the Campbell name will no doubt find immortality in the works of some poor poet.”
“Are you suggesting, priest,” Hugh said threateningly, but with sidelong wink at Celia, “that we're to be your next victims?”
“Aye, m'lord,” Dunbar smiled matter-of-factly.
“Very well,” Hugh said, clapping the priest on the back. “Then we'll have a lively Easter celebration after all. Welcome to our home.”
Climbing out of one of the small boats that carried them to the dock, Celia was nearly overwhelmed by the men wishing to help her. She was growing more exhausted by the moment, and her head was again throbbing painfully, but she wearily set her mind to the task of climbing the stone-paved road through the village to the castle.
Seeing the crowds that had filled the dockside and the Marketcross, she was thinking how different things could be now for the people who lived in the shadow of Argyll's castle. Their lives would be so much better if Argyll would stay away and leave them in peace.
The question of him returning could be resolved very shortly, she thought. He clearly doesn't know Danvers very well. Argyll had planned to force Celia to marry him. Danvers is insane. If that marriage had ever taken place, the earl would have been as good as dead. If Danvers ever gets wind of his plan, he could end up dead anyway.
As thoughts of the evil Danvers started pounding in her brain, her head began to swim, and Celia put out her hand to steady herself on Edmund's arm.
The next thing she knew, Celia was cradled in Colin's arms, and she could see the walls of Kildalton Castle looming ahead of them. He was carrying her without any effort at all. Edmund, Hugh, and the others were fluttering around them, cackling like old hens. She could see concern etched in their faces. But they all seemed relieved at the sight of her regaining consciousness.
“Colin, put me down,” she demanded, struggling weakly against him. “I can walk perfectly well myself.”
“Is that so?” he said soothingly, holding her tighter against his broad chest. “It must have been someone else who fainted in the Marketcross, then.”
“I really didn't faint,” she said, knowing that she really had. “I just needed to get my land legs, that's all.”
“Oh, land legs.” Colin laughed. “And then, I suppose, you just thought you'd take a short nap.”
“That's right,” she responded, snuggling against his shoulder. “And I feel perfectly well rested now. So you can put me down.”
“Nay.”
“Why not?” Celia asked, raising her head and looking into his eyes.
“Because I'm enjoying this,” Colin responded. “Put your head back down.”
“Why?”
“Because this is the first moment I've had alone with you since we left Argyll. Because I....Stop asking so many questions.” He glared threateningly.
Celia lifted her arms up around his neck and nestled her face against his skin. “Please put me down,” she cooed.
“Forget it,” Colin replied, smiling. “The next time you put your feet on the ground will be tomorrow morning.”
“You just think you can bully me because I took a few hits in the head,” she whispered lazily.
“Bullying you?” Colin laughed softly. “Now that's an idea worth considering.”
“You wouldn't dare,” she flared, raising her head again and looking into his face.
“I would, too,” he said, smiling.
“You would what?” This was getting confusing.
“Bully you into picking up where we left off this morning,” Colin whispered softly, nuzzling her face with his own.
“Colin, shush!” she whispered forcefully, taking hold of his jaw with her hand.
Celia raised herself in Colin's arms and glanced around, mildly fearful that someone might have heard his words. But the others had fallen back a few paces, and no one seemed to be in hearing range. Also, the darkness of the night had separated them somewhat from the rest of the group.
As Celia's face returned to Colin, his mouth descended on hers so quickly that she never had a chance to object. He just wanted a taste, but her reaction to his simple kiss drove him wild with desire. Her hands gripped the back of his neck pulling his head down lower as her mouth reached up more fully under his. Celia's mouth opened under the pressure from Colin's searching tongue. They kissed, deeply, intimately, then they both pulled back. They each knew they had to stop.
“I do not have to bully you,” he whispered, gripping her hard against his chest as they walked across the drawbridge into the castle courtyard. “All I have to do is kiss you.”
“I do like the way you kiss me,” Celia murmured, nestling her head back down on Colin's shoulder. She could feel her heartbeat matching his.
“You'll like the rest, too, my love,” he whispered, resting his chin lightly on her bandaged head.
Agnes must have been standing watch for the group, because they hadn't even reached the front stairs when she dashed out to them. If Celia had thought that the men fussed a lot over her injury, she hadn't seen anything yet. Agnes had Colin take Celia straight up to her room, while all along the way scolding him for his selfishness in taking the young woman along on the Argyll trip, exposing her to all that danger. When Celia tried to interrupt in Colin's defense, he just stopped her with a wink and a smile.
Agnes pushed open the door to Celia's room, and Colin carried her directly to her bed and deposited her there.
But as soon as she was placed on the bed, Celia looked over at the open door into Kit's and Ellen's room. Immediately she rolled off the bed and disappeared into the darkened chamber.
Ellen was sitting in the only chair in the room, and Kit was asleep at her breast. Her eyes glowed with happiness at seeing Celia, but looked with concern at the wrapping around her head. Celia went to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, caressing Kit's hair and cheek lightly with her free hand.
“How is he doing?” Celia whispered.
“He's as strong as ever,” Ellen replied softly. “I was just going to put him in his cradle.”
Celia took the baby out of Ellen's arms and placed him over her shoulder. She had really missed him, in spite of all the excitement. She laid him gently in the cradle and covered him with the soft blanket. Quietly she smiled at Ellen and tiptoed to the door.
Ellen followed her into the other room, leaving the door open on the sleeping Kit.
“M'lady,” she said, startled at the bloody condition of the bandages around Celia's head. She had not seen them clearly in the darkness of the baby's room. “Are you all right?”
“Of course she is,” Colin responded, leaning solidly against the hearth. “She was just looking for a way to avoid walking up from the village.”
“Now, Colin,” Agnes scolded. “If you aren't going to be nice to her—”
“Nice?” Colin argued, never taking his eyes off Celia. “I've just carried her up from the harbor. And she squirmed like a fish for more than half of the way.”
“Out you go,” Agnes ordered, pushing the giant warrior toward the door.
“I'm going under protest, Celia, but I'll be back,” Colin said over Agnes's head, as she shoved him right out into the hallway.
“Men! Really!” Agnes exclaimed, returning with a smile on her face. “Although it does sound as if you and Colin got some time to speak with each other. Well, never mind. Ellen, help Celia get out of those filthy clothes. I've got a nice hot bath ready for you, my dear. And while you're soaking, I'll look at your wounds.”
Celia sat up in the bed. Agnes had, indeed, prepared a bath for her in front of a roaring fire. But that was not all. While Celia had been away, Agnes had moved furniture into the room: a table covered with beautifully embroidered linen and a bowl of assorted fruits to go with the dinner that was laid out for her, several large chairs with silk-covered pillows, and a second large clothing chest. The chest stood with the other by the wall to Ellen's room, and they were both open, revealing an array of clothes that Agnes had selected for her.
Celia also noted with amusement that none of the new furniture in any way blocked the panel.
“Agnes,” she said warmly. “This room is beautiful. It feels like home.”
“I'd so hoped that you would like it.”
“Like it? I adore it,” Celia said. “But, Agnes, please do not make such a fuss over me. I'd really much rather be a help to you somehow.”
“Celia, that's what I knew you'd say,” Agnes responded with open delight. “My dear, it's high time you did make yourself at home. And if you feel up to it tomorrow, we'll start.”