The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,37

pursed. “Ye truly are fully grown, are ye no’ Cora? The woman in ye understands that while ye were born with position, to keep it, ye can nae be too picky about who yer bridegroom is.”

Noreen laughed softly. The women at her back joining her. It wasn’t a good-natured sound. No, it was husky and full of luscious knowledge.

“Faolan will be far better than most brides get!” one of the older women muttered suggestively.

“No doubt ye won’t have to worry about spending too much effort to stroke up his member,” another added with a wink.

“A man like him will put ye on yer back the moment he has the blessing of the Church!”

For all that Cora had considered her brothers Retainer’s to be rough in their speech, she discovered her face flushing as the comments continued to come.

“He’ll ride ye more than once a night to be sure.”

“The winter will be a warm one…with him in yer bed!”

“Best make sure the bed ropes are newly strung, else ye end on the floor in the dark hours of the night!”

Noreen finally raised her hand. Her women fell silent instantly. But there were still smirks being sent toward Cora, confirming that none of them felt any shame.

“Do ye have any…questions, Cora? Before I take ye down to yer groom?” Noreen asked pointedly.

Cora felt like her cheeks were on fire, but at least it burned away the fog which had been crippling her mind.

“Why would ye ask me if I have questions since ye made a point of forcing this wedding on me because ye seem to believe Faolan has already had me?”

Noreen wasn’t shamed by the question. She merely fluttered her eyelashes. “Ye are a woman and yet, still so naïve, Cora. Weddings for women such as us are about dowries and position. How could ye think I’d be foolish enough to allow ye to leave McKay land now that ye are here and me husband has an unwed brother?”

Cora felt her temper simmer. Noreen let out a little amused sound.

“Do nae be so cross with me, Cora.” Noreen ventured closer and took her hand. “Faolan or Cormac Grant or another son of the highlands…what does it matter except that ye are wed to a man with a good position? The McKay are a fine clan to be joined with, and it is more than time ye married. Stop acting like such a child. Ye’re a woman fully grown. Ye need only mind me as yer mistress. Yer lot might be far worse if Cormac breaks the arrangement with ye and yer brother finds ye a third or fourth son to wed. Yer reputation has spread far and wide as being unruly. Do ye truly think ye will catch someone better after riding rough with Retainers across the moors?”

Noreen had a point.

Cora wasn’t blind to it. Something new stirred inside her. A sense of anticipation that was really quite pleasant.

Almost exciting, really.

Noreen offered her one last smile before she was guiding her toward the door.

Cora went willingly.

After the first step, she found the second one easier and the third even more so. Confidence was building inside her. Perhaps Fate had brought her to Faolan. Oh, yes, he was stubborn when it came to doing what he thought was best. Her cheeks remained hot as the memory of him tossing her over his shoulder surfaced.

But he’d called her tempting.

Was she?

It was an honest question, for even if she was pitifully ugly, no one on Mackenzie land would have dared to tell her so. Suddenly the dress was something she enjoyed wearing. The heat warming her cheeks was due to anticipation, and her breath caught as she made it to the bottom of the tower.

It was her wedding day.

Or night as things were.

The passageway was illuminated by candles. Such was an extravagance, but it drove home how much the McKay wanted to secure her. They’d rather have a midnight wedding instead of risking waiting until daylight and the possibility that her brother’s men might arrive. By all rights, she should have been terrified by the lack of contracts.

But she had contracts that were sealed and witnessed with Cormac Grant, and those parchments wouldn’t protect her from a groom who treated her roughly.

Faolan wouldn’t hurt her.

That one certainty kept Cora moving. Perhaps it was foolish to trust so blindly, for she hardly knew the man.

She knew less of Cormac Grant, though. To her betrothed, she was not even worth the time to stand in a