The Chieftain Needs An Heir - A Highland Ménage Novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions) - Plot & Excerpts
He gathered her head onto his shoulder, the standard refuge he offered from her hurts, and she tucked her hand into its usual warm place under the plaid across his chest. Battlewounds did no' pain his heart as much as his crying wife, and her broken spirit cut him daily. "Dinna weep, my lass. It is good news, if ye think on it, for the Bard and his Wisewoman must have cure to offer." "It is the Bard's cure I am affeared of, Niall!" she sobbed. "Were it the Grandam Wisewoman only, she would have come to me herself with more herbs and incantations. But the Vault? And if the Bard himself has sent the Summons… and I am not to go with ye…" "It will all come right, Sorcha. Ye must learn to trust their wisdom." Wise they may be, thought Sorcha, but the strange traditions of the clan were legend and it was the Bard and his Grandam Wisewoman wife Oona in charge of their enactment. Two Yuletides had come and gone since Sorcha's glorious wedding to the chieftain of MacKrannan. Their passions had been many and wondrous since the time of their first Coupling, a witnessed event, her first insight into exactly how strange the clan's ancient customs could be. And even last eve in the secluded shadows of her bedchamber, she and her chieftain husband had enjoyed much gratifying lust.
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