Chapter 22

Hawthornden Castle, Lothian

They reached Hawthornden as darkness was falling, so Sorcha gained no real view of the landscape thereabouts, or of the castle itself for that matter, except as a hulking mass of stone atop its high crag. But she did not care. Her only thoughts were for Hugo.

When they entered the hall, Hugo ordered supper for them and told the gillie to bring claret at once. "I would toast my bride," he said.

As the lad ran to do his bidding, Sorcha said, laughing, "Sakes, sir, you've dismayed him. Indeed, you've dismayed me. Are we truly married?"

"Aye, sweetheart, so you will have to obey me now," he said as he guided her to a chair at the high table.

Sitting, she said, "I do not recall pronouncing any such vow, sir."

He chuckled. "Then I shall have to persuade you."

"How?" she asked.

His expression sobered, and he sat down beside her. "What do you know about the duties and pleasures of marriage?" he asked.

"Only that I shall be your wife and have duties to look after servants and such," she admitted. "But I know that Isobel loves being married to Michael, and I certainly expect to enjoy being married to you. I want to bear your children, sir. You will teach me what I need to know, won't you?"

"Aye, lass, I'll teach you; I'll teach you all I know," he said, smiling again.

"Do you know so much, then?"

His eyes twinkled, but he said only, "Ah, here's our wine now." Taking the jug from the gillie, he poured wine into her goblet and handed it to her.

She sipped, watching him pour his own and thinking that Adela was crazy to prefer Ardelve. That thought stirred another, and putting down her goblet, she exclaimed, "We never told Adela that Waldron is dead! We should have, Hugo. She would feel much safer, knowing."

"Nay, lass, we'll let Ardelve do that," he said. "She will need him when she learns that Waldron is gone. It was not to save me that she flung herself between us. Nor was he thinking of me when he lowered his guard to push her away."

"But she cannot have loved him!"

"I don't know what she felt for him," Hugo said. "But it was strong enough to fling her into the path of a sword that would have sped him to hell. Passion like that does not just vanish. It will take time for her to get over what happened to her. Drink your wine now. I'm not sure I want to wait for supper."

They did but hurried through it. He kept looking at her, and whenever he did, it was as if he kissed her. Heat surged through her.

His voice was husky when he said, "Come upstairs now, sweetheart."

She felt suddenly shy. "Do you know, sir, had anyone told me I'd marry a man I had known only six days, I'd never have believed it."

He shook his head, "Women often marry men they have never seen before, men they know nothing about, just because their fathers arrange it for them."

"Aye, well, I knew I did not want that," Sorcha said. "My sister Cristina married at Father's command, and Hector did not even want her. I would have run away had Father tried to do that to me."

"You did run away," he reminded her, adding as he opened a door, "This is my bedchamber."

Inside, someone had lit cressets and a fire on the hearth, and a ewer of hot water waited on the washstand. But it was the bed that drew Sorcha's attention. It was an ordinary bed, but it was Hugo's, and he meant to share it with her.

She trembled, wondering if she would know what to do, wondering if she would please him, if she would like marriage as much as she hoped to like it.

He stood before her, his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Art willing, sweetheart? I want you to enjoy coupling with me."

"Aye, sir," she said. But her palms felt damp. "Are you really going to take away my clothes for three whole days?"

"Not if you don't want me to," he said, pulling her closer to kiss her. "I did not tell Isobel, but my sister Kate left dresses here that I'm sure will fit you. You'll like Kate, I think, and Meg, come to that. I don't know about Eliza. She is as temperamental as you are, and she is older than I am."

"Aged and decrepit then," she said.

"Ah, lassie, I cannot wait any longer," he said, pulling her to him.

His hands moved over her body as his lips captured hers, and she responded to him with an abandon that astonished her. She had no more qualms and no inhibitions. She wanted to learn how to please him, and he clearly was willing to take his time to please her and show her how to enjoy this intriguing new pastime.

He had the wool surcoat off her and on the floor in a trice, and the kirtle followed swiftly, falling in a pool of silk at her feet. But when she stood before him in her shift, he said suddenly, "You'll grow cold again, lass. Let's get you into bed."

Without waiting for a response, he picked her up and carried her there. As he tucked the coverlet up to her chin and turned to add fuel to the fire, she watched him with a loving smile but thinking that she would have to teach him not to make all her decisions for her. Heaven knew, that would never do.

When he returned to the bed, stripped off his clothes, and climbed in beside her, she forgot everything except what he could teach her.

She still trembled at his touch, but as his hands moved lightly over her body, caressing her, she began to calm and then to stir in new and delightful ways.

His body was so warm against hers that it was like having a fire right there in the bed. His touch ignited her senses, and the joy she felt at being alone with him so was unspeakable.

His lips possessed hers and his tongue quickly penetrated her mouth. She welcomed it and teased it with her own, playing lightly with him, wondering what he would do next.

Hugo could not believe the soft silkiness of her skin. His hands moved all over her, delighting in its smooth texture as he kissed her. As one hand moved to cup and stroke one soft breast and then the other, he shifted his position slightly to watch his thumb tease a nipple. Then with a last, lingering kiss for her lips and another for her neck, he shifted lower to capture that nipple with his mouth.

She arched her back in response to his continuing caresses, and as she did, his right hand moved lower to the joining of her thighs. Heat seemed to radiate from every place he touched her, but especially there. With a finger, he gently parted the lips there and although she gasped again and tensed, she did not object.

She was breathing heavily, and with his right ear so near her chest, he could hear her heart thumping. She made a little sound in her throat when his finger penetrated, but she was moist and nearly ready for him.

He had no illusions that she would enjoy every step of their first coupling, but he wanted her to know something of the pleasures before she felt the pain, and he knew that the more he prepared her for him, the less pain she would feel.

Even so, her caresses, tentative at first but more passionate now, had stirred his body until it was clamoring for release. He knew he had better begin before his exploding lust overcame his good intentions.

Accordingly, he shifted to recapture her mouth, pressing his finger farther into her hot, moist depths as he did. She gasped beneath his lips and arched against him. When she reached lower to touch his belly and below, he caught her hand and moved it to hold him, groaning as her slim fingers grasped his penis.

She turned her head a little, and he raised his. "Am I hurting you?"

"Nay," she said, "but will you fit there?"

He chuckled. "Aye, I'll fit, but it may not all be pleasant for you the first time. After that, it will get easier. Ah, lassie, you are so smooth and warm."

"You are warm, too," she said. "I have noticed that before now, but this… this, I never imagined."

He moved over her then, easing first one knee between her soft thighs to spread them, then the other. His whole both thrummed like a tautly strung bow, ready for release.

She was tense now, her lips parted in anticipation, her expression wary but curious, too. Her beautiful breasts, golden in the light of the cressets and firelight, rose and fell quickly with her breathing.

He kissed her, then carefully eased himself atop her, spreading her gently to accommodate him. He hesitated briefly, then eased into her. Hearing her breath catch, he knew she felt pain, but he pressed forward more before easing back. In this manner, he continued until the way felt lest constricted, and then at last, thrust firmly into her. Exerting stern control over himself even at her faint cry, he continued smoothly and steadily until he could no longer deny his lust free rein. With quick, furious movements, he reached his climax, gasping.

Rolling off her, he saw that she lay wide-eyed, lips parted again, breathing almost as hard as he was.

"Are you all right?"

"Aye," she said. "I didn't know."

"Know what?"

"That a woman could feel like that."

"Didn't I hurt you?"

"Aye, but you said it won't hurt again. And the rest…" She grinned at him.

"I love you," he said, moving to get up. "I'll get something to clean us."

"You say that now, but I'm guessing that the first time I defy you, you'll say something else, sir."

"I was going to show you more pleasuring," he said, returning with a cloth he had dipped into the still-warm water in the ewer. "But if you are going to talk of defiance…" He let the thought hover between them as he began to cleanse the blood from her thighs. "Are you going to defy me again?" he asked.

"Oh, I expect so," she said, then gasped as he parted her thighs again to clean her there. "It… it seems to be a part of me. I expect it comes of having a father who issues orders and then forgets he's issued them. Oh, my, don't stop!"

He chuckled again as he moved away to pour water into the basin to clean himself. "Macleod should have beaten you soundly when you disobeyed," he said over his shoulder.

"Well, he did sometimes," she said, relaxing against the pillows again. "But his furies were quickly over, and then there would always be something else I wanted to do. So, you see, even if I try not to, I'll probably make you angry again."

"I see," Hugo said. Then, grinning as he climbed back into bed with her, he said, "I should confess to you, Skelpie, I once had a vision of a perfect wife."

"I'm afraid she was not like me," Sorcha said with an exaggerated sigh.

"She bore not the least resemblance to you," he agreed.

"What was she like then?"

"Just a boring woman of pleasing looks and figure who could manage my household and bear children who would all be as well behaved as their mother."

"Are my looks not pleasing?"

"You are beautiful in every way imaginable. But, sithee, I anticipated a married life of perfect peace and amity. No strife, no fuss or ado."

"And what was your contribution going to be to this perfection?"

"This," he said with another chuckle as he held her and began kissing his way slowly down her body until his lips met her nether ones.

"Oh," Sorcha said with a gasp as his tongue began to tease her. "If you do that as often as you scold and correct me, I vow, sir, you may scold me all you like."