Chapter 24

24

" H e seems to grunt a lot."

Her answer to Lady Margaret's questions caused the other women in the room to exchange knowing glances and then soft laughter filled the room. The laird's wife reached over and patted her hand in a comforting sort of way.

"He is a good man, Anice. Give him time to adjust to yer ways."

"But my mother taught me that 'tis a wife's duty to adjust to her husband. Is this not the way of it then?"

She was confused. She knew how to wheedle what she wanted from Struan; their many years together had shown her his weaknesses and she used them as she needed to in order to accomplish her tasks and duties at Dunnedin. She somehow thought that dealing with a husband would be different from that. Anice shook her head and looked for guidance from Lady Margaret.

"Now, dear, dinna fash yerself over these matters. Ye and Robert will learn each other's ways soon enough."

"'Tis not the same, Lady Margaret. He said you knew..." She realized the others in the room were listening with unabashed curiosity and she could not expose the real basis of their marriage.

"Here now, ladies," Lady Margaret called out. "Please give us some privacy."

Anice watched as the women gathered up their work and left the room. She feared speaking of such private matters even with this woman, but she needed some advice. And so far, all that she'd seen of and heard about the laird's wife told her this was the person to ask .

Lady Margaret stood and walked to the other table and poured both of them some ale. Bringing it back to where she sat, the older woman sat down and looked directly at Anice.

"So, 'tis to be a marriage in name only then? No' a true union of man and wife?" Although she did not expect such a blunt question, Anice could detect no sense of disapproval in her tone.

"That is our agreement."

"And is that what ye want? Marriage to a man who will no' share yer bed? Do ye no' crave more bairns and the happiness of a true marriage?"

Anice began to answer and then stopped. Did she want that? Years ago, when preparing for her move to Dunnedin, she had dreamed of a wonderful life, filled with children and a husband and her duties as lady of the clan MacKendimen. Her innocent imaginings were far from the reality of her life once she arrived. Sandy, whom she had met only twice before, was in England, and she spent her time carrying out Lady Edana's orders. Then after the lady's death, she took over and ran the keep as chatelaine and prepared for her wedding—the wedding that did not come until five years later. Memories of that wedding and the weeks after reminded her of what she wanted.

"I want simply to return to my duties in Dunnedin and be allowed to carry on as I did before, without the attentions of a husband." There. That explained it clearly.

"Even if that husband is Robert?" Lady Margaret sipped from her cup and looked at Anice over its rim. Anice nodded. "Then why did ye seek him out? What did he do to ye that ye would punish him in this way?"

"Punish him? I do not understand your meaning."

"Well, lass. Ye have saddled him for the rest of his life with a wife in name only, one who will no' give him bairns of his own, one who will no' share his bed. It surely sounds to me that ye meant to punish him."

Anice reeled at her words. She had not thought of the impact of her actions on Robert's life. She had sought him out because she trusted him to help her, never dreaming of the solution he would suggest. In her desperation to escape marriage to another man and losing her babe, she had sentenced him to a life without a family to call his own.

"I did not realize..." she whispered, horrified at the results of her actions.

"Can ye no' commit to him in a real marriage?" Lady Margaret's words were soft, but the question terrified her.

"I cannot. Not even knowing now the wrong I did against him." She had told him that he would have to take whatever he wanted from her, that she could not offer it to him. He knew the truth of their arrangement. Why was Lady Margaret trying to change things between them? "He knew before we married that I could not give in to him that way. That he would have to take his marital rights without my cooperation."

"And kenning him enough to trust him with yer life and that of yer son, do ye think he would take from ye? I raised him better than that, dear. Can ye no' trust him with yer body now that ye have turned yerself over into his care?"

Flashes of the night with Sandy reminded her of the horrors her body and soul had suffered. She would never be able to separate those memories and fears and hold them aside while joining physically with another man, even if that man was Robert. Shivering at the terror provoked even now by those thoughts, she stood and stepped away from the table.

"I want to check on the babe. If you'll excuse me, Lady Margaret?"

"Of course, my dear." Lady Margaret stood as Anice made her way to the door of the solar. "Anice?" Anice turned to face her.

"Why do ye think he did this?"

"Robert? I do not know. I asked him and he said he haes his own reasons."

"What do you think those reasons are? Have you thought about it?"

"To raise his own standing? To seek the inheritance I bring to my husband? That is why men marry above their station in life, is it not?"

"That is why most men would marry someone with a title and wealth. Do ye think he does it for that?"

Anice just needed to get away—from the lady and her troubling words. She did not want to examine Robert's reasons or her own more closely right now. She just wanted to get back to Dunnedin and settle this with Struan and her father.

"A true union can stand against any and all who threaten it. There is nothing stronger. Remember that, lass."

She almost ran from the words. Craig did not need her right now; that was an excuse to leave. Anice searched for a place to be alone and found it after several tries. She discovered a small herb garden near the lower kitchens and sought some quiet there among the still-growing plants. It was not long before she was on her knees, weeding out the herbs and preparing them for the coming autumn harvest. Only the signal of her very full breasts told of how much time had passed while she toiled there. Wiping her hands on a towel she'd found among the tools, she stood to leave.

The sound of a baby crying echoed through the garden and she felt her milk let down and start to seep into her dress. Crossing her arms over her chest, she walked to the entrance, only to find Robert standing there. He carried her squalling son on his shoulder and smiled when he saw her.

"Emma was about to feed him when I returned to my... our room. I thought ye may have need to?" He looked at the telltale stains on her gown and his gaze seemed to make the milk flow even faster.

She could only nod and take the babe from him. Returning to a bench in the shade, she threw her shawl over her shoulders and loosened the ties on her chemise and her gown. Bringing the babe to her breast, she sighed as the draw on her nipple released the flow and brought with it some measure of relief. It was only then that she remembered Robert's presence.

"I am once more in your debt, Robert."

"The laird haes made arrangements for us to leave at daybreak for Dunnedin."

"So soon?" She rubbed her hand over the babe's head as he suckled contentedly.

"Duncan sent a messenger early yesterday saying you had been found and that he would arrange an escort when you had recovered from the injuries you sustained in your journey here."

"Did the messenger tell the rest of it? "

"Nay," he said. "Duncan sent him at our approach, before anything more was kenned."

"He is a smart man." Anice recognized the tactic—Duncan said only what needed to be said and did not lie.

"I learned much from him in the years I spent here."

"And in spite of the affection I can tell you feel for him and Lady Margaret and the welcomed place you would have here, you would leave and return to face the uncertainty at Dunnedin?"

"Aye." His voice was low and he looked away as he answered her.

"Why, Robert?" She hoped for some answer to the question that Lady Margaret posed to her. She needed to gain a better understanding of what drove him to help her in this way.

"I have my own reasons, Anice. I told ye that before we married."

"And you will not share them with me?" His face hardened as she watched and she knew he would not.

"I will no' be at dinner in the hall this evening. There are errands I must complete today that will keep me away until late."

Craig had stopped sucking so she lifted him up to burp him. Patting and rubbing his back, she looked at the man who had saved her life. How could this work between them when she could not give him what men wanted from their wives? A sense of depression filled her and she felt like crying. Her selfish fears had brought him into this. Her inability to obey those who were in charge of her life cost him any chance at real happiness. The only thing she could do to repay him was to stay out of his way and follow his directions.

"Very well. Would you like me to keep a tray warm for your return?"

"Nay, Anice, dinna trouble yerself. I can see to it when I return."

She placed Craig in the crook of her arm and lifted him to her breast. When she looked up she was alone in the garden with her son. And wasn't that just what she told Lady Margaret she wanted?

So, if this was how she wanted her life to proceed, why was she unable to stop the tears from flowing? Why was she filled with regret over her actions? And why did she want to beg Robert's forgiveness for entangling him in her plot?

"Did ye speak to her?" Duncan asked his wife as she entered their chambers. Although Robert had left, Duncan could still see Anice sitting on the bench with her babe. And, when the wind blew just so, it carried the sounds of her soft crying to him where he stood above her.

"Aye, husband. I did as ye asked." Margaret joined him at the window and looked down into the herb garden below. "Is she there?"

"Robert just took his leave of her. Things are no' going well between them, I fear."

"Truly? What makes ye think it?" His wife had to stand on tiptoes to see over the ledge.

"Listen."

The wind carried the sad sounds to them once more and Duncan saw tears in his wife's eyes. He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips. Although discarded callously by Struan, Robert had been a joy to them in the time he lived at Dunbarton. Margaret had supported his decision about Robert's upbringing and training as soon as he'd made it and in spite of Struan's requests to the contrary. Neither one of them understood Struan's hardheadedness in the matter of his natural son.

"He loves her already," Margaret said, sighing.

"Can she love him, though? After what she's survived?"

"I think she can, but does no' recognize it yet. She watches him when he does no' ken and I have seen the interest there." Margaret turned to face him. "She needs time to get over her fears, Duncan. Then, I think they could be happy."

"Ah, time. I am no' certain that Struan will give them that time."

"He will support her faither in this, do ye think?"

"I wish I could say, Margaret. I just dinna understand his opposition to Robert. If I kenned his reasons for steadfastly refusing to recognize him, I might ken what he will do when he finds out about their marriage."

"Robert does no' seem worried about Struan?" His wife looked out once more and they watched together as Anice gathered her son in her arms and left the garden.

"He will no' tell me more about that, only that he haes a way to assure Struan's compliance."

"Robert would no' be the first natural son to seek to raise himself by marrying an heiress. Even the MacNab found his fortune that way."

Duncan laughed out loud and took his wife's hands in his.

"'Tis best if ye dinna remind the man of that fact. Those recently titled dinna want to dwell on how lately they came to it. Or how."

"Well, husband, all we can do is hope for them. Now, I will leave ye to yer work." She tried to walk away, but he pulled her into his embrace.

"With all this talk of the newly married and wanting and loving, I find myself wanting you, wife." He took her mouth with all the passion she still enkindled in him after all these years together. When she was breathless, he dragged her to their bed and took her down with him. Kissing her again and again, he whispered to her, "Will ye have me, wife?"

"Aye, husband. I will have ye."

Her eyes were filled with desire and even as he tugged at the laces of her gown, he offered up two quick prayers to the Almighty—one of thanksgiving for finding her and one begging that Robert and Anice could find the same thing between them. Then he was lost in the love they shared.