Chapter 12

A s Andrew had predicted, applause erupted, making Lina search her feelings again. With her back still to the high table and thus to the other women and Rob MacAulay, she could not even imagine what their feelings might be.

Ian was enjoying the applause, and she did enjoy his company. Moreover, everyone in the hall seemed to approve, so smiling back at them was easy. The truth, though, was that she could not define her feelings for Ian further than liking, although she had been willing to marry him despite the flaws in his character. So she had clearly ignored some of the standards she had set earlier for her husband.

She had expected, at least, to marry a man whose opinions regarding risk taking and family responsibilities echoed her own. Had those standards been so trifling to her that she could fling them aside for a too-daring, dutybound warrior simply because of his handsome face, persuasive charm, and infectious impulses?

“Come along now, ye two,” Andrew said. “ ’Tis only supper, but it will serve as a wedding feast. So take the central places of honor, and I’ll say the grace.”

The seating, thus ordered, placed Lina and Ian between her mother and father. So, when Andrew finished the grace, Lina turned to Lady Aubrey and said quietly, “I ken fine that you must be dismayed, Mam. By my troth—”

“Your father explained everything,” Lady Aubrey interjected gently.

“Did he? I doubt that he was away from us long enough to do that.”

“He may have left out a few details,” her ladyship said. She added in no more than a whisper, “I needed to know no more than that Dougal had had the temerity not only to offer for you, my love, but to threaten you!”

Wincing, Lina said, “He made those threats before, to Lizzie and me. Moreover, he was going to take me away and leave Lizzie with James Mòr.”

Patting her hand, Lady Aubrey said, “You need not think about them again, dearling. I will admit that I’d not have objected had your father hanged Dougal for his insolence. But he cannot harm you now. You and Sir Ian will consummate your union. Then he will attend to his business for the King, and all will be well.”

A shiver slid up Lina’s spine as her mother said the last few words.

Lady Aubrey raised her eyebrows in query.

Having no idea what had caused the shiver and hoping to divert her mother from inquiring about it, Lina said, “Are we to consummate our marriage at once then, Mam? I thought we would wait for the priest to bless it first.”

“Nay, nor should you, Lina. Yes, I will have some lamb,” she added in a normal tone when a gillie offered a platter of sliced meats for her inspection. After he had served her and moved on, she said, “Annie and Tibby are preparing Mag and Andrena’s bedchamber for you. You need not worry about prying ears at the door, either. I’ll keep Murie and Lizzie with me. Your father will see to the men.”

Lina bit her lip, because prying ears were just what she had been imagining.

She had recalled that after Mag and Andrena married, a group of drunken men had carried Mag upstairs and deposited him in their chamber naked. Lady Aubrey often seemed to know what her daughters were thinking, although her greatest gift was a rare, uncanny ability to see things before they occurred.

Lina chided herself then for reacting as she had to the chill she had felt before. Would her mother assure her that all would be well if it would not be?

To be sure, her ladyship could not predict the future at will. Certain events just appeared in her mind, unbidden, and usually well before their time. Not always, though. Her warning of treachery just before Pharlain and his men had seized Arrochar years ago had given Andrew and her ladyship just enough time to flee with their newborn Andrena to the safety of Tùr Meiloach.

“Eat your supper, love,” Lady Aubrey said. “I must not ignore Margaret, and you will be glad later to have had sustenance now.”

Unwilling yet to think about “later,” Lina turned her attention to her trencher. Somehow it had acquired food, although she had not selected any.

Realizing that the gillie who had served Lady Aubrey had not even offered any meat to her, Lina stared at the array on her trencher and then looked at Ian.

He smiled. “It did not get there by magic, lass,” he said. “Whilst you were enjoying your conversation with her ladyship, I took the liberty of serving you myself. I believe a husband does have that right.”

She remembered that a husband had many rights, and heat suffused her cheeks. Wondering how anyone had ever thought she was the serene, unflappable member of her family, and hoping her voice would not reveal her nervousness, she said, “Mam just told me that we should consummate our union right after supper.”

To her surprise and unexpected delight, she saw his cheeks redden.

Ian knew that he must be fiery red and was fervently thankful that Rob sat on Andrew’s right, rather than on his own. Had Andrew not been between them, Rob would surely have overheard Lina’s comment and seen Ian’s reaction.

Had that happened, Ian knew he would never have heard the end of it.

He was also glad they were at the table, so that no one but he could detect the immediate and painful response of his lower body to Lina’s words.

Bad enough that he was blushing. Men, real men, and certainly warriors and knights of the realm, did not blush. Never. As in not ever . But the fire in his cheeks now was evidence that it could happen to even the most unlikely chap.

Perhaps females did not know that, though. In any event, it would be well to control it. Andrew would know, if he chanced to note the phenomenon. And Rob might choose that moment or the next to lean forward. With these thoughts uneasily in mind, Ian kept his attention on Lina and saw a twinkle dawn in her eyes.

The cheeky lass was pleased with herself for stirring his blushes.

With sweet retribution in mind, he said, “Your mother is right, lass. Eat up. You are going to need all the energy you can muster.”

To which, she replied without hesitation, “Everyone thinks you mean to leave me here when you return to Dunglass, sir. But I must certainly go with you. What would your parents think if I did not?”

Ian sobered instantly. His first thought was that he had been right to warn her that they would fratch. Not over her going with him, though, because he would put his foot down on that. She would be unhappy, but he would allow her no choice. She would be much safer at Tùr Meiloach, so here she would stay.

Nevertheless, he was not fool enough to make that declaration now.

Instead, he said, “We can talk about that later. Art finished eating?”

“Not yet,” she said, shooting him a speculative look.

Ignoring it, he signed to a gillie to pour them some wine and asked another to bring back the meat platter. Then he said, “Mayhap you will tell me more about your people as we eat. I have met your father’s steward, Malcolm Wylie, and a number of the others. But who is that red-headed chappie who whistled so well?”

Lina was happy enough to talk about Pluff and the Wylies.

Ian seemed fascinated to learn that Pluff watched the postern gate and helped tend the animals inside the wall, so she cheerfully answered his other questions. Still, and despite having evidently drunk a goblet and a half of wine, she felt as if only minutes had passed when Andrew said abruptly, “Annie tells me that your chamber is ready, Ian. So ye should take your lady wife to bed.”

“Aye, sure, sir,” Ian said as he stood and extended a hand to Lina.

She began to rise but paused when Muriella said, “Prithee, Father, not yet!”

Murie got up so hastily then that she would have knocked over her stool had Lizzie not caught it. Heedless of Lizzie’s action, Murie said coaxingly to Andrew, “I am going to tell the tale of how Sir Ian rescued Lina and Lizzie. Liz told me all about it, and I know that everyone else will want to hear it, too.”

Lina stiffened, but Ian gave her hand a squeeze and drew her upright.

People began to cheer again, but they broke off abruptly when Andrew raised his hands, palms out. “We’ll have nae tales tonight,” he said. “This night belongs to the bridal pair, and I’ll allow nae hindrance. D’ye hear me, all of ye?”

Someone began to clap then. When others joined in and still others stomped their feet, Ian waved and bore Lina off to the service stairs.

“I trust this stairway will take us where we need to go,” he said, grinning at her. “I don’t trust those men enough to parade you across the hall to the other one.”

“We can go this way,” she said. “We’re to use Mag and Andrena’s room. It’s at the top of the stairs, above the solar and just under the ramparts.”

“Good,” he said. “I know I’ll fit with you in Mag’s bed. I was thinking I might have to sleep in one with my feet hanging over.”

The image his words created made her smile. But when he urged her to precede him up the narrow stairway, her nerves began to tingle and her heart to pound. Not only was she more aware than ever of his presence behind her but she also felt unsure of what lay ahead. She had heard people talk of coupling and had helped Andrena prepare for hers. She also had a vague idea of what happened when men and women coupled. But she had never seen the act performed.

Ian’s confidence assured her that he knew much more about it than she did. The thought gave her pause to wonder but did little to steady her nerves.

“Here is their room,” she said when they reached the landing below the door to the ramparts and outside the large bedchamber that had, at an earlier time, contained pallets for men-at-arms who now slept on pallets in the hall or in cottages outside the wall. When she opened the door, she half-expected to see Tibby rushing about, attending to last-minute details. But although the room was aglow with soft golden candlelight, it was empty. The bed, turned down, awaited them.

Hearing Ian bolt the service-stair door and watching him cross the room to bar the main door, she said, “I must fetch a fresh shift from my room for the morning, sir. Tibby forgot to leave one out for me here.”

“Never mind that,” he said. “You won’t need it tonight. Forbye, I feel safer with the doors locked. I’d not put it past those others or your father—”

“Nay,” she said. “You heard him. He will brook no hindrance, which means no intrusion. He said it as much for you and me as for the others. Faith, sir, if he were the sort of man to let them disturb our bedding, Mam would not permit it.”

“Even so,” he said, leaving the bar firmly in place, “whatever you need tomorrow, your Tibby can fetch then.”

She had not thought about Tibby entering their bedchamber. “Will your man, Hak, come in here, too?” she asked.

“Not until I send for him,” Ian said, looking around as if to memorize every detail. “Come to that, I don’t know where your steward put him.”

“Mag’s man sleeps in the wee room across the landing from this one. So Malcolm or Peter Wylie likely put Hak in there. Do you want him?”

“Not now,” he said. “I just want to be able to shout when I do.”

“Well, you can go and look, but I’ll wager he is there, because female guests sleep in the room that Lady Margaret has now, across from the one where Lizzie and Muriella are sleeping. And male guests usually sleep across from the solar, where Rob MacAulay is. But Tibby sleeps in a tiny room downstairs near the kitchen.”

“Then, if she hasn’t come up on her own when you need her, I’ll send Hak or Rob to fetch her,” he said, moving toward her.

The sudden intent look on his face made her more nervous than ever. But a lady did not allow such sensitivities to show. Doubtless, she thought, Lady Aubrey had gone to her wedding-night bed with nerves of steel.

“I haven’t kissed you properly yet,” Ian said, taking Lina by the shoulders and drawing her slowly nearer, tantalizing himself with lusty images as he did.

Someone had lit a cresset on a corner table and several branches of candles, so he had light enough to see her eyes widen and her pupils enlarge.

Her dusky eyelashes fluttered lower.

The bed—invitingly large—stood behind her, its dark red curtains tied back to show that someone had turned down the covers for them.

Putting two fingers beneath her chin, Ian tilted her head up and touched her lips gently with his as he had earlier. Feeling her tremble, he pressed harder and eased his free hand from her warm shoulder down her back. Then, he urged her closer, wanting her to feel the length of his body against hers for the first time.

“I think I’ve dreamed this,” she murmured against his lips.

“Have you?” he murmured back. “I hope not all of this. That would be most unseemly for a maiden, lass. Did you dream this part?” he added, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Then, moving the hand at her chin to cup the back of her head, he held her so that she would not pull it back.

As he explored her mouth with his tongue, he deftly removed her veil. Then, casting it aside, he wove his fingers into the thick, silky coils of her hair. His tongue continued working busily, tantalizingly, in the velvety confines of her mouth.

He felt her soft breasts swell against him.

When she moaned softly, he eased his fingers through her hair, finding pins and loosening the coil and then her golden plaits. His free hand drifted from the small of her back to the curve of her bottom.

“You taste like honey,” he murmured against her lips. He savored the taste and tasted again.

She was silent but wonderfully submissive as if she were willing to learn as he explored her, and once again, he marveled at her calm. But it stirred him, too, as it had in the past, when it had stirred him to mischief. Now, it stirred other senses.

He wanted her even more than he had anticipated. But, his father had often said that a marriage was a long and often thorny relationship. One did well to remember that and not proceed as if one had just received a new plaything.

“I see that you have set me a new challenge,” he whispered in her ear.

“What?” Her breath touched his neck, sending blood coursing through him.

“To make you want me just half as much as I want you.”

With a little gasp, she pulled back enough to look at him, her rosy lips softly, sensuously parted. Her eyes warmly reflected the golden glow of the candlelit room.

Sure of himself now, he reached for her kirtle laces.

Lina stiffened when he tugged at her laces. But he had said that he wanted her, and the sensations he had stirred all through her when his tongue had plunged into her mouth were still going strong. She did not want them to stop.

Since his hands were at her laces, he no longer held her head, and she was nearly certain that he would not seize it again if she tried to pull away.

How do you know that? the voice deep in her mind asked. For once, the voice was too distant to heed. The sensations were stronger, especially when he put his hand on her bottom and pressed her hard against him. She could feel his body move and harden in a place she had not known could harden.

He kissed her again, thoroughly, even playfully, encouraging her tongue to dance with his in her mouth. Before she was ready to stop playing, he eased his tongue out again and murmured teasingly, “Well, have you?”

Feeling strangely bereft, she blinked, then swallowed. “Have I what?”

Chuckling, he said, “Have you dreamed all of this before?”

Trying to collect herself, she said, “I… I don’t know. I only felt as if I had dreamed of you, or perhaps someone else, holding me so. Have you not had moments when you’ve felt as if you had dreamed what is happening to you?”

“I never remember my dreams,” Ian said, knowing it for a lie but reluctant to admit to her that he remembered the sexy ones. He had not dreamed of her. But he was as certain as he could be that, after touching her, kissing her, and doing the other things he would do with her as soon as possible, he would dream of her, often.

Her hair smelled of summer and felt like silk. He had not yet completely undone her plaits, and he wanted to see how long her hair was. More than that, he wanted to measure himself against her and for her to be naked and in his arms.

On that thought, he parted her laces, giving himself access to the shift beneath, which had its own silken ties. To his delight, it was the kind of shift that, once untied, would open wide enough to slip down over her shoulders and her hips.

Suiting that thought to some action, he untied the bow and spread the loosely gathered neckline wide open. When she shivered, he said, “Art cold, lass?”

“Nay, but I do not know what I am supposed to do.”

“You need do nowt yet,” he said, baring her breasts. “I want to look at you.”

Her lips parted in a gasp, and he needed no further invitation to claim them and keep them busy while he dealt deftly with the narrow chain girdle at her hips, released its clasp, and let it fall with a jingling sound to the floor.

Then, pushing her bodice and shift lower yet to see the smooth skin of her midriff and waist, he held her away a little to see how her breasts looked so. They were full and firm with rosy tips, their nipples hardening as he watched.

“It does not seem fair for you to take my clothes off whilst you keep yours on,” she said, eyeing him reproachfully.

“I am your husband now. And I want to undress you.”

“Another husbandly right, aye,” she said. “Is it not my right to undress you? Sithee, I do not know. Mag was undressed when the men shoved him in here.”

“ You saw Mag naked on his wedding night?” He grinned at the image she had produced for him. “I thought maidens were barred from such events.”

“Murie was there, too, and Mag had managed to keep his shirt,” Lina said. “He held it in such a way that we could not see all of him.”

His breath caught with those last few words, when the amusing image of Mag abruptly shifted to a pulsing desire of his own to see all of Lina.

He stepped back a pace and said, “Push your kirtle and shift all the way off now, lass. I want to see you, every beautiful inch of you.”

At those words, Lina’ muscles contracted in unusual places and surprising ways. But she could not make her hands obey him. Cool air caressed her bared torso, making her nipples feel as if they led secret lives of their own.

“Look at me,” he said.

She didn’t want to. She wanted to savor the feelings his voice stirred in her body, the invigorating way it reacted to his commands. When an irresistible urge within her made her look at him, his gaze captured hers and held it.

“Push them off, or I will strip them from you myself,” he said, his voice low, compelling, and with a vibrant note now that stirred responsive vibrations in her.

Still unable to look away, despite a sudden blaze raging through her body that stirred new feelings everywhere it touched, she obeyed him. Standing in the pool of clothing, she experienced more stimulating contractions when he reached for her. A light touch on her breast made her shiver again. But she was not cold.

He stroked her breasts gently with his fingertips, his expression intent, his breathing faster than before. His fingertips were rough enough to make her nipples leap in response to their touch. He seemed pleased with what he saw. Her whole body reacted no matter where he touched her. She could hardly breathe.

“Now,” he said, his voice harsh, even raspy, “turn around and walk away from me to the bed. I want to watch you climb into it. Don’t pull up the covers.”

Every fiber of her had come alive. If she had ever been aware of his presence before, it was nothing to what she felt as she obeyed him. She could barely feel the chilly floor. Every skin cell, every tiny hair of her body was tinglingly aware of Ian.

“Stop and shake out the rest of your plaits. Show me how long your hair is.”

She did that easily, quickly, just as she did whenever she brushed her hair. Then she stepped toward the bed again, feeling her hair brush against her bottom.

“Pull your hair forward now,” he said, his voice even lower, raspier. “I want to see all of you, and it’s in my way.”

Reaching back to do his bidding, she felt her breasts rise and tauten. She had never been so aware of her body as she was now, knowing that he watched her.

She was one of those rare women who were more stunningly beautiful naked than clothed. Her skin was like gilded ivory by candlelight, and smooth. He had known she was slender but not how exquisitely so or how soft and smooth her luscious curves would be. The Fates had formed her hips perfectly. Her firm bottom was a delight to the eye and an undeniable temptation to touch and squeeze.

Her legs were slender, well formed, and exquisite from her firm thighs to her delicate ankles, feet, and wee toes. The play of her muscles when she reached the high bed and climbed onto it took his breath away. She had tensed just before putting her right knee up, telling him that she felt a little uncomfortable. But she did as he had bidden her anyway. Looking heavenward, he prayed that the rest of his wedding night—sakes, his entire marriage—would proceed in the same way.

“Now lie back, leave the covers as they are, and wait for me,” he said. He wasted no time but stripped off his clothes and strode to the bed, deciding to let the candles gutter. He wanted to watch her as long as he could.

Lina watched Ian, wholly content to let him tell her what to do, since she was enjoying it and, otherwise, would have had no idea what he wanted from her. Also, if she let him have it all his way now, he would surely be more conciliating when she explained how necessary it was that she return with him to Dunglass.

He was in a hurry now. He had pulled off his boots and stripped off his plaid, tunic, and breeks at a speed that she might have thought impossible for any man.

Then he straightened and faced her, rampant.

Gasping, she nearly bolted upright. Surely, what she had believed must happen when they coupled could not.

As he stood looking at her, he seemed to grow larger there before her eyes. Then, he moved to the bed and stood there, gazing down at her.

A draft across her breasts made her tremble.

“Prithee, sir. You look as if you mistake me for a tableful of food at a feasting, as if you are trying to decide what to taste first.”

His eyes opened wide at that. He choked back a laugh, and they twinkled merrily. “You are impatient,” he said, grinning. “I like that in a lass. Move over a wee bit more, though. I’m larger than the space you’ve left for me.”

As Lina scooted over, Ian watched to see how she managed her hair. The flickering candlelight played on it, intriguingly rearranging shadows and highlights. The long tresses did not appear to concern her, though, as she made room for him. When she had settled into place again against the pillows, revealing that the wee hollow of her throat was dewy, he decided to taste that first.

Then his gaze shifted to her breasts, which were moving gently up and down as she breathed. They were medium sized but fully enticing, suggesting that a man’s head might pillow itself between them. But he had other plans in mind first. He had experience with women but not with maidens, since knightly honor forbade trifling with any but the most willing and experienced females. But he was no dolt. He had asked those women many questions and considered himself knowledgeable.

Accordingly, he proceeded to tease and caress her, kissing and stroking every part of her body that he could reach without contorting her or himself or penetrating her. By paying close heed to her every movement and moan, he soon satisfied himself that although she was shy, she enjoyed submitting to him. So when the time came for him to claim her, he took advantage of that.

Deciding that she was ready for him at last, he said, “I am going to do something different now. You must lie perfectly still.”

He had one hand on her belly then and fingers of the other tickling one of her nipples. Moving to claim that nipple with his lips, he eased his hand to the fork of her legs and tickled the opening there.

When she stiffened, he said, “Relax, lass. Breathe in and let it out.”

Although she obeyed him, she moved her thighs closer together.

“Spread your legs more,” he murmured. “Not all of this will be pleasant. But it is necessary, and I want to prepare you well.”

This time, she took a deeper breath and let it out more slowly and completely. He felt her relax beneath his hand.

Finding the nub known to be the most sensitive part of a woman’s body, he teased it with his finger until she was moaning again, then slid the finger inside her. Feeling her open for him, he moved gently over her and eased himself in.

She gasped. “You’re too big!”

“Be easy, lass, a woman’s body adjusts itself.”

If, in the end, it was not that easy, he was skillful and she remained submissive. So the task was done.

Pounding to his culmination, he knew he must have hurt her. But coupling was necessary for any husband and wife, and initiating it was the duty of any new husband. In any event, Lina seemed relaxed afterward and made no complaint.

In fact, he thought, she seemed strangely distracted. Too sated to twitch a muscle, let alone to talk, he concentrated on recovering enough energy to move.

Stunned—and abruptly unaware of anything else that was happening to her, other than a rather distant ache—Lina had found herself staring at Lady Aubrey and wondered how her mother had entered a room with two locked doors.

Obviously, she could not. No one could do that. But her mother stood right there, not six feet from the bed. Lina opened her mouth to ask what she was doing, but when she tried to form the words, her lips would not cooperate…

While she puzzled over this oddity, she realized that Lady Aubrey was not in the room at all but in another chamber altogether, as if a wall between the two had opened to reveal her standing there. She knelt then, opened a carved wooden chest, and reached into it.

As she did, a muscular arm reached around her from behind and a large hand clapped over her mouth.

Startled, Lina tried to scream but heard no sound. Feeling weight bearing down on her, she realized that Ian had collapsed atop her and was breathing hard.

Apparently aware that he was crushing her, he muttered, “Sorry, lass. I hope I did not hurt you too much.”

“No, sir, I barely felt a thing,” she said, finding her voice when he rolled halfway off her and no farther. “Forbye, the strangest thing just happened.”

“Aye, sure, but you’ll get used to it,” he muttered, and snored.

Since it was clearly not the best time for her to try to explain what had happened, she decided to think more about it before telling anyone. Sliding out from under Ian, she poured water from the ewer on the washstand into the basin and cleaned herself. As she did, she realized that she was sore down there. The aching eased quickly, so she blew out the candles and climbed over Ian—apparently without disturbing him in the least—and slept soundly beside him.

When she awoke Wednesday morning, he still slept, so she lay quietly until he, too, awoke.

When he turned over and saw her, he said with a grin, “Good, you’re awake. I’ve a rare hunger for ye, lass. I think this marriage is going to be a good one.”

When he reached for her, she sat up, clutched the covers to her breasts, and scooted away. Returning his smile with a wistful one, she said nonetheless firmly, “First, sir, I would explain why I must go with you to Dunglass.”