Chapter 13

Muriella stared at the doorway after Rob vanished, trying to make sense of the feelings that had filled her from the moment he'd put his hands on her.

"Mistress," Tibby said. "Your water be ready."

Startled, Murie realized that despite staring at the doorway, she had apparently failed to note the departure of the two gillies through it. Recovering her wits, she shut the door and said, "I'll wear the blue gown that Lady Lina made for me the last time she was here, Tibby."

"Aye, but first we'll have ye out o' this one," Tibby said. "Never tell me ye've had this pink kirtle on since I put ye in it m'self nigh a sennight ago."

Murie reassured her but added that she did not want to talk about her ordeal. "I just want to get clean and go downstairs to see everyone."

After hurrying through her bath and dressing, Murie returned to the hall to find her family awaiting her at the high table. Andrew stood at the central place, as usual. Her mother, sisters, Lady Margaret, and Lizzie stood to his left and Rob at his right. Their steward, Malcolm Wylie, was stepping down from the dais.

Murie stopped him. "Is Annie in the tower, Malcolm?" she asked.

"Nay, m'lady. She's awa' to our cottage. Did ye want her?"

"Not tonight, but do tell her I've returned safely. She must have worried."

"Aye, we all did, m'lady," he said with a warm smile. "Welcome home."

Thanking him, she stepped onto the dais and took her place beside Lina, who stood next to Dree. Their places had been customary for as long as Murie could remember, until Lina moved to Dumbarton. As guests, Lady Margaret stood next to their mother and fifteen-year-old Lizzie occupied the end place, at Murie's left.

Lizzie's simple white veil did little to conceal her long, thick mass of red-orange curls. Turning with a grin, she said quietly to Murie, "I heard you were captive at Arrochar, with the evil Dougal. Is he as handsome as ever?"

Murie grimaced. "I thought he was horrid. I'm just thankful to be home."

"And glad to be Rob MacAulay's lady, aye?" Lina murmured from Murie's right. "You should know that we stand in our usual places only by Mam's orders."

"Mercy, what do you mean?"

"Since Rob's father is gone, you must know that he is now Lord MacAulay. As his baroness, you now outrank Dree and me and are entitled to sit at Mam's left."

Uncertain of her feelings about that, although she felt a brief urge to tease Lina, Murie said only, "I'm glad Father told everyone what happened. I dreaded the thought of having to explain it to all of you by myself. It was bad enough that MacAu—that Rob made me tell Father and Mam what I did."

"I like Rob," Lina confided. "He has been a gey good friend to Ian and me, and to Mag and Dree, too. He will make you a good husband, I think. Although," she added with a chuckle, "if I recall aright, last year he said he did not mean to marry any woman until he had naught of greater interest to do."

"I did not think you or Dree and Mag would be here yet," Murie said to divert her from that topic. "I did not even sense that you had come home."

"We sensed your fears, of course, especially Monday night," Lina said. "I have never been so glad to see Mag or Dree as I was when they came to fetch me. Ian would have disliked sending me alone. Your own senses were likely fixed on more vital matters, but we do want to hear about all that happened at Arro—"

"Shhh," Murie whispered. "Father is going to say the grace."

When he finished and they had taken their seats, Andrena leaned forward to see Murie past Lina and said, "Imagine, I thought my wedding was unexpected!"

"How is Wee Molly?" Murie asked swiftly, knowing that the subject of their tiny daughter was one that never failed to divert either Dree or Mag.

It succeeded, as always, for Andrena was eager to share her daughter's latest accomplishments with them. But, after a time, Lina said, "You know, Murie, you'll have to tell us everything in time. Our curiosity is as great now as yours ever is."

"Perhaps later, when we retire with Mam to the solar."

But when the ladies Aubrey and Margaret stood to signal that it was time for the ladies to leave the table, Rob also rose.

Since Murie had not seen or heard him excuse himself to Andrew, she suspected that the two had already discussed whatever Rob meant to do. She felt an unusual eagerness when he approached and extended a hand to her.

When she put her hand in his, he gave it a gentle tug as he said to Lady Aubrey, "Prithee, excuse Muriella, my lady. We have had a long day and will have another on the morrow when we take ship to Ardincaple."

Lady Aubrey consented with a smile, and Lady Margaret, Dree, Lina, and Lizzie all bade them goodnight in a chorus while Andrew silently beamed.

Although Murie felt self-conscious as she left the dais with Rob, her anticipation of what might lie ahead increased as they ascended the stairs. She tried to recall all that Dree had said about her wedding night. Some of the details had sounded odd then. Now, as she imagined Rob doing things to her that Mag had done with Dree, heat tingled through her body from its center outward.

When they reached her landing and Rob leaned past her to open the door, she realized with a start that if he'd spoken on the way up she had not heard him. With a less enticing jolt, she remembered the Brehon's order that he punish her, and Rob's agreeing—nay, giving the Brehon his word that he would. Surely, he would not…

Swallowing hard, she entered her bedchamber to find a half-dozen candles lit, the shutters closed, and the bedclothes invitingly turned down.

Turning to Rob, she said, "Did my father say we should leave the table?"

"Aye, because he knows I want to get an early start tomorrow," Rob said. "Also, he would like us to consummate our marriage tonight. But as I told you earlier, we can delay that for a short time at least."

She cocked her head. "But we will sleep in the same bed, aye?"

Even by candlelight, she saw his cheeks redden.

"I'm not sure I should sleep with you, lass," he said softly. "I do mean well, but you are gey enticing to me."

"If I am to be your wife," she said, relieved and warily delighted to hear him say again that she attracted him, "I want to be your wife in every way. Also, as I told you earlier, my sisters will ask me how it went, and they always know if I lie. So, if you are delaying because you fear I'll dislike it, then I reject your notion of consequences, sir. Consummation is one of the consequences of marriage, is it not? I begin to think that you are the one who fears it, but surely that cannot be so."

A twinkle lit his eyes, and her wariness fled.

Shaking his head, he patted the bed and said, "Sit, lass. I can think better and will likely explain my thoughts more clearly if we sit and do not touch each other."

"It makes me feel strange all over when you touch me," she said, climbing onto the high bed and sitting with her lower legs over the side. "Does it make you feel the same way if I touch you?"

"Not being female, I cannot tell you if it is the same," he replied, sitting beside her. "But if the strangeness you feel is pleasant, then it is similar."

"It is more than pleasant," she said. "When are you going to kiss me again?"

"Lassie, do you want to hear what I have to say to you or not?"

Cocking her head a little as she turned and drew her knees up so she could face him, she considered the question.

Unabashedly looking at her breasts, the tops of which rose plumply above her low-cut bodice, he said gruffly, "Sakes, lass, do not tempt me further."

"I want to know what you are thinking," she said as solemnly as she could, wondering how he could look so serious one moment and then surprise her with a twinkle in his eyes the next. "You did say that if you were wooing me, you would tell me why you had decided not to inflict yourself on any woman. Although you have not wooed me, Robert, we are married. So, will you tell me now?"

Rob had expected the question, albeit not at just that moment. He was reluctant to tell her, but he knew she had a right to know. Moreover, he knew she would not hide what she was thinking as he told her. Her animated face revealed her thoughts as clearly as if she said each one aloud.

Remembering his first impression of her—that she was childish—he nearly chuckled. She was not a child but a most enticing young woman. Nevertheless, she would require a firm hand, because she had gone her own way for too long.

That, though, was a subject for another time, and he owed her the plain truth now. So, drawing a breath, he said, "My parents tried to betroth me some years ago to the daughter of another nobleman."

"How old were you?" she asked. "Who is she? Might I know her?"

"One question at a time, if you please," he said. "Her name is irrelevant, and I am sure you do not know her. Sithee, I was fourteen and just beginning serious training as a warrior. I had nowt in mind save that training. I had practiced archery, wrestling, and other such warrior's sports since early childhood. At fourteen, I had no interest in females or in the position I would one day inherit."

A spasm of pain shot through him when his father's image arose then in his mind. Rob swallowed carefully and was sure that he had concealed the emotion until she put her hand gently on his thigh. Although she did not speak, the compassion he felt from her was nearly his undoing.

Swallowing again, he said, "I met her only twice. Our parents thought that letting us get to know each other would lead naturally to the betrothal they sought. It didn't. She no sooner saw me, the first time we met, than she burst into tears."

"Mercy, why?"

"I don't know. I was tall for my age but still thin and gawky, hardly what any warrior would call large. But she said I was too big and strong, and she did not want a giant for a husband. She reacted the same way the next time we met."

"Sakes, how old was she?"

"Thirteen the first time, fourteen the next. Our parents did not expect us to marry straightaway, though. Our betrothal was to be two or three years long, and after we married, we were to live at Ardincaple. She had nowt to fear."

"She sounds plain daft to me," Muriella said with a spark in her eyes.

Her annoyance instantly eased his apprehension. "Does she?"

"Aye, but perhaps she was especially small."

"In size, she was much like you but not as nicely curved."

"Well, although you do fill up this room, you don't usually seem overlarge to me," she said. "Forbye, I have lived with Magnus Mòr, and no one looks large next to him. How did you end it?"

Looking toward the shuttered window, he drew another breath. Then, forcing himself to meet her quizzical gaze, he said, "I didn't. She hated and feared me so much that, to avoid a third meeting, she jumped from her window and died."

"Och, poor lassie!" Muriella exclaimed. "She does sound daft, though," she added a moment later. "And I still cannot see how it was your fault. More likely, it was something that someone else said or did, unless… Were you rude to her?"

Rob winced at that question. "I took good care to be polite," he said evenly.

"I see," Muriella said with a wry smile. "I take great care to be polite to Lady Margaret, too. But when she is rude to me…" She shrugged and the smile turned rueful. "Mam is forever telling me that I must have more consideration, but when a person, especially one older than oneself, says she believes in being forthright and then carps at one, one feels as if one ought to be able to speak plainly to her. But if I do, Lady Margaret takes offense. I expect your situation was different, though."

"Just a trifle," he said with a rueful smile that probably matched hers.

Murie wanted to hug him, but although he was her husband, she felt as if she would be taking a great liberty if she did. Otherwise, she felt at ease with him.

"I have never had such a conversation with a man before," she said frankly. "I suppose if I'd had brothers—from childhood, I mean, not good-brothers who are years older than I am—I might have talked so with them."

"Lass, I may not have come eagerly to this marriage, but I do know I don't want to be your brother." He spoke with feeling but also with those twinkling eyes.

"I believe you," she said. "Sometimes, when they are wroth with me, I think that neither Ian nor Mag wants to be my good-brother, even now."

"That is not what I meant, and I think you ken that fine. Moreover, I do not propose to spend all night talking. We both need to sleep. And before we do—"

"We should consummate our marriage," she interjected boldly. "I hope you know what to do, though, because although Dree did tell me things about her wedding night with Mag—"

"I don't want to hear about it," he said, laughing. "I do know what to do."

"I don't think I have seen you laugh before," she said, rather stunned.

"Ah, lassie," he said, reaching for her and pulling her closer, "I have not often felt like laughing these past few years, but I think that I may laugh more easily now. And that, madam wife, is a compliment."

"Is it?" She wrinkled her nose and looked up at the curtain rail, although she knew he was sincere. "It does not precisely sound like a compliment."

"Look at me," he said.

Obediently, she shifted her gaze to meet his.

"Raise your chin just a wee bit."

When she did, he touched her lips lightly with his and reached to untie the white ribbon lacing of her bodice. Soon, the bodice was open, and he was deftly untying the ribbons of her shift to bare her breasts.

Murie watched his face, wondering why such simple acts, acts she had done herself or that Tibby had done for her, had never sent sensations through her body like the ones that Rob's actions caused. Her breasts swelled, her nipples hardened, and whenever his fingers brushed bare flesh, she gasped at the pleasure of his touch.

He kissed her again. This time his kiss was firmer, far more possessive.

Curious now about the reactions he was stimulating in her and even more curious about what she might stimulate in him, she reached for the buckle of the wide leather belt he wore over his plaid.

"Art sure about this, lass?" he asked.

"Aye," she said, surprised when her voice sounded hoarse. "I don't know why you thought I'd be afraid. This is astonishingly pleasurable. Dree did say that some of it was a trifle unpleasant, but I don't find it so. Do you think I should?"

Rob felt a sudden, utterly unfamiliar sensation deep within him that was warming but not sexual. Again, he felt like smiling. This time, though, instinct stopped him. Her demeanor was earnest and innocent, making him realize that what he felt was an overwhelming desire to protect her and not shatter that innocence.

"I don't think it is unusual that you should be confused," he said. "We have only just begun. What Andrena meant is that a maiden's body takes some time to grow comfortable with coupling. Will you let me finish undressing you?"

"Only if you take your clothes off first," she said, smiling mischievously. "I shall feel much too vulnerable to be naked with you if you keep your clothes on."

"That," he said, "is a request I am happy to grant."

With that, he stood, undid his belt, and cast it and the sheathed dirk on it aside. Next went the plaid, although he took time to fold it and place it on a nearby stool. When he stripped off his tunic, he heard her gasp.

The sound sent a shiver through him. Realizing that she had likely never seen a rampant male before, he reached out a gentle hand to touch her shoulder.

She slipped nimbly away and to her feet, saying as she did, "You look odd, standing there in only your boots. I hope you won't keep them on in bed."

Looking down, he shook his head at himself. Usually, he took his boots off first, if he wore any. He loosened the right one's tie and removed the wee dirk he kept in a sheath sewn into its side. The weapon was large enough to fit his hand.

"Sakes!" she exclaimed. "Do you always carry an eating knife in your boot?"

" 'Tis more than an eating knife," he said. "I usually take it with me if I wear boots, and I took it today in case Pharlain banned weapons at his court. I prefer to be armed in enemy land." He gestured at her gown. "What are you waiting for?"

Her smile turned impish. "Dree told me that Mag likes to peel her clothes off of her. I thought you—"

"I'd liefer see how a lady disrobes," he said, although the truth was he did not want to hear about Mag's choices. "I have never watched one do so before."

"Aye, then," she said. "Usually, Tibby helps me, but everything is loose and ties in front, so I can just pull it all down and step out." She proceeded to do so, and then straightened and looked expectantly at him. "Now what?"

His body stirred sharply at the sight she made, and without another thought, he scooped her into his arms and placed her gently on the bed, shoving the covers further down. "Scoot over, lass, and make room for me."

She watched, wide-eyed, as he got into bed, but when he took her in his arms and gently kissed her, she opened her mouth to him at once. Smiling against her lips, he proceeded with her first lesson.

He was so big that he took up most of the bed, and Murie wondered how she and Lina had shared that bed for years without sparing a thought for its size. Only after Dree married had they slept in separate beds.

Nevertheless, she loved the way Rob held her, and his kisses stirred her blood in ways it had never stirred before. His lightest touch excited her. His fingers drifted over her skin as if to test her responses as well as its smoothness. When his right hand cupped a breast and his thumb brushed lightly across its nipple, the sensations he stirred were enough to make her gasp. The hand did not linger but seemed to wander where it liked while he continued to kiss her.

Daringly, she touched him, too. With every one of her senses now alert, she tried to sense what he was feeling, to know if what he felt was anything like the feelings his lips and fingers ignited in her. When she brushed her thumb across one of his nipples, she thought he smiled against her lips, but he did not gasp until she stroked his belly and reached lower.

Then he murmured, "You are playing with fire now, lass. I'm nigh to taking you, as it is."

Instead of making her wary, as he had so clearly intended, his soft-spoken words ignited more feelings than ever, firing her curiosity as well as her sensuality. "Then take me," she murmured seductively. "I want to know what lies ahead."

With what sounded like a growl in his throat, almost worthy of Scáthach, he muttered something. Whether it was a prayer or a curse she couldn't quite tell. Then his hand moved to the fork of her legs and cupped its crux gently.

Slipping one finger inside her, then another, he moved them gently but firmly until she moaned. Then, just as gently, he eased them back again and began rubbing her there in a way that sent flames all through her.

Her own exploring hand also moved lower then. In her passion, she grabbed the first thing her hand came to that seemed to want grabbing.

Rob gasped then, and a moment later he rolled toward her. "You are gey eager for a maiden, lassie. At this speed, you will not be one much longer."

"I don't care," she said. "I want to know everything that married people can do."

He laughed low in his throat. "Since I have been married exactly as long as you have, I can hardly know all there is to know about what married people do. I do know a few things we can do in bed, though. Let's start with those."

Capturing her mouth again, he kissed her thoroughly and used his fingers to tease her nipples and stimulate her below until she felt as if her body would explode. Just as she thought it might, he stopped kissing her and moved to adjust his body to hers. Easing his cock to her opening, he slipped it slowly, gently inside.

No longer on the verge of exploding, her body contracted there as if to expel him, but curiosity overwhelmed every other feeling or thought. She held her breath, every fiber of her now focused on what was happening below.

"Breathe, lass," he murmured. "Try to relax. It will make things easier than if you stiffen up like a poker."

"I suppose you know all about it," she said, more grimly than she had intended. The thought that he had likely done this with other…

His chuckle stopped that half-formed thought. "I know only what I have heard about women's feelings at a time like this, mo chridhe. But I suspect that when a male my size invades the body of a female your size, a certain amount of readjustment becomes necessary. I'm being as gentle—"

A much stronger contraction below ended his words in another gasp. He was silent after that but pressed himself farther inside and began moving in and out, slowly and gently at first, until she felt a sharp pang and cried out. Then, instead of stopping, he moved faster and faster.

Murie had all she could do to endure then, let alone ponder what she was feeling. It was over soon afterward, and except for the fact that Rob seemed to have collapsed atop her, she was glad when it was.

"I hope I didn't hurt you too much, lassie," he murmured as he rolled off her and pulled her close to him.

"I won't die of it, but is that all, sir? Because next time I'd like to feel the good things a while longer."

His body seemed to shake then, or tremble.

"Robert? What is it?"

He rose up again onto his side and looked into her eyes. His were twinkling. "I'll see what I can do about those good things, lass, but you can call me Rob now. It is your right, and when people call me Robert, I fear that I have vexed them."

"Never mind that," she said. "What's wrong?"

"I was just trying not to laugh," he said. "There is much more that can happen between married people, but this is all that we will do tonight. We both need to sleep, and you will be sore tomorrow, as it is, so let's get cleaned up now."

He helped her first and then tucked her back into bed.

She watched while he attended to himself and opened the window shutters. He did not ask her what she thought about that, but she preferred them open herself, especially after her nights in the pitch-blackness of the shed. Rob climbed into bed then, and pulled her close, nestling her against him as if they were spoons.

When she awoke Saturday morning, she became aware of a dull ache inside her where his cock had been. It was not bad, though, and seeing the familiar gray dawn light pouring in through her window filled her with such delight to be home that she could not lie abed. Moreover, she had something important to do before Rob woke, lest he insist on departing for Ardincaple straightaway or, worse, forbid her to do it.

Taking care not to wake him, she slipped out of bed, quickly donned a fresh shift and her moss-green kirtle, and quietly left the room. Stopping just long enough to visit the garderobe, she hurried down to the postern door. Then, taking her cloak from its hook, she flung it over her shoulders and went outside.

As usual at such an early hour, Pluff was helping MacNur and now perhaps Mae or Annabel feed the animals inside the wall. So, with a cheerful wave to the guard on the walkway, Murie opened the gate herself and slipped outside. There was no latch on that side, so she would have to shout for someone to open it again, and Rob would likely be up by then, looking for her. Even so, he had not forbidden her to go out, and if she was going to talk with Annie, she had to do so at once.

Hurrying along the still damp woodland path to the northern river boundary, she followed the path along the riverbank eastward to the Wylies' cottage.

Knowing that Malcolm, Peter, and Tibby would already be at the tower, seeing to their morning duties, she rapped firmly on the door.

When Annie opened it, Murie grinned, opened her arms wide, and stepped into Annie's welcoming embrace.

"Och, me lady, 'tis good tae see ye safe home again," Annie said.

She was half her husband's size and so skinny that many might have hesitated to hug her too tightly, lest she break. Murie had no such qualms, for she knew that Annie was as tough as an oak branch. Most of the men at Tùr Meiloach believed that if Malcolm displeased Annie—or if any of them did—she would hand him his head in his lap.

Despite graying red hair that was as curly and frizzy as Pluff's was, and her wrinkled nut-brown cheeks, she was spry and quick-witted. And Murie knew that Annie's own excellent memory had not faded one whit.

"Annie," she said as soon as the door was shut, "I may not have much time."

"I believe ye," Annie replied with a wry smile. "Malcolm told me ye'd somehow got yourself a husband whilst ye was at Arrochar."

"I did, aye. He is Master—Nay, he is Lord MacAulay of Ardincaple."

"So Malcolm did say," Annie said, eyeing her shrewdly. "Ye must ha' kent that he would, so ye didna come here tae give me the news. What is it, lass? I ha' me doots your man will approve o' ye whiskin' about in your bare feet now that ye're a lady wi' a grand laird for a husband."

Murie knew that Rob would disapprove, so she could not claim otherwise. She said bluntly, "Annie, do you ken aught of my father's missing charters?"

Annie's eyes widened and she said with credible astonishment, "Why would ye be asking me such a thing as that? D'ye think I'm a thief or worse?"

"You know I don't think anything of the sort," Murie said. "But I do know that my father came here to this cottage the night he escaped from Arrochar, with Pharlain's men hunting for him and my mother still on the other side of the river. Malcolm was a shepherd then, and you and he took Father in."

"Aye, and their sweet new bairn, as well," Annie said. "But if ye be a-thinking that your da carried them charters wi' him, ye dinna ken nowt."

"I know he did not," Murie said. "He told me as much. He also said that they were already here at Tùr Meiloach. But he trusted you and Malcolm enough to take Andrena to you, so I'm thinking he must also have trusted you with other things. Did you know where he kept his charters? Might Malcolm have known?"

"That's all ye want tae ken, is it," Annie said grimly. "D'ye think I'd tell ye such things, even though ye were no mad enough tae put your questions tae Malcolm or tae Himself? D'ye think your da, as canny as he be, be daft enough tae tell anyone else where he'd put such valuable documents as his royal charters? Tùr Meiloach will protect them, Lady Muriella. That be all ye need tae ken."

"I know that when you call me Lady Muriella, you are angry with me," Murie said. "But this is gey important, Annie. I'm sure that Father does not know where his charters are, and he has to have them to show the King when we go to Inverness for the Parliament. If he cannot produce them there, Pharlain and his heirs will likely keep Arrochar forever. They may even win Tùr Meiloach, as well!"

"Nay, they will not," Annie said. "Did I no tell ye that this land protects its own? That doesna include Pharlain or his get, not since he betrayed his rightful chief. What it means is that when them charters do be needed, they'll show theirselves, another 'n another. That be all I can tell ye about that. Moreover, I hope ye didna defy your laird husband by a-comin' here, because I'm thinking—"

A heavy double-rap on the door interrupted her, and Murie had no doubt who stood on the other side of it.