Chapter 9

9

T illie gasped as Aidan stepped back, putting a little room between them. It wasn't so much what he had said as how he had said it that had her so flustered.

"Aye, lass. I'll nay be budging on this. Me wife sleeps with me." Tillie felt an involuntary shutter rack her body. His breath had been so warm next to her sensitive ear. His words had been so… provocative.

Aidan's eyes traveled the length of her body, and Tillie felt their touch as if it was a physical caress. Everywhere he looked, his gaze left a trail of fire along her skin. She was having the strangest reaction to him. An unfamiliar pressure built in her lower belly. Her nipples tightened and ached. And her skin felt hot and clammy.

Aidan met her gaze, and the corner of his mouth quirked upward. His eyes darkened slightly, and Tillie shifted uncomfortably.

"I ken ye will enjoy the marriage bed," he said. His voice was matter of fact, but there was an odd timber to it. If Tillie had been more experienced, she would have recognized lust lacing his voice.

Her face flamed with embarrassment. "Ye shouldn't talk to me that way," she said levelly. "'Tis not proper."

He raised one eyebrow. "'Tis when it's between a man and wife," he argued.

"We are not wed —"

"Yet," Aidan interrupted. "Dinnae fear, lass, I will nay take ye to me bed before we say our vows."

"Then why are ye here? In me chamber and speakin' so inappropriately?" Tillie demanded.

"I wanted to see yer reaction." He smiled then, but it gave Tillie an ominous feeling. He looked like a stable cat that had just eaten a mouse. "And I'm nay displeased."

Tillie had no idea what he was talking about, but she sensed it was not something she wanted to understand anyway. After a moment, he turned toward the door and then paused to look back at her.

"Do ye think ye can find the dining hall to break yer fast in the morn?"

Tillie nodded, and he left without another word. She rushed over to the door and dropped the wooden bar that served as a lock across the door. It was an older type of lock, but it would serve its purpose. She then went to the door that connected her room to the Laird's and was dismayed to realize there wasn't a lock.

Biting her lip, Tillie looked around the chamber for some way to lock the door. Aidan had said he wouldn't take her to his bed until after they were wed, but she wasn't about to take his word for it. Her gaze fell on a wooden chair. If she tucked the back of it up under the door handle, perhaps that would at least slow him down if he tried to enter her room. The only other thing she could think of would be to drag the writing desk or another piece of heavy furniture over to block it, and she knew she didn't have the strength to do that.

After she shoved the back of the chair under the door handle, Tillie relaxed, feeling a little more safe. Not that she actually thought Aidan would try to sneak in and take advantage of her, but she would rather take the precaution.

A scratching sound at the main door startled her, and Tillie swung around to stare at it. The sound came again and then a muffled voice sounded.

"Me Lady? 'Tis me, Paisley. I've come to see if ye need help dressing for bed?"

Tillie walked over to the door, but she didn't open it. She just wanted to be left alone tonight. She shook her head even though she knew Paisley couldn't see her through the thick door.

"I can manage tonight, Paisley, but thank ye."

"If ye are sure?"

Tillie heard concern in the maid's voice and sought to soothe her. "Aye, Paisley. I am tired from traveling and am just going to sleep. Thank ye, though."

"Alright. If ye are certain."

"Aye."

After a moment, Tillie heard Paisley leave, her footsteps getting quieter the further she got from the door. With a thankful sigh, Tillie moved away from the door. Her gaze alighted on the hearth and saw that the fire was low, so she quickly built it up and then spent the next several minutes changing out of her dress and into her nightwear.

Tillie hadn't lied when she'd said she was tired. She climbed into bed, laid her head on the pillow, and was asleep a moment later.

The next four days were all about exploring for Tillie. Although she saw Aidan, they rarely talked except for polite greetings, but that didn't bother her since she had permission to go through the castle as much as she wanted. Paisley had taken to going with her since her main duties were to see to Tillie's needs. It had been an enjoyable time.

But it had also been depressing because Tillie had seen just how badly Castle Geamnaben was in disrepair. Every room looked to need something fixed or replaced although there were some that weren't near as bad as the others. She'd even went outside on the ramparts and was dismayed to see it crumbling in places.

Back in the main hall, Tillie turned to Paisley. "Who is the steward here? I'd like to talk to him."

Paisley grimaced. "That would be Phillip. I can take ye to him. He's usually out in the stables or the kitchen."

Tillie followed Paisley as they searched first the kitchen and then walked outside and over to the stables. Here, at least, didn't look too bad. The stone walls seemed sturdy and sealed well to protect the horses. Inside was nice too, well kept, and she didn't see much clutter. Why was the stable in much better shape than the castle?

"Phillip!" Paisley chastised as they walked further into the stable. "Get up ye lazy sack of bones. Mistress Killmartin, soon to be Yer Lady, is here to talk to ye."

The man called Phillip looked as unkept as the castle. He was leaning on a bale of hay, his clothes wrinkled and dirty. His dirty blonde hair was long and straggly and matched his overlong beard. He was also going bald, Tillie noticed, her gaze catching on the shiny scalp showing through above his forehead, and he looked to be in his mid-forties.

Tillie's perusal dropped to his hand where he held a jug of what she assumed was ale. That assumption was proved when he got to his feet and staggered a bit, his pale blue eyes shot red with too much drink.

"M-Lady," Phillip slurred. "What can I do fer ye?"

Tillie fought back a scowl at his unkept appearance. She wanted to take him to task for drinking during the day when he should be working, but she wasn't lady of the castle. Not yet.

"I'm told ye are the steward," she finally said.

"Aye," Phillip remarked and had the nerve to tip the jug of ale up, so he could take a deep pull.

Tillie couldn't stop the scowl this time as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I must say, I am a bit surprised at the state of the castle." She struggled to keep her voice cool and level. "Why, 'tis nearly falling down around our heads."

Phillip snapped up, his eyes narrowing. He had a cruel tilt to his lips, what she could see through the beard.

"She's an old castle," he barked. It was obvious he was insulted by her words, but Tillie didn't care at the moment. She didn't want to offend him since she'd barely arrived a few days ago, but she was shocked at the shape of the castle and to find its steward deep into drink when there was so much work to be done.

"Aye," Tillie agreed slowly. "I'm sure there are always repairs and upkeep to do because of that." She paused and cocked her head to the side. "What are ye workin' on now?"

"Now?" he repeated with raised eyebrows.

Tillie nodded. He glanced at the jug in his hand and fought a smile. When he looked back at her, his expression was smooth and all business.

"I'm waiting for the Laird to approve some repairs." While he looked calm, his voice held a measure of contempt and insult.

"Which repairs?" Tillie asked smoothly.

Phillip's eyes widened then narrowed. He clamped his mouth shut and just shook his head. "That's between me and the Laird."

"I am Yer Lady, or will be in a matter of days," Tillie said. She raised her chin and straightened her spine. "I suggest ye start in the main hall and get that cleaned up, unless the Laird gives ye another task. Before ye think to tell me otherwise, I will check with him, if for nothin' else but to make sure our tasks are not conflicting."

Phillip wasn't as daft as he wanted others to believe. He recognized Tillie's threat, forestalling him from trying to say the Laird had assigned him to something that he didn't. She'd made it clear she would be checking.

He scowled, his eyebrows pulling down so far it made it difficult to see his watery blue eyes. He scrubbed the top of his balding head while he stared at her and then finally gave a curt nod. Phillip didn't wait for her to excuse him or even give him permission to leave. He simply turned around and walked away. Tillie wasn't going to take him to task for his behavior. She'd made her point and that would have to be enough for today."He's a lazy one, that one," Paisley said with a shake of her head. "His Lairdship should replace him and get someone who actually cares about this castle."

Tillie agreed, but she didn't say anything. It could be that there wasn't enough coin in the coffers to see to what needed done, and that was not appropriate to talk about with a maid. Instead, she changed the subject.

"I would like to work on the garden where Laird MacLuther said our weddin' will be held. There are a lot of weeds that need pullin' and decorations and the weddin' feast to consider. We should also prepare a place in the castle in case the weather turns foul."

Paisley's red hair bounced with an enthusiastic nod. Her light green eyes lit with excitement, and a grin spread across her face. Clapping her hands together, she practically jumped up and down with eagerness.

"Aye, Me Lady. I've got lots of ideas if ye'd like to hear them."

Tillie nodded. "I'd like that, thank you, Paisley."

As they walked back to the castle, Paisley excitedly told Tillie her ideas, but Tillie only listened with half an ear. In just a couple of days, she would wed Aidan Bane, Laird MacLuther.