Bring the lady another bowl of porridge. Hers has cooled.”
“Nay, Ian. I do not need any more.”
She challenged him again, even while the words of her apology still echoed through the hall. He closed his eyes for a moment and then let out his breath. Glaring at her in her defiance, he repeated his order to the servant once again.
“Is this to be the way of it, then? I give an order and you disobey it?”
Part of him wanted to laugh—at the least, she was no empty-headed ninny as he feared he would be forced to marry. Although his well-developed reputation served him, it also caused women, and some weak-nerved men, to lose their wits around him. If he had to be married, he was inwardly pleased that she did not shrink from him and his every word. But, as laird, he could not, would not, have every order he gave undermined by her.
Jocelyn finally met his gaze and he watched her expression change from defiant to something less disobedient. She pursed her lips and looked as if she was fighting to keep her words in. Good. Let her consider her actions before she took them. He knew she understood him when she moved her bowl over to the side where Ian stood waiting for the outcome.
“Please, Ian,” she said in a quiet voice.
He nodded, satisfied. This could all work out. He finished his meal and engaged Duncan in a discussion about their duties for the day. Connor also took advantage of the time to make a more thorough study of his wife as she sat next to him eating her meal.
She was plain in appearance; her face, eyes and hair were neither exceptional nor unattractive. After Kenna’s extraordinary beauty, Connor did not want another comely wife. She did move with a certain grace as she walked and her form was definitely the better of her attributes. When the sheet she’d held around her had dropped, exposing her bare shoulders and the slopes of her breasts to him, he knew, and his body’s reaction told him, that consummating their union would not be difficult for him. Shifting now in his chair as the memory of her creamy flesh stirred him once more.
As if she felt his scrutiny, their eyes met. Mayhap he had been premature in his assessment of her features, for when her eyes flashed as they did now at him, they were quite attractive. Turning back to face Duncan, he tore his gaze from hers. Aye, ’twould not be difficult after all. Thoughts of her naked beneath him, soon, filled his mind with images that would be better left until later.
“You should see the seamstress today and have some clothes made.”
“I can sew, my lord, and I have clothes…just not with me. Your orders did not allow me time to pack my belongings.”
“Then I will replace them with new since I cannot have the Lady MacLerie wandering through keep and village as I found her this morn.”
Her mouth opened and shut and a becoming blush crept up her cheeks. So, she could be quieted.
“Ailsa will make arrangements for you. If you will excuse me—” he rose and nodded to Duncan who stood next to him “—we must see to our duties.”
They walked quickly from the hall, the heat in his body cooling even as the distance between them grew. Tonight should prove interesting. Tonight she would be his and the marriage would be consummated.
Tonight.
Darkness had fallen some time ago, yet Connor had not shown himself within the keep. Each time she asked one of the servants if this was his habit, she was met with various grunts or nods and she knew no more than before she asked her questions. Realizing that they would not be cooperative with her efforts to learn more about her husband, she finally gave up and sought comfort and privacy in her chamber.
The day had been a frustrating one for her. She visited the seamstresses within the keep and then the cobbler in the village, all under Ailsa’s watchful eye. Her excursion was successful for a few garments were available for her and an additional pair of shoes was found that needed only a few minor adjustments to fit her well enough. Returning with her new possessions, Jocelyn was surprised to find that Connor had not arrived back from his duties. Dinner came and passed and his absence from the hall made her too uncomfortable to eat under the scrutiny of his people. She asked for a tray to be delivered to her in her room and that was where she had spent the last few hours.
Waiting.
Jumping at every noise.
Anticipating the coming night…and him.
She knew that the reprieve granted her last night was over and she would be held to the bargain made. Could she do this? Expecting to marry Ewan, Jocelyn had welcomed and even enjoyed his occasional but fervent kisses. She knew what was expected of a wife in the marriage bed, just not the details of the act itself. She just could not imagine now submitting to this stranger and his desires. She shivered as waves of fear and confusion and curiosity pulsed through her.
Cora, the young girl who had precipitated her misunderstanding with Connor, was back, this time straightening the room and tending to the fire in the hearth. Jocelyn stood by the window, gazing out over the yard. She could see the guards moving up on the main wall in their slow progression around the perimeter. No other movements were apparent to her as she tried to calm the emotions within her.
A soft knock at the door brought her around quickly. Cora opened the door, but instead of her husband, Ailsa entered carrying a pile of linens. The older woman whispered something to Cora and the girl was gone from the room in a few moments. After laying her bundle on the bed, the servant approached her.
“Here now, my lady. I’ve brought ye a fresh gown and a robe. After ye change, I’ll brush out yer hair, if ye’d like?”
Moving without thought, Jocelyn did as Ailsa directed and soon found herself wrapped in a heavy robe and sitting before the fire. The long, slow strokes relaxed her frazzled nerves as she awaited her fate. Would he arrive soon? Would he simply take her and give her no choice in the matter? She shifted nervously on her stool as more and more doubts and concerns came to mind.
“My lady, is there anything ye would like to ask me?”
Jocelyn was startled by the offer and turned to look at the servant. “What do you mean, Ailsa?”
“I thought that mayhap yer own mother did not prepare ye for yer wedding night.”
“Nay, Ailsa, I have no questions for you.”
“Good then. Yer mother told ye what to expect?”
“Well, actually she told me that my husband would tell me what I needed to ken,” Jocelyn whispered, not certain now of the wisdom of such a thing. If it had been Ewan, mayhap, but now that Connor was the one, she wished she knew what was to happen between them.
“If ye’re certain?” Ailsa asked again.
“You heard the lady, Ailsa. Her husband will answer her questions.”
Jocelyn gasped and turned. The sight of Connor, his height and breadth filling the doorway, took her breath from her. She clutched the edges of the robe more tightly and watched as Ailsa nodded at him and moved around him to leave. He stepped farther into the room and closed the door behind him, dropping the bar into place with a noisy thump. She could not move as he approached, her throat tightened and her chest would not take in the air she needed. After no more than three steps, Connor stood before her and she finally raised
