Davina ordered that a bath and a tray overflowing with food be sent to Cairstine’s chamber. Cairstine stood in uncomfortable silence beside Eoin as servants filled the bath and laid out the food. When they left, she didn’t know where to look, but Eoin’s movement caught her eye. He walked across the chamber and picked up the folded screen that leaned against her armoire. He set it up between the bed and the tub, then he pulled the bed curtains closed. He slipped between the curtains on the side closer to the door after resting his sword against the wall. His booted feet were all that stuck out.
“I’ll remain here while you bathe, Cairstine. Rouse me if I fall asleep,” Eoin’s muffled voice reached Cairstine. She stood staring at him for a long moment before springing into action. She unfastened her belt and pulled off her arisaid but groaned when she recalled she wore a kirtle that laced in the back. She’d had a maid assist her that morning, and now she needed someone to help her with the ties. “You’re not in the bath yet, Cairrie.”
“I can’t get out of my gown. I need help, please.” Cairstine went to stand beside Eoin and drew back a curtain before turning her back to him. She sensed he rushed to pull the laces loose, not because he was eager to catch a glimpse of her as she undressed but so he could return to hiding. When she was certain Eoin couldn’t see her, she stripped down and stepped into the tub. “I’ll hurry so there will be hot water left for you,” she offered.
When Eoin didn’t answer, she slid beneath the surface. She hurried to finish washing her hair and scrubbed herself until her skin was rosy. She had no idea what to expect of the night to come. It had horrified her when Fingal asked about the bedding ceremony, but she should have trusted Eoin would never allow it, even if they’d wed for real. When she finished bathing and dressed, she moved the screen to separate the tub from the table and stool where she would sit to comb and dry her hair.
“Eoin? The bath is available,” Cairstine despised the tremble in her voice. She set her shoulders back and straightened her spine, willing herself to have more courage as Eoin emerged from the bed. He glanced at her, but he seemed to barely take note of her chemise or the plaid wrapped around her shoulders. He nodded and waited until she ducked around the screen.
It had been torture hearing Cairstine splash around in the tub, knowing she was naked on the other side of the curtains and screen, but there was nothing he could do but hide. His cock ached as he crushed the wool of his plaid in his hands, willing his arousal to subside, but every sound coming from Cairstine made his bollocks ache more. When it was his turn to bathe, he tore off his clothes and rushed to clean himself before taking himself in hand. It took little effort to continue picturing Cairstine naked in the bath, and he finished in such record time that it would have embarrassed him had he not needed to hurry. Eoin had packed three plaids and four leines for the journey, the two spare plaids for when he slept outside. One was scorched with holes in it from the fire and the other dirty from his roll in the dirt with Fingal. He was grateful he’d packed so many, and he still had a fresh leine. When he was dressed once again, he went to the passageway and summoned servants to carry away the tub. He returned the screen to its place just as the servants arrived. He turned his back to the women who fluttered their eyelashes at him, disgusted that they would attempt to flirt with him on what was supposed to be his wedding night and within their mistress’s chamber.
Cairstine noticed the disdain on Eoin’s face when the maids tried to catch his attention. It relieved her to notice that he took no interest. She feared he would take note of the pretty ones, his courtly reputation fresh in her mind. She knew she wasn’t his wife in truth, but the thought that he would dally with one of them caused her heart to hurt. She caught him watching her, and she flushed. When they were alone, Eoin pulled a chair out for Cairstine and waited for her to sit before he joined her at the table that servants brought in to hold their repast. He thought to reassure her. “I would never humiliate you like that, Cairrie.”
“Like what?” Cairstine was baffled.
“I would never stray from you if we married. I would never stray from any wife. And I will not tup any of the serving women while I’m here.”
“I would understand if you did,” Cairstine shrugged carelessly, but she gulped when Eoin’s hand slammed on the table.
“Let me clear aboot something, Cairstine. Whatever happens between us, in everyone else’s eyes we’re more than just betrothed, we’re married. That means there are no other women. There haven’t been since before we left Stirling, and there won’t be for a year and a day if that’s how long this handfast lasts. I will not dishonor either of us, nor will I play you for a fool in front of your people.”
“Yes, Eoin.” Cairstine nodded as she bit her top lip. She feared she’d soured the mood between them, but she desperately wanted to know if he was serious that he would remain celibate for an entire year if need be.
Eoin intuited the questions she left unspoken. “I told you, Cairrie. If I wanted to couple with a woman that badly, I would have done so as soon as I returned home.” Eoin didn’t look up from the chicken leg he pulled apart.
“But a year is a long time,” Cairstine protested.
“It is, but I’ve lived to see seven-and-twenty. In the story of my life, one year isn’t that long.”
“It is for a mon in his prime,” Cairstine countered.
Eoin put down the chicken leg and looked at Cairstine, reminding himself that she’d only known him for his reputation before they left court, and she’d only been familiar with other men at Stirling Castle who wished to seduce her. He understood her naivety and even appreciated her misguided concern.
“I don’t have to rut to survive, Cairrie. I may enjoy coupling, but there is more to me than that.”
Cairstine’s eyes widened when she realized how insulting her words had come across. She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Eo. I didn’t mean to be rude or to disparage you.”
“I know you didn’t. That’s why I’m not upset. I just want to be clear that I agreed to pose as your betrothed because I want to help you, to protect you. I’m not aboot to turn around and shame you in front of your clan.”
“I—I didn’t think you would. I assumed you’d be discreet.”
Eoin stared at her before leaning back and laughing. He laughed so hard that tears leaked from the corner of his eyes. He wiped them away before leaning forward to take Cairstine’s hand. “Mo leannan, there is no way for a new groom to dally with another woman and be discreet. Certainly not a mon who is a neighboring laird’s son and the husband of the resident laird’s daughter. There are few serving women who wouldn’t crow aboot that accomplishment, especially since you’re so beautiful.”
“Beautiful?” Cairstine’s brow furrowed. “What do my looks matter?”
Eoin closed his eyes and shook his head. “Think aboot it. If you were at court, and the serving women were other ladies-in-waiting, what would they boast aboot?”
Cairstine’s drew in a deep breath as understanding dawned on her. “They would boast that they’d lured you out of even a beautiful woman’s bed. They’d take extra pride in that. It wouldn’t be enough that they enticed the handsomest mon in the keep, who also is a laird’s son. They would be mighty chuffed to think they took you from me.”
“Exactly. And handsomest? Thank you, my lady,” Eoin grinned, and they resumed eating. They kept to neutral topics like their favorite items laid before them, and food they preferred or disliked. When they finished, Eoin once again summoned people to clear away the remnants of their meal. Cairstine stood near the bed while Eoin held the door open while the servants traipsed in and out, practically slamming it on the heels of a maid whose eyes lingered overly long on Eoin. Cairstine watched Eoin as he moved toward the fire, throwing an extra brick of peat on it. She grew perplexed when Eoin pulled the extra material from his plaid over his shoulders and head before lowering himself to the floor. He turned his back to her and laid down on his side. “Goodnight, Cairrie.”
“Goodnight?” Cairstine croaked before she cleared her throat. “You can’t sleep on the floor like that.”
“I’ve slept harder and colder places, Cairrie. I’m fine.” Eoin kept his back to her.
“But it’s not right,” Cairstine protested. She looked around, but short of offering to share her bed, she wasn’t sure what to do.
“Cairstine, go to bed. It’s been a long day, and you’d do well to rest before you miss your chance to get enough sleep. Matins will come all too soon.”
