She grabbed Skye’s hand, sat her in the chair by the fireplace, and then brought her the tray. Skye obediently picked the bread back up as well as a small slice of cheese.
“After ye eat, ye can wash, and then we’ll start with yer hair. The curls look wonderful, me Lady. Maude and Rhona will help yestyle it any way ye like. Maude can work magic on anyone’s hair. She’ll enjoy working on yers.”
Skye tried to smile but could only nod.
“Ye are very quiet,” Nellie noted. “Are ye havin’ regrets?”
Skye swallowed the mouthful of food. “Nay, nae regrets. But I feel nervous, and I cannae sit still. I met Arran three days ago when he kidnapped me, and now I’m marryin’ him. It’s like being on a seesaw.”
Nellie nodded her head. “It is a bit unusual, I’ll give ye that. But our Laird, he is strong. The MacArthur lands arenae vast, but our clan is well-fed, and we’re prosperin’. He can take care of ye, and ye’ll never want for anythin’.” She grinned mischievously. “And he’s nae hard to look at either.”
Skye didn’t disagree, but before she could reply, Nellie continued.
“Ye will come to ken him better. And I will tell ye this…” Nellie paused, reaching for Skye’s hand. “I have lived here all me life, and nay woman has ever had to live in fear of her husband, faither, or any other man. Not even on his worst days did Arran’s father lay hand on any woman. Arran understood his faither’s teachings. Foolish James might have been in his grief, but he taught Arran well.”
“Arran said somethin’ about how much his faither loved his maither,” Skye said tentatively.
“Och, that he did. Nay man cared for a woman more than did James Gilroy for his Elspeth. Mark me words, given time, Arran will love ye in the same way. Even should love nae come right away, he’ll never raise hand to ye. Ye willnae be abused here, me Lady.”
Skye looked into Nellie’s sincere and caring face, and squeezed her hand. Her words provided comfort, but she was still unsettled.
She wished she could be as optimistic.
“And what do ye ken of the marriage bed, lass?” Nellie asked.
Skye, glad she hadn’t taken another bite of cheese, sputtered out a reply. “Well, I… I… aye… I know what happens… I think.”
She had helped Ava, her healer friend from Braewall, deliver babies, and she knew how they were made.
Her cheeks flushed red, and she said a silent prayer of thanks when Maude and Rhona walked in at that moment. This was not a conversation she wanted to have right now.
Me maither should be here.
“Ye’ll be all right,” Nellie continued. “I’ve kenned Arran most of his life, and I’d wager he’s a skilled lover. Do ye nae think, girls?”
Skye wanted to crawl under her bed.
Both servant girls burst into laughter. What followed was a prediction of a night of unrivaled passion with a strong, well-endowed man who possessed great stamina.
“Wait, wait,” Skye interjected. “How… Stamina? How long does the, uh, the… ye ken. How long does it take?”
“Depends,” Nellie replied. “Thirty seconds or thirty minutes. Every man is different.”
Skye processed that information. She’d seen many a boy and man naked, but her curiosity led her to ask, “Some men are larger than others. I ken that. But does the first time always hurt?”
“It hurts,” Rhona said somberly.
Skye’s face paled.
“But in the most delicious way!” Rhona clarified, laughing.
Skye looked aghast. Nothing about thirty minutes of bedding that hurt sounded delicious in any way.
“Maude! Rhona! I’m shocked!” Nellie exclaimed in a voice that revealed she wasn’t shocked at all. “We have a wedding in less than two hours. Ye better get to it, now,” she scolded, before shooting Rhona a warning look. “Daenae listen to her, me Lady. Yer Arran will ken what to do.”
Skye was washed from head to toe, and once dry, Nellie slipped a fine linen shift over her head, followed by the wedding dress.
Maude beckoned Skye to the vanity chair. Once seated, her hands gathered Skye’s long curls, and after trying a few styles, they all decided that leaving her hair down was best. She then pulled a little hair back from Skye’s face and secured it with a floral band.
