“Though we were wed here,” he told her, “ye hae never entered Dunmor as my wife until now. This is yer home, Arabella Stewart, and I welcome ye wi’ all my heart. There has been no lady of the castle here since my grandmother’s time. Her portrait is in the picture gallery. I’ll show it to ye tomorrow. Her name was Jean Gordon, and she was the youngest daughter of a great highland family.”
The servant who held the door never even blinked as the earl moved past him bearing his beautiful wife in his arms, but he was unable to restrain a quick grin as his master strode purposefully up the main staircase of the house with his countess still nestled within his embrace. There would soon be bairns at Dunmor again, praise God!
Arriving at the door to his apartment, the earl reached out one hand to open it, and walking into his dayroom, kicked the door closed behind him. Calum, his manservant, was nowhere in evidence, and the earl smiled to himself. Calum was incredibly discreet. The earl set his wife down, brushing a kiss across her lips as he did so.
“I’m a proud man, Arabella Stewart, and so I tell ye that in the veins of our children will run the blood of the kings of Scotland. Never in his wildest dreams could yer father, may God assoil his brave soul, for all he was an Englishman, hae imagined such a marriage for ye as we hae made. He would hae nae appreciated the low and craven coward yer cousin Richard chose to wed ye. A man so lacking in honor he would nae come after his stolen bride, but choose instead to force her helpless mother to the altar that he might rob ye of yer rightful inheritance. I vow to ye now, Arabella Stewart, on this our wedding night, that I will nae rest until Sir Jasper Keane hae met wi’ justice, and I will do my best to see that yer beloved keep of Greyfaire is restored to ye. Remember, though, that I am but a man. I can only try, lassie.”
She nodded, touched by his words. She knew so little about this man who was her husband. She was beginning to realize that he was a marvelous puzzle, but each little piece of that puzzle she managed to uncover offered an enticing glimpse of a rather complex man. She wondered if she would ever know him completely.
“Ye’ll nae suffer as my wife, Arabella,” he told her softly as he led her into his bedchamber. “I can be a hard man, but if ye’ll but try, lovey, I’ll make ye happy, I swear it!” His lips brushed her brow, and then he undid her cloak and laid it upon a chair. Turning her about, the earl began to undo his wife’s intricate gown with extremely skilled fingers.
For good or for evil, Arabella thought, she was his wife. She remembered her parents’ happy marriage, how they had loved one another to the exclusion of all others, how gentle and considerate her father had always been with her mother, even though Henry Grey must surely have been disappointed by Rowena’s inability to produce other children for him, particularly sons. She had thought to have that same good fortune with Jasper Keane, but in her heart she knew Sir Jasper would have probably made her life a misery. Her parents’ marriage had been a miracle, Arabella thought to herself, too practical to expect another miracle, for all Tavis Stewart said he loved her. He had married her, and he wanted her in his bed that he might get heirs on her. It could be no more than that, though she was grateful for his kind words, said, undoubtedly, to soothe her fears.
Arabella felt the last of the fastenings on her bodice release, and he drew the garment off. “I do not know if we can make each other happy, my lord,” she said stiffly, turning about to face him, “but we are wed, and I will not deny you your rights over me. I know my duty. Do what you will, for I will not hinder you.”
For a moment he did not know if he could contain his amusement. She was so serious in her intent, but he could still see that she was nervous, for all she sought to mask her feelings from him. She was a wee, proud lass, he thought, and felt a small surge of gratification, for he admired her fierce spirit which, he had only begun to realize, was so like his own. Her fear, he knew, came from ignorance and innocence. Tavis Stewart loosened the tapes holding his wife’s skirts up and released the garment so that it fell to the floor, leaving his wife to stand in her chemise.
“I will leave ye to divest yerself of the rest of yer garments, madame, while I remove mine,” he said calmly. He would soon calm her girlish fears, but by the time the new day dawned, he would have taught Arabella that in passion there is no fear, only pleasure. Without another word he stripped his clothing off.
The rest of her garments?He wanted her to remove all of her clothing? Arabella snuck a peek at her husband, who was methodically removing his garments and placing them neatly upon a chair. Was he going to take themalloff? She had never seen a naked man. Swallowing hard, she bent to roll down her knit stockings even as she stepped from her shoes. Turning her back to him, she undid the ribbons that fastened her chemise, and drawing a deep breath, slipped it off. Without turning about, Arabella climbed into the big bed, pulling the coverlet up to her chin even as she turned over onto her side, her back still to him.
As the bed gave beneath his weight Arabella stiffened, her heart thumping madly. Her first instinct was to leap from the bed and flee to some nebulous hiding place, but she quickly remembered she had given him her word to neither deny nor to hinder him in the consummation of their marriage.
“Ye have not undone yer hair, lovey,” he said. “Sit up and I will do it for ye.”
Carefully she pulled herself into a seated position, her bare back visible to him, clutching the bedclothes to her chest. Tavis Stewart let his eyes slide down the graceful line of her spine. Then reaching out, he began to draw the pins from her hair, setting them upon the bedside table, his fingers unweaving her thick braids until her pale gold hair obscured the curve of her back and spread across his lap. Its texture was soft, and a faint perfume he sniffed, heather, rose from it. The sight and the touch of it actually aroused him. He had never in his life seen such beautiful hair as Arabella possessed. Gently he turned her about, and not at all prepared for the soft kiss he placed upon her lips, her mouth made a little O of surprise.
“Tell me what ye know of men and women, lassie,” he gently asked, “other than the kissing and touching,” he amended, swallowing down a chuckle when she blushed bright pink.
What did she know of men and women? Nothing!She knew absolutely nothing, thanks to her sweet but silly mother, who somehow, despite her assurances to the contrary, had never gotten around to explaining that rather important matter to her daughter. Arabella suddenly realized that she was mortified to find herself at such a disadvantage, and it was all her own fault. When Lady Margaret had offered to explain such things to her as she was explaining them to Ailis, Arabella had put her off in prickly fashion, embarrassed to admit her own mother’s failure of duty. Furious with everyone, Arabella said sharply, “My lord, what should I know? A respectable woman coming to her marriage bed expects that her husband will educate her in all that she must know.”
“A wise mother,” he replied, “prepares a lass so she may nae be fearful of the unknown.”
“I am not afraid,” Arabella lied boldly, staring into the dark curls upon his chest.
“Good!” The earl grinned wickedly into the firelit gloom of the bedchamber. “Let us begin your tutelage, madame.” He stretched his length out next to her, reclining upon one hip.
He had the longest legs, she thought, fascinated.
“Gie me yer hand, wife,” he demanded of her.
“What for?” she answered suspiciously.
“That ye might meet wi’ the instrument of yer maidenhead’s destruction, lassie,” he said, grasping her hand in his. “Ye must learn to touch me, for in touch there is great pleasure.”
Arabella snatched her hand away. “I cannot!” she cried.
“Perhaps it is too soon,” he agreed with her in a reasonable tone. “In that case I shall touch ye.” And before she had the chance to fully comprehend his meaning, his arm was cradling her back, and a hand was fondling her bare breasts.
“Ohhhh,” she said softly, as much taken aback by the melting she felt in her bones as by his touch upon her sensitive flesh. Aware that her naked body was fully exposed to him even as his was to her sight, she found she had no time for embarrassment, for everything about this moment was so new and unfamiliar.
Tavis Stewart sighed deeply with pleasure at his first real look at Arabella. “Lovely,” he said almost to himself as he cupped a breast in the curve of his palm and found that it fit perfectly. Bending his dark head down, he leaned forward to kiss the nipple, his tongue snaking out to encircle the hard crown of flesh which had been soft and pliant just moments before. Unable to restrain himself, he took the nipple into his mouth and suckled upon it.
“Ohhh,” she cried out again, her resolve not to hinder him disappearing as she considered that perhaps her lack of knowledge in these matters would put her at a severe disadvantage with him. Squirming away from his teasing tongue, she fended him off. “My lord! Please, I beg of you, do not do that! If you would couple with me, then do so, but this dallying unsettles my nerves!”
Tavis Stewart burst into laughter, much to his bride’s extreme mortification. He was unable to help himself, but seeing her outraged expression, he quickly regained control of himself. “If, lassie, I was of a mind to simply couple wi’ ye, I would not,” he told her. “Yer a virgin, lovey, and I would nae give ye any hurt; but such delicacy of feeling aside, I canna couple wi’ ye untilIam ready to do so, and alas, I am not.”
“Why not?” she demanded, her tone quite plainly asking why he did not find her irresistible enough to be driven by blind lust.
