“Enough to get me started,” Annabella admitted. “She said it isn’t wise for a virgin to be too knowledgeable. We spoke of other things.”
“There’s nothing to it,” Myrna informed her, sounding more knowing than she should, Annabella thought. “All you have to do is lie on yer back, open yer legs, and he’ll do all the rest.”
“Not at all like the bull and cow,” Annabella teased.
Sorcha giggled. Agnes was silent but alert with her curiosity.
“Nay,” Myrna replied with a chortle. “All ye have to do is lie upon yer back, and he’ll put his cock into ye,” she repeated. “We have a wee opening in our bodies for it.”
“And how is it that ye’re so well-informed?” Agnes demanded to know.
Myrna flushed with guilt, saying, “Ian Melville told me. After all, we will be wed before the snow flies, now that Annabella is married.”
“Be careful, sister,” the new bride said softly to her sister.
“Ye let Ian Melville speak of such things to ye?” Agnes was shocked. “I don’t think Mam would approve, nor our da.” Then she said, “Ye let him touch ye too, didn’t ye?”
Sorcha giggled again, for she knew the truth of her sister’s involvement with her laddie. They had best be wed soon, she thought, for their games out on the moor could prove dangerous sooner rather than later.
Myrna said nothing in reply to her youngest sister.
“Ye’ll all have more room in the bed once I’ve gone, and then Myrna,” Annabella said in an effort to turn the conversation from the present subject. Aggie was curious, for the lads were beginning to flock about her. She was enjoying their attention, but Annabella didn’t want her bartering her chastity, as she suspected Myrna had already done. She would speak to her before she departed on the morrow. “I think it’s time for us to sleep now, sister,” she said. “The Fergusons have informed me that we will depart as soon as it is light. We have several long days’ journeying ahead of us.”
“Aye,” Myrna agreed, realizing that she had perhaps revealed a little too much knowledge of her relationship with Ian Melville. Aggie was not above telling tales. “I’ll miss ye, Annabella,” she said.
“I also,” Sorcha added.
Agnes began to cry.
Laughing softly, Annabella drew her little sister into her warm embrace, smoothing her cheek with a loving hand. “Remember that ye’re coming to visit me next summer, Aggie,” she reminded her. “Now go to sleep, my bairn.” Then she began to hum an old lullaby that she had hummed to Agnes when the lass became too large for her cradle and had been put into the big bed with her three older sisters. Agnes relaxed in her sister’s arms, and shortly after, all four Baird sisters were sleeping soundly.
Chapter 3
The first day of October dawned chill and gray. Annabella was up before the first light began to dapple the sky. She had not slept as well as she might have, being anxious and nervous about what lay ahead. Her three sisters were snoring softly, burrowed beneath the down quilt. Using the night jar she pulled from beneath the bed, she set it aside. Then, pouring some water into the pewter basin, she quickly washed. The water was icy cold and drove any thoughts of sleep from her.
She had laid her clothing out the night before on a chest at the foot of the bed. Capable of riding astride, she had taken Jean Ferguson’s suggestion from the evening before, and dressed warmly. She tucked her chemise into a pair of woolen breeks, pulling on thick wool socks to wear beneath her worn leather boots. She put on a light wool undervest lined in sheepskin, then a linen shirt over it, followed by her doeskin jerkin with sleeves lined in lamb’s wool. Unless it rained, she wouldn’t need a cloak.
When Annabella had dressed, she stopped to look slowly about her. This was her bedchamber. The only one she had ever had. High in Rath Tower, she had slept here her entire life. It was a simple room, modest in size, just large enough to hold the big bed and four little wooden trunks holding each sister’s personal possessions. Her trunk was now packed into a cart to depart for her new home.
She couldn’t help the little sigh that escaped her, along with the thought that she wished her new home were closer to her old home. At least her sisters would have that advantage, even if she didn’t. She considered waking her siblings but decided against it. It was far earlier than their usual rising hour. Myrna would complain. Sorcha would giggle sleepily, for she was always the hardest to wake. It was unlikely she would even recall saying farewell. And little Aggie would weep, for she was such a tender creature, and as the baby of the family had long ago learned that crying gained her the most attention. Annabella looked down at them, smiling. They were so damned beautiful.
“Farewell, my dearies,” she whispered softly to them. Then she left the bedchamber, descending into the hall through her brother’s chamber, and then their parents’ chamber.
Pale light was beginning to show through the hall’s two windows. The servants were already bringing in bread trenchers of oat stirabout to the high board, where the three Fergusons sat with her brother, Rob, and their parents. The trestles were filled with men-at-arms eating fresh-baked bread, cheese, and the cold meats left over from yesterday’s bridal banquet. She greeted the others at the high board as she took her place. There was virtually no conversation in the hall.
Annabella spooned up her oat stirabout, noting that the cook had added bits of dry apple to the mixture. She must remember that, she thought, as she poured a large dollop of cream onto the hot cereal. Then, knowing her day would be a long one, she took advantage of the unusually large meal, for breakfast at Rath was never quite as lavish as it was today. There were eggs poached in heavy cream and dill, along with rashers of bacon. Annabella helped herself and ate heartily, adding bread, butter, and cheese along with a cup of cider. She ate quickly, watching the Fergusons as she did. She would not be the cause of any delay, but the Fergusons were also eating vigorously.
When the meal was over, Annabella and Jean Ferguson retired to see to their personal needs before the departure. Now, in the little courtyard, the bride looked about her, experiencing a brief moment of panic. Suddenly she didn’t want to leave Rath. She would rather die unmarried, a virgin, than leave her home for a stranger’s house. Nay. Castle. What did she know of living in a castle?
But then, seeing her mother struggling to hold back her own tears, Annabella gained a mastery of her own emotions. She had made a brilliant marriage for the daughter of an unimportant tower laird. Especially considering her lack of beauty. How ungrateful would it be to fling this good fortune away? She stepped into her mother’s embrace, accepting her kisses and kissing her back.
“Now, Mama,” she gently scolded her parent. “Dinna be like our poor Aggie, who weeps at any- and everything. I am going to my husband. All is as it should be.”
“I know, I know,” the lady Anne murmured. “Ye’re the Countess of Duin now. I am both proud and happy. I could but wish ye were nearer, my daughter.”
Now her father was taking her by her shoulders. He kissed her on both cheeks and nodded silently. Annabella was surprised, for she had never known Robert Baird to be at a loss for words. Rob hugged her, whispering in her ear that if she ever needed him, she was to send a messenger to him with the little ring he now fitted on the littlest finger of her right hand. Annabella blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes and nodded at him. Her farewells were now finished.
Jean Ferguson quickly led her brother’s bride to the waiting white mare before the family could grow any more maudlin. “This is the earl’s first gift to you,” Jean said.
