She appeared kind. She seemed to understand the concept of duty, and was ready to accept her position as his countess, with all of its responsibilities. He doubted any other bride and groom had ever begun as well as they had.
As for the concept of love, he wasn’t even certain such a thing existed. A man could not be bothered with such foolishness. Respect. Duty. These were the things that made a good marriage. And then he recalled an odd occurrence as his mother lay dying. As he sat by her side, she had called out the name Giles several times in her delirium. He had asked Jeanne about it, but her eyes had gone blank, and she shrugged. She knew of no such person. But Angus had heard the passion, the longing, in his mother’s voice. Had she come into her arranged marriage with his father loving another? If she had she had nonetheless been faithful and loyal to his father.
Realizing they were still standing before all in the great hall, the earl said, “Well-done, madam. Ye may be dismissed now if you so choose.”
Annabella stepped back up to the high board, briefly bidding each of her guests good night, thanking Pastor Blaine for his service and the blessing he had offered earlier.
Then she joined Jean, and the two women departed the great hall, hurrying upstairs to Annabella’s new apartments. Once there, Annabella could not suppress her yawns as Jean divested her mistress of her beautiful garments. The bride quickly washed her face and hands, rinsed her mouth with mint-flavored water, and was dressed in a silk-and-lace night garment.
She almost fell asleep as Jean brushed out her long hair, undoing any tangles it might have encountered during the course of the afternoon and evening. “Shall I braid it?” she asked, and her mistress nodded sleepily. Jean’s quick fingers wove the long, thick hair into a single plait. Then she tucked Annabella into the big bed with its lavender-scented sheets and down pillows. “Don’t be afraid, Annabella,” she told the younger woman. “Angus is reputed to be a skilled and thoughtful lover. He will treat ye gently, for he knows ye’re a virgin. Would ye like the taperstick left burning, or is the firelight enough for ye?”
“Snuff the stick,” Annabella said. She struggled to remain awake. She had one more duty to perform this day, and she would not shirk that duty.
“Good night then,” Jean said, and she hurried from the bedchamber, closing the door softly behind her as she went.
It was such a big bed, Annabella thought. Her sisters would fit quite comfortably into it. Her sleepy eyes scanned the chamber. It was a gracious space at least four or five times the size of the little room she had inhabited at Rath. Jean had not drawn the bed curtains. The hearth opposite her bed burned brightly, warming the room. There was a large upholstered chair set at an angle by it. The floor, like the one in the dayroom, was covered in a wool carpet, this one dusky blue and cream in the firelight. She would be interested to see whether the colors held in the daylight. It was a lovely room.
Hearing the click of a lock, she turned her head toward the sound. The earl stepped into her bedchamber through a small door that had been hidden in the paneled wall. He was wrapped in a brocaded robe, but his feet were bare. Annabella realized that beneath the dark silk he was undoubtedly naked. He must have worn the garment for her sake, believing that the sight of a male body might frighten her. She felt her fingers clutching at the down-filled silk coverlet as he seated himself on the edge of the bed.
“We have one final duty to perform this day, madam,” he said.
“I know,” Annabella replied.
“And ye are prepared to fulfill it, madam, are ye not?”
“Aye, my lord, I am,” she answered him.
“Yer mam has told ye what is required of ye?” He waited for her reply.
“I am to lie upon my back with my legs open to ye,” Annabella responded.
“God’s blood!” he swore softly, and then he laughed. “I think, madam, we shall leave this duty for another time,” the earl told her. “Ye’re exhausted by yer long journey, and coupling wi’ a man ye have known but a few hours will not be pleasant for ye. I have no desire to have to deal wi’ a tired little virgin tonight. We both understand that the purpose of our union is to create heirs for Duin. There is time enough for that, lass,” he finished as he reached out and stroked her face with a gentle hand.
But instead of being reassured by his words, Annabella was horrified and found herself near tears. “Is it that ye find me so displeasing, my lord, that ye canna bring yerself to do what needs be done?” she asked him in a tremulous voice.
“Nay, nay, madam,” he sought to reassure her. “I am a man of great carnal appetites, lass, but never have I forced a woman to my will. That is what I would be doing tonight if I insisted on deflowering ye. I want us to get to know each other better, and when we do what will come next will come naturally to both of us. I dinna find ye displeasing at all. Ye have surprised me and ye quite delight me, for ye have charm, manners, wit, and intellect. What is beauty in comparison to those?”
“Do ye speak of love?” she queried him. She didn’t quite understand what he was getting at. She had wed him. It was their wedding night. Why was he was turning away from her? And yet . . . She paused in her thoughts, realizing that she was actually finding herself relieved that she should not have to take the next step with him tonight.
“I know naught of love, madam,” he said honestly. “I know of lust, and ye will discover that delightful emotion quite soon, for though I will give ye time to grow used to my presence, we shall kiss and caress at will, which will give rise to your lust. It is ye who will lead the way for us as ye seek more and more knowledge of a passionate nature. Soon enough, the time will come when we will do what is expected of us, madam. Do ye understand better now, and agree wi’ me? Or will you insist that I mount ye now? I will do whatever ye choose, madam.”
“Aye, I understand ye,” Annabella said, and she did. He was a strange man, she thought, wondering whether any other bridegroom would have been as thoughtful.
“Give me yer hand,” he said. Without hesitation, she obeyed him. He took the hand in his own, kissing first the back of it, then placing lingering warm lips upon her palm and her wrist.
She shivered with delight but said nothing.
The dark green eyes twinkled at her. “I can see ye’re going to be an obedient wife, madam,” he told her.
“I will do my best to please ye, my lord, but there may be times when I displease,” Annabella said candidly. His lips on her flesh had been deliciously disturbing. A frisson of emotion had shot through her that she did not recognize when his flesh had met hers.
Angus Ferguson saw the brief confusion upon her face. He was surprised. A virgin, aye. But one so artless? It become more and more obvious to him that she had not dissembled in any way when she told him she had never been courted. Had there ever been a time when he had known such pure and perfect innocence? Releasing the small hand in his, he reached out with his other hand to cup her face in his big palm. “Will ye trust me, madam?” he asked her softly.
Again Annabella felt that unfamiliar stirring within her. His dark green eyes were like a pool in the depths of a deep sunlit forest. She wanted to immerse herself within that pool until she became one with it. His touch both warmed and aroused her. “Aye, my lord,” she told him low. “I will trust ye.”
They called her plain of face, and yet he thought the solemn little face now looking up at him with wary eyes had a sweetness about it that touched him. Leaning forward, he brushed her lips with his own, but then the very sweetness of those lips aroused a ferocity within him that was difficult to control. A hand cupped her head. His mouth pressed down hard on her soft mouth and his kiss became demanding. To his absolute surprise she met the wild kiss with a fierceness of her own until he broke the embrace, saying, “I shall bid ye good night then, madam.” Angus Ferguson arose and returned back through the little door in the paneled wall, ducking his head as he went to avoid hitting the low arch.
Her lips still burning, Annabella lay back against her plump pillows. She didn’t know whether to rejoice or to weep. She knew so little about bed sport, and yet should she have known more? Her mother had said a virgin should not be knowledgeable. She had been vague in her explanations. Was Myrna’s blunt explanation closer to the truth?
