“Have you not been nagging at me to take a woman?” the laird grumbled.
“I want you to take a wife, and Alix Givet is the wife for you. She is young enough to give you sons. She is educated and sophisticated enough to keep you from becoming bored with her. But she has also learned the lessons of loyalty to a husband, to clan, as Robena Ramsay did not. Alix will never betray you, my lord. She will never shame our name. She deserves better than to be your mistress.”
“Hush your mouth, Fenella. I want no wife, and Alix declares she will have no husband to hold dominion over her. She has agreed to my coming into her bed. The bargain has been struck!” He emptied his goblet and stood up. “I will bid you good night, kinswoman.” And he strode from the hall.
“I told you you wouldn’t get your way in this, my pretty schemer,” Iver chuckled, coming forward from the shadows to join Fenella at the hearth.
Fenella laughed. “Oh, yes, I will,” she said. “He will show her she has no need for fear, and she will respond to his passion. And then, Iver, they will fall in love, for they are two people who are meant to be together. They are already half in love, though neither knows it yet. But once he admits to loving her he will want her for his wife, for the thought of another having her will drive him mad.”
“We shall see.” Iver grinned his lopsided grin. “What else do you know will happen for certain, Fenella? Do you know you will soon be my wife?”
“Of course I do,” she surprised him by answering. “But only when the laird takes Alix to wife, Iver, my lad, will I take you for my husband. Now come and give me a kiss to seal our bargain.”
He pulled her up and kissed her heartily, a hand fondling her bottom as he did.
“Ah,” Fenella said, laughing again, “I can see you’ll be a lusty mate, which pleases me well, for we Scotts are lusty people, as I’m sure our lord is now proving.”
When Malcolm Scott had left the hall he went to his own bedchamber, where he stripped off his boots, his breeks, his leather jerkin, and his camise. Naked, he bathed himself with the water he poured into a small basin. Then, wrapping a piece of plaid about his loins, he left his chamber, walking down the narrow corridor to where Alix was probably now sleeping. There was an empty bedchamber next to his, and he would as soon as possible install her there as it had a connecting door.
Putting his hand on the door latch to her chamber he entered the room, barring the door behind him. There was a fire burning low in the hearth. He added wood to it so that the blaze burned brightly now. Then, walking to her bed, he tossed the plaid aside and climbed in next to her. She stirred as he drew her into his arms and kissed her lips gently. “Wake up, lambkin,” he murmured into her ear.
Alix slowly opened her eyes, and seeing his face before her, realizing she was being held in his arms, her heart leaped in her chest. “My lord!” she whispered.
“You did say I might come,” he reminded her.
“I know I did,” Alix answered.
“But now that I am here you are reconsidering,” he said.
She didn’t answer him, so he continued.
“This will not be rape, Alix,” the laird told her. “But you will never overcome your fears if you do not face them. You are a brave lass, for only a brave lass would have fled England in a blizzard. Now be brave for me, lambkin.”
“I don’t know what to do. What I should do,” she admitted.
He smiled warmly into her hazel eyes. “You will do what your body desires,” he said, “and you will let me guide you into the paths of passion, Alix. And you will not be fearful of telling me if something displeases you. Now, let us rid you of this garment you wear and then we will begin.”
“You want me naked?” she said nervously.
“I am naked,” he replied.
Alix’s eyes widened. What was the matter with her? Of course he was naked. Could she not see his smooth chest, his broad shoulders, and his sinewy arms? “Aye”—she nodded, feeling foolish—“you are, aren’t you?” Alix pulled her little night chemise off over her head and dropped it to the floor.
“Now,” he said, “we will become familiar with each other’s bodies.”
“How?” Her voice trembled.
He drew the coverlet back. “Like this,” he said as his eyes swept over her fair young body. The sweet breasts he had earlier caressed were even fuller, more beautiful, he thought to himself. Her waist was slender, but her hips were broader than he had imagined. Her plump mons was free of growth, to his surprise. Garbed she gave the appearance of being delicate, but seeing her naked he realized she was quite a sturdy lass. She would not break beneath his desire, which was beginning to exert itself. Her thighs were rounded and firm, as were the calves on her slim legs. “You are quite the loveliest lass I have ever beheld,” he told her.
While he had perused her so thoughtfully Alix had examined a male form for the first time. The chest, the strong arms, his shoulders she had previously noted. His torso was long, his belly flat, and beneath it a tangle of thick black curls that surrounded his manhood. Alix swallowed as she beheldit. It was pale in color, veined in blue, and long. But it lay quietly, seemingly innocent of any wickedness. She forced her eyes away from it to view his long hairy legs and large feet.
“Am I pleasing in your sight?” he asked her mischievously.
“I think I am prettier in form,” she answered him and he laughed.
“Aye, a woman’s form is fairer, I will agree, lambkin,” the laird said.
“What do we do now?” Alix asked him shyly.
