“I’ll help ye undress, my lord. Grizel says yer wife awaits ye in her chamber.”
Fin breathed a sigh of relief. What a fool he would have looked going from door to door seeking Maggie. He stepped into his own chamber, and with Archie’s aid stripped off his wedding finery. “Should I ask where these garments came from?” he said dryly as he pulled off his doublet.
“Honestly come by, my lord, I swear it,” his serving man assured his master. He handed him a rag with which to wash. Lord Stewart had bathed fully after the challenge.
Fin washed himself and scrubbed his teeth with the rag. He debated whether to wear the white cotton nightshirt. Probably best he wear it into her bedchamber tonight as she was hardly used to the naked male form. He didn’t want her shrieking with fright, and he would have to go through the narrow corridor both coming and going. He turned to go to the door, but Archie’s hand stopped him.
“Nay, my lord, this way,” the serving man said, and he opened a small curved top door in the wall that Fin had not noticed before, so well was it hidden in the paneling. “Press the carved rose on the other side when you wish to return to your own chamber,” Archie murmured in a low voice.
Lord Stewart stepped through into another bedchamber. He turned to carefully close the door behind him, seeking and finding the rose first. The room was dim but for a fire in the hearth, and a taperstick on a small table next to the bed where Maggie now sat up in her bed, straight as a poker, the look on her face a combination of nerves and fear.
Maggie had stiffened as the wee door had swung open and her husband stepped through into the chamber. When he turned to come towards the bed, she swallowed hard.
Fin sat down on the edge of the bed. “Well, madam,” he said, “here we are at last as God, the king, and the laws of Scotland would have us.”
“I am ready to do my duty,” Maggie said primly.
Fin laughed. “Oh, Maggie mine,” he replied, “it may be a duty we do for Brae Aisir, but I want it to be a pleasurable duty for us both.”
“How many women have you loved?” she asked, surprising him.
“I have loved none, but I havemade loveto enough to know what is pleasing to lovers,” he said. “There are men who believe a woman’s body is for their pleasure alone. They take what they want from women and care nothing but for their own enjoyment. I have learned that a man’s greatest pleasure comes from giving his woman pleasure too. You are a virgin, of course. Tell me what you know of lovemaking so I may correct the misconceptions first, and then add to your knowledge.”
“Could we not just do what needs doing, my lord?” she asked nervously. “I ache in every joint from today’s challenge, and want nothing more than sleep.” Her cheeks were pink at having said the blunt words just spoken.
Fingal Stewart laughed aloud. “Oh, Maggie mine,” he said, “never have I known a woman of such candor as ye are. But what we do this night is more than just a duty.” Reaching out, he took her hand in his. It was cold, but her slender fingers curled about his. That was good, he thought. “You aren’t afraid of me, are you?” he asked her.
“Nay,” she responded. “I know ye now and believe ye to be a good man.”
“Are ye afraid of the coupling?” he queried.
“Nay!” Maggie quickly said. Then blushing, she admitted, “Mayhap a little, but only because I am not certain what is expected of me.” She sighed. “I do not like being so wretchedly ignorant, my lord.”
“Ye must trust me, Maggie mine,” he said, “and I have learned these past months that your trust is not easily or quickly given.”
“To not be in control of my life is difficult, my lord. I know these are words a man does not often hear from the lips of a woman, but I trust you enough to utter them to you without fear of a beating.”
“I will never beat you, my lady wife. A man who beats a woman is admitting his own defeat, and I have never admitted defeat in all my life. Now we both know what needs doing this night, and we shall do it. Then we shall sleep, for I tell you truly that my body aches even more than yers. Ye were not an easy opponent to overcome, Maggie mine.” He smiled warmly at her as he spoke.
The words came out before she might stop them. “Ye dinna beat me, my lord.”
“I disarmed ye, lass,” he replied with a grin, appreciating the fine line of distinction she had drawn and not in the least offended. “And then yer grandsire declared me the victor. Do ye really want to disagree with the old man?”
“And break his heart?” she replied. “Nay, I do not. But ye did not really beat me, my lord. My silence allowed ye the victory, but I am not unhappy with the outcome.”
“I am very relieved to hear it, lass,” he told her softly. Then he brushed the back of her hand with his lips, slowly kissing each finger upon it. He turned the hand over and placed a deep kiss upon her palm as he looked into her lovely face.
Maggie’s hazel eyes grew wide with surprise as she felt a ripple of excitement race through her. She had never known the palm of one’s hand could be so sensitive.
“Take off yer night garment,” Fin’s voice instructed quietly, his eyes meeting hers.
“Will ye take off yers?” she countered, her heart beginning to thump in her ears.
In response, he loosed her hand and pulled his night garb off, tossing it carelessly to the floor. “Turnabout is fair play, madam,” he told her.
Unwilling to play the shrinking virgin, Maggie yanked her gown over her head and tossed it bravely onto the floor next to his, but she grasped the coverlet up with one hand to cover her naked breasts, not daring to look at him now.
Then to her surprise Fin stood up. “Look at me,” he said to her. “Look and see how a man is fashioned. If you have questions, I will answer them.”
