“Ye are a faithful man, Iain,” she whispered. “Ye would not share the bed of any other woman, noble or whore, if ye were married.”
He kissed her then, not moving anything but his mouth on hers. He did not close his eyes then but stared at hers with a puzzled expression. Had he not realized it? Surely, he must have,for his behavior was different than most noblemen. ’Twas one of the many things she lov . . . liked about him.
“’Tis a good thing I am not married, then.”
Iain watched as her eyes changed from green and bright to something dark. He eased out of her and pushed back in, listening to her breathing as he did. She closed her eyes, leaned her head back and shifted her knees up to his hips. His next thrust filled her and she gasped at it. He let go of his control and his hunger for her took over. When she moved against him, he quickened his pace and rocked in as far as he could on every thrust.
Her breathy sighs became moans and then soft screams as her inner core tightened around his flesh and he felt his seed begin to release.
He wanted this woman as he’d wanted no other before. He admitted that, as the need to have her and possess her took over in those last few moments of satisfaction. Iain leaned down and suckled her neck, pulling the tender skin between his teeth as she screamed out her own release. He’d marked her.
“Iain,” she whispered as she caressed his head, running her fingers through his hair as her breathing eased to a slower pace. “That was . . .” She paused, and her fingers slipped down onto his back. “Simply wonderful.” He felt her body relax then. “I thank ye for that.”
“What do ye mean?” he asked, easing out of her body and gathering her close.
“For again seeing to my needs,” she explained.
“A man should see to a woman’s pleasure, Robena.”
“Ah, but a man does not worry over a whore’s pleasure or pain,” she whispered. “’Tis only about getting his coin’s worth, in whatever way he wants it.” Iain lifted her face so she had to meet his eyes then. Were all the men she . . . saw . . . like that with her? Oblivious to her needs or desire? Seeing the honesty in her gaze,he understood the truth of her life in that moment. He wanted to punch the wall.
“Do ye never wish to stop this, Robena? To be something, someone, other than a who—who ye are?” She did not reply for a few long moments. “Did ye never want to marry and have bairns of yer own instead of helping other women have theirs?”
“I always thought I would, Iain. That I would find a man who would accept me.” She let out a sigh then, and closed her eyes. He should have taken it as a warning for her next words. “Since I canna have bairns, there are not many men who would want me as their wife.”
She spoke the words without feeling, and yet he felt like he’d been struck by lightning. Robena changed before his eyes, pulling back from him and moving away, becoming a stranger right before him. She stood then and walked over and sat in the chair. That she paused to grab up and put on her shift told him more about the true distance between them than he suspected she understood.
Iain pushed himself up to sit and watched her. Robena may have spoken the words as though they mattered not, as though she’d accepted the terrible declaration, but her reaction told him how much she felt the pain of it. He struggled as he confronted both his need to find one of those men to thrash, and his guilt for never having considered her true situation. Searching for the right words to say, she surprised him by finding them herself.
“I faced the truth of it many years ago, Iain. I just choose not to think on it much, or to speak of it,” she explained as she stared at the flames in the hearth instead of him. “In a way, it makes my life easier, considering . . .”
She moved only her hand in a graceful turn to indicate her world, reminding him that he was in the cottage of the village harlot. If he were honest with himself, it bothered him. Selfishly, he knew, for it upset his own plans and needs, too.
He did want to marry again—he wanted to marry her, to keep her for himself, and he did want bairns. It took but one glance at the misery she lived with and tried to put aside for Iain to want to scream out at the unfairness of this. For her.
For her.
“Come,” he said softly. He straightened out the jumble of bedcovers and readied them for her return. “Ye will catch a chill sitting there.”
She stood but remained there staring at the fire for several minutes before coming back to the pallet. He thought she might try to hold herself away from him, so he was pleased when she settled in his arms. He let a short while pass, during which neither of them slept, before broaching the topic again.
“Yer pardon, lass,” he whispered against her hair. “I had no right to bring that up.” He kissed her head. “My nephew says I can be worse than his own mother when it comes to meddling in matters not of my concern.”
The kiss on his chest was her reply. He would leave it at that for now and try to sort out how he felt about this new twist. As the hours passed and her breathing fell into a slow, even pace, Iain lay there holding her close, unable to let her revelation go. A memory of the strange expression on Rob’s face at Iain’s mention of having bairns made him understand that others here knew about this.
When the sun rose and any doubts over his original intention were settled for him, Iain eased from Robena’s arms, having a care not to wake her, and made his way back to the keep. Rob could give him the answers and advice he needed. To ask Robena would simply cause her more pain.
And as a warrior, a man experienced in battle and strategy, Iain knew he needed to know as much as possible about his opponents, their strengths and their weaknesses. In this matter of marriage, he knew that this battle would be no less formidablethan one played out on a field of war. Iain planned to win this, just as he had won others. When he found Rob in the stables, his friend’s grim expression told him that he’d been expected.
“Ye kenned?”
At Rob’s nod, he motioned for Iain to follow away from where men were carrying out their chores, and Iain followed. They walked out to the yard and stopped at the fence. No one was training there yet, so they could speak without being overheard.
“What did she tell ye?” Rob asked, leaning his arms on the top rail of the fence, not meeting Iain’s gaze.
“That she canna have bairns.” He shrugged. “There’s not much more to say after that.”
His friend stood in silence, not adding a word, until it struck Iain. There was so much more to this. Staring at the back of Rob’s head, Iain finally understood the question that had nagged at him about Robena’s situation in this village. The truth at the heart of how she survived as the harlot of Dunnedin.
