“I have a feeling that she kens the truth of it anyway, Anice.”
“She does?” At his nod, she continued, “Then why carry out this farce?” Her head tilted towards the petal-strewn bed and the decorated room.
“The Lady Margaret is ever hopeful. She wants to believe that the best will happen, even from the worst of beginnings.”
He stepped further into the room and pushed the door closed behind him. At least he would not rest among vermin now that the laird’s wife had cleaned the chamber. A bed of blankets on fresh rushes before the hearth would be more comfortable than many other nights he’d spent on the ground or on cold stone floors. As he walked closer, he realized that she held a bundle on her lap. Craig.
“I had to feed him, Robert. I missed two other feedings, and the pain of it...” Her words faded as she tried to explain it to him. He did not mind if she nursed the bairn here, ’twas her room now as much as his. “Lady Margaret tried to convince me to let the wet nurse see to him this night, but I needed to.” Her one hand moved to her chest and she pressed it against her breast.
“If ye dinna feed him, ’tis painful then?” Robert thought he understood this situation. Like cows if not milked, he thought, and he winced then too as he realized his wife would not be complimented by such a comparison.
“Aye.”
He knew now that her clipped response told of her embarrassment on the topic. And since he did not want to dwell on the shape or size or hardness of her breasts, he changed the subject.
“Will he sleep with us here?” He looked around the room and spotted a cradle near the bed. The decision had been made already.
“It is up to you, Robert,” she said as she rose from her seat in the corner. Lifting the babe to her shoulder, she patted his back until he let out a loud burp. “Once the piglet is fed, he will sleep anywhere.”
He smiled at her name for the babe. She could have asked him for anything and he would have granted it while looking at her like this. The sheer nightrail trailed on the floor and her hair hung down in waves over the plaid she wore as a shawl. The red and gold shades of her tresses were lit by the fire and even her skin glowed from it. The bruise on her forehead was fading even now and would be gone before their return to Dunnedin.
All he could think about was unwrapping her and making love to her before the fire. He wanted to see the blush steal its way up her breasts and onto her neck and face. He wanted to kiss and touch every part of her and he desperately craved her touch on him. And mostly, he wanted her to return his kisses. Return them with vigor and wanting and of her own choice. Sighing, he realized that he was only fueling his own lust and for naught. Nothing but his own discomfort and sleeplessness would come from letting his desires get out of control.
She must have thought his sigh was one of displeasure for she walked to him and reached out in supplication. “Robert, truly, it will be as you wish. Lady Margaret said to call and a servant would take him to the nurse’s chambers for the night. I do not wish to disturb your rest.”
“Anice, ye misunderstand. If the bairn sleeping with ye will ease yer own rest, then keep him here. The bed is big enough for the two of ye.”
Her eyes widened and she looked from him to the bed and back again.
“Where will you sleep?”
“There,” he said, pointing at the spot in front of the hearth. “’Tis many a night I’ve slept on worse. With a blanket or two, it will be just fine.”
She looked at him in frank disbelief and then turned and placed the babe in the center of the bed. Opening one of the storage trunks, she pulled out several thick blankets and began to arrange them on the floor.
“Here, Anice, give them to me.”
“’Twould seem to be the least I can do for you, Robert.” She layered the blankets and took a pillow from the bed and placed it for his use. “This would not seem to be such a good bargain for you, Robert. I cannot imagine what there is in it for you.”
At that moment, with his body’s desires raging and his mind warring with his wants, he could not think of anything good in this situation either. Mayhap the morning would bring a clearer mind and a swim in the loch outside the village would ease his lust. Then he could understand why he had come up with this hellish torture called a marriage in name only and why he had entered it of his own free will. He finally just grunted at her question, and, peeling off his plaid, he lay down and wrapped himself up before the fire. He could tell a long night awaited him.
He had barely closedhis eyes when the knock came on the door. It could not yet be morning, but the light shining through the small glass window told him it was. He climbed from his cocoon of covers and hastened to the door, not wanting to wake Anice or the bairn. Opening the door a crack, he saw young Kevin standing in the hall.
“The laird said to join him at the stables when ye can, Robert.”
“Tell Duncan I will be there immediately, Kevin,” he whispered.
“He said to tell ye no’ to rush. He said there’s time to break yer fast.”
Turning back and seeing Anice asleep on the bed, he knewthis was the perfect time to leave. She would have the privacy she needed to take care of the bairn’s and her own needs and he would be able to seek out the relief of the icy waters of the loch.
He nodded at the boy and closed the door. Finding a clean length of plaid, he placed it over his belt on the floor, positioned the pleats, lay on it, and gathered it around him. He still wore the shirt from yesterday, but it would suit his needs for now. Adjusting the extra material over his shoulder, he hooked on the large brooch to hold it in place. He tugged on his boots and was ready to leave when he heard her yawn.
“Is something wrong, Robert, to take you from your bed so early?”
The morning huskiness of her voice wakened his desire for her once more and he stood and stared at her as she sat up in bed... in his bed. Her hair, now loosened from her sleeping braid, flowed over her shoulders and fine wisps of it encircled her face. The sun’s rays beaming through the window behind her made it appear as a sparkling crown on her head and his fingers itched to move through it again as he had during their kiss at dinner. If she knew her appeal, she did not show it. Instead she tortured him further by stretching and yawning.
Her breasts, now full and ready for her son’s appetite, whetted his own as they pressed against the thin layer of linen she wore. His body reacted vigorously to the enticing view she presented and he knew he had to leave before his lust overpowered his control.
