“The laird summons me. I must go now,” he said as he turned away to gather his weapons and sporran.
“Now? This early? Is something amiss?”
Anice pushed back the covers, slid her feet to the floor, and reached for the plaid shawl next to the bed. Pulling it around her shoulders, she turned away from him and in but a few moments rebraided her hair. She never realized the unobstructed view of her round, soft bottom that she presented to him with her motions and although he could barely breathe, he could not look away. Memories of holding her on his lap during the ride here flooded his mind and his erection grew harder. Even the loosely hung plaid around his waist would nothide it from view.
This was, he realized in that moment, to be his punishment, his penance for his many sins. He would live in a constant state of wanting his wife who, in spite of the fact she had borne a son, was as innocent now as the day she married. She would never know the effect that her everyday movements, the way her hair flowed down her back or the sway of her hips as she walked, drove him to the brink of explosion. He was to pay for his lies and his coveting by being so near to her and yet never having and never touching her? ’Twould be a long and torturous life ahead if that was the Almighty’s plan.
“I must see to the laird’s call, Anice. I will see ye later in the day.”
She called out a farewell to him, but he could only grunt in response. He could not risk another look at her without also risking her seeing his current state of arousal. And, innocent or not, the sight would be difficult to misunderstand. He left, pulling the door closed behind him. A visit to the loch and then to find the laird. And, with sufficient planning, he would not see her until she was asleep once more that night.
24
“He seems to grunt a lot.”
Her answer to Lady Margaret’s questions caused the other women in the room to exchange knowing glances and then soft laughter filled the room. The laird’s wife reached over and patted her hand in a comforting sort of way.
“He is a good man, Anice. Give him time to adjust to yer ways.”
“But my mother taught me that ’tis a wife’s duty to adjust to her husband. Is this not the way of it then?”
She was confused. She knew how to wheedle what she wanted from Struan; their many years together had shown her his weaknesses and she used them as she needed to in order to accomplish her tasks and duties at Dunnedin. She somehow thought that dealing with a husband would be different from that. Anice shook her head and looked for guidance from Lady Margaret.
“Now, dear, dinna fash yerself over these matters. Ye and Robert will learn each other’s ways soon enough.”
“’Tis not the same, Lady Margaret. He said you knew...” She realized the others in the room were listening with unabashed curiosity and she could not expose the real basis of their marriage.
“Here now, ladies,” Lady Margaret called out. “Please give us some privacy.”
Anice watched as the women gathered up their work and left the room. She feared speaking of such private matters even with this woman, but she needed some advice. And so far, all that she’d seen of and heard about the laird’s wife told her this was the person to ask.
Lady Margaret stood and walked to the other table and poured both of them some ale. Bringing it back to where she sat, the older woman sat down and looked directly at Anice.
“So, ’tis to be a marriage in name only then? No’ a true union of man and wife?” Although she did not expect such a blunt question, Anice could detect no sense of disapproval in her tone.
“That is our agreement.”
“And is that what ye want? Marriage to a man who will no’ share yer bed? Do ye no’ crave more bairns and the happiness of a true marriage?”
Anice began to answer and then stopped. Did she want that? Years ago, when preparing for her move to Dunnedin, she had dreamed of a wonderful life, filled with children and a husband and her duties as lady of the clan MacKendimen. Her innocent imaginings were far from the reality of her life once she arrived. Sandy, whom she had met only twice before, was in England, and she spent her time carrying out Lady Edana’s orders. Then after the lady’s death, she took over and ran the keep as chatelaine and prepared for her wedding—the wedding that did not come until five years later. Memories of that wedding and the weeks after reminded her of what she wanted.
“I want simply to return to my duties in Dunnedin and be allowed to carry on as I did before, without the attentions of a husband.” There. That explained it clearly.
“Even if that husband is Robert?” Lady Margaret sipped from her cup and looked at Anice over its rim. Anice nodded. “Then why did ye seek him out? What did he do to ye that ye would punish him in this way?”
“Punish him? I do not understand your meaning.”
“Well, lass. Ye have saddled him for the rest of his life with a wife in name only, one who will no’ give him bairns of his own, one who will no’ share his bed. It surely sounds to me that ye meant to punish him.”
Anice reeled at her words. She had not thought of the impact of her actions on Robert’s life. She had sought him out because she trusted him to help her, never dreaming of the solution he would suggest. In her desperation to escape marriage to another man and losing her babe, she hadsentenced him to a life without a family to call his own.
“I did not realize...” she whispered, horrified at the results of her actions.
“Can ye no’ commit to him in a real marriage?” Lady Margaret’s words were soft, but the question terrified her.
“I cannot. Not even knowing now the wrong I did against him.” She had told him that he would have to take whatever he wanted from her, that she could not offer it to him. He knew the truth of their arrangement. Why was Lady Margaret trying to change things between them? “He knew before we married that I could not give in to him that way. That he would have to take his marital rights without my cooperation.”
“And kenning him enough to trust him with yer life and that of yer son, do ye think he would take from ye? I raised him better than that, dear. Can ye no’ trust him with yer body now that ye have turned yerself over into his care?”
