“Too late to keep you awake for your wedding night.”
As her mother started to help her undress, Clover said, “No, not too late for that. I will not fall into a drunken stupor.”
“Are you sure?” Agnes put Clover’s gown away in the big oak wardrobe. “I wish we had not lost your fine wedding dress because we could not pay the dress shop bill.”
“This blue gown was pretty enough, Mama. Now, do not worry. I am not so tipsy that I will fall asleep any earlier than usual. I but sought to calm my sudden attack of nerves.”
“Well, be sure to splash a lot of cold water on yourface. That man is expecting a wedding night and you have promised him one. Now, here is something frilly and romantic for you to wear.” Agnes tugged a new nightdress out of the wardrobe.
Clover breathed a sigh of appreciation as she smoothed her hand over the white silk and lace nightgown her mother held out to her. “‘Tis lovely, Mama. So rich and delicate. Where did you get it?”
“I bought it for your wedding day before our fortunes soured. The groom may have changed but ‘tis still a wedding.” Agnes helped Clover slip into the thin nightgown. “Truth to tell, I think it may be important for you to wear something that will make you feel pretty and well …” Agnes blushed. “Perhaps even a bit naughty.”
The wine Clover had consumed had succeeded in easing her fears and she giggled. “I believe that Mr. Ballard MacGregor is one of those men whowouldlike his wife to be naughty in the bedchamber.”
Agnes laughed. “Yes, I suspect so.” She grew serious and gently grasped Clover by the shoulders. “There is no fault in liking the intimate side of marriage. ‘Tis an important thing to a man. The passion is, I mean. Even a husband who loves his wife might stray if their bed is cold or holds naught but duty and tolerance. Feel no shame, m’dear, if you like lying with the man, for there is where the foundation of a firm marriage will be built. Are you ready now?”
“Yes, Mama. Send the groom up to me.”
A little of Clover’s bravado faded as soon as her mother left the room. She was about to do something very intimate with a man she barely knew. It was a frightening thought, and no amount of wine couldfully banish that fear. She began to feel nervous again and hoped that Ballard would understand.
“I think your wee bride was a wee bit tipsy, Ballard,” Shelton murmured, grinning.
“Aye, a wee bit.” Ballard could not keep his amusement from his voice.
“A bit eager, are you, cousin?” Lambert teased, nodding at the way Ballard was seated on the very edge of his chair.
“Now, lads, I am powerful sorry to be depriving ye of the right to tease me without mercy, but let us have no rough talking in front of the children.” Ballard sent a pointed glance toward the twins who sat nearby, watching him, Lambert, and Shelton with wide eyes and attentive faces.
“Are you our brother now, sir?” Clayton asked Ballard in a quiet, shy voice.
“Aye,” Ballard replied. “I am now your kin by marriage, so ye may call me Ballard.”
“Ballard?” Damien asked. “Are you gonna share Clover’s bed like Mama shared Papa’s?”
Ballard was taken aback by the bluntness of the question. “Ah, weel, aye. That is how it should be when folks are wedded.”
“Oh. So that means we cannot be putting things in Clover’s bed anymore,” Clayton said.
“Ye put things in her bed? What things?”
“Damien put a frog in her bed once. And a lizard. I like putting snakes in. Not poisonous ones, just plain old snakes.”
“Ah, and then Clover screams and hollers, does she?”
“We-ell, she screeches our names, then curses as she chases us. Then Mama starts chasing Clover and telling her she ought not to be cursing,” Clayton revealed just as his mother entered the parlor.
“Clayton, I think it is time for you to go to bed, young man,” Agnes said in a stern voice as she faced her son.
“But, Mama, Shelton and Lambert said they would play draughts with us.”
“Aye, we did that ma’am,” Shelton agreed as he fought an urge to laugh.
“Oh.” Agnes sighed. “All right then, Clayton, you and Damien can play for a while, but there will be no more telling tales.” After they nodded with obvious reluctance, Agnes looked at Ballard. “Your room is ready,” she mumbled, and blushed slightly.
Ballard smiled gently and headed out of the room, trying not to reveal his eagerness too blatantly. He was just about to climb the stairs when he felt someone lightly grasp his arm. He looked down at an obviously nervous Agnes. It occurred to him that she might try to get him to wait before asserting his husbandly rights. He hurriedly tried to think of a gentle, polite way to tell her that there was no chance of that.
“Sir, I just wished to, well, to remind you that my daughter is very innocent,” Agnes said.
