Had she nae gotten good sleep either?
Tossing and turning seemed to be the only thing on the menu for the two of them.
Things had not felt this out of his control in a long time, perhaps as far back as when he had lost his father and brother.
Frustration ruled his movements as he dressed.
He remembered that for a few months there, he had barely been able to sleep. It was the same now, after this marriage. He had agreed to it, he had expected it, but he had not been prepared for Lilliana.
Perhaps a few hours on the training grounds will do me well—get me head right.
He walked out into the early morning. The sun was still below the horizon, but the sky danced with magical oranges and reds.
Lilliana was so very different from what he had imagined. When Ashcombe said he had trouble marrying her off, Kayden had assumed it had something to do with her countenance or age.
For sure, it was her stubbornness that was the problem.
Even as he huffed, his breath misting in the cold morning air, he could not help but admit to himself that he did not find her as abhorrent as he might have once thought.
Jacob looked up from where he was sharpening a sword, eyebrow raised. “Good morning to ye, Cousin. What’s to do?”
“Why do ye ask?” Kayden asked, snagging a piece of leather to bind his hands.
“Well, ye look as if ye have seen a haint, what with yer hair standing on end and those heavy bags beneath yer eyes. Daenae tell me ye’re nae sleeping well again.”
Kayden grunted. His cousin knew him too well.
“I thought we might spar this morning,” he said, instead of answering the question.
“Ha,” Jacob scoffed. “I kent ye were in a black mood. I daenae ken whyIhave to pay for it.”
Kayden gave him a smile. “Come on, Jacob. Ye daenae mean to say ye are afeared of a bit of swordplay.”
“Afeared? Nay. I just daenae fancy having me head cut off because ye are distraught over yersassenachwife.”
“I am nae distraught! Daenae be ridiculous.”
Jacob laughed, gesturing with one hand as he lifted his sword with the other. “Distracted, then.”
Kayden remained silent, which very well might have been a confirmation of his cousin’s suggestion.
“Come on then,” Jacob said teasingly. “What are ye waiting for?”
Kayden lunged at him, and their swords clashed.
He did not want to think about his wife, but he could not help but imagine her on the other side of that connecting door. She had been stirring when he left, and he had immediately pictured her in a linen nightgown—innocent and untouched—the neckline held together by a delicate satin ribbon. All he hadto do to loosen it was… pull. Her breasts would spill out, and he would cup them in his hands?—
Jacob’s sword clanged sharply against his own.
Christ! Focus, man!
Kayden pushed those thoughts away to clear his head, which was the point of this sparring session.
After a while, longer than either man had planned, sweat soaked their tunics, each refusing to give an inch to the other. Kayden found that the knot in his stomach loosened somewhat, though it did not disappear.
“Do ye want to talk about it?” Jacob asked between panting breaths as they slowed down.
“Nay.”
