Lachlan sighed like a martyr. What would thefemale servants think if there was no blood on the bedsheets in themorn? What gossip would they partake in and with whom? Nay. Hecouldna allow for that. Removing a dagger from his belt, he took itto his left hand and cut. Veronica gasped.
“What are you doing?” she shrieked, herexpression mortified.
“Giving you your time,” he muttered. Hepulled the covers back and, Veronica scrambling to her knees, letthe blood from his cut hand fall onto the bedsheets where she wouldlie for the remainder of the eve. “The servants must believe weconsummated,” he told her, careful to keep his voice low. When hewas certain there was enough blood let to stain the sheets, hesnatched his hand back and stemmed the bleeding with his right one.“Dinna worry, wife,” he said sarcastically, “I dinna injure thehand I’ll be needing.”
*****
Veronica decided against waking her brother,opting to wait to see him until the morning. She laid in the bednext to her husband—her husband!—and let the night’s events replayin her mind. Clearly, the man expected her to be a virgin. Shewasn’t certain she could pretend to be one, much less produceblood. That presented a definite problem. She found herselfwondering if he’d divorce her when she failed to bleed. The thoughtwas unexpectedly morose.
Should she be honest with the laird and justtell him she wasn’t a virgin then sit back and watch how the chipsfell? Veronica genuinely didn’t know. This was more than a novelsituation; she was the first female in history to ever be smack dabin the middle of a time traveling predicament like this. And ifthere had been a culture left on earth that valued virginity whenshe’d traveled back in time, she certainly hadn’t been aware of itsexistence. That simply wasn’t a consideration in 2075 A.D.
Everything was upside down now. Notunderstanding her environment was an overwhelming feeling. Shetruly felt like Alice after she’d tumbled down the rabbit hole.Maybe her situation would seem less surreal after a good night’srest? She hoped so.
It took a long while to fall to sleep,especially with the gigantic barbarian beside her, but Veronicaslumbered like the dead once she did. Her dreams that night werepleasant. Unfortunately, they also revolved around Lachlan: anotherevent she didn’t wish to analyze upon waking in the morning.
Chapter Fourteen
Apparently being knocked out for two dayshad given her all the rest she needed for Veronica awoke at thesame early hour as Lachlan, a rooster literally crowing in thedistance. Sitting up, she gave the bedroom a once-over. She quicklyascertained her first impression of it had been correct. It wasbig, but it was stark. No decorations of any kind adorned thewalls. For some reason that fact depressed her a bit. Maybe it wasbecause she’d missed seeing the emblems of a normal home during thefour years she’d been on the run for her life. Other than a hearthand a small wooden table with two chairs near to it, there were nosigns of a life pleasantly lived in this bedroom. Just then shenoticed a large chest. She wondered if that was where Lachlan kepthis clothing.
Veronica didn’t have to wonder for long. Thehuge and very naked laird made his way over to the chest and openedit. He pulled out a white wool shirt and a black and blue kilt. Sheknew she should look away, but couldn’t seem to. The man, somuscular and riddled with battle scars, was a sight to behold. Hisnakedness delineated how powerfully he was built. Everything abouthim was strong and muscled, including his perfect ass. She blew outa small breath, the sight more arousing than it should havebeen.
“Morn, wife,” Lachlan said without lookingat her. He began to dress.
She cleared her throat. “Good morning.”
“A wardrobe is being made to hold yourclothing,” he continued. “’Twill take mayhap a sennight, mayhapless. Until then, your borrowed dresses are in my chest and yourborrowed shoes beside it. I trust everything will fit.”
She remembered his words from the nightprior. “Please thank your sister for lending me the clothes andshoes,” Veronica said softly. “That was very nice of her.”
“You will meet her at the nooning meal.Mayhap ‘twould be better did you give her your thanks in mystead.”
“You are leaving?”
“Aye.”
“Where? Why?”
She could see one of his eyebrows raise inprofile. “You have a care?”
“Well… yeah. Do you want me not tocare?”
“Nay.” He sat on one of the chairs to put onhis boots. “I’m simply not accustomed to having anyone ask me of myintended whereaboots.”
That confession confused her. “Because youdon’t want them to know or because they aren’t interested?”
He shrugged. “I’m simply not used toexplaining myself. ’Tis the way of it, that.” He finished puttingon his kilt before turning to her. “I ride to the borderlandsbetwixt the Gunns and the Campbells. I shan’t be goneo’erlong.”
It was still morning and Lachlan had spokenas if he wouldn’t be returning for lunch. How long constituted“overlong” to him? She decided against asking, not wanting toappear too nosy to a man unaccustomed to giving information toanyone. Still, the last time he’d gone to the borderlands shehadn’t seen him for another week. “Can I go with you?” she askedinstead. “I’m a good fighter and can take care of myself.”
Finally, he gave her his dark, stoic gaze.“You can ride a horse?”
“I grew up on a farm. Yes.”
He seemed pleased by her response, but stillsaid no. “Not this morn, wife. You’re the new Lady Gunn. Theclanswomen will expect to be seeing you aboot the keep, not outriding a destrier. Leastways, you will wear a bliaut this day.”
Veronica quasi-frowned. She wasn’t really adress person, but supposed she had better get used to wearing oneif she hoped to fit in here. Still…
“Do you wish for me to dress you, wife?”
