And to discover just what he might have done to the Englishwoman who had lived here before her.
15
Arran splayed his fingertips against his forehead, letting out a long breath as he stared out of the window and to his drenched lands beyond.
It had rained all night, long after he and Amelia had gotten back to the Keep together. And he had slept with her. Sharing a bed with her all night long had been the most exquisite form of torture, the temptation to simply take her as any husband would almost more than he could bear. But, she was new to this world of lust and want. He would not rush her through it. What they had shared last night had been a promise of more to come, a promise he could hardly wait to get more.
But being near her like that, it made him… vulnerable. He wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable, not with her, not with anyone. For so long, he had built these sturdy walls around himself, making sure nobody knew anything about him. He didn’t want them to, and though he knew it had given rise to some rumors, he let them swirl around him. Better to let people think what they wanted than to open his mouth and remove all doubt.
And their physical connection, no matter how intense it seemed, would not cover for whatever closeness she trulydesired from him. When they came together like that, he knew that she drew closer and closer to seeing what lay beneath the surface, the surface that he had worked so hard to present to the world for so long.
He had slipped out of bed early that morning, before she’d woken. He had been ready to spin stories to her about what he was doing, sneaking away from her before she had so much as opened her eyes, but the need for them had never come to pass. He had arrived in his chambers early, before the sun had so much as risen, and he knew some of the servants had seen him emerging from her bedchambers. He’d heard whispering about the two of them, about the possibility of an heir, but he knew there was no rush for that yet. He wanted to explore every part of her, inch by inch, before he took her and claimed her once and for all; when that time came, he wanted her to be sure of herself, of the pleasure her body could bring her, especially when she entrusted it to him.
Rising to his feet, he moved towards the door, planning to find Gregory to ride out on a hunt. The rain would have brought out the small foraging animals, making easy pickings for the kitchen.
When he opened the door, though, he was surprised to find Amelia standing on the other side; bright-eyed, her hair pulled back from her face, the light catching her delicate features. As soon as she met his gaze, her cheeks flushed slightly, as though she was recalling all that they had done the night before.
“Good morning,” he greeted her stiffly, his words coming out more formal than he had intended them to. She nodded to him, a small smile on her face, and he prayed she would not confront him about the way he had left her slumbering alone.
“Good morning, my Laird.”
“Arran. Call me Arran.”
She flicked her tongue over her lips before she responded.
“Arran.”
The sound of his name on her tongue did something to him, stirred the same desire he’d felt the night before, when she had lain in his arms, her chest rising and falling softly as he had listened to her slumbering breath. Though her body was womanly, there was something vulnerable about it that drew him in; the soft curve of her breasts, the dip of her hip, the way she twisted her legs around one another as she slept. Every inch of her unexplored territory, begging to be discovered.
“What do ye want?” he asked her bluntly, and she raised her eyebrows at him, chuckling slightly.
“Can a wife not seek out her husband of a morning?” she asked him, her voice sweet.
He scanned her face, trying to make sense of this sudden intrusion. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her presence, he did, but after what they had shared the other night, he felt as though he could not take it at face value.
“Aye, but what for?”
Her teeth rested on her bottom lip for a moment. She didn’t seem to have an answer prepared, as though she had not been ready for him to interrogate her in such a fashion. He lowered his gaze to the ground for a moment, reminding himself that he was the one who had brought her here. He was the one who had made her his wife, and now, it was up to him to prove to her that he wasn’t going to be some tyrant of a husband. How could he lay with her all night, and then turn against her like this, without so much as a word of explanation as to what he was doing?
“Have ye seen much of the Keep yet?” he offered, and she shook her head.
“Almost nothing, apart from my quarters.”
“Then let me show ye around,” he suggested. Her face brightened at once.
“Yes, I suppose if I’m going to be living here, it would be good to get a feel for the place,” she agreed at once and, to his surprise, she took his arm, resting her elbow against him lightly. Even after what had happened the night before, it still seemed foreign to him to have her so close, as though he might be exposed at any moment for the person he really was.
He cleared his throat, and moved to the door, leading her along the corridor that led to the main dining hall. She had been taking her meals in her room, for the most part, choosing to hide out in there rather than meet with the other people who lived in the Keep. He supposed he could not blame her; she was still trying to navigate her place as his wife, and being thrown into the veritable lion’s pit that was a dinner with his closest cohorts would have proved more than she could take.
“I can imagine how much fun you have here,” she remarked wistfully, as she glanced around the place. He grunted.
“Aye, I suppose they do.”
“They? Do you not enjoy yourself here, Arran?”
He was still getting used to hearing his name on her lips. He shrugged.
“It’s not the place for me to relax.”
