“I am well, mother,” Agnes said.
“I am pleased to hear that,” her father said chiming in. “There’d be hell to pay if it were otherwise.” He then raised his goblet to William who took the words in stride.
The meal continued on with some small talk about the night before and the one to come. Agnes understood that their presence was to be expected, but she was fast forming theopinion that she did not want to share her new husband, rather keep him all to herself. For her parents’ sake, however, she would go along with their wishes and partake in the festivities as long as they wanted. The norm was three days, so that was hopefully what they had in mind. This evening would be the biggest of the feasts as it was custom the bride and groom did not stay late on their wedding night. But the night after was something different, and William had mentioned a surprise for her as if the toy creatures were not enough.
God had been kind to her. Despite the circumstances that had brought them together, it was in her mind a perfect match. In all ways.
Once the meal was over, her father announced he would take William away for the remainder of the day. “Kiss your wife,” he said and William didn’t hesitate.
One swift kiss later and he was gone.
She turned to her mother. “Well, what are we doing today?”
“We,” she said reaching for Agnes’s hands, “are going to do what proper ladies do, which is be doted on and gossip. I want to hear all about the ladies at court and how you plan to conduct yourself now you are a countess.”
While the title was not unfamiliar to her, she had not really given much thought to what that actually meant. She’d always been treated with the proper respect at home, but theirs was a far less formal existence than what she’d seen at court. Save for Fin, all servants were firmly in their place with the divide clearly visible.
And that was one more thing she wondered about with William’s home. There was no indication he was a firm laird, but folks were known to put on airs in company and behave far different at home.
She and her mother passed the afternoon with their needlepoint near the hearth in the hall chatting about thingsof little importance. Agnes time and again looked toward the door when she heard a noise, hoping the men had returned. She would have liked to go with them, but after her night with William, she would not want to be on horseback all day. The thought made her smile and squirm a little.
“Are you unwell?” her mother asked.
“I am well, mother. Why do you ask?”
“Because you have hardly said a word while I have prattled on all day and you keep looking at the door. Now you are smiling to yourself. Am I even here?”
Her mother was not really mad, rather teasing her and skirting around the questions she obviously really wanted to ask.
Agnes placed her needlework in her lap and her hands on top. “Is there anything you are particularly curious about?”
Her mother shook her head. “Nay, lass. I merely want to be sure you are well. That you—that he was gentle.”
The color of her cheeks must have turned bright crimson for the heat that now burned them. She could not talk to her mother about the rambunctious lovemaking she and her new husband shared the night before. But she was curious about a thing or two.
“Is it normal to—”
Her sentence trailed off as she tried to find the words.
“To what?”
“To like it?”
“Like what? The act?”
She wanted to bury her head beneath the rocks on the shoreline.
“Aye,” she said in a quiet voice. “And to want to do it a lot?”
Through her own pink cheeks, her mother said, “Nay, my wee lassie who is wee no more. That is a rare and beautiful thing that our lord only blesses the most fortunate of couples. Your father and I—”
Agnes put her hands up. Nay. She would not hear anything about her parents in that way. She could not bear to have that discussion in addition to the difficulty she had talking about herself.
“Mother, I do not wish to be a disrespectful daughter, but I do not want to hear about my parents’ activity. ’Tis hard enough talking about my own.”
“Very well, I will not tell you anything other than your father and I are fortunate too.”
“Mother!” Agnes said before placing her hands over her ears. She couldn’t be sure, but she was fairly certain no child wanted to think of their parents that way.
