Aislinn drew a shaky breath, remembering the last time that had happened, when Cameron’s closeness had made her tremble.
In a hopeless effort to distract herself, she focused upon the good-sized village where Leith and Jeanne had sent them, which lay four leagues from their farm… the inn ahead owned by her uncle, Broden MacHugh.
Cameron had never said he’d left the fortress in such haste that he had no coin with him, but when he had asked if they might return to the farm after their wedding and sleep in the loft of the barn, Jeanne had been aghast.
“You’ll do no such thing, Laird! My uncle owns a comfortable inn, not an unruly drinking place at all. Tell him I said tae offer you their best room and we’ll settle with him later—our gift tae you! And now you’ll eat something while Leith brushes down and feeds that fine horse of yours. I can imagine you’re in a great hurry tae wed, but love willna calm an empty belly!”
With that, Jeanne had laid out a fine meal for him, eggs fried in butter and sizzling slices of salt-cured pork and fresh baked oatcakes—and Cameron hadn’t refused her.
Aislinn had eaten more, too, at Jeanne’s insistence, the woman’s whispered advice of, “You’ll need your strength, lass, with such a strapping Highlander as that one,” making her blush now all over again as Cameron drew the stallion to a halt outside the Rose and Thistle Inn.
“Wait for me, Aislinn.”
She nodded, wondering how long it might take him to explain to Jeanne’s uncle about the MacLeans’ generous gift… only for Cameron to reappear mere moments later with a broad smile upon his face.
A lusty one at that, which made Aislinn’s heart skip a beat, her new husband truly more fine-looking than any man had a right to be.
“MacHugh is as welcoming and big-hearted as his niece, good traits for an innkeeper. He’ll bed down my horse in the stable, bring us hot water for a bath, aye, and even bring us supper later, if we’ve a mind for food.”
Aislinn felt a rush in her stomach that had nothing to do with any thought of hunger as Cameron lifted her to the ground, his strong hands lingering at her waist.
“Are you happy, wife?”
She bobbed her head, so breathless now that her voice seemed to have fled, while Cameron untied the bag from the saddle, then caught her by the hand and led her into the inn.
Chapter 20
Cameron had never felt his heart beat harder as he closed the door behind him and Aislinn—no, not even in the thick of battle!
His gaze swept the modest room with a bed thankfully large enough for two, a wooden tub resting in one corner and the fireplace stacked with logs ready to be lit if the night grew cool, and the shutters already thrown open to the mild breeze by the quick-footed proprietor.
Everything looked clean and well swept, too, which pleased Cameron for he wanted nothing lacking this night—nothing! He had slept on the hard ground or on a simple cot for so much of his life that the room seemed comfortable enough to him, but was Aislinn pleased, too?
He glanced at her, his beautiful bride standing stock-still at his side and staring at the bed.
Her cheeks flushed pink. Her eyes wide. An expression he couldn’t read on her face, though he could sense her nervousness as surely as he breathed.
“Aislinn, if you dinna want tae stay here, we can go back tae the MacLeans’ and sleep in the barn. I dinna know what the cow and her calf might think—or the goats—”
Her soft laughter had made him fall abruptly silent, the sound like the sweetest balm to his own nervousness.
Aye, Cameron wanted her so badly that he felt afire from just looking at her, but he was as much an untried virgin as she!
Would he know how to bring her pleasure? Satisfy her? He inwardly cursed the affliction that had kept him from gaining any sexual prowess at all—but he hoped that would please her, too, that he had never lain with any other woman.
Inhaling deeply, Cameron drew her away from the door, wondering if she had gone so far as to think of fleeing. He hoped not—
“It’s a fine room, Cameron… so kind of Jeanne and Leith, aye?”
He nodded, relief filling him that she hadn’t requested that they return to the farm and a scratchy bed of straw, which made him chuckle now, too.
He had feared the day would never come that he’d feel so at ease with a woman that he could speak with her normally and laugh with her—aye, in spite of his anxiety about what lay ahead. To his surprise, Aislinn reached out and took his hand, her fingers trembling as she looked up at him.
“Forgive me. I… I don’t know what to do… how we’re to begin…”
His throat tightened at the unshed tears glistening in her eyes, and he took her into his arms, groaning against her hair.
“Forgiveme, Aislinn. I dinna want tae displease you. I’ve never bedded a woman… Conall would laugh if he saw me at this moment, aye, and mayhap pity me, too, for thinking that I could disappoint you—”
