Page 23 of Highlander’s Lust

He noticed her frigid tone and was moved to pause.

Jean’s expression was forbidding; if it were possible for a bride to have a more disapproving look on her face, Charlie had yet to hear about it. He placed his glass back down carefully onto the board and signaled to the pageboy with his finger.

“Inform Cook she must keep serving the food until the tables groan but bring no more whisky into the hall. The minstrels can keep playing, and I will no’ mind if the guests wish to get up an’ dance. Tell me manservant to bring down a lantern to show us to bed.”

Jean heard his order, and her heart jumped into her mouth. It was time.

Laird Brisbane congratulated himself for his astuteness. He had nearly drunk away what promised to be the best night he would ever have. The lantern was to light their way along the dark castle passages, but when they reached the bedchamber, the drapes were pushed back, allowing the gentle summer evening sunlight to pour into the room. There would be no fumbling in the dark for Laird and Lady Brisbane this night! His beautiful bride would be bathed in the full glory of sunbeams. He imagined her body glowing in the light and shook his head to clear it of the whisky fumes. He wanted to remember this evening for the rest of his life!

Eby was waiting in the laird’s bedchamber dressing room to help her mistress remove her robe. Next door, Charlie paced impatiently from one side of the room to the other, waiting for Jean to ready herself for the beddan. It seemed to take forever, but he knew better than to pass the time with more drinking. Instead, he poured himself out a goblet of Cook’s best summer cordial. She made it with elderflowers, honey, and citrus. He found it immensely refreshing after his excessive potations down in the banquet hall.

After a goodly amount of time, Jean emerged from the dressing room. Laird Brisbane stared at his bride as though he were a man possessed. The sunshine made her nightgown transparent, casting the body underneath it into shadow. The outline he could see through the fabric was as delightful as he had imagined it to be. Her breasts were ripe and lifted, her waist willowy and slim, the jutting angle of her hip bones gave her body a sweet youthfulness and innocence. She was a maiden through and through.

Eby had dutifully braided her mistress’s hair into two long twisted locks falling down her back. Instinctively, Charlie stepped forward, lifted one braid up, and untied the ribbon knotted at the end. He ran his fingers to free the hair of its restraint and then lifted the thick red tress to his face. He rubbed the ringlets against his mouth, inhaling its scent.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw ye,” he murmured, freeing her long auburn tresses and sweeping the hair falling over her face away with his hands. She remained motionless, staring at a spot somewhere between his neck and his chest. Was the lass too shy to look at him? He held her chin gently between his thumb and finger, lifting it up until she made eye contact.

“Will ye no’ tell me that ye have been waitin’ for this night as impatiently as I have, Jeannie?”

She lowered her eyes once more, staying silent. He believed this was to be expected, a pure maiden’s fear at what she had to do before her husband could truthfully call her his wife.

He led her to the bed and held Jean’s hand as she mounted the dais. She crept under the coverlets and pulled the sheet up to her chin. It was only now that Charlie realized he had a lot to be worried about too. It was his first time with an untouched woman, and if he was to be honest with himself, he had as little experience with such a rare prize as a maidenhead as Jean had with husbands. It was not the time to be impatient and hasty. Still, Laird Brisbane could not help himself from rushing to rid himself of his clothes and lay beside Jean in bed.

He heard her gasp.

“What is it?” he wanted to know. He had not even come beside her yet.

“Nay—naught, me laird, ‘tis…‘tis only that ye have shed yer clothes, and yer body is rigid.”

He had to laugh. If only he had found one woman half as sweetly fascinating as he found Jean, he might have gotten married sooner. But still, he hastened to hold his plaid around his hips until he reached the bed and joined his wife under the sheets.

“Forgive me, love,” he murmured, leaning over to plant a kiss on her shoulder. “I’m a brute for no’ considering any qualms ye may have about seein’ me as the angels made me. I thought ye would be used to it after an afternoon spent chasing each other round the burn.”

She replied in a small voice, “If ye can remember, I was running away from ye.”

He laughed. “And if I recall, lass, ye were running away with me plaid with such a naughty smile on yer face, it behooved me to chase after ye. Come now, Jean, show yer husband a kindness and move closer. I promise I will nae bite.”

Jean remained on her side of the bed, like a lovely statue carved out of rubies and marble.

“Laird…” she began.

He reached out for her, but she shifted even further away from his hand. “Call me Charlie, sweet wife. Everyone does. Let’s have none o’ this formal ‘laird’ nonsense between us.”

It seemed as though she took all of her courage into her hands. Jean sat up straight and turned to face him.

“Charlie...Husband, I cannae behave toward ye in the manner of a wife this day, nor any day. Ye mention what happened yesterday by the burn in such an offhand manner, I cannae take the excuses ye made seriously. I need time—and proof—to see that ye have truly changed. Ye seem disposed to submit to yer lusty inclinations with no regard to those around ye who might no’ care for the act.”

He could not take what she was saying as anything other than a joke. It was his beddan, for goodness’ sake, and he would sleep in hell before allowing this wee slip of a girl to steer the course of their marriage!

“Did Gav set ye up to say this?” He grinned. “Because if ye agreed to go along with it, then more shame to ye, lass.”

She shook her head sadly. “This comes from me heart, Charlie. I have heard disturbing rumors about ye, and I want ye to show me I need no’ fear ye will fall back into yer auld ways after ye’ve taken me maidenhead.”

All the whisky he had imbibed did not harden Charlie’s heart against what Jean was saying to him. He was shocked sober in a wink of an eye.

“Jeannie, please. I swear, I will change. Ye have naught to fear. I love ye...I’ve loved ye since I first laid eyes on ye.”

His beautiful bride turned her back on him.

“Charlie Brisbane, what ye felt was lust.”