Page 17 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

“Me darlin’ bride, I must say, ye’re lookin’ a wee bit peaky,” Diarmaid cut her off in a panic, feigning concern. “I think we’d better excuse ourselves, so ye can have a rest after the long journey, eh?” With that, he seized her hand in an iron grip and rose to his feet, pulling her with him.

“Please, continue enjoyin’ yerselves,” he told the surprised company, making copious apologies as he almost dragged Lillie out through a side door concealed behind a tapestry.

In furious silence, he proceeded to pull her along by her arm through the castle’s hallways to the staircase in the great hall. He took the stairs two at a time, not caring that she was having to run to keep up with him. On the first landing, he once again took the hallway, halting them both by the door to his chambers at the far end. He opened the door and shoved her roughly inside ahead of him before slamming it shut.

Spinning her around by the arm to face him, he finally released her and confronted her angrily.

“Just what dae ye think ye’re playin’ at?” he demanded. Hardly had the words left his mouth before she surprised him completely by racing to the hearth and grabbing the poker. She wheeled about, eyes flashing, brandishing it threateningly at him.

“Dinnae dare tae touch me!” she cried, eyes wide with what he recognized as panic. He held his palms up in a calming gesture, not knowing whether to laugh or rage at her.

“Put that down. I’m nae gonna hurt ye,” he assured her, but he could see she did not believe him. She was clearly as mad as a march hare, but she was his wife now. He was stuck with her, so he knew he had to find some way to convince her he would not harm her. “I dinnae ken what ye’re so scared of.”

“Aye, ye dae. Ye ken exactly what I’m scared of,” she corrected him, waving the poker menacingly. “I ken what ye’re plannin’, but ye’ll nae get yer way if I have anything tae dae with it. I’ll brain ye first.”

“Ach, ye’re mad, woman! And ye’re wrong. I dinnae ken what ye’re so scared of. Can ye nae put that poker down and explain it tae me like reasonable human being?”

She shook her head, her expression wild. “Now ye’ve forced me tae marry ye, ye’re plannin’ tae take me virtue by force as well. But I’ll kill ye first, fer I’ve naething more important tae lose!”

Light dawned in his head. “Ach! So that’s what’s worryin’ ye so.” He chuckled low in his throat. She had hit the nail on the head all right.

“And why should it nae worry me? I ken very well what is in store fer me when ye take what ye’ve paid fer, what ye think belongs tae ye. But I’ll nae allow ye tae take me against me will. I’m nae up tae it, I tell ye!”

“All right, all right, calm yerself.” He backed away, relieved to understand the problem at least. “So, let me get this right. Ye’re fearful about the wedding night and what happens between a man and a woman. Is that right?”

“Nay, ye great buffoon,” she replied scornfully. “I’m nae a fool. I ken well enough what happens, but I didnae chose tae wed ye, nor did me family. I dinnae wish tae wed at all. Ye forced me intae it. And I dinnae intend tae let ye take me virtue by force as well.”

“’T’is naething tae be frightened of. ’Tis a perfectly natural thing. I’ll be gentle with ye. Ye’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

She scoffed. “How will I enjoy it?” Here she raised her voice and screamed, “When I dinnae want it!”

Perplexed, not knowing how to convince her, Diarmaid sighed and began to cross to the small table where a jug of ale stood, meaning to pour himself some. But he had hardly taken two steps before she flew at him like a wild animal, flailing at him with the poker, probably thinking he was going to attack her.

Half bemused, he easily blocked her blows and twisted her arm enough to make her drop the poker. That did not deter her though, and he found himself still under attack, fending off the blows she rained upon him with her small fists. It was almost comical, and he tried not to laugh outright, while at the same time admiring her grit.

He continued to hold her at bay, but as they wrestled, their feet became tangled in the hem of her wedding dress. She shrieked as she suddenly lost her balance and went down. Their entangled limbs meant it was inevitable that Diarmaid would follow.

He soon found himself toppling after her, landing on top of her small body and hearing the breath leave her body with a whooshing sound. He took advantage of that vulnerable moment to grab her hands and hold them fast either side of her head, so she could not move.

Diarmaid hung above her, his body pinning hers to the floor, while they gazed into each other’s eyes, both panting slightly. Their faces were so close, he could feel her warm, whisky-scented breath fanning his cheek. The intense blue of her fear-filled eyes was more dazzling than the sapphires he had chosen for her to wear, which still glittered about her ears and neck.

A pink flush spread across her flawless cheeks as he examined every tiny detail of her face up close, finding her even more beautiful than before. An enticing floral fragrance filled his nostrils, and he suddenly became conscious of her rapid heartbeat and the way her breasts were rapidly rising and falling against his chest.

He shifted slightly, to avoid pressing his already aroused manhood against her, nevertheless continuing to regard her hungrily. He knew he could easily take her there and then. But as she said, it would be by force, and for some reason, he found he did not want her to hate him. And so, with a heavy sigh of resignation, he made a supreme effort to control his urges.

“Come on, let me help ye up. And ye dinnae need tae be afraid. I promise I’ll nae lay a finger on ye tonight,” he told her, hardly believing what he was saying. He pushed himself up and rose to his feet, pulling her up gently.

“Dae ye swear it?” she asked, regarding him distrustfully, glancing at the poker where it lay on the floor.

“Aye, I swear it on me life, so ye can calm yersel’. I dinnae want ye tae see me as a villain,” he said, swiftly snatching up the poker and placing it on a high shelf, out of her reach for the time being.

“All right,” she agreed, brushing herself down, apparently willing to believe him now that he had shown her he could control himself and was not about to ravish her.

“But I cannae say the same fer tomorrow night,” he warned her. Her face fell, but he continued. “I ken how ye feel, but I cannae put off taking what’s mine after that, else the others will wonder what’s going on and demand an explanation. The marriage must be consummated. Surely, ye understand that?”

She sighed and hung her head. A pang of pity went through him to see her so despondent. Gently, he took her by her upper arms and kissed the top of her head.

“I dinnae want it this way, but ’tis nae me choice. Come, dinnae worry. It’ll nae be so bad, ye’ll see. I’ll be gentle. It’ll be good. Ye’ll like it, I swear tae ye,” he told her, genuinely wanting to reassure her.