Page 20 of A Bride for the Kilted Beast

“There’s nae need to be so worried about it, gentlemen. ’T’was a temporary delay only. Me bride is recovered today, and ye can be sure I intend to take me husbandly dues tonight. So ye can rest easy, I’ll have the confirmation ye seek on the morrow,” Diarmaid assured them. He had made it clear to Lillie that she would have to meet her wifely obligations that night, come hell or highwater, so he was not unduly troubled.

“We fervently hope that will be the case, melaird,” Latham told him. “The situation cannae be allowed to continue after that without the council’s intervention, as I’m sure ye understand.”

Diarmaid bristled. “What are ye saying, Andrew? Are ye volunteerin’ tae come and dae the job yersel’, eh?” he shot back, glaring around the table. Ciarán winked at him.

“Of course nae, melaird. But ye must understand our concern. A union’s nae a proper union until it’s been consummated,” the chief advisor said, his wrinkled cheeks flushing. “’Tis bad enough having the threat of an attack from Lennox hanging over our heads as a result of ye—I hesitate tae use the word—buyin’ yer wife at an auction. If Lennox comes and he finds out ye’ve nae consummated the weddin’, yer vows alone will nae stop him from takin’ her.”

“And killing’ us all,” another man put in grimly.

“D’ye really believe that I, yer laird, dinnae ken how important this consummation is? Ye’re wasting yer words. I’ve told ye the situation, so be content with it,” Diarmaid told them all in a voice that brooked no further discussion. “Now, I have business tae attend tae elsewhere, so I declare this meeting over.”

Jerking his head towards the door for his brother’s benefit, he left the chamber, which fairly rumbled with discontent. Ciarán was hot on his heels. Diarmaid set a fast pace down the hallway.

“I’m sorry to hear things didnae work out between ye and Lillie last night, Braither,” Ciarán murmured as they sped along.

“I told ye, she was ill, man,” Diarmaid grumbled, shooting his brother an annoyed glance. “What d’ye they expect me tae have done? Just forced meself on me wife when she’s sick?”

“Are ye sure she was nae just tryin’ tae fool ye again, like she did when she tried tae run?”

“Nay, she was nae trying tae fool me,” Diarmaid said, a vison of Lillie brandishing the poker at him popping into his head.

“So, where did ye end up sleepin’?” Ciarán asked as they entered the great hall.

“’Tis nae any of yer business. And dinnae ask me any more questions about the matter,” Diarmaid snapped, stopping by the keep doors. “I’ll see ye shortly, at breakfast. I’m off tae the guardhouse, tae organize an armed escort for Lillie,” he told his brother, who nodded. “I want her protected at all costs, in case Lennox comes.”

They parted, and as Diarmaid headed for the guardhouse, he wondered for the umpteenth time how long it would take to mobilize the Lennox army and have it ride to Castle Kincaid. He did not seriously expect an attack for at least a few days, but he shared the council’s concerns. An attack could come any time after that.

The more he thought about it, the more he hardened his intention to have his way with Lillie that night, whether she fought him or not.

Lillie was awoken from a deep sleep by the arrival of Penny. The girl bustled into the chamber carrying a tray, which she set on the nightstand. A delicious wafting of the scent of freshly baked bread eased Lillie into wakefulness.

“Good day tae ye, melady,” Penny said with a curtsey. “I trust ye had a good night. Lorna and Shelia send their congratulations,” she added with an impish grin.

Lillie pushed herself and looked at the little maid, feeling her cheeks flare with embarrassment.

“Thank ye, Penny,” she murmured, judging it wise not to respond to the girl’s fishing about how the wedding night had gone.

“We thought ye’d like tae have yer breakfast in bed today, seein’ as it’s yer first day as the Lady of Kincaid Castle. I brought ye some nice hot tea and some victuals. Would ye like me tae pour ye a cup? D’ye take it with honey? And milk, or d’ye prefer cream?” the maid enquired, lifting the teapot with an expectant look at Lillie.

“Milk, nae honey, thank ye, Penny,” Lillie replied, only then remembering she had a husband, and he was not anywhere to be seen. She was relieved by his absence.

“D’ye ken where the laird is?” she asked, hoping he would not be returning anytime soon.

“At the council meeting, I expect, melady. They meet every morning.” She handed Lillie a dainty cup filled with steaming tea.

“Thank ye.” Lillie took it gratefully.

“Will ye have something tae eat as well? I brought porridge, and some toasted bread, and some wild strawberry preserve.”

Lillie had an idea. “I’m afeared I cannae eat just now, Penny, fer I dinnae feel well at all. I dinnae think I could keep anything down,” she lied.

“Ach, melady! Why did ye nae tell me ye’re nae feeling will? Well, ’tis nae surprising,’ with all the, er, excitement of getting’ wed.”

“Aye. D’ye think ye could arrange fer me tae visit the healer?”

“Of course, melady. I’ll get him tae come and see ye right away,” the maid said, turning for the door.

“Ach, that willnae be necessary, Penny,” Lillie quickly assured her. Penny stopped and turned back to her, eyes wide.