Taming the Highland Bride (25 page)

The knife slipped, slicing into her thumb, and Merry gasped and popped it into her mouth as she stared wide-eyed at her husband.

“Let me see that,” Alex said, sounding annoyed as he shifted around the food to her side. He pulled her thumb from her mouth and cursed at the wound she’d given herself and then applied pressure with his own thumb to stop the bleeding as he berated her. “You must be more careful, wife. Honestly, you are forever slicing yourself up and I will not lose you to some stupid infection or—”

Alex paused suddenly, his eyes meeting hers, and Merry stared back, surprised at the outburst over such a small thing. Suddenly, he closed his eyes and shook his head. “You do think that, don’t you?”

Merry blinked in confusion, but after a moment realized that he had returned to the original topic and was asking if she did believe that his attraction to her had been only because of the tonic he’d been given. She was tempted to lie and deny it, but they were husband and wife, and had a whole life ahead to deal with each other. Lies did not seem a clever way to manage the situation. Swallowing the sudden knot of anxiety and shame in her throat, she murmured, “Well, ye’ve no’ bedded me since the night we realized ye were bein’ dosed and took precautions against it, and it has occurred to me that mayhap now that ye’re no’ being dosed ye’ve lost interest or—”

Her words died on a gasp of surprise as she found
herself suddenly pushed back on the furs. The gasp then died as well, as he followed her and covered her mouth with his own, swallowing the sound. Merry almost caught at his arms in surprise, but remembered the knife she held at the last moment and dropped it before reaching to grasp him. She had barely done so and begun to kiss him back when he broke the kiss as abruptly as it had started and suddenly leaned up so she could see his face.

“Look into my eyes, wife,” Alex ordered grimly, and she did so with some confusion until he pointed out. “There is no dilation now. I am not drugged, but I want you, Merry.” He ground the bulge between his legs against her to be sure she understood that he did indeed want her, and then added, “I have not bedded you for days because there has not been the opportunity. That first night in the tent my head was still pounding badly and I was exhausted from just riding.”

“I knew we should ha’e waited another day ere travelin’,” she muttered irritably at this news. “Evelinde and I both told ye ’twas too soon to be up.”

“Aye,” he admitted, and laughed at her irritation. “Mayhap it was, but I missed you in my bed and was happier leaving and at least being able to hold you, even if I was too exhausted to do aught else.”

Merry went still. “Really?”

“Aye, really.”

She took in his expression briefly and then said, “But then on the second night, why did we not—”

“Merry, the tent burned to the ground,” he reminded her dryly. “We left the ruins there in the
clearing and were forced to sleep around the fire with the men. Would you have me tumble my wife right there for all to see?”

“We could have slipped away to a private spot as we did on the way to Scotland,” she pointed out.

“And risk having my head bashed in again?” he asked dryly. “Or worse yet, you getting in the way and getting hurt?” Alex shook his head and then admitted, “I was tempted, but in the end I was too afraid of losing you to my momentary greed.”

“Well, we could ha’e slept in the wagon then,” Merry suggested. “Una wouldna ha’e minded.”

“Again, we would have been away from the men and more vulnerable to attack. I was not willing to risk you that way. ’Twas safer to stick close to and even sleep by the fire, surrounded by the men, and safety was my main concern. So I decided it was simply better to get us all home as quickly as possible.” He smiled wryly and added, “I suppose you did notice that I set a punishing pace on the return journey? That was not wholly out of a concern for my, or even your, well-being. I was eager to get back here where we could be alone.”

“Really?” she asked, her heart filling with hope.

“Oh, aye, Merry, really,” he assured her grimly and then added, “Just think on it logically. While I imagine that dosing me did make me randier than usual, that was all it could do. It could not make me randy for you. I could have taken that randiness it caused elsewhere, had I wished. True?”

She scowled at the very suggestion, but nodded.

“But I did not. And I did not do so because my interest lay only with you,” he told her solemnly and
then assured her, “Merry, I find you beautiful and graceful and strong and intelligent. I am proud and happy to have you to wife, and were my father still alive I would be thanking him ten times a day for arranging this marriage. I want you, and none other than you. In fact…” He paused to take a breath and then admitted, “I love you, wife.”

“Ye love me?” she asked, almost afraid she’d misheard him.

Alex’s mouth tipped crookedly at her expression, and he said solemnly, “Aye, Merry. I love you. How could I help it? You are strong and determined and take on whatever needs doing when others will not. Yet, despite the hard outer shell you present to the world, your heart is still soft and you care for those around you. Aye, I love you, Merry d’Aumesbery.”

Merry stared at Alex, a terrible sharp ache in her chest that she knew was love. She wanted to hold him so close that they would forever be one and never again part, but all she could do was swallow and blink away the tears that had risen to film her eyes, and then say equally solemnly, “And I love and want ye, too, husband. I find ye handsome and sweet and ever so considerate. I—”

He brought her list of his good attributes to an end with a kiss that took her breath away. Merry did not fight him. She could tell him how wonderful he was later. For now she wished to enjoy this newfound love in the most satisfying way she knew of. She wished to take him inside her body and feel him fill her up until they were one in body as well as heart.

Merry woke the next morning to sunshine and birdsong pouring through the unshuttered window…and Una standing over her, dry amusement on her face.

“I’m guessin’ all is right with yer world,” Una commented wryly as Merry blinked her eyes open and smiled at her.

“Aye,” she admitted with a grin and sat up to glance around. “Where is me husband?”

“Up and off tendin’ to castle business hours ago,” Una informed her, moving away to open her chest and begin rooting through it for what Merry should wear that day. “I’d ha’e rousted ye from yer bed at the time, but he ordered me to let ye sleep as long as ye liked,” she announced as she settled on a dark green gown and got to her feet once more. As she walked back toward her, Una added dryly, “He, too, was smiling like a fool. ’Tis obvious the two o’ ye got up to houghmagandy while locked in here all day yesterday.”

“Jealous?” Merry teased with a grin.

“Aye,” she admitted sourly. “I need me a man with a claymore. Even that boy Godfrey is lookin’ attractive to me just now.”

Merry laughed at the suggestion as she tossed the linens aside and hopped from bed. “I think ye were right about yer feelin’s ere we left Stewart, Una,” she announced as she moved to the basin of water to wash up. “I believe I will be much happier here than I ever was at Stewart.”

“Aye,” Una agreed, and then added seriously, “And ’tis happy I am fer ye. Ye’ve a fine husband there and I foresee many happy years and braw
children…do the two o’ ye settle this nasty business o’ druggin’ and attackin’ ere one o’ ye is seriously hurt.”

Merry’s smile immediately began to fade at this reminder that there was a snake in paradise.

“I had forgotten about that,” she admitted on a mutter, and wondered how she possibly could.

“Well, I wouldna feel too bad about it. It looked to me like yer husband had quite fergot it, too, this morn. ’Tis that rosy glow of love. It fogs yer mind and blankets anything unpleasant.”

“Aye,” Merry murmured, and thought that she must not forget again. In fact, she was suddenly determined to resolve the situation as quickly as possible and asked, “Where is Edda?”

“At the table in the great hall,” Una responded heavily. “And I can tell ye the servants are acting even queerer around her than usual, especially old Bet. I suspect Edda was up to no good while we were gone.”

Merry didn’t comment, but pondered this news as she washed and dressed. The more she heard, the more her own suspicions turned reluctantly to the woman, and it did seem for the best did they send her away, at least until they sorted the matter out.

Una left her to her silence as she helped her dress, and then remained behind to make the bed and clean up the room. Merry was alone when she descended the stairs to the great hall. Edda was no longer at the table, but had moved to sit by the fire. She stood, however, when she saw Merry, and smiled widely as she crossed the room to meet her at the table.

“Welcome back!”

Merry smiled in return and felt a pinch of guilt for her suspicions when the woman bent to hug her where she sat. It was enough to make her hug her back a bit more enthusiastically than she was feeling. “Thank ye. I hope all was well here while we were away?”

“Oh, aye,” Edda assured her as she settled on the bench to keep her company. “My, you were hardly gone long enough for anything to be unwell.”

“We had some difficulties on the journey and Alex thought it best to return.”

“So I heard.” Edda shook her head. “Accidents, the tent in flames, and someone drugging Alex? ’Tis hard to believe.”

“Aye,” Merry murmured, offering a smile to Lia as the maid appeared with food and drink for her.

“I hope you found Evelinde well?” Edda asked as the maid left.

Recalling Evelinde’s comment that she should watch Edda when she told her of her happiness, Merry turned to smile at her widely and watched her expression as she gushed, “Oh, aye. She is wonderfully happy. ’Tis obvious she and Cullen are very much in love. The man dotes on her and she on him. ’Twas enough to make me jealous.”

“What a relief,” Edda said, and the words seemed genuine, as did her concern as she admitted, “I fear I have been fretting over the girl. We were not close, but still, she was my husband’s daughter and I did worry how she would get along with the Devil of Donnachaidh. By all accounts he is a cold, heartless bastard.” She paused and shook her head. “But
I suppose such names mean little in Scotland, and these tales just spread and grow until they carry little truth. After all, they call you the Stewart Shrew and that title hardly fits, does it?” She laughed.

Merry smiled and then turned to her food, now thoroughly confused. The woman truly seemed happy and relieved that Evelinde was well. Either she was a much better actor than Evelinde had supposed, or the woman really had turned a new leaf. It made Merry feel guilty for the suspicions she’d allowed the others to bring about in her. She herself had been falsely accused and knew how hurtful it could be. Now she was anxious about her promise to see Edda sent away to visit her sister. She still intended to carry that plan through, but was troubled at the prospect and found herself unable to join in properly as Edda chattered away keeping her company. Fortunately, she had the excuse of eating and drinking to cover her silence, but she was grateful when she was done and could excuse herself to go check on how things had gone while she was away.

Merry’s guilt and discomfort made her avoid Edda for the rest of the day, and it was not until supper that she spoke to the woman again. Her mother-in-law was as cheerful and happy to see her then as she’d been that morning, but—terribly aware of Alex beside her and knowing he suspected the woman as much as his sister did—Merry found herself extremely uncomfortable through that meal as well.

When the sup had ended and Edda suggested they relax by the fire to attend to mending, Merry
forced a smile and promised to join her in a moment and then waited until she had moved away from the table before turning to Alex.

“You are finding dealing with Edda difficult,” Alex said sympathetically the moment his stepmother was out of earshot.

Merry was surprised at his intuition, but nodded silently and managed a true if weak smile when he leaned forward to press a quick kiss to her lips. Once he’d straightened again, he peered at her solemnly and then suggested, “Mayhap it would be for the best did we send her away to her sister’s as you suggested.”

“Evelinde suggested it,” Merry said quickly, feeling disloyal enough without taking the full burden of responsibility for sending the woman away. Still, she could not wholly shirk the responsibility. “But, aye, mayhap ’tis fer the best.”

“Then I shall ask her sister’s name and suggest a visit,” he said simply.

“Evelinde told me the name,” Merry murmured, but then paused. The sound of the great hall door opening had distracted him, and Alex was glancing toward it, a scowl claiming his lips as he saw who entered. Merry followed his gaze, her eyebrows rising slightly as she saw that it was Godfrey. The lad hadn’t attended the sup and she’d thought he must be on a chore for Alex. Judging by her husband’s irritated expression as he stood to meet the lad, if he had been on a chore for him, Godfrey hadn’t been quick enough about the task.

“What the hell took you so long?” Alex asked irritably as the boy came to a stumbling halt before
him. “I sent you to the village shortly after noon. You should have been back hours ago.”

“I am sorry, my lord,” Godfrey said quickly, and then, shamefaced, admitted, “I met a courier on the way, got turned around in the woods, and lost my way back. I have been wandering for hours. I—Here. He gave me this letter to bring to you.”

Alex scowled, but took the letter and barked less angrily, “You missed the sup. Go to the kitchens and get yourself something to eat.”

“Aye, my lord. Thank you, my lord.” The boy hurried off, disappearing into the kitchens as quickly as his legs would carry him, probably more in a rush to escape his lord’s angry glare than an eagerness to find food.

Merry’s gaze slid back to her husband as he untied the ribbon around the scroll and then unrolled it. “What is it?”

“’Tis just a letter from his father, checking on how he is faring,” Alex said. “He frets about the boy unnecessarily. I think ’tis because he is so small for his age and looks so much younger than he is.” He paused to glance at her and then added with a grin, “I hope our own sons inherit their size from me.”