The Border Lord's Bride (15 page)

Ellen finally found her voice. "Are you making love to me, my lord?" she asked.

"A little," he admitted. "I find, now that you are mine, lassie, that I am having a difficult time keeping my hands off of you. But I would not frighten you."

"You don‘t frighten me, Duncan," she responded. "You are a most gentle man."

Reaching out, he cupped her head in his hand and drew her to him. His lips brushed across hers, touching, tasting, before he took her mouth in a passionate kiss. Her lips were silken, firm, and sweet. She sighed, and her breath tasted like wine in his mouth. He felt a tightening in his groin, and was genuinely surprised by his reaction. He wasn‘t a lad with his first maid, but there was something so sensual and yet so innocent about Ellen that he could not help but be aroused by her.

"Oh, my," she whispered as he drew away. Her cheeks were pink.

"I will want to do more of that," he told her softly. "You are a most kissable lassie, Ellen MacArthur, lady of Duffdour."

"That was ever so much nicer than Balgair‘s kiss," she told him. "After he kissed me, I thought I would not like kissing, but now that you have kissed me I realize that it depends upon who is kissing you, doesn‘t it, Duncan? I will want to do more of that with you as well." Her gray-blue eyes twinkled at him.

He laughed aloud at this.

Sim came to the high board to tell them that the cart had arrived and Peigi was having her supper in the kitchens.

Ellen stood up. "I had best go and greet her," she said. "Sim, will you show me the way to the kitchens? Then have the men bring my belongings to the room I slept in before. I don‘t want to fill our bedchamber with my possessions until Peigi and I have sorted through it all," she explained to the laird.

He sat with his wine when she had left him and considered that just sleeping with her might prove to be more difficult than he had anticipated. She excited him, and her soft young body next to his was going to be very tempting. She had deliciously round little breasts, like the plumpest apples. His hands itched to fondle them. He contemplated the image of her with her long red-gold hair spread upon the pillows. She would be the most tender morsel, and he would eat her up. Suddenly Duncan Armstrong realized that his cock in his breeks was hard and aching. God‘s wounds! What was the matter with him? Was he actually lusting after his own wife? Aye! He was indeed.

He struggled to consider other, less inflammatory matters. It was time to drive the cattle to the high meadow. Perhaps he would overnight with his herders in the fields. Mayhap instead of sending a messenger to Cleit he would ride over himself. He hadn‘t seen his brothers in months now. Aye, it was the better way to inform them of his marriage. He wouldn‘t mind their teasing either, nor Adair‘s many questions. He could remain away at least three or four days. Possibly longer.

Ellen returned to the hall. "Peigi is very glad to be home," she said with a smile. "I want to settle her in her own little chamber myself. Do you mind?"

"Nay, I have some business in the stables, lassie. You know where the lord‘s chamber lies. Find your way there when you are tired, and surely you are after our ride." He hurried from the hall.

Now what was the matter? Ellen wondered. Was he being thoughtful and allowing her time for herself before he joined her? Or was he experiencing a certain amount of shyness himself? She hurried upstairs to find Peigi rooting through the trunks. "Tomorrow," Ellen said, "we will get your trunk into your chamber, my dearie."

"My chamber?" Peigi said surprised.

"Aye, your chamber!" Ellen told her, smiling. "There is a wee room just for you at the end of the hall. Sim has readied it." She led her servant down the corridor and opened the door, stepping inside. "‘Tis not very big, but it has its own hearth, a bed, and room for your trunk. And a window. Its shutter is open now, but you can close it when it suits you, Peigi. I thought you were deserving of your own quarters."

Peigi looked about her, and her eyes grew misty. "Thank you, my lady," she said.

"I will leave you then to your bed," Ellen replied.

"What? And who is to get you prepared for your wedding night?" Peigi demanded to know.

"My lord and I have thought it best to learn each other‘s ways before we grow more intimate,"

Ellen explained. "We will share the bed. No more."

"He‘s a sensitive man, he is," Peigi said. "Very well, then, my lady, if you do not need me I will retire. I must admit that my bed looks tempting."

Ellen walked back down the hall to the lord‘s chamber and entered it. It was a comfortable room.

Tapestries hung upon its stone walls. There was a fire burning in the hearth, which was flanked by carved stone manikins. A double window facing southeast was hung with linen draperies pulled back to reveal the open wooden shutters. Outside she could hear a night bird calling.

There was an oak table before the window with a small tray, two little goblets, and a carafe of wine. On either side of the table, and flat against the wall on either side of the windows, two high-backed oak chairs had been placed. Each had a woven rush seat topped with a small linen-and-burgundy-velvet brocade cushion. The large bed had two great turned posts at its foot, with a carved wooden headboard and canopy. It was hung with the same linen and brocade that covered the cushions. On both sides of the bed was a candle stand with a taperstick. There was a low, large rectangular chest at the foot of the bed, and Ellen saw that her own trunk had been placed along a wall opposite the window wall. On one side of the hearth was another small table holding a pottery basin. She saw the matching pitcher, which she knew held water, in the edge coals of the fireplace. There was a small drying cloth and washing rag.

Ellen went to her trunk and lifted out a clean chemise. Then, taking the pitcher from the coals, she poured water into the basin, then set the pitcher back in the fire. She needed a bath, but that would have to wait until the morrow. Stripping off her clothing, she washed herself as best she could. There was only a sliver of soap. She would have to ask Sim if there was a larger cake, and she should probably make a goodly supply for the year, Ellen thought. There was a small garderobe off the bedchamber. How civilized, she considered. There had been no such amenity at Lochearn, although the royal dwellings had had them both public and private. She used it, giving herself a final wash, then donned her clean chemise, brushed and plaited her hair, and climbed into bed. Which side did he prefer? Well, she would ask him when he came to bed.

But she was asleep when he came into the bedchamber, and Duncan Armstrong found that he was actually relieved. It would be easier to lie next to her if she were sleeping. He stripped off his garments and, naked, climbed into bed. She was wearing her chemise, he saw immediately, and his anxiousness was lightened a bit more. And her glorious hair was modestly braided. No temptation there. But he could not sleep. She was warm against his back, and smelled faintly of some fragrance that tickled at his nostrils. She breathed softly, and he felt her breath soft against his bare flesh. The laird gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and tried to will himself into slumber.

He finally succeeded when he managed to relax his own body and decided to enjoy her warmth and sweetness as she lay against him. How many nights of this could he endure? he wondered.

Aye, he would go to Cleit tomorrow, and then he would help move his cattle to their summer pasturage. As her husband he had every right to Ellen‘s body, but he really did want her to be ready. Perhaps she might even come to love him, and love was the one thing he had always sought in a wife. But left to his own devices would he have found it? He wasn‘t certain of the answer to his own question.

Ellen awoke at first light to find her husband by her side. And he was naked! She could see his broad shoulders, his arm, and a bit of his back. He was unclothed. It hadn‘t occurred to her that he slept nude. But then, what did she really know about how men slept? What should she do?

Even the servants wouldn‘t be stirring quite this early.

"I didn‘t realize until I got into bed last night that you would sleep clothed." His deep voice startled her.

"I didn‘t realize until I awoke a few moments ago that you would sleep naked," she answered him.

He rolled onto his back, and she could see the dark hair upon his chest. "Do I tempt you, madam?" he teased her. His blue eyes danced wickedly.

Ellen raised herself up, clutching the coverlet to her breasts. "I suspect I may tempt you far more, my lord," she said pertly.

"Aye, you do," he admitted, and then, reaching up, he pulled her down to kiss her. "How clever of you to note it, but you have not answered my question. Do I tempt you?"

"I am not familiar with flirtation or lovemaking, and until I awoke I had not even a small knowledge of the male body unclothed," Ellen answered him. She sat up again, for his closeness, she found, was far too heady. The male scent of him awoke something in her that she did not understand, and her heart was fluttering oddly. "I do not think I am ready or even capable of being tempted, but I will admit to curiosity, my lord."

Duncan chuckled, running a finger down her straight little nose. "Do you always say what you are thinking, Ellen?" He wanted to kiss her until she was breathless.

"Usually, unless my words would be hurtful to someone," Ellen replied. When he touched her she felt nervous. Not afraid, but fidgety. It was very disconcerting.

"I am going to make a quick visit to Cleit to inform my brothers of our marriage," he said. "And then I will be moving the cattle to their summer meadow. Will you be all right if I leave you for a few days?" he asked her.

She nodded. "You do not want me to ride to Cleit with you?"

"Not this time, Ellen," he told her. Then he pulled her back down into his embrace and said against her lips, "I want you to have time to grow used to being the mistress of Duffdour, to sleeping in this bed, to accepting that the next time we share a bed you will become my wife in more than just name." Then his mouth closed over hers, and, rolling her over onto her back, he kissed her softly at first, but as he found she could respond to his lips on hers, his kiss became more passionate, more intimate, more demanding. And then he lifted his mouth from hers. "I will leave you now, Ellen," he said, rising from their bed. Then he turned to face her. "This is what a man full-grown looks like, wife." He gave her time to look at him in his nakedness, his blue-veined cock aroused, before, turning abruptly, he walked across the room to dress himself.

Ellen‘s heart was hammering with a mixture of fright and excitement. She had actually gasped softly when he had turned to face her. He had broad shoulders and a broad chest that was covered with a small mat of dark curls. It matched the thick curls at the junction of his groin that cushioned what she suspected was a very impressive manhood. His waist and hips were

narrow—nay, sleek. He had very long legs and long, slender feet. His arms were muscled. When he had turned she had admired the graceful line of his back and his tight buttocks. His body was beautiful, if indeed a man could be called beautiful. She wondered if he would find her body beautiful.

"I will see you in a few days," he told her, dressing and leaving their bedchamber.

The sky outside the room was now light, but the sun had not quite risen. Ellen lay in the big bed.

She would be alone for the next few nights, and then…She shivered. He had said it plainly: When he returned he would make her a woman—take her virginity and use her body. Ellen

shivered again. She knew enough to know the details of the coupling. What she didn‘t know was whether she would like it. What if she didn‘t like it? How many times did they have to do it to create a bairn? Would he stop when she had given him the heirs he needed? There was so much she needed to know, and there was no one whom she could ask. Peigi, bless her, can‘t tell me what I need to know, Ellen thought. She would have to learn with experience, she decided. She would have to rely on Duncan, who surely had great experience where women, their bodies, and lovemaking were concerned. Ellen rolled over, drawing the coverlet up over her. He would be gone now, she thought as she fell back asleep.

And he was. He had gone directly to the stables, saddled his own horse, and left through his new gates, telling the watchman that he would be at Cleit. He realized an hour later that he hadn‘t bothered to stop in the kitchens and take a day‘s rations. He‘d be very hungry by the time he reached his half brother‘s keep. At least the day was fair. When the sun was high and he had been riding for several hours, he stopped to water his horse, and considered that he should have taken several men at arms with him. It was early summer, and he hoped not to run into any raiding parties.

The day was long, and before dark he sighted Cleit Keep ahead on the crest of a hill. The laird of Cleit‘s cattle grazed in one field, his sheep in the other. Duncan Armstrong rode down the hill onto the narrow road leading to the stone structure. He knew that the watchman had spotted him as soon as he had come over the rise, for Conal Bruce was a careful man where the safety of his family was concerned. Reaching the keep, he dismounted in the small courtyard, turning his horse over to a stable lad, and entered the dwelling, going directly to the hall. His sister-in-law, Adair, saw him first.

"Duncan!" she exclaimed, and, rising, came to greet him.

"Adair," he said, bussing her on both cheeks. "You are beautiful as always, madam," Duncan told her, spinning her about. "Where are my nephews and my niece?"

"In the nursery with their nursemaid. How early did you leave Duffdour? You look tired and hungry."

"I left just before dawn, and I forgot to take something to eat with me," he admitted to her. "I am starving, and could use some of Elsbeth‘s good bread and meat."

"Fetch some meat and bread for my lord," Adair instructed a serving girl. "And wine! Do not dally."

"Where is Conal?" the laird of Duffdour asked her.

"In the village on the other side of the hill. The English raided last night and took some livestock and three women. He‘s gone to get the details, and will go raiding tonight to see if he can regain what was stolen. It‘s unlikely the English will expect the Scots quite so soon, so we may have the advantage. I‘m glad you‘re here. You can go with him. Is all well at Duffdour?"