The Bruised Thistle (The Order of the Scottish Thistle) (27 page)

Iseabail knelt in front of the cross and was using her dress as a rag to clean the floor.

“What is amiss?” Alarm bells sounded.

“I am cleaning the floor.” She was bent over and sweating from exertion.

“This may not be the best time—”

“It has to be done.” Her scrubbing increased as she spoke. “This is a place of prayer. How can we pray in such a dirty place as this?”

Her hair hung loose, down to the floor, and swayed wildly with the intensity of her effort. The benches had been shifted to the far side, and it looked as if she had worked her way from there.

“Why are ye doing this?”

She gave an exasperated sigh. “I just told you.”

He glanced at her again. He had never heard her use that tone of voice before. “Are ye not well?”

“Of course I am well. I am doing my job.” She shook her head. “I am doing the best I can. Now leave me if you only wish to interrupt me further.”

Quickly, he closed the distance and dropped to his haunches. “Iseabail?” She ignored him. “I would have ye look at me when I speak to ye.”

Nothing. He glanced down and saw the stain she scrubbed at was from her own fingers. He grabbed her hand. “Iseabail. You are bleeding”

Finally she stopped. She looked up at him, and he saw her tears.

“Oh, sweet Iseabail.” He took her in his arms. “Wheesht, now.”

She began to cry uncontrollably. Seumas’s heart broke for her.

“Let me just hold ye.” He cradled her in his arms until her sobbing had eased.

Big rain drops fell against the slate roof of the chapel, reverberating in the room. He rocked her gently while her tears dried up. She clutched the front of his tunic, and he smoothed her hair off her shoulder and down her back.

The rain lessened, and Iseabail’s crying stopped. He lifted her, she wrapped her arms about his neck, and he carried her back to the house. Iseabail blanched when her glance went to where Giles’s body had been. She paused, shook her head slightly then turned away, as if to force the memory from her mind. He was awestruck by her strength. Seumas grabbed the half-loaf of bread he had found in storage and carried her up the stairs. He placed her on her feet beside the bed.

“I found some foodstuffs in the root cellar. There were turnips, carrots, greens, and squash. It was near to bursting, so we will not want for anything.”

Her eyes brightened, and she smiled at him.

“Does a stew sound good?”

She nodded. He headed to the door, and she called out to him in a panicked voice. “Do not leave me.” She ran into his arms.

“I will protect ye.” Seumas stroked her hair, holding her tightly as she sobbed anew. “Mayhap sleep is what we need most.”

Tears slipped down her cheeks as she looked at him. He wiped them away, tipping her chin up for a kiss. She started to loosen the ties at her side, but Seumas pushed her hands away.

“Let me take care of ye.”

He worked both sides loose before pulling off the filthy dress. He threw it in the corner. He would burn it the next day. His chest tightened at how lost she looked standing there only in her chemise. He held her against him, kissing her hair lightly then brought her to the urn of water, pouring it for her. She splashed herself clean.

“Methinks ye are wearing most of the dirt from the chapel yerself.” He wanted to keep her mind on happier thoughts, not the scene in the kitchen.

She laughed and sat on the side of the bed, taking the bread he offered.

“We will have much to do tomorrow, though.” Taking a hunk of the bread himself and moving to sit at the head of the bed, behind Iseabail, he continued with his plans. “I need to check the stores of grain and the condition of the silo. Ye will need to bake bread and pies and whatever else will be needed to get through winter.”

Her face lit up when she looked at him and nodded, but the tightness around her mouth spoke of her weariness. He felt it as well. It had been a long, hard day. He poured a cup of water for them to share then Iseabail settled against his chest, the heavy
blanket covering them snugly.

“Tomorrow will surely be a better day,” Iseabail said, right before she drifted off.

Seumas soon followed suit.

Exciting as it was to run her own house, after a long day of domestic chores, Iseabail went to bed exhausted. Seumas had worked as hard outside as she had in, but he lovingly helped her remove her clothing. He was not as inclined to help her into her bedclothes.

They came to the bed naked and made love slowly, exploring and finding new sensations to prolong and enjoy until they fell into a deep sleep.

Iseabail dreamed of her brother and woke to the room in total darkness, petrified. Seumas’s chest was damp where she had been crying. Half-asleep, he caressed her and offered her words of comfort. She tried to settle back down.

Calum, I miss you so much.

As she dozed off to sleep again, she heard his voice. “It will not be long now.”

Her eyes flew open, and her heart raced. She held her breath and listened. What was it she had heard? A feeling of foreboding came over her, and her stomach clenched. She held Seumas tighter. Had she heard
Calum
? Was he telling her death was near? Panicked, she moved in closer to Seumas. She was ice cold. He woke enough to respond with warm caresses that soothed her, finally lulling her back into a restful sleep, undisturbed by dreams.

The next day, they were reluctant to leave the warm cocoon of their bed. Iseabail stretched, her arm hit the cool air and she yanked it back in. “It is cold.” She shivered, snuggling against Seumas’s warmth.

“Aye, that it is.” He yawned and tucked her head under his chin. “Perhaps a little more sleep will do us some good.”

Too soon, necessity required Iseabail get out of bed. She donned her chemise and padded down to the kitchen. The sound of scurrying mice gave her a start, and she realized they had gotten into the food she had put up the day before.

“Oh, scat, you. Scat.” Iseabail used the broom to scare the vile creatures into leaving.

“I am coming, Iseabail!” Seumas’s muffled voice carried to her while she danced from foot to foot, afraid she would not make it to the privy outside.

“No, I am fine.” Her irritation carried in her voice, and she instantly felt remorse. It was not his fault she had not properly covered the food.

Iseabail hurried back into the house after seeing to her needs. Seumas was bent over the fire, moving the ashes around. He quickly got the flames licking at new logs, and Iseabail came in behind him and grabbed him close to her.

“Ye are
freezing
.” His voice boomed. No doubt he was startled by the cold hands and body so quickly enveloping him.

She giggled.

“Did ye go out with nothing on?” He turned to face her.

She shrugged.

His glance at the empty hooks by the door made him frown. “So many things are not where they should be.” His eyes looked stormy, their depths a dark blue. “The little things that make a home seem to have been stripped away. It is very irritating.”

He scratched his nose, considering. “Stand here.” He put her in front of him, between himself and the fire.

The now-roaring flames gave off much-needed heat.

“Mmm, that feels good.” Iseabail’s fingers began to tingle with the returning heat.

“Even yer bum is frozen.” He rubbed his hot hands against her icy bottom, working to heat her from the inside as well. “The necessary was cold, too?”

She nodded, her teeth chattering despite her attempts to stop them. She leaned back against his body and let his warmth surround her.

“Do not worry. We will make this place a home again.”

She nodded. “I am not even a little worried. Does the fireplace upstairs work?”

“I have not yet checked the chimney. I could see no sign that it had recently been used.” He kissed her cheek as he moved to the table for a helping of cheese. “I promise to get to it today.”

Sitting on the bench beside the table, Seumas smiled, his head tilted to the side while he watched her.

Iseabail could feel his hot gaze on her and saw the resulting effect.

*****

Seumas wanted nothing more than to have a taste of his fetching wife. “Come closer, Iseabail. I find this cheese does not do as much for me as having ye on my lap will.”

She turned toward him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Oh. I had a dream last night.”

Her words put a hold on his lust, and she sat beside him on the bench. Her frown surprised him.

“It upset ye?” He put his nose against her ear and breathed in her fresh smell, trying to focus on her words. He only had to wait long enough for her to finish telling him what she wanted him to hear. She nestled against him, causing his own heat to rise. He cleared his throat. “Tell me, sweet.” He hoped he did not sound as lust-filled as he felt.

“It was about Calum.”

Having cold water splashed on him could not have been more effective at dousing his desire. He took her hand and kissed it lightly, searching her face to measure how the dream had made her feel. “What about him?”

“He was here.” Iseabail stated it so simply.

A lump in his throat made it hard to swallow. “What do ye mean?”

She gave a little laugh. “Well, it is strange, but I heard his voice.” Her brow creased in thought. “Methinks I heard his voice…I am not certain.”

He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight against him. “I know what ye mean.”

“You do?” She turned her head up to see him as he spoke.

He nodded. “Sometimes I wake up because of a sound then I cannot tell if it was a dream or actually in the room.”

She smiled. “Aye, that is it exactly.”

Seumas was assaulted by his memories of the precocious little boy and his sense of humor. Calum had known how to set Seumas off, and seemed to enjoy it.

“What did he say, do ye remember?” Seumas spoke quietly, not wanting to upset her but wanting to give her an opportunity to share what was bothering her.

“I did not actually remember the dream until I was in the privy.” She smiled at him and raised a shoulder.

He waited to see if she wanted to continue.

She looked across the room as if revisiting her dream. A shiver ran down Seumas’s spine. Her eyes looked so far away.

“He was standing by the bed…but maybe not…” She frowned as if struggling to bring the memory back. She shook her head, seeming frustrated.

Seumas tried to help her remember. “So ye were in our room? In our bed?”

Iseabail beamed at him and nodded. “Yes, that was it.”

Again, she seemed to see further than the walls of the room. “I remember I could hear your breathing.”

Seumas was surprised at this and it did not escape Iseabail’s notice. “Is that important?”

“Well, no. Probably not. I do not really know. Go on.”

She hesitated and a sad smile played on her lips. Her voice was quiet when she said, “He said he would see me soon.”

The words hung in the air. Seumas played them again in his head. Was it an omen? “Is that
exactly
what he said?” He straightened beside her, as the need to know every detail she could recall assailed him.

“Aye—” She broke off, shaking her head. “No. What he said exactly was, ‘It will not be long now.’” Iseabail shivered beside him, trying to get closer. Her breathing was shallow. “Seumas, I am afraid of what the dream means.”

He was too but did not want her to know it. He thought about how exhausted they had been, and how difficult it must have been for her to dream at all. He smiled at her.

She looked back at him, her brows raised in expectation of his wisdom.

“Perhaps it was just an exhausted mind dreaming of yer brother, whom ye loved very much.” Her eyes filled with tears, and he rubbed her back. “Ye will miss Calum every day of yer life. We both know that.”

She nodded. “I wish he could have come here and seen this place.” She glanced at her surroundings, a small smile playing on her lips. “He would have loved it.”

His chest filled with pride at her statement.

“He could have played so freely here. There are meadows, oceans, fields…lochs?”

“Aye, lochs!” He pulled back and scowled. The idea of no lochs was preposterous. “Of course we have lochs. I will need to bring ye to the loch just over the hill that way.” He pointed out past the chapel. “I have been remiss in not showing ye our own peaceful loch.”

“You must have had a wonderful childhood growing up here.” Iseabail took his hand, squeezing it gently.

“I was lonely.” Seumas was surprised by his own admission.

“But there is so much to do here. How could you have been lonely?”

“It is nice to do some things with other people. My parents were really too busy to spend time with me. They had to work so hard. That is probably why Uncle Peter, and my time at the monastery, meant so much to me. There were so many people with nothing but time to spend on me.”

“We will have several children,” Iseabail stated matter-of-factly. She placed her hand on his thigh. Was she being suggestive? His lust quickly returned when he noticed she did not remove her hand. He smiled and shifted her bottom closer.

“I really want to make sure I am doing that correctly,” Seumas started with the familiar humor.

“I am sure you are.”

Seumas frowned at that answer before he saw the light in her eyes. “I would like to just be certain,” he said with equal seriousness.

She slid her hand along his thigh. “I suppose it is good to be certain. But I really do not think—”

He silenced her protest with his kiss, dragging her across his lap. She closed her eyes as she leaned against him. Her body relaxed. He scooped her into his arms and headed up the stairs. The cold that greeted them caused Seumas to stop in the doorway.

“A nice comfortable bed in a freezing cold room?”

Iseabail slipped from his arms, grabbed the covering off the bed and headed down the steps.

Seumas helped as she spread the material in front of the fire. He kissed her, lowering her to the blanket. She sighed, encircling his neck with her arms. He worked the gown up and over her head.

“Hmm, I am hungry, my love,” he whispered against her throat between kisses, sliding his hand along her inner thigh.

He took her mouth, plundering its recesses with his tongue, and slipped his finger between her folds. She was wet, and he groaned his pleasure. “Ye are ready for me.”

She held him tightly to her mouth, rocking her hips to the movement of his fingers, her passion increasing as he thrust his fingers inside her. He settled himself between her thighs, tracing the valley between her breasts with his tongue, suckling each in worship, rolling her nipples until they became hard buds. She made a sound deep in her throat. He shifted lower, trailing kisses across her belly, from one hip to the other. She quivered at his touch but her hips stilled.

He returned to her lips, kissing her deeply. “Do not be afraid to let me love ye.”

She relaxed, and he went back to kissing her belly, running his tongue along her navel and moving his hand until she was again returning his thrusts. He moved lower, resting his head on her thigh, blowing air over her wetness.

“Seumas.” Iseabail went rigid.

“Aye?” He continued the movement of his fingers so that he heard a gasp before she spoke again.

“What are you doing?”

“That ye do not know means I can show ye.” He hated to think of what had been done to her and he had never asked. Her questioning him meant she was just inexperienced. He hated to think he would never know the sweet taste of her nectar.

He dipped his tongue into her damp hair. Her hips bucked slightly so he withdrew his finger, massaging her hips.

“Easy, my love.”

He dipped his tongue again, savoring the taste of her.

“Mmm, sweet as honey,” he whispered. Passion rode him hard, but he had to pleasure her through her fear.

He splayed open her treasures
, stroking her with his tongue. She moaned, and he was lost. The only thing that kept him from his release was wanting to hear what other pleasurable noises she would make.

Her hips rose to meet his mouth,
and she put her hands in his hair, pulling him closer.

He added his finger, and struggled to keep his own body from responding. A tall order. He focused on her pleasure, and how much he wanted her to cry out his name. The sound of the door opening, and the gust of cold air, had them both sitting up and turning toward the door, but not before the tall stranger standing there got an eyeful of the newlywed’s compromising position.

“Seumas, I beg your forgiveness. I believe you are in danger.”

Seumas recognized the voice, but the man before him was bundled so tightly that even his face was covered, and he could not tell who it was. Iseabail was pulling the blanket around her, and Seumas stood in his own knee-length tunic.

“Truly, Seumas, I am sorry to interrupt you.” The man walked closer to them, and Seumas saw Iseabail shrink back in fear.

“Hold, sir.” Seumas approached him to intimidate him with his size, although in truth they were equally matched. “What is yer name?”