The Key (4 page)

“The bed linens?” Ignoring the way his wife had suddenly stiffened beside him,Duncanpeered
at them in feigned confusion. “Why would ye be needin' the bed linens?”

There was complete silence as the men peered helplessly at each other while Seonaid
watched in confusion; then Angus suddenly turned on him irritably. “Just give us the
bleedin' I mean the bloody I mean Just give me the damn things!”

“All right, all right. No need to sic a splore. Seonaid, turn yer head.” He waited until
she had done so, then rose, gathered Iliana in the top linen, and carried her to the side.

All four visitors peered at the bed then, taking in the splotch of blood with differing
reactions. Lord Rolfe appeared relieved. Lord Angus looked satisfied. Lady Seonaid seemed
stunned, and the bishop simply smiled in approval. Then Lord Rolfe turned to gesture to
someone in the hall and Ebba rushed in. Stripping the linen off the bed, she hurried out
of the room with it, barely sparing a glance for Duncan, who stood naked as the day he was
born, a bundled Iliana his only cover.

“Well.” The laird ofDunbarnodded, his face brilliant red as he shifted toward the door,
dragging Seonaid with him. “Well done... we'll... Will ye be down to breakfast...?” His
voice faded away, the red of his face deepening at his son's grin as he shook his head.
“Well, then... We'll... er... leave ye to it. Shall we? Gentlemen?” He glanced about for
Lord Rolfe and the bishop, only to find that they had already exited. “Good night then I
mean... er...” Nodding with relief as he reached the door, he pushed his daughter through,
followed, and slammed it closed.

When the arms holding her suddenly started to shake, Iliana peered atDuncan, stunned to
see that he was shaking with silent mirth. She took a moment to wonder what he thought was
so funny, then kicked her feet unhappily. “Set me down.”

When he did so, Iliana clasped the bed linens closer about her and turned to glare
accusingly, “You ruined by mother's bed linens.” That only seemed to make him laugh
harder. Iliana stamped her foot furiously. “ 'Tis not funny, my lord. My mother and I
spent many hours embroidering those linens. They were very special to me. I would have an
explanation as to why you ruined them.”

Duncan's laughter slowed at that and he did manage a slightly repentant look, then he
sighed and shook his head. “ Tis sorry I be, madame wife. Me amusement is not at ye. I
have jest never seen me da so overset. He was a picture, he was.” His laughter ended on a
sigh as he took in her solemn face. She obviously did not see the humor. Tilting his head,
he eyed her curiously. “Didna yer mother explain the facts of life to ye, lass?”

“Of course she did.” Iliana glared at him for thinking it might be otherwise.

“Well, I didna mean to insult ye with the question,” he soothed. “ 'Tis just that ye
appeared a muckle muddled about the blood. 'Tis no shame in that,” he added hastily when
she started to stiffen up again. “Me sister, too, was a mite confused by it, ye noticed?”

“Aye, I did notice,” Iliana said warily.

“Well, Da and I have never explained the facts o' life to her. There seemed no need when
her betrothed could not be bothered to collect her.”

He fell silent for a moment, taking in her expression, then sighed. It seemed obvious to
him that while she might have been givensome of the facts of life, she had not beenfully
educated; She had started worrying her lower lip the moment he mentioned Seonaid's
ignorance.

Shifting, he explained delicately, “The blood is caused by the maiden's veil.”

Iliana's eyes narrowed at that. Her mother had not mentioned anything about a maiden's
veil. Mayhap he meant the bridal veil, she thought pensively. He quickly disillusioned her
of that.

“Ye see, a lass is born with a wee bit o'... er... flesh. Skin... in there.” He gestured
vaguely toward the apex of her thighs. “The first time she and her mate... join... the
veil be torn and there be blood. The blood proves she came to her man a virgin.” He
watched her expression closely, satisfied that she understood when she began to look
horrified

“So ye see, they wished fer the sheets to prove ye were untried ere yester eve.” For a
moment, Iliana was too busy considering the blood to think of anything else. To her, blood
meant

a wound, and a wound meant pain. Her mother had said there was a little bit of discomfort
the first time but had not mentioned anything about pain or blood. Then the other part of
his explanation caught at her attention and her wide eyes raised to his. “What did they
want with the sheet? Why did they take it?”

Duncangrimaced at the question, knowing before he spoke that she would not like the
answer. “ 'Twas taken to hang over the rail at the top of the stairs. To prove to one and
all that ye came to me pure, and that the marriage was consummated yester eve.”

She did not look pleased by the news, but merely sighed and moved around the bed to her
chests. She had begun rifling through the nearest one in search of a gown when she was
suddenly grabbed from behind and picked up in a pair of strong arms. Gasping, she grabbed
at the arms holding her and opened her mouth to ask her husband what he thought he was
doing, then cried out in surprise as she was dropped upon the bed.

Duncanfell upon her before she had even bounced once upon its soft surface. His mouth
muffled her startled cry and his hands moved hungrily here and there, seemingly touching
every part of her body almost at once.

Gasping for breath as soon as his lips left hers, Iliana pushed at his chest in an attempt
to remove him, but it was impossible. He did not even seem to notice her efforts as he
tugged at the bed linens to bare her body to his view. Iliana immediately gave up pushing
at him and caught at those instead, trying to retain the small covering, but she lost that
battle as well. The cloth slipped through her clutching fingers until her breasts were
bared.

Much to her combined relief and dismay, the moment he spied those,Duncanleft off tugging
at the linens, leaving them tangled and bunched about her waist and hips. Eyes lighting up
like a child's at Christinas, he released an exclamation and lunged for the two orbs he
had revealed, pouncing on them like a miser on money. Testing their weight, he kneaded
their softness, then fastened his mouth on one and suckled like a starving child briefly
before turning to the other.

Duncanwas so caught up in the scent, feel, and taste of his bride, it took him a moment to
notice her efforts at escape. Once he did, he ignored them. To his mind, she was just a
bit frightened by the knowledge he had imparted regarding the first time between a man and
a woman. She most likely feared the bedding now. 'Twas to be expected, but 'twas better to
get such things over and done with quickly. 'Twas a good thing, too, for he feared the
feel of her wiggling beneath him was going to make it fair difficult to go slow and
tender. Damn! She was like a flame and he dry tinder, he thought, then felt something hard
press against his groin as she arched and twisted beneath him.

Stilling, he frowned against the pink flesh of one breast and pressed himself against her
again. When he felt the hardness once more, then felt it shift, he released her at once
and pulled away in honor, tales of odd men who liked to dress as women flashing through
his head. “What have ye got down there?”

Iliana was so caught up in the struggle, it took a moment for her to realize she had
nothing to fight anymore. Once it registered, however, and she saw the stunned, horrified
look on her husband's face as he awaited her answer, she frowned in confusion. “What?”

Duncanreached for the linens tangled around her hips, then paused. Fear flashing across
his face, he raised his eyes to her breasts. Aye, they were breasts all right. Rather than
remove the linens, he reached down suddenly and pressed his hand to her crotch, barely
catching a feel of the hardness there before she scooted away and tried to flee the bed.
He let her escape, leaping from the bed himself as she did.

“What the devil be ye?” he asked hoarsely, facing her across the bed as she struggled to
cover herself with the linens without revealing what lay between her legs.

His eyes devoured her breasts with a sort of desperation now, all fire gone from his face
and all color with it. Iliana frowned at this turn of events. “What the devil do you think
I am?”

“I donna ken. Ye've the face and breasts of a woman, but...” Misery twisted his brow as
his gaze dropped below her waist. “Ye've something hard where a woman has no business
havin' something hard.”

Iliana's eyes widened in amazement as she realized he had felt the lock hanging from the
front of the chastity belt and seemed at a loss as to what to make of it. She could not,
for the life of her, think what conclusions he was coming to, but was fair sure from his
reaction that they were not complimentary. What did he think she had between her legs?

She was so busy pondering that, that it took her a second to realize that he was moving
again, heading around the bed toward her. Giving a squeal, she whirled and started across
the bed. A glance over her shoulder showed her husband reaching the side of the bed and
lunging for her. She felt a tug on the linens, tried to hold on to the cloth and keep
moving, but felt it slip from her fingers as she lurched off the bed and stumbled into the
wall beside the door. With nothing left to do, Iliana covered her breasts with her hands
and turned warily to face her husband.

Duncangaped at the contraption she wore, but had barely taken in the leather straps with
the gleaming lock in front before she turned to flee toward her chests. Nothing on earth
could have stopped him from leaping the bed to reach her side.

Catching her about the waist, he tugged her backward, twisting so that they landed side by
side on the bed. He then threw a leg over both of hers and leaned up slightly so that he
could peer once more at the contraption she wore.

“Damn.” The word came out in a hiss of air as he examined the apparatus. Catching her
hands easily in one of his own when she started to struggle, he held them above her head,
his eyes never leaving the belt. “What be it?” he asked with awe.

“ 'Tis a belt of chastity,” Iliana admitted grimly, then caught at her lower lip and began
to worry it between her teeth.

“I have never seen the like.”

“ Twas invented by Francesco Carrarro.A... a friend of my father's.”

“How did ye come by it?”

“Father brought it back from his last visit,” Iliana answered reluctantly. “He gave my
mother and myself both one.”

“And yer mother had ye wear it to ensure yer chastity 'til ye reached me,” he guessed,
giving the front strap an experimental tug. “ 'Tis leather.”

“Aye,” Iliana gasped, her head turned to the side to avoid the stink of his armpits as she
tried to tug her hands loose. Damn, he smelled foul.

Shifting, he turned her abruptly onto her stomach so that he could look at the back of it,
taking in the way the center strap was sturdily fastened to the belt there.

“Let me up,” Iliana snapped over her shoulder, embarrassment flushing her face.

Duncanignored her, his gaze wandering to the cheeks of her bottom on either side of the
leather. 'Twas a fascinating sight. The round, smooth pink flesh, separated by the dark
brown leather. Reaching out, he caressed one cheek lightly and smiled. The belt was a
great relief to him. For a moment, he had thought he had gotten more than he had bargained
for in a wife. Pinching one perfect cheek for the scare he'd had,Duncansmiled over her
startled squeal, then flipped her onto her back again, his gaze turning to the lock that
held the contraption closed.

“How do ye undo this?” Slipping a finger beneath the center strip, he ran it along her
skin until it rested against her womanhood, where he gave the leather a gentle tug.

“A key,” Iliana answered thickly, then swallowed.

“Where be the key?” His finger slid back up along the belt, setting off a clamoring within
Iliana that occupied her briefly. She was damn relieved when his hand stilled and his head
raised toward her in question.

Clearing her throat she met his gaze. “I...” Pausing, she swallowed and tried again. “I
will give you the key if you take a bath.”

Duncanstilled, confusion his only expression. “A bath? Tis not July yet. Why the devil
should I take a bath?”

“July?” Iliana frowned. “What has that to do with it?”

“I bathe twice a year,” he told her proudly. “The last day o' every January and every
July. Why would ye wish me to change that and bathe in the middle o' June?”

“Because... because I find your odor offensive?” she offered timidly. “What?” “I said” “I
heard what ye said, woman! I am not deaf. What the devil do yemean ?”

Arms stretched above her head and lower body trapped beneath his, Iliana was beginning to
feel like a sacrificial virgin. Temper flaring, she snapped, “You smell like a chamber
pot! I do not care to be near you and I will not give you the key unless you take a bath!”

Duncanpulled back to stare at her in dismay, completely flummoxed by her audacity. “Ye are
denyin' me rights as yer lawful wedded husband?”

“Nay! I deny you nothing,” Iliana contradicted at once, trying to sound reasonable as she
added, "But if

you will not do me the courtesy of taking a bath, I will not“ ”Yeare denyin' me!“ he
accused, storm clouds gathering on his forehead. ”Nay, I“ Her words died as he suddenly
released her and threw himself from the bed. ”Well! We shall just see about that!" he
snarled, collecting his discarded clothes.

Sitting up slowly, Iliana anxiously watched him chess. “What will you do?” Her mouth
tightened when an angry look was her only answer. He was nearly fully dressed ere she gave
in and asked, “Will you have the wedding annulled?”

Iliana cringed even as she asked the question. The consequences of such an action were
horrendous even to consider. She would be returned to Wildwood in shame and her mother
would likely be well and truly trapped with Greenweld. That could not happen. Her gaze
rose instinctively to the drapes above the bed where the key rested.

“Annulled?”Duncanturned on her, chawing her gaze back to his face. “Now that would be a
trick, would it not? The bloody linens are probably already ahangin' from the railin'. Ye
recall them, do ye not? Yer mother's linens withmy blood on them?”

Iliana nodded her head slowly, relief rushing through her. He could not have the marriage
annulled. Everyone thought it consummated. “What will you do then?” she asked now, but got
no answer as he finished dressing and stormed out of the room.

Duncanpulled the door closed with an angry bang. Pausing, he lifted one arm to sniff at it
and scowled. He smelled just as he should in June. That did not seem good enough for his
wife, however. It seemed she would have him bathed and powdered like one of her English
dandies. Well, he would not have it. Should he give in on this, next she would have him
wearing braies and hose. An indecent outfit as far as he was concerned, what with the way
they clung to the body, emphasizing the lumps and bumps of a man's personal apparatus.

Nay. He bathed every July and January and had done so for a long time now... and he would
continue to do so. If his wee wife thought to change him, she could think again. And
should she continue to refuse him his rights... well, he would just have to see to it that
she did not refuse, Duncan decided, recalling the brief image he had been given of her in
naught but the small scraps of leather and the lock at her groin.

'Twas a damn exciting contraption no matter its name. And his wife had a luscious figure.
He would not mind seeing her in that belt again. Hell, he would rather see her without it.

So much for the wedding night he thought gloomily, leaving the door to stride down the
hall. He should set her aside. Have the wedding annulled no matter the fact that everyone
would then know that it had not been consummated. But damned if she did not now have the
same attraction as a gift all wrapped up and left on his bed Christmas morn.Duncandearly
wanted to unwrap her.

Mayhap he could, he thought suddenly, as he reached the top of the stairs leading down to
the great hall. Aye, mayhap he could. He would have a talk with the smithy.

Iliana sighed dismally and forced herself to get up and chess. She ran into some small
difficulty right away. The belt of chastity was good for keeping unwanted intimacies at
bay but was quite inconvenient when it came to certain personal needs. It would have to be
removed.

Still clad in only the belt, she stepped onto the foot of the bed, grasped an end post to
maintain her balance, and stretched a hand up to feel around in the drapes that were
gathered over the bed. It did not take long to realize that this was not a good hiding
spot. It seemed she had thrown the key farther than she had meant to. She could not feel
it.

A knock at the door made her stiffen. “Who is it?”

Ebba's voice answered and Iliana relaxed with a sigh. Calling out to her to enter, she
immediately turned back to the bed chapes, this time poking at the underside of them,
trying to pop the key out.

“My lady!” Ebba gaped at her briefly, then hurriedly closed the door and rushed to her
side. “What are you doing, my lady?”

“Trying to get the blasted key out of the drapes. Find me something long to fetch it out
with. I fear I have an urgent need to relieve myself.”

The maid's eyes widened at that, and she made a brief search of the room, coming up with a
poker from beside the fire. “Will this do?”

“Aye, it should.” Taking the poker, Iliana began jabbing at the material again. “Did
you... He... You did not wear that thing all the night long, did you?” “Aye.” After a
brief silence, the woman asked, “Was his lordship very put out?” “My husband passed out on
the floor last night. He did not awake 'til morn.” “But the sheets were”

“He cut his hand and spread the blood on the linens. My best linens,” she added grimly.

“He knows not about the belt, then?” Ebba ventured hopefully as she eyed with distaste the
single item of clothing her mistress was wearing.

“He knows. He found out this morn after everyone left.”

“How did he react?”

“How do you think?” she asked dryly, then cried out with relief as the key finally slid
off of the drapes. Dropping the poker on the bed, she jumped to the floor to retrieve the
small item, sighing with mingled relief and pleasure as she finally clasped it in her hand.

“What will you do?”

Iliana looked surprised. “Why, take it off, of course.” Just as Ebba began to look
relieved, she added, “ 'Twill be nice to be without it for a few minutes at least.”

The woman gaped at her. “Surely you do not intend to put it back on?”

“Of course.” She frowned over her maid's disapproving expression. “I told you last night,
Ebba. I shall not live like this. I will have a clean home, a clean bed, and a clean man
in it. If it kills us both,” she added on a mutter as she unlocked the belt.

“Gilley.”Duncancauglit the smithy's arm as he drew abreast of him and urged him to a halt,
forcing a stiff smile to his own lips as he did. He had meant to have a word with the man
directly on leaving the bedchamber that mom. Howbeit, he had been caught up by one concern
or another all morning. Now, when it was Hearingmidday, he had finally managed to get away
long enough to seek out the locksmith. “I would have a word with ye.”

Gilley hesitated, then nodded. “Aye, but yer da is awaitin' me inside. He wishes another
set of keys made. Fer yer bride,” he explained whenDuncanlooked perplexed.

“Why would she be needin' a set of keys?”

“She is chatelaine now,” the man pointed out with surprise.

Duncangrunted over that, then shrugged it aside. “I shall be quick. Tis about locks and
keys I wished to speak with ye as well. Ye see, I have this lock I need to unlock, but I
have no key and kenned mayhap ye could tell me how to do it?”

He blinked. “Well, if ye bring it to me, I can surely do it fer ye.”

Duncanimagined carting Iliana to the locksmith's hut, setting her on his table, and
throwing her skirts over her head to reveal the lock. Nay, 'twas not an option. The tale
would reach every comer of the keep ere the nooning meal. Besides, he did not like the
idea of having another man's eyes on his wife's belt of chastity. Or what it hid.

“Nay. I canna be doin' that. Tis not possible.” He shook his head firmly. “Ye'll have to
be tellin' me how todoitonmeown.”

The locksmith frowned. “I canna be tellin' ye how, less I be seein' the lock in question.
If ye canna bring it to me, then surely I can be goin' to it?”

“Nay. Ye canna.” He scowled irritably. “Just tell me how to open locks.”

“If 'twas that easy, everyone would be a locksmith. I canna help ye less I see it.”

“Well... Damn!” Reaching for the sword at his belt, he tugged it from his sheath and used
it to chaw a rough sketch of the lock in the dirt at their feet. “There,” he said with
satisfaction as he finished the picture. “Does that not help ye?”

The locksmith's eyebrows rose slightly. “What be it?” “What do ye think 'tis, ye bloody
fool! Tis the lock.” Gilley shrugged, unconcerned by the insult. “Looks more like a mouse
to me.” “Aye. A mouse.” Angus's voice sounded by his left shoulder.

Slumping in defeat,Duncanturned to peer at his father. “Whatdo ye want?”

Angus raised his eyebrows but smiled slightly despite his son's irritation. “I was lookin'
fer Gilley here.”

“Well, I'll leave ye to him then.”

“Nay, I'd ha'e a word with ye as well.”

WhenDuncanturned back questioningly, Angus gestured toward the men in the bailey. “Have ye
a man or two to spare this afternoon?”

“There may be one or two I could do without,” he admitted slowly. Ever since he had turned
nineteen his father had been giving him responsibility overDunbarkeep and its people. It
had started with a little here and a little there, adding more and more with each passing
year until now, he was pretty much in charge of all who served them. Unofficially.
Officially, his father was laird and had veto power over any decision Duncanmade until he
died. In reality, they worked serious decisions out between them, benefiting from Angus's
wisdom andDuncan's vigor and passion.

“Good, good. Send 'em up to the keep when ye be gettin' the chance then, hmm?” He smiled
at him cheerfully, then turned to Gilley. “Now, about those keys”

“What be ye needin' the men in the keep fer?”Duncaninterrupted suspiciously. He very
rarely saw his father so cheerful. The man had been solemn and grim most ofDuncan's life.
At least since his wife. Lady Muireall, had died. InDuncan's faint memories his mother had
been a bolt of sunshine that had made everyone around her happy... including her irascible
husband.

“ Tis not me. Tis yer wife,” his father told him easily. “She's made a start on cleanin'
up the great hall. She had the women throw out all the old rushes, then set 'em to
ascrubbin' the stone floor, and she'll need new rushes to”

“What the devil was wrong with the old rushes?”

Angus Dunbar raised his eyebrows in slight surprise at his son's show of temper. “Well,
lad, they have been there fer nigh on a year.”

“And would have lasted another year just fine. We always leave the rushes about fer a year
or two ere changin1'em.”