The MacNaughton Bride (2 page)

His breath caught as her
long, red gold ringlets were revealed, clinging and framing that pale, delicate
face.
 
Clear, bright blue eyes
peered out at him from above full pink lips that were curved into a small,
distinctly apprehensive smile.
 
Her
dress was very much like her coat – clean, but well worn and much too
thin for the temperature.
 
Kell
frowned.
 
Her dowry was more than ample for his needs and he had expressly left
funds for her trousseau, so that she would have the things she needed
 
– had her Uncle not seen fit to
outfit her for the weather?

Kell
saw her flinch as he frowned, but then watched with interest as she
deliberately stiffened her back, never lowering her eyes from his face.
 
She was a tiny little thing, barely a
handful, but apparently she had backbone.
 
As long as she kept to her place, that would come in handy.
 
Even nowadays, life in the Highlands
wasn’t easy.

 
Peeling off cotton gloves that more closely resembled Swiss
cheese, she walked up to him slowly, her hand outstretched towards him.
 
He could feel the fine tremor in her
fingers as he bent low over her hand and pressed his lips to the back of her
hand, noting its iciness and the blue around her nails.

“Lord
MacNaughton
?”

Her voice was softer than
any he’d heard before, melting over him slowly, like thick, hot honey.
 
Not given to flights of fancy –
ever –
Kell’s
frown deepened.
 
“Yes, and you are Miss
Aislinn
Montgomery.”

“Yes.”
 

He tugged her gently but
implacably over to the fire to warm up.
 
Kell
had been born and raised her.
 
The cold rugged weather only served to
invigorate him – there wasn’t a chill bump on him.
 
“Why don’t you rest yourself here for a
moment, and I’ll go upstairs and change into something more presentable.”
 
It was as close to an apology for not
being ready for her arrival that she was likely to get from him.
 
He wasn’t given to apologizing to much
of anyone, much less a woman.

Aislinn
nodded.
 
She wasn’t sure she was
interpreting what he was saying correctly, but she sure did like how he said
it.
 
It was surprising to realize
that they were both using the same language – generally.
 
It was going to take her a while to get
used to his brogue, but she had a pretty good ear for languages, thankfully.

Once he’d left, and Jenny
had disappeared trying to find someone to bring her mistress a cup of hot tea,
Aislinn
rocked herself quietly before the fire for a
moment, like the obedient betrothed she would probably never be.
 
Well, most of her prayers about her
future husband had gone ignored.
 
She wasn’t at all surprised that her Uncle hadn’t heeded her wishes in
the least, but she’d hoped that the Good Lord would listen to at least some of
her requests.
 

But it wasn’t to be,
apparently.
 
The man who, tomorrow,
would have the right to do as he pleased with her was taller and broader than
any mountain she’d ever seen.
 
She’d never seen a man’s naked chest before, and his was as close to
that state as she’d ever encountered – just a slash of what she assumed
was the clan plaid across it, his tanned flesh glistening with sweat even in
the cold, muscles bugling and rippling with every movement.
 
He was huge, and
throbbingly
male.
 
His hand had completely
engulfed hers, and, although he was obviously trying to be gentle about it,
there was no denying him when he guided her over to the fire.
 
She barely reached his shoulder, and he
probably outweighed her by more than ten stone.

What would it be like to
spend the long, dark winter nights with a man like this, who was so obviously
physically fit and more than capable of fulfilling his husbandly duties?
 
Aislinn
was
glad she could blame her flaming cheeks on the fire.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“I believe my maid’s gone
to get me some tea.
 
I’m really not
very hungry, but thank you, my Lord.”

He was of a mind that she
could stand to be fattened up some, but he held his tongue.
 
She was so tiny – he was going to
dwarf her in bed.
 
The thought made
him flush, thankful for his forgiving kilt as he adjusted his position.
 

Her maid appeared with a
try of tea, pouring him a cup automatically.

Jenny knew just how she
took it – with plenty of milk and sugar.
 
She watched her future husband closely, considering how
absurd that tiny cup looked in that massive paw – she took heart that he
hadn’t broken it outright.
 
Perhaps
he knew how to temper his strength.
 
Aislinn
could only hope.

Kell
leaned back in the chair, putting his cup and saucer on a chair side table, and
studied her.
 
He couldn’t believe
his good fortune.
 
She was
beautiful - and very obviously uncertain about him and her future, as one would
expect.
 
He watched her fiddle with
one of the slightly ratty ribbons on her dress, and occasionally heard her cup
rattle against its saucer, until she consciously stilled it.
 
It appeared that his little bride had a
not inconsiderable will of her own.

That was an element he
hadn’t considered, and he’d have to see just how far she tried to push it
– not that he was going to give her much leeway.
 
“I imagine you’re tired after your long
trip.
 
Why don’t I show you to your
room?”

Aislinn
was amazed that he wasn’t having a servant do that.
 
He was a peer of the realm, after all.
 
Even if he was just Scottish.
 
But he was up and offering her his arm
before she had a chance to answer yes or no.
 
He tucked her hand into his elbow and guided her up the huge
staircase and down a sparsely furnished hall.
 
When he threw opened the door, she walked into the largest
bedroom she’d ever seen – to her limited experience, it should have been
a ballroom rather than a bedroom, although, beyond the monumentally huge bed,
there was precious little furniture in it.
 
The mere sight of the bed colored
Aislinn’s
cheeks, although she did her best to ignore it.

Kell
had originally intended to put her in a non-descript guest room, but then he
decided that he liked the idea of his wife to be using his bedroom, and his
bed.
 
As she looked about the room,
he caught her somewhat disappointed expression, and glanced about it himself,
seeing it for the first time in her eyes.
 
MacNaughton
Keep had been without a female
influence for quite a while – since his dear mother’s death when he was
barely out of
breeks
.
 
The entirely male dominated population had done away with a
lot of what they had considered feminine furniture and folderol.
 
Kell
frowned.
 
Undoubtedly, the lady of
the manor would like to make some changes, and he was fine with that idea.
 
It would keep her busy – keep her
from getting into his hair.

There were Irish lace inset
curtains as well as heavy velvet draperies, in a hunter green that echoed the
green in what she assumed was the clan plaid that covered the canopied
bed.
 
There was a dark mahogany
highboy dresser on one of the walls, as well as a large wardrobe, but no other
furniture in the vast room.
 
The
glass windows were chalky with soot and she could barely see down to the well
manicured lawns, and the ledge had dust nearly an inch thick.

She would have her work cut
out for her, she could see.

Jenny bustled past her Lord
and set
Aislinn’s
two ratty valises on the bed.

“There must be more in the
carriage – “
 
Kell
found himself surprisingly uncomfortable in his own
bedroom, with her eying it with obvious distaste.

“There’s nothing more.” The
words were plain and quiet – not a complaint, but a mere statement of
fact.

Already half way to the
door,
Kell
turned and addressed the small woman . . .
his small woman.
 
“Where is your
wardrobe?
 
I left money with your
Uncle – “

Her sharp guffaw startled
him, coming from such a tiny source.
 
“I fear whatever funds you left with him greased the palms of those
merchants other than a courtier – a barkeep, most probably, and then
whatever gaming establishments will still grant him entrance.”

Kell
sighed, grimacing.
 
He should have
been more careful about her Uncle.
 
Something had told him that trusting that man wasn’t a good idea, but he
was in a hurry as usual, uncomfortable as always in the South and trying to get
as much done as he could before coming back to more familiar ground.
 
“Were you able to get anything at all
for the trip?”

Aislinn
shrugged.
 
“No.
 
I came with what I own –“ she
nodded towards the two cases.
 
“That’s it.”

Kell
was astonished.
 
Most of the women
he’d known – not that there had been a thousand of them, but there had
been quite a few, especially in his younger, wilder days – had had heaps
and heaps of clothes, and changed four, five, sometimes six times a day,
depending on what activities they were participating in.
 
Different clothes for day, lunch,
evening, riding, going out and about town . . . and here she was, his bride in
two days, and all of her worldly possessions fit into two small bags.

She was staring at her
feet, obviously discomfited by how having him see how little she came to
 
him with in the way of material
possessions.
 
Most women also had
some sort of a hope chest, at the very least, or even a houseful of
housewares
and furniture that they inherited from their
family.

But apparently not his
little bride.
 
Kell
was suddenly struck by how little he knew about her.
 
“Your mother died when you were young?”

“Yes – when w- I was
born.”

He wandered towards her
slowly.
 
“And your father?”

“Drank himself to death,”
she replied starkly, and
Kell
nodded.

“What happened to the
contents of where you lived?”

“They went to pay his debts
and bar bills when he died. Uncle took us in, but only because of the money
that my Mother’s family had set aside for us – me – so that we
would have a nice dowry with which to find a husband.”
 
Aislinn
bit
her lip and looked up at him.
 
Sometimes he looked almost approachable, but not often.
 
“May I ask you how much he told you
there was?”

“Thirty thousand
pounds.”
 
Kell
watched her reaction carefully, amused by her derisive snort, and the resultant
bright red blush.

“I apologize.
 
That wasn’t very ladylike of me.”
 
She was relieved to see his faintly
amused smile.
 
“There was at least
forty-five there the last time I saw a statement, which, granted, was a year or
so before Father died.
 
I was
concerned that he’d convinced the executor of my grandparents’ estate to give
him the money to ‘
safekeep
’ while he found me a
husband.”

“I’m surprised he let you
go at all.”
 
Kell
leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

Aislinn
could see the barely leashed power in the way his biceps bulged – he
could barely get his arms crossed over themselves, they were so big
around.
 
She averted her gaze to
the toes of her nearly worn through slippers where the peeped out from beneath
her skirt.
 
“So am I, but I made
sure I was enough of an annoyance to him that he would want to get rid of me as
soon as was humanly possible.”

Kell’s
bushy
eyebrow rose at that statement.
 
An
annoyance,
hmmmmm
?
 
Best to nip that kind of thing in the bud, he thought, his
face closing tight and dark, like a storm cloud looming over rolling green
hills.
 
“Well, just in case you
were thinking of continuing any sort of shenanigans like that here, I’m more
than prepared to take care of it in a manner that will surely deter any further
such behavior.”