The MacNaughton Bride (21 page)

As soon as he’d given her a
lingering kiss goodbye,
Aislinn
sat up and gave Jenny
a list of things that needed to be done or at least checked on.
 
It was the day before the ball, and
there were a thousand things to do. She chafed badly at being confined to bed,
and seriously considered disobeying her lord and master.

But then, she knew he would
have told the entire household that she was not to get out of bed, and she also
knew that they knew what side their bread was buttered, and she’d be ratted out
immediately, as soon as her toes hit the floor, despite how well she’d taken
care of them.

So she sighed and instead
ran Jenny and
Sile
ragged. The cook had to leave the
kitchen to come up and discuss things with her mistress, which made lunch and
dinner both late, which didn’t set well with his lordship, but he got no
sympathy at all when he complained as they ate dinner together in their
room.
 
He wouldn’t even let her
come down for dinner.
 
Instead,
they ate together and then he gave
Aislinn
a long,
sleep inducing massage that, although he was more than ready and willing,
didn’t end in sex.
 
He wanted her
to sleep and recover.
 
He also
wanted to teach himself some control around her, so that he wasn’t exhausting
her every night.
 
He needed to
learn to pace himself – they had their whole lives together.

Aislinn
awoke the next morning well before her husband, and lay there with his head on
her shoulder, their limbs entwined, wondering if he could like her just a
little bit.
 
She knew better than
to look for love – their relationship had been much more along the lines
of an exchange of cold hard cash.
 
But she hoped he might at least come to like her a little, enough that
he wouldn’t feel the need to seek out any other woman.
 
Even though he sometimes treated her
like a naughty little girl, she liked him a lot.
 
He was an intelligent and honorable man.
 
He’d admitted it and apologized when he
was wrong about her.
 
Most men
would never bother doing so to their wife.
 
He let her have a free rein with the house and wasn’t a
drunken sot, either.

She just hoped that she
could be enough for him.

That evening, the guests
had all arrived and were, as far as she could tell, was having enjoying
themselves.
 
Nearly everyone was
dancing in the big hall, or indulging in the refreshments that she and
Sile
had so carefully planned.
 
Everything had come of wonderfully.
 
She was enchanted by the presents her
husband had given her for this evening – he’d had a gorgeous lavender and
lilac dress sent, with a beautiful pastel underskirt and a hat to match, as
well as a parasol and a fan, and shoes to match.
 
Kell
dressed her himself,
promising more clothing to come on a trip they would take shortly to the
city.
 
He wanted to take her there
and replace her entire wardrobe, such as it was – everything from the
inside out – new shoes, hose, boots, coats, hats, day dresses, evening
dresses . . . he even promised to have the couturier make her something to wear
while she was seeing patients – a smock or something to hold her tools
and potions.

He was so generous,
Aislinn
couldn’t believe it.
 
A trip and a new wardrobe!
 
Surely that meant that he felt something for her – a
Scotsman and his money were rarely parted without a very good reason.
 
Maybe he liked her, just a little bit.

Her other hint that he
might just feel something for her was that he had filled up her dance card
before she’d even put it on.
 
He’d
saved two dances – one for each of his brothers, but all of the others
were claimed by him.

Actually, they were each
somewhat obligated to dance with others, but he let her know in no uncertain
terms that he didn’t like that idea, and gave her up only reluctantly to the
other gentlemen, who were all sweethearts and took very good care of her.
 
He reclaimed her from them after every
dance, even if someone else was determined to take her away from him for the
next dance.
 
At one point, he
declared that she looked famished, and he sat her on his lap and fed her from
his own plate, which just wasn’t done in polite company.
 
Married couples could be cordial to
each other, but they did not indulge in public displays of affection.
 
But
Kell
didn’t seem to worry much about that particular convention.
 
He fed her and kissed her, then fed her
a little more and kissed her a little more . . .

Until Priscilla Douglas came
over to greet them, having arrived late as usual.
 
Kell
stood, putting his wife down
in the process, and making Priscilla laugh heartily behind her fan.
 
“Well, I had come over to beg a dance
from you, but I can see that you’re much more pleasantly occupied . . .”

Priscilla was an old
friend, and couldn’t be refused.
 
With an apologetic look back at
Aislinn
, he
allowed himself to be led onto the floor.
 
Apparently that broke the ice, and from then on he could barely come up
for air.

Aislinn
sat by herself for a while, nodding politely at anyone who met her eyes.
 
Suddenly, there was an occupant in the
chair beside her who wasn’t her husband, it was some woman she recognized as
having been introduced to during the wedding reception – Charlotte
something.

“Hello,
Aislinn
dear,” she greeted the younger woman as if they were the best of friends, when
she should have been addressing her as milady.

“Charlotte,”
Aislinn
said politely, wondering what the woman wanted.

“I was so surprised to get
the invitation to this ball.
 
Like
everyone else, I had heard that things weren’t going so well between you and
your husband . . . although I can’t say that I’m surprised.
 
Kell
is . . .
well, let’s just say that he’s not everyone’s kind of man.
 
I’ve heard, though, that if anyone
could handle him, it would be you . . .”

Aislinn
couldn’t believe the not so subtle attack she was facing in her own home!
 
She stood, her hand drawn back to slap
the woman silly.
 
But someone had
grabbed her wrist from behind, and it was
Kell
.
 
“Whoa there, lass.
 
Please try to restrain yourself from
beating up on our guests,” he hissed into her ear.
 

Leave him to take her side,
Aislinn
thought, livid with the both of them.
 
Regardless of how it looked to anyone
else, she took a step back from them and gathered her skirts, practically
running for the stairs.
 
She could
feel everyone’s eyes on her, but it didn’t matter to her in the least.
 
She ran right to their room and threw
herself on the bed.
 
If that was
what Charlotte thought, then she was sure that everyone else knew and thought
exactly the same thing – that she and
Kell
were
having problems, and that she was a loose woman.

Aislinn
was mortified.
 
She buried her head
in her pillow and sobbed as if someone was ripping her heart out.

Someone tapped her on the
shoulder and lifted her onto his lap.
 
Kell
.
 
“What’s the matter, lass?
 
What happened between you and Charlotte?”

Aislinn
could barely get the words out.
 
She was too embarrassed, and didn’t even want to repeat them to
him.
 
But he dragged it out of her,
and was looking none to happy at Charlotte himself.
 
Aislinn
expected him to continue
to pat her back and soothe her, then maybe let her go to sleep.

But instead, he stood her
up next to the bed and rearranged her clothing so that it looked less like
she’d slept in it.
 
“Come on, Mrs.
MacNaughton
, we’re going back down there.”

She tried to pull her hand
away from his, but he had too tight a hold of it.
 
“No, we’re not.
 
I don’t want to go back down there with people who think I’m a whore and
that I can’t keep you happy and that we’re having trouble and we’ve only been
married for less than a month . . . “
 
She started to sob again with the retelling of it.

Kell
shook her slightly, then looked into her eyes.
 
“You are not going to let them drive you away from your own
celebration party.
 
You’re
not.
 
You are made of much sterner
stuff.
 
They can think anything they
like, but when you ran away, you confirmed their thoughts.
 
It looks like we’re having problems if
you’re up in your bedroom crying.
 
So you’re going to come down with me, and we’re going to have a
wonderful time, and give them all something to puzzle over.”

Aislinn
looked down, fiddling with her lace handkerchief.
 
“Maybe you’d be happier with Charlotte,
Kell
,”
she whispered.
 
“I’m young and
inexperienced and – “

Before she could finish the
sentence, he had her bloomers around her ankles and her hips over his
knee.
 
It was a short spanking, but
he had her bucking and wiggling within a matter of about three slaps.
 
“I don’t want to hear anything like
that coming out of your mouth ever again, or I’ll take my
tawse
to you.”

Aislinn
didn’t know what a
tawse
was, but she was fairly sure
she didn’t want to find out – his hand was quite bad enough.
 
“Stop –
Kell
– please!”

“Do you understand
me?”
 
Nothing she was saying was
making him stop or even ease off the tremendous swats he was distributing all
over her poor bottom.

“
Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssssssss
!”
 
She was sobbing again, but this time it
wasn’t because of Charlotte.

Kell
gave her another ten very hard smacks, mostly at the very bottom of her bottom,
where butt met thigh for the first time.
 
She would be remembering this spanking vividly every time she sat down
for the rest of the evening.
 

When he’d finished, he set
her down on her feet and turned her to him, hugging her fiercely while she
continued to sob.
 
“Don’t you ever
let me hear you say anything like that again,
Aislinn
MacNaughton
.
 
You’re my wife, and I – I love you.”
 
He was a ruddy red when he said it, but he meant every
word.
 
“Everyone around here loves
you – the staff, my brothers, the villagers.
 
If I got rid of you they’d slit my throat in my sleep and
follow you without a thought.”
 
He
cupped her cheek.
 
“And I love you,
too.
 
How could I not, stubborn
wench that you are.”

Aislinn
was still crying, but this time because of what he’d said.
 
She couldn’t believe that he loved her,
and that he’d admitted it to her.
 
She was sorry that it had taken that hateful woman to drag it out of
him, but it was wonderful to know.
 
Shyly, she looked up at him.
 
“I love you, too, you stubborn, autocratic man.”
 
She reached back to rub her rear.
 
“And you have a hand like an oar!
 
I knew your head was solid wood, but
your hand???”

Kell
frowned at her, patting her bottom through her skirt, which made her jump away
from him.
 
“Come on, milady.
 
We need to rejoin the party and give
them all something to talk about for years to come.”

And they did.
 
The dance went on through the night,
and Lord and Lady
MacNaughton
were never out of each
other’s sight, and rarely out of each other’s arms.
 
It was quite the scandal.
 
It just wasn’t done.
 
They were so frightfully, obviously in love that the gossips of the day
simply simmered with indignation at the idea that the young couple didn’t seem
to have any propriety when they were together.
 
They sat next to each other at dinner – even though
they weren’t seated together, as a matter of course – she rarely occupied
a chair when they weren’t dancing, because she was sitting on his lap, sipping
wine from his goblet . . . he fed her from his plate and they kissed with
positively disgusting abandon.