The Wedding (31 page)

“It's a new beginning,” she explained in a whisper.

He continued to resist, although in truth he had stopped paying attention to what she was saying. He wanted only to benefit from his wife's arousing methods of trying to sway him.

She wasn't being at all subtle, which of course was exactly why he was enjoying himself, and as she began to tug on his lower lip to get a reaction, he knew he would soon let her win. He pulled her into his arms, pressed her body against his, and slowly shook his head at her.

“No, we can't start over.”

Her eyes sparkled with devilment. “Ah, Connor, we already have.”

The kiss she gave him then was altogether different from the one before. Her kiss wasn't playful now, but demanding, and the second she opened her mouth for him and began to tease him with her tongue, he took absolute possession.

He might have laughed, he couldn't remember, for this was the first time Brenna had consciously set out to tempt him. She still didn't understand the physical power she had over him, and he hoped to God she never did. She was simply tempting him to take what he would now, and in her innocent flirtation, she was actually showing him the extent of her affection for him.

He heard her low moan of pleasure, felt her tighten her hold around his neck, and was arrogantly satisfied to know that while he was completely in control of his emotions, his wife soon would not be of hers. Brenna was honest and forthright in everything she did, and in a world filled with deceit, where what wasn't said was often far more important than what was, he found himself drawn to Brenna's simplistic view.

Connor didn't consciously let himself get caught up in the moment, yet that was what happened all the same. Passion was suddenly burning inside of him, and one kiss no longer satisfied him. He wanted it all.

Just as he was making up his mind to take her upstairs and bed her, she abruptly ended the kiss by turning her face away. Her voice was a ragged whisper against his ear as she explained. “We aren't alone.”

“No one would dare intrude without gaining permission,” he told her as he tried to kiss her again.

“Someone's watching us, Connor. Please let go of me.”

He did as she asked and then turned to confront the intruder.

Euphemia was standing on the landing above the steps leading to the bedrooms. Connor's expression changed in the blink of an eye. He smiled with true joy, and Brenna found herself smiling in reaction.

“It's good to see you again, Euphemia,” he called out, his great affection for the woman apparent in his voice.

Brenna's knees almost buckled. She couldn't believe what she had just heard. Euphemia couldn't be here. She was due to arrive tomorrow, not today, but she was here now, and had just observed her stepson's disgustingly undisciplined wife throwing herself at him.

Brenna considered kicking her husband because he hadn't bothered to tell her Euphemia had arrived, but didn't give in to the urge because she wanted the woman to like her, not despise her.

First impressions were often wrong. Brenna tried to keep that fact in mind as she stared up at Connor's stepmother. Euphemia appeared to be as old as the pines. She reminded Brenna of a crow, as she was dressed in black and seemed to be perched on the top step, with her shoulders hunched forward and her gaze intent, penetrating, almost piercing as she watched Connor walk toward her.

Brenna was instinctively wary of the woman, but before she could berate herself for being frightened and having such uncharitable thoughts about the elderly woman's appearance, she witnessed a startling transformation overtake Euphemia. The woman suddenly straightened up to her full height, which surely made her nearly as tall as Connor. She threw her shoulders back and glided down the steps with the grace and elegance one would expect from a queen. The smile she gave Connor softened the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and no one would have noticed then the maze of deep creases mapping her face. Brenna was captivated by the sincerity she saw in Euphemia's eyes.

The change in her stunned Brenna. Euphemia was still old, of course, but she wasn't any older than Brenna's own dear mother. Grieving had obviously left its cruel marks on the woman, seemingly aging her far beyond her actual years, and, oh, how she must have loved Connor's father to have been so devastated by his death. Both the gray hair and the wrinkles carved in her face gave testimony to the pain the poor woman had endured.

Brenna's heart went out to her. She wanted to help ease her sorrow in any way that she could. Connor called Brenna's name then and she hurried forward. As soon as he finished introducing her, she bowed low to Euphemia and said how pleased she was to meet her. Euphemia's smile was somewhat guarded, Brenna noticed, but Connor's wife still felt she had been found acceptable.

“The pleasure is mine,” Euphemia said, surprising Brenna once again, because her voice was that of a young woman, and now that Brenna looked closely at her, she realized his stepmother had once been a very beautiful woman. She wasn't beautiful now.

“You are the reason I finally came back,” Euphemia continued. “For I was quite eager to meet the woman who had at last captured Connor. I have been plaguing him for years to take a wife.”

She turned to Connor once again. “Now I must work on getting Raen to marry. He's been even more resistant to the idea than you were. I fear he'll be an old man before he takes a bride.”

Brenna stood by her husband's side, listening as the two of them discussed Raen's health and happiness. Connor wanted to find out who Raen was currently serving because he had heard he was no longer under Laird Ferson's command, but Euphemia skirted the issue by suggesting he speak to her son about such matters.

“Has Raen arrived yet?” Brenna asked.

“No,” Euphemia answered. “My son will join me tomorrow.”

Connor suggested they sit at the table and continue their conversation. Brenna followed behind her husband, smiling over the way Euphemia put her hand on Connor's arm and smiled so lovingly at him.

Euphemia continued to talk about Raen for several more minutes, and then she looked at Brenna, obviously waiting for her to say something. She blurted out the first thing that came into her head. “I'm eager to meet such a perfect man.”

She realized she sounded derisive and was horrified. “You sound like my mother, Lady Euphemia. She also believes her sons are wonderful. She's right, of course, just as you are.”

Euphemia nodded. “I am eager to see Raen,” she said. “It's been over six months since he last visited me. He's terribly busy, and I diligently try not to meddle in his affairs.”

“Was the journey difficult for you, madam?” Connor asked.

“I cannot lie and tell you it was easy,” she replied. “Yet it was no worse than what I anticipated,” she added, her gaze directed at Brenna now.

She thought it was sweet that Euphemia was thoughtfully including her. “How long have you been away?” she asked.

“Sixteen years, three months,” she answered. “Some mornings it seems as though my Donald passed away just the day before, so overcome am I with sorrow.”

Connor nodded with understanding. He noticed the tears in Euphemia's eyes and gently turned the conversation to lighter matters.

Brenna was happy to sit by her husband's side and listen. One topic led to another and another, and before Brenna realized it, a good hour had passed.

She would have been happy to sit there the rest of the night, because the look of peace on her husband's face was a worthy reward. She had never seen him this relaxed or content. He obviously loved this woman, certainly honored her, and had missed her terribly.

Her thoughts turned to her own dear mother then, and as she pictured their reunion one day in the future, tears sprang into her eyes. To stop herself from becoming melancholy, she quit thinking about her family and considered instead what she would like to eat for supper.

Euphemia pulled her back to the conversation at hand by calling her name.

“I beg your indulgence, but the journey here has left me weary. I'm not as young as I used to be, and even short rides tire me. I would like to retire for the night, if you will allow me to, and would appreciate a tray of light fare sent up to me.”

Connor immediately stood up to assist his stepmother.

“May I help you get settled, Lady MacAlister?” Brenna asked.

“One of Connor's servants has already seen to the duty, child.”

Brenna bowed to her and bid her good night. Connor suggested she wait in the hall for him until he returned from escorting Euphemia to her room. Brenna understood Connor's need to have a private moment with his stepmother and didn't mind at all that she had been excluded.

He was gone a long while. By the time he returned to the hall, her stomach was growling for food and she was so sleepy, she could barely hold her head up.

Her husband's manner was brisk now, and she noticed that though he'd had no difficulty whatsoever lingering during his reunion with his stepmother, he couldn't show his wife half as much consideration.

“There are four chambers upstairs, Brenna. The kitchens are in a separate building behind the hall, should you ever feel the need to go there.”

He clasped hold of her hand and led her up the staircase. She was thankful the steps weren't nearly as steep as the ones leading up from the soldiers' quarters.

“Why is there a banister here and not below? Was there a reason for not building one?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Are you really hungry?”

“I could eat a little something. I'm still waiting for you to tell me why there isn't a railing.”

“It's easier to push soldiers down, that's why.”

She thought he was jesting. When he didn't smile, she changed her mind. “That's rather impolite, isn't it?”

He didn't understand she was teasing him and apparently didn't feel her question merited an answer.

When they reached the landing, he motioned to the dark hallway behind her. “There are three chambers there. Our bedroom is on the other side of the landing, straight ahead of you.”

She didn't move fast enough to suit him. He pulled her along and stopped only after they'd entered the chamber. The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding thud. It was completely dark inside. Connor crossed the chamber and pulled back the covering over the window to let the light come in.

Brenna let out a sigh of relief because the room wasn't nearly as bad as she thought it would be. There was a nicesized hearth at one end of the chamber and a bed at the opposite end. Two low chests flanked the sides, with several candles on top of each. Other than a few hooks placed high up on the wall beside the door, there wasn't anything more to be noticed.

She hurried over to the window to see the view and immediately wished she hadn't bothered. Straight ahead was the courtyard and then the ruins, a gloomy picture to be sure, and since she didn't want to dwell on the past now, she went to the bed to find out if it was lumpy or soft.

“It's a very nice bed,” she remarked. “And so is the room. You live like a peasant, don't you, Connor, without any unnecessary luxuries?”

“Does that bother you?”

“No,” she answered. “May I have a bath?”

“Tomorrow I'll take you to the lake.”

“Tonight, if you please?”

He relented. “I'll have a bath prepared. You'll have to wait while the water is heated in the kitchens and carried up.”

She shook her head. “I would not put your staff to such trouble. I could bathe in the kitchens, couldn't I?”

He wasn't surprised by her thoughtfulness because he'd already noticed she put the concerns of others before her own, no matter how much she was inconvenienced. Or injured, he thought to add, for she had put Grace's safety above her own.

“Yes, you may bathe in the kitchens.”

“May I also eat there?”

“If you wish.”

He opened the door to leave, but hesitated at the threshold, frowning as he noticed once again the dark shadows under her eyes. In the soft light they seemed more pronounced. He felt responsible for her exhaustion because he'd pushed her too hard, and while he regretted putting her through such a difficult ordeal, there really hadn't been any other choice. MacNare and his soldiers had been gaining on them, and getting her to safety far outweighed her need for sleep.

“I want you to rest.”

“Will you rest beside me?”

“Yes.”

“Now that Euphemia is here, are you still intent on leaving tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she liked me?”

“Of course she liked you. You shouldn't need my reassurance.”

“Will she stay with us a long while?”

“I hope so,” he answered on his way out the door. “I haven't asked.”

“Connor?”

“Yes?”

“Please don't forget to send one of your men to find Gilly.”

“I won't forget. Any other questions?”

Neither his gruff attitude nor his frown deterred her. She hurried over to the doorway, leaned up on her tiptoes, and kissed him. She was very thorough. Connor put his arm around her waist, hauled her up against him, and kissed her a second time, far more passionately than he'd intended to and not nearly as long as he wanted. She ended the kiss by pulling away from him. She saw the bewilderment in his eyes, turned around so he wouldn't see her smile, and then thought to tell him he could now take his leave.

He was halfway down the stairs before he realized he'd been dismissed.