The maid huffed. “I brought up a tray of cold supper for ye and the Laird, in case ye get hungry, seein’ as ye didnae go downfor supper. ‘’Tis on the table over there. There’s wine and ale as well.”
Olivia curbed her laughter, not wishing to upset her friend. “Thank ye, that’s very thoughtful of ye, Meg. I’m grateful.”
She was indeed, because, with her anxiety almost at fever pitch, food was the last thing on her mind.
Megan’s grin reassured her that she was not offended. “Well, the hot water for yer bath will be here soon. I’ll fetch the tub.”
After she had bathed, Megan helped Olivia change into the white, lace-trimmed nightdress and matching robe that she had brought with her a year ago as part of her wedding trousseau. For obvious reasons, she had never had occasion to wear it, but she had planned to wear it on her wedding night, hoping to please her new husband.
“Och, ye look stunnin’, Me Lady!” Megan gushed, smoothing the flimsy silk over Olivia’s hips and then admiring her handiwork in the full-length mirror. “If that doesnae have the Laird’s eyes poppin’ out of his head, then I dinnae ken what will.” She gave Olivia a cheeky wink.
Olivia looked at her reflection, having second thoughts about the ensemble. “Aye, it is pretty,” she admitted, wondering if it was wise to provoke Edan’s lust by wearing such a provocative outfit.
He could rip the flimsy garments off her with one finger if he so wished.
Is that what I want?Nay! I shall scream and try to run.
Then again, the idea of a slow, gentle seduction was equally as alarming.
Glancing in the mirror, she was shocked to see how frightened she looked. At last, overwhelmed by her fears, she decided to confide them to Megan, hoping it might help.
“This will be the first time I’ll be sharin’ me bed with me husband, and the marriage will finally be consummated. But, Megan, Edan is naught but a stranger to me. How on earth am I goin’ to go through with it?” she asked anxiously.
Megan gave her a sympathetic smile. “Me Lady, ’tis understandable that ye’re nervous. Why, any lass is nervous about her first time, so I’m told. I wish I could make ye feel better about tonight. ’Tis a real shame that ye and the Laird havenae been able to spend time together beforehand.
“It would be wonderful if he had the time to court ye, to be sure. But as that’s nae the case, maybe if ye try to think of tonight as the start of ye finally gettin’ to ken each other properly as husband and wife, ye might feel a wee bit better.”
Her words, though kindly meant, gave Olivia not the slightest bit of comfort.
When Megan had left, Olivia sat by the fire with a book in her hands. She meant to read to try to distract herself from her growing fears. But every time she tried, the words on the page danced before her eyes. Eventually, she sighed in defeat and let the book fall to her lap.
When the door finally opened, she almost jumped out of her skin. Edan stepped into the room, his arrival propelling her to her feet. They stood for a few moments looking at each other, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room, although the repetitive thump of her racing heart sounded loudly in her head.
Edan did not speak, but a half-smile suggesting his appreciation appeared on his lips as he slowly looked her up and down. Olivia could only remain rooted to the spot, blushing scarlet to her roots, feeling as if she were naked.
She half expected him to lay hold of her immediately and ravish her, so it felt like a respite when he merely came over to join her by the hearth and sank into the wingback leather chair opposite hers. Hardly knowing what to do with herself, Olivia remained standing, twisting her fingers nervously at her waist, desperately searching her mind for a way to get out of what she was sure was coming.
Finally, noticing how weary he looked, she mustered her courage and summoned a smile. Meeting his eyes, she said, “After a year away fightin’ a war, ye must be very tired. We dinnae have to do this tonight, ye ken. We’ve waited a year already. It willnae matter if we put it off a while longer.”
Edan’s half-smile vanished abruptly. Olivia quaked, watching his expression harden as he studied her silently—the cold mask she was rapidly becoming familiar with.
After a moment, he asked, “Would ye rather have yerbetrothedhere tonight instead of me, then?”
There was no real heat in his voice, but the mention of Nurkirk as her betrothed irked her.
She looked at Edan haughtily, determined to strike back. “Perhaps I would.”
At her sharp retort, Edan’s already impenetrable gaze seemed to darken further. His lips pursed, he leaned forward in his seat and said in a low, harsh voice, “I’m yer husband. I warn ye now, dinnae ever challenge me like that again, or I’ll nae be responsible for what happens.”
But Olivia, already angry, found his threat even more vexing, and she could not hold her tongue.
“But ye’re nae me husband, are ye?” she snapped, heedless of the way his dark eyebrows drew sharply together and his jaw tightened. “Nae in the true sense anyway. Ye havenae claimed me maidenhood yet!”
Silence fell between them, heavy with tension. Edan’s expressionless mask did not waver as his eyes bored into hers.But she stubbornly held her head high, determined not to cower, however much he threatened her.
It took her by surprise when he suddenly waved her over to him. “Come and stand over here, in front of me.”
There was no doubt it was a command, but his voice was softer than before.
