“I’ll no’ suffer ye to wait any longer. Take a platter when ye leave. I doubt we will see ye again this eve, and ye will need nourishment for this night.”
Then the Bruce, the Sinclair who sat next to him, and several other men roared at the king’s bawdy suggestion. James glared at the men, then took Tosia’s arm in his and lifted the closest wooden platter with the other.
He led Tosia from the hall and up the stairs toward his chambers.
Chapter Twelve: More Man than Monster
James slammed the doorshut with a kick of his booted foot as he swept Tosia into the room. Perspiration droplets rolled down her back under the tight bodice of her gown, and her insides shuddered against his touch.
So soon? Now?She was supposed to expose herself, give her body to this man she’d only met a sennight ago and whom she’d spoken to but thrice in that time?
What madness was this?
Truthfully, she didn’t know what to expect. Her mother had explained in a general sense what happens between a man and a woman, though Tosia hadn’t fully believed it. She’d heard gossip and rumors and jokes from the kitchen and scullery maids concerning the virility of men and the things they did under the covers.
Bathed in a heated blush, Tosia had quickly found other duties far from those giggling, wagging tongues.
But here, now? Perchance she should have listened more to those wagging tongues.
Instead of rushing her to the bed, James set her steadily on her feet and moved around the room, snuffing out a few of the candles and unwrapping his plaid from his shoulders to hang it on a peg near the hearth.
In the dim light, Tosia noted that her meager belongings had been brought to here from her tiny chamber and set on his trunk, ready to become part of the Black Douglas’s chambers. Tosia shivered again.
Once the room was set the way James desired, he turned to her. Tosia’s quivering stomach dropped, and a hot flush overwhelmed her. If it hadn’t been for the narrow oak table at her backside, she would have swooned to the floor.
His lustful eyes, icy, reminding her of pine treetops in midwinter, studied her, and Tosia felt a bit like a mouse under the predatory gaze of a lynx. She played with her fingers behind her back, wondering if there was something she was supposed to do or say. Or just let him look?
James tipped his head and rubbed his knuckles against his shaven chin. He did have a dimple there! A cleft normally hidden by his whiskers, its appearance only made his jaw seem more sharp, his face more lethal.
“We are wed, lass. But I find there to be an issue.”
She was suddenly dizzy, and her knees went weak. An issue with her? Did he regret wedding her? Was he now going to set her aside? The moisture in her mouth dried up, and she had no words in response. What could she possibly say?
“We’ve spoken together all of three times. Each of those times, I tried to convey that I will no’ bring ye harm, that ye are mine and I guard that which is mine. I’ve lost too much, aye?”
His eyes squinted at her. Tosia still had no voice, but she nodded slightly. Where was he going with this? ‘Twas not how she expected her wedding night to start.
