I stood near the door, making no move to enter into his private space, but I couldn’t help looking now at the soft, warm expanse of his large bed. I realized my own exhaustion, after many nights of broken sleep. When I looked again at Kade, he was watching me, noticing the direction of my gaze.
“Take off your gown and get into bed,” he said. “I’ll make sure the chambers are warm enough.”
As mortifying as this suggestion seemed, I had known to expect it, and more. At least he wasn’t tearingthe clothing from my body, or making any move whatsoever to approach me. And I was glad for his offer to heat the room. It was a kindness he wasn’t obliged to extend. That he was taking measures to see that I was comfortable was...well, unexpected.
His back was turned to me. I removed my gown quickly, leaving my shift on, and climbed under the many layers of furs. His bed was plush and snug.
I watched him as he fed the fire, and I waited. I thought of the first time I’d seen him, only weeks ago, and that first flush he’d inspired. And I could acknowledge that my alarm, as I lay here in his bed and watched the play of the firelight paint his face and his hair, was laced with a subtle curiosity. Whatever criticisms I held for Kade Mackenzie—of which there were plenty—I could allow that he was lean and perfectly proportioned, as though sculpted by nature with particular care.
He stood and walked to the far side of the bed. He began to unfasten the last of his holsters.
I closed my eyes.
“It would be in the best interest of everyone involved,” he said, “if you would keep our marriage bed activities—or lack thereof—to yourself.”
I dared to steal a glance at him, and his riveted contemplation caused a tiny lurch in my stomach. If I had hoped wedding vows might soften my own anxious reaction to him, I’d been sorely mistaken. Yet as my eyes met his, I was momentarily dazzled by the depth of some unfathomable whirl of emotion in him. I had first thought his eyes cold in their crystalline clarity, but theywere far from impassive now. His face, framed as it was by the thick, lustrous locks of his dark hair streaked by fiery glints of auburn, showed what might have been a ripple of empathetic concern, brief and disarming. But then it was gone, leaving me feeling inexplicably bereft.
As though unsure whether I had understood his suggestion, he said more forcefully, “I forbid you to discuss what goes on behind our private doors with anyone.”
“You don’t need to command me,” I said. “You only need to ask me. I have no intention of discussing anything, now or ever.”
“Good. Because I’ll not have you defying me.”
Brute!So immersed in the angst and upheaval of my quick marriage to Kade Mackenzie, I had not had the time to consider my new status as the laird-in-waiting’s wife. If I had, I might have, in different circumstances (or with a different husband attached to it), been pleased with the title. I’d spent a lifetime under the thumb of my father. Every detail of my life, every activity, relationship, task and outing, had been dictated and contained by my father’s enforced decisions. Now, as impending lady of the clan, I might have had an opportunity to free myself of such dictatorial constraints. But clearly, I would be as bound and limited by my new husband as I had ever been by my father. Anger and frustration colored my words. “I wasn’t defying you. I said I would do as you asked.”
“What goes on in our chambers is between you and me, and is not privy to the intelligence of others. Are we agreed?”
“Aye,” I replied indignantly. I was used to being punished, and to hiding the evidence. Was this what my new husband had planned for me? Would he beat me into submission and order me to conceal his secret brutality?
“Are you wearing any underclothing under your shift?” he asked.
I froze instantly at the question, but I met his unrelenting stare with an approximation of the same. The moment was upon me, when my husband would use my body as he pleased. The inevitable consummation of this loveless marriage was about to commence. Would he bind me to the bedposts? Beat me?It took her several days to recover.My heart thumped frantically in my chest, but, in fact, I felt almost relieved. At this point, I almost wanted him to do what he would do, to get it over and done with.
“Aye,” I said, and my voice had a fearful, breathless quality to it I took care to overcome.
“Take them off.”
I suppose I should have expected a harsh, overbearing approach. My husband was a loutish devil, I had known this about him all along. If I had ever harbored secret hopes that he might be a skilled, thoughtful, tender lover, I laid them decisively to rest now, and not without anger. Insolently, and perhaps overly dramatically, I did as he asked. I sat up and removed the thin cotton garment I wore under my shift and flung it to the edge of the bed. Even so, my legs returned to their clasped-together state and I pulled the furs even farther over my body. If he would force me, at least I hada few remaining barriers to comfort myself with. For a few moments longer.
Watching my eyes, Kade reached to draw the furs from where they lay, slowly exposing my lightly clad body and bare legs to the cool air. I could read no emotion in his expression now and I wondered if I had imagined the brief flicker of compassion. Distant: that’s what he was, as I had suspected all along. A hint of lightness clung to his words. “I remember. I’m to expect insolence. We established that at the start.”
It had been our very first conversation.
“And I assured you then,” he continued, “that I might be able to persuade you to comply with my requests, as unreasonable as they may seem.”
“Which requests?” I asked.
“Open your legs,” he said.
I hesitated, defenseless in the face of his promised strength.
“Do it.” The quiet command riled me, and I decided then and there that anger might be more productive than fear. The man certainly lacked any hint of a bedside manner. Why couldn’t I at least have acquired a husband who wasn’t such a complete and utter bully?
“Nay,” I dared to whisper to him.
He wasn’t at all fazed by my impudence. Patiently, he said, “Do it now or I’ll do it for you.”
I clung desperately to my fury, but it was losing ground against the apprehension that seemed to dominate all my interaction with this belligerent, perplexing beast of a man.
