Page 52 of Anice’s Bargain

All it took was regarding Drake, who rode irritatingly close to Anice, to quell James’s rising desire. The warrior sat straight and perfect in his saddle, his handsome face serious with his task of protection. The cur.

Of all the warriors in Werrick, of course it was Drake who had come.

Laird Graham edged his horse closer to James. “I see the bonny man came too, eh?”

James grunted.

“Ye watch yerself with such a fine wife, lad. Ye’re no’ as pretty as that man.” His father gave a wheezing laugh. “That’s the thing about the loveliest ladies. They’re lusty. Eager to spread their legs for men to get what they want.”

“That is my wife,” James snarled in warning.

Laird Graham shrugged, nonplussed. “Mind her. Or he might do it for ye.” He nodded his grizzled head in Drake’s direction.

Were the old man not so frail, James would have been tempted to knock him hard enough to throw him from the horse. Damn the old goat for being so bloody weak.

James said nothing more to his father, but rode at a faster pace the aging laird could not match in his fragile condition.

The lingering warmth of James and Anice’s wedding night cooled, as had the heat in his groin. He would not be a cuckold. He would not be subjected to what he had with Morna. Not again.

He gritted his teeth as he entered the courtyard and forced his thoughts from Drake. Instead, he pushed them to the castle. His castle. Powerful, imposing, the walls strong with stone gone dark with the passing of time. The servants waited in an anxious line to greet their new master.

James jumped from his horse and strode toward Anice to help her dismount. Drake had the good sense to step back and let James have the honor.

Anice’s smile at his approach was small, barely a lift at either side of her lips, as though mayhap the ride had been difficult for her.

“Anice.” He spoke in a gentle tone and lifted his hand, indicating his intent to assist her from her horse.

She placed her icy hand in his and allowed him to aid her from her horse. He tenderly touched her cheek. “Are ye well, lass?”

She drew in a hard, pained breath and nodded resolutely. “Aye.”

He took her freezing hands between his and chafed them together several times to warm them, then offered his arm. She leaned heavier on him than ever before.

It struck him suddenly then, what she had given up that day for his dream. She had left her home and her family, her entire world upheaved. The marriage had bestowed James with great wealth and opportunity. But for Anice, the union had cost her everything.

He knew her to be strong, but in this moment, she seemed so very delicate that it pulled at his heart. This woman and what she did to him: a cockstand one moment, raging jealousy the next, and now intense tenderness and affection.

His wife might very well be the death of him.

A young man stepped forward. The lump in his skinny neck was overly pronounced and the legs jutting from the tunic were as thin as that of a stork. “Welcome to Caldrick Castle. I’m Engelbart, your steward.” The lad looked like a hearty wind could take him off.

James hesitated. This was the part of castle ownership he had been dreading. The pomp of the wealthy and how he might best behave in such situations as handling servants and the like.

“Thank you, Engelbart,” Anice said at his side. “We should like to meet the staff.”

James tossed her a grateful look, which she answered with a light squeeze at his forearm. The color had somewhat returned to her cheeks. A good sign to be sure.

“Of course.” Engelbart bowed from the waist and nearly bent in half.

The Englishman proceeded to recite a string of names James would have no hope of remembering at a later date. They were near the end when a sour-faced old man glared at them, drawing James’s attention from Engelbart.

The corners of the man’s mouth tucked down in an ugly sneer. “I won’t offer my fealty to you.”

Anger welled up like a flame within James, the quickly lit temper he’d struggled with for the better part of his life. It would be so easy to crush this man, both in body and spirit, to make an example of him. However, the lessons he learned from the Earl of Bastionbury entered James’s mind like a splash of cool water, dousing the flames of his rage.

“Why is that?” James asked.

The man’s head cocked back in surprise. “Well, you’re a Scot.”