Page 38 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

Time seemed to pass slower than frozen treacle, and he found himself thinking of other things. Thinking of Niamh. She was afraid to sleep with him – afraid of the inevitable consequences – and he respected that. But there was more than one way for a man to pleasure a woman, and receive pleasure in turn. Would she welcome such advances, or such instruction in the ways of the bedchamber, or was all such touch a terror to her?

He didn’t think she was completely unwelcoming of physical affection. She’d responded to his kisses readily enough, and the night they’d shared a bed at the inn, she hadn’t shrunk away from him. The trick, then, would be coaxing her to permit him to go further, without making her fear that he was attempting to abuse her already fragile trust.

For a moment, he indulged himself in a fantasy of Niamh, laying before him in his bed, her face flushed with desire and her eyes soft with trust and affection. Then he shook the thought away.

This is meant tae be a marriage o’ convenience and necessity. Naething more. I cannae risk indulging such thoughts, nae if I want tae spare both o’ us the curse.

The scuffing of shoes on stone brought his attention back to the kitchen, just as a serving maid came hurrying in and spoke to the cook. He didn’t hear the exact words the woman spoke, but the cook nodded. “If ‘tis what me lady desires, then so be it. Fetch me some water from the well and a cloth bag fer the sachet. I’ll go tae retrieve the herbs she requested.”

The maid nodded and left. Alistair watched, scarcely daring to breathe as the cook gathered up a small basket and a pair of shears, then stomped out into the night.

Alistair darted from his hiding place as soon as the door shut. A quick examination of the pig showed it was soft-fleshed enough that getting blood from it would be no difficulty. He started to pierce a large blood vessel in the abdomen, where it wouldn’t be easily seen and grabbed a small milking pail and opened the vein. He filled the bucket to a little less than halfway, then blocked the incision and hastened out of sight.

He made it just in time. He’d barely concealed himself before the door opened and the cook came trundling in, his basket full of herbs that filled the air with their scent.

Alistair waited until the man was bent over the hearth, separating out the herbs for Niamh’s sachet, then carefully crept from his hiding space and into the shadows of the hall. Luck was with him again and he escaped into the shadows just as the serving maid came back with the requested water for the tea and the cloth bag.

The bucket was awkward in his hand, and Alistair scowled at it. Sneaking back through the hall was difficult enough without the added encumbrance, but what choice did he have?

Alistair sighed, shifted the bucket to get a better grip, then began to walk, saying a prayer as he did so that he wouldn’t encounter anyone on the way.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Niamh nearly jumped out of her nightdress when the door finally opened to reveal Alistair, a bucket in hand and a scowl on his face. She followed him as he shut the door behind him, then stalked across to enter the bedroom and set the bucket near the fire. “What is that?”

Alistair grunted as he twisted his wrist, which seemed to be stiff. “’Tis the blood we need.”

Niamh stared at it. “So much?”

“I thought it better tae have too much than too little.” In the light of the fire, Niamh could see the low flush on his cheeks. “I didnae have enough time tae do more than bleed the carcass and run, and I was near caught as it was.”

“But ye werenae.” Niamh moved close to him, close enough to feel the heat emanating from his lean frame.

A knock sounded on the door before Alistair could reply, and Niamh hurried to answer it and take the tray from the maid. The scents of rosemary, sage and chamomile filled her nostrils, and she breathed them in appreciatively before returning to where Alistair waited. “Now what dae we dae?”

Alistair frowned. “We’ve blood fer the sheets, and tea tae aid in sleepin’, so I suppose I’ll need tae find a place tae rest.”

Niamh gestured to the bed. “There’s a place right here. And…” She blushed. “’Tis yer bed anyway. I wouldnae tak’ it from ye.”

Alistair’s brow furrowed. “But ye didnae want tae sleep with me.”

“I dinnae wish fer…” She could feel the flush rising on her face, and hurried to speak. “I dinnae wish tae consummate the marriage, aye, but we’ve slept taegether afore. I ken ye’ll be a gentleman if we share a bed.”

Alistair stood quietly for a moment, and his voice was low with some emotion she couldn’t quite name when he spoke. “Ye’d trust me so much?”

“Aye.” Niamh swallowed. “I’ll nae deny I still... I still dinnae trust ye fully, but in this at least, ye’ve shown yerself fair considerate. It feels like I’m doin’ ye a disservice tae doubt yer intentions on that score. Besides… we’re married now, and...”

She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him once more, then laid a hand on his arm. “I dinnae want tae be alone.”

Alistair’s expression visibly softened. “Then I’ll nae leave ye.”

He turned to look at the bucket. “Unless ye object, I think it best tae leave the bucket as it is. So long as ‘tis nae fully congealed in the morn, ‘twill serve its purpose. In the meantime, I dinnae fancy sleepin’ on bloody sheets if I dinnae have tae.”

Niamh exhaled in relief. “I was thinkin’ the same. But...will it be dry in time for yer council meeting, if we wait till morning?”

“Fer a small amount aye, if we give it a candle-mark or so.” He moved the bucket a little closer to the fire, then put a cover over it to disguise the purpose of it. That done, he began to undress.

Niamh gasped, then turned away, her cheeks burning. Married they might be, but she wasn’t ready to see her new husband in that state. She was glad that she’d changed into her night clothes earlier. She’d done it to make her request seem more believable, but now all she could think of was how embarrassed she would be, if Alistair saw her unclothed.