Page 106 of The Refuge

Her cheeks flushed. “I, too, have dreamed of this night, though ’twas all shrouded in mist. I knew not what to expect. The queen had a few words with the three of us yesterday and that helped calm my fears.”

He drew her close and nibbled at her ear. “Would you like some wine?”

“A sip, mayhap,” she said, stepping back.

He poured her some wine and handed her the goblet. As she reached for it her eyes fixed on the gold band on her finger.

“The ring is a sign to all you are mine,” he said. Indeed, Catrìona was finally his. But why is this so different? “’Tis love,” his mind silently whispered. It would be the joining of two souls, not just two bodies.

He took her goblet and set it aside and pressed his lips to the back of her hand, then pulled her into his arms and brushed his lips over hers. They were soft and warm and tasted of wine. “Let me show you the joys of love.” He intended to take his time, winning her trust, stroking her like a wary falcon.

“Steinar,” she said, looking into his eyes.

“Aye?”

“You are mine, are you not?”

“Aye, lass, only yours and forever.”

Behind him was England and a past he could not, did not, want to bring back. No longer an exile, God had given him a new home in the place of his refuge. He belonged to Catrìona and she to him. And both of them belonged to Scotland.

* * *

Sunlight filtering through the shutters awakened Steinar the next morning. Next to him, curled into his side, lay his sleeping bride, her auburn hair spread across the pillow like strands of dark fire. He gently placed a kiss on her forehead and carefully slipped from the bed so as not to wake her. She would need her rest.

He washed, donned his hosen and sat at the table nibbling on chunks of cheese, basking in his good fortune. He had a wife he loved, lands of his own where he would build them a home and a noble king to serve. Aye, there was much to be thankful for.

“Steinar?” she murmured from the bed.

“Aye, love, just here.”

Rising up on one elbow, tousled from sleep, she grinned.

“Happy are you?” he asked.

“Aye,” she said, “truly.”

Her auburn hair fell around her pale shoulders, the cover slipping to reveal more of her ivory skin. It was all he could do not to leap at her. “Do you wish me to return to our bed or are you hungry for more than me?”

She laughed. “Conceited rogue. Might you bring the food here so that we can dine on it and each other?”

“Ho! My bride learns fast.” Picking up the trencher, he reached the edge of the bed in two long strides, his leg bothering him not at all.

He kissed her forehead and fed her the cherries one by one, then licked the juice from her lips. He was just about to crawl in with her when a knock sounded on their door.

* * *

“Mistress?” Catrìona recognized the voice as her handmaiden.

“’Tis Deidre,” she said to Steinar. “What is it?” she said to the door.

Through the oak planks, her handmaiden spoke. “I would not disturb you, milady, but I thought you would want to know that last night the queen had her babe. ’Twas early… a son! The king is ever so pleased. The babe is to be named Edmund and the queen asks you and the other two ladies to stay for the christening.”

At Steinar’s nod, she said, “Aye, we will.”

Hearing Deidre’s footsteps retreating down the corridor, Catrìona lay back on the pillows and looked up at her new husband, who was smiling at her as he rose up on one elbow, his golden locks loose about his muscled shoulders. His blue thistle eyes twinkled and his face bore a pleased expression. “Should we leave our chamber to congratulate the king and queen and pay tribute to their new son?”

“Aye,” she said, “’tis best. We have played the slug-a-beds long enough.”