Page 30 of The Baron’s Halo

“Necessary room?” She’d not heard of such a thing.

He grinned. “When the castle was built, they added two dressing rooms to the master’s chamber. When my mother came here, she decided it was the perfect place to put a close stool and do away with the chamber pot behind a screen. She said it gave one the dignity of privacy for one’s private moments. My father, who would do anything for her, moved his clothing into an adjacent room he also used as a study, and they were both very happy with the arrangement.”

Isabelle began to see why Sandy was so considerate toward her. He’d had the best of examples for a perfect marriage in his parents. Pray God, they could have the same.

“I’ll check on dinner and let you settle in, then we can eat and celebrate our marriage properly.”

Something about those final words sent a shiver down Isabelle’s spine, but she nodded and turned around. Once her bodice slackened, she started for the dressing room when his lips brushed the bare skin at the nape of her neck. The kiss was so unexpected, so…sensual, she almost cried out. And suddenly, apprehension replaced fatigue. Tonight was their wedding night and Isabelle knew what that must mean.

“I’ll be back shortly, sweetheart.” Sandy dropped another kiss on her neck, making her tremble, then left.

Isabelle hurried to the dressing room, lit a lamp—although it took her shaking hands three tries to light a match—and hastily readied herself for bed. She dug through the trunk and pulled out the only nightgown she had—an old-fashioned one from her grandmother with a high collar and long sleeves, scratchy lace at collar and cuffs. Well, the garment certainly wasn’t meant to arouse anyone. Perhaps her husband wouldn’t wish to pursue amorous congress at all after he saw her in that. With a sigh, Isabelle pulled it over her head and padded back out into the bedchamber.

Half the room was taken up with a huge four-poster bed with blue and gold damasked covers and curtains. It dwarfed everything else in the room, none of which she’d noted when they’d first entered it. She’d been too swept up in the moment with Sandy to pay attention to anything else.

Now, as she walked to the massive bed, she noted the chaise drawn up before the fireplace, the cherry secretary desk in the corner, and a small table and chairs before the drawn drapes over the window. She liked the stately room, with its excellent appointments. It was a trifle masculine, but if Sandy allowed it, she could add some feminine touches, like a toilette table.

He’d be back soon. Isabelle rubbed her hands against her arms, trying to subdue the chill that suddenly shook her. Where should she be when he returned? Either on the chaise before the fire or in the bed waiting were the obvious choices. Perhaps she should just go ahead and crawl into bed. She doubted she’d eat any dinner with the way her stomach was roiling anyway.

The enormous four-poster loomed even larger as she mounted the stepstool. The bed would easily accommodate at least four people. Of course, it would only need to sleep two tonight. Not that Isabelle expected sleep would be the primary concern.

Hastily she crawled beneath the covers, pulled them up to her chin, and awaited her bridegroom.

*

“Isabelle.”

Someone was shaking her shoulder, but she was so warm and cozy, she didn’t want to wake up.

“Isabelle, wake up, love.”

The unexpected endearment startled her enough to open her eyes. She was in the master bedchamber at Cridhe Laidir. And she was married to… “Sandy?”

“I’m here, love.”

She poked her head up. “I’m sorry I fell asleep but—”

And there he stood, barefoot before the fireplace, wearing only his shirt and breeches and sporting a wicked grin. “I’m almost through, my dear.”

Lord, never had she seen a man in such a state of undress. Her eyes widened as he pulled his braces down and tugged his shirt out of his pants so it fell almost to his knees. “Do you want any dinner? It’s there on the table. I’d be happy to serve you.”

She glanced at plates of chicken and vegetables and shook her head. Food was the last thing she wanted at the moment. “I’m not hungry.”

“I wasn’t either, although I did have some wine to fortify me. Would you like some?”

The idea of wine sounded good, but again she shook her head.

“Perhaps later, then.” With a practiced hand, he stripped his trousers off and tossed them onto the pile of clothes under the table. “There, that’s better.”

Isabelle wasn’t certain she agreed with that. His lack of clothing gave him almost an animal quality as he stalked toward the bed. His shirt flowing around him showed off his legs from knees to feet. She’d never seen a man’s legs before, though somehow, she hadn’t expected them to be hairy. Sandy’s were well-muscled, with a shapely calf, but definitely hairy. Was the rest of his body like that?

Her cheeks flamed as though she’d stepped into the mid-day sun. She’d find out soon enough, too, for her husband was almost upon her. To avoid seeing anything else, she stared straight ahead at a painting of a group of hunters cornering a stag.

Oh, but she wasn’t prepared for this at all. She needed more time to get used to the idea of sharing intimacies with Sandy, although all the time in the world might not help her with that. No, it would be all right. She had survived before, she could do so again.

“Would you like me to blow out the lamp?”

Isabelle jumped at the voice so close beside her. “Oh, yes, please blow it out.” She didn’t want to see anything at all if she could help it.