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“I . . . ,” Emma managed, “claim my innocence in this matter.”
“You can claim it—” Sara stood, “—but that certainly does not mean you’re right to do so.”
Neill smirked as the women made their way out of the chamber. Emma merely shrugged as she left the room.
“You’ll pardon my sister,” Neill said, holding Kathryn’s gaze. “Though I fear you’ll need to become accustomed to her. With Clave Castle so close to Kenshire—”
“She is a delight,” Kathryn said honestly. She forgot whatever she’d been about to say next and took in the sight of her husband.
Divested of his surcoat, he wore only a loose linen shirt, its sleeves rolled to reveal thick forearms accustomed to wielding a sword. Her gaze moved up to his face, his eyes flickering with desire, which was when she realized this was finally truly going to happen.
“Are you nervous?” He took a step toward her.
“Aye,” she admitted, wishing it were not so.
And then he did something unusual. Neill held out his hand. Confused, she took it. Then, without a word, he unclasped her robe, laid it on the bed, and led her from her chamber.
“Are we going to your bedchamber?” she asked.
“Our bedchamber is located on the northeast side of the castle, and I’d not walk you there dressed this way.”
He stopped, without warning, and kissed her hard. But he pulled back before she was ready, leaving her wanting much, much more.
“Then where?”
Neill didn’t answer, but he did take a wall torch as they made their way down the circular stairwell. It was only as they walked through darkened corridors and down another set of steps that Kathryn realized where they were heading.
At this time of night?
When they exited the Sea Gate, Neill took off his leather shoes. Kathryn did the same. Wordlessly, he led her toward the water, which she could hear but not see. Everything in front of them was black with only the faintest glimmer coming from the moon.
Just like she had the first time, Kathryn twirled about as she reached the point where the saw grass around them became nothing but sand. The sight before her was spectacular. This time, instead of the castle, dots of lights along the wall-walks and atop each tower broke though the black night.
“Beautiful, is it not?”
“Aye,” she said as he tugged her hand once more.
And then she noticed it.
A blanket spread out on the sand, and as they moved closer, Kathryn spotted a wooden slat with pieces of bread and cheese on it, along with a pitcher and two goblets.
“This is . . .” She had no words.
“Our wedding night,” he finished for her.
* * *
She was much more relaxed now.
Kathryn had not drunk much at dinner, and he’d seen her nibble a bite or two of meat and a small bite of almond cake. Now that they were alone, he’d lulled her into a discussion that would keep her mind free of worry. She’d eaten a few bites of bread and cheese, drunk two goblets full of red wine, and finally forgotten that she wore nothing but her shift.
At first, she’d worried they would be seen by the guards, but Neill had assured her the men atop the wall could see nothing but the light from the torch he’d stuck in the sand.
His wife looked out into the darkness, and though he couldn’t see her face, he had memorized every feature and could easily imagine it. If she but turned her head, their lips would be close to touching.
“Go on,” he said as she told a story of her childhood at court.
He lifted the mass of waves over her shoulder and pulled the string he’d been looking at for the past hour. The one that loosened the top of her shift. He was able to pull it off her shoulder, exposing the bare skin to his touch.
