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In spite of her mother’s words, Ilene felt wretched, as she knew full well what happened when two people lay together. Kissing and caressing were one thing, but the remembered pain of Aidan forcing himself into her was another, and so her wedding night was not something she was looking forward to.
And the stakes were so much higher than mere consummation and pleasing her new husband. Morag had also taken her aside, and she’d had much harsher words for her.
‘That man must think you are a virgin, so show discomfort when he does the deed, and you will have nothing to worry about,’ Morag had said, sternly.
Ilene thought she would have no trouble in doing that. He was so big and intimidating she would surely be crushed when they were abed.
‘If it is difficult, my dear, then pretend it is happening to someone else, take your mind away from it. Remember you are not of weak stock. You are of my blood, a MacLeod, and you’re a Campbell too, and you must draw on that strength.’
Ilene knew she had no choice now. She had to fool Murray, a man who had, no doubt, bedded many women, into thinking she was innocent so that he would never knowhe was not the first.
The wedding feast dragged on interminably while Ilene just wanted to get to the marriage chamber and get her wedding night over with. With no great desire to lie with a man again, she drank too much whisky in a need to deaden her dread and nervousness. Murray beamed proudly throughout the endless toasts to his good fortune. He was so proud of his new bride and, every time he glanced over, his face lit up, which shamed her more than she could bear. He hung onto her hand, constantly kissing it tenderly and squeezing it, but Ilene wanted to pull it from his grasp and run from the hall.
When it grew late and everyone was well into their cups, Murray rose and loudly proclaimed that the time had come for him to make good his marriage, and take his wife to bed, before he drank so much whisky that he was unable to do so. This was met with much hilarity and with that, he took her firmly by the hand leading her from the hall.
‘Courage now,’ thought Ilene, ‘it will all be over soon, one night and it will all be over, then you’ll have nothing to fear.’
***
When they got to their chamber, Murray closed the door with a firm thud and turned to Ilene. ‘Don’t worry wife, I did not drink too much whisky, I have a clear mind and I am wide awake.’
Ilene looked away from him, pale and silent in her lovely blue wedding dress, standing as close as she could to the fire. Murray thought of all the delicious ways he could put colour back in those cheeks.
He frowned and came over to her. ‘I was so proud when I saw you today at the altar. I have never seen anything so lovely in all my life. You have made me so happy Ilene.’
‘I am glad. It was a good day.’
‘A glorious day indeed, and a glorious night to follow I hope.’
She seemed to flinch at his words, clutching her arms around her. For a moment, Murray felt something dark pick at the edge of his happiness.
‘You are cold, let me build up the fire,’ he said, throwing some logs on so that it roared to life. He crossed to the bed to turn down the covers and took off his black plaid and jacket.
Ilene looked over at him as she slowly uncoiled her elaborately styled hair. ‘You looked very handsome today, in the Campbell colours,’ she said, with a catch in her voice, as she let it fall in a black cloud around her shoulders.
‘I am glad I did honour to my clan and to you,’ said Murray, almost struck dumb by how incredibly pretty she was.
He regarded Ilene with unbearable affection and some pity. She was obviously nervous, he could see her hands trembling. This was to be expected, though he would give her no reason to be afraid of lying with him. He was a man of the world and knew how to satisfy a woman. He’d never had any complaints as women he’d bedded always came back for more.
Could Ilene be so terrified of the marriage bed? She had been a willing and ardent partner when they had kissed. Murray had sensed a passion in her then. Now, he could hardly believe he was wed so such a perfect, lovely woman. She was so soft and delicate, he didn’t want to crush her and frighten her, so he resolved to go slowly, to be kind and tender.
This last week Duncan had kept them apart, perhaps in the hope that one of them would come to their senses. Not being able to see her and touch her had been a torment, so there was a slim chance of that on his part, but he did worry that Ilene might change her mind. But now, thank God, he was alone with her at last, and he meant to make her his, body and soul.
Murray had not really given their future life together much thought, focussing on getting what he wanted, with an icy resolve, as he always did. Now he realised that he had to consider her feelings and expectations as well as his own. He so wanted to please her now, and see that smile light up her face, especially now he could see that she was terribly nervous about lying with a man for the first time. In truth, he had little idea of what Ilene thought or felt and so, in some ways, he was taking a lovely stranger into his bed. All he knew was that he could not be without her and he must have her now.
She had her back to him and did not protest as he started to undress her, revealing his bride layer by layer, as first the bodice and then the skirt of her fine wedding dress ended up on the floor at her feet, like petals ripped from a flower. There was just her shift now, between him and her nakedness. Murray gathered her thick fall of dark hair in his hand and gently lay it to one side so that her long neck was exposed to him. He ran the back of his fingers slowly down it and placed a kiss there. Ilene smelled delicious, a warm intoxicating scent of roses and soft skin, hinting of endless pleasure. Her shoulders were smooth, white and gently rounded and though she was tall, he still stood a head and shoulders higher than her. Ilene’s delicacy excited him. He reached around, placing his hand on her belly, pulling her tight against him.
‘I can scarce believe you are mine now,’ he whispered, into her cloud of hair. ‘You are so beautiful and fine and now you belong to me. Don’t be frightened about what will happen tonight, for I will be gentle.’
He almost didn’t want to debauch her purity, part of him wanted to hold her, as she was in this moment, unchanging forever.
‘Murray, can we not talk awhile? I am nervous, I need you to take things slowly,’ she said in a small voice, eyes wide and fearful as she turned to face him.
‘Ilene, have I not just sworn to love, honour and protect you? You trust me don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘Then all will be well, I promise.’
