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Her bedroom door was open and servants were busily pouring in buckets of steaming water when Edith led the trio back to her room. She expected Cameron and Fearghas to wait in the hall, but they entered and stood on either side of her until the servants had finished and left. Only once she and Moibeal were all who remained did they nod and return to the hall, pulling the door closed behind them.
"Ye do no' really think yer husband's brother has been sleeping in yer father's room, do ye?" Moibeal asked as she helped her undress.
Edith sighed at the question, but didn't answer right away. The truth was, she didn't. She doubted very much if Rory would trouble himself to spread flowers on the floor to scent the rushes. However, she didn't want the castle to suddenly fill with tales of her father's ghost inhabiting his old room either. She didn't need maids afraid to clean the room once she and Niels moved to it. Especially when it wasn't true. It couldn't be. There was no such thing as ghosts, she told herself. Besides, her father really had hated lavender. It would be the last thing his ghost would scent the room with.
"M'lady."
"Hmm?" Edith glanced to Moibeal and sighed as she realized the girl was still waiting for her answer. Sighing, she stepped into the hot water, wincing at just how hot it was, and then eased to sit down. It was so hot it stole her breath for a moment, but once she'd adjusted, she sighed and said, "'Tis no' me father's ghost, Moibeal."
"Oh, I ken that," she said at once, a little too quickly. "But do ye really think 'tis Lord Rory?"
"I do no' ken," she said rather than admit she doubted that. Much as the girl denied it, Edith knew Moibeal was as superstitious as the next person. "I shall ask him later."
"Aye," the maid said and asked. "Shall I wash yer hair first?"
"Aye, please," Edith murmured.
Moibeal helped to wash her hair, then left her to her bath and quickly collected her discarded clothes.
Edith scrubbed herself up, and then relaxed in the water for a bit. The aches and stiffness were gone, and she was just considering getting out when the bedchamber door opened. Glancing over her shoulder, Edith smiled when she saw that it was Niels. Her smile widened when she saw the pitcher and two goblets he carried.
He smiled in return and then glanced to Moibeal and opened the door wider. The maid understood the silent request at once and hurried out of the room. Niels closed it silently behind her and then carried the pitcher and goblets to the bedside table and poured two glasses.
"I apologize fer taking so long," he said, setting down the pitcher and crossing the room to collect the large strip of linen Moibeal had left to warm over the chair by the fire. Opening it as he walked toward her, he said, "Rory wanted to speak to me."
"'Tis fine," Edith said, gathering her courage to stand up. She knew she shouldn't be so flustered at the thought of it. He was her husband. And she'd been as good as naked with him in the meadow. She also must have been when they consummated the wedding. However, she felt as shy in that moment as if he'd never even glimpsed a naked ankle, and they'd not even kissed.
Pausing next to the tub, Niels held the towel open for her and said, "Remind me to tell ye about it after."
"After what?" Edith asked, trying to distract herself as she stood quickly and stepped out of the tub and into the linen. Much to her relief, he closed it around her at once, but much to her surprise, he then picked her up and carried her back to the table and set her on the edge of it right in front of one of the chairs.
Eyeing him with confusion, she opened her mouth to ask him what he was doing, only to find his hands cupping her face as his mouth suddenly covered hers. Hands rising tentatively to his arms, Edith started out simply holding on as he kissed her. But she was quickly clutching at him and kissing him eagerly back.
When his hands slid away from her face and glided down to the top of the linen to unwrap it, Edith gasped. She then moaned into his mouth as his hands found and cupped her breasts so that he could toy with her nipples using a thumb and finger of each hand.
Edith reached for him then, not his plaid, or his shirt. Her hands went straight for the gold, one lifting his plaid so the other could find the hardness waiting beneath. The moment she did, Niels jerked in shock and then was suddenly gone.
Opening her eyes at once, Edith blinked at him as she saw that he'd dropped to sit on the chair and was urging it closer to the table. Her legs had been open with him standing between them, but she started to close them self-consciously now. She never finished the action. Niels caught each under the knee, tugged her closer so that she was half-off the table and had to lean back on her arms to keep from teetering off it. He then pulled her legs farther open and bent to bury his face between them.
Edith cried out at the first flick of his tongue across her eager flesh, but it was followed by many more such cries as he feasted on her. She tried to muffle the sounds she was making, first by covering her mouth with her hand, and then by biting on her middle finger too, but the sounds kept coming. Some were breathless cries, some were pleading gasps, some were almost screeches, but Edith was quite sure the men in the hall probably heard every last one. She was equally sure that everybody in the castle heard her final, delirious scream as her body exploded with pleasure to leave her a stunned, trembling mass lying limp on the tabletop with her head turned toward the fire.
Edith was aware of it when Niels stood and removed his tartan and shirt, but other than roll her eyes toward him to watch, she didn't seem to have the strength to move. When he then scooped her up, carried her to the large fur in front of the fire and knelt to lay her on it, she caught his arms and then his hands as Niels straightened to kneel beside her. She was trying to hold him to her. But she couldn't.
"Ye're a feast fer the eyes, wife," he murmured, simply sitting on his haunches looking at her. "Ye're hair looks afire and shadows are painting yer skin."
Her energy was slowly returning now, enough for her to start to feel embarrassed at just lying there with him looking at her, and Edith slid one hand up his leg, toward his groin. She never made contact. Niels immediately shifted to lie next to her on his side.
Bracing his head on his hand with his elbow on the furs, he smiled. "Recovering, are ye?"
Edith nodded, and touched his face gently.
"Would ye like more?" Niels asked, running one hand lightly along her thigh.
Breath catching in her throat, Edith hesitated, but when his hand stopped just before it would have found her, she gave a jerky nod.
"Aye," Niels breathed, letting his fingers glide up between the protective folds to touch her. He ran one finger gently over her and Edith closed her eyes and moaned.
"I love it when ye let me hear yer pleasure," he said softly, strumming his finger over her again and bringing about another one. "And I love how wet ye get fer me. As if yer body's weeping fer me to love ye."
"Aye," Edith groaned, her hips beginning to shift into his caress, and then she stilled as he pressed a finger into her. Her eyes flew open, and she peered at him. "Niels, please."
"Please what, love?" Niels asked, sliding his finger back out and then caressing her with his thumb as it slid back in. "Do ye like this?"
"Aye," she gasped, writhing under his touch.
"I do too. I like how yer body clings to me, it wants me in ye."
"Aye," Edith groaned.
"Do ye want me in ye, love?"
"Oh, God, aye!" she cried, thrusting violently up into his caresses now.
"Find yer pleasure fer me, love, and I'll take ye." This time he didn't give her a chance to reply, but leaned forward to claim her mouth with his and began thrusting his tongue into her in time with the finger below. The hand that had been holding up his head then dropped to caress and knead her breast at the same time and finally pinched her nipple. And that was when Edith began to shudder, her body quaking as she screamed into his mouth.
And suddenly Niels was on top of her. She didn't notice the shift until he was thrusting into her and she felt the difference. This wasn't his finger. This was much bigger. She felt the slightest pinch and then he was in, filling her and forcing her body to accommodate him. Edith cried out again and clutched at his shoulders, her hips still thrusting as her pleasure continued to pulse from her core, clinging and squeezing him.
Niels groaned through his teeth and thrust back repeatedly, and then he suddenly rose up, caught her legs by the ankles and drew them over his shoulders. Edith gaped up at him in surprise and then cried out when he reached down to where they were joined to continue to caress her; it prolonged her body's response as he rode the wave he'd caused. For Edith it seemed to go on forever and she was sure she couldn't take it, that her heart would stop or she'd simply die there underneath him, overwhelmed by so much sensation.
Just when she thought that, Niels stiffened above her, his body plunging so deep she cried out with it, and then she scored his back with her nails and screamed as her pleasure intensified and then shattered.
Edith woke to find it was daylight and she was lying with her head on Niels's chest as he lazily caressed her back. She lay still, simply enjoying it for a moment, and then let him know she was awake by blurting, "I felt a pinch when ye--" She paused abruptly, unwilling to put words to what they'd been doing.
Fortunately, Niels seemed to understand exactly when she'd felt the pinch without her saying so, because he hugged her briefly and said, "Sorry, wife. They do say the first time is painful for the lass."
"The first time?" Edith asked with surprise, lifting her head to peer at him. "But I thought--There was blood on the linen and . . ." Her voice trailed away to silence as he began to chuckle. Eyebrows rising, she asked, "What is so funny, my lord husband?"
"What ye thought was blood on the linens was the preserves, lass," he explained with amusement.
"The preserves?" she echoed, and then her eyes widened as she recalled Magda's advice and what she'd done with Jaimie's preserves.
"Aye," he said with a faint smile. "It got on the bed when I laid ye in it after ye lost consciousness. By morning it had dried and looked enough like blood that we hung the linen. That way ye'd be protected did Brodie return ere our marriage was consummated and try to have it annulled."
"Oh," she breathed and lowered her head to his chest, her mind whirling with thoughts. She'd thought he'd consummated the marriage while she was unconscious, but he hadn't. Niels had found another way to protect her.
"'Tis morning," he murmured suddenly.
Smiling, Edith shook her head slightly where it lay, and let her hand glide down to his hip. "Nay. 'Tis still night, husband," Edith said as she let her hand slide to claim his semi-erect manhood.
"Again?" He sounded amused, but his voice was also husky. She was beginning to recognize that as a sign that he wanted her. Although she would have known anyway since he immediately hardened fully in her hand.
