In Bed With A Stranger by Mary Wine

Chapter Ten

“The lord asks ye to come down to the inner yard to go riding with him.”

The maid lowered her head before quitting the room.

Anne sighed. Respect meant nothing when it was forced. She knew it so well that the sight of the maids scurrying to attend her made her ill. Tears stung her eyes because it was so distressing, but weeping would not help her.

Maybe confessing would…

She was tempted. But she was frightened, too. Brodick would put her from him. She knew it in her heart and it made her ache. He had the right. There was no doubt about it but she wanted to delay the moment when he’d stop looking at her so tenderly.

Stop touching her so intimately…

Anne had to blink rapidly to banish the tears before the two maids helping her dress noticed them. There wasn’t enough for them to do, but they picked at her hair and clothing, finding things to straighten. She didn’t have the heart to be ill tempered with them.

Even feeling her guilt so keenly, she could not stop herself from wanting to join Brodick. Her lust had truly destroyed her, exactly as the church preached. Having listened to the song of Satan, she was now a disciple unwilling to mend her ways.

One last time and then she would confess.

But she would lie with her lover a final time first.

A smile brightened her lips as she turned and hurried down to the courtyard. She was suddenly happy. Full of such bright joy that she felt as though she might burst with it.

The reason was simple. Brodick awaited her. The earl and master of Sterling had thought to send for her to ride with him. They would end up trysting and that made her move faster. Even if she had come to him by deception, he wanted her. He hadn’t plowed her and left her bed for that of a mistress. She would savor it. Soak it up while the spring sun warmed the earth.

It was the only thing she’d have once the bitter truth was known.

Brodick was a magnificent sight.

Strong and perfect.

Anne paused on the steps, smiling at the way he waited for her. He wasn’t in the saddle but stood waiting by the mare she’d ridden to Sterling extending a hand to her when she appeared, to help her into the saddle himself.

“I believe it’s time I showed you a bit o’ McJames lands.”

He lifted her as though she were a child, placing her atop the mare and handing her the reins.

“Thank you, my lord.”

He frowned at her, wrinkling his nose like a boy.

“I could not use your name in front of everyone.”

He mounted his steed and cast a look over the curious eyes watching them. There was a hint of smug satisfaction in his midnight eyes. He cut a firm glance back toward her.

“Do it.”

Anne suddenly understood and it reduced her to wanting to weep once more. He was making a public display of affection, dealing with the staff without ordering them to like her. It was clever and so touching she had to look down to hide the sparkle of tears in her eyes.

“You’re too kind, Brodick.”

“’Tis nae something that should be absent from a marriage, lass.” A warm hand reached across the space between them to cup her chin. “Just because ours is a noble union, that doesnae mean it must be unhappy.”

He smiled and tossed his head. “Come with me, lass. The day is fresh and ’tis time I introduced ye to a bit of Scotland. ’Tis a bonny land.”

Brodick gave his steed his freedom. As they cleared the gate, the pair of horses took to the road with zeal. In just moments the castle fell behind them, leaving her alone with her lover.

The sun was warm on her cheeks, spring finally dominating over winter. The mare felt it, too. She charged forward, her muscles flowing. They crested a hill and Anne gave the powerful animal her freedom. A valley lay below them, rich and green with new crops. Time and cares blew past her as fast as the ground beneath the pounding hooves of the horse.

Anne did not stay her but leaned over her neck, becoming one with the animal.

Brodick reached over and pulled the reins. The mare started, frustrated at having her run cut short. She pranced in a nervous circle but her husband held firmly.

“McQuade land begins over that river.” There was a serious note in his voice that drove Anne’s light mood away. His eyes scanned the ridge above them, searching it thoroughly.

“You do not get on well with your neighbors?”

Philipa’s words about Scots raiding one another surfaced. The last two months had nearly driven all thoughts of her away.

“The old lord is nae friend of the McJames.” Brodick shrugged. “He holds an old grudge against my father and in turn me. ’Twas his men I was chasing for the last month and a half.”

“I see.” She really wasn’t sure what to make of Brodick’s words; he’d told her little.

“You cannae ever cross the river, lass. Stay away from it.” His eyes swept the area once more. His hand was still in command of her reins and he tugged on the mare, turning both horses around.

“Even then, the McQuades cross onto my land as bold as be. You should nae be riding alone at all. My men know to stop ye if ye stray onto unsafe ground. I’ll be instructing the captain to nae allow ye outside the walls without good escort.”

Clearly he considered the matter closed. Anne frowned, his tone rubbing her pride. He noticed the disgruntled expression.

“Dinnae be vexed with me for protecting ye.”

“’Twas more that I do not appreciate you taking up my reins, as if I can not heed a warning. Or understand the wisdom in not questioning why you tell me to do something as understandable as remaining inside your borders.”

He scoffed at her but released control of the mare. “Ye dinnae ken, lass. McQuade would extract payment from ye for the wrong he thinks my father did him. Scotsmen can hold a grudge for a very long time. His men still burn down the farms of my people without a care for the loss it inflicts on them.”

“And what was the grievance?”

Brodick frowned, his lips set in a hard line of refusal. He shook his head, denying her question.

“If he’s angry enough to act out revenge on me, shouldn’t I at least get to know the reason why?”

Brodick led them to the top of the rise before he pulled up his stallion.

“My mother was betrothed to McQuade but he lost her contract in a game of dice to my father.”

“That’s absurd.” But it was exactly the sort of thing that she’d heard tales of at Warwickshire.

“Nae in Scotland, it isnae.” Brodick grinned in the face of her astonishment. A wicked gleam twinkling in his eyes. “Didn’t I claim ye as boldly?”

She shook her head, caught between the need to reprimand him and laugh because he spoke the truth.

“You’re a devil, I’ll agree to that much.”

His expression changed, darkening with passion. “Be careful what words ye place on me. I might decide to live up to them.”

“I can hope.”

A tic appeared on the side of his jaw. Hard need glittered in his gaze. Anne stared back at him, boldness firing her blood. An insane urge to taunt him flowed through her.

“Yet hopes will not satisfy me. I simply need more.”

“Yer a bold wench. Careful. Act so brazen and ye’ll reap the crop ye’ve sown.”

Her mare pranced in a circle, feeling the emotion. “And what might that be…my lord?” She drew his title out, knowing full well that it would frustrate him.

He glared at her, but the look in his eyes was not angry, it was demanding. “Maybe ye need a taste of what a raiding Scot does with his captured prize.”

“That is only if you can catch me.”

She slapped the reins, giving the mare her freedom once more. The animal dug into the soft spring ground, bolting forward. Leaning low over her neck, Anne laughed as she hung on tightly. Excitement surged through her veins as she looked back over her shoulder.

Brodick was hot on her heels. Just like a raider, intent on making her his captive. His midnight eyes glittered with determination as his stallion snorted. He bared his teeth and let out a yell that heightened her excitement.

Turning back around, she urged the mare forward. They raced up a hill and into the wooded patch. Her heart was hammering inside her chest, the blood speeding so fast through her veins it was hard to hear. She had never felt so alive.

She heard Brodick, heard him closing the distance between them. His horse surged up beside hers, the noses of the two animals becoming even. A hard arm snaked around her waist, pulling her across the distance between the animals. The ground was still flying past beneath her and her breath caught for one wild moment as she was on neither horse.

Brodick tossed her all the way across his saddle, her head sailing right over the body of the animal. He pressed a hard hand into her back as he pulled up on the reins. His stallion rose onto its hind legs, pawing at the air. A crazy shaft of need went through her clitoris, the sensitive bundle pulsing.

“Now what have I caught here?” Brodick dismounted in a quick motion, standing near her head. He grasped her hair, pulling it just enough to send little nips of pain across her scalp. In the oddest manner, she found the sensation arousing.

“A bonnie lass ripe for ravishing.”

His brogue thickened, hinting at his enjoyment of the moment. He pulled her from the horse, letting her feet touch the ground. His hand remained in her hair, holding her captive.

“Aye, I’m going to enjoy having ye at my mercy.”

His mouth pressed down on top of hers, demanding submission.

She didn’t yield.

Reaching down, Anne touched his bare skin where his kilt stopped. His tongue stabbed into her mouth, stroking across her own. Sweet need filled her, her own tongue tangling with his. Her hand slid up until she felt the sac at the base of his cock. Boldly cupping it, she teased him with her fingers.

“Christ.”

“Are you so sure who will be ravishing whom, my lord?” She gently squeezed and his lips curled back to show her his clenched teeth. “Maybe you should think again. It does appear that I hold the trump card.”

“I admit that yer telling me what to do, in private, is beginning to grow on me.”

She curled her hands around his staff. “Is it now?”

“A bit. But ye can nae put that card down without losing its power.”

A challenge coated his tone. A challenge she was in the mood to answer. Kneeling in front of him, she pushed his kilt up. The wide belt that held the pleats in place made a perfect place for her to tuck the end into. His cock was erect, the head swollen and ruby red. Running her hand up to the top of it, she teased the slit on its head with a fingertip. Seeing the thick pole in daylight didn’t make her blush. A deep enjoyment filled her as confidence kept her eyes open, even enjoying looking at it.

“Now about playing the card in my hand…”

The wicked delight he’d given her had planted its seed in her mind. Leaning forward, she licked that slit, intent on giving him the same pleasure.

“Sweet blessed virgin.”

Satisfaction filled her, stiffening her confidence. His hand stroked over her head as she worked her hand up and down his cock once again. Leaning forward, she added a long lap to the head. The hand in her hair clenched, telling her that she was succeeding. Opening her mouth, she closed her lips around the girth.

“Ye can tell me what to do all ye like as long as ye keep sucking me.”

His hips thrust toward her mouth, pushing his cock deeper. She relaxed, allowing it to penetrate. He tasted good, a slightly salty fluid weeping from the slit. But his skin was warm and male, filling her with hot need. He held her head in place, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward once more.

“Tease the underside of the head with yer tongue.”

His brogue had thickened further. She complied as he slid deeper into her mouth. She heard him take a ragged breath when her tongue touched his cock. She lost track of time, intent only on drawing more harsh sounds from him. His grip tightened, pulling her hair, and she didn’t care. The little nips of pain combined into a desire that seeped into her. Between her thighs, her clitoris begged for attention. She felt her passage heating, clamoring for the hard flesh inside her mouth.

“Enough.” He pulled her away from his cock. The grip in her hair tightened to keep her obedient to his will.

“My seed willnae be spilled in your sweet mouth, lass. Nae today. I plan to ravish ye properly.” He knelt down, holding her head steady so that his breath brushed across the wet surface of her lips. “With a hard fucking.”

Reaching down, she grasped his cock again. Her fingers slipped along its hard length easier now that it was slick from her sucking. He drew in a sharp breath, his eyes closing as she worked her hand up and down his cock.

“Are you sure, my lord? You appear torn. Quite indecisive.”

The muscle on the side of his jaw twitched. Working her hand faster, she listened to his breathing increase. “Maybe the captive will ravish you, after all.”

He chuckled but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. Determination flickered in his eyes as he thrust his cock up into her hand, shuddering in delight.

“I think ye have forgotten who yer master is. I’m just the man to remind ye.”

He pushed her head down, while sitting back on his haunches. She ended up across his thick thighs, her head over one side. He tossed her skirts right over her head as he clamped a hard arm over her back.

“Aye, ye need a wee bit of discipline.”

“Brodick!”

She braced her hands on the ground, trying to push her body off his legs. She might as well have been trying to move a mountain. He held her down as he yanked the tail of her chemise up as well. Cool air hit her bare bottom, brushing across the fluid that seeped from her passage. She felt the touch of the sunlight and the brush of the breeze on her bottom. Her skin began tingling in anticipation.

“I could become used to the sight of yer ass waiting for my hand.”

“I could not! What if someone is watching?”

“Then they shall see what a fine wife I’ve made out of ye. There are men aplenty that didnae think I might get my English bride to suck my cock.”

“Brodick…” She pushed against the ground again.

He chuckled, a warm hand rubbing her exposed bottom. “What bothers ye, lass? The fact that I’m intent on smacking yer ass or the fact that I havnae started yet?”

“That’s an absurd question. Let me rise.”

He smacked one cheek, drawing a gasp from her. The sensation was surprising. It bolted up her spine but also centered on her clitoris. Need tightened around her as a second slap landed on her opposite cheek.

“Some women enjoy it. They claim it makes their clitoris hotter. I’ve a mind to see if ye are one of them.”

His hand rose and fell again. A whimper crossed her lips because she couldn’t contain everything anymore. Being spanked should have horrified her, but all she could do was think about how close his hands were to her wet passage. Each smack jiggled her clitoris, pushing her closer to climax.

“Now, there’s an interesting sound.” He smacked her bottom once more before rubbing a warm hand over the smarting flesh. “I wonder. Do you like being pressed into submission?”

He stroked his finger down between her thighs and she jerked. There was too much sensation now, and her body refused to remain still.

“I believe I need to investigate just how much ye enjoy my discipline.”

He touched the opening to her body. Circled it with one fingertip. A moan rose from her lips as his finger slid in easily, aided by the welcoming fluid easing from her passage.

“Aye, ye are enjoying it.” He thrust a finger into her, stroking the sensitive skin inside her. “So am I.”

He worked two fingers in and out of her, little wet sounds reaching her ears.

“But I’m more in the mood to get back to ravishing my prize. We’ve played enough.”

He flipped her over. Her body lay across his thighs for one moment, allowing her to look at his expression. Pure devilment danced in his eyes.

“Now let’s get to that fucking I promised ye I would demand from ye.”

He picked her up, moving her to the ground. There was new, sweet grass there to lie on.

“Now to ravish ye properly, I need to lift yer skirts and nae take the time to undress ye.” He caught a handful of her skirts and tossed them up onto her chest. He moved between her thighs and pulled them up on either side of his hips. “We’ll have to wait until tonight to make love naked.”

A tender look crossed his face, but only for a moment. Hard need replaced it as he looked down at her spread flesh.

“Now there’s a sight, yer body spread for my use. Yer slit all glistening in welcome. Nae raiding man could ask for better. I might take to spanking you every day.”

“You shall not.”

His body weight pressed down on her. He kept her legs tightly held over each of his broad shoulders. His hard cock touched her opening, nudging into the wet entrance. His eyes glittered with determination.

“I shall have ye, as often and in as many ways as I please.” He thrust forward, his cock pushing deep. He felt too large, too hard, but her body eagerly took him.

“Wife.”

She hissed at him, defiance burning inside her. It combined with the excitement, heightening her passion. Her body wanted him, wanted him to take her. Balling her fingers into a fist, she hit his shoulder.

“You’re a fiery one.” He captured her wrist. Stretching her arm above her head, he pinned her hand to the ground. His hips didn’t move. Her passage was full of his hard flesh, aching for motion, but he remained still. Grabbing her free hand, he pressed it above her head as well.

“Better. That’s what a captive should look like while she’s being ravished.”

“Except that you aren’t doing anything but sitting on me.” Anne sniffed in disdain. “Quite boring, I must say.”

One dark eyebrow rose. His lips curved slightly up, mocking her. “Maybe I like the feeling of your sweet body clasping me.”

Well, it wasn’t enough for her. She struggled against his grip, needing to move. He laughed at her efforts, holding her in place, his cock rock-hard inside her.

“Yer body was made for me. I think I could spend hours just enjoying the way yer passage grips my cock.”

“Ohhhh…” She bucked, finally achieving some movement. Pleasure spiked up her sheath but it only made her crave more. She needed deep thrusts to relieve the hunger gnawing at her. The hard length lodged inside her was unbearable, teasing her with what she needed while remaining motionless.

“Get off me!”

“Or get on with fucking ye?”

His expression dared her to demand what she wanted.

“Yes!” She bucked, the twist of need making her frantic to get him to comply.

“Do ye want me hard and rough?” His voice was steel edged, his nostrils flaring.

“Yes!”

He growled and released her wrists. Propping his elbows on either side of her head he twisted his fingers in her hair holding her prisoner once again.

“Then ye shall have it.”

His first thrust sent the air out of her lungs. Her entire body moved as he drove his cock into her. It was hard, but pleasure filled her.

“Wrap yer thighs around me.” His breathing was harsh. He gripped her hair tighter, his hips working to drive his swollen length back and forth rapidly. She clasped him with her thighs, locking her ankles to hold on tight. Little whimpers crossed her lips because she just couldn’t contain all the sensation. Pleasure rippled upwards from each strong thrust. One wave collided with the one in front of it because he was moving so quickly.

“Yes…”

Only that single word made any sense to her. There was nothing but the friction of their flesh, only the pleasure shaking her in its grasp. Her back arched, her sheath tightening. Her lungs refused to work as pleasure exploded. She felt as if she was falling away from the edge of a cliff and it was the most euphoric thing she had ever experienced. The delight rippling out to her fingertips and toes. Every inch of her body pulsating with satisfaction.

Brodick shuddered, his cock pumping its hot seed into her body. He snarled against her neck, grazing the skin with his teeth. Anne dragged a breath into her starving lungs. Her fingers hurt from the tight grip she had on his shirt. Every bit of her strength suddenly drained away. There was only the deep satisfaction washing along her limbs. It settled into a pool around his cock. Uncurling her fists, she smoothed her hands over his shoulders. His torso quivered, his breathing ragged.

A soft kiss landed on her neck, soothing the bite. He trailed more sweet kisses along the sensitive column and along her jaw until he reached her lips. He kissed her softly but deeply, taking his time to lick her lips before pressing her mouth open for a deeper kiss. The hands in her hair released their hold, his fingertips gently massaging her scalp.

“Did I hurt ye?”

His voice was muffled against her cheek. In spite of the ache from her hips being spread so wide, she shook her head. He sighed, raising his body off hers.

“I got a wee bit carried away.”

He stood up, looking very much like the raider he’d played at being. ’Twas a truth that he was every inch a warrior. Strength was etched into his body, forged just like his sword. The long weapon was still strapped to his back and had been there the entire time.

“I am glad of it, my lord.” Rolling over, she stood up. Her skirts fell down to cover her thighs. Her passage was sore, but she would not lament it. She had enjoyed herself full well. “Even if my words will make you arrogant.”

He was already arrogant but it was something she seemed drawn to. No softly worded flattery had ever turned her head. Brodick’s bold demands turned her into a wanton.

He watched her, an unreadable expression on his face. Anne lifted her chin, giving him strength back to match his own. The wind whipped up, bringing a chill. Casting her eyes towards the horizon, she noticed the dark thunder clouds rolling in from the coast.

Brodick shook his head. “Ye’re a distraction, madam. I dinnae think I’ve ever been so intent on a woman before.”

“You say that as though it is to be lamented.”

He turned to sweep the area behind them, doing it in a polished, confident manner that further enhanced his appeal. She’d never encountered a man who impressed her the way Brodick did.

“Maybe I’ve nae decided about that yet.” There was a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Some men think falling in love with their wives is a fate worse than death.”

The word love stunned her. Her father loved her. She loved her mother and siblings. Yet love between a man and a woman was something that was denied her by her bastard heritage. To allow her heart to soften would be to invite heartache.

She knew it and still her heart swelled. She suddenly felt so happy, she wasn’t sure her feet were still on the ground. Brodick was watching her face, his expression carefully guarded. His lips twitched up as she failed to mask her emotions.

“Aye, lass, look what ye’ve gone and done. Stolen me heart. I’m going to have to take ye back to my castle and keep ye forever, else wither away for want of ye.”

He winked at her. “’Tis the Scot raiding way. We keep what we steal.”

He left to retrieve their horses. A stricken look took command of her features as she hugged her arms around her.

Love. It was amazing and more precious than she ever might have imagined. No girlhood dream could have prepared her for the feeling.

The years of Philipa’s scorn had never once felt like such a burden as they did right then. Her knees practically buckled, her shoulders wanting to throw the weight off. Her stomach was knotted with nausea so thick, she had to suppress the urge to retch.

Love…both gift and curse. The faces of her family tugged at her while her heart longed for the man riding toward her. If she remained with Brodick, loving him, she had to abandon the family who loved her to a cruel fate.

She had no idea what to do. None at all.

Brodick pulled his horse up when Sterling came into view. His body became still for a moment as he stared at one of the towers.

“We’ve company.”

“Indeed?”

He nodded. Raising one hand he pointed toward the far north tower. “See the banner? ’Tis nae mine or Druce’s.”

Peering in the direction he pointed, she glimpsed a blue and green banner dancing in the wind.

“’Tis from court.”

His voice went serious and it was something she understood full well. Even a titled earl was subject to the will of his king. Brodick kneed his mount forward, and her mare picked up her hooves to follow.

Brodick swung from the saddle the moment they reached the yard. He reached up and plucked her from her horse before the mare even came to a stop.

“Take a nap. I’ll have to finish ravishing ye later.”

A nap indeed.

Anne laughed at his jest but he was already striding away, intent on joining his secretary who was standing on the steps waiting for his master. Anne had seen the man a few times, the large leather bag slung across his chest a telling thing. She knew what was in it—letters, books and, most importantly, the seal of the house. He appeared at each meal with the bag and she had not seen him even once without it.

He lowered his head as Brodick got close, moving forward so that their words would not drift.

A cart creaked as it entered the yard, two oxen pulling it.

“There ye are, lass.” Helen’s voice was full of cheer. She had to wait for the team to be held steady before another man unhooked the gate placed across the back of the cart. Helen climbed out, shaking her skirts and tartan when she was standing on the ground.

“Me daughter had a strong son, she did. ’Tis me first grandchild. They baptized the boy Ian.”

Brodick’s sister was also in the cart, although Fiona looked frustrated as she climbed to the ground. A dark-coated mare followed the cart and the animal nuzzled Fiona the moment she stood up. Brodick’s sister stroked the animal’s muzzle with confident hands, speaking softly to it.

“You enjoy riding?”

Fiona looked guilty for a moment but her hands remained on the mare. “As much as I’m allowed.”

“Fiona, behave.” Helen shot the younger girl a stern look. Fiona didn’t appear contrite, only stubborn.

“There are many who believe riding will toughen my womb, twould make me sterile. I’m nae allowed very much time on my mare.”

Anne watched the way the girl pouted, clearly feeling as though life was unfair.

It was that, Anne agreed. “There are many in England who say the same thing.”

Fiona humphed. “Ye did not need to say that. Helen is already firm in her belief. I dinnae like riding in the cart.”

Helen frowned at her. “Don’t act so young, Fiona. If a lass gains a bad reputation, who will have ye? Think, miss, ye’ll want to have yer choice when the time comes for marriage.”

“I’m nae interested in marriage.” Her hands stroked the mare lovingly. “At least nae now and ’tis only riding. It’s nae as if I were asking to go riding out under the moon.”

Helen frowned. “Nae gentle lass should talk about such things. You just leave the moon riding to the fallen women who dinnae have someone to keep them from that hard path. It might sound exciting, but be very sure, lass, that it’s a rocky road to set yer life on.”

“Your brother took me riding today. I must say, I understand your fondness for it.”

Fiona smiled, all sweet forgiveness now that Anne appeared on her side. “Beware, Sister, Helen will blister yer ears for it. She is all aflutter about babies.”

“I will nae. Once yer wed ye can ride all ye like because the womb doesnae toughen once yer sharing yer husband’s bed.” Helen shook her head. “Listen to ye, young miss. How could ye know everything at sixteen?”

Fiona smiled, as vexing as Cullen often was. “I know that I love to ride.”

Anne laughed, unable to help herself. Helen rolled her eyes, but still grinned good naturedly.

“Tell me about your trip. How is your daughter?”

Helen happily clasped her hands together to begin speaking of her family. Anne let the sound of Helen’s joy surround her. There was much at Sterling worth loving.

Especially its master.

Brodick looked formidable that night. Anne entered the eating hall and a prickle of worry went down her nape at the hush in the air. Even Cullen, who normally was so carefree, appeared years older. Druce was busy crumbling a round of bread, his jaw working quickly while his thoughts appeared to race.

Brodick nodded to her but continued to brood over a tankard. Cullen broke the heavy silence.

“He’s a bastard.”

Druce grunted, sounding like he approved, while continuing to chew more bread. Brodick’s expression darkened further.

“That is nae the issue at hand. His bloody uncle has the ear of the King. We have to be careful how we answer his charges.”

“The bloody raiders burned a dozen homes.” Cullen looked ready to draw his sword.

But Brodick tempered his brother’s ire with a calculated shake of his head. “I spent five weeks running them back to their nest. No one knows it better than I, but they’ve gone and complained to the King making it sound like we have been raiding them. Jamie is nae tolerating that from any clan. That’s why he sent his men here to make sure it’s known far and wide that he’s watching.”

“’Tis nonsense. The McQuades were on yer land.” Druce washed the bread down with a huge swallow of small beer. “I’ll ride with ye to court.”

Brodick nodded, but his expression was still dark. His gaze touched hers and he winced.

“I’m sorry, lass, but ’tis poor company ye have to sup with tonight.”

“For good reason, it sounds like.”

His lips twitched, just the slightest amount. One of his hands covered hers. His fingers were warm, sending a tiny ripple of enjoyment up her arm.

“Protecting McJames’ land is a fine reason, to be sure. Yet I’m nae looking forward to riding to court.”

There was a disturbance at the far end of the eating hall. All three men grunted, hissing under their breath as a party of five men appeared and demanded some of the retainers relinquish their seats to them. Although wearing kilts, these men had doublets on and their tartans were blue and green. Never mind that there were seats aplenty a bit further across the room. The McJames’ retainers looked to Brodick for direction, but it was clear they wanted to give the newcomers a taste of their fists.

Brodick jerked his head and the retainers set their expressions. They rose from the benches, moving to empty ones. The newcomers smirked with their victory before assuming their seats and loudly calling for service.

“You have guests.” Anne watched them with growing disdain. “Rude ones at that.”

Brodick grunted. “Aye. The sort of company I can do without.”

Druce cut a hard look towards the men. “We all can. Damned royal hounds. Here to make us dance to Jamie’s tune and all because we were defending our own land.”

They bellowed again, beating their tankards against the table-top. Not a single maid looked their way.

Anne stood up, disgusted by their behavior. Brodick’s hand shot out to clasp her wrist. She gasped because he normally controlled his strength with her and this grip was hard, unrelenting.

“Where are ye going?”

“To show them that no woman of this house is intimidated by their arrogant snobbery. As well as to stop that racket before the children learn ill manners from their poor example.” She pulled her arm gently, keeping her eyes steady. “I’ll not have them gossiping about Sterling hospitality.”

Brodick released her, pride shimmering in his eyes. She lifted her chin, enjoying the praise. Their guests beat the table again. With a determined stride, Anne covered the distance to them. She hooked a full pitcher out of Ginny’s hands. The younger woman gasped, but Anne had no time for her.

“You will have to stop beating those tankards against the table if you would like them filled.”

Her English accent silenced all five of the men. They wrinkled their noses, one of them muttering something in Gaelic.

Leaning over the table, Anne splashed small beer into one tankard before the man holding it noticed her intentions. He jerked it away from her pitcher, sending a small wave of the dark brown liquid onto his shirt.

A ripple of amusement went down the long tables.

“You should be more careful with a full mug, sir.” Her tone was carefully controlled but there was a subtle set down in it.

One of the other men hit the table with his tankard. “How long do I have to wait anyway?”

Anne smiled sweetly at him, years of serving Philipa finally becoming useful.

“Forgive me, I was distracted by your companions’ clumsiness.”

“Damned English.” He peered into his mug frowning. “Likely poisoned.”

Dropping the pitcher, Anne snatched the tankard from his hand. She quaffed a healthy measure of it and slammed it onto the table in front of him. The thump of the tankard hitting the table bounced around the hall because it was so silent.

“May I refill your tankard, sir?”

Amusement began to fill the air, Brodick’s retainers breaking into loud laughter.

Helen suddenly appeared, the model of good hospitality with a tray of cut cheese and new spring leaves. She placed the tray with a great deal more force than needed.

“I do hope ye remember to tell the King how the mistress herself filled yer tankards with her own hands.”

“So ye be the English heiress.” The one nearest her ran his eyes down her length, pausing for a moment on the swell of her breasts. “I see yer nae so hard to look at. That’s a bonus considering McJames had to fuck you to get yer dowry.”

Anne felt Brodick’s eyes on her; the hall had gone quiet again. She could feel the tension drawing tighter.

“Helen, please instruct the cook to heat some bathing water. Our guests need to remove the dirt from themselves now that they are indoors again. It is only polite, after all, to not drip filth at the table.”

Anne turned her back to find the rows of McJames’ retainers eyeing her with respect. They slapped their thighs with one hand, filling the room with noise. She carried herself with dignity through the men and into the kitchen.

“Och now, ye put them in their place right nicely.”

Helen laughed, but her eyes fell on Ginny. Anne turned toward the older woman.

“Do not worry, Helen. We all listen to gossip. You should hear some of the things I have been told about Scots women.” The maids working on the long table slowed down, tilting their heads toward her to listen. Even Ginny looked less defiant as she waited to hear what Anne had to say.

“Indeed. I understand that Scots women ride naked and pick their teeth with the points of their dirks.” She paused for a moment, raising a hand to shake a single finger. “Yet, I always did wonder if that might leave wind burn on their skin as well as thinking, where do they store the dirk when they are naked? And how do they manage to pick their teeth with a sharp dirk while riding and not slice their lips? It seems rather complicated.”

The women looked at her, stunned. Helen suddenly laughed, her cheeks turning red.

“Yer a rare one indeed, Mistress,” Helen shot Ginny a firm look, “to be able to ken that some things are not as they seem. Hearing it doesnae mean you know enough to judge.”

There were several mutters of approval. Even Bythe nodded agreement. She watched from her post near the stoves, keeping a watchful eye on her ovens.

“There’s hot water aplenty if yer in the mood for a bath, Mistress.”

“Thank you.” To refuse would have undone the fragile truce she’d just forged. Helen nodded once more, approving of her. The tension in the kitchen dissipated, giving way to soft banter once more.

It was work well done, Anne decided. Something she might be proud of because not everyone could handle the prejudices of centuries. Maybe that was the true use of Philipa’s sourness. Serving the woman had taught her patience.

She had done well, if she did think so herself.

More importantly, she had not shamed Brodick. That was the true reward and she hugged it tight as she followed Helen towards the bath chamber.

Very tight.

“Och look at that puppy dog look of affection.” Cullen moaned.

Brodick threw a broken loaf of bread at him. “Yer daft to joke about her. Fate has blessed me and I’ve no desire to tempt her to take it back because I’m nae grateful.”

He was too. His wife was taking command of Sterling. She was doing it with kindness, something that was far too rare in English noblewomen. He could sit and watch her for hours, absorbing the way she moved, the way she dealt with difficulties without temper.

Aye, fate had been kind and he was grateful.