In Bed With A Stranger by Mary Wine

Chapter Four

The earl didn’t call a halt to their travel until the sun was almost gone. Only a pink stain colored the horizon when his hand rose and the horses all stopped. His men seemed to know exactly what his gesture meant because they dismounted and began making camp.

The spot he’d chosen was sheltered in trees, their branches forming a camouflage of sorts. There were few leaves on them but several large boulders rose up out of the earth to join them. One rock was smudged with dark black soot. Two of the retainers set about building a small fire in the same spot, while another couple of men gathered up the horses. They removed the bits from the mouths of their mounts, but made sure each bridle was secure. They knotted a length of rope to each bridle draping several feet between each horse to keep them from wandering apart during the night. One man climbed up onto the rock outcroppings, propping his back against some of the tree branches. He pulled his sword from its scabbard and propped it against one thigh.

The rest of the men talked in low voices but she couldn’t miss the lightness of their tones. There was also the distinct Scottish sound to their words. Loneliness clamped around her like a steel vise, tightening with each foreign detail she noticed. With a sigh she turned and walked toward the river. She could hear the water rushing and babbling but it wasn’t in sight. She had to walk over a rise and the water was below her. Paying close attention to her footing, she made her way down the slope. The wine skin hadn’t been filled with sweet wine but water. Still it had been welcome as her lips dried out in the winter air. Propping a foot on a rock, she was mindful to toss her skirts over her thigh before leaning down to refill the skin. The night air brushed her bare skin above the edge of the knitted stocking, raising gooseflesh. Once full, she straightened up, placing both feet firmly back on the bank. Giving the top a twist she secured it before looking up.

She gasped as she came face to face with the earl. He was only two feet behind her, his huge body impossibly large. She jumped away from him without considering how close the river was. Her heels sank into the moist soil, the wine skin dropping into the mud as she tottered off balance.

His hand snaked out, capturing her wrist. Warm, hard fingers curled around her limb, jerking her away from the river. She slammed into his chest, unsure if she wouldn’t have preferred the cold water behind her. Her eyes widened as his arm slid right around her back, securing her in place.

“Are ye actually intent on running off into the night?”

There was no mistaking the anger that colored his voice. He frowned at her, distrust etched into his face.

“I simply wanted to refill the skin.”

He snorted at her. “And ye just did that little chore without telling anyone where ye were going. Slipping off into the darkness quiet as may be.”

“I certainly didn’t think of it like that.”

But she should have. It was another error. Mary would have sent someone to fill the skin, never mind that there were the horses to tend to.

“I’d appreciate ye staying with my men. We don’t need to be fetching ye away from the men of any other clans that stumble upon ye without escort. If ye’ve no care for the harm they might do ye, have a bit of concern for the blood that will be spilt when we have to fight to take ye back.”

Her mouth formed a little round expression of horror. “I want no one fighting over me.”

His face was as serious as an executioner. “Be very sure of that. I dinnae let anyone take what is mine, madam. Run away and I’ll fetch ye back.”

His words were as hard and unrelenting as the arm binding her to him.

“I wasn’t fleeing.”

He snorted, clearly doubting her. Anne snapped her lips shut because her temper was rising. Labeling him a presumptuous clod wouldn’t help matters. However, she could at least take solace in the fact that insulting him was definitely something Mary would have done. His lips pressed tightly together as she failed to answer.

“Are ye ever going to take that thing off yer head? I thought it was against the law to be a nun in England.”

Anne raised her chin to find the earl frowning at her again. His eyes were a darker blue than his brother’s.

Midnight eyes…

She shivered, a chill shooting down her spine. His eyes narrowed as the hand pressing across her back felt the ripple of reaction. Heat bled across her cheeks once again as she inhaled the scent of his skin. Her belly suddenly tightened with the oddest sensation. With a hard shove she tried to escape from his hold.

He scoffed at her. A soft sound of male disgruntlement. “Since ye’ve been at court, I don’t see the need for feigning innocence, Mary. I’m nae the first man that’s held you.”

Her eyes widened as he retained his hold. His arm was like steel, binding her to his body.

How presumptuous.“I pretend nothing, sir.”

His gaze narrowed once more. A moment later her French hood was tugged off her head, pulling her hair as he plucked it free. He studied her face for a long moment before releasing her.

“I’ll be the judge of that matter myself.”

One foot plunged into the mud as she placed distance between them. A flicker of amusement entered his eyes as he stood blocking her path, using the river and his larger size to keep her at his mercy.

“If ye’ve become accustomed to loose morals at yer English court, best ye ken that I will not be shamed.”

Her chin lifted, no amount of better judgment interfering. “You’ve made yourself clear.”

She pushed past him, uncaring of how close she was to his body anymore. There were very few things she had the right to call her own, but she wasn’t a lightskirt.

“Good.” Command edged his voice. He followed her up the bank. “It pleases me to find yer face beneath that veil instead of a courtesan’s, all covered in paint.”

He reached out, stroking a finger over one of her cheeks. “Aye, I am pleased.”

She shivered again, this time in some odd response to the way his tone had softened. He was no longer angry with her.

Anne turned quickly to hide the strange reaction from his keen stare. Her face was hot where he’d touched it, the skin oddly alive with sensation. There was a part of her that liked hearing that he approved of her. A man such as he was far above any that she might hope to have of her own.

“Face me, Mary.”

Hearing her half-sister’s name was like icy water being tossed onto her feet. She turned slowly, struggling to conceal her emotions before facing him once more. This man would not take being deceived very well. Now that her face veil was gone, she needed to be more attentive to concealing her feelings.

“I’ve no taste for timid women.”

The gruff tone of his voice annoyed her once again. “You may always return me home.” She looked at the ground, doing her best to look like a coward. For one brief moment hope flickered in her heart that he might reject her.

“You should take me to my father. He is returned to court.”

A hard hand cupped her chin, raising it to lock stares with him. “It’s clear you’ve been at court. That place is ripe with schemes.” His lips lost their hard line as he stepped up closer holding her jaw in a firm grip. “Do I really look like a man who would cry surrender so soon after greeting ye?” He chuckled, the sound sending a quiver through her belly. His warm scent filled her head with each breath as he tilted his head so that his breath teased her lips.

“You dinnae know very much about Scotsmen, Wife. We’re nae intimidated by a few cold glances. In Scotland, we’re more practiced in the arts of warming up our women.”

He touched his mouth to hers and she jerked away from the contact. It burned clear through her, all the way to her toes. Her freedom was short-lived. With a twist of his larger body, he snaked an arm around her waist. He moved toward her in the same moment, surrounding her and pinning her against his hard body.

“Now that won’t do.” He pulled her flush against his frame, tight enough to feel his heart beating. His gaze settled onto her mouth as he slipped a hand up the back of her neck to hold her head. “It won’t do at all. Kissing my new wife is something I’m nae in the mood to miss.”

He touched his mouth to hers again, this time slowly. She twisted in his embrace, too many impulses shooting along her body to understand. The few kisses in her past had been stolen ones and brief. Brodick lingered over her mouth, gently tasting her lips before pressing her jaw to open for a deeper touch. His embrace imprisoned her but not painfully. He seemed to understand his strength perfectly, keeping her against him with exactly enough force, but stopping short of causing her pain.

She shivered as the tip of his tongued glided across her lower lip. Sensation rippled down her spine as she gasped in shock. Never once had she thought that a touch might be so intense. Her hands were flattened against his chest and her fingertips were alive with new desires. Touching him felt good. She opened her fingers wider, letting them smooth over the hard ridges of muscles that his open doublet had allowed her to see. Pleasure moved through her in a slow cloud that left a haze over her mind. Forming thoughts became slow and cumbersome as he teased her upper lip, tasting her.

“Much better.”

His eyes were full of male enjoyment now. It was mesmerizing, so much so, she stared at him, forgetting that keeping him at arm’s length was in her best interest.

“I see the pair of you dinnae seem to be interested in supper.”

Cullen’s voice was full of glee. Anne felt her eyes widen in horror. She pushed against the hard chest beneath her fingers. Brodick frowned, a dangerous look entering his eyes. His arms released her a moment later as he turned to glare at his brother.

“You don’t look like my manservant.”

Cullen smiled like a boy. “You don’t have one.”

“Oh, but I do, Cullen. Ye see, the man is wise enough to be invisible—like ye should be.”

Cullen began walking toward them in spite of the growl in his brother’s voice. He winked at her as he drew closer.

“Now is that any way to act in front of the English lass here? She’ll be thinking we’re uncivilized.”

Brodick snorted. Anne stared at him, trying to decide if she’d really heard such a sound from an earl. “Most English think the word Scots means uncivilized.”

The earl looked back at her, his words sounding like a challenge. His lips were set in an arrogant expression of enjoyment. The man wasn’t sorry about stealing that kiss. Not one bit.

“No one might label you indecisive, that much is for certain.” Anne glared at him, unsure if she should be annoyed at him for being so bold or herself for enjoying it.

Cullen laughed his amusement out loud against the darkening night. “Are ye sure ye want to keep her, Brother? I think I like her.”

Brodick lifted one dark eyebrow as he clasped his arms over his chest. He looked more formidable than Goliath must have—a mountain of undefeatable muscle and brawn.

“I was working on getting to know her when ye so rudely interrupted.”

“Och well, ye can let the lass have some supper before ye get around to consummating yer union.”

Shock slammed into her as she listened to the word “consummate.”

“Surely not tonight!” She shook her head, wrapping her arms around her body. “Not here!”

Brodick returned to brooding, suspicion coating his features.

“What reason would ye have for denying me, Wife?”

She was in dangerous waters now, that place that she had fretted about all day. How did she put the man off when he held all the legal right to claim her? Brodick’s gaze shifted to her mouth for a moment, and the tender skin on her lips tingled. Her hand rose to cover them as she tried to understand why his kiss had been so pleasurable.

“Ye didn’t seem to be minding all that much when I was kissing ye.” He stepped closer and she shivered, the damned impulse sending a ripple along her spine in spite of her need to think of a way to avoid his touch.

“Maybe the trail doesn’t meet yer standards, my lady.” His voice was full of mocking scorn now. The Scot in him was clearly offended that she didn’t care for his country. “Perhaps it’s too primitive.”

“I find your country quite pleasing but there are standards expected and we must make sure to follow traditions.” Her mind was working frantically as she held a hand out in front of her. “Yes, traditions.”

“I heard ye the first time.”

Taking a deep breath she forced her heart to stop racing while she considered her next words. “My lord, I meant no inconvenience; however, I have but one maidenhead and must be careful that it is intact for my husband.”

“I am yer husband.” He stepped toward her, his arms uncrossing.

Anne held her chin high, refusing to cower. Little David had felled Goliath after all.

“Yet, I have not been inspected and it is possible that after that task is seen to, you may wish to rethink our union.”

A smirk appeared on Brodick’s face. “Well lass, that’s exactly what I was getting to doing when my brother showed up. I’ll be happy to inspect every bit of ye. Personally.”

Cullen frowned, his face darkening. It almost looked as though he might be jealous.

“Now that is ludicrous.”

“I disagree.” The earl was back in full commanding form now. “I believe that inspecting my bride has full merit.”

“I’ll not be inspected by you.”

“And why not?” He glared at her as formidable as she’d always heard Scotsmen were. This was not a man who would bend simply because she told him no.

Anne stiffened. “Because you are not a midwife. What could you possibly know about a woman’s body?”

His lips twitched up again as his attention dropped to her chest. Heat snaked along her skin until it touched her breasts behind her stays. Her nipples actually tingled as her lips had done. A sudden picture of him kissing the tip of her breast blossomed inside her mind, sending a torrent of heat through her blood. It was heavy with dark temptation to allow him to do it, to discover if it felt as delightful as his kiss had against her lips.

“I assure ye I know a great deal about the gentle sex.”

A flame of jealousy touched her as she listened to the mocking tone of his voice.

He has a mistress for sure…

Philipa’s words rose from her memory as she raised her chin stubbornly, determined to not allow herself to be used without a struggle.

“Lust has no bearing on a woman’s fertility. Inspection of a bride is done by a senior midwife and sometimes the groom’s mother, but it is not something to be mocked, sir. I might spend tonight as your leman and find myself on my way back to my father at sunrise with no one to defend me.”

She moved a few paces up the hillside, toward the camp and its many pairs of eyes to offer her sanctuary.

“Yer mother should have seen to having ye inspected.”

“It is customary for the groom’s family to choose the midwife. Everyone knows that. You could easily refute my mother’s midwife.” It was a tradition that went back for centuries. She should have recalled it sooner. When a woman was married by proxy, her dowry was legally in the hands of her husband’s family. If he sent her back to her father, it might take years to fight through the legal system to regain the monies and lands. By the time the battle was over, the discarded bride was often too old to marry and ended her days a pauper, dependent upon her relatives for everything.

The tradition of inspection protected a woman because if a senior midwife pronounced her fertile and strong, there was no court that might annul the marriage. In a world run by men, it was a woman’s saving grace when fate took babes to death early or worse still, a bride failed to conceive. Some midwives even boldly suggested that some men might be sterile. Such a charge was rejected among men of course but midwives still maintained their authority on the subject of whether or not a woman’s hips and womb were correct for bearing children.

“Inspection before consummation is custom in both our countries.”

Brodick’s expression darkened. Clearly the man was not accustomed to having someone else upset his plans. Anne stood tall, facing his displeasure. It was something she was going to have to become familiar with. Becoming compliant would land her on her back in his bed.

“Now I know I like her.” Cullen sounded gleeful, exactly like a younger brother teasing his older sibling. The only thing missing was a governess chasing after him, to tug on his ear.

“With family like ye, I dinnae need enemies.”

Cullen didn’t flinch under the force of Brodick’s words, instead he grinned. But the earl stared at her, trying to buckle her under his fierce displeasure.

Oh, he was angry. Even if she was a virgin, she instinctively understood what was flickering in his eyes. It was as old as time and part of her in a way she didn’t truly understand yet. But she felt her belly tighten and her nipples draw into hard points. Something inside her was awakening.

“Leave us, Cullen.” There was an edge of undeniable authority in his voice. The playful expression melted off Cullen’s face before he nodded his head in acknowledgment. The younger brother turned and left them, moving up the hill and into the darkness. The sun was completely gone now, leaving her alone in the night with Brodick. The sound of the river would mask their words as well.

“What game are ye playing?”

He spoke quietly but she wasn’t lured into thinking that he was relaxed. She’d heard her father use that tone before and nothing good had ever come from it. There was a hardened nobleman in Brodick who managed his people with an iron hand.

“Answer me, lady. Why are you avoiding our union?”

“I’m not.”

He snorted. “Are ye a coward?”

She held her denial behind clenched teeth. “I have displeased you. You should send me to my father.”

A soft male chuckle was her response. He was half in shadow in the moonlight, his frame lit with silver light. For a moment, it felt as if they were in some fairy ring. She watched his hand move, fascinated by the play of night shadows.

“Clearly that is what ye want.”

His hand landed on her waist, the fingers hooking into the thick cartridge pleats that formed the skirt. With a jerk, she tumbled into his embrace. He locked an arm across her back, securing her as he captured the back of her head in one hand.

“But I would never have survived very long as the Earl of Alcaon if I gave up so easily. Fortune favors the bold.”

He kissed her again. This time it was a demanding press of lips. The hand on the back of her head held her in place as he took a deeper taste, his kiss pushing past her protesting lips until her mouth opened to allow his tongue to delve inside. She twisted in his arms, unable to sort out all the impulses racing through her. His scent filled her senses, unlocking desires she’d never encountered before. She wanted to touch him. Her fingertips felt sensitive and longed to discover what his bare skin felt like. She sought out the opening of his shirt where she’d glimpsed his flesh. His tongue invaded her mouth, seeking out hers. He teased her, stroking along her tongue until she allowed hers to tangle with his. It was a wicked dance that sent pleasure through her, the sweet intoxication sweeping aside all thoughts of what she needed to do. All that remained was what she wanted to do.

His mouth broke away from hers, trailing kisses along her cheek. She shivered as the skin of her neck begged for a touch from his lips. Her fingers pushed deeper beneath his shirt so that her entire hand might be flush against his body. Her heart was thumping hard, working hard.

“Ye shall have your inspection, lass, but ye’ll also have a taste of frustration.”

A tiny bite was placed on the column of her neck before he released her. She stumbled as he let her go and the night air cruelly swirled around her. The separation of their embrace made her shiver. He cupped her chin, a hint of a scowl on his lips.

“Ye’ll take the same longing to sleep tonight that I will, and maybe by sunrise you’ll cease talking about returning to yer father.”

He clasped both sides of her face, holding her for his kiss. This time he didn’t begin with teasing touches. His mouth took her, pushing aside her effort to hold him off. His tongue thrust deeply inside, stroking the length of hers. A tiny moan caught between their joined mouths as desire pounded through her. It didn’t begin softly this time but rose instantly. His mouth left hers, trailing hot kisses along her cheek and onto her neck. Never once had she noticed how sensitive the skin of her neck was. Each kiss sent a shaft of need through her. But Brodick didn’t just press his lips against her; he used his teeth to gently nip her. Her hands curled into talons on his shirt, an insane impulse to tug the fabric away from his skin making her shove away from him. She didn’t understand such an idea or why it was so vivid. Her breathing was rough as she staggered back several paces from him, fear actually tingling through her.

But not fear of him; it was far worse. She was frightened of what she wanted to do to him.

He followed her but forced himself to stop. His body shook as she heard him draw in a ragged breath. He crossed his arms over his wide chest, almost like he needed to keep himself from pulling her back into his embrace.

It would feel good if he did.

“Best ye ken me now, madam. Our bed is not to be a chilly one. Ye can have yer inspection, but when that’s past, ye will have done with yer standoffish nature. I’ll have none of it.”

“Or what? You cannot change who I am. You should take this night to consider how ill matched we are.”

“Why would I do that when ye have such passion locked behind that cool exterior?” He stepped toward her and she retreated without thinking. A warm hand cupped her chin, allowing her to feel his strength once again. “I dinna need to change ye, lass, I just need to do my part of introducing ye to yer own nature.”

Horror flooded her as she shook her head. The fingers cupping her chin tightened, stilling her denial.

“Aye, lass, ye kissed me back and that is all I needed to ken. We’ll learn to make our union work. But feel free to deny that yer body is burning with need. Tell me yer nipples aren’t hard.”

They were.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I shouldna state the truth? We’re married, it’s nae a sin to discuss passion.”

He ran his hand over her face, clicking his tongue as his fingers stroked the blush the night covered up.

“Ye’re blushing for me. It’s a basic form of communication. Yer body is trying to attract my attention and I find it very pleasing.” His thumb pressed down onto her lip and her breath caught as sensation erupted from the touch.

“Most couples in our station aren’t so lucky.”

He removed his hand, slowly, and her skin begged her to lean forward just a tiny amount to prolong the contact.

“I’ve been negotiating with yer father for over two years and I’m nae going to give up just because ye don’t value a union between us as much as I do. Our marriage is for the benefit of more than just the pair of us. Better set yer mind to thinking about all the people that will have better lives.” He moved closer again, curling his hands around her upper arms. He leaned close so that she could see his face clearly in the dim light.

“Best ye ken that Brodick McJames will nae be told no by his own wife. You are mine, madam. We shall share a bed…often, and I intend to kiss each of yer nipples.”

He turned her loose, giving her a push towards the camp. She stumbled but regained her footing.

“I belong to no one.” The words left her mouth before she thought about them.

“Well now, that’s something I’m going to enjoy showing ye the error of yer ways.”

Her words were far too bold for any woman, even a queen. Women did have a harder life and their male relatives held a great deal of authority over them. That was the law in both England and Scotland. Brodick wasn’t abnormal in his thinking that she belonged to him. Every court in the land would agree with him.

“Up to camp with ye, as ye have a mind to see tradition honored. I agree that it is the custom in a marriage such as ours. Once the midwife pronounces ye fit to bear my children, maybe ye’ll settle down. I suppose a maiden is allowed to be a bit nervous the first time her husband kisses her. Even if ye do learn the art of kissing quickly.”

“Twas more than a kiss…” Anne shut her mouth quickly before her ignorance showed any further. She’d never known that a man used his tongue when kissing.

His teeth flashed in the moonlight. “Aye, that it was and such a delight when our tongues mingled.”

Heat speared through her as she stared at him. She was frozen in a moment of shock mixed with excitement, her lips tingling and clamoring for another moment beneath his.

“Does that look mean ye’ve changed yer mind?” He hooked her around the waist once again, closing the gap between their bodies so that the chill of the night was cut off. He handled her so simply, his strength far superior to hers. “Ye don’t appear to be very interested in returning to camp.”

“You’re distracting me, my lord. I’m not accustomed to turning my back on someone who is speaking to me. I was taught that to do so is rude.”

“Leaving yer lord with unrelieved desire is also unkind.”

Her eyes widened but her chin rose, too. Brodick gritted his teeth before baiting her further. It was his duty to act with honor, not taunt her into a passionate tryst. At least that was what he had heard. When it came to marriage, he was inexperienced. Now women, he liked them and didn’t enjoy waiting to claim what he desired.

He didn’t give a damn about a midwife’s inspection. But it was the custom and he’d be acting like an uncivilized ruffian to refuse her request for tradition to be honored.

“Join the others. Now.”

She pulled in a harsh breath, clearly annoyed with his tone. But she kept her lips sealed and even lowered her head slightly before turning and climbing to the top of the hill. Brodick remained where he was, taking a moment to fill his chest with the night air. It didn’t do much to cool his blood.

But that wasn’t something to lament. Or so most of his fellow noblemen would say. Having a hard cock for your wife was surely the least of worries considering how ill matched most noble unions were.

He shrugged as his own thoughts failed to fend off a sour disposition. His cock was hard and he wasn’t in the mood to be placated by counting his blessings.

What he wanted was to investigate just how much more passion was locked up inside his English bride. That damned face veil had hidden quite the surprise. Her unpainted face was like discovering ripe strawberries in the dead of winter. Her kiss was just as sweet as those same tempting fruits. Letting her go was a test of his discipline and he’d come very close to failing it.

Still…it was a fine feeling indeed to know that he craved his wife. Even if his cock was throbbing and bound to ache for the next hour, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about how he was going to breed her. Too many grooms made wedding contracts that benefited their people but ended up with limp cocks when they got a look at their brides.

His was standing stiffly at attention, eager for the consummation.

He chuckled as he began moving toward his men.

Well now, it was a surprise that he was going to enjoy full well.

That it was.

She’d never guessed that a man might feel so good pressing up against her, never even considered such an idea since she was forbidden lovers. It was like discovering a hidden treasure of feelings locked deep inside her.

Anne snorted.

’Twas more like stumbling across Pandora’s box. Keeping everything inside was the best course of action. Failing to do that might seal her fate.

Still, she couldn’t quite banish the memory from her thoughts. Maybe that proved Philipa correct; she was like her mother.

A wanton.

She scowled, grateful for the darkness. Her mother loved her father. It was a curse, that emotion. Love wasn’t a wise choice for anyone. It drove men insane and drew women away from their families. Many doctors labeled it an affliction similar to insanity.

She couldn’t think of her mother as deranged or her siblings as the product of insanity. There had to be more to it, something that was yet to be understood. It was the age of understanding after all. Men were sailing the ocean and bringing back tales of new lands inhabited by savages.

She should be able to resist the longings twisting her belly. Every inch of her skin was alive with heightened sensation. She was keenly aware of how soft the fine chemise was against her. For the first time in her life, she detested her stays. They felt too tight against her swollen breasts.

Lust…

She lifted a hand to cover her mouth, her breath lodging in her throat. Arousal was nipping along her body, flowing through her blood like a slow-acting poison. Being a virgin didn’t mean she was ignorant. She knew the realities of the marriage bed, and had since she was half grown. But lust was another matter altogether. It led many a woman to ill consequences.

So why did it feel so good?

She should be able to ignore the tingling in her breasts. Banish from her mind the memory of the way it felt to be held against his body. Instead the sensation persisted, dancing through her mind like fairies intent on leading her into the forest where she would dance forever.

Supper was a quiet affair. The night closed around them, the fire a welcome friend. More oat cakes were offered to her, their dry texture making her grateful for the full skin of water. She shivered as the wind whipped through their campsite. Most of the men had buttoned their doublets now, including the sleeves. They pulled part of their kilts loose, wrapping the wool around their bodies to keep warm. As far as practicality went, she was beginning to understand why they wore kilts. The Celtic standard dress required no sewing and could be adjusted for warm or cold weather. All-in-all a rather ingenious way of dressing.

“You’ll be wanting this tonight, ma’am.”

The thick cloak that she’d spent last night huddled in was offered up by another man. This one considered her with dark eyes. She took the cloak and he tugged the corner of his knitted bonnet in respect.

“I’m called Druce and we’re cousins now by yer marriage.” He watched her wrap the cloak around her shoulders, his expression pensive. “On account of yer husband’s father and mine were brothers.”

So he was a noble-blooded man as well, yet still riding with the rest of the men without any finery to set him apart. She found the lack of arrogance in her escort a refreshing change. Each man earning respect instead of expecting it because of who his father was. They were every bit as strong and capable as their retainers.

She found it quite admirable.

Possibly too much so, because she was battling the urge to like them. As a people, she found the Celtic men more appealing than she had ever thought she might.

“Thank you.”

“No need to fret about sleeping out in the open. There’ll be a good watch posted. Scotland isnae as wild as you might have been led to believe.”

“I have faith in my father’s judgment.”

Druce offered her a grin. “That’s the way to think of it. You’re a good daughter to trust yer sire. He’s nae sent yer off with barbarians, no matter what ye may have heard.”

Her cheeks warmed slightly. “Well…gossip should not be believed. It is rarely true.”

He chuckled at her. Druce pointed towards the ground. “Ye’ll want to settle in and get some sleep. Brodick will have us up at dawn. Mark my words.”

All that much better for getting me to his bed.

Her thoughts were sordid. She laid the blame on Brodick. Before he’d touched her she’d never known lust. Now it wove along her bloodstream like wine, diluting her better sense.

She walked over a spot a few times, feeling for stones with her feet. She kicked a few of them out of the way before lying down, using the cloak to shield her from the dirt.

There was the sound of metal being drawn and she sat up, her heart freezing. The flicker of the campfire flashed off the blade of the earl’s sword. He held the thick handle in one hand while untying the strap that held the scabbard to his back. It came free and he replaced his weapon in the protective leather before taking a last look around. He was deadly serious as he noted each of his men before nodding approval. He turned, aiming his attention toward her. Anne was suddenly grateful for the deep hood of the cloak; it gave her means of shielding herself from his probing eyes. His lips were pressed tight as he sat down next to her.

Too close to her.

He placed his sword on his right side before jerking his kilt up to cover his back.

“Relax, wife. It is the normal custom for married couples to sleep alongside one another. I don’t see why ye’re so tense considering yer fondness for traditions.”

His lips twitched and she shot a glare at him that she didn’t even care if he disliked it or not. His humor was misplaced.

Brodick lay down but rolled onto his side facing her. He propped an elbow against the ground and let his jaw rest in his hand. He lifted a dark eyebrow before using his free hand to pat the dirt next to his large body.

“Come lay by me, Wife.” Thick amusement coated his voice as his lips twitched again. He patted the ground, taunting her reluctance. His brogue had thickened and mischief sparkled in his eyes.

“Unless I frighten ye too badly.”

She lay back, shutting her eyes to ignore him. He chuckled at her and the sound ruffled her pride. She lost her will to keep her eyes closed.

“You think too much of yourself, my lord. You are but a man, no different from many, many others.”

She kept her voice low but he heard her. Instead of taking offense at her insult, he grinned. He reached across her body, keeping her shoulders pinned to the ground as he leaned close to her face, hovering above her lips. Tense anticipation tightened around her as she felt the brush of his breath on the delicate skin of her lips.

“It will be my pleasure to introduce ye to the differences, lass.” He pressed a firm kiss against her mouth. It was hard and inescapable, his chest keeping her in place as his mouth took what he wanted from her.

But it felt good. The kiss blew against the coals of the passion he’d sparked in her by the river. When he lifted his lips away, her breath was uneven.

“I’m looking forward to being in a more private place tomorrow night. There be a world o’ difference between knowing the men around ye and knowing a husband.”

He lay down beside her but remained on his side. She felt his stare on her as she tried to banish the feel of his kiss from her lips.

She forgot to pray as her body tingled and longed for more kisses.

Along with ones applied to her nipples.

Her thoughts made her sleep restless, and she turned and twisted on the hard ground. She opened her eyes half a dozen times during the night, staring at the shapes of the men around her. Her mind tossed about the idea of escape but she conquered that weakness by thinking of her family. If she ran away, she was abandoning them to Philipa’s wrath.

A soft grunt filled her ear as Brodick shifted. He reached across her body and hooked her around the waist. Pulling her snug against him, he kept her still as she wiggled in his embrace.

“You need some rest and so do I,” he whispered into her ear as his front pressed against her back. She was a great deal warmer with his body sharing his heat with her. But she also caught his scent and it awakened the need that had been so hard to resist while he kissed her. She shifted, trying to find some way to escape the smell of his warm skin.

“Keep rubbing against my cock and ye’ll have to live without that inspection.”

She gasped, looking around them, but his men had lay down several paces from them. His lips grazed her neck. His hand slid down to her belly, keeping her still as his lower body remained in firm contact with her bottom. Even through all the layers of her skirt and cloak, there was the unmistakable bulge of his cock. It was hard and her passage suddenly felt empty as though she would enjoy having it invade her sheath.

“Ye see how well suited we are.”

“Lust does not prove compatibility.”

He raised his head so that their eyes met in the dark. “It is a fine place to start.” He rubbed her mons, boldly touching it for the first time.

“Stop that.”

“Ye’re my wife, mine to touch by blessing of the church and yer family. Why would I stop doing something that yer face tells me ye’re enjoying?”

Pleasure burned up her passage as his hand moved. His eyes glittered as his lips thinned. There was no mercy on his face as his hand remained over her mons, moving in a steady motion.

“Close yer eyes and sleep or I’m going to take ye back to the riverbank to settle this question. Keep waking me up and it will be yer duty to entertain me, Wife.”

She closed her eyes in spite of her temper. Several retorts formed in her mind and she bit them back. A soft kiss landed on one cheek before he pulled his hand away from her mons. He settled it around her waist, clamping her against him from toes to chin.

“I’m nae a brute, Mary. But avoiding me will nae make this adjustment any easier. Some things are best done quickly. That way ye nae have time to dread them.”

She scoffed at him, the sound leaving her lips without thought. He chuckled, nuzzling against her neck for a long moment before settling back behind her, his scent keeping her passion alive and hot. She tried to sleep once more but her body wasn’t interested in rest. It longed for more touches, more pleasure. Her clitoris was pulsing softly with need as her passage craved penetration. There was no escape from the lust as long as Brodick held her tight against him. Her body wanted his and she couldn’t escape thinking about him while he held her. Time stretched, the night longer than any she had ever endured.