by Lynsay Sands
The pair greeted each other, then Ian glanced from Seonaid to Aeldra expectantly. "Were ye comin' to practice? I could use a good workout."
Seonaid hesitated, but when she glanced back to see both Blake and Little George scowling to high heaven and hurrying toward them, she nodded firmly. They weren't likely to get a moment to talk anyway. She should have taken the women back up to her room to plan their next move and she would, after she'd had a little workout. Other than the skirmish in the abbey and then the one in the clearing, they hadn't had a proper chance to practice since leaving for St. Simmian's.
"Is that the English yer suppose to marry?" Ian asked as they walked to where several men were practicing their battle skills.
"Aye." Seonaid didn't bother to glance toward them. She knew Blake and Little George were still following, closing the distance between them.
"He looks put out, but then, I hear ye've been leadin' him a merry chase."
"Everyone appears to have heard," Seonaid said with disgust.
"Gavin told Duncan, Duncan told me," Ian said with amusement. He slapped her lower back and added, "Come on, Seonaid. Let's show him the fine lass he's amarryin'."
Moving in front of her, he drew his sword out as he turned to face her and immediately went on the attack. Seonaid was ready for him. She'd known Ian McInnes since she was a bairn and was used to his surprise tactics. In fact, she knew all his tricks, so found it easy to hold her own with him.
*
"She's good."
Blake scowled at Little George's comment as they watched his betrothed fend off the dark-haired Scot's attack. Ian, he thought he'd heard her greet him. She'd seemed rather happy to see him too. And he hadn't liked the way the man had embraced her and swung her around, anymore than he had cared for the way the man's hand had come perilously close to hitting her bottom when he'd slapped her back before squaring off against her.
But she was good, he conceded. He supposed he had initially noted that in the clearing when she had been doing battle with the men she had later claimed were Camerons. Unfortunately, he'd been a little too preoccupied with her state of undress to pay much attention to her skill with the sword. But she was more than just good, he realized now. Angus Dunbar had not wasted money on having the special sword made for her. She wielded it with expertise, using skill to counter the greater strength of her opponent.
A soft growl and the way Little George tensed beside him drew Blake's attention to the other two women. Aeldra and Sister Helen had been standing off to the side, watching the couple do battle. Now a burly redheaded Scot had approached them and, even as he watched, Seonaid's small cousin was moving out onto the field a little away from Seonaid and squaring off against this new man.
Blake wasn't surprised to see that the smaller woman was just as skilled. He was interested to note that Little George wasn't happy about it and wondered if romance was in bloom for the pair. They would certainly be an odd twosome, he so large and she so tiny. But love came in many shapes and forms.
His gaze slid back to Seonaid, and he noted the way she was smiling and laughing, the flush of color that had come to her cheeks as she fought off the dark-haired man's attack. She was obviously enjoying herself, as was her opponent, and suddenly the battle almost seemed to take on the look of a courting dance. He had never thought of it as such while in battle himself, but the ritual was there in the way they moved in toward each other, swords meeting with the clang of metal against metal, in the way Seonaid whirled and spun away, and then back to meet his sword again. Of course, he supposed the fact that the image of her battling naked was imposing itself on his mind didn't help. He could picture the way her muscles would be stretching and moving beneath her clothes, the way her breasts would look in the afternoon sun.
Hell! Was there anything this woman could do that wouldn't excite him and make him think of bedding her? Wrestling with her on the forest floor had had the same effect, as had awaking to find himself curled around her like a blanket in the barn. Having her ride before him on his horse had put him in a terrible state, especially when she'd relaxed enough to fall asleep the last bit of the way and curled up against him like a sleepy cat. Now, watching her practice with swords put him in mind of wanting to tumble her to the ground right there and--
"Hell," he muttered with disgust. He had to get her wedded and bedded soon. In the meantime, he had some excess energy to work out himself. Drawing his sword, he walked out onto the field.
Seonaid raised her sword to deflect Ian's next blow and found it stopped by another's sword thrust higher than hers. Glancing to the side with irritation, she stared at Blake in amazement.
"May I?" he said politely.
Ian lowered his sword with a wide grin and moved to stand out of the way with Helen.
Seonaid glanced back to Blake, then abruptly lifted her sword to fend off the first blow from her betrothed. After that, Seonaid concentrated on what she was doing and found herself quickly winded by the ferocity of his assault. She knew Ian, knew what to expect, and found fending him off a relaxing pastime. She didn't know Blake, or the way he moved in battle. The man wasn't holding back either, and he kept her so busy deflecting his blows, at first she had no real chance to go on the attack.
It occurred to her that she had daydreamed about this very situation several times in the past, but when--after several moments of fighting him--she found her sword knocked from her hands and herself defenseless to his next blow, Seonaid merely gaped at him in shock as the sword came down, then stopped a breath away from her head. In her daydreams they had been equal in battle, or she had beaten him, but he had never beaten her. But in reality ...
Bloody hell, he'd beaten her, she realized with dismay. She decided she preferred the daydream.
"You are very good with the sword, Seonaid." Blake bent to retrieve the weapon he'd knocked from her hand. "But you are not aggressive enough. You allow your opponent to take the lead and simply fend him off, waiting for an opening to make a killing blow. You should make an opening, else you are in danger of allowing your opponent to wear you out and win."
"I have told her that many times o'er the years. The lass jest willna listen," Angus Dunbar announced, drawing their attention to the fact that he, along with many others, had come to watch the battle. They had quite a little audience now, she noted with irritation.
Grimacing, she took her sword from Blake and moved toward where Helen and Aeldra stood.
"Ye'd best take yerself up to the keep, Seonaid." Her father's voice sounded behind her.
"That's where I was goin'," Seonaid muttered.
"Lady Wildwood is awaitin' fer ye in yer room. Go straight there."
"Why?" Seonaid asked warily, pausing to turn back.
"News has come from Sherwell. He's ailin' and canna come. The weddin' is in an hour."
Chapter Eleven
"There. You look lovely, dear."
Seonaid stared down at herself and cringed. It was her wedding night. That thought kept running through her head, over and over and over. Her wedding night. After all her running and fighting to avoid the wedding, she had gone to the slaughter without a whimper of protest. That fact was rather startling. But then, she hadn't had much of a chance to protest.
"News has come from Sherwell. He's ailin' and canna come. The weddin' is in an hour," her father had said. Then he had moved to stand before her and added, "I ken I have no behaved verra well over this marriage through the years. I was angry at Blake's father. But he is a good man, as is the son. Blake'll make ye a good husband, and I'm doin' this for yer own good."
"Doin' what?" Seonaid had asked.
For answer he had glanced over his shoulder and said, "Gavin, take four men and escort the women to Seonaid's room."
And that had been that. Gavin was one of her father's best men and he knew Seonaid very well. There had been no escaping his presence. He and the other men had escorted them to her room and into the care of Lady Wildwood, then had stood outside the do
or while she was bathed and dressed for the wedding. Then he had escorted her below, where the wedding had taken place.
Everyone had been terribly subdued. Aeldra and Helen had constantly looked as if they wanted to say something but had remained silent, as had Seonaid, leaving Lady Wildwood and Iliana to fill the silence with meaningless chatter and reassurances.
Then Seonaid had found herself standing before the bishop, Blake at her side and her father and everyone else there to witness. Seonaid didn't recall much about the ceremony--it was all rather a blur to her--but she must have said what she was supposed to. Then she had found herself seated at the trestle table with platter after platter of food passing under her nose until Lady Wildwood had tapped her shoulder and escorted her abovestairs, with Iliana, Aeldra, and Helen on their heels. The women had bathed her again, perfumed her, and dressed her in this confection of lace and almost sheer linen.
"Are you all right?" Lady Wildwood asked suddenly, eyeing her with concern.
Seonaid shifted from one foot to the other and shook her head.
"Oh." The woman looked taken aback for a minute, then released a little sigh. "I know it is frightening, dear. But it will not hurt for long, as I told you, and--"
"It's no that," Seonaid said quickly, not wanting Helen and Aeldra to think she was afraid of a little pain. She'd been to battle; a little pain wasn't that awful. At least, so she told herself. But in truth, it was quite odd, really. She wasn't a coward. Seonaid rode off to battle without a bit of fear. On the other hand, she didn't ride off into battle thinking she could be injured, or possibly killed. But tonight she knew she was going to be hurt. No matter what.
Lady Wildwood had said for some it hurt just a bit, for others a lot, and that one couldn't say how it would go for her. But as far as the woman knew, no one had ever had a painless first time. Or, she'd added a tad wryly, at least no woman she knew had admitted to not suffering the first time.
So Seonaid knew she was going to have pain. That wasn't something she was looking forward to. But she'd be damned if she was going to admit to any anxiety about it. Now, about her gown ... that was another matter entirely.
She gestured to the thin white linen shift they had dressed her in. It was her mother's gown, one they had found in an old chest of her things. Fortunately, her mother had been tall like herself. In fact, she'd been much the same size apparently, for the gown fit beautifully. Seonaid stared down at herself. She'd never worn anything quite so lovely or delicate. And she wasn't at all comfortable in it. She felt terribly vulnerable.
"What is it, dear?" Lady Wildwood asked.
Seonaid glanced from the woman to Aeldra, Helen, and Iliana, then held her hands out helplessly and admitted, "I feel naked."
"Oh." When Lady Wildwood merely smiled gently, Seonaid's gaze skipped around the room.
"Where's my--?" She paused and moved across the room to grab her sword when she spotted it.
"Oh!" Lady Wildwood was at her side in a heartbeat, grabbing the weapon away. "No, no, dear. You will not need that."
"I wasna goin' to use it," Seonaid assured her. "I just want to hold it. I--"
"No," Lady Wildwood said firmly, and turned her toward the bed. "Just hop in and wait there. Everything will be fine. Truly."
Seonaid moved toward the bed, but when she glanced over her shoulder to see Lady Wildwood wasn't following, but had walked over to Iliana, she veered off to snatch up her sgian dubh from the chest where it had been set, then rushed to the bed. Unfortunately, Lady Wildwood happened to turn back as she was slipping the weapon under one of the cushions at the head of the bed.
"Seonaid!" She rushed to her side and leaned over to snatch that up as well. "No!"
"But I just want to have it near. I'll feel less defenseless," Seonaid protested.
Iliana's mother heaved out a breath and sat down on the side of the bed. "My dear child, I know this is all new and alarming, but you do not need defenses." She patted Seonaid's hand soothingly. "Trust me. Everything will be well. Blake will be gentle and kind."
"I doona ken, Lady Wildwood," Aeldra said doubtfully. "Sherwell looked none too pleased at sup when Duncan was recounting what Gavin had told him of all that has occurred since he found us at St. Simmian's." She made a face. "He didna take well to everyone laughing at him. Mayhap ye should leave the sgian dubh at least."
"Aeldra, you are not helping." Lady Wildwood rubbed her forehead with one hand, a pained expression on her face. "Iliana, dear, perhaps you should take the girls and go see what is holding up the men."
"Aye, Mother."
"Thank you." Lady Wildwood waited for her daughter to usher the women out, then forced a smile for Seonaid. "While it is true Blake was no doubt distressed at being the butt of everyone's amusement, by all accounts he is a fair man and will not take it out on you. 'Tis hardly your fault that Duncan took it into his head to tease him."
"But had I no done those things, Duncan would have had nothin' to tease him with."
"Aye, but--" She paused when the door suddenly opened and Iliana leaned in to announce, "The men are coming."
Lady Wildwood was on her feet at once. She paused to pat Seonaid's hand reassuringly and murmur "All will be well," then hurried out of the room, taking the sgian dubh with her.
*
Blake spotted the women outside the door to Seonaid's room and tried to ignore the way they were watching his approach. Sister Helen and Iliana were looking slightly anxious, tense smiles pasted on their lips, and Aeldra was looking positively ferocious, glaring at him in what could only be warning. He presumed the little Scot was trying to convey with her eyes that he'd best not mistreat Seonaid. The message was coming through loud and clear.
He was almost to the women and the door they were guarding when it suddenly opened and Lady Wildwood slipped out.
"Oh!" She gave what sounded like a forced laugh and waved her hand vaguely as she said, "Here you are, then. Oh!" The last was gasped as she spotted the knife she was waving around with her gesture and quickly hid it behind her back. "She is ready for you."
Blake glanced from the arm that disappeared behind her back to the sword Iliana held and frowned slightly. The sword looked like--
"There ye are, then!" Angus Dunbar slapped him on the back and chuckled. "They've disarmed the lass, so ye should be able to get the deed done."
Blake's eyes widened incredulously. They'd had to disarm her? Good God. This was ridiculous. Women did everything they could think of to seduce, lure, or trick him to their beds, yet his bride had to be disarmed for him to bed her?
"Go on, then." Angus gave him a push toward the door. "We'll be below fer a bit. If ye find yerself in difficulty give a shout."
The crowd began to move off. All but Lady Wildwood who, after a moment's hesitation, stepped closer and whispered so that the others could not hear, "I trust you shall be gentle with her? All that teasing at sup tonight was not her fault, and while the girl may seem strong and fearless, she is as overset as any virgin on her wedding night."
When Blake stared at her, too shocked to respond, she poked him lightly in the ribs with what he presumed was Seonaid's knife and hissed, "Promise me you shall be gentle."
"I promise," Blake said quickly.
"Good." She relaxed somewhat and smiled as she smoothed a hand over her hair. "Good night, my lord."
Blake stared after her with amazement as the older woman walked serenely down the hall after the others. If he had ever questioned what Lord Wildwood had seen in the woman--aside from her beauty--he no longer wondered. She hardly knew Seonaid yet acted like a female wolf protecting her cub. She was obviously a special woman. Although he wondered if that did not reflect on Seonaid too. The woman had obviously seen something in his bride that made her worthy of such a reaction. He wasn't surprised. Blake had already come to the conclusion that his bride was a special woman too.
Blake waited until the hall was again empty, then turned to the door.
*
S
eonaid stared at the door. She had heard her father's laughter and the murmur of voices, but silence had reigned in the hall now for several minutes and yet the door remained closed. Had he decided not to bother with consummating the marriage? Perhaps he had thought to have it annulled after all. Seonaid wasn't sure if that outcome would be a relief or not. It might be embarrassing, but she truly wasn't looking forward to the next few minutes of time. At least she thought it should only take a few minutes. She wasn't terribly knowledgeable about these matters, but between what she had seen when stumbling across couples indulging in the endeavor and what Lady Wildwood had told her, it did seem to her it shouldn't take more than a few minutes.
That was a positive point, she told herself. It would not take long. She should think about it like a trip to the smithy to have a tooth pulled. She'd had that done once when a blow to the face had broken a back tooth. It couldn't be any worse than that, she thought.
Actually, now that she recalled it, that had been pretty bad. And the smithy had made her drink a large glass of uisgebeatha 'ere doing it. The water of life, or whiskey as the English called it, could be good for numbing pain, but it hadn't seemed to help much that time.
Tonight Seonaid hadn't had a drop to drink at dinner. She should have drunk. What had she been thinking?
"Bloody hell," she muttered, shifting where she sat in the bed. Well, there was no hope for it now. It was too late for drink or anything else. It had always been Seonaid's motto that unpleasant things were best done quickly. So ... she would ensure this was done that way too. If her husband ever bothered to show up to do it.
Seonaid blinked at her own thoughts. Husband? Good Lord, she was married now. She had a husband. She was a wife. Not that she felt any different. She didn't feel married, however that was supposed to feel.
Her rambling thoughts came to a dead halt when the door suddenly, finally, opened, and her husband entered the room.
His bride was seated in bed. Blake's eyes found her the moment he walked in. The sight of her made him pause in the doorway. Seonaid had proven herself full of surprises in the short time he'd known her. The memory of his first proper look at her still set him back on his heels: Seonaid in braies and a tunic. He'd never before seen a woman in braies. He was learning to like it. Long gowns were pretty enough on women, but they hid the lower body from view, and while every inch of Seonaid's skin was hidden by the pants she wore, they also revealed every curve she possessed. He liked watching her move in the braies. He had enjoyed seeing her fight in the nude even more. But this afternoon she had arrived--perhaps been dragged was the better description--to their wedding in a gown. Her hair--customarily worn carelessly pulled back--had been set free and left to soften her face and trail down her back. The sight of her dressed so had surprised him and taken his breath away.
