The Beast

by McQueen, Hildie

  “It is strange not to see ye clearly. Are ye sure we must have complete darkness?”

  Instead of a reply, he touched her cheek and his mouth pressed on hers. Duncan pushed her onto her back while continuing to kiss her. His hand slipped under her nightgown and then slid up the outside of her left leg. Beatrice could not help but shiver at the intimate touch, her body hummed with expectation and at the same time, she was scared.

  His breaking the kiss brought her attention back to him and she lifted her arms to allow him to remove her nightgown. She was completely bare, then again, so was he.

  Duncan moved closer, but did not climb over her, instead, he continued to caress her body, his callused hands causing tingles of awareness.

  Air left her lungs when he cupped her sex and Beatrice gasped. It was unexpected, but at the same time, she had no idea what should happen.

  His fingers slid up and down her center and she fought to remain still while biting her bottom lip to keep from making any untoward noises.

  Seeming satisfied at whatever he did, Duncan came over her. “Put yer arms around my neck,” he instructed.

  Beatrice did as he said but could not think past the fact he pulled her legs apart and settled between them.

  His breathing was harsh, fanning across her face as he fumbled with something. She expected it was what Isobel had informed her. That he would take his hardened sex and enter her.

  At this point, she was so scared a tear escaped and she squeezed her eyes shut. It was not exactly the right thing because then all she could do now was feel and smell.

  A part of him, she assumed his sex prodded between her legs. Then he pushed in. Despite his slow movements, it was uncomfortable and a bit painful to be stretched.

  “Just do it please,” Beatrice exclaimed when he hesitated. “I know the first time it will hurt, and I would rather it be over.”

  Duncan cleared his throat. “I am sorry.” The first attempt to thrust in did nothing, his sex remained in the same place. “Ye are very small. I am not sure if this is right. To hurt ye like this.”

  Despite her efforts, she moaned at the rather invasive sensation. It was not exactly painful in that moment, if anything it was a bit comical. Beatrice pressed her lips together and forced herself to relax.

  Duncan pushed in and this time, he filled her completely. It was obvious when he tore past her maidenhead, but it wasn’t terribly painful. Beatrice was too distracted at being completely joined with him.

  He began moving, his hips lifting and lowering at first the pace was slow, but quickly he seemed to lose control.

  When a hoarse groan erupted, Beatrice could only wonder what he felt. Although it wasn’t completely horrible, she would not describe the experience as enjoyable.

  He rolled onto his back and pulled her against his side. Under her ear his heart was beating frantically, his chest expanding with each sharp inhalation.

  “How do ye feel?” He pressed a kiss to her temple.

  Beatrice considered it. “I do not feel any different, like I expected.”

  “Ye did not enjoy it, did ye?”

  “I did not hate it.”

  Duncan chuckled. “We will have to learn together. I want our bedsport to bring ye pleasure.”

  The statement was curious. “Ye are experienced are ye not?”

  Her new husband was silent for a long moment. “No. I have not been with a woman, but twice and that was many years ago.”

  The news made Beatrice smile. “I am glad.”

  “Why? Most women prefer a man who knows what to do.”

  “I do not. We will learn together, and I think that will be more enjoyable.” She lifted to her elbow. “Tell me what ye like when I do it.”

  Duncan exhaled. “What do ye plan to do?”

  Without speaking, Beatrice leaned over him and pressed her mouth to his. When his lips parted, she slid her tongue into Duncan’s mouth, and he suckled at it.

  Sliding her hand down the center of his chest, she hesitated at the soft hair atop where his sex was and made circles with her fingers.

  Duncan’s breath caught, a sign her touches were affecting him.

  She then caressed his inner thighs, not quite comfortable touching any other part of him.

  “What did ye think?”

  “It was very enjoyable. Now ye.” He pushed her onto her back but did not kiss her on the mouth. Instead, he pressed his lips to the side of her neck and his tongue formed circles on the sensitive skin.

  Beatrice gasped when he cupped first one breast and then the other. With the pads of his fingers, he teased each tip until they were hard. Then to her delight, he took one into his mouth, while continuing to tease the other.

  The longer he touched and kissed, the hotter her sex became, until she was rubbing her thighs together in an effort to relieve it.

  “I think… ye should…join with me now,” Beatrice gasped out each word.

  This time when Duncan came over her, he seemed more assured, taking himself in hand and guiding himself to her entrance.

  Beatrice cried out at the wonderful sensations their joining brought. Each one of his movements bringing more and more pleasure until she was sure to faint. On and on Duncan continued, seeming to gain momentum with each thrust, until slapping noises filled the room.

  Unable to keep from it, Beatrice let go and allowed what would happen freedom and it was then the sensations of floating and then falling were joined by hot trails up and down her body.

  She cried out when everything erupted at once, a feeling like none she’d ever encountered.

  Unlike her, Duncan continued to seek his release. His large body was now drenched in sweat as he drove into her again and again. Hoarse grunts of pleasure echoed in her ears as he lost control, his movements jerky until with one last thrust, he spilled and cried out.

  This time when he collapsed over her, Beatrice smiled into the darkness, sleep taking her away as she felt the bed move when Duncan slid off and left.

  Chapter Ten

  Despite waking alone in bed, Beatrice was in good spirits. Even the slight stiffness to her legs and back did not lessen her mood. There was much to do and if she was to establish herself as the lady of the estate, it was best to learn the house and see what all required her attention.

  However, the first thing she needed was a bath. Moments after pulling the chord to a bell that sounded in the servant’s common space, Orla appeared looking well rested.

  The woman carried a tray with tea and toasted bread. “Good morning Lady Beatrice. Would ye like a bath to be drawn?”

  “Aye, please,” Beatrice replied hating the warmth of her cheeks. “Has Mister Duncan come downstairs yet?”

  “He ate and left early this morning. Gara said he had something to take care of.”

  Curious that he’d gone. They’d just spoken the day before about remaining close for a fortnight.

  By the time she bathed and ate it was late morning, and Beatrice felt as if she’d lost precious hours. She hurried into the kitchen to find Gara, but instead only Firtha was there.

  “Good morning milady, what can I do for ye?” the woman asked with a bob.

  “I wish to speak to Gara and learn about the duties of the household,” Beatrice said going to the window. “Is she outside?”

  Firtha frowned. “No milady, she has gone to the market to make purchases to stock the larder and our pen outside.”

  “Why is the larder not already stocked?” Beatrice asked going to where Firtha motioned. “It seems odd to me, ye have had two people living here.”

  The woman nodded quickly. “Aye, we did at first. Keep it fully stocked, I mean. But most of it would go to waste. Mister Caelan eats last meal somewhere else most days and Mister Duncan usually eats only porridge in the morning here in the kitchen and then one meal in the late afternoon.”

  It made sense, a man living alone rarely had a need for a rigid schedule only to eat alone. Beatrice sighed. “I suppose we will have
to discuss what our mealtimes will be now.”

  “I can show ye the house,” Firtha said, glancing from her to Orla. “It is not as grand as Keep Ross, but there are enough rooms to be confusing at first.”

  Despite having walked through the house with Duncan, Beatrice was eager to see it all gain. “Very well.”

  They walked out of the kitchen and went to the left heading down a hallway that led to the main great room. From there, they went to the right to the servant’s hallway. There were four bedchambers and each of the women who worked there had one. The rooms were small but much larger than what most servants could aspire to. Each had quality furniture and Beatrice liked that they also all had a window that looked out onto a wide-open field.

  They returned to the great room and headed across to a short corridor that led to a parlor, a study that according to Firtha only Caelan used.

  Directly across a large beautifully decorated bedchamber. The furniture, much like the one in Duncan’s bedroom had a four-poster bed and everything a person could need. Despite it, it was obvious not to be currently in use.

  “Whose room was this?” Beatrice asked.

  “Laird Ross. For when he visits.”

  “Ah, how delightful,” Beatrice replied smiling. “My sister and her husband have their own space when they visit.”

  When they returned to the opening of the short hallway and went up the stairs. Beatrice and Duncan’s bedchambers were on the left and on the right was a sitting room that Firtha informed them, Lady Mariel had planned to decorate.

  Just past the sitting room was another bedroom, which Firtha explained was used by guests.

  “Where does Mister Caelan sleep?” Beatrice asked.

  They turned the corner and there was a set of doors, the last rooms on the second floor. “There,” Firtha said pointing to the doors. “He uses two rooms, one to sleep and the other when he has company.”

  It seemed interesting to Beatrice that Caelan would take a room so far from the stairs, especially when only he and Duncan lived there.

  Once the tour was done, to Beatrice it was evident that they required at least one more chambermaid and someone to ensure every other task was seen to. If she and Duncan were to have children, they’d also need a nursemaid.

  “Are there any other bedchambers?” Beatrice asked. “I did not notice more than the four where ye, Gara, and Orla sleep.”

  “There is one more,” Firtha replied. “Just past mine. It is a wee bit smaller, but very nice.”

  Good, it would be suitable for additional help.

  For now, she’d have to wait on Gara to return and speak to her about it.

  “Orla and I will go for a short walk to get familiar with the land. We will not go far.”

  Firtha frowned. “Mister Duncan said to ensure ye remained indoors. He is going to request that several guards from the keep be assigned here, to ensure ye are safe.”

  “Goodness,” Beatrice said. “What about the grounds closest to the house? Surely, it will be safe to explore those.”

  Firtha led them to the doorway, and they continued outside. Next to the house was a small building that consisted of three large rooms. They peered into the first which was for washing laundry. The next two were a storeroom. The last was the largest space that had a table, chairs, and four beds where coachmen and guards that visitors brought with them slept.

  “I suppose this is where our guards will live,” Beatrice said looking around the room. “We must ensure the bedding is shaken out and that the room is swept.”

  Firtha nodded. “I will take care of it.”

  “I will help ye,” Orla said, and they hurried off to find the needed supplies. In the meantime, Beatrice opened the windows to allow air in and peered out at the corral and stables.

  There were two horses grazing and a man leaning on the fence looking off in the distance.

  Firtha returned with Orla carrying brooms, rags, and buckets, Beatrice motioned out the window. “Firtha, where does he live?”

  “Creagh MacDougal, takes care of the horses and lives out there in a room inside the stable. No family, just a hound. There.” Firtha pointed to a dark dog that ran up to the man from the direction of the stables. Creagh, leaned over and patted the dog’s head and then began walking around the corral, the dog on his heels.

  “Would ye like some tea milady?” Firtha asked as she yanked bedding from the first bed and headed out the door.

  “Nay. I do not require anything at the moment,” Beatrice replied. “Please return to yer duties. I will assist Orla.”

  After a dubious look, Firtha left to see to the midday meal.

  Beatrice followed Orla carrying two blankets. They went to a short fence, threw the blankets over it, and began to beat them with brooms. Once that was completed, they shook them.

  “Just sweeping and dusting to do, I can finish up myself,” Orla said.

  “Very well. I will see about unpacking. Ye continue here,” Beatrice replied.

  The house seemed ominous in its silence when she walked back inside. It seemed so strange to her to be in an empty house. The entire time growing up, there were always people about at her home. At Keep Ross, the same. Family, servants, guards, and visitors came and went throughout the day.

  Perhaps, once the chambermaid was hired and the new guards arrived, it would be a bit better. For now, it was as if she were the only person in the world.

  She made her way up the stairs and walked past her bedchamber and entered Duncan’s. The bed was unmade, a tunic and breeches thrown across it.

  Lying on the table was a cup, a comb, and a clan crest pin. His ceremonial tartan was folded and placed neatly next to the items.

  Turning in a full circle, she couldn’t help but feel that although he slept there, the room did not seem to belong to anyone. Then again, could it be her husband was like the space. Silent. Without adornment and half-empty.

  When she tugged at the adjoining door, it didn’t budge. The second time she pulled with both hands and it barely moved. Refusing to give in Beatrice took a deep breath, wrapped her hands around the long door handle, planted her feet, and yanked with all her might.

  The door opened just enough for her to slip through.

  As soon as she entered her own bedchamber, the ambiance was completely different. The air was perfumed from her favorite bath oils. The bed was made, her robe carefully draped over one of the front corners.

  Hopefully, Gara would return before Duncan or else there would not be a presentable meal prepared. Beatrice supposed if need be, Firtha could cook something.

  How had Duncan managed with only two people on his staff? It was unfathomable to her that he did not staff the house fully.

  Thinking of his return, Beatrice hurried to the mirror to inspect her appearance. She hoped they would spend the evening together after eating last meal. With an uncompromising eye, she noted that her hair needed tending to. Despite helping with the bedding, her attire was more of someone planning to entertain and not for a wife home for the day.

  After brushing her hair back in place, once again she peered at her reflection. She decided not to change. The low neckline of her vest showcased the top of her breasts and she hoped the view would entice Duncan into her bed.

  Lifting the delicate looking glass, she smiled at her reflection and then opened the envelope that had been placed next to it.

  It was a sweet note from Isobel, wishing her happiness. Her lips curved and she folded it neatly and slipped it back into the envelope. It would be a keepsake.

  With little else to do, she began to pull items from her trunk that she wished to have out. Some of her clothes were already put away and Orla would see about hanging up the rest of her dresses. That left only for her to find a place for each of her smaller personal belongings.

  She set her notebooks on a table next to a chair, then her set of quill and ink next to them. After Beatrice took out her current needlepoint and set it into a basket that she’d found
by the hearth, she placed it on the floor by the chair as well.

  Once that was done, she pulled a dark shawl out of a trunk and draped it over the same chair. Then, she took in the room. It needed fresh items, either fruit or flowers. She went to the window and peered out.

  A large lavender field grabbed her attention.

  “Oh,” Beatrice exclaimed, her lips curving. “Lavender,” she said in an awestruck tone. Then she inhaled deeply drawing the perfumed air into her lungs.

  The sound of voices reached her, and Beatrice walked out of the room. Since it was probably Firtha and Orla, she took her time walking down the stairs.

  Instead, when she reached the bottom step, Duncan stood in the entryway speaking to a man. The man’s dark gaze flashed to Beatrice, but then returned to Duncan.

  “Aye, I understand fully,” the man said to Duncan and hurried back outside.

  Duncan turned to her, his gaze sweeping over her sending tingles of awareness through her.

  “Wife,” he said by way of greeting. “Are ye alone?” He looked around the room. “Where is everyone?”

  “Orla and Firtha are about. Gara went to the village.”

  He huffed. “I brought back four guardsmen. That one,” he motioned to the door with his head, “is to be the lead guard. They are to sleep in the room next to the storeroom.”

  “Orla is cleaning the space now. However, I am not aware if Gara has returned as yet.”

  “There is time,” Duncan replied. “The men must settle, and they will be content with a simple meal. Greer sent plenty of things for them to keep in their room.”

  The entire time he spoke to her, his gaze kept moving to her bosom, but he did not move closer. Instead, he seemed discomfited.

  Beatrice wanted to laugh. She took his hand and pulled him toward the study. “I wish to ask ye something about this room,” she purred.

  His eyes narrowed. “The study?”

  “Aye, it is quite dark do ye not think?”