“Mae, rest. Ye’ve been riding for a week and it has been hard on ye. Ah’ll rest as well.”
Her maid knew better than to argue. Malmuira had been chastised many a time by other women in the keep and in the clan for treating her help like a friend, but Mae had been with her since she was a wee bairn. They were raised together and she loved Mae like a sister. She could not bear to see her mistreated or uncomfortable. Mae in turn took care of Malmuira and always made sure she had what she needed. She was a hard worker and always willing to do more than what she needed to do.
After Mae left to find her room, Malmuira took the small silver flower out of the fabric around her waist and carefully laid it on the shelf near the bed along with the ring her father had given her. Can’ hurt to rest. As soon as her head set down, Malmuira was fast asleep, dreaming of the man who would soon be her wedded husband.
Chapter 2
A loud knock echoed through the thick wooden door and Malmuira jumped out of bed before she became fully awake. The sun looked new and fresh, holding the promise of a new day. She must have slept through the rest of the day and night. It took her a moment to gather her bearings and realize she was in the Murray castle, and today she was to wed the clan chief’s son.
The knock repeated more urgently, and she wondered who would bother her so early in the morning. It most certainly wasn’t Mae. She would have entered quietly and awoken Malmuira without startling her. She walked over and threw the door open and, before she knew who was at the door, complained loudly, “What do ye need so early?”
A woman with a scowl stood in the doorway with her hair pulled back tight in a knot on her head. “I’ve come fer yer bath,” the woman announced loudly.
“Ah’ll not be bathin’ this mornin’,” Malmuira announced to her.
The lady didn’t seem to hear her and pushed past her into the room. She was lugging in a large bucket of steaming water and carrying it to a basin in the corner of the room.
“Ah’ll be fine withou’ a bath,” she tried again.
“Not on yer weddin’ day. Ye’ll bathe.” The woman’s tone had a finality to it that left little room for Malmuira to argue.
After three more trips back and forth from the galley, the tub finally had just enough water in it for Malmuira to bathe. She had never had a bath all to herself. She would bathe and then helped Siusan to bathe, and then if it was even slightly warm, Mae would bathe. Otherwise, why waste so much water, effort and time?
The strange woman helped Malmuira remove her clothing and began to wash Malmuira’s hair for her. The water was warm and smelled like flowers, as did the oils that she rubbed into Malmuira’s hair. Her strong hands massaged and scrubbed the skin of her scalp, removing all the dirt and muck from a week on the road. A thick pad of soap was used on her skin until it felt raw and new. She was pink all over from heat and the soap when she climbed out of the bathtub. She thought the lady would leave, but two more came in to remove the bathing water, and the stern-faced woman grabbed her arm and led her across the room. She put a cloth around Malmuira’s shoulders and pulled out a comb.
“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to a chair in the corner.
Malmuira sat and the woman began to comb through her thick long hair. While wet, her locks were dark and curly. She combed and dried with a cloth until the hair was dry and shiny smooth. Her light brown hair had never been so soft. Malmuira ran a hand over her hair while the woman fussed with a dress on the bed.
The dress was a beautiful, pale blue, the same color as Malmuira’s eyes. It was a fine garment. She was helped into it and made to sit back on the chair in the corner.
Quietly, and with a dignified grace that Malmuira was rapidly respecting, the woman began to twist and knot Malmuira’s hair on her head. She deftly pinned and stuck the hair into beautiful falls of curls and waves. The looking glass on the table was given to her and as Malmuira looked into it, her breath caught.
Her mother. She saw her mother in the looking glass. She had the same soft blue eyes, the beautiful locks, even the same sad smile. She touched her face softly, to prove she wasn’t dreaming. “Ah thank ye,” she said to the woman.
The woman inclined her head and walked out of the room without another word. Malmuira sat there, just staring into the looking glass for a moment until Mae burst into the room. “Ah’m so sorry, Mal. Ah fell asleep an’ didn’ awaken until now.”
When she spotted Malmuira, her mouth fell open and she stood silent.
“Michty me,” she exclaimed.
“Ah’ve not been so bonnie in my life.” Malmuira had a hard time not squealing like a little girl.
“Nay, just bonnie, Mal. Ye’re beautiful.”
Malmuira smiled at her friend and grabbed both of Mae’s hands in her own. “Ah’m glad ye’re here with me, Mae.”
“Ah’m glad as well, Mal. Ye’d never get along without me.”
Malmuira laughed at her friend and grabbed the silver flower and ring from the shelf, tucking them into the band on her dress. They rushed about unpacking the things that needed to be out and prepared her room.
While they worked, Malmuira found herself lost in thought. She was distracted by trying to imagine what the future would look like for her. Malmuira didn’t know much about the Murrays other than what she had overheard. Lara had told her a bit about her brother but had been more reserved than usual about sharing personal details about him.
She knew his name was Oidche Munroe Murray and that he was five years Malmuira’s senior. He was a great warrior, and she had overheard that he liked to bed lasses from clans all over Scotland, leaving them in the morning. He didn’t sound like the type to settle down with one woman for marriage.
Malmuira shuddered at the thought of what she would have to endure tonight. It would be her wifely duty to share a bed with Oidche. She only hoped that he was slightly appealing. He must be somewhat appealing if he were bedding women all over Scotland. She also didn’t know if he would be kind to her, or even if he would find her desirable at all.
She had heard horror stories from her friend Maizy about the appetite of men and how unpleasant it was for women. What she didn’t understand was how Oidche could convince a woman to bed if it were so unpleasant for them. She felt a deep wave of nausea settle in the pit of her belly as she dwelt on these things. She only hoped that she wouldn’t have to share her bed often. Perhaps he liked to travel. Either way, she would do what had to be done.
Malmuira felt butterflies flitting around her stomach as she waited outside the hall. She had been told to wait until someone came to retrieve her. She held onto her mother’s silver flower and clutched at it like a lifeline, holding onto thoughts of her mother and wishing she were with her. If she were here, her mother would hold her hand and tell her everything would be okay. Malmuira knew it was impossible, but it seemed as though she could feel her mother’s arms around her, warming her with a mother’s embrace. The thought that somehow her mother was present with her gave her courage. She set her jaw and tucked the flower back into the sash of her dress.
Malmuira was ready when the door swung open and a man motioned for her to enter the room. The clan chief was at the front of the room with a half dozen men surrounding him. Malmuira wondered which one was to be her future husband. Knowing her luck, it was the fat one with the bald head and sour look on his face. There were two other men there besides the sallow, angry-looking man that she hadn’t seen before. She swallowed a lump of fear and disgust that was lodged in her throat and stepped towards the group of men. Immediately, Gohrich was at her side, holding the crook of her elbow.
“Ye’re a brave lass, Mal. Yer love for our clan and for peace will always be remembered. And if he lays a hand on ye, let me know. Ah’ll break his nose.”
Malmuira had to use her hand to hide the smile that broke out across her face. Gohrich was so protective, and she knew if she ever was harmed, Gohrich would probably break more than his nose.
Once they reached the gr
oup of men, Gohrich spoke to the clan chief in that loud voice of his. “The clan Buchanon gives this lass to ye as a token of peace. She is the daughter of our Clan Chief and loved by her clan.”
The graying man nodded to Gohrich, who squeezed Malmuira’s arm reassuringly and walked away.
Malmuira still didn’t know the Clan Chief’s name. She knew he had visited their clan a few times before the war, but she was too young to recall anything specific about his visit. She hadn’t been properly introduced to him either, and he was always just referred to as Clan Chief Murray.
He cleared his throat and nodded to a man that stood at his right hand. “My youngest son, I give ye this woman. Do ye take her in marriage?”
The was devastatingly handsome. His long dark hair was bound with a leather lace. His eyes drew her in and captivated her attention. They were ocean blue like his father’s but seemed more deep and expressive than any man she knew. He wore the colors of his clan boldly, his kilt highlighting muscular legs.
“Aye, Faither. I take her,” he said.
And that was all. She was his wife now. The man took her by the arm and led her firmly out of the hall. She was not looking forward to the next bit. Was he going to wait to bed her until tonight? Or would he bed her now and leave her?
Once outside the hall, he turned her to look at him.
“Me faither wanted this union, not I. Do not think that this was by m’hand.”
“Aye,” she replied. She was unsure what to say.
“Ah’ll be back tonight.”
Without further explanation, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her speechless at the base of the stairs. What had she gotten herself into?
Malmuira kept herself busy throughout the day getting to know her new home and the people who worked there. Everyone she met was very polite with her, but kept a cold distance. She spent time with Mae playing a game they had learned as children. It involved storytelling and guessing what the other person was thinking. They laughed and pretended for a while that they were carefree children. Eventually, reality imposed itself on their fun and Malmuira returned to her room. It was late and she assumed her new husband would return from whatever was keeping him away from her.
She waited in the bedroom that night, wearing a robe and her night things. Her nerves were like angry bees buzzing in her brain. Daydreams flitted through her mind with rapidity. Her mind tried to create ideas of what to expect from her new husband. Each thought crossing her mind got worse and worse until she was shaking as if from cold, despite the warmth from the fire in the hearth. True to his word the Scotsman didn’t return until late that night.
The door knob turned and in walked Oidche. His tartan was thrown over one broad, muscular shoulder and he wore his hair loose. He took off his boots after shutting the door and walked over to the bed where she sat. “Ye are Malmuira then?”
The question caught her off guard. Of course she was. He saw her when they wed this afternoon. “Aye.”
“We didn’ get much of a introduction now, did we?”
She shook her head in reply.
“Ah’m Oidche.”
She didn’t know what to say to him. This was not what she had expected.
He reached out to her with his hand, and pulled her up to stand in front of him. As she stood, she tried to conceal the trembling that was shaking her like the seed pods in a tree. She assumed it was impolite for the bride to shake in fear on the wedding night.
He looked her up and down, from the crown of her head to the point of her toes, pausing on the parts of her concealed by the robe. She saw a hungry, primal look in his eye that at once caused the shaking to increase until she was barely able to stand. Fear made her nauseated and unsure. Oidche moved closer and wrapped his big arms securely around her waist. As he pulled her in to him, she was aware of the hard planes of his body and immediately noticed his arousal. Maizy had informed her of all of the things she needed to know for the night of her wedding.
He leaned in to her and Malmuira closed her eyes, hoping he would be gentle. His lips brushed hers and she released the breath she had been holding in fear. He pulled away from her sharply and a concerned look etched his features.
“Are ye alrigh’, lassie? Ye’re shakin’ like a leaf,” he said in a deep voice.
“Aye,” she responded in a small squeak.
“Why’re ye shakin’?” He was helping her sit back on the bed, which only served to heighten her nerves.
“Ah’m a bit nervous.” She usually had a hard time being candid, but honesty couldn’t hurt here.
“Why’re ye nervous?”
“Ah hate to be impolite, but ah’ve ne’er been with a man before, and ah don’t know ye at all.”
“Oh,” he said. He sat next to her on the bed. “It’s expected that we become one.”
“Aye. Ah’ll be okay.”
He helped her stand again, pulling her against him. This time, he kissed her gently. His hands went around her waist again and he held her tight. She began to shake more, despite her efforts to the contrary. She needed to do this. It would be okay. She took in a few steadying breaths and tried desperately to loosen her tight muscles and ease the shivering.
“Ye’re shakin’ again, lass.”
“Aye, ah’m sorry. Ah dunno what is wrong with me. Ah have to do this. Just ignore it, please.”
A pained look crossed his face. “Ah’ll not be forcin’ ye to bed.”
“Ye’re not forcing me. Ah married ye for peace and ah’ll go to bed with ye as well.”
“That’s no better than finding a maiden in the woods and forcing yerself on her. Ah’ll have no part in that.” He jumped up, throwing the tartan back over his bare shoulder and slamming the door behind him.
His rushed exit had her confused. Had she made him angry? Malmuira reached up with her hand and touched the place where his lips had been. Her skin still tingled with some unknown power. What had that man made her feel?
The new day dawned and Malmuira found herself awake with the first light. Her husband had not returned to her bed, which had left her in a fitful state all night. He was supposed to bed her. Had her fear really made him so angry? She couldn’t control how she responded. She had tried to stop shaking, but wasn’t able to help it. Hopefully she would be able to make it up to him somehow.
She lay in bed, her hair fanned out over her pillow, and looked up at the ceiling wondering if she would see him again today. What kind of man walked out on his wedding night and did not return? Perhaps he didn’t find her appealing enough.
Mae entered quietly and walked over to the bed. She realized Malmuira was awake and immediately began to flit about the room, organizing her things and getting them ready for the day.
“It’s a good morning.” She spoke to Malmuira while she picked up and straightened the room.
Malmuira got up and, with Mae’s help, dressed and combed her hair. She was due for breaking fast this morning in the hall with her new father by marriage.
“How was your night, Mal?” Mae could hardly hold back the smile on her face.
“Fine, Mae. Jus’ fine.”
“Was he nice to ye then?” She asked.
“Ah’m not sure.”
“Whaddya mean not sure?” She was pinning Malmuira’s hair in place while she talked.
“Ah’mean ah’m not sure. He didn’ really stay for long. He didn’ bed me.” Malmuira said the last part quietly and bowed her head slightly in embarrassment.
“Why?”
“Ah dunno. He said ah was shakin’ and that he wouldn’ force me to bed. Then he left.” Her voice quivered and a tear rolled down her eye. “Do ye think he found me lacking?”
Mae kneeled down in front of Malmuira and looked her straight in the eyes. Her maid had a strong jaw and sweet, soft eyes. “Mal, ye’re a beauty. Any man’d be lucky to have ye.”
Malmuira couldn’t imagine a man being that attracted to her. In her eyes she was still a scrawny child. She was thin an
d had little in the way of endowment. Her bodice was usually too large for her small breasts. Perhaps he had realized how skinny she was and become disinterested in her.
The door slammed open and both women jumped up, startled from their discussion.
“Oidche,” Malmuira acknowledged.
Mae curtsied and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Oidche was still wearing the same clothes as last night and looked disheveled. There was a piece of hay in his hair. Malmuira plucked it from his hair without thought and threw it on the ground.
“If me faither asks, we spent the night together, wife. Ah don’t want anyone knowing ah slept in the barn.”
“Why did ye sleep away from me? Am I no’ good enough for ye?” she asked.
Oidche looked startled for a moment, but the shock seemed to wear off quickly. “Ye’re good enough, ah just can’t force a lass to bed. Ah’ve never done that and ah won’t start.”
It was Malmuira’s time to be startled. “But ah agreed to bed ye when ah married ye.”
“Aye. Ye did. But ye were nervous and trembling. And ye married me to make peace, nothing more. Ah’ve talked to Lara by letter. She was candid about yer faither’s pressure to find a solution that appeased my faither. Ye married me to help yer clan, nothing more. Ye’ve done good by yer clan, but ah won’t let ye feel forced into going to bed with me.” He stepped closer, that primal look in his eyes again. Malmuira could feel the heat from his breath on her lip. “I want ye to beg me for it. Ah want ye to pull me into ye and revel in having me inside of ye.”
Malmuira felt her breath quicken and her body begin to throb. This was a new feeling and it took her breath away. Oidche reached over and slowly outlined the crease between her legs with light finger tips. He licked her bottom lip, then pressed his tongue into her open mouth. A small moan escaped her before she even knew what was happening.
Given to the Highlander (Highlander Bride Series Book 1) Page 2
