A Perfect Wife [Highland Menage 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Reece Butler

“Nay, my lady! We kenned why ye were fashed after Bertie’s kin tossed ye away, and why the laird’s new wife vexed ye. Ye did well after Lady Elizabeth passed, and Lady Silean hasna taken the same care.” Bessie hesitated. “Aye, there was a few what wished to give a bit back at ye, but naught like this!”

  Kiera was glad for Malcolm’s strong arm holding her to his warm chest. She’d blamed her weakness on the babe she carried, but her frustration, lack of sleep, and worry about what her father was likely telling her husbands had taken its toll as well.

  “Do I speak to Laird MacKenzie?” murmured Malcolm in her ear. “We had no women at Duncladach and shared what little we had. Jealousy is not something I ken well.”

  “When are we leaving?” she asked, pleased he’d looked to her for an answer. “I willna make Bessie take apart the bed and bring it here for a night or two.”

  “Ah, but they need to take it apart anyway,” said Duff. He winked. “It is going to Kinrowan for us to share.”

  Bessie blanched, then bobbed a curtsy. “My pardon, laird, I was told—”

  “’Tis not yer fault, Bessie,” said Malcolm. “Silean’s harpy will soon discover she doesna rule Castle Leod.” He tightened his hold on Kiera. “I am sure Laird MacKenzie will tell her so.”

  “He’s hankering for a battle as we saw no Rosses to fight,” added Duff with a chuckle.

  Bessie bobbed again. This time she was smiling. “I will gladly take yer orders, Laird Malcolm and Master Duff.”

  “Good. Laird MacKenzie said my wife is to take whatever she wishes.” Malcolm tilted his face to Kiera. “Yer father said ye’d like some of yer mother’s things. He’s also gifting ye with a chess set. There was none at Kinrowan, and he kens how ye enjoy losing.”

  “Losing? I beat Duff—”

  Malcolm’s quirked eyebrow stopped her response. She cleared her throat and looked away. She trembled in relief that her kin had not thought so badly of her as to attack once they knew she was leaving.

  “I want a thick pallet, big enough for the three of us, brought immediately,” ordered Malcolm. “Three chairs and a table, food, and a fire lit. We will need more hot water and a screen to keep in the heat from the fire. Tomorrow is soon enough for Kiera’s bed to be prepared for moving. Unless ye wish to take it from this Chisholm dragon now.”

  “’Twill be taken down during supper, Laird Malcolm. And glad I am of it!” Bessie scurried out, beaming.

  Malcolm kissed the top of Kiera’s head. He’d done it without thinking, as if she was now a part of his life. That, more than anything, warmed her heart.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I couldna sleep well on that hard floor.”

  “Did ye do as I ordered and keep from peaking?” asked Duff.

  Her face flamed. Malcolm’s arm rose from her waist to capture a breast. He gently squeezed, sending a promise.

  “Aye, I didna do it, though I wished to,” she admitted. Her husbands shared a smirk.

  She’d wanted to touch herself more than once those first few nights. She’d held back as she knew how difficult it would be to stop. She’d felt no need after her bed was taken. Now, ten days of wanting rushed to arouse her.

  “’Tis not sleep we plan to do after bathing,” said Malcolm. He caught her nipple between his splayed fingers. She inhaled a gasp.

  “Nay?” she managed to choke out. “And what is it you plan to do?”

  The sounds of approaching servants had him releasing her. Both men had changed while they were away. Duff seemed more serious. Malcolm had control before, now there was a power behind it that both aroused and frightened her.

  “What will we do with ye?” His low chuckle made her shiver. “Whatever we wish.”

  Chapter Three

  “What vexes you, husband?”

  Malcolm stopped pacing at Kiera’s soft question. She stood quietly, fingers clasped in front of her. The set of her hunched shoulders suggested she was not nearly as calm as she wished to appear. Nor was he.

  The truth was he wanted to rip her clothes off and plunge into her heat, but he couldn’t tell her that. Not when the servants were doing what he’d demanded, which was also why he was pacing back and forth rather than devouring his wife.

  “I am not used to standing by while others work,” he said. “We had no servants at Duncladach.”

  His words came out abrupt and harsh. She flinched, as if he’d hit her. He cursed, turning away. He wanted to explain that he’d not meant it as a complaint of her, but that was not something one said in front of servants. He knew she was no lily-fingered lady who gave orders but did nothing herself. Duff had told him all she’d done at the sheiling. During the long days of riding the men had spoken of how well she’d managed Castle Leod after her mother’s death.

  He leaned a callused palm on the stone wall and looked out, mainly to avoid Kiera’s hurt expression. MacKenzie said women were complicated and that a man could never understand them. Malcolm understood Kiera when they were alone in their chamber as husband and wife. He had no problem giving orders to men, and to servants. MacKenzie said his wife Silean was not only obedient, she did all she could to ease his way.

  Kiera may choose to be obedient, but she was not tractable by nature.

  A person, male or a female, who could not think and make decisions could not be a leader. Good hunting dogs and horses were trained to follow the orders of their master. The best would let the master know they’d sensed danger yet still follow orders. A mule was far harder to train, and if they sensed danger they would not obey. Was it that they were stubborn by nature, or were they more intelligent than horses?

  Kiera was more like a mule than a horse. Though stubborn, she still wished to be praised for obeying. Being intelligent and well schooled, she would have a greater desire to be part of decisions that affected her.

  He hadn’t liked how her father, and his laird, Somerled, had manoeuvred them into this marriage. It didn’t matter that it was what he wanted in the end. He would’ve liked to have had a say in the decision. Why would Kiera, just because she was female, feel any different?

  And because she was female he wanted her to kneel to him, submitting to her master. Not as an unthinking servant but as a woman who chose to be obedient because it pleased him, and pleasing him made her happy. They could do as they chose when alone in their chamber. They could act as three equals, discussing a subject. Or they could play as two husbands with a wife who’d promised obedience.

  It was with others that he was uncertain.

  With ten older brothers, most of whom were loud and demanding, he’d learned to be quiet while he worked. He had little trouble giving orders to men as he’d done so to the five youngest. He was still unsure how to treat women, other than Kiera, when alone.

  He’d paid close attention to how MacKenzie handled people at Castle Leod. The powerful man quietly coaxed and encouraged the shy. He loudly praised those deserving and quickly shut down the ones causing problems. Malcolm had done the same at Kinrowan. He’d seen how a quick smile by Duff could make a terrified child or uncertain servant relax enough to show a hesitant smile.

  “Laird MacKenzie had to remind us a few times at Kinrowan,” explained Duff. “Though it might be faster to do it ourselves it would be an insult, as if we dinna believe they could do the work. He said with time the Kinrowan servants would learn our ways.”

  “Oh,” replied Kiera. She turned to Duff, away from Malcolm. “When I was with Bertie the servants were forbidden to do anything for me. It was supposed to make me feel helpless but I'd cared for myself for years.” She looked down, wringing her hands. “Yet another thing to learn,” she murmured. She blew out her breath and then forced a smile. “Could you tell me of my new home?”

  “Ye ken how big it is, aye?” asked Duff. Kiera shook her head. “Did no one tell ye of yer dower home?”

  “I found out it was part of my dowry when I heard Dougal Chisholm gloating of what would be his when he married me. My father didna wish me le
arn of it.”

  “Why?” asked Duff.

  She looked down to brush off her skirts but Malcolm saw the pink tinge that lit her cheeks. “After Dougal humiliated me, and my other suitors were no different, I wished to have my own home. ’Tis why I married Bertie. When my father discovered I knew of Kinrowan, and that I was eager to get to my people, he forbid anyone speaking of it.” She raised her chin. “It didn’t stop me sending things I’d made.”

  “Like the spoons ye carved at the sheiling.”

  She nodded to Duff. “And the trinkets I was given by those wishing to bribe me to accept them as husband. I wished no reminders of that.”

  Her chin trembled. She looked away, no doubt to hide what she’d seen as weakness. Malcolm hadn’t realized how hurtful it must have been to have men wishing to claim her lands and body while rejecting the woman within. She’d been nothing to them but a means to gain property and a beautiful woman they could treat as they pleased.

  MacDougals had nothing but the land and walls of Duncladach. Archibald Campbell, the Earl of Argyll, only wanted it so he could claim the entire southwest of mainland Scotland. It was why he also wanted the land claimed by the Macnaughtons of Dunderaw and the MacGregors.

  It was at Kinrowan that Malcolm first experienced men wanting to curry his favor. He would have dismissed them with disgust but MacKenzie explained how such men would be insulted. It could turn them into an enemy, one with a smiling face and a dirk eager to stab in your back. So he’d learned to listen gravely to their concerns, nod wisely, and say he would think on it.

  MacKenzie said it was best to always speak true yet promise nothing. It also worked well for those with suggestions. Most meant well, the ideas not to feather their own nests but to improve life at Kinrowan. He learned much from them, whether he agreed or not. He’d learned at Castle Leod to temper his first impressions with knowledge before deciding on action. It was the same at Kinrowan, only more so. As he was their laird, if he absently expressed a wish for something it could lead to people believing he’d given an order. Luckily he rarely spoke without thinking of the consequences.

  Now he was a laird, the consequences could be dire. The men and women of Kinrowan looked to him to lead and guide them, caring for them as a father would his children. But they were not children. They were fighting men and strong women who would defend him and Kinrowan to their own deaths. It was a priceless gift, one that lay heavy on his shoulders. He did not wish to think on that now. He’d held back on his need to hold Kiera due to the servants, but they were gone.

  “They are good people,” he said to Kiera. The tremulous smile she gave him warmed his heart. “I did not mean to speak harshly.”

  He beckoned, and she came to him. She wrapped her arms around his chest, sighing in contentment as she held him tight. His arms came around her as if made for that purpose. She felt so good he let his tension ease. He’d looked forward to sinking into her heat, thinking that was the only way he would find ease. But merely having her hold him, trusting he’d care for her, met a different need. He was her husband and her laird. It was his right and duty to care for her, protecting and providing for her.

  While he was responsible for dozens at Kinrowan, and appreciated their trust in him, this was far different. Kiera was a part of him now. The connection was strong. Though it was different from what he felt with his twin, it was no less potent.

  “Oh, I have missed you, husband,” she murmured, squeezing him.

  “Aye,” he admitted.

  “I feel safe in your arms, as if I can let go of everything and just be.”

  She sniffled. Was she going to weep? Her father said tears were common while women were growing a babe. Was it only the babe, or did her trust in him allow her to release that tough mask she wore to protect herself from insults? He knew about masks. Since they were lads Duff had acted the laughing fool while he was the opposite, cold and grim. Only with each other had they shown their true selves.

  Duff’s responsibilities as steward meant he could no longer act the fool. And he, as laird, must show more of himself. No longer could he hide in shadows, watching from the corner. All looked to him for guidance at Kinrowan. MacKenzie said people needed to see the man behind the laird. He’d started slow as men wished to see their laird was strong. The women had dimpled and blushed at the few compliments he’d given, praise for their work. He needed practice and would start with Kiera, while they were alone in their chamber.

  Malcolm’s heart thudded at the thought of Kiera’s ridicule, but he must trust her, as she did him. Showing his true self to anyone but Duff was dangerous but he must let her see the parts he kept hidden.

  “When they took everything from here and shunned me I felt so bad,” she said, speaking to his shirt, hiding her face. “I have said things I am not proud of. It made me ashamed so I hid in my chamber, silent.” She sighed. “I have a wee temper, and when angry I dinna think afore I speak.” Another sigh, this one even deeper. “I will do all I can to be a perfect wife for you, to be the Lady of Kinrowan and make you proud, but I may not always bite my tongue.”

  Her words hung heavy in the silence. He noted the last servant leaving had closed the door. Duff removed his mask and stepped behind Kiera, sandwiching her between them.

  “If ye promise to nibble and more to make up for yer bursts of temper, we may forgive ye.” Duff rubbed his groin against her arse. “What say ye, laird?”

  “Aye, nibbling and whatnot may make us forgive much,” he replied, his tone light.

  A quiet giggle, followed by a sniffle, suggested Kiera’s mood had improved. He had one more solemn thing to say before they played. He’d been overwhelmed since discovering what marriage to Kiera meant. He needed a refuge from it.

  “I am not yer laird when we are alone in our chamber,” he said. “We must have a place to speak freely. Laird MacKenzie warned me many would say what they thought I wished to hear. I need to ken the two of ye will always speak true.” Duff nodded over Kiera’s head. “I want no lies, mistruths, or refusal to tell all.”

  Kiera tilted her head up at that. In this light her eyes were more green than brown. They also sparkled. He braced himself for a touch of her devilry.

  “If you are not laird, then I can say and do as I wish.”

  “While I am no laird in here, I am still yer husband.” He lifted an eyebrow sternly. “The one ye vowed to obey, aye?”

  The green in her eyes deepened like the ocean before a storm. She tried to back up but Duff’s chest was tight against her back. His hands would have held her even without his twin’s help. She dropped her eyes, her cheeks turning pink.

  “Um, yes.” She cleared her throat. “There is that.”

  “Time for a bath,” said Duff.

  She nodded briskly. “Right. Who shall I bathe first?”

  Malcolm needed no words from Duff to understand. “Our wife is first for the tub,” he said.

  “Me?” She looked from him to Duff. “Do you not wish to ease the dust from your travels while the water is hot?”

  Malcolm drew a knuckle over a cobweb in her hair. “We wish to ease the dust from our wife first. Then ye can wash certain parts, which we will then fill ye with.”

  Her blush deepened. He released Kiera and backed up, allowing his cock to rise. The relief was immediate. From Duff’s expression, he was in the same state.

  “Ye have until the count of ten to get naked,” he ordered.

  Chapter Four

  “Ten?”

  Malcolm nodded at Kiera’s shrill question.

  “Now eight.”

  Her hands flew to her dusty apron. Once gone, he realized how old and shabby her gown underneath was. He was not one to waste money on elegance but he did wish Kiera to dress comfortably, and well. They’d met with the Kinrowan housekeeper for a quick tour. Mistress Hetty said there were chests of clothes in the attics if his lady wife wished to use them. Then she’d blushed, stammering an apology that of course the laird may wish to b
uy something new. She’d finished with the warning that they’d not find cloth befitting a lady except at the annual fair, so should bring what they needed.

  Malcolm watched her body appear. Had her breasts grown? Her erect nipples seemed darker. He closed his eyes to stop himself from reaching for her. MacKenzie said it would be months until her belly swelled. He’d then asked if she was even more eager for tupping. Malcolm had scowled, refusing to answer. The old laird had laughed, saying her mother had only been eager when with child so he liked to keep her that way. Kiera was their twelfth.

  “Done!”

  She panted, proud in nothing but her kerchief. God, she was beautiful!

  “One,” he said as if finishing his count. He couldn’t stay away from her any longer. As he approached she straightened her back, lifting her breasts. He didn’t think she did it to entice him as much as to show her determination. Avoiding the jiggling temptation he lifted the square pinned to the top of her head. “What of this?”

  She snatched the proof of her marriage from his hand and tossed it aside. “I keep forgetting that since I never wore one afore.”

  “No?”

  “Bertie’s parents didna wish a reminder that we were married. When I returned here my father was the same. No one spoke of my marriage until Duff.”

  “I would like to hear of it.” He reached for her braid. “Later. We have more important things to do.”

  Duff’s plaid hit the floor with a thud. She jumped, turning at the noise. Her eyes widened. Like his own, Duff’s body was covered in greenish-yellow bruises.

  “Who tried to hurt you?”

  “Every man in the garrison from Ramsay the Keeper, on down,” replied Duff. “Good thing ’twas only wasters they used.” He winced. “Wooden swords willna cut, but they bruise well.”

  “They tested you.”

  “They tested all of us.” Duff snickered. “Yer father took on three of the youngest lads at once. One got through and stabbed him in the arse with the point of his waster. The laddie’s seven, and had only been there a few weeks.”