by Ashley York
His sloppy kiss on her wrist was followed by one to her palm. “Lovely lady, I look forward to seeing ye again.”
Finally released, Tisa quickly accepted Darragh’s hand. He led them out through the center aisle, between the rows of tables overflowing with people she did not know. Each one of them watched as they exited the back door. As soon as it closed behind them, the hall erupted with conversation. Speculation, no doubt, at what had just transpired.
Tisa rubbed her wet palm on her skirt and followed Darragh who stomped toward their little house. She refused to look when she heard the door open behind them. If it was Breandan following, she would give him a piece of her mind.
Once within, Darragh tossed his belt and sword onto the chest in obvious irritation. “Why must that man always push me?”
“Yer father?”
“Nae, that islander. I dunna understand why my father took up with him.”
“‘Nae?” Tisa was glad to be out of the hall and away from everyone watching them. It seemed like every husbandly gesture toward her resulted in murmurs throughout the hall.
Darragh dismissed her with a gesture. “Ye dunna understand how things work.”
Tisa’s stomach clenched. “Methinks ye dunna understand.”
He turned on her, his mouth opened in a nasty scowl. “What do ye mean? Did I not wait on ye? And kiss ye? In front of everyone?”
“And watched as Breandan deliberately flirted with that other man just to make ye jealous?”
Darragh stomped to the fire, scattering the ashes when he dropped a heavy piece of wood into the center. “He does it just to anger me.”
“But ye’re not supposed to respond!” Tisa blew out a breath. “Darragh, ye must be more careful. I ken ye only want Breandan. I will not be demanding of yer time or attention but I am yer wife. I dunna wish to be accosted by yer father. Or that islander. To keep them away from me, ye have to pretend ye want me.”
A heavy knock on the door that didn’t sound at all like Breandan’s gave Darragh something else to turn his anger on. Tisa pulled on his arm before he could get to the door.
“Please remember to act as if ye desire my attention.”
A short nod and Darragh yanked open the door.
Malcolm stood there, his eyes narrowed as he looked first at her and then at Darragh.
“Yer father has sent me.”
“For what purpose?”
Malcolm glanced at Tisa. “All that whispering and ye dinna even mention me?”
Tisa’s face heated and she turned away.
“We have other things to discuss!” Darragh said. Clearly, he struggled to compose himself before confronting this newest threat to their arrangement. “I will not ask again.”
Tisa knew Malcolm’s eyes were still on her. She could feel them boring into her.
“I am to stay here,” Malcolm said.
Darragh opened his mouth to protest but closed it just as quickly. He must have remembered the earlier agreement.
“Fine. Sleep there!” He pointed to the front of the room, not a curtained alcove. “And stay out of my way.”
Her husband swept her up into his arms and carried her behind the heavy curtain opposite the door. His body was tight with anger and the pent up need for release. Release that he would no longer be able to see to with Malcolm present and he must have realized it. He dropped her onto the pallet and followed her, covering her body with his own. She dared not speak.
A new fear sprang to life inside her. The memories of their wedding night.
“Please do not. Yer anger is not with me,” she spoke against his ear.
“I’ll do whatever I choose. Ye are the wife. I am the husband.”
He reached beneath her shoulders to pull at the ties of her bliaut along her back.
“Nae. Please, Darragh. I beg ye.”
“Dunna beg. It does not become ye.”
He shoved the shoulders of the gown down her arms. Then, as if finding it too difficult, he reached beneath her skirts.
She clamped her mouth shut.
Her chemise ripped at his insistent tugging.
Tears of humiliation dampened her cheeks. “Please. Do not.”
Darragh stood. “Then just take them off.”
He had not kept his voice quiet and his tone indicated he was not a happy man.
Anger seethed inside. She stood and yanked the gown over her head, followed by the chemise. Her feelings mattered not at all to this man. Despite her willingness to participate in his little pretense, he would use her to vent his own frustration.
Naked now, he didn’t even look on her. Shame flooded her but she also feared how far he would go. When a man raped a woman, it had little to do with desire and more to do with control.
When he did finally look upon her, her stomach dropped. His gaze started at her feet then traveled slowly up her legs to pause at the patch of downy hair. “Lay down.”
His words still loud enough for Malcolm to hear, trepidation filled the space where her stomach had been. She needed to stop him from taking them down this path. The path to their destruction.
“Those are not words of love, husband.” Tisa spoke in a coaxing, playful tone, hoping to say the words that could still keep their true relationship a secret. “Touch me the way I like so that we may lay together.”
He pierced her with his look, his forehead lined. Stepping toward him, she held herself nearer him but avoided his touch. She widened her eyes, wordlessly begging him to change his course.
“Oh, yes. That is my husband’s touch.” She spoke the words nuzzling into his leine but loud enough for her voice to travel. “Lay with me now.”
She pulled him down with her. He appeared dumbfounded on how to react.
“Come quickly to me,” she said.
Keeping his hands well away from her where she lay beside him, she bounced lightly against the pallet. Not really sure how long something like this would take, she stopped after a moment. Darragh’s eyes widened as if affronted and rocked against the pallet quite a bit longer.
Darragh pulled the cover over her naked body. The tension in his body had lessened. His expression was sad and he put his lips near her ears. “Sweet little Tisa. I have mistreated ye again.”
His tone had lost its sharpness. This storm had passed. She let out the breath that had been trapped inside like a cowering beast.
“Forgive me. Ye are verily correct. My anger is not yer doing.”
She nodded.
The door opened. They both froze in place.
“Darragh!” It was Breandan. “What are ye doing here?”
From the contempt in his voice, Tisa would say Breandan was speaking to Malcolm.
“This is where I have been sent to stay. And ye?” Just as irritated a tone.
“I stay here as well,” Breandan answered, his voice quiet.
“I am to stay here as well.” It was Caireann.
Tisa sat up in the bed. “Caireann!”
She called out without thinking. Darragh dove beneath the covers before the curtain was lifted. Breandan, Caireann, and Malcolm stood there, looking in at them. She reached a naked arm out over the covers to reach toward Caireann.
“Come!” Tisa opened her arms and Caireann obliged but Tisa didn’t miss the sad look on her face. “My dear girl. I am so glad to see ye.”
Breandan’s glare appeared over Caireann’s shoulder as he looked down at her. Tisa pulled away. Malcolm stood there as well. She stretched her arm across Darragh in what she hoped appeared an affectionate gesture and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“If ye could give us a minute, we will be out anon. Malcolm, help Caireann get water heating.”
“Aye, mistress, happy I am to help the lovely lady.” Malcolm smiled at Caireann who averted her eyes, a light pink spreading across her face.
The curtain was dropped again. Darragh yanked Tisa’s arm off him. “Ye go too far.”
Angry again. No doubt because of the crestfallen
expression of his lover. “We need to convince Malcolm. That is all. I will explain it to Breandan.”
Darragh stood beside the bed.
“Wait.” Tisa called out to him. It would not do for him to appear fully clothed too soon. “A kiss, my love.”
She shrugged and motioned him closer.
“Methinks it takes some time for ye to don yer clothes,” she said the words on a breath.
He appeared confused but then smiled. “My thanks, wife.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Has it taken long enough yet?”
She shrugged again.
Darragh made a loud yawn, no doubt for the listeners on the other side. “Breandan, see to a bath for me.”
Her jaw dropped.
“Two can play at this game,” he whispered with a wink and joined the others.
CHAPTER TEN
~
“That canna be too hot!”
Malcolm seemed ready to explode. He had been going back and forth with Darragh on the water temperature for his bath nigh on an hour. Just when it seemed Breandan had the right amount of cold added, Darragh would insist it was too cold. That required the whole heating process to begin anew.
Tisa couldn’t help but think how feminine it seemed for him to be carrying on about the water. Being with the MacNaughton men from a very young age, she assumed men did not complain. When young Brighit found fault with the hotness of the water, they started making her bathe last. By that time, the water was so cold—and dirty—that she learned to not complain. Tisa assumed that was the way men handled things. But that was a very long time ago.
Brighit was a bit younger than her. They grew up together and were always close. When they were very small, they made mud pies at the river’s edge while their older brothers, including Tadhg, played in the water. Even then, he had been protective of his own and that included Tisa. They had been betrothed much earlier. She knew what it was to be his. He’d punched his much larger brother in the face for teasing Tisa. She couldn’t remember exactly what he had said but Tadhg had stood up for her. He’d demanded Aedan apologize. So strong and brave. She’d believed he would always be there to protect her. She had been wrong.
What made some men want to protect and other men just see to their own desires?
“Enough!” Malcolm dumped the last of the boiling water into the tub which was near to overflowing. “Yer bath. Do with it as ye please.” He dropped the iron pot beside the hearth with a loud bang and went through the door the same way.
Darragh, who wore nothing but a cloth wrapped around his waist, burst into a smile.
Breandan fell against him, his eager mouth seeking his.
Caireann’s jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. She appeared ready to scream.
Tisa held up her hand. “Do not!” She moved closer to her shocked friend. “Check to see that Malcolm does not return.”
Bewilderment overcame her shock but Caireann opened the door the slightest crack to look out. She shook her head, her eyes avoiding the couple hanging on to each other beside the tub.
“Good.”
Darragh’s hands were all over Breandan, yanking at his clothes. His own cloth had already dropped, his hardened shaft quite large. His mouth slurped over Breandan’s as if he were trying to eat him up.
The intensity of their emotions was singeing Tisa and the forcefulness of it was making it hard to breathe. “Please. Darragh, not here.”
They were far too involved and desperate for relief to hear her. Breandan was going to his knees when Tisa pushed them toward the rear space.
“Go! In there!”
Darragh was only lucid long enough to give her a dirty look and then they tumbled behind the curtain.
Caireann watched at the door, her face a bright red at what they could hear taking place in the other room.
“Mayhap we should just put the bar to the door,” Tisa said.
Caireann lifted the heavy board, dropping it into place. The guttural sounds of pleasure were overwhelming in the small space.
“He likes both men and women?” Caireann asked.
“Nae. He does not like women.”
“But yer bedding. So much blood.”
Tisa shook her head. “Nae. Darragh made it appear as if the deed had been done.”
“Oh.”
A loud, rhythmic pounding from behind the tapestry. Tisa did not exactly understand how men coupled and she’d prefer not to know. It took a minute for her to discern the sound of knocking on the door.
She went to the curtain but refused to lift it. “Darragh.” Please hear me. “Darragh, someone is at the door.”
No response except for Breandan’s high-pitched moan of pleasure.
“Darragh!” She spoke louder. Damn. She closed her eyes and stuck her head behind the curtain. “Someone is at the door.”
“What?” It was Darragh. “Quick! Get yerself covered.”
Darragh dropped himself into the wooden tub, the water sloshing over the sides onto the dirt floor covered with the soiled rushes. He leaned back, a calm expression on his face. If not for his heavy breathing, one would believe he’d merely been soaking in the tub.
Breandan came in, his clothes righted, to sit beside the far side of the hearth, well away from the wooden tub.
Tisa sat on the stool beside her husband. She grabbed the cloth hanging over the edge and leaned forward to rub his chest.
Caireann pulled the door open.
Aodh paused at the open door. “Did ye not hear me knocking?”
“Beg pardon. I did not.”
The man walked into the room and paused. With narrowed eyes, he surveyed the room, missing nothing. Darragh’s breathing had eased and he ran his fingers through the water, a quiet smile on his face. Tisa glanced toward Breandan, also sitting peacefully. Apparently there had been time enough.
“Where is my man?”
“Methinks he went to see to nature’s call,” Darragh answered without looking at his father.
He missed the angry scowl but Tisa did not.
“And is that what ye were doing, son? Seeing to yer nature’s call?”
Darragh shrugged. “Nae. Taking a soak is all.”
“Ah, yea, yer soaks. I believe that was the very first time ye were poked. I ken I never should have trusted that man.”
Darragh finally faced him. “Enough, Father.” His angry expression matched his tone.
Aodh was again belittling his son but it was that flash of pain on Darragh’s face that squeezed her heart. His father’s words were meant to be cruel.
Tisa had the strong urge to protect her husband. “Father, what do ye here?”
Aodh stepped closer and traced his fingers along the side of her face.
She stiffened.
“Ah, Tisa. Ever the dutiful wife. I wish to sit with ye awhile.”
“Me?”
Aodh directed Caireann to bring the stool. Once settled, he stroked his long beard, running his eyes over her with slow deliberation.
“Yea, Tisa. We have much to discuss.”
The man was going to break their agreement! Panic took a firm grip of her, heightening her senses. The scratching of the tree limb against the back wall. The water dripping from the iron pot tipped on its side where Malcolm had dropped it. The hissing of the fire as the sap escaped the bark. The rosy smell of the soap Darragh used. The scum on the water that clung to the wooden sides.
Darragh bent his knees up and took the cloth from her trembling hand. His kind eyes on her face, he smiled as if for reassurance. Did he not realize what his father was about to do?
“What trouble are ye about to cause now?” Darragh asked.
His undisguised irritation stiffened Tisa’s back. Mayhap the man had a plan.
“Son. Ye dunna fool anyone with yer claim of enjoying women. Even Ronan can see through yer pretense.”
Caireann’s quick intake of air filled the quiet space. Tisa’s eyes widened in warning and she gave a quick shake to her head.
; “He believes whatever ye tell him! That man is a horse’s arse.” Darragh squeezed the water from the cloth, dispersing more soap scum to the side. “And I dunna claim to enjoy women.” He rubbed the cloth across his hair-covered chest. “I need only enjoy one.” He offered Tisa a sincere, radiant smile. “And I do enjoy this one. Quite a lot. Mayhap more than I should.”
Tisa couldn’t help but smile. Of course he enjoyed her. She enabled his trysts and even covered for him. “And I enjoy ye, husband.”
Aodh’s mouth curved into a disdainful grimace. He heaved a heavy sigh. “Ronan has brought up some things we need to consider before the arrival of the Godwin. I wish to speak to ye without his presence.”
“Is that why ye encouraged him to over imbibe? Resulting in his accosting my wife?”
“The desire to accost yer wife does not require over imbibing.”
Tisa stood beside the tub opposite his father. She tired of the man’s inappropriate comments. “Am I the topic ye came to discuss?”
“Nae, but the mere sight of ye does, indeed, set my balls to tightening and my rod to grow stiff.”
“Father!” Darragh sat up straighter. More water sloshed onto the ground. “We dunna care to ken about the condition of yer balls or yer prick. Get on with the reason ye’ve come.”
Aodh gave his son a tolerant smile before turning to Tisa. “Do ye ken as a child, he was my constant shadow? And I? His hero.” He shook his head in a defeated manner. “Now look at him.”
Tisa dropped beside the tub, caressed her hand along Darragh’s shoulders, and looked deep into his eyes. “Aye. He looks fine to me.”
Darragh gripped her chin and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. She opened her mouth to him, even pressing herself against the tub as if she could not get close enough to him. His strong hand held her head, urging her closer still, moving his mouth over hers as if overcome with desire. Aodh cleared his throat. They parted slightly after a moment. Tisa would swear Darragh wore the expression of a victor. Then he winked and released her.
Confusion was evident on the older man’s face. Doubt was a very good thing.
“What do we need to discuss?” Darragh followed Tisa with his eyes as she sat on the stool again, her needlework now in hand, before turning his attention to his father.
