“These are your clothes in here?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together to show his confusion.
“Aye, my lord.”
Alexander looked once more at the dismal woolen gowns. Where was all the finery that befitted the daughter of a clan chief? Her sister-by-marriage had been wearing the most luxurious velvet. At her waist, there had hung a girdle of gold. In fact, now that he thought about it, the other woman, Margaret, had also been dressed in a far richer fashion than Ailis and his understanding was that she was a mere companion to the MacDonnell women. He couldn’t believe that this was all the clothing Ailis owned. The MacDonnell lands were rich and fertile, their harvests abundant. The clan was wealthy and its laird powerful. So, it seemed, that Ailis’ father had indeed been neglectful of his only daughter’s needs. Alexander resolved to do something to remedy her sparse wardrobe immediately. First thing in the morning, he would send for the finest French silks to have more fitting gowns made for her.
With no other option available, he held up the most acceptable garment he could find, a blue surcote with gold embroidery on its sleeves.
“This is the best you have?”
Ailis nodded. “Aye, it was my mother’s.”
Alexander felt a pang of regret that he may have sounded as though he was sneering at the threadbare garment.
“But there’s no kirtle to match it,” she added ruefully.
“Kirtle?” Truly, women’s clothing was a mystery to Alexander. All he knew was that they tended to wear too much of the damned stuff.
“Yes, to wear beneath it,” Ailis said.
“I see.” Alexander shook his head. This really would not do. He was a wealthy man, a member of the powerful de Moray family who were counted amongst the king’s closest allies. His wife could not be seen at court in clothes that the lowliest kitchen maid would be ashamed to wear. “Is there nothing else you can put on?”
“I suppose,” Ailis bit her lip, looking quite unsure of herself, “I could wear a simple white chemise under the surcote. Edane will disapprove, no doubt, but it might not look so bad.”
“A white chemise,” Alexander repeated as he rummaged in the trunk. He found a clean-looking white undershirt and passed it to Ailis along with the surcote. Ailis took the garments from him and held them close to her chest as she fixed him with an expectant look.
“Put them on,” Alexander instructed curtly when she made no move to dress.
Ailis raked her teeth over her bottom lip.
“Will you turn away?” she asked.
“No.” Alexander’s response was firm. “I am about to become your husband. You must accustom yourself to being unclothed in my presence.”
Ailis said nothing, but he could tell she wasn’t happy. He watched as she pulled the tunic off over her head. Her skin was pale and unblemished, but he barely had time to admire the swell of her milky white breasts, the curve of her hips, before she slipped on the linen undershirt. She put the surcote on over it and fastened it quickly before running her fingers through her long, dark hair. She looked incredible and he hoped that she would not cover her hair once they were married as women tended to do once they were no longer maidens.
“Beautiful,” he said as she turned to him. From the way she blushed and looked to the floor, he could tell that she was unused to compliments. It seemed almost a crime that nobody had praised her as she deserved before now. Alexander smiled and held his hand out to her. “Come now, Ailis, it is time we were wed.”
Chapter Seven
Ailis dutifully repeated the solemn oaths that would forever bind her to Alexander de Moray, but she barely gave any thought to the words she spoke or the implications they had for her future happiness. She was so distracted by the throbbing heat of her poor, abused bottom that she could think of little else. Shifting from one foot to the other, she tried desperately to alleviate her suffering. Every time she moved, the coarse fabric of her linen chemise rubbed against her skin, reminding her of each masterful stroke of Alexander’s belt. The man certainly knew how to inflict a punishment.
The experience of being taken to task by Alexander had been mortifying and she was aware that she had screeched like a scalded cat as the blows fell. From the knowing looks everyone was giving her, it seemed they all knew exactly what Alexander had done to her. Even the priest gave her a wink laden with understanding as they entered the chapel. What stung more bitterly than the belt itself had was that everyone seemed to approve of Alexander punishing her.
She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t even realize the ceremony was over until Alexander took her hand and raised it to his lips. He placed the gentlest of kisses on her palm, a gesture that seemed uncharacteristically tender for a man like him. Blinking her way back to the here and now, Ailis looked up into Alexander’s eyes to find them glowing with possessive intent. Bending to whisper in her ear, he spoke a single word that froze her to the bone. Mine.
As he led her from the chapel, Ailis felt her brow begin to sweat. It was customary to partake of a great feast once the marriage rites had been performed, but there had been no time to organize anything like that. Nor, for that matter, was there food available for a banquet. She doubted they even had wine suitable to toast the occasion in their much-depleted stores. Not that she really felt there was anything worth raising a glass to. As far as she was concerned, this marriage was no reason to celebrate.
In the absence of provisions for a feast, Ailis worried that Alexander intended to take her straight to the bedchamber to consummate the marriage. Although she knew the time must come, and soon, for her to give herself to him, she was not quite ready to face that ordeal. She relaxed, fractionally, when she realized he was leading her into the great hall. She doubted even he would want to take her for the first time with an audience in attendance.
“We shall arrange a banquet within the next few days,” Alexander decreed. “But a small celebration is in order tonight. We brought some wine with us from our family’s ancestral home in Normandy. That will have to suffice for now.”
Ailis inclined her head in acknowledgement, trying her best to appear composed. She didn’t want to give any hint of how scared she was in case he decided to use her fear as a weapon against her. Until she knew for certain what type of man her new husband was, she wanted to try to mask her emotions as best she could. So far, she wasn’t making a very good job of it, but she would work on that.
She stood at Alexander’s side in front of the dais where the laird’s table sat and waited for the others to approach. One by one, they would come to offer their felicitations, as tradition dictated. The first person to offer his congratulations was Adam de Moray, who pulled Ailis into his arms and hugged her so tightly she wondered if he was trying to squeeze the life out of her.
“Welcome to the family, Ailis de Moray,” he said with genuine warmth. He pushed her back a little, so she was at arm’s length, and studied her closely. “The name suits you well.”
“Aye, it does,” Alexander said, “but not as well as MacDonnell does. I have decided we shall both take the name of her people.”
Adam de Moray’s smile signaled his approval of the gesture, but Ailis hardly knew what to make of it. Her new husband turned to her and studied her with searching eyes.
“If it pleases my lady, of course.”
“Well, yes.” Ailis was stunned that he would make such a significant offer. Relinquishing his surname in favor of hers was no small thing. Although suspicious of his motives, she was not about to refuse the opportunity to remain a MacDonnell. “It pleases me a great deal.”
“Good.” Alexander smiled and squeezed her hand. “Then we shall, henceforth, be styled Lord Alexander Matthew de Moray MacDonnell and Lady Ailis de Moray MacDonnell.”
“Well, that’s a hell of a mouthful,” Iain de Moray remarked in a sour tone.
Involuntarily, Ailis shrank back as he stepped toward her. If she found Alexander intimidating, then his younger brother was truly terrifying. He took her hand
and bowed to kiss it, a courtly gesture that seemed remarkably unchivalrous. There was something threatening about the way he pressed his hard lips to her soft skin. As he rose, he met the light in her eyes with the intense darkness of his own and Ailis could not help but shudder.
“Welcome to the family, sister.”
The words should have been friendly, but there was some warning in them that Ailis couldn’t quite discern. She did her best to smile, but Iain scared her witless with his permanently glowering expression and the air of pure malice he seemed to direct primarily at her.
“He is not so bad once you get to know him,” Alexander assured her as his brother backed away and her own family came forward.
Ailis nodded but she doubted she could ever feel at ease with that man. She relaxed a little as first Margaret and then Niall offered their congratulations. Knowing that there were likely impediments to a permanent union between them because of the ambitions of Margaret’s father to match her with a wealthy man, she resisted the urge to tell them it would be their turn next.
As they stepped back, Edane came forward and placed a perfunctory kiss on Ailis’ cheek. There was a distinct lack of sincerity in her voice as she expressed the hope that they would live a long and happy life together. In fact, Ailis got the distinct impression that the other woman was silently cursing them to suffer the exact opposite. Seeming to pick up on the hostility, Alexander placed his hand on Ailis’ back and rubbed it reassuringly. It was surprisingly comforting.
Finally, Ruaridh stepped up and, for the first time that evening, Ailis gave a genuine smile. Her younger brother looked so handsome in his finest clothes, so adorable as he gave a courteous little bow. He straightened up and fixed his stare on Alexander, apparently unfazed by the man’s imposing stature.
“Does this mean you’re going to stay at our castle?” he asked Alexander.
“It is Lord Alexander’s castle now,” Ailis said quietly.
Ruaridh’s brow furrowed. “Is it?”
“Aye, lad, it is. I am laird here now.”
“Because Gregor is gone, and you married our sister?” Ruaridh asked.
“Aye, that’s just so.”
The little boy nodded, seeming to accept what he was being told without question. How easy it was when you were so young and innocent of the world. Ailis envied his ability to adapt.
“Is it true you’ve slain a thousand men?” Ruaridh asked.
Ailis looked warily at Alexander, not knowing whether he would be insulted by the question. Although he was undoubtedly a fearsome warrior, the tales of his terrible deeds had been greatly exaggerated. At least, Ailis thought they must have been.
“No, lad,” Alexander replied with a slight smile, “but I have fought in more battles than I care to count.”
The answer clearly didn’t satisfy Ruaridh’s thirst for gory detail. His forehead crumpled, and his little lips pursed. Ailis dreaded to think what might be going through his head now.
“Will you show me how to chop a man’s head off?” he asked with the bloodthirsty enthusiasm only a six-year-old boy could muster.
“No,” Alexander said, his lips twitching with obvious amusement. “We don’t want to give your sister any ideas.”
Ailis snorted. As if she needed any help on that score! If she wanted to lop off his head or that other body part men seemed to be overly fond of, she would manage just fine without any instruction.
“But,” Alexander continued, “I will teach you how to use a sword properly if you promise to take your training seriously. There is a time and place for wielding a sword and you must be willing to learn that lesson well.”
Ruaridh nodded and a huge grin broke out on his face. Whatever words of congratulation Margaret had undoubtedly coached him to offer were clearly forgotten as he ran off to tell Niall that Alexander had offered to train him in combat.
“You would really teach him?” Ailis asked, knowing that it would take time and patience to help Ruaridh to master a sword. It was not a task their older brother would ever have been willing to undertake.
“I would not have said it otherwise,” Alexander responded. “You will find I am nothing if not a man of my word.”
That was something Ailis had already come to realize. Alexander appeared to be the type of man who would fulfil any promise he made or, for that matter, carry out any threat he issued. Unsure of what to say or do next, she was glad when one of the servants approached to hand Alexander the shallow gold quaich from which they would take it in turns to sip.
He cleared his throat loudly and the chatter around them stopped.
“To my bride,” Alexander called out. “Lady Ailis de Moray MacDonnell.”
“Lady Ailis!” the small assembled group cried out in response.
Alexander took a sip of wine from the ceremonial bowl and everyone drank from their goblets. Ailis put her hand out to take the ornate drinking vessel from Alexander, but he surprised her by raising it to her lips and holding it for her to sip from. The wine was rich and sweet, but it might as well have been cat’s piss for all she cared. She could think of nothing but the horror that was to come, the moment when he ripped away her virginity. As though he’d read her thoughts, Alexander grinned and turned to their family members once more.
“I believe it is time my bride retired for the night,” he announced. “Ladies, will you see her to the bedchamber.”
Ailis swallowed hard. The time had come for the women of the household to take her upstairs and prepare her for the marital bed. It was the custom, she knew that, and it was necessary to consummate the marriage as soon as possible, but she still wasn’t ready. When she made no move to leave, Alexander put his hand at the small of her back and urged her forward. Margaret and Edane hurried to her side and together they walked from the room.
* * *
As the women disappeared from sight, Alexander couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. That Ailis had behaved herself throughout the performance of the marriage rites was nothing short of miraculous. He’d half-expected her to try to bolt for the door partway through, but it seemed that, for now, she had learned her lesson. He didn’t delude himself that she would be the perfect, docile wife from this point forward, but perhaps she would settle down a little. He didn’t really want her to become completely tame. There was a spark in Ailis that made her unpredictable and he found it more appealing than he would have expected.
“It’s time wee Ruaridh was in his bed,” Niall said suddenly. “I’ll see him to his chambers.”
The little boy did not hide his disappointment at being removed from the gathering, but a stern look from Niall told him to comply. Alexander doubted that putting the lad to bed was one of the man’s regular duties, but he supposed that today had not been easy for the proud MacDonnell warrior. He probably needed an excuse to slip away. It must have pained him to see the daughter of his laird, the man to whom he had sworn undying loyalty, married off to an enemy. It crossed Alexander’s mind that he should send Niall away, that the man might be a threat, but he decided to give him a chance to prove he could adapt to a change of leadership.
“Sleep well, lad,” Alexander said to Ruaridh who, he supposed, was now his ward. He would need to treat the boy carefully. Gregor MacDonnell was still out there somewhere waiting for a chance to try to reclaim his ancestral home and Alexander didn’t want Ruaridh to grow up and present another challenge to his lairdship.
“And you,” the little boy returned.
“Sleep’s the last thing on his mind,” Iain said in a mocking tone, earning himself a clout round the ear from Adam.
As Ruaridh and Niall left the room, Alexander sank into a seat by the fireplace. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and took a massive gulp of wine.
“Although,” Iain continued unabashed, “I can’t say you look too keen to get to your wee virgin bride.”
Alexander shot him a warning look. He didn’t want to discuss his apprehension about taking Ailis for the f
irst time with his brothers. He knew that claiming her virginity was something that had to done with care.
“I saw you glancing at the Lady Margaret more than once,” Adam said to Iain in an obvious attempt to divert the conversation before the brothers came to blows.
Alexander looked at his younger brother in surprise. It was a long time since Iain had shown any real interest in a woman. Since the murder of his wife, he hadn’t seemed to care about anything but the next battle.
“Why not?” Iain scowled. “She’s a pretty lass.”
“She is that. Shame she’s MacDonnell’s woman,” Adam commented.
“There’s no contract between them,” Iain replied in a sullen tone, inadvertently letting his brothers know that he had given some thought to pursuing the lady. “But she’s not my type. Too demure. Give me the camp whores any day.”
“Aye,” Alexander agreed. “There’s nothing like a lass who knows how to suck a man’s cock and asks for nothing but a few coins in return.”
“You do realize that your new bride will know nothing of such things,” Adam said with a note of caution in his voice. “She will need love, affection, tenderness. You cannot treat her like one of your Jezebels. Fuck her by all means, but treat her kindly, and see to her pleasure as well as your own.”
“Thank you for the advice, big brother,” Alexander snarled. He might not be the most sensitive of men, but he did realize that Ailis was unlike the other women he’d been with. She would be his first virgin and he understood quite well that he would have to be more careful with her than he was accustomed to being.
“And there can be no more dalliances with other women,” Adam said firmly. “You must honor the vows you made to her.”
Alexander nodded, although he didn’t particularly agree with his brother’s stance on marriage. Adam was disgustingly besotted with his wife, even after ten years. He doted on her like an overeager puppy and remained utterly faithful to her even when on military campaign.
His Conquered Bride Page 7
