Just Beyond Tomorrow

by Bertrice Small

  “Ye may be tall like yer da and yer brothers, and ye may hae their red hair,” Una observed, “but ye hae yer mother’s face, lassie. Meg was a beautiful woman, she was. Ye hae clear skin, fine eyes, and a mouth fashioned for kissing. The duke will nae be unhappy wi’ ye.

  “Now, listen to me, Flanna. When the time comes for yer husband to bed ye, lie quietly and let him do all the work. It will hurt ye a bit when he goes into ye the first time, but ’tis a momentary discomfort. Afterward, if he’s good at what he does, ye may even gain some pleasure from it, but even if ye dinna, tell him ye did. All men like to believe they are peerless lovers, lassie. There’s nae harm in letting them think they are.”

  “Are my brothers good lovers?” Flanna boldly asked her six sisters-in-law. Her gaze swept them. Then she laughed wickedly at their discomfort. Una looked very displeased with her. Flanna knew she was itching to smack her, but would not allow the others to believe she was annoyed. Ailis, Peggie, Eileen, Mona, and Sorcha were all red-faced.

  “Behave yerself, ye little bitch,” Una snapped. “Because ye’re to be a duchess doesna mean ye can be rude to us. Aulay hae never disappointed me in our bedsport, and I’m certain his brothers hae done well by their wives,” she defended the others. “Now, lassie, mind yer mouth, and down on yer knees, all of ye. We will pray for Flanna’s happiness, and that she gies her husband a fine son in nine months’ time.”

  “Gie over, Una,” Flanna said pertly. “I am nae used to the idea of a husband yet, and ye’re already speaking of bairns.”

  “A male heir will solidify yer position, lassie,” her sister-in-law said sagely. “If ye’re wise, Flanna Brodie, ye’ll gie the duke a bairn as quickly as possible.”

  Chapter 3

  Una sent one of the younger women back into the hall to see if the minister had arrived from the village. He had. So without further ado Flanna was led down the stairs and brought forward before the Reverend Master Forbes, the local Presbyterian cleric. Patrick Leslie came and stood beside her. He was slightly surprised by her dress until he remembered it was an old country custom for a bride to come to her husband barefooted and in her shift. It signified not just innocence, but obedience. He almost laughed, suspecting Flanna’s lack of that virtue, but as long as she kept his house well, he didn’t care.

  The minister cleared his throat and then performed the simple ceremony with dispatch. Patrick Leslie’s voice was clear and strong as he agreed to take Flanna Brodie for his wife. When Master Forbes, however, asked Flanna if she would have the duke for her husband to love, respect, honor, and obey, Flanna hesitated, then said, “I dinna love him, for I dinna know him. He must earn my respect. I will honor him, however, as my lord, but I’ll nae stand before God and promise to obey him, for I canna be certain that I will.”

  The poor startled minister was not certain what to do in the face of the girl’s blunt declaration. Lachlann Brodie looked as if he were going to explode with rage. His face was purple with his anger.

  “I accept the lady’s terms,” Patrick Leslie said suddenly, breaking the deadlock. “ ’Tis only fair, considering that we hae just met a few hours ago. I appreciate both her candor and her honesty. It speaks well of her character.”

  “Verra well, then,” Reverend Forbes said quickly, relief pouring through his very soul. “Then I pronounce that this couple are now husband and wife.”

  “If ye were still my responsibility, lass, I’d take a stick to ye,” her father said, “and I advise yer husband to do so.”

  For once Flanna held her peace, not answering her father back.

  “The meal is ready,” Una announced, and they all sat down to eat.

  The duke was surprised to see what a truly fine table his new father-in-law kept. Given Lachlann Brodie’s reputation for parsimony, he would not have expected it. There was fish, freshly caught, both trout and salmon on beds of wild watercress. A half side of beef, roasted and dripping its juices; a large platter of ducks, their skins crisp, and stuffed with bread and apples; a rabbit stew in a fragrant brown gravy with carrots and leeks; fresh bread, butter, and a small wheel of cheese; and the best October ale Patrick Leslie had ever tasted. There was no wine, but there was fresh-pressed cider for those with a more delicate palate.

  Flanna, whose appetite was usually quite good, found herself picking at her food. It was quickly dawning upon her that she would shortly be forced to get into bed with this dark stranger. She knew virtually nothing about what really transpired between men and women. She had never been particularly interested. As she had no female friends of her own age with whom to gossip, her scant knowledge had come from Una, who was quite loath to discuss such matters with a maiden. Una’s few words before they had come into the hall had only confused Flanna further. I shall look like a damned fool, she thought to herself, suddenly just a little frightened.

  Patrick Leslie watched his new wife surreptitiously and saw she was hardly eating. Just how much of a virgin was she? he wondered. The old man said she was untouched, but one could never tell with these Highland lasses. And was the reason for the hasty marriage as simple as it appeared? Or was the lass with another man’s child? Looking at Flanna, he discarded that suspicion. There had been nothing to indicate the lass was loose in her previous behavior. The canny old Brodie simply had seen a chance to wed his only daughter to a title, and he had taken it. But, the duke decided, he would, indeed, bed his bride tonight in her father’s house. If she proved not to be a virgin, he would repudiate the marriage immediately. Brae, however, would still be his, a forfeit to the fraud.

  The meal was finally cleared away. A piper came into the hall to play. The Brodie men arose by ones and twos to dance before the board. The air was beginning to become slightly blue with the smoke from the fireplace which was drawing badly. Patrick realized he had said nothing to Flanna since they had taken their vows before the minister. Neither, however, had she spoken to him. Holding out his hand to her, he arose from the table, drawing her up with him.

  “Come, madame, and let us dance to celebrate our union.” He led her forth into the middle of the floor, and the piper began to play the stately wedding dance. He was surprised to find she was extremely graceful despite her height. Holding up the skirt of her simple shift, she dipped and trod with a sure step. He twirled her, drawing her into the curve of his arm, and leaning back her head, she looked up at him for a brief moment. Her eyes are silver gray. He had not known it until now. He offered her a small smile of approval at her skill. “Ye dance well, madame,” he said softly to her.

  “Thank ye, my lord,” she replied low.

  “They make a handsome pair,” Una Brodie whispered to her husband. “Yer da had the devil’s own luck here today. I’d nae thought we would get her married off at all, let alone married off so well, and to the Duke of Glenkirk.”

  “Pray he gets her with bairn quickly and she delivers a healthy lad,” Aulay Brodie answered his wife. “His family will nae be pleased when they learn of this marriage. I’m certain they would hae sought a far better match for their duke than a Brodie of Killiecairn. Da had the luck here today, Una, ye’re right, but pray Flanna has that same luck in the months to come. I canna help but feel sad for my little sister. The duke doesna know her and wants only her dowry of Brae. I hope he will come to care for her, or at least be kind to her.”

  “Dinna fret about Flanna,” Una said to her husband. “She’s a strong lass. If she wants her duke to love her, he’ll come to love her. ’Tis poor Patrick Leslie I feel sorry for, Aulay. He hae nae idea of how fierce a lass Flanna can be.”

  Aulay Brodie chuckled. “He’ll learn soon enough, wife.”

  Lachlann Brodie leaned over and said to his daughter, “ ’Tis time for ye to leave the hall, lassie. We’ll send yer husband to ye shortly. God bless ye, Flanna. Yer mother would be proud this day.”

  She arose and, bending down, kissed his worn cheek. “I know ye did it because ye thought it best for me, Da. Perhaps one day I’ll thank ye. Or cur
se ye. Only time will tell. I want none of the women wi’ me. I am capable of doing this by myself.”

  He nodded, and quietly bid the females in his household to remain seated as his daughter left the hall.

  Flanna hurried upstairs to her small bedchamber. She was surprised to find two small trunks already out in the hallway packed with her belongings. Entering her room, she saw that almost all of her possessions were gone. The bed, which was just barely big enough for two people, was made up with fresh linens. On the table there was a copper ewer and, next to it, a pitcher of lukewarm water. A clean cloth lay next to the ewer. Flanna poured a small dollop of water into the ewer and washed her face and hands. Then she scrubbed her teeth with the cloth, finally emptying the basin out the small single window. Hearing footsteps in the hall outside her door, she turned quickly. The door opened, and the duke stepped into the chamber. Flanna’s heart began to beat violently.

  He closed the door behind him, turning to bar it. “Dinna look so frightened,” he said. “I dinna intend harming ye, madame. Ye hae been strangely silent this evening. Ye were nae so silent earlier today.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Help me off wi’ my boots, madame,” he said.

  “What would ye hae me say, my lord?” she asked him, turning her back on him, taking a boot between her legs with her hands and drawing it off. She then swiftly removed the other boot and turned about to face him once again. “I did nae seek this union between our families. The truth is neither did ye. It was Brae ye wanted, and now ye hae it. Ye dinna want me.”

  “I also needed a wife,” he told her honestly. He unbuttoned his jerkin and, removing it, handed it to her.

  Flanna took the garment and laid it carefully on the room’s single chair. “But had the opportunity nae presented itself,” she replied, “ye would nae hae sought out a Brodie of Killiecairn, would ye?”

  “I dinna know who I would hae sought out,” he answered her candidly. “Before my mother went south, she advised me to take a wife, but the truth is I dinna know any respectable young women in the vicinity. I dinna expect to inherit so soon, for my father was in good health; but then I did inherit, and it became necessary that I find a wife. Ye’ll do as well as any other, lass. As ye said, I wanted Brae.”

  “Do ye hae a mistress, then?” Flanna demanded to know.

  Unexpectedly he grinned at her. “Would ye be jealous if I did?” he teased.

  “Dinna flatter yerself, my lord,” she said sharply. “I simply wish to know what to expect when I get to Glenkirk.”

  “I enjoy the lasses,” he admitted, “and I hae three acknowledged bastards, two lads and a wee lass; but their mams were momentary diversions for me. Still, I do acknowledge my bairns and see them free of any want. I hae never kept a mistress at Glenkirk, however, or anywhere else, madame.”

  Flanna nodded. “What does a duchess do? I am nae well educated. I know how to manage a household. I can sign my name; but I am unschooled in refinements, and I canna speak in any foreign tongue. I dinna want to shame ye, my lord.”

  Patrick Leslie was strangely touched by Flanna’s frankness. She was an uncomplicated and honest girl. Perhaps this hasty match would not prove to his disadvantage after all. He stood and began to unbutton his breeches. “Glenkirk is larger than yer father’s house, of course,” he began. “Since my mother’s departure, there hae been no woman to manage the castle. Her personal servants, who had come wi’ her when she married my father, ran the household. Glenkirk badly needs a woman’s touch, madame. Yer skills will be appreciated. Ye may choose whomever ye wish to serve ye from among our people, and ye’ll hae yer Aggie and yer Angus wi’ ye.” He stepped out of the dark woolen breeches, then his linen drawers, again handing them to her.

  Suddenly silent again, Flanna took the proffered garments, her eyes casting a quick look at his long legs that stuck out from beneath his almost knee-length shirt. The rounded tops of his knees were just visible from above his stockings. He bent to quickly roll them off, kicking them aside. Then he turned to face her once again. “Well, madame, we are ready to proceed now, I believe.”

  Flanna swallowed hard. “I certainly dinna know what to do,” she said.

  “Come here to me,” he gently ordered her.

  She moved the few steps to stand before him.

  “Tell me exactly what you know, or have heard, about a husband and wife’s private moments,” he said quietly.

  “Nothing, really,” she admitted. “Before I came into the hall for our wedding vows, my sister-in-law told me to lay quiet when ye went into me, and if ye were skillful, I might gain some pleasure from ye; but, my lord, I havena the faintest idea what Una meant! I am sorry to be so ignorant, or to displease ye, but there it is.”

  Now it was Patrick Leslie’s turn to swallow hard. If Flanna was to be believed, and he was certain she was, then she was a virgin with no knowledge at all, as opposed to a virgin with some education in the school of passion. Had he ever had such a virgin? Had he ever taken any virgin? He didn’t believe so. “Hae ye ever let a lad kiss ye, Flanna?” he asked her. Suddenly addressing her as madame seemed inappropriate. “Or cuddle wi’ ye?”

  “Of course nae!” she answered him indignantly. “What do ye take me for, my lord? I’m nae some loose lightskirt, quick to duck into a dark corner or lay out in the heather wi’ every lad.”

  He nodded. “I never thought otherwise, lassie, but a quick kiss or a cuddle is nae a crime. Still, if ye hae nae education in the school of love, then I must teach ye from the beginning. Yer da expects yer maidenhead sacrificed by the morrow, or he’ll nae gie me the deeds to Brae. We hae much work to do, ye and I, before the dawn.”

  “Brae again!” she cried. “Ohhh, take it, and leave me in peace, my lord! I should sooner die a maid!” She turned her back on him.

  Patrick laughed softly. Then reaching out, he drew her back so she stood against him, one arm loosely about her waist. Unable to help himself, he buried his face for a moment in her long, red-gold hair. It was fragrant with the scent of white heather. “Nah, nah, lassie,” he said in a soothing voice, “’twould be a crime if ye died a maid, for ye’re so verra fair.” He pushed the thick mass of curls aside and placed a light kiss upon her nape. The skin beneath his lips was soft. She would easily engage his lust, he thought, pleased. He had lain with other women on shorter acquaintance.

  Her breath caught in her throat. His arm gently, but now firmly pinioning her against his hard body, the warm touch of his mouth on the back of her neck was both startling and intriguing. “Do ye really think me fair?” she asked him shyly when her voice finally returned. What the hell was the matter with her? She was behaving like a perfect ninny.

  “Aye,” he answered, turning her about to look at him again. He tilted her oval face up to his, then bending his head kissed her gently.

  To her mortification, Flanna almost swooned with the contact between their two lips. Her heart beat wildly, thundering within her chest cavity and echoing in her ears; her head swam dizzily. Her whole being was suffused with warmth as she swayed like a sapling in the wind. “Ooohhh,” was all she could manage to say when he finally lifted his mouth from hers.

  His hands went out to steady her. She blushed, embarrassed, and hid her head in his shoulder. Her guilelessness charmed him. “I think ye may hae a talent for kissing, Flanna,” he told her, smiling.

  Now that her senses had ceased to reel, Flanna decided that she, too, had enjoyed their first kiss. She raised her eyes to him again, saying boldly, “We’ll nae know unless we do it some more, my lord.” Then her arms went about his neck, drawing him into her embrace.

  He laughed softly, saying, “I am my lady wife’s to command,” and he began to kiss her again.

  She melted against him, letting him lead her, quickly learning from his most expert tuition. At first their mouths were like twin butterflies, softly brushing against each other. Then the tenor of his tutelage began to subtly change. His mouth became harder, more demanding, against hers. F
lanna felt her belly beginning to roil with a nervous excitement. His thumb and his forefinger were holding her head firmly. His tongue ran along her pouting lips, and surprised again, she gasped, allowing his tongue to plunge deep into the warm, moist cave of her mouth. Her instinct was to struggle, to escape, but he would not permit her. Instead the hot, probing digit sought out her retreating tongue, teasing at it, stroking it, taunting it into a slow and very sensuous dance. Unable to help herself, Flanna followed his lead.

  And then she realized that his hand was no longer holding her head. She was a willing participant, and the hand was unlacing the ribbons of her shift. She tore her head from his and cried out, “Nae!” Her hands tried to pull his away.

  “The kissing comes first,” Patrick Leslie said thickly. “Then the touching, lassie. Trust me, Flanna. I’ll nae hurt ye, but I need to touch ye now.”

  “Why?” she half whispered. Oh, God! His big hand was slipping between the halves of her shift’s neckline to cup her breast. She shivered.

  “Because I am nae a virgin, lassie, and ye hae, it would seem, managed to arouse my lust wi’ yer kisses. I must take the edge off of that lust now, or I’ll take ye before ye’re ready,” he told her frankly.

  “Oh.” Her voice was very small.

  “How quickly yer little heart is beating,” he murmured, and bending his head he kissed the very tip of her breast.

  “ ’Twill beat far faster if ye continue to do that,” she gasped. His hand was so warm, and her breast, it would seem, fit quite snugly into the curve of his palm. When he had kissed her nipple, it had been as if she had been struck by a bolt of lightning. The nipple had puckered and grown tight with a little ache.

  “A woman’s breasts are meant to be caressed,” he told her.