by Starla Kaye
Dear Maggie? Maggie rolled her eyes and all but bit her tongue in two to keep from snarling at the woman seated opposite her at the trestle table. She’d already made one miss-speak concerning the other thorn in her side, Dear Mary, and been chastised about it by Nicholas. It had been embarrassing to be called out by him and have the near room full of people overhear. Now she noted how he clenched and unclenched his hand on the table. The look in his eyes warned her that hand could easily connect with her bottom if she pushed him any further. She was not about to share the evening meal and face this potential husband while squirming in discomfort on the bench at the table.
“’Tis kind of ye to offer to help with instructing the cooks,” Maggie said as sweetly as she could stomach, forcing a gracious smile. “But I ken I can handle it and my personal preparations as well.”
Nicholas shoved to his feet. Impatience once more imprinted on his face. “Lady Stanhope, you will be in charge today.” He looked down at Maggie and the familiar inflexibility settled in his eyes. “You will use the day to rest up for Dunston’s visit. The maids will prepare you a bath and Fia can help you dress in one of your best gowns.”
“But—”
“Nay buts to it, Lady Urquhart. Unless….” His glance narrowed and she immediately understood what he hadn’t added.
Her face heated and Maggie fisted her hands under the table and gave a curt nod. “As ye wish, Lord Middleham. I shall do all necessary to make sure the earl asks fer my hand in marriage this verra day. Ye will be rid of me before a few days at the latest. Does that no’ please ye?” The idea sickened her, but it was inevitable that she would leave here.
He held her gaze for a few seconds, his expression turning hard to read. Then he stiffened his shoulders and walked off to join Gerald and Richard where they waited for him at the end of the table. His lack of response had Maggie watching him and feeling confused. She had expected him to almost dance in delight at the mention of her being gone in a short time. But then she’d not seen him show any real pleasure almost since she’d met him. As much as he annoyed her at times, she worried about him, too. Was he even capable of smiling? Laughing? Tenderness?
Tenderness? Good Lord, what was she thinking! It was the sadness she caught in his gaze at times that got to her. The loneliness she sensed. He trained hard with his men, talked much with his two firsts, and had already earned the respect of the people of Middleham in the short time he’d been here. But when the day ended and the men started sharing stories and flirting with the women in the great hall, he took himself up to the solar and spent the rest of the eve alone until he retired to his bedchamber. She’d avoided direct contact with him, but she’d watched him from a distance. He needed more than just Middleham and his other holding to care about. He needed a wife. Someone who would heal whatever inner wounds he had. Someone he could love and who would love him back.
She snorted to herself. Love generally had little to do with a marriage, especially an arranged marriage. Her own parents’ marriage had been an arranged one. Yet they’d grown to love one another, or so she’d been told by her older brothers. Her mother had died giving birth to her and it had nearly destroyed her father, again, so she’d been told. He’d shunned her at first for costing him his precious wife. But it hadn’t taken him long to bury his grief and begin doting on her. He’d loved her mightily, even though he’d been a stern parent. He had loved only two women in his life: her mother and her. She wanted that kind of love for herself, but doubted she would ever have that.
“I hear the earl has been married thrice before,” Mary said, interrupting Maggie’s thoughts.
“Aye, I’ve heard as well.” Maggie took a final sip of mead and rose from the table. She didn’t want to talk to Mary about anything, certainly not Dunston.
But Mary was not ready to give up on pestering her. “He has two grown sons and a daughter, all older than you. At least he won’t need to get you with child for an heir.” Mary smiled knowingly. “I have also heard that he’s a randy man. That he wore at least one of his wives out with his insatiable needs. It is a good thing you are young.”
Maggie felt a shudder sweep over her and turned away. She had heard a few of the men talking as well in the last few days. She’d tried not to think about the rumors—hopefully they were only rumors—or even think about the man himself. It was distressing enough to know that her future was to be decided by others, by Nicholas and his English king. She still considered the idea of running away, but there were too many men here now, too many guards on the walls, and too many watching eyes.
Her shoulders slumped for a second and then she raised her head to face Mary with a wicked smile of her own. “If the earl doesna find he likes me, mayhap he will seek ye as his wife.”
Mary’s eyes widened and she paled. “Nay! Nay, I am most sure he will seek a contract for your hand in marriage.” She gathered herself and stood as well. “Besides, Nicholas is beginning to realize I will make a good wife. Once you are gone from here he will—”
“I wouldna be setting my hopes on marryin’ the laird,” Fia said in disgust from behind Mary. She walked around her and over to Maggie from where she’d been breaking her fast at the next table with a dozen other servants.
“This is none of your business,” Mary snapped. Her thin face pinched tight in annoyance.
Maggie wasn’t in the mood for continuing the verbal fight with Mary and she didn’t want her friend to get into trouble. If she didn’t separate them right now, Mary would find some way to cause grief for Fia. She’d done it before. Fia had told her in embarrassment the other day that Nicholas had taken her to the solar and thrashed her a half-dozen times with the strop for having showed disrespect to Mary. Maggie had wanted to go to him when she’d found out about the incident and give him a piece of her mind about punishing Fia because of some lie Mary had told him. But Fia had warned her against doing so. Both of them knew she was skirting being taken over his knee herself. She’d backed down, but she’d been seething about the injustice since then. Soon she wouldn’t be worrying about when next he would decide to punish her.
Her stomach knotted and she wondered if the earl would physically punish her. She didn’t like thinking about it, but it was a concern. As was this insatiability of his for sex. That worried her far more than suffering a burned bottom at his hand. Oddly, she didn’t think she’d mind at all if Nicholas were to feel such a need for her. But that would never be.
She forced the troublesome thoughts aside and took Fia’s arm to pull her toward the other end of the great hall. She ignored Mary and the others in the large room who had no doubt been listening. “I will need help with a bath later. Fer now I would ask ye to help me choose a gown to wear to meet Dunston.”
* * *
“I hear Dunston has a rather nasty reputation with women,” Sir Richard said with an edge of anger.
Nicholas feigned off the thrust of Richard’s wooden practice sword. The scowl he’d worn since breaking his fast and walking away after Maggie’s pronouncement that he would be rid of her in a few days deepened. He hadn’t liked hearing the words, even if they were true, even if that had been the plan all along. He didn’t like being reminded of the rumors he’d heard as well about the fifty-something Earl of Dunston.
He thrust his sword hard at Richard. “I cannot judge a man on reputation alone. Often they are false rumors, strengthened with the re-telling.”
Richard’s face hardened. He’d only known Maggie a few weeks, as had everyone at Middleham, but clearly he’d grown fond of her. Nicholas knew all here were fond of the Scottish lass who made sure she knew each and every name of everyone who resided here. She had tended various injuries from training and other mishaps. She listened to the soldiers’ boastful tales from the battlefields, even shared some of her own memories of defending her home. They watched and heard her go nose-to-nose with him on an almost daily basis over this or that. Their rounds amused his men and the servants. In truth, after he’d cooled
off and was away from her, he, too, often felt something akin to amusement. He’d never thought he’d admire a strong, sometimes willful woman, but he did. More than that, he could not sleep at night without thinking about her. He’d seen her creamy flesh when he’d bared her bottom for punishment. And he’d wanted to touch far more than just her backside.
“I wouldn’t like to see the lass abused,” Gerald added as he looked over from where he practiced with another soldier nearby.
Nicholas thrust again at Richard. Most of the men and the servants knew he punished Maggie on occasion, particularly after the time she’d disobeyed him by not staying in her chamber as he’d ordered and shooting his hawk. A man taking his hand to his wife’s bottom was not a rare thing. But she wasn’t his wife. He’d also dealt with Fia recently, also not a rare thing. Lairds and heads of staff were known to punish misbehaving or errant staff. He had done so before, but not often. Properly delivered punishment for disobedience was expected, not considered abuse. Gerald had approved of Nicholas thrashing Fia for her attitude issues with Mary, but Nicholas knew his friend had also soothed her in his bed later. Which had been fine with him. Nicholas, too, had wanted to soothe Maggie after the paddling he’d given her. He’d fought hard to keep from going back to her room that night and doing so. In truth, there’d been many nights when he had to force himself to stay away from her bedchamber.
The “abuse” his first referred to now was sexual or verbal abuse. He wouldn’t want to see Maggie abused either. He had almost sent back a message to Dunston to refuse him coming to Middleham. But Mary had convinced him to give the man a chance. She seemed to believe the rumors were unjustified, spread by envious men because the earl had been married three times, to supposedly beautiful women each time. Still, it worried Nicholas and he would watch the man well.
He was about to respond when one of the soldiers on the wall called down. “Dunston has arrived, My Lord.”
Nicholas shared a brief look of acceptance with Gerald and Richard. Neither man looked happy with the situation. A feeling of apprehension scurried through him, but he could not give it weight. He would not judge the man on reputation alone.
* * *
Maggie disliked the Earl of Dunston on sight. He was a foot shorter than Nicholas, almost shorter than her. He had a barrel chest, a stomach softened and rounded by too much food, too much whiskey, and certainly not enough exercise. His thin hair rimmed an oddly shaped head. Yet he wasn’t totally unattractive. He did have a handsome face, although slightly pudgy-cheeked. He also appeared to be a charmer and seemed to be winning Nicholas over. The thought sickened her.
He sat next to her at the table and had been attempting to look down her décolletage all during the meal. She’d attempted to scoot away from him, but he had always scooted over as well. Nicholas had frowned at her actions, yet she wouldn’t stop trying to shift away even at the threat of a experiencing a lecture or worse later. She just didn’t like anything about the earl. Plus he smelled. While she’d carefully bathed and dressed in her finest gown, he’d not bathed probably since leaving his holding.
Mary sat across from them and smiled encouragingly at Dunston. To Maggie’s disgust, he didn’t appear at all interested in Mary…only in her. A notion of which Mary clearly was aware of and found delightful.
The hall was noisy tonight, with hardly a spare seat at the numerous tables. Evidently everyone wanted to observe this meeting with her possible husband. They talked and laughed amongst themselves while eating the large feast of roasted beef, pheasant, salmon, pasties, breads and cheese. Mugs of mead and whiskey were constantly being refilled. The only one not eating much was her. She’d barely managed to swallow even one bite of bread.
Finally the earl pushed his trencher aside and looked directly at Nicholas. “I want her virginity checked, Lord Middleham, before any further talk of a marriage contract.” He glanced at the unsmiling, gray-haired woman on his other side, his widowed mother. “Countess Isabelle will handle the matter.”
Maggie sucked in a surprised breath, heart racing. She’d heard of such demands before, had been appalled at such an outrage. She gazed in distress toward Nicholas, already noting the flash of approval in Mary’s eyes.
Nicholas gave the earl a scorching look. “Lady Durquhart is—”
The earl’s gaze hardened and he cut off Nicholas’s protest. “You’re young, healthy, no doubt as randy as I’m proclaimed to be. She’s a striking woman, healthy as well. I can sense an attraction between you two. Has it been acted upon? Maybe, maybe not.”
While Nicholas’s face reddened and the people nearby quieted, the earl continued grimly, “It is not uncommon to ask this of a potential bride. Each of my prior wives was tested. I would not have married them otherwise. Now, will you agree to this test? Or shall I simply take my men and leave? And I can assure you I will let King Edward know of your refusal.”
“You pompous little—” Nicholas growled and looked ready to reach across the table and throttle the much smaller man.
Maggie could barely breathe at the horrifying idea, but she would not let the bastard cause Nicholas to do something he would later regret. She raised her chin and said with determination, “’Tis no’ necessary, but I will submit to yer testing.”
“No, I—” Nicholas countered but stopped when she stood and stared him down.
“Yer wish is to find me a husband as soon as possible. I will do this.” God, she hated this.
Before she could change her mind, she marched with as much dignity as possible toward the stairway leading up to her bedchamber. With each step she felt nauseous. She loathed the idea of the stern-faced crone coming anywhere near her. But she would submit to this degradation for Nicholas’s sake.
She’d barely walked into her chamber when she heard footsteps behind her. Heavy ones, Nicholas, she was certain. Another fairly heavy set, no doubt the earl’s. Lighter ones, Countess Isabelle. Then another set of lighter ones coming on a rush, Fia.
Maggie’s stomach fluttered with nerves. Her eyes misted with tears, but she fought them back. She would do this! But without a room full of witnesses.
She stiffened her spine and focused first on the earl and then on Nicholas, who were both striding into the chamber. “Nay! I will let Countess Isabelle do whatever is necessary. But I will no’ have the two of ye here as well.”
The earl glowered at her and started to move further into the room. “I must observe the procedure.”
“Ye do no’ trust yer mother?” Maggie countered, pleased to see the countess purse her lips in annoyance.
Nicholas didn’t appear like he would leave, either. But then he blew out a deep, frustrated breath. He shot her a look of apology and grabbed the older, shorter man by the arm and guided him out of the room none too gently. His hand on the door, he snapped, “Fia stays!”
As soon as the door was closed, Countess Isabelle motioned Maggie toward her bed. “You will lie on your back and your maid can lift your skirts out of my way.”
Maggie moved quickly to the bed and took the requested position. She was afraid if she didn’t immediately do so, she would change her mind. Nicholas wanted her gone so he could get on with his life. She was a burden he didn’t need. She had to do this, no matter how much she hated it.
Fia scowled at the older woman as she pulled up the long green skirt of Maggie’s gown, followed by the chemise. Her cheeks flamed in embarrassment on Maggie’s behalf and she looked away, unable to watch what would happen next. Yet she mumbled under her breath, “’Tisna right, this.”
Maggie reached out to squeeze Fia’s hand, both women needing their shared bond to get through this nastiness. She closed her eyes and tried not to think of how the countess jerked her toward the end of the bed, until her bottom was near the edge. She tensed when her legs were pushed up and spread apart until her heels rested on the bed. Her private place was now exposed to this stranger and she sniffed back tears of humiliation.
With one hand firmly hold
ing her right leg to the side, the countess stuck a finger into her body. While Maggie had experienced some wetness between her legs on more than one occasion when she’d had lustful thoughts about Nicholas, she was dry now. The sudden invasion made her jerk in discomfort. She whimpered and bit her lip.
The finger inside her moved around a few more seconds before being abruptly pulled free. “You are still a virgin,” Countess Isabelle stated with what sounded like displeasure.
Maggie opened her eyes and glared at the woman. “I told ye so.” She dropped her legs off the edge of the bed and pushed them together.
Fia shoved the countess aside and helped Maggie to her feet. The chemise and gown fell into place, but Maggie knew she’d never forget this horrible moment. Worse, many of those eating around them in the great hall had heard about what was to happen. It would be difficult to face them after this, but she would.
* * *
Nicholas wanted to kill the bastard for insisting on putting Maggie through this humiliation. He would have thrown the man and his mother out had not Maggie interfered. She had been right to submit to this testing, which he knew was a rare but accepted requirement by some proposed husbands. Still, he didn’t like it. He would never put a woman through such an experience.
They’d been out here for only a couple of minutes, but that was far too much time in the earl’s presence. He had pretty much already decided he would not accept the man’s offer of a marriage contract, should he offer one. He was contemplating that when he finally caught part of what the earl was saying.
“Lady Urquhart appears to be slight, but sturdy. She will need to be so because I ride a woman long, hard, and frequently.” He smirked and his eyes danced with devilment. “My women learn quickly that I will take them whenever I want, wherever I want. And I’m quite fond of enjoying their backdoor as well. Yes, I’ll have her on her knees, head lowered, ass up for a good ramming quite often.”
