Betrothed to the Beast

by Elina Emerald

  Amelia had expected to see Orla, but it was Deidre, Jonet’s maid, who attended to dress her. Deidre wore a severe face and every time she smiled it didn’t quite reach her eyes but never the less she helped Amelia get dressed in the MacGregor airisaidh though now and then Deidre would make comments about Amelia’s size how they should probably readjust the seams for her kirtle or chemise as she was bigger than Beiste’s usually taste in women. Amelia refused to let it get to her.

  Later a guardsman Alasdair introduced himself he had relieved Donald and would be with her for the day. Soon word came that the Priest was ready. Amelia stepped outside of her chambers and took a deep breath, there were servants standing on the landing smiling at her and wishing her well as she descended the stairs, her step faltered for a second for she thought she saw the figure in a grey cloak standing among them, the hairs rose on her arm but when she looked again; he was gone. She must be seeing things it must be her nerves. She kept walking as Alasdair lead her down the stairs to the Great Hall.

  The cloaked one watched from a distance. In all the festivities he was invisible, hidden in plain sight, easily able to blend in and move with freedom. He had been watching her with interest and curiosity from the shadows. She was comely and buxom and made to please a man like him. He had planned to watch her sleep, but the Beast had joined her himself and placed a guard at the door. No doubt the Beast had rutted her luscious body like a whore the whole night. He was angry the Beast received the best of everything. But patience is a virtue. He would bide his time. His turn would come and then he would strike.

  Beiste had left Amelia’s chamber after a very restful sleep. He was not sure when it happened, but he had had no night terrors since leaving Dunbar. When she was in his arms, he slept well. As he descended the stairs to get himself ready for his wedding, he realized he was getting married again and he did not mind so much.

  He tried to remember what it was like with his first wedding, Caitrin was the daughter of a neighbouring clan Laird and they had barely spoken even during the courting phase, she was very quiet never raised her voice and always agreed with him. But no matter what he did she was always terrified of everything, even her own shadow. Their wedding night had been awkward and the few times they coupled was purely to create an heir which was all she wanted, a babe. When she was with child, he was so relieved that he would not have to bed her again. And now he felt guilty about that.

  Was it right that he was now about to start a life with someone else? Beiste felt guilty. He had not thought about her once since meeting Amelia. He had not thought about the babe he had lost and the wife who killed herself. He was forgetting what she even looked like and sounded like. He should have been here with her that night, he should never have gone off to fight some ridiculous skirmish. A darkness plagued Beiste’s mood as he made his way to the Great Hall.

  The musicians played a slow tune as Amelia strolled into the Hall. They gave Brodie the honours of walking her down the aisle. When he greeted her, he just beamed and said, “You look lovely Amelia, very lovely.”

  She walked with him but with no family on her side of the hall; she felt sad about that. What of her mother’s kin, would they have wanted to be present if they knew her? She looked around the Hall; it had been tastefully decorated with white flowers; they had scrubbed the floors clean. Flowers adorned the tables the fragrance was fresh like the forest. So many things going through her mind. She could only hope her new clan would accept her. Amelia looked up and saw Beiste. He looked surprised. She smiled back and then a shadow crossed over his face and he frowned.

  She faltered but Brodie kept walking, “It will be all right, just wedding nerves.” By the time she reached Beiste, he had a chilly expression on his face like he wanted to be anywhere but there. Brodie held out her hand for Beiste to take but he hesitated “You know Amelia if things don’t work out with Beiste, I am always available.” Brodie whispered.

  Beiste pulled her away from Brodie’s arm and said, “Go away.”

  Brodie released her, “Hey, I was just letting her know that she always has options.” Amelia looked up at Beiste and he was facing the priest and looked tense, but he had her hand firmly gripped in his.

  “Are you all right, Beiste? Is something wrong?” she whispered.

  “Let’s just get this over with, shall we.” Was all he said.

  They took their vows, Beiste was tense about wedding her, Amelia knew if she let his behaviour affect her she was likely to cry and embarrass herself in front of his clan instead she kept a stony silence throughout and refused to look at him. When it was time to kiss, she pecked his cheek and turned away.

  The priest announced them as man and wife. The crowd roared and celebrations began. Amelia just felt empty inside.

  Beiste tried to shake the maudlin thoughts about Caitrin, but they kept intruding. He drank more ale and tried to relax, then he looked over at his wife. His wife. He still could not believe she was his, then he saw her, she looked detached and quiet. The sparkle in her eyes had dimmed, and he kicked himself for his own selfishness. It was not her fault she was just as much a victim of circumstance as he was. When he saw her walking down the aisle, all else faded. Her loveliness stirred some deep within his soul and no matter how much he tried it just burrowed deeper. Then the guilt encroached on his feelings and he took it out on her.

  Beiste grabbed her chair and pulled it with her closer towards him. She startled and peered up at him. Before she could say a word, he bent down to sip her lips and kissed her deep and long. He stroked her mouth with his tongue, mimicking the act they would soon partake of with other parts of their bodies. Amelia stiffened at first but then relaxed into him she could not resist the feelings she felt so hot and flushed, her skin was on fire, riotous feelings she’d never felt before and she opened up to him. Is this why so many of the servants coupled often.

  She moved closer, needed more from Beiste but knowing not what. He deepened his kiss. Then picked her up and sat her on his lap, their mouths still fused together. People started cheering, and they separated and laughed, but not before he looked at her and said, “You look beautiful wife. I should have said that earlier, forgive my failure in doing so.” His eyes held genuine remorse and Amelia nodded. They turned back to the crowd who had called out for a toast, then the music and dancing began.

  That night they stood in their bedchamber and Beiste could not wait another second to make her his wife in all ways. “I need to know if you have laid with any other before me.” Amelia shook her head. “Then we will go slow, love.” Even though he knew it would kill him.

  Beiste removed her chemise slowly whilst ravishing her mouth. He bared her luscious breasts to his gaze and growled. Wherever his eyes roamed his hands, lips and tongue followed. She threw her head back and moaned. He promised he would go slow but the sounds she was making was feeding a primal need to claim and conquer. She shrieked when he flung her over his shoulder and threw her on the bed spreading her legs wide for his view. Amelia tried to cover herself, but he would not let her, “No, you are mine and you are lovely, do not ever hide yourself from me.”

  Beiste removed his clothes and joined her. He explored her body entire body with his lips and tongue. Her breaths became short sharp gasps as Beiste lowered his head to her breast and suckled a hardened peak. The sensations were overwhelming. Amelia felt the pressure building from her nipple to her molten core like a crescendo seeking its ultimate peak her body stiffened then she shouted her release. Beiste did not stop his relentless assault he hovered above her creating friction and pressure with his hard length rubbing against her centre, Amelia spread her legs wider, needing more, pleading with her eyes for something only he could give. She gripped his arms. Beiste complied, and in one hard thrust broke through her barrier and sheathed himself within her welcoming heat. He stilled. His brow furrowed with concern as his lips lay an inch away from hers. “Are you all right, love?”

  She nodded her head, “I need you to move n
ow.” Beiste claimed her with a visceral need, he increased his pace as her breasts bounced with the power of each thrust. Amelia could feel every inch of her husband inside her the euphoric rise began again as they became one, skin against skin flesh against flesh, Beiste took her with wild abandon, no more control or finesse, they climaxed together as he roared his release and bathed her womb with his seed.

  Beiste lay in thrall to a peaceful, contented feeling. Amelia passed out with pleasure beside him. He knew then he was in danger of becoming enamoured with his wife. He needed to create some space between them, tomorrow he would start, tonight he would enjoy the comfort a little longer.

  ***

  The cloaked one hovered in the shadows of the Hall, far enough away so the guards could not see but close enough he could hear the noises coming from the chamber. So, the Beast and his bride were one. He heard enough of the moaning and grunting coming from their chambers to know they engaged in the marriage's consummation. He shook his head. At the rate they were going, it would not take long for their union to create an heir. That was something he would never allow. He moved back towards the wall leading to the secret passage. It was time to give his minion below stairs a visit; she was failing in her duty. He would need to punish her the only way she understood. It would be painful for her, but pleasurable for him especially since the noises from the chamber had made him feral.

  ***

  Chapter 12

  The morning after

  Amelia woke from blissful slumber and cocooned in warmth she made to move away before realising a firm body lay curled behind her one arm around her waist and one leg over her thighs. Beiste’s. They were on their side, her head tucked up under his chin and he slept soundly. She tried to move away but his arm tightened, “No.” he growled. Then he fell back to sleep. She tried to move her leg out from under him but again he tightened his embrace and growled again. Even while a sleep he was annoying. With a resigned sigh she decided to just lie a little longer until he awoke, she felt sore in parts she never thought could feel sore her mind drifted to the day before and the Wedding night. Lud what a night. It was positively wicked and exhausting. But she would have no problem doing it all again. She yawned at that thought and drifted into oblivion.

  Beiste woke with a start and feeling the most refreshed he had ever felt in a long time. He had an instant awareness of the woman in his arms and the fragrance of her hair, his wife. His hot wee passionate, responsive wife. He took a deep breath of satisfaction feeling her in his arms and tightened his hold around her. He thought of all the wonderful things he would love to do with her she was a quick study in bed play but not today she would be sore, and she needed soothing. He caught himself smiling. He grimaced at the realisation that this woman utterly owned him.

  He thought she was an obsession he could work out of his system, but she was slowly digging her way under his skin. He knew this much dependency on a female could ruin him. It was a path he had never trodden before and the best way to ensure he kept some clarity was to keep some emotional distance between them.

  The first step was to not laze about in bed, enjoying her kisses and company. He needed to leave now before she woke up; he rolled out of bed and grabbed his plaid. But he was too late because he heard a sleepy voice behind him greet him, “Good morning husband” he turned to see her sitting up in bed blushing trying to hold the surrounding bedcovers, she looked so delectable and well and truly tumbled. So sweet and so innocent after a night of unadulterated ravishment. He frowned again. He needed to get out of here.

  “Wife there is much to do today, we need to fly the bloodied sheet as proof we have consummated the marriage.” He uttered gruffly. None too pleased he saw the flicker of hurt in her eyes once she realised what he meant and regretted his words before she shuttered her features.

  He went to sooth her but stopped himself, “Are you well?” She nodded her head. “Do not lie abed long wife, there is much to do.” and Without another word he donned his plaid and walked out of the room. Shouting orders as he descended the stairs.

  All the gentleness was gone with the morning light, Amelia fumed at her husband’s mood swings as if she was the one lying abed without his big beefy body trapping her she would have been out a long time ago she was not lazy and she was not idle. With her resolve firmly in place, she got herself out of bed and decided to ignore her husband from now on.

  A knock came at the door “Excuse me milady the Chieftain has sent up a hot bath for you and we will need the sheets for the ramparts.” Amelia blushed at the thought of the whole Keep having to see her virgin blood flying in the breeze a sign that the marriage was now fully enforceable. He just needed her compliant to prove his claim on her dowry and that parcel of land. Amelia felt an ache in her heart, not sure why but reality set in that this was the lot of a woman merely a means to an end. Her entire life she had been nothing more than a means to an end. Why did she expect anything would be different now? Two women came in and hung the sheet out so it flapped in the breeze.

  Amelia was surprised to see Orla again. She stood with towelling and fresh water, bussed around the chamber, setting things right and stoking the fire. Amelia also notice the strange accent she spoke like the Norsemen of old. She would have to ask her someday about her heritage. Amelia was not used to having servants, but she thanked Orla as she enjoyed the warm bath. As they chatted, Amelia decided she liked Orla.

  After Amelia had finished her bath and was dressed, Orla was helping her manage her unruly hair when she asked, “Mistress would you like me to attend to you each morning or help you in any way? It would be my honour to serve you?”

  “Thank you for the offer Orla but I think I can manage on my own. I am not used to having help.”

  Orla’s face dropped, “I understand.” She put on a forced smile and stood by the door as men arrived to remove the bath. Amelia said thanks while Orla continued to hover.

  When the door opened again with a knock Deidre walked in held herself with a haughty expression. “Mistress,” she curtsied “Lady Jonet sent me to assist you.” She turned to Orla and Amelia caught her sneer. “I apologise mistress but there seems to have been a mistake I am your assistant today.” With that she commanded, "Orla please come with me.” Both women stepped outside and closed the door.

  Amelia found it peculiar and having such an inquisitive nature she ran to the door to listen in and sure enough she could hear quiet conversation outside. She spied down the keyhole to see better. Eavesdropping that is what they called it, she had learnt that from a crofter at Dunbar, he always said no one found any information out by just lying around waiting for it to hit their ears. She had to agree. She leaned closer to hear better.

  “Orla how dare you attend the mistress.” Deidre snapped.

  “I was only doing what the Chieftain asked me yester-eve.” Orla replied.

  “He must be mistaken he has been very distracted lately or he would never have put the bastard of a Viking’s whore in here.”

  Orla gasped, "You know nothing about my mother.”

  “Neither do you orphan.”

  Something about the conversation raised Amelia’s hackles. She knew what it was like to have people call your mother a whore.

  Orla replied, “Tis better than being a hacket bitch.” Deidre slapped Orla across the face, Amelia could just make out Orla’s eyes water.

  Amelia made her mind up. She opened the door abruptly. “Orla, what on earth is taking you so long? I have been waiting an age for you to assist me.”

  Orla looked confused, “Sorry mistress ... I am not sure.”

  Amelia saw the sting on her cheek. “Well, come on then, are you going to do my hair or not? I told you I need someone to help me in the mornings, are you daft?” She made a hurried gesture for Orla to step inside when Deidre was not looking. Once safely ensconced Amelia turned to Deidre. “Thank you for coming, I will let you know if I need anything else but for now tis under control.” With that, she shut the door in
Deidre’s face.

  “Thank you, mistress but really I don’t think I should help it’s not my place.”

  “Nonsense, was it not the Chieftain who sent you?”

  “Well, yes but..”

  “Then he must have had an excellent reason? I will not cross his decisions now.”

  “You mean it?”

  “Truth be told, I really need help in the mornings. I have never been a lady before.”

  “Then it will be my pleasure to help you.”

  Orla took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders and smiled.

  “What do you know of Deidre?”

  “She was lady’s maid to the late mistress and after she died, Deidre moved on to help Lady Jonet.”

  “What is Deidre she like?”

  “She seems to keep to herself, but she just does not like me.” She shrugged.

  Amelia pondered it a while she sat quietly as Orla expertly donned her hair, she dressed her in beautiful blue airisaidh with a white linen long-sleeved shirt inside and warm hose underneath and fastened the back.

  “Orla this looks lovely, I hardly recognised myself.”

  “You look exquisite mistress”

  “Please call me Amelia.”

  “I cannot mistress it would be disrespectful.”

  “What if when it’s just us you call me Amelia?”

  “Aye I can do that.”

  “Orla if you don’t mind me asking, where are you from? Your features I have never seen the like before.”

  “Tis all right mistr…I mean Amelia, I am an outsider really. I was an orphan left when I were five with Morag.”