Tamed by a Laird (32 page)

“Art awake, lass?”

Hugh had wakened some time before, noted their positions, and told himself he should not risk waking her by moving. The memory
of that thought made him smile when she stiffened and wakened anyway. Remembering certain dreams he had had, he hoped this
was not just another one.

Her breast fit his hand perfectly. So did her bum cheek, come to that.

He wanted to see if their mates would fit as perfectly. In truth, he wanted to explore her whole, fascinating body from top
to toe.

He wondered with a grin what God would think about that!

She had not answered him, making him wonder if she worried that he would take his hands away if she did. He hoped that was
what she was thinking. No God with any kindness in Him would continually put a man in such a position unless He expected the
man to take advantage of his opportunities.

“Jenny,” he whispered, “I know you’re awake.”

“I think I’m too sleepy to move,” she murmured. “I’m nice and warm.”

“Aye, you are,” he agreed. “But a healthy man has limited command over his urges and instincts, lass.”

“What if they examined me and found me no longer a virgin?”

His breath stopped in his lungs. When he could breathe again, he said, “I think you know that my brother is more interested
in your estates than in your maidenhead, but he could make life very hard for you. Consummating our marriage would also make
an annulment more difficult to get, I’m sure.”

“Then I wish you would ravish me,” she muttered. “By my troth, sir, I’d rather have your hands on me than your brother’s,
or some horrid midwife’s.”

“Ah, lassie, you tempt me sorely.”

“Submit to the temptation, my lord. It will do us both good.” She turned over then, and the hand on her bottom cheek was suddenly
at the fork of her legs.

Gently, he shifted it upward to her smooth, bare belly.

“Would you not like to straighten your clothing, Jenny? You cannot be comfortable with it as tangled as it is.”

“I’m not, so help me pull off this kirtle,” she said. When he hesitated, she added with a sigh, “I don’t blame you for finding
it easy to resist my charms, sir. I’ve had this dress on now for two days without even taking it off to air it out.”

“I only wish it were that easy to resist you,” he said, not moving.

She sighed again. “Your odious brother could not keep his hands off me, and I’ve heard that a woman’s first night can be painful.
’Tis likely he will enjoy making it so. His attentions would prove the easier to bear if—”

“Stop it, Jenny! I don’t want to hear about Reid or first nights.”

“No more do I,” she agreed. “I don’t know why I said that. Perhaps I hoped you might teach me what to expect, but prithee,
do not take your hand away. I like the feel of it against my skin.”

“You would be more comfortable in just your shift if it will keep you warm,” he said, wondering if he was being more foolish
than Gilly and Gawkus together.

“
You
keep me warm enough,” she said.

He had taken off his breeks and jack, and was sleeping in his shirt and netherstocks. Swearing to himself that he would take
nothing more off, whatever the temptation, he helped her doff her kirtle. He realized only when his hand met a bare breast
that she had managed to push off her shift with the gown.

“You, my lass, are not to be trusted,” he said severely.

“Nay, for I fear I am a wicked, wanton woman,” she said. “But you are my husband. It is only right for you to teach me. What
does a good husband do first?”

His dreams had predicted nothing like this.

Her skin was so soft and smooth that he feared his calloused hands would hurt her, but she did not seem to mind his stroking
her.

“Do husbands not talk whilst they are seeing to their wives?”

“Some do,” he said, shifting onto his side. “Others find better uses for their wives’ mouths, and their own,” he added, capturing
her mouth with his.

Her lips were full and soft, and he took time to savor their softness. The danger in what they were doing only excited him
more. She was forbidden fruit in one way, but legally, she was
his
fruit to peel, taste, and enjoy as he pleased.

The paradox teased and taunted him. His baser self urged him to take her swiftly, to claim her utterly as it was his right
to do. His nobler self—by far the lesser entity in the battle now raging within him—urged caution, reminded him of promises
and honor, and recommended instant cessation of all illicit activity.

“Just a taste,” he murmured, and his baser urges danced within.

“What did you say?” she asked.

“Shhh,” he whispered, capturing her mouth again. His hands busied themselves, stroking as much of her as he could easily reach,
albeit staying away from the area his hand had found when she turned over.

“I want to touch you,” she whispered.

His cock, already alert, stiffened and pulsed eagerly.

“Nay,” he groaned. “We dare not.”

His baser self ached for her to plead with him, to un-lace his shirt and netherstocks. It urged him to tease her more, to
make her ache as he did.

He shifted his mouth to her nearest nipple and licked it.

She moaned and arced beneath him. He reached for the other breast, teasing the nipple there with his thumb as he taunted the
nearer one with his lips and tongue.

One of her hands clutched his hair. The other reached under his shirttail and found his belly. His cock pulsed harder, as
if stretching toward her hand.

“Take me,” she muttered. “I don’t want Reid to be first.”

The pulsing below stopped abruptly. She could not have reminded him more sharply of what he was doing to his own brother had
she slapped him.

Drawing a long breath, he eased himself away from her.

“I’m sorry, lass, but we must not do this,” he said. “I wish we could. I do not blame myself for our marriage, but I would
always blame myself if we were to continue now. You are too innocent. You do not know what the consequences could be—lifelong
consequences for you, and that even if we did not beget a child.”

He heard her breath catch and knew the possibility had not occurred to her.

Then, as he eased farther away, she sat up and said, “Phaeline was right; you do not change.” And with that, she turned her
back on him and curled into a tight ball, clutching blankets around her.

He wanted to comfort her but could think of nothing to say that would not make things worse. Softly, he said, “I do not want
to hurt you, Jenny, but I fear that I have. Still, it would hurt you more did I not put a stop to it.”

Receiving no reply, he lay back and tried to sleep.

The journey to Annan House seemed too swift to Jenny. Hugh, having snapped twice at Lucas as they packed up, had fallen silent
once they were on the road. Lucas remained silent, too, more doleful than ever. But riding between them, lost in her own thoughts,
Jenny felt as if the miles simply sped by.

She could not stop thinking about her interlude with Hugh in the middle of the night. She had only to close her eyes and she
could feel his big hands on her—hard, possessive hands—or his lips devouring her. Her body tingled more with each new thought
until she felt hot all over again.

Each time she glanced at him, though, he looked the same, grim and unapproachable. He had set a fast pace after wrapping the
horses’ hooves in burlap to keep them from slipping if they struck ice on the road.

Before fording the river Annan, he stopped long enough to unwrap their hooves, then dried them again after the crossing and
put on dry wrappings. Half an hour later, they passed through the gates of Annan House into the cobbled forecourt.

Gathering her dignity, Jenny waited for Hugh to lift her down.

As he dismounted, the front door opened and Dunwythie, his wife, and his two daughters hurried down the steps to meet them.
They were crossing the courtyard when Reid appeared in the open doorway behind them.

Jenny sighed. To say that Reid looked angry was not enough. He looked ready to murder someone. “Me, most likely,” she murmured.

“Don’t look at him,” Hugh advised, startling her. He’d dismounted and come up behind her while she watched the others, and
was waiting to help her dismount.

His warm hands caught her at the waist, and she rested her hands on his shoulders. As he lifted her down, she smiled uncertainly
at him.

“You have not said a word to me since we left the woods,” she said. “Why offer me advice now?”

“ ’Tis good advice, lass, useful at
all
times,” he said. “Never let the villains know they can disconcert you. Put your wee chin in the air now. Just think of all
the things you’d like to say to me.”

Her chin went up until she looked him in the eyes.

“That’s it,” he said. “You’ll do.”

Hoping she could believe him, she turned toward the house and right into Mairi’s arms.

“I’m so glad he found you!” Mairi exclaimed, hugging her hard.

“Me, too,” Fiona said. “But why did you run away, Jenny?”

“That will do, my dears,” Phaeline said sternly. “You have greeted your cousin Janet and may talk more with her later. But
first your lord father has much to say to her, and she will not thank you for your presence. Go back inside now.”

Jenny watched them go back up the steps and inside past the scowling Reid, feeling as if the only family members she cared
about were basely deserting her.

Hugh said quietly as he shook hands with Dunwythie, “I warrant the fewer people present for our conversation the better, sir.
I’d like to speak with you privately first, if I may.”

“Don’t be absurd, Hugh,” Phaeline said. “Reid has a right to hear anything you will say about Janet’s misbehavior, as do I.
I have stood as a mother to her these past eight months, have I not? We will adjourn to my solar at once.”

“She might like to refresh herself first,” Hugh said evenly as they walked toward the steps, where Reid still awaited them.

“Aye, my love,” Dunwythie said to Phaeline. “ ’Tis only—”

“Her needs can await our pleasure, my lord. We have waited here without one word of her for nearly a fortnight. Poor Reid
has been most impatient.”

“Then I’m glad you managed to keep him here,” Hugh said as they began to mount the steps. “You did want her return accomplished
quietly, after all.”

He was watching Jenny as she warily eyed Reid. Phaeline’s attitude, Reid’s visible fury, and now Dunwythie’s silence made
Hugh certain the lass would not prevail against them all by herself. He was glad he was there.

“Where the devil have you been?” Reid demanded angrily, reaching for her when she was still a step below him.

“Doucely, lad, doucely,” Hugh said, putting a hand out to intervene. “You will get more answers to civil questions than to
rants. And, prithee, do not carry on so before the servants. I have been at pains, after all, to manage this quietly.”

“Where is Peg?” Phaeline asked tersely.

“She decided to stay where she is,” Hugh replied.

“But she is my servant! She had no right to make such a decision.”