The Wedding (39 page)

And still he didn't say a word. His close scrutiny made her uneasy in no time at all. What was the matter with him?

“It's a pleasure to meet you,” she blurted out, looking up at him while she waited for him to stop gawking at her and say something in return.

She was surprised the man standing before her was related to Euphemia. They didn't look anything alike. Raen evidently favored his father's side of the family, which really wasn't all that fortunate, because they must have been rather dull-looking people.

He wasn't unpleasantly dull, just rather ordinary, with lackluster features and pale coloring and hazel eyes that couldn't decide what color to be. He was tall, nearly as tall as Connor, as a matter of fact, yet given to fat around his chest, not muscle, which meant he didn't do much strenuous work on his land.

The way he was staring at her made her horribly uncomfortable. His gaze had been centered on her mouth for surely what must have been a full minute, and then dropped to her breasts, where it lingered even now.

It wasn't appropriate behavior at all. But he was from the far north, she reminded herself, and therefore didn't know any better.

“You're a very beautiful woman, Brenna,” he whispered, as he clasped her hand in his. “I hope Connor realizes your value.”

“Surely you realize a woman's value isn't determined by her appearance, but what is inside her heart, and I assure you, Raen, my husband does recognize my worth. I do thank you for your compliment,” she hastily added, lest he take offense because she'd just instructed him.

“Yes, of course,” he agreed. He bowed low to her then, and while he was telling her how very eager he'd been to meet her, he was slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth along the palm of her hand. She couldn't understand why he would want to do such a thing. She certainly didn't enjoy it, but when she tried to pull away from him, he tightened his hold. She made up her mind then and there that she would be polite to the man, but never, ever like him.

“Come and sit with me at the table. I'm getting an ache in my back craning around to look at you,” Euphemia called out.

Seizing the opportunity, Brenna jerked her hand away before turning to his mother. “Madam, wouldn't you be more comfortable sitting in the tall chair?”

“You want me to sit at the head of the table while Connor is away?”

Euphemia apparently didn't need an answer to her question, for quicker than a goblet can be tossed from the table to the floor, she took possession of the position of power. “You are very thoughtful, child.”

Raen pressed against Brenna's back, and when she tried to move away, he put his hands down on her shoulders to keep her there. “Mother, Brenna isn't a child. One look at her and anyone can see she's a woman.”

“Now, Raen, don't criticize me,” Euphemia pleaded.

The son ignored his mother and leaned down close to Brenna's ear. “Sit by me at the table and tell me all about your wedding.”

If she turned around to answer him, she knew she wouldn't be able to hide her repulsion, and so she directed her remarks to his mother instead. “I mustn't intrude upon your joyful reunion with your mother.”

“Nonsense, I only left her side a week ago.”

“I don't know why I assumed it had been a much longer separation,” she lied, for she remembered quite well that Euphemia had insisted she hadn't seen her son in a long, long while. “But a week is still a long time to a mother, isn't that so, Lady MacAlister?”

“Not really,” Euphemia answered. “Raen, you're standing entirely too close to Brenna. I'm not about to be ignored any longer. Come over here and sit with me.”

“I hadn't realized I was standing close,” he said with such a tone of surprise that his mother obviously thought he was sincere. Brenna wasn't so easily fooled, however. She resisted an urge to sigh with relief as soon as he let go of her and strolled over to the table.

“Brenna, you have my permission to go about your duties. Raen, I have some interesting news to tell you.”

Brenna hurried toward the entrance before Euphemia could change her mind.

Raen stopped her. “We heard thunder. Wasn't it raining when you came inside?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Then why aren't your clothes wet?”

She wasn't about to admit the truth, that she had been inside several minutes before the downpour started, for then she would have to explain what she'd been doing, and they'd know she had deliberately listened to their private conversation.

“Two very thoughtful servants held cloaks over my head.”

His nod indicated he accepted her lie. “I hope to God the rain lets up soon. I hate being cooped up inside.”

She thought that it was rather peculiar that the rain would keep him in. Connor's soldiers went about their duties regardless of the weather. Raen wasn't at all like the other men, however. He had been overindulged and pampered by his mother and probably didn't realize what a weakling he appeared to be.

How in heaven's name was she ever going to get through supper tonight? She hoped to God she didn't have to sit next to Connor's stepbrother. The mere possibility made her lose her appetite.

She avoided the hall for the rest of the day until it was time to join her relatives for the evening meal. To her surprise, the evening turned out to be quite pleasant. Not only was Euphemia less abrasive, Raen was also somewhat charming. He sat across from her at the table, entertaining both his mother and her with amusing stories from his past. By the time she went upstairs, she was actually looking forward to sharing her next meal with him.

After spending another lovely evening with him the following night, she began to feel guilty for initially judging him so harshly. She had thought the worst of him and now realized how wrong she'd been. Granted, Raen had been overly enthusiastic at their first encounter, but not because he had lecherous intentions she decided. Perhaps he just didn't know any better. And maybe he was trying to counter his mother's uncertain attitude toward her son's wife by showing Brenna she had his complete approval.

She went to bed that night feeling she had simply overreacted and vowed to never let that happen again. Everyone deserved a second chance.

On the third morning of Connor's absence, Brenna awakened to sunshine and laughter. She threw off her covers and went to the window to look out at the glorious day. Servants were hurrying about below, and from the joy in their faces she knew they loved being outside as much as she did.

There were at least a hundred things she wanted to accomplish today, and while she knew she shouldn't put her duties aside, she meant to do just that in favor of exploring the hills.

Smiling in anticipation, she hurried to get dressed and go downstairs. The hall was deserted, and though she tried, she couldn't get the heavy door open so she could go down to the courtyard. She wasn't defeated, however, and turned to go out the back door instead.

“Good morning, mi'lady. Did you sleep well?” Netta called out from the hall.

“Yes, thank you,” she answered. “Has Lady MacAlister come down yet?”

“No, mi'lady, she hasn't. Raen has already left the holding to go riding for the day. He told me he wouldn't be back until supper.”

“He went outside the walls with some of Connor's soldiers?”

“No, he rode alone. He's taking a risk, isn't he?”

“He must not think so,” Brenna replied with a shrug. “I wonder where he plans to go,” she added.

“It wouldn't have been proper for me to ask,” Netta said.

Brenna wasn't paying attention to the servant now, for she'd only just noticed the pile of items stacked on the top of the low chest in the entrance. As soon as Netta convinced her they looked familiar to her because they belonged to her, Netta helped carry everything back up to Brenna's room.

That evening, Raen returned to the holding just in time to share his evening meal with his mother and Brenna. He looked tired from his ride, but was still quite pleasant, and once again, he did nothing that was in the least inappropriate.

He was ready to go upstairs at the very same time she was. He clasped hold of her elbow and walked by her side, which was really quite gallant, and told her a humorous story that made both of them laugh. His hand brushed across her breasts as he reached for the door latch, but it was apparent from the innocent look on his face that he hadn't even realized what he had done, leaving her to wonder why she was so quick to become suspicious again.

What was wrong with her, she wondered while she prepared for bed, and finally concluded that the strain of trying to win Euphemia's approval was making her a nervous twit. 'Twas the truth, the woman could make a saint lose her temper. No wonder Brenna had her guard up all the time. Connor's stepmother was an extremely difficult woman to please, and winning her over was proving to be far more difficult than Brenna had anticipated. While Euphemia never openly criticized her, she still managed to find fault with everything she did, and in a backhanded, condescending way that made Brenna want to clench her teeth together.

She wasn't about to give up, of course, and decided she would simply double her efforts.

The following morning, Raen had once again left the holding to go riding alone before Brenna had come downstairs. She spent a trying day seeing to Euphemia's every comfort and was worn out by supper.

The worst was yet to come, however. Brenna's evening wasn't at all delightful; it was god-awful. She tried to engage Raen in conversation, but he was in a sullen, defiant mood. Being charming must have been a strain on him, because he discarded all attempts at being the least bit polite.

He acted like a lecher again. He never took his gaze off her—or rather, her mouth—throughout the endless meal, and from the smirk on his face and the look in his eyes, she knew he was fully aware of how uncomfortable he was making her.

Euphemia chose to be oblivious to what was going on. Brenna doubted she would have done anything about it even if asked to. Her devotion to her son blinded her to his faults. She considered Raen to be perfect, which was more than evident from the way she constantly bowed to his wishes.

Up until that night, Euphemia found fault with just about everyone and everything else, though, except the meals. Brenna thought her mother-in-law was enjoying her food; she ate everything on her trencher just as she had at her previous meals, but after the table was cleared and the servants left the hall, Euphemia announced her dissatisfaction.

“Brenna, I realize you've been unprepared for company for the last several days and have obviously been in too much of a rush to go over supper arrangements thoroughly with your cook, and for that reason I have held my tongue. I cannot keep silent any longer, however, and must insist you replace the incompetent woman in your kitchen with someone more skilled. Tonight was the worst disaster yet. I swear I ate more fat than fowl, and the tarts were so bitter and stringy I could barely get them down. Has Connor had to put up with this poor excuse for food long?”

“Mother, Brenna hasn't lived here long enough to know if he has or not,” Raen snapped.

Euphemia continued to frown at Brenna. “You look flushed, dear. Have you put in a long day?”

“Yes, madam.”

“Why don't you go upstairs to bed? Raen will be happy to keep me company.”

She couldn't excuse herself fast enough. Unfortunately, Raen followed her to the entrance steps. He grabbed hold of her arm, told her he was escorting her, and pressed against her side. She was all but hanging over the railing in her attempt to put some distance between them.

“There isn't any need to go upstairs with me, Raen. I'm sure you have more important things to do.”

“You've already taken one serious fall, and these steps are dangerously steep,” he argued as he pulled her along.

“How did you hear about my fall?”

“I asked one of the servants how you injured your forehead, and she told me you fell down the stairs. I would be remiss in my duty to my brother if I didn't make certain you were kept safe while he was away.”

“I fell down because I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I am paying attention now.”

He let go of her arm, giving her only a few seconds to feel relieved before he slipped his arm around her waist.

“Please let go of me,” she asked.

He ignored her. “Are you eager to see Connor again? I know you must miss him, especially at night when you're in bed and you're wanting to feel him between your thighs.”

“Do not dare talk to me in such a way,” she ordered. She was so furious, she could barely control herself and increased her struggles to get away from him.

He shifted his grip, moving upward until his fisted hand rested just below her right breast, making it impossible for her to struggle now because, every time she moved, his knuckles rubbed against her.

He never once looked down at her or showed any reaction at all to the pain she knew she was inflicting in his arm with her nails digging into his flesh.

“I could take care of you while he's away,” he whispered. “I know how to make the ache go away. Leave your door unlatched tonight, Brenna.”

Stunned by the filth he spewed, she could barely keep her wits about her. “If you don't let go of me, I swear I'll scream.”

“Why in heaven's name would you want to scream?” he asked in mock astonishment, while his fingers slowly uncoiled and spread upward to squeeze her breast.

Anger gave her the strength of five men. She drove her elbow into his side and blessedly got just the reaction she wanted. He grunted in obvious pain and let go of her. She moved back against the door of her bedroom and reached for her dagger. She felt a second's panic when she touched her side and realized the knife wasn't in the pouch looped to her belt, but Raen wasn't looking at her now or trying to grab her again.