Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Christ, the water feels good.
Arthur let out a sigh of relief as he sank down into the tub, steam rising all around him.
He was in a washroom separate from the one in their chambers. And he’d had to wait longer for his bath to be readied, as he’d insisted that they draw hers first. More than likely, she was halfway through hers by now. And he was just getting started.
He plucked a bar of soap off the small tray perched on the side of the tub, scrubbing at the dirt and the muck that had accumulated from the day of travel.
Having just bathed and shaved the night before, he didn’t have nearly as much to do.
But he had just killed three men that day, so there was still a considerable bit of dried blood all over his skin.
By the time he was done scrubbing, his skin was pink. But he felt like a man reborn. He rose from the tub, water running down his skin. Once it was dry enough, he stepped out.
He grabbed the long linen shirt he’d laid beside the tub, tugging it on before stepping into the soft pair of undergarments he’d chosen.
Stepping out of the bathing chamber and into the connecting room, he immediately spotted Marissa. He’d been right that she’d likely finish before him.
But somehow, he hadn’t quite prepared himself for what it would be like to see her immediately following her bath.
Her short curls were wet, falling down and over her forehead as they attempted to dry. She was wearing a dressing gown that had been pulled tightly over her shoulders.
During the time he’d been washing, one of the servants had come in and lit the fire in the hearth. It crackled merrily as he approached.
“Did ye have a nice bath?” he asked.
She looked up at him. She was sitting at the wooden table between the two windows, which had been laden with food. Already she’d eaten nearly half a plate.
“I did,” she admitted as he slid into the chair across from her. “It was nice to wash the blood off.”
He understood, although he didn’t say as much. Silence fell between them, broken only by the soft, gentle crackling of the fire as he piled his plate with food—potatoes, onions, beef, and carrots. Some of his all-time favorites.
They were a bit cold, as supper had been served a few hours ago. But that did not make them any less delicious as Arthur bit into them.
“Yer cook is quite skilled,” Marissa remarked.
Arthur nodded. “She’s worked for me family since I was a lad,” he explained. “And she’s trainin’ her daughter to take over soon. We’ll give her some easier work around the castle.”
Marissa’s eyebrows shot up. “Ye would still keep her on?”
“She’s worked here all her life.” Arthur cocked his head to the side. “Do ye think we would just throw her out on her arse because she’s gettin’ old? I may be a brute, but I am nae a savage. She’s a part of Clan Reid, and we take care of our own.”
Marissa fell silent again, turning her attention to her plate. She took a few bites, the quiet creeping over them.
“I didnae mean to cause offense,” she murmured suddenly.
Arthur shook his head. “Nay offense was taken.”
Their eyes met, and she seemed to be searching his face for something. The truth, maybe?
Has the lass nae learned by now that I willnae lie to her?
But he didn’t bristle under the weight of her gaze. Instead, he remained calm, meeting her gaze passively.
She’d been through a lot throughout the day. It would make sense that she was a little off-kilter—a little hesitant.
Finally, Marissa nodded, some of the tension leaving her with the slump of her shoulders.
“I’m just tired, I think,” she admitted.
He could see the truth of those words on the planes of her face. The skin around her eyes was tight, and shadows were painted underneath them. And there was a stoop to her spine that hadn’t been there before.
“Good thing there’s a bed in the room right behind us, then,” Arthur said.
She didn’t look at him, opting instead to turn her attention back to her plate. But he didn’t miss the flash of color that danced along her cheeks as they finished their meal.
The moment they were done, Arthur stood up. He told Marissa to go ahead and lie down, then strode out of the room and looked for a maid to clear the table.
Luckily, he found one quickly. He didn’t recognize her, and he assumed she’d been added to the staff in the five years he’d been at war.
The young woman looked up as he approached where she’d been dusting.
“Me Laird,” she greeted, quickly bowing her head.
“Clear these away,” Arthur grunted, his hands waving to indicate the dishes on the table before them.
The girl nodded obediently, her eyes downcast as she began to sweep the dishes into her arms. He waited while the girl did her job, the air filled with the clinking of porcelain as she cleared away the dishes.
It was only when the dishes had been cleared and the maid had left the room that Arthur turned to face the door to the bedchamber. He eyed it warily, knowing that she was beyond it, nestled beneath the covers of his bed, and the thought made him want to groan.
The entire time he had been sitting across from Marissa, pressure had begun building within him.
He’d told her that he was not a brute, had assured her that he had no plans to take her before their wedding. And he had no plans to go back on his word.
However, none of that stopped the fact that Arthur was still insanely attracted to her. Seeing Marissa with her wet hair, in nothing but her dressing robe, knowing that soon he would be sharing a bed with her.
It was enough to drive him mad.
As soon as enough time had passed that he had regained some of his control, he walked back toward the room.
Warmth washed over him from the still crackling fire, and it popped merrily as if in greeting. As he stepped across the threshold that separated the actual bedchamber from the sitting room, he was encased in shadow.
Only a bit of light from the flames behind him filtered into the room, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
Marissa was lying on her back, her eyes shining in the dim firelight as she watched him.
“The bed is quite large,” she mused.
Arthur grunted in agreement. Without giving it much thought, he reached down and tugged his linen shirt over his head, baring his torso.
Marissa gasped. “What in the Lord’s name are ye doin’?” she cried. “Put that back on!”
But Arthur did not put his shirt back on. Instead, he merely met her eyes and smirked.
“Did ye nae hear me?” Marissa cried. “Put yer shirt back on right now!”
She recalled his words when he’d promised that he would not do anything until she was begging him. She hadn’t doubted them up until that moment. But now, as an amused and feral grin spread across Arthur’s face, Marissa could no longer be certain.
“I’ll nae put clothes on to go to sleep, wee kitten.” His eyes danced with each word. “I’ve never been able to sleep with clothes on me body, and I’ll nae be changin’ that because we’re sharin’ a bed.”
Marissa sputtered. “But ye promised ye wouldnae do anythin’ until I begged. And I am nae beggin’. In fact, the only thing I’m beggin’ for is for ye to put yer damned clothes back on.”
He paused, and for a moment, Marissa’s heart felt lighter. Would he listen to her? Was he going to tug his shirt back over his head and make her feel a little more comfortable?
Apparently, she had no such luck. Her soon-to-be husband simply shook his head.
“I intend to keep me promise,” Arthur said, his deep voice reverberating through the room. “Just because I’ll be sleepin’ next to ye, doesnae mean I’ll be puttin’ me hands on ye. It’ll all be alright, kitten.”
He’d called her that name thrice in a row, but it had only just registered.
Marissa shook her head, prepared to argue back.
She didn’t want this. Didn’t want this man who she barely knew to be sharing her bed. Didn’t want the same man to be sleeping next to her, wearing nothing more than his sleeping bloomers. But least of all, she did not want him calling her cute names and getting her head all confused.
She puffed out her chest and drew in a breath, readying herself to lay it all out before her. But then Arthur began to move.
He crossed the few steps between him and the bed. But as his weight shifted, his massive form was no longer blocking the light from the fire in the sitting room. And for the first time, Marissa was able to see the glory of him in full.
Oh Lord, but he’s beautiful. Like a work of art, he is.
Her mouth went dry as she watched Arthur’s muscular torso move with his confident, easy strides. His chest bulged with well-defined muscles, a smattering of dark hair across it.
An image filled her mind, one where he crawled into bed beside her and she nestled into his chest. Pressing her face against the soft downiness of it, nuzzling into it, and feeling his chest move as he breathed beneath her.
She imagined how his heartbeat would sound, strong and proud beneath her ears as she lay there. She wondered also how that same heartbeat might quicken as she touched him. She’d run her fingers along the planes of his torso, listening to the way it—
“Everythin’ all right, wee kitten?”
Arthur’s voice broke through her fantasies, sending them shattering like glass as her attention came well and fully back to the present. Realization as to how far astray her thoughts had wandered washed over her, and she was glad for the shadows in the room as heat flared in her cheeks.
“Aye,” she grunted, sounding anything but all right. “I’m fine. I just want to roll over and get some sleep without ye interruptin’ me.”
“Ye seem rather angry,” Arthur responded, his voice hinting at his amusement.
If I could see him right now, would he be smirkin’ at me?
“I’m nae angry,” Marissa snapped. “I’m tired.”
“Then go to sleep.”
Irritation surged through her, but she didn’t respond. In the very short time that she’d known this man, she’d come to find that he was someone who liked to poke and prod people.
She could only imagine the smug look on his face getting more and more pronounced as she continued to argue back, but she would not give him the satisfaction.
With a huff, Marissa tugged the blanket up to her chin and rolled over.
At least the mattress feels like heaven.
When she’d first laid down on it, she’d let out a groan. It was stuffed full of soft, downy feathers, and it shifted lightly beneath her as he rolled onto his side.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled, and the weight of his gaze fell on her. The firelight in the sitting room flickered, the light that came into their bedchamber weak. But it was enough to cast a faint shadow on the wall she was facing, and she watched as it danced.
She had hoped that it would help her fall asleep, the mindless staring at the shadows on the wall. But as the minutes ticked by, sleep evaded her.
Rolling over onto her back, Marissa stared at the ceiling, gritting her teeth. Beside her, Arthur’s breathing was even.
Is he asleep, or is he just pretendin’?
She listened to the silence that had fallen between them.
But no matter how much she strained, she couldn’t quite tell.
At one point, she felt certain she’d heard the softest, lightest snore coming from his side of the bed, but it was quiet enough that she couldn’t be certain if she’d actually heard it or if it was only wishful thinking.
Time passed slowly. Or, at least, Marissa thought that it did. She didn’t know for sure, because there was no clock in this room.
But the fire in the other room died down, going from its hearty light to a weak ember before going out. And she was certain, at least, that that meant quite a chunk of time had passed.
And still, sleep had not found her. She tossed and turned, trying as hard as she could to get her body and her mind to shut down, but they refused.
Surely he’s asleep by now. There’s nay way he’s been lyin’ there awake all this time.
Ignoring the fact that she herself had been lying awake the entire time, she let out a huff of exasperation. At this rate, when the sun started to rise, she’d likely still be staring at these four walls.
I have to do somethin’ to tire meself out.
Marissa didn’t think as she threw back the covers.
The air beyond the bed was much cooler than it had been beneath the blankets, especially now that the fire was nothing but softly glowing embers.
Her flesh broke out in goosebumps, and she tugged a thick robe from a hook beside the bed and wrapped her arms around herself.
It was much warmer with the robe wrapped around her, and she sighed with relief. But now, she had no idea what she’d gotten out of bed for.
What could she do in the middle of the night that would tire her out?
She stood beside the bed, weighing all of the options available to her. But there was only one choice, really.
Marissa could go for a walk around the castle grounds. Surely that was well within her rights. She would become the lady of the castle soon enough, after all.
She took a step forward, wondering where she might find a lantern, when suddenly a hand lashed out through the darkness. It clamped around her wrist, and she couldn’t stop the high-pitched scream that flew from her lips.