Chapter 8
It was well into the evening, the moon shining high in the sky so that Rose could see it through her window, and she was still not asleep. She’d gone up to her new bed chamber, requested hot water for a bath, and Peggy had helped her to undress with the intention of going straight to bed.
That had clearly not happened.
Rose was too on edge. The castle was so different. It smelled different, made different sounds, and each creak or groan was so unfamiliar that she never felt settled.
It could also have been the insistent energy worming through her blood, this fierce irritation that would not let her go.
Dominik’s words haunted her, but perhaps greater still, Rose’s own words dogged her and would not let her rest. She’d immediately regretted the harshness of what she’d said during dinner, even if she was still quite upset.
The Laird had joked about ale. It clearly wasn’t a life-or-death matter, but she felt so belittled, so looked down on.
It hit too strong a nerve. When Lord Egerton stole her dowry, she suffered greatly.
The whispers and stares that followed her everywhere were unsettling and she just could not stand to have anyone looking at her like that, as if they thought something was wrong with her, again.
Like she was a “mark,” a na?ve girl who knew nothing of the world.
Worse, and it pained her to admit this, Rose couldn’t stand for Dominik to look at her that way in particular.
She wanted to impress the castle and its Laird with her abilities. To have him think so little of her caused Rose so much distress that she had been tossing and turning for several hours.
Still, she could hear commotion in the halls for some time, with it only becoming quiet the past half-hour or so.
People of the castle were still very much awake for most of the time Rose hid in her room.
And despite wishing this day would finally come to an end, she could not sleep; her body itself seemed to think it strange that she would try so very early.
You are nothing more than a fool for thinking that this experience would be anything more than what most marriages are.
Rose flipped onto her other side, her legs tangling up in her shift beneath the covers.
She flung them off, frustrated and fighting with her undergarment to an impossible end.
It would not stay down, always riding up the moment she lifted her leg.
It was times like this that she longed for the masculine option of trousers or breeks.
In fact, so much about the world seemed better for the opposite sex. It was designed that way, after all. Lord Egerton was hardly facing consequences for what he had done to her, and it would always be to her husband that she would defer.
Though she knew well enough that the inner workings of a marriage were indeed complex, with many husbands thinking of their wives as partners in the care and management of a household, the same could not be said for most in that position.
Looking out the long window bordered in stone, Rose set her eyes on the moon, drinking in its calm light. She longed to be home with her parents just then and hoped dearly that they were all right.
“Be well, Mother and Father. Please do not land yourselves in another mess when I am too far away to help.”
Knock, knock, knock.
Rose jumped up in bed, jerking her attention to the door. Someone was outside her room, but why? She’d not expected the Laird to make his way to her chambers after what they’d spoken about before at the inn. Had she been wrong to assume as much?
The thought made her blood run cold, and she stared at the wooden passage that kept her safe in her bedchambers.
“Rose,” a familiar voice called out, and she flinched, squeezing her eyes shut.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Daenae make me stand out here, lass.”
Gathering what strength she had, Rose approached the door and slid free the bolt that kept it locked. Dominik stood on the other side of the threshold, dressed down to just his shirt and kilt.
“Good evening, my laird.” Rose did her best to offer a slight bow of her head, her heart screaming in her ears. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival?”
The Laird pushed in, quickly making his way across the room.
Rose shut the door behind him, turning to face Dominik once again with her heart in her throat.
She watched him as he prowled in front of the low fire, the light in the chamber dim.
It cast in him into stark contrast, the curves of his face and muscles standing out fiercely.
She was upset with him. That was what she tried to remind herself, but the way he just appeared like he did, the rugged look of him so stripped of all the usual formal layers. Her pulse was a hummingbird in her chest and neck, flitting about as she tried to steady herself.
Why does the man need to be so compelling like that? Ugh, blast.
“It is time I claim ye as duty demands, Rose.” Her husband turned around, and a rising well of panic crawled up her stomach. “We are nay longer in the inn, but home. The proper place.”
Despite the fact that the man was so enigmatic at all times, Rose felt so off. This was strange and not at all how she imagined it. He’d called her by her given name, and yet, she found herself missing the way it sounded when the word “lass” escaped his lips.
Rose’s chest ached from the strain her heart was putting on her, and then Dominik turned toward her, backlit by the small flames. He crossed the room, meeting her at the door once more, but this time, he stood inside the room, towering over her like a giant.
“It is the way of it, Rose.”
She was at a loss, unsure of what to say, so the worst thing imaginable was able to sneak out of her mouth.
“I had not thought you would come to my room at all. Certainly not now.” She shook herself, her gaze squeezing shut as she ducked her head toward the floor. “It’s only that…”
Rose was fumbling, frantically searching for the right words as the man in front of her, so strong and undeniably powerful, leaned over her, invading her space. She was flush against the door as Dominik’s hands found the wall on either side of her, boxing her in.
They were so close, so very, very close.
“…after what was said at dinner…”
Why was she still talking? Rose’s logical mind had clearly vacated the premises, and she shook herself, clenching her jaw. This was not the place she wanted to be. This was not the situation she wanted to find herself in.
Though as Dominik leaned closer, Rose caught the scent of his skin. Exertion clung to him, but there was leather and moss as well. Something warm mingled within those complex aromas, a spicy fragrance that made her think of hot autumn mulls and ciders.
“And why should I nae visit ye after dinner, Rose?” Dominik lowered his face toward her, his nose brushing her cheek as one hand dragged down the door.
“It…it is only that we were rather cross with each other. I should have thought that you—”
“And does that affect our duty?”
Rose had no response to that. She had no response to anything the man did except to breathe increasingly hard and shallow. She could sense the blush flooding her cheeks, the undeniable pink that would soon consume her face and neck.
What was happening between them? She heard Dominik’s words, but his actions felt so different, unlike what he was saying.
The sound of his hand on the door pulled her out of her thoughts, and Rose tracked the noise as he lowered it, finding her waist. His fingers dug into her sides, so hot above the thin shift that separated them.
Oh god, I am only in my shift.
The realization struck her. A tiny bit of fabric separated her from Dominik’s bare touch, and her body continued to heat, a steady warmth growing like a kettle on the stove. Instinctively, she pressed her thighs together, feeling something stir within her that she could not name.
In truth, Rose had never been aroused. The notion was not entirely alien, but it had never struck her. She had seen a handsome man before, but there had been no longing to do any of the things she knew couples raved about.
What apparently a great many people were willing to pay, live, and die for.
“I suppose it does not, my laird.”
“Daenae call me Laird, lass. It is Dominik.”
Her breath caught as her husband flicked his stare to her lips.
This was the moment Rose should have said something, told him that she would not be doing her duty when he had made her feel so much like an outsider at dinner.
But nothing came out. She could not find the words, though she searched for them.
All that she could focus on was the striking green of Dominik’s eyes, the way they bore into her very being. All Rose could feel was the warm, firm pressure of his fingertips along her side, the internal call to move toward him that she did not understand.
“Dominik.” The word escaped her, and Rose watched his eyes flare, an unreadable expression filling his features as her husband held her there against the door.
“When ye say me name like that, lass...” A groan left him, and Rose was shaken to her core. Was he intent on claiming her not solely for duty’s sake?
“Like what?” she pressed, needing understanding, clarity, more.
“With the breath escaping yer lungs.” Dominik’s other hand came to Rose’s neck, cradling her face with his thumb on her jaw. “With the sound of want ringing through it clear as day.”
Rose was sure that she would burst into flames and disappear into ash.
The embarrassment fueled through her like oil to the fire, and she could not deny him.
She could not tell Dominik that he was mistaken, that she thought nothing about the way it would feel for him to claim her right there against the door.
But she could not deny the nerves either.
“I…”
Dominik pulled Rose closer, sinking his hips forward so that they collided with her.
What she felt there was unmistakable, if new to her.
A tiny gasp broke free, and her husband used it to brush the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip.
The feeling of him against her was unlike anything else, wild and provocative and demanding.
“You made a joke at my expense at dinner.” What was her mouth doing to her tonight? She could not stop the words, as if this spell Dominik had cast over her pulled everything out. “I did not like it.”
“And I assure ye yet again, lass, that ye are mistaken.” She flicked her stare to him, seeing that devilish light in the green pools, the smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. “I was attempting to be considerate. I shall nae make the mistake again.”
Rose glared, but it was playful, the energy light. They were bickering again, but now it felt as if they were two friends, jesting with each other as they always did. What was that?
“If that is how you show your consideration for my well-being…” Rose could not keep the smile from her lips, welcoming the intense presence of her spouse all the more. “I have notes that might improve the outcome.”
Dominik laughed. He actually laughed, and the sound was reminiscent of bells in the summertime.
“Oh, do ye, lass. Och, well, I should hear them then, but perhaps…” He sank lower, his lips now brushing over her own, and Rose’s mind scrambled like an egg. “…Nae just now.”
He kissed her.
The Laird, her new husband and leader of this castle and clan, kissed her.
The smooth skin of his lips pressed to hers, and Rose fell apart under them.
She was amazed at the profound nature of Dominik’s kiss, the searing heat that licked through her entire body.
It was as if with that simple gesture, his soul had claimed hold of hers.
Oh god. Is this…but what about…What if…
It was so incredible, the best she’d ever felt in her life, and still, Rose was terrified, which made no sense at all. She pulled back from Dominik, ducking under his arm and getting to the other side of the room as if she were fleeing fire.
When Dominik turned to face her, Rose could not hide the panic, knowing that he realized he’d caused it as his stare flared before his brows pinched together over his eyes. He studied her, sensing the abrupt shift in her behavior.
“Rose, what is—”
“I cannot. I…I am sorry, but I simply cannot do this. I am not ready.”
Confusion played over Dominik’s face, and he stepped backward, his expression so grim now that a horrible guilt filled Rose’s chest. He shook his head, and Rose could see the confusion muddying the gleam in Dominik’s eyes that had just been there.
“I daenae understand what just happened, but I am nae a monster, lass. I willnae force ye like some brute.”
Rose relaxed somewhat at that, but the worry and regret still warred within her. She knew this was their duty. God, she knew that a large part of her wanted to—desperately. But she was overcome by fear, not knowing what lay ahead or how her husband would treat her afterward.
Uncertainty would be her undoing. If only she could have better prepared herself.
“But we cannot shirk our duty forever.”
The air left her lungs. “I…I understand. I do. It is only that…I am sorry. I only wish I had more opportunity to prepare.”
Dominik cocked a brow. “Time to prepare? As in ye might like to know when it will take place?”
“It sounds so strange to say it out loud, but…” Rose ducked her eyes before finding the strength to look up at her husband again. “…yes.”
The Laird leveled her with a stare, something solidifying in his mind, and he nodded at her once.
“There is nay need to apologize. Still, there is little choice in this matter. A week?”
Rose couldn’t hide the way her eyes widened. “I suppose that—”
“A month then, aye?”
She was quick to nod, grateful that the man was giving her any time at all.
“Verra well. Ye will have a month to ready yerself for what needs to be done. I am sure that will be quite enough.” Dominik straightened his shoulders, reaching for the door behind him as he upheld his air of command. “Then, ye will be mine in truth and deed.”
She could find no words to reply, trembling where she stood and uncertain whether it was solely fear that caused her to shake, or if, undoubtedly, that want was still clinging to her.
“Good evening, Rose. I will see ye in the morn.”
Dominik said nothing more, turning and leaving through the door to her bed chambers. Rose stood alone in the center of the room, unable to move for some time. When at last she could, she flung herself onto the bed, screaming into the plush cushion so that it would muffle the sound.
A month to prepare herself for her husband. A month to convince herself of her duty or…admit the calling inside her that still thrummed through her veins.
A single month.