Chapter Nine #2
“Believe me when I say I would like nothing more than to spend the day sequestered alone in these chambers with you, making amends for my churlish behavior. I will count the minutes ’til I can next do this, and much more.
” He kissed me again, just a light brush of his lips against mine.
Reluctantly, he disengaged, dazzling me in that moment with his glowing appeal.
“But I cannot stay. I’ve ordered some of the men to assemble in the stables. We ride at daybreak.”
After one more particularly sweet, soft kiss, Kade left me, and I found myself surprisingly bereaved by his departure.
Something had changed. A bond had formed where I’d least expected it: between myself and my fierce warrior husband.
We had need of each other. We had already begun to rely on each other’s support amid our shared difficulties.
And there was more to it than that. A tenderness had crept into our exchanges: a new, intricate sensibility that drew us together.
I found this connection remarkably comforting and found that, increasingly, when we were apart, I craved more of him, his inspiring attention and his enriching company.
Dutifully, and with my husband’s wishes in mind, I finished dressing in preparation for my day ahead.
And as they had the previous two mornings, one or more of my sisters waited until my husband left, then came to my chamber door, impatient for news or some hint of scandal.
When none was to be found, they seemed bitterly disappointed.
It was almost as if they wanted me to be ravaged again and were irked when they found me in a semirespectable condition, with my shift unshredded and scarcely a hair out of place.
It was only Maisie this morning, carrying a tray with food and tea.
Maisie placed the tray on a table and poured some tea as she surveyed my husband’s scattered possessions with interest. She brought me a cup of tea and the plate of food.
Then she sat on the bed, helping herself to a rough hunk of bread and some hard cheese.
“Stella, I heard arguing this morning,” she commented.
“And yelling. What was your husband so angry about?”
“I told you already, Maisie,” I said, mildly annoyed that she’d bring this up yet again—and that she had likely been listening at the door of our chambers.
“I’m not to discuss any of that with you.
My husband wishes our private affairs to remain exactly that—private.
” I, too, took a piece of bread. After the fresh-baked and interesting array of breads that had been on offer at the Mackenzie keep, the stale loaf was particularly unappealing, and the cheese had green spots of mold that needed to be scraped with a knife edge.
I decided I wasn’t as hungry as I’d first thought.
Maisie interpreted my unwillingness to discuss our marital privacy as proof of my husband’s failings.
“I just knew he’d be a tyrant,” she said, almost triumphant that her initial assessments had been correct.
“Just give me a few tiny details. Do you enjoy any of it? Or is he as loutish and severe as he looks?”
“Maisie,” I said, mildly exasperated.
“Because when I was with Wilkie—did I tell you about this? There was this transcendent rush—”
“You did tell me, aye,” I interrupted. “All about it.”
“All I’m saying is that it can be...well, miraculous.
Maybe in time—I mean, if he even takes you into account at all.
Some men are like that, I’ve heard—interested only in self-gratification.
Kade’s so unlike his brother in other ways, it’s not surprising.
Although the more I see of him, the more I do see resemblances.
In his less severe moments, he does take on some of his brother’s...
magnificence. Not entirely, but there’s a hint of it, I’ve noticed.
But his personality is so different from Wilkie’s, it makes sense that he’d be different in the—”
“Maisie.” Something in my tone finally silenced her, very temporarily.
“Oh, all right,” she said, flouncing with indignation.
But then she leaned in close again. “But I know you well enough, Stella. And I’m almost entirely certain that you didn’t, otherwise you’d be gushing with it.
There’s no way any woman can experience that kind of...
satisfaction and not feel elated about it. ”
“It was...different from what I was expecting,” I said, attempting to quiet her with a reply, even if it was vague and perhaps misleading. But I spoke the truth. All of what had so far taken place behind closed doors between Kade and me had been different from what I’d been expecting.
“In what way?” she asked, her curiosity entirely piqued.
“In every way.”
She studied my eyes, then burst into laughter. “My dear sister, you couldn’t have. Simply couldn’t have. Oh, you poor thing. Let’s just hope he improves over time.”
Even if Kade had not asked me to keep our private affairs to ourselves, I had no desire to discuss my husband’s techniques in the bedchambers with my curious sister. And her false assumptions were beginning to rile me. “Maisie, you have no idea—”
I was mildly relieved when she interrupted me, and I decided to keep resolutely mum about the entire subject from that moment forward.
“There are ways you can make things more...interesting, of course,” she was saying.
“If you’re as timid in bed as you are in every other aspect of your life, ’tis no wonder. ”
“What things?” I couldn’t help asking.
“Well, a man likes it when a woman takes control. Don’t wait for him. Tease him. Use your body. Show yourself. Men simply cannot resist once they see you. Use your hands.” Her eyes glimmered. “And your mouth.”
I turned from her, and finished dressing. It all sounded utterly daunting, yet I was imagining all manner of lurid details. A flush of heat rose on my cheeks, which caused my younger but decidedly more worldly sister to smile.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going down to the kitchens.”
“Get some more food for me, too, would you? This bread is hardly edible.”
“I’m not returning ’til later. I’ve been told to oversee the kitchen staff. My husband wants the grand hall cleaned and fresh bread baked for the men—they’ve gone hunting.”
Maisie looked at me, slightly aghast. “Since when are you bold enough to oversee anything?”
“Since today.” I’ll admit the comment stung; it was a little too accurate.
My sister had always been blunt to a fault, a trait that was only compounding itself in the wake of her recent romantic disappointments.
I’d seen a similar affliction affect my older sister, who had become sullen and wistful.
Heartbreak, it seemed, had affected Maisie differently, provoking bitterness and sharp-tongued candor.
I’d always loved her despite her consistent lack of either boundaries or tact, but I hoped for her sake that she could rebound with some element of grace. “I’ve been given no choice.”
“Just hope Father doesn’t find out that you’re interfering. The bruises from your last transgression have only just faded.”
The thought caused a bolt of unease, but I thought of my husband’s vows, and hoped they were true.
If any man threatens to lay a hand on you ever again, he will be exceedingly sorry for it.
“Someone needs to interfere. Father might be grateful that someone’s taken an interest, once he sees that it can improve the look of the place.
’Tis ridiculous that we’re not allowed to help when it’s so obvious that something needs to be done to improve the standards of upkeep in the manor. ”
“Aye,” Maisie agreed disinterestedly.
“I’ll see you at dinner,” I said.
I made my way down to the grand hall, where there was no one to be found.
The single large tapestry looked dirty and dull.
The fireplace—long cold—had a pile of ashes that had scattered across the floor from some errant draft.
Days-old cups and plates still sat on the many tables, and I wondered why this big room wasn’t used for every evening meal, as it was at Kinloch, to unite the clan members over a meal and a drink, with the fire lit and the atmosphere festive and cozy.
My husband was right: the place was a shambles.
I thought of Ailie Mackenzie, who judiciously managed the staff of Kinloch. She was not a woman of particularly forceful character, yet the place ran like clockwork. I hoped, in time, I might be able to do the same and resolved to start today.
I collected a few of the dishes and carried them through the swinging doors to the kitchen, where some of the staff were busy.
Not cooking, however. They were sitting around one of the larger tables, eating from bowls of soup, talking loudly and laughing at a joke one of them had just finished telling.
As soon as they saw me, they fell entirely silent and stared at me with a mixture of surprise and contempt, as though I had just interrupted a private party I wasn’t invited to.
“Good morning,” I said, setting the dirty dishes down on a long, high table, where many other dirty dishes were piled.
“Good day, milady.”
I recognized all the women, but I didn’t know all their names. It was Isla who returned my greeting, the head of the kitchen staff. Isla was perhaps twice my age and had been in charge of the kitchens for as long as I could remember.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“My husband has requested that the hall be cleaned today, and that a meal be prepared for the returning hunting party, by sunset.”
Isla turned to her amused audience, raising her eyebrows. Then she contemplated me, my fine gown and the gold necklace I always wore. “Your husband?”