To Vex a Highlander: The Sutherlands of Dornoch Castle ~ Book 4 Read online

  Christine stepped back and smoothed out her skirts. “That is my list of things that can ‘settle’ us before we marry.”

  Malcolm was speechless. The lass was no’ only irresponsible, careless, and flighty, but she had no idea how marriage worked, or her place as a wife and him as a husband.

  “Dinna yer sister or sister-by-marriage advise ye on what is expected of a wife?”

  “My sister, Lady Hilda MacDonald and I discussed marriage, but I can tell ye ‘twas not about how to bow and scrape before a husband or to deal with a list of things a wife may and mayno’ do. And as far as Lady Ross’s unwanted and unsolicited advice has been, I havena’ listened to a word the woman said since the day she married Louis.”

  “I prefer things done the right way.”

  She poked him in the chest again. “Ye mean yer way.”

  “Precisely.”

  She growled and turned to walk away.

  “Wait, lass.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Mayhaps I was a bit too strong.”

  “Do ye think so?” Her foot began to tap.

  “What is it ye object to, then? Mayhaps we can compromise. On some things.” He dinna like the idea of changing his mind on anything since that was how he wanted his life to go. And how he wanted his marriage to go. He dinna want to be worrying every time he left for the lists that the lass was in some sort of trouble.

  She waved her arms around. “Everything. I object to having ye read a list off to me like I was a bairn. I’m surprised one of the maids ye hired isn’t also a governess. Or a gaoler.”

  One thing he had to admit was that being riled as she was, the lass was verra, verra desirable. Her cheeks were flushed, her panting brought his attention right to her breasts, and the deep blue of her angry eyes had his cock rising. He was certainly looking forward to his wedding night.

  But if he couldna get the lass to agree to behave herself, the marriage bed could turn into a wrestling match.

  Nay. He had enough experience to entice the lass. He wasna a great lover, but since he would never force a lass, especially his own wife, he had encouraged enough lasses into his bed to ken he could certainly seduce her.

  The two of them at odds from the start was not a good sign, so maybe putting all of that aside for now would be best. He offered her a slight smile. “I suggest we continue our walk with just pleasant conversation. I’d like to point out various things in the keep to ye. To make ye a bit more comfortable.”

  Although she dinna smile, her body relaxed, and she nodded. He felt the tension leave her arm as they strolled along, and he introduced her to Dorathia, the healer. The two women spent time together speaking of herbs and cures. Apparently with her sister off and married, the job of tending to the sick at Balnagown had fallen on Christine. When asked, she said Sophie seemed to be quite ignorant of herbal cures and the difference between good and bad plants.

  “Who will be taking care of the ill now that ye’ve gone?” Malcolm asked as they strolled away from Dorathia’s cottage in the outer bailey.

  “I spent the last few months training one of the maids who had an interest in gardens, herbs, and things of that nature.”

  He patted her hand. “I’m glad ye have the skills. Dorathia as ye must have noted is getting on in years. Her niece, Helen, has been training with her, but she has been focused more on midwifery.” He leaned close to her. “Ye may need her one day.”

  Her breathing picked up again. Whether from fear or desire, he had no idea. But he would soon find out.

  The rest of the day they’d spent apart, with Christine doing whatever it is brides did the day before their wedding. Ainslee, Sophie, and Maura were all involved in whatever it was that was keeping Christine busy.

  Since all his belongings had been sent to the new house, he dinna have much to do himself. Except wonder, given how things had started out, how this marriage was going to work out.

  * * *

  Christine had kenned from the time she’d been a young lass that the choice of her husband would not be hers. ‘Twas that way for all daughters of lairds. Marriage was for forming alliances and gaining property and other advantages.

  Today was her wedding day, and she was marrying a mon she clashed with both times she was in his company. That dinna bode well for a happy life. He appeared to be well-liked among his clan, and Ainslee hailed his good temperament and caring ways when the ladies all spent time together the night before.

  “The only thing I can do is assure ye I’ve ne’er seen Malcolm so rattled as he was with ye yesterday. He’s well-liked and the lasses have always found him to be charming.” As the women visited, Ainslee had held her youngest, Grace, on her disappearing lap, with her next birthing so close.

  Sophie, of course, had made it kenned that the lady of the manor should no’ be troubled with her own bairns, but should have maids to do that. Ainslee just smiled and continued to cuddle her daughter, gazing down at the bairn with a mam’s love.

  Da had decided to stay for about a sennight after the wedding to visit with The Sutherland and work out a few things. Upon hearing the news, Sophie gave her usual huff and turned her exasperated look at her husband.

  Christine and Louis had ne’er been close since there was almost ten years between them, but she thought him to be a nice mon, who had, unfortunately been married off to a woman who Christine kenned would ne’er make him happy.

  She pushed all of that behind her as she took a deep breath and left her bedchamber, with Ainslee, Maura, and Sophie fussing behind her as she made her way to the kirk for her wedding.

  God’s bones, she hoped she wasna walking into a battlefield.

  3

  “I, take thee to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, for fairer or fouler, in sickness, and in health, to love and to cherish, till death we depart, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereunto I plight thee my troth.”

  Christine stared up at her husband. Christ’s toes, what had she done?

  Not that she’d had a choice, but the mon annoyed her. Flustered her. Made her feel things she dinna understand. One minute she wanted to hit him over the head with something heavy, and then he would look at her a certain way and she grew itchy, as if her clothes were too tight, and she had the absurd desire to kiss him.

  Well, ‘twas done now.

  Holding both of her hands, Malcolm dipped his head and kissed her gently on the lips. Her eyes flew open at the strange feeling that had caused. He drew back quickly and eyed her in a way that mirrored how she’d felt.

  Bothersome mon.

  They turned toward the group surrounding them in front of the kirk. Everyone was smiling like ‘twas a wonderful day and a wonderful event. She took a deep sigh and turned to Malcolm. “Mayhaps we should sign the bridal registry, then proceed to the keep for our wedding feast.”

  “Aye.”

  That was the best the mon could do? One word? Pfft. ‘Twas certainly better than him spewing out orders to her.

  Since the day was sunny, they’d decided to walk the short distance from the castle to the kirk. However, the air was chilly, and she shivered and drew her jacket closer.

  “Are ye cold, lass?” Malcolm asked.

  “Aye. My jacket is warm enough until the wind blows.”

  To her surprise he pulled her closer and placed his arm around her shoulders. The warmth from his big body took away any chill she’d been feeling. She looked up at him. “Thank ye.”

  He smiled. She stumbled at the wonder of how that one thing changed Malcolm from a handsome mon to a verra, verra handsome mon. Her flesh grew so warm, she was tempted to push him away, no longer feeling a chill.

  The great hall had been decorated with winter greens and pinecones, filling the air with a lovely scent. After greeting the guests and smiling until her face ached, Malcolm led her to the dais where Haydon, Ainslee, Conall, and Maura sat.

  Once they settled, the serving maids entered
from the kitchen carrying platters of food. Several others poured ale and wine.

  “’Twas a lovely ceremony,” Maura said who sat to her left.

  “Aye.” Goodness she was becoming as bad as Malcolm with her one word answers. But what else was to be said? All wedding ceremonies—at least the ones she’d attended—were lovely. Unless the bride was wont to cast up her accounts.

  Not too far into the meal, the tributes to a happy marriage, many bairns, and a long life began, each accompanied by downing a cup of ale or wine. After the first two, Christine merely held up her cup and placed it near her lips. If she continued to drink every time a mon stood to salute them, she would be a drunken fool before long.

  After are ye cold lass, her husband had not spoken a word to her. She couldna stand it much longer. She leaned toward his ear in between congratulatory drinks. “I have done something to vex ye, Malcolm?”

  He raised his brows. “Nay. Why would ye think so?”

  “Well, ye haven’t exactly been verra chatty. In fact, ye’ve spoken more to our guests than ye have to me.”

  He nodded, and again smiled.

  Ach. That smile did something strange to her insides.

  “My apologies, Christine. ‘Tis a bit overwhelming, is it no’?”

  “Aye. I dinna expect so many guests. It seems yer laird invited everyone in the village.”

  Ainslee leaned past Malcolm, sitting on his other side. “Aye, yer new husband is a verra popular mon. ‘Twas hard to leave anyone out since Malcolm has helped so many o’er the years.”

  Before she had the chance to consider that, the three musicians next to the dais began a lively tune. ‘Twas so loud, any conversation she’d hoped to have with her husband vanished. Couples and those without partners all gathered on the floor and began stomping their feet and singing along.

  “Do ye like to dance?” Malcolm asked.

  “Aye. I do. Do ye care for it?”

  He stood and held out his hand. “I enjoy a dance or two. Especially with my pretty wife.”

  She nearly swallowed her tongue with that remark. It seemed at every turn her husband surprised her.

  Their hands clasped, he led her to the center of the floor where they found a small space to dance. For such a braw mon, he was light on his feet. His large strong hands were gentle when he grasped her and turned them.

  It occurred to her that she had a lot to learn about her husband. All she’d kenned so far was his demanding ways. ‘Twould be nice to learn that there was more to the mon than a list of orders.

  He placed both his hands on her waist and lifted her into the air, swinging her around, laughing. Her hands resting on his shoulders, she returned the laugh, suddenly feeling happier than she’d been since her arrival at Dornoch.

  “Ach. I like seeing ye smile, lass,” Malcolm said as he set her back on her feet. The music ended and together they returned to the dais.

  “I think I could use a breath of fresh air, husband. Would ye care to escort me outside?”

  “Indeed.” He entwined their fingers together, and they wove their way through the crowd, stopping on occasion to accept greetings and well wishes. A great deal of slapping Malcolm on the back and offering advice for his wedding night halted their progress as well.

  The only way she could keep the blush in her face from exploding was by singing a silly tune to herself that her sister had taught her.

  Finally, they made it to the door and stepped down the few steps to the inner bailey. The cool air now felt good against her skin. She turned to say something, and the thought immediately left her head.

  Malcolm stared at her; his features softer than she’d ever seen him. He raised his hand, and one finger drifted down her cheek. “Have I told ye how verra beautiful ye are?”

  * * *

  Malcolm could not stop staring at his wife. Christine was truly one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. When they’d met at the Highland Games, he noted she was pretty, but it wasn’t until today that he truly appreciated her loveliness.

  The lass must have been used to hearing such compliments because she dinna fuss or look embarrassed. She merely smiled and said, “Thank ye, husband.”

  That annoyed him. He dinna want to think about other men noticing her or commenting on her beauty. Of course, anyone who had done so would have complimented her before today, so mayhaps it dinna count.

  Nay. It still counted.

  Christine took a deep breath, bringing his eyes directly to her bosom. Her well-formed, quite-generous-for-her-size bosom. He reached out and cupped her chin. “I would like a proper kiss now that we have no audience.”

  She licked her lips and nodded. His large hand took her face and held it gently. After a moment’s hesitation, he bent and covered her mouth with his.

  Heaven. She smelled of flowers and wine, with a taste of lemon.

  Gathering her into his arms, he held her snugly against him, every curve she possessed pressed up against his hard body. He nudged her lips with his tongue, and she gasped, allowing him to enter. ‘Twas a good sign that she wasna shocked or upset. Driven by her acceptance, he smothered her lips with demanding mastery.

  Tentatively, she touched her tongue to his, and he was lost. There was an intimacy to their kiss he hadn’t expected from an untried maid. He released her lips and leaned back, looking down at her. Her eyes were glazed, an expression of wonder on her face. It dinna take much for him to make a decision.

  “I suggest we retire to our house,” he whispered, sliding his lips back and forth over hers.

  “Now?” The lass seemed to have a problem breathing.

  “Aye. Right now.”

  She pulled back, but he continued to hold her snugly with his fingers spread on her back. “But the celebration is still going on. Would that be ill-mannered?”

  He grinned. “Ah, mayhaps, but do ye ken what will happen if we return?”

  She frowned and thought for a moment, then took a deep breath. “Ach. I remember from my sister’s weddings. The bedding ceremony!”

  He tucked one of her loosened curls behind her tiny shell of an ear. “Aye. Haydon and Conall both escaped it because their wives were verra uncomfortable with the idea. I donna ken if I have the same influence over the revelers who will be waiting to drag me upstairs with ye already in bed.”

  She gripped his hand. Hard. “Aye. Let us return to our house.”

  It sounded strange and wonderful to hear her refer to it as ‘our house’.

  They headed to the stable, had their horses tacked and were gone before anyone discovered them missing. They rode side by side, the moonlight guiding the way. Christine tossed her head back and laughed at their escape. He watched her, the moon shining on her white throat. She looked like a goddess.

  And she’s mine.

  All was dark as they approached the house. He purposely dinna ask anyone to prepare for them because he wasn’t sure if he could talk his bride into leaving the castle for the night. In fact, he had no idea what to expect from Christine. So far, it seemed as though the lass was quite comfortable with what was coming.

  He quickly untacked both horses and then took her hand to lead her to the front door. With a smile, he scooped her into his arms.

  “What are ye doing?”

  “’Tis an old tradition that the groom carry his bride over the threshold of their home. ‘Twas done to protect the bride from evil spirits.” He stepped into the house, but dinna put her down. “The tradition says ‘tis necessary so that the groom can offer his beautiful new wife a life of safety and happiness.”

  “Is that all it takes to ensure happiness, then?” she asked with a smirk.

  He lowered her to the floor and rested his hands on her shoulders. “’Twould be wonderful if that were so. However, I believe it takes more than that to make a happy marriage.”

  Christine placed a finger on his lips. “Please doona begin telling me what I need to do.”

  He shook his head. “Nay. Not tonight.
”

  She shivered and wrapped her arms around her middle.

  “Are ye cold? I can start a fire.”

  “Aye. That’s a good idea.” She wandered the room while he placed a peat brick in the fireplace and lit it.

  “Would ye like to see the rest of the house?” Rushing her right to bed ‘twas not the wisest of choices. He dinna believe his wife was a meek, reluctant bride, certainly no’ after the kiss they’d shared. But she was still a maiden and needed careful handling. He’d ne’er bedded a virgin before, but kenned he had to be careful and go slowly.

  * * *

  Christine turned from where she studied a tapestry on the wall. “Aye, I would like to see the rest of the house, since it will be my home.” While Malcolm made the fire, she’d been looking over everything in the room, which was most likely a withdrawing room. ‘Twas furnished, but certainly no’ finished to her liking.

  A comfortable room, but aside from the tapestry, a bit sparse. She would have to add some touches to make it seem more like a home. They could also use a bit more furniture. Sturdy pieces that wouldna collapse under her husband’s size.

  At that thought, her eyes drifted to his back as he squatted before the fire. Muscles rippled as he stoked the peat, then dusted his hands off and stood. Her eyes then made their way to his powerful legs. Since he’d worn the traditional Scottish wedding attire, the space between the bottom of his kilt and the top of his socks revealed a verra nice view.

  Once the fire was going to his liking, Malcolm took a candle, bent to light it from the fire and extended his hand. “A tour it shall be, wife. Although I must warn ye, even with the moonlight and my mere candle here, ye won’t have a great idea of yer home until the morn.”

  He led the way up the steps where they viewed six bedrooms. A few were partially furnished, but others empty. She’d learned that the house had been built o’er the past few months on land that had been given to Malcolm by his cousin. Something to pass down to their children. She kenned her da was happy with that part of the agreement since Malcolm had been a landowner by birth.