Authors: Susan Sizemore
“She said no,” Rosemary repeated, and it wasn’t a question.
Then it all came back to him. He’d been acting like a mad stag in rut and now he was on the floor outside his bedroom.
“Aye,” he agreed as he rubbed the rising lump on his head. “She said no. Why is it,” Rowan wondered as his cousin stepped back to give him room to don his clothes,
“that the woman can’t make up her mind whether she wants me or not?”
“Well, that’s easy enough to answer.”
Maybe for a woman it was, it was a puzzlement to him. He glowered at Rosemary.
“All I want’s a woman who’ll spread her legs when I need it and leave me in peace when I don’t.”
Rosemary cuffed him on the shoulder. “Mind your tongue, Rowan Murray. And stop expecting so little from life while you’re at it.”
He didn’t know whether to rub the spot where his cousin had struck him or the throbbing knot on his head from his wife. “You’re a pack of violent harpies.”
She smiled benignly. “So we are. It’s good to see Lady Maddie has the spirit of a Murray woman even if she was born to the McCulloghs.” Rosemary patted the spot where she’d struck him. “She’s a good lass. Talks too much but kindly. And she keeps herself busy about the holding. She’s a doer and a fixer even if she hasn’t any household skills. I like her, Rowan.”
Rowan didn’t know whether he liked his wife or not. He knew he liked the sight, touch and taste and feel of her. He barely knew her name, only had guesswork as to how she’d ended up on the road back from the White Lady’s. She certainly hadn’t been waiting for him through any choice of her own.
“You and she are still strangers,” Rosemary interpreted his thoughts. “I wouldn’t want to be under any stranger the first time I made love to a man.”
“She’s my wife.”
75
Susan Sizemore
“Aye. So?”
“I’m her husband.”
“You’ve said the same thing two ways, lad, but I still don’t take your meaning.”
“She agreed to be my lover,” he said, “for a year and a day.” He touched his aching head. “She’s trying to renounce the bargain. I’ll not have it.” For the sake of his pride as well as the welfare of his people, he couldn’t let the woman lock him out of his own room. He would not be laughed at by kith, kin and countryside if the tale got out that his woman wouldn’t have him.
Rosemary hit him again.
“What?”
“That’s pride I see glowering out of your eyes, lad, and I won’t have it.”
“You won’t—”
“You listen to me, Rowan Murray.” She wagged a finger under his nose. “The White Lady sent her to you, did she not? For the sake of all the clan?” He nodded. She gave him a smug smile. “Then you’re fated to be lovers.”
He was on one side of a closed door, his erstwhile wife on the other. He had a headache. “She’s here to help the clan. Love is not necessary for marriage.”
“Oh don’t be ridiculous. You sound like some Sassenach noble who makes a marriage for sake of dowry and breeding stock.”
“It could be that the Sassenach have the right of it.”
“You’re just soured on the subject because you’re still jealous of the fairy wife.”
“Jealous? I was never jealous. I never wanted her—”
“Of course you didn’t. You wanted your father’s attention. You were a growing lad then. You deserved more of him than you got after he brought the lady of the fair folk home while you were still grieving for your mother.”
Though Rowan’s heart tightened with pain at her words, he answered, “The clan deserved more attention, not me.”
“He made you grow up too soon and I fault the man for that. But he knew how to love, he was happy.”
“Too happy.”
She shook her head. “Lost himself perhaps, irresponsible, I’ll grant, but it’s not possible to be too happy.”
“And none of this has anything to do with my own marriage.”
Rosemary took him by the upper arm and gave him a good shake. “Think of your wife, lad, and not the good she’s supposed to bring to the clan. If you’re so dead set on doing your duty, do it to her.”
He gestured toward the door. “I just tried.”
“It’s not just sex that makes a marriage, you fool.”
76
A Kind of Magic
He was not a fool. Sometimes he thought he was the only member of the clan who wasn’t. He also knew that despite her dabbling in things best left to the likes of the White Lady, Rosemary was no fool either.
She was so earnestly well-intentioned that he couldn’t even be angry with her for long. He ducked his head and ended up smiling at her. “Don’t be so harsh with me, Rosemary. Just tell me what you mean.” The hour was late and he was more tired than he’d thought. He stifled a yawn.
Rosemary brushed her hand across his cheek. “Be gentle with the girl. Get to know her. Court her.”
He sneered. “Och!”
“You heard me.”
“It was what I was afraid you were going to say.”
She put a hand on her hip. “You know I’m right.”
“I know no such thing.”
“Bring her flowers. Hold her hand. Ask her how she feels. Find out what she dreams of. Be there for her when she shows she’s afraid of the world she’s a stranger in.
Make her feel welcome and wanted and needed.”
Rowan shook his head impatiently. “You talk like a woman.”
“I am a woman. I know what women need. Aidan told me he told you the same thing while you were riding after the raiders.”
“Aidan thinks like one of the fair folk.”
“He knows what women want. And has had far more success with tumbling pretty girls than you’ve ever had.”
“I’ve no time for courtship.”
“You have a year and a day—less the time since the wedding. Court her.” She pointed toward the door. “Go on,” Rosemary commanded then disappeared back down the stairs to the hall, taking the light with her.
Rowan was left in the shadows, to look at the door, a fierce frown on his face. He had every intention of going back into his own bedroom as Rosemary wanted but it wasn’t courtship that he had on his mind.
* * * * *
Maddie heard the voices outside the door, but even with her ear pressed to the thick wood, she couldn’t make out a word they said. It was Rowan and Rosemary, she thought, talking about her, she supposed. She fingered the necklace that refused to come off and worried about what Rowan planned.
Maybe she shouldn’t have hit him on the head.
77
Susan Sizemore
She hadn’t exactly been thinking straight at the time. She hadn’t been thinking straight since before she got on the airplane in Stornoway, meeting Rowan Murray had only made things worse.
She leaned her head against the door as unwanted memories stirred of the way he’d felt, of the way he’d made her feel before the panic set in. Maybe if she’d met him in another place, another time—
She had, she reminded herself. There was a man just like Rowan Murray waiting in her own time. The right man for her. “Accept no substitutes,” she told herself.
For some reason she’d lost track of her need to return home in the last couple of days. Having just rolled around on the bed for a while with her so-called husband, Maddie was achingly aware that she had better get her mind back on her original objective.
She glanced back at the bed. “I don’t intend to repeat the experience any time soon,” she vowed, though she wondered how she was going to continue to stop Rowan if having sex with her was really what he wanted. He was stronger than she was after all, and legally within his rights as he’d pointed out before she’d conked him on the head. She had agreed to their marital arrangement, even though it was under duress.
Besides, parts of the rolling around on the bed scenario hadn’t been that unpleasant. It would have helped if he hadn’t come on quite so strong, so fast.
“A girl needs a little foreplay,” she muttered. “It says so in all those women’s magazines Mama’s sent me over the years.”
While she talked to herself, she stepped back from the door, but not fast enough to avoid getting hit in the forehead as it was forcefully opened.
“Ow!” she shouted as she went down. She glared up at Rowan from the floor. “You did that on purpose!”
“I wish I had.”
Rowan regretted the words immediately. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he reached down and hauled Maddie to her feet.
She rubbed her forehead. “I’m fine.”
He leaned close, keeping hold of her wrist to stop her from backing away. “You’ll have a headache.”
“I suppose so.” She wouldn’t look him in the eye but after a moment she cleared her throat. “How’s your head?”
“It’ll do.” The throbbing pain had settled down somewhat.
“I’m—I’m sorry I hit you.”
Now here was a new twist. He’d never yet met a Murray woman who apologized for an act of violence. His anger faded at Maddie’s words and Rosemary’s lecture reverberated in his head. In some ways his cousin had the right of it, though he hated to admit it. There was wisdom in getting to know the woman, as long as he didn’t let himself get too attached in the process.
78
A Kind of Magic
He released his hold on Maddie. It was his turn to clear his throat, turn his head and mumble, “Sorry I frightened you.”
She quickly retreated across the room, sat on the bed then jumped off of it as though it had burned her. “Uh—”
“Go to sleep,” Rowan told her. “I intend to.” He made sure the door was securely closed behind him then rolled himself in his plaid and settled down in front of it with his back to his wide, warm bed and the woman he should be sharing it with. She wasn’t going anywhere tonight and neither was he. Everyone but Rosemary would assume they’d passed the night in love play and would wish them well in the morning. He’d rather face the lie than rowdy laughter at both their expense.
Tomorrow, when neither of them suffered from an aching head, he’d see what he could do about setting this foolish muddle that was supposed to be a marriage to rights.
79
Susan Sizemore
Maddie didn’t mind that Rowan snored. It wasn’t one of those window-rattling, thunderous sorts of snores. It was a rather comforting sound really, a domestic touch that came out of the darkness occasionally during the long, sleepless night.
She hadn’t been able to sleep because he’d apologized, not because she was afraid he was going to jump up and ravish her. In part it bothered her—ludicrously, she knew—that given the choice between a difficult ravishment and a good night’s rest, he’d chosen to go to sleep. It bothered her that she wasn’t the sort of woman who inspired uncontrollable lust. Then of course she already knew that and she should have been glad of it. She didn’t really want Rowan to jump her bones—she just sort of wished he’d put a little more effort into it. Which was a very foolish attitude to entertain, even if only in brief, intermittent, sleep-deprived spurts. Her mixed emotions both annoyed and confused her. It didn’t help that he’d apologized.
It was hard to hate someone who apologized. She’d had to spend a lot of those sleepless hours reminding herself that abusive males frequently apologized for their behavior. Then she spent even more time wondering if she’d been abused. Okay, she’d said no and he hadn’t wanted to take that for an answer, but was that abusive behavior under the medieval circumstances? And he hadn’t apologized for the assault but for frightening her.
So she rolled around on the straw-filled mattress a lot and didn’t doze off until near dawn. It did not help her mood when Rowan shook her shoulder just as she was getting comfortable.
“Time to fetch me my porridge, woman,” he announced, sounding far too alert and cheerful for Maddie, who was not a morning person even in the best of circumstances.
Rowan had dreamed about Maddie and the things they hadn’t done all through the night. It wasn’t the first time he’d had such a dream, but last night was the first time when he’d been in the same room with her. He’d woken up a few times, considered joining her in the bed and turning dream into reality. Each time the slight pain in his scalp and Rosemary’s warning voice in his memory kept him from giving in to the impulse.
Now an ache in his belly and the call of the day’s duties kept him from greeting her with a kiss and a quick tumble. “Well?” he demanded as she regarded him out of barely open eyes.
“Well, what?”
“Are you wife enough to at least see to my meal?”
80
A Kind of Magic
Maddie sat up and scrubbed her hands over her face. “You,” she told Rowan Murray, “are a churlish, surly lout. And those are your better qualities.”
She sounded so miserable that he couldn’t take offense. “Didn’t sleep, did you?” He couldn’t stop the slight smile. “Thinking of me, lass?”
He was surprised at his words. He was not a man with a talent for teasing, not like Aidan. Rowan didn’t approve of his brother’s teasing ways. He was a serious man with serious concerns and no gift for banter. The urge to tease Maddie was a sudden and strange thing. He even suspected that he’d done it before, at the wedding feast, and hadn’t even noticed at the time. He didn’t know what to do about this inexplicable reaction to the woman, other than turn from her curious look and walk away.
Maddie scratched her head as Rowan left the room. Had that actually been a smile or something very close to one? She must be dreaming, hallucinating. The man couldn’t be capable of smiling. “It was a trick of the light,” she decided, and since she was too tired to deal with the medieval world right now, she pulled the covers back over her head and went to sleep.
* * * * *
It was only the dread of cold haggis for breakfast that woke her a few minutes later.
Rosemary had served her leftovers of the stuff one morning when she’d come down to the hall late. Dealing with a concoction that involved oatmeal and a sheep’s stomach was difficult enough when it was fresh and warm. Maddie gulped back nausea at the memory as she hurried to get dressed. She had something much more appetizing in mind.
Rowan was seated at the main table with his mouth full of porridge when Maddie came down the stairs. For a moment a faint hope flared in him that she’d join him.