An English Bride In Scotland (5 page)

“Oh!” she gasped with surprise as her legs went out under her. She would have fallen had he released her when he set her on the ground, but Ross had expected this and held her up. After a moment, she smiled at him with chagrin. “My apologies, my lord. I fear I have never ridden this long before.”

“Have ye never traveled with yer parents to court or to visit others?” he asked with surprise.

Annabel shook her head, and then looked uncomfortable and lowered her head. “Nay. The longest journey I have taken was little more than a half day ride and that was in a carriage.”

“But ye have ridden before?” he asked, leaning a bit to the side in an effort to see her face.

“Of course,” she assured him, glancing up again. Annabel seemed to want to add something else, but then just smiled and asked, “Are we stopping for the night?”

“Aye.”

Annabel had stopped leaning into him and appeared to have recovered, so Ross released his hold on her. He remained ready to grab her again should the need arise, but it didn’t. She was able to stand alone now.

She had recovered quickly, Ross acknowledged and that along with her lack of complaining today impressed him. His bride was no weak English miss, he thought with satisfaction, and took her arm to guide her toward the edge of the clearing. “Ye probably wish to refresh yerself.”

“Aye,” she murmured and he glanced at her sharply. Her tone was uncertain, even anxious and he wasn’t sure what that was about, but let it go.

Ross led her to a spot a good distance away from the men and around a bend and then released her, saying he’d wait just the other side of the bend. The relief on her face explained her earlier anxiety. He suspected she’d wondered how to tell him she needed a moment alone to relieve herself. She was still shy around him, of course, and no doubt would be until they really did consummate the marriage.

Ross quickly pushed that thought out of his mind. It wasn’t smart to start thinking on touching and kissing her and sinking himself into her warm depths. That was a temptation he had already decided to avoid until they reached MacKay, but damned if just holding her upright beside her horse hadn’t stirred his manhood.

Shaking his head at his own body, Ross paused beside a bush, lifted his plaid, took hold of the still half erect member in question and released a little sigh as he watered the greenery. Sometimes, it just felt so damned good to empty the snake, he thought and then jerked around midstream and broke into a run at a sudden scream from Annabel.

He hadn’t moved far away, just enough to give her privacy, so it only took him a dozen steps to reach her side. When he did, he found her staring wide-eyed into the bushes opposite the direction he’d come from.

“What is it?” he asked at once, though his mind was half on wondering whether he hadn’t just pissed all over his plaid and when he’d get to finish what he’d started. Damn, she’d scared the life out of him and he’d dropped his plaid and whipped about so quick—

“There was someone in those bushes,” Annabel whispered, pointing a shaky finger.

Ross frowned when he saw that the greenery was still quivering. That was enough to drive the question of his lower member’s activities from his mind. Pulling his sword from the sheath at his waist, he strode forward at once, ordering, “Wait here.”

Ross followed the very obvious trail for a good twenty feet before pausing. He didn’t want to move any further while Annabel was left alone behind him. If whoever she’d seen circled around and went back to her she would be defenseless. That thought was enough to have him quickly returning the way he’d come.

Much to his relief, Annabel was still waiting where he’d left her. She looked unharmed but anxious, and he couldn’t help noting that for all she was stalwart about not complaining and so on, she did seem overly nervous a lot of the time. On the other hand, Ross supposed the possibility of having your maidenhood breached and someone coming up on you while you were relieving yourself were worthy of anxiety.

Taking her arm, he started to urge her back the way they’d come, but she dug her feet in.

“Oh, but I still have to—” She cut herself off and blushed.

“Aye. Ye will. I just want to fetch the men,” he assured her, trying to get her moving again.

“The men?” Annabel squawked with dismay, digging in her heels.

“Aye. We can stand around ye and be sure no one creeps up on ye again,” Ross explained. It seemed perfectly reasonable to him. But judging by the horror that covered her face at the suggestion, she didn’t agree.

“My lord, surely you do not expect me to . . . with men standing around me?” she asked as if he’d suggested she do it in the village square for all to see . . . and naked.

“Well, they won’t be able to see anything,” he assured her with amusement. Damned if he’d let his men look on her cute little derriere as she knelt in the bushes. “They’ll be on the other side of the bushes, but there to stop anyone else approaching.”

Annabel was shaking her head before he’d finished. “I cannot possibly—not while I know your men are all standing around listening to me . . . I just cannot,” she said helplessly.

“It’s pissen, lass,” he said helpfully since she seemed unable to voice the word herself. “It’s a pissen yer needing. Ye can say the word. I’ll no think less o’ ye fer it.”

Annabel opened her mouth, closed it, and then simply shook her head again.

Ross sighed. If she couldn’t even say the damned word, there was no way she was going to do it with guards standing but feet away. He glanced around, considering what to do, then nodded. “Right. Then come here.”

“Where are we—?” Her question died as he led her to a bush at the stream’s edge and paused.

“Ye do it here,” he said releasing her arm and moving three or four feet away to turn his back to her. “And I’ll stand guard here. That way yer front and back are safe and we can both keep an eye on the sides.”

Ross waited for either agreement or the rustle of her adjusting her clothes, but neither sounded. Resisting the urge to look back and see what she was doing, he asked, “Yer no’ doing it, are ye?”

“Umm . . . nay, not yet,” she muttered, then paused, cleared her throat, and asked, “Do you think you could whistle, my lord?”

“Whistle?” He did glance around then. She was standing where he’d left her, looking uncomfortable, but still upright, not down on her haunches with her skirt hiked up around her waist.

Annabel grimaced apologetically. “It would help if you did.”

Sighing, Ross shook his head, but turned away and began to whistle. He was wishing though, that she’d just hurry up and get it done. He still had some pissen of his own to do. So, he was more than a little relieved when she cleared her throat a moment later and murmured, “We can return to the clearing.”

Ross walked her back to where the men were setting up camp, had a word with Gilly and Marach, telling them both what had happened. He then ordered them to keep on eye on Annabel, and ordered the other men to search the area to be sure whoever had come up on his wife had left.

Ross suspected it had been another traveler, on foot, or camped nearby looking for their own spot to take care of private matters, but neither he nor any of his men came across anyone. He found the trail again that he’d been following earlier, but it continued only for another ten feet before disappearing at the water’s edge. There was no sign of a boat having come aground there. He doubted the stream was even deep enough for a boat, though, so either they’d crossed the stream, or they’d walked through it for a while before coming back out. That didn’t change his mind about it all being an accidental encounter though. They were in England. What Englishman wouldn’t use the stream to cover his trail when an angry Scot was after him, ready to trounce him for coming upon his wife like that?

Satisfied that all was well, Ross called off the search and left the men to hunt up dinner while he returned to the campsite and his bride.

Chapter 4

A
nnabel rolled onto her back and opened her eyes with a happy, sleepy little sigh, then blinked in surprise when she found herself staring at a ceiling overhead rather than open air. Sitting up abruptly, she peered around, eyes wide as she took in the room she was in. It was a large one with a table and chairs in the far right corner, two chairs and a small table before a fire directly across from her, and a stand for a washbasin between two windows to the left of her . . . and then of course there was the bed she was in, quite the largest bed she’d ever seen, and so soft and comfy. It felt like it was stuffed with feathers rather than straw. It was at least five times bigger than the hard, narrow cot she’d slept in for the last fourteen years at the abbey, and almost twice the size of the bed she and Ross had slept in at Waverly. It was also definitely more comfortable than that bed had been. Annabel was quite sure even the king couldn’t have a nicer bed when it came to comfort.

The problem was, she had no idea whose bed it was, or where she was. The last thing Annabel remembered was riding her mare on the third day of their interminable journey to her new home. They had stopped the first two days when the sun had begun to set, but on the third night they’d continued on well past sunset. Annabel had wondered about that, thinking perhaps they were near MacKay, but hadn’t asked and had simply continued forward.

Annabel supposed she’d fallen asleep in the saddle and was rather surprised she hadn’t toppled right off her horse. Really, that silly sidesaddle was an atrocious invention. People weren’t meant to ride with their legs to the side, she was sure, and while she’d never ridden astride on a saddle, she was positive it must be much more comfortable. Certainly, it had to be easier to direct the horse with a squeeze of legs instead of counting wholly on the reins.

The opening of the bedchamber door drew Annabel from her thoughts and she tensed and glanced to it, relaxing a bit when an older woman stuck her head in. The stranger then beamed when she saw Annabel upright in bed.

“Ah, good! Yer awake, ye are.” She opened the door wide then and bustled in, leading a parade of servants carrying various items.

Annabel drew the furs up to her chin and stared wide-eyed as a tub was carted in by two men and set in the large space remaining in the far left corner of the room. It was followed by four men, each carrying a bucket of water in each hand; some of those buckets were steaming, others were not. The men were followed by women carrying soaps, linens, and one a tray with food on it. The last to enter the room were two more men carrying a chest between them.

It was quite crowded in the room for a moment, but cleared out quickly as each person set down their burden and hurried out with a quick curious glance, a bobbing curtsy, or a smile in her direction. Annabel smiled anxiously back, nodding at each person as they passed until just the first woman who had entered was left.

“There we are!” she said cheerfully, closing the door behind the last departing servant. “We’re all set then I think.”

“Erm,” Annabel murmured, still clutching the furs to her chin. She wasn’t quite sure what they were set for. She wasn’t even sure where she was, though she was beginning to suspect she’d slept through their arrival at MacKay. Someone had obviously carried her up here to bed . . . and stripped her, she realized with dismay as she noted that she was completely and utterly naked under the linens and furs.

“Now ye just break yer fast while I prepare yer bath fer ye.” The words were accompanied by the tray of food being plunked on her lap in bed.

The tray held bread, cheese, two fluffy-looking pastries and some sort of beverage. Judging by the scent of the steam wafting from it, warmed cider. Annabel simply stared at the fare, the woman’s words winding through her thoughts:
“Now ye just break yer fast while I prepare yer bath fer ye.”

The bath was for her? And the food? Annabel was not used to being waited on. At the abbey, there had been one standard bath time for everyone at the abbess’s discretion. She announced it was bath day, a large tub was readied in the kitchens and the women took turns using it. As one of the younger residents of the abbey, Annabel had always been one of the last to bathe and the water had always been tepid and dirty by the time she got to it.

Annabel had suffered through it because she had to, but she had never felt clean afterward and had often slipped away to bathe in the stream as soon as she could. Actually, she had often slipped away to the stream between bath times too. Annabel had spent half her time at the abbey working with the animals in the stables and half her time illuminating texts. Her work with the texts was no problem, but working in the stables was a dirty job, and the abbess didn’t order baths as often as Annabel would have liked, so Annabel had regularly slipped away to the stream.

Unfortunately, the abbess had discovered her little trips and had not been pleased. To her mind, it was vanity that made Annabel want to be clean. The welts Annabel presently bore on her back were her punishment. The abbess never struck the women under her care, but she did make them do it themselves, and if you didn’t bring on marks, she threatened a worse punishment. There were many worse punishments at the abbey. The abbess could be very creative when it came to punishing those under her charge.

“Do ye no’ like pastries?”

Annabel glanced up from the tray to see that the older woman had paused in emptying a bucket into the tub to eye her with concern.

“Oh, aye,” she said quickly, picking up one of the flaky pastries. Annabel had no idea if she liked pastries. She’d never had one before. The cook at the abbey wasn’t a very good one. The best she could manage was stews or other easy and plain fare. Not that the abbess would have encouraged cook to make such things anyway. She did have issues around gluttony and the women daring to enjoy their food. Annabel personally felt there was something a bit unnatural about the abbess’s obsession with the matter, but had just accepted it as a part of her life.

Now, she took a tentative bite and then simply held it in her mouth, her eyes slowly growing wide. She had never in her life tasted anything as lovely as that flaky pastry with the burst of sweet fruit in the center. While the cook at Waverly may have presented something as good at her wedding feast, Annabel had been too nervous to eat and had simply sat sipping at the honeyed mead that had been placed before her. But this . . . this was nirvana.

A clanging sound drew her gaze to the maid dumping water into the tub, and Annabel popped the rest of the pastry into her mouth, and chewed on it as she looked around for her gown. She spotted it lying across the foot of the bed. Swallowing the pastry, she set the tray aside and leaned forward to grab the gown. Annabel quickly tugged it on over her head and then crawled out of bed, letting the gown drop down past her waist as she hurried over to help with the water.

“What are ye doing lass?” the old woman asked with amazement when Annabel picked up a bucket and dumped it in.

“Helping?” Annabel said uncertainly, a little set aback by the woman’s shocked expression.

“Helping?” the woman said slowly, and then shook her head. “Well, stop it and get yerself back to the bed to finish breaking yer fast. This is me job, no’ yers.”

“Oh.” Annabel flushed with embarrassment and set the bucket back down. She then scampered back to the bed and sat down to pull the tray closer. She had gobbled down the first pastry to rush over and help with the bath, but took her time and savored the second one. It really was delicious, and she couldn’t help thinking it might be a good thing that the abbey cook hadn’t made things as lovely as this. Her back would have been crisscrossed with welts and scars for gluttony.

Despite taking her time, Annabel finished the pastry before the old woman had finished filling the tub, so she picked briefly at the cheese and bread. But she was no longer hungry, so set it aside after a couple of bites and simply sipped at the warm apple cider as she waited.

“There we are.”

That satisfied comment from the older woman drew Annabel’s attention to the fact that she was finished filling the bath and was now eyeing Annabel.

Setting the cider back on the tray, Annabel pushed herself up from the bed and hurried over to the tub.

“The laird said he didn’t arrange to bring yer lady’s maid, so ye’ll have to pick one from the women here. In the meantime, ye’ll have to make do with me,” the woman announced, reaching out to help her take off the dress.

Annabel was not used to the assistance of a lady’s maid. That simply didn’t happen at the abbey. At least it hadn’t happened for her and as far as she knew the other women didn’t have maids to dress or undress them. Well, except for the abbess. Perhaps that was why having this nice older lady trying to undress her left Annabel feeling terribly uncomfortable.

Biting back the protest that she wasn’t a child and could manage herself, Annabel suffered her help, but it was a relief when the dress was off and she could hop into the water. However, once there, the woman didn’t let her be, but picked up a scrap of linen and soap. Rather than hand it to her, as Annabel expected, she dipped the cloth in the water, applied some soap and began to work it into a lather. Even then she didn’t hand it over to Annabel, but swept her hair to the side over her shoulder so that it was out of the way and began to wash her back.

Annabel sat completely still for several minutes, and then cleared her throat and asked, “What is your name?”

“Oh,” the maid chuckled softly, her back scrubbing stopping briefly as she then said, “I am sorry, me lady. I did no’ even think to tell ye, did I? I’m Seonag.”

“Seonag,” Annabel murmured, pronouncing it
Shaw-nack
, as she had. She then twisted in the tub to peer at her and offer a smile. “ ’Tis a pleasure to meet you, Seonag.”

“Oh.” The woman looked surprised, and then smiled back widely. “Well, I’m sure ’tis a pleasure to meet ye too, me lady.”

Nodding, Annabel turned forward again. Seonag immediately began to scrub her back again and after a moment, Annabel asked, “This is MacKay, then?”

Seonag stopped scrubbing briefly, and then straightened and moved to stand at the side of the tub where she could see her face. Her mouth was wide open when she first got there, but she snapped it closed and then said with exasperation, “And well surely ye do no’ ken, do ye? Ye were sleeping when the laird carried ye in. Goodness, ye must ha’e been sitting there wondering who the devil we all were when we came barging in.” She shook her head and then said, “Aye, m’lady. This is MacKay.”

Annabel nodded. She’d assumed as much, but it was good to be sure. “And where is my . . . husband?” It felt odd calling Ross that. Annabel supposed it was because it was all so new.

“Oh, he’s off talking with Liam,” she said as if that was to be expected. Annabel had no idea who Liam was and supposed her expression was blank at this news, because Seonag explained, “Liam is his second. He’ll be filling the laird in on what happened while he was away.”

“Oh, aye, of course.” Annabel nodded.

Smiling, Seonag shifted behind the tub again, but this time to rinse away the soap she’d applied. As she finished, she said, “I’ll wash yer hair now and then leave ye to finish while I sort through the gowns. There must be one or two we can make do with until the merchant comes around with cloth we can buy to make ye a wardrobe.”

“Gowns?” Annabel asked with interest, glancing around. Her gaze landed on the chest that had been carried in last.

“Aye. The laird said as how he didn’t even give ye time to pack a chest to bring with ye and ye’d need new gowns so I had the boys bring in Lady Magaidh’s chest.”

Annabel bit her lip, but was saved from having to comment when Seonag had her lean back so that she could dampen her hair. She was very aware, though, that there had been nothing to pack. The gown she’d worn to Waverly had been burned. She wasn’t even sure whose gown she’d worn to be married in. In all the panic of the situation, she hadn’t thought to ask. She assumed, though, that it had been the wedding gown made for Kate to wear to marry Ross. It certainly hadn’t been made for her. Her mother’s servants had needed to add panels to the sides to make it large enough to fit her and had worked feverishly to get that done while Annabel had been bathed and prepared. Fortunately, Kate was apparently taller as well as thinner, and the three inches that had been cut from the hem of the skirt so that she didn’t tread on it had been long enough to make two panels, one for each side.

“Who is Lady Magaidh?” Annabel asked curiously as Seonag soaped her hair.

“The laird’s mother,” Seonag answered, and explained, “She passed five years ago, so the gowns aren’t new, but surely there will be something that will do.”

Annabel nodded silently.

“The two o’ ye are of a size too, so there shouldn’t be much need for alterations except to modernize them a bit,” Seonag added cheerfully. “And that is grand.”

“Aye,” Annabel agreed as Seonag began to rinse the soap from her hair. But she couldn’t help thinking this was the first time anyone had thought her over-generous curves were a good thing. Her mother had made several disappointed comments as they’d prepared her for the wedding, obviously wishing she’d been tall and slender like her sister, Kate, had apparently grown to be. Certainly the abbess had done nothing but criticize her for the gluttony she felt Annabel’s size revealed.

“There ye go. All done,” Seonag said lightly, urging her to sit up in the tub again. “Ye finish up and I’ll go start sorting through the gowns.”

Annabel accepted the cloth she was offered and began to run the soapy swath of linen over her arms and chest, but her gaze was on Seonag as she bustled over to the chest and opened it to reveal a collection of colorful material. She watched her lift out the first gown, a deep red creation that she examined briefly before laying it across the foot of the bed. It was followed by a dark forest green gown before a burnished orange one with a large stain on it was dropped to the floor.