The Duke's Fiery Bride

by Hildie McQueen

  “Come, we must speak,” Gavin spoke into her ear as he guided her to a stairwell. They climbed up the stairs and, with each step, her heart pounded harder. She wanted to yank her arm away, race to a room and slam the door behind her. However, this was their first day before his people and every set of eyes in the great room followed them.

  It took all her inner strength, but Beatrice kept a pleasant expression, forcing the corners of her mouth to curve upward. Head held high, she racked her brain for how to apologize and what to say to her husband in hopes it would lessen his anger.

  Finally, they entered a grand chamber. A large bed with what looked to be newly made coverings was against the far wall across from a fireplace. In front of the fireplace were two chairs. Obviously, Gavin had sent word of his upcoming nuptials as soon as he’d asked for her hand in marriage.

  “Remain standing.” At his curt order, Gavin took her cloak from her shoulders and maneuvered her to stand beside a chair.

  A tremor shook her, so Beatrice grasped her hands together.

  With what seemed to be calculating moves, Gavin took a leather strap from beside the fireplace and walked to her. “This is not at all how I hoped our life together here would commence. I do not wish to punish you, Beatrice. I hate that it is not only expected of me, but that you have forced my hand in it.”

  “I-I am not sure what I was thinking. I reacted out of fear...”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Gavin snapped. Beatrice stiffened and held her breath. “There wasn’t one ounce of fear in you as you stood with your arrow aimed at the messenger. Not only that, you didn’t have any regard for the fact you made a very open target for anyone behind you.”

  She’d not considered it. “Oh.”

  “Yes. That is all you can say. Please refrain from any explanations as I do not have the patience for them right now.”

  He moved to a chair and looked down at it and then at her. “Bend over the back of the chair.”

  “What are you doing? No. I won’t do it.” Panicked, she looked to the doorway only to gasp at seeing her brother with his arms crossed, blocking any chance of escape.

  “Do as your husband asks, Beatrice. Do not humiliate our family further.” The disappointment in her brother’s expression tore her apart and she practically threw herself over the back of the chair.

  It was obvious Gavin did not use as much force as he could have behind the swift strikes on her exposed bottom, yet each strike burned, sending pain down her legs. Despite the pain being tolerable, Beatrice couldn’t stop from crying. Not only did she feel shamed by her actions but also, at the same time, she felt betrayed by the two men who she’d tried to protect. Her overzealousness had led to this. However, she wasn’t sure how this would impact her feelings toward Gavin.

  The last strike seemed harder and Beatrice cried out as her overly sensitive skin felt as if it split.

  “I will send Grisilda to see about you. Remain here until tomorrow. A meal will be brought up,” Gavin said in a stoic voice. He dropped the leather strap and stalked out of the room, slamming the door.

  Torquil Roberts had been his father’s closest advisor and friend. Although only nine and thirty, he was wise beyond his years. The formidable warrior came from a tragic life of being bastard born to a Lord who denied him for many years. As a young babe, he’d scraped by begging for food until the Lord finally took pity. He’d come to live at Hardigg years earlier and soon became a trusted friend of the family and had served as the head of Gavin’s father’s guard.

  Upon Gavin’s introduction to Oscar, both large males had sized one another up for a moment before shaking hands. They would become fast friends. Of that, Gavin had no doubt, as they were similar in personality.

  “I hear you came upon trouble on your way here,” Torquil said, settling with a glass of whisky. “I also hear your wife defended your honor.” There was a slight twitch to his lips, which made Gavin squeeze his own cup tight.

  There would be much talk of what happened since he didn’t doubt the guards would discuss it. Afterwards, their families would hear about it.

  “I punished her. However, I must speak again to her about it. I’m not sure how to handle the lass. She’s a spirited one.”

  Oscar cleared his throat. “It is my and my father’s fault. We allowed her too much freedom.”

  “Tis not a fault for a woman to be spirited. I don't believe Gavin would have married her otherwise,” Sinclair stated from the doorway.

  Torquil shook his head. “However, you must find a way to, I don’t know, perhaps control her in ways that won’t be harmful to her nature.”

  The warm whisky worked itself down his throat as Gavin wondered what Beatrice was doing at the moment. She had cried. He’d not expected it. It made him feel a louse for striking her. Had Oscar not been at the door, prepared to punish her himself, he’d have spared her after the first two strikes.

  “I am all ears,” he said to Torquil who refilled everyone’s glass. “Of course, none of you have wives, so I doubt you can help me.”

  The men nodded in acknowledgment and Gavin decided he’d have supper here in the study and finish the rest of the whisky.

  Chapter Ten

  Hardigg Castle, Carlisle, Central Cumbia, England

  The evening came soon since they’d arrived at the keep after midafternoon. Grisilda assisted Beatrice in unpacking. Afterwards, Beatrice took a hot bath. Although she suspected her maid knew what happened, the usually inquisitive woman spoke only about the travel and about settling in to her own room. “It’s very nice and the other maids here have been so friendly to me. They ask questions about you as expected,” Grisilda explained.

  “I’m tired. Can you add a log to the fire?” Beatrice asked as she went to the bed. “Good night. I hope you rest well.”

  “And you.” Grisilda hugged her and, after doing as requested, left the room.

  Aside from the glow of the fire, one lantern remained lit for when Gavin returned. Beatrice lay in bed and gingerly touched her bottom and found it only smarted a bit.

  The silence was broken when the door opened. Gavin sent his squire away, insisting he did not require assistance. There was some shuffling as he undressed and her husband slid into bed and promptly fell asleep.

  It was a while later that she realized how hurt she truly was. As much as she didn’t wish to resent him, it was hard not to be hurt that he’d struck her when she’d tried to help.

  The following morning, the room was starkly silent. Gavin’s side of the bed was empty and the air chilled. By the dimness outside the window, it was either cloudy or still very early. Beatrice slid to the edge of the bed and, donned a robe. She them walked to the window to peer outside.

  The guard was assembled. In front of them, Gavin and a man she’d not met before stood side by side. Oscar stood with the guardsmen on the front line.

  She leaned forward to get a better look. The man that stood beside Gavin was tall in stature with wisps of grey at his temples.

  Gavin paced as he spoke. He looked from one end of the lineup of men to the other. Once he finished speaking, the men disbanded and she moved back. He’d not said anything about her being banished, that she had to remain in the chambers, however, mortified over having caused any kind of embarrassment toward her brother and husband made it difficult to face anyone as yet.

  “I came to see about you.” Grisilda entered with her usual brisk pace. After a quick assessment of the wardrobe, the maid pulled a serviceable gown from it and placed it on the bed. “Once you finish washing your face, I will help you dress and see about your hair. Molly, the headmistress, is anxious for you to walk through the kitchen and such.”

  Of course, she had to see about the household and begin the process of asserting herself as the lord’s wife. That was the reason her husband had not punished her by ordering her to remain in the chambers, even though he had to have known it would be a worse punishment than any strikes to her bottom.

  She liv
ed for fresh air. Being outdoors was like a second home to her.

  The kitchen was large and pristine. Beatrice walked about peering into pots and ensuring to praise Molly and her two helpers, who beamed with pride at her constant exclamations of approval.

  “Milady, I pride myself on our garden.” Molly motioned to a doorway. “Would you care to walk outside?”

  “Of course,” Beatrice exclaimed with delight. “I’m anxious to see it. If it is anything like this wonderful kitchen, I will be spending much time there with you.”

  They walked outside and, indeed, Beatrice was astounded at the large garden. It was neatly divided between herbs, vegetable plants and flowers. There were trellises and short fences to keep rabbits away. In one corner, there was a small shed for drying herbs and in another corner there was a bench to rest upon.

  “It is lovely.” Beatrice couldn’t help the awe in her voice. “I have never seen a garden so perfect.”

  Molly’s warm gaze met hers and, at once, Beatrice knew she’d found a good friend. “I was fearful that something was amiss with you not being present at the evening meal, Milady.”

  “Please, call me Beatrice. If you must use a title when around the others, I understand. But I prefer when in private, you refrain. I find it tiresome.”

  The woman smiled. “Very well, Beatrice. Can I ask why you did not join the Lord last night?”

  “He was cross with me.” Beatrice pulled Molly to the bench. Once they sat, Beatrice told her of what happened in the forest. Molly laughed during most of the tale until having to wipe tears from her eyes.

  “You are certainly the perfect match for our lord. However, I hate he was forced to punish you.”

  “My bum is, indeed, sore,” Beatrice said and then let out a huff. “I find it intolerable that husbands can strike us as if we’re children to be chastised.”

  Molly nodded. “Tis the way of our people. Not much can be done about it. I know the lord. He is not the kind to be cruel to women.”

  “Hmmm,” Beatrice considered her husband. “I don’t know him well enough to comment. However, I can tell you he could have used more force. I can sit without much bother.”

  Both laughed when Beatrice rocked side to side.

  The evening meal came too soon. Beatrice felt ill prepared to meet new people. However, it could not be postponed. That she’d missed the first meal could be excused due to travel, but a second day would bring unneeded speculation.

  If the people suspected she’d been punished, they’d watch her like a hawk for any sign of discord between her and their lord.

  Upon descending the stairs, Gavin escorted Beatrice to sit at a table at the front of the great room. It was new to her to sit at the high board. Yet, she was reassured with his presence next to her. Everyone in the room slid curious glances to her, most seeming friendly.

  “How are you feeling?” Gavin asked as food was placed before them.

  It was not a question she felt prepared to answer. Anger simmered. “Very well, thank you for asking. Being struck is a favorite pastime of mine,” she replied with a forced smile for the sake of those who watched them.

  His nostrils flared and jaw clenched. “I had no choice.”

  Sinclair cleared his throat and motioned to the tray of food. “I see Molly has outdone herself today.”

  Succulent meats upon the tray were accompanied with root vegetables. On another tray sat a variety of breads and cheeses. Everything invited a diner to eat with the wonderful aromas.

  Gavin assisted in filling her plate before his own, waiting for their cups to be filled before standing. The room became instantly silent as everyone’s attention moved to him.

  “On this day, I declare a formal welcome to Hardigg Castle to my wife, Lady Beatrice, and her brother, Oscar Preston. With Lady Beatrice Mereworth at my side, we will ensure the strength and well-being of our people.” He turned to her and nodded.

  Everyone began calling out good wishes. An older man stood and held his arms up. “Your Grace, we wish you and Lady Beatrice many years and many children.”

  There were cheers of agreement and laughter.

  “Lady Beatrice, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.” The man she’d seen earlier sat on Gavin’s right side. He leaned forward to speak to her. “I am Torquil Roberts, part of the duke’s guard.”

  “And advisor,” Gavin added, his eyes moving from the handsome man to her. “Torquil has been my closest friend for many years.”

  Sharp green eyes met hers. “Milady, at your service.” His lips curved and he added. “I also echo the good wishes.”

  “Thank you.” A warm flush climbed to her cheeks at all the attention and her face began to ache from smiling at the crowd. Once everyone’s attention was taken by the food, she was finally able to relax enough to eat.

  Gavin studied her. “Tomorrow, the townspeople will come for a feast. The room will be filled to capacity. You must rest tonight.”

  She couldn’t help but wonder if, once again, he’d wait until late to join her in bed.

  Too nervous to sleep, Beatrice paced before the fireplace, her tea cold and forgotten. Besides her duties to the home, she had to discuss with Molly what other tasks were expected of her.

  Upon Lady Mereworth first marrying the Lord back at her village, Beatrice had heard she was often about, usually visiting townspeople or seeing about purchasing items at the market. It seemed strange to her that the lord’s wife would shop as she had maids to do it for her. However, it must have been nice to see her doing so. However, once Lady Mereworth became reclusive, it had all stopped and she was not seen again.

  Beatrice decided she’d do as the lady once did. She’d visit the people in their homes, purchase personal items for herself and Gavin in the village market as well as helping with the sick. Once that was settled in her mind, she wondered what to do about the current situation with her husband.

  All through the evening meal, her husband remained distant. Although she was still angry with him, it was perplexing. A discussion was needed. No need to wait for him to decide when and how they’d relate to one another. In Beatrice’s opinion, they’d become like Lord and Lady Mereworth the longer any distance between them remained.

  Her stomach flipped when the door opened and Gavin appeared. His gaze met hers and he went directly to his wardrobe and began undressing. “How fare you, Beatrice?”

  “Well, thank you. How about you?”

  He pulled his tunic up over his head and turned to her. “I meant your bottom. Are you hurting?”

  She jutted her chin out. “Do you ask again out of curiosity or because you care?”

  “Come.” Gavin held his hand out, waiting for her to decide whether to approach or not. Lips downturned and shoulders down, he appeared vulnerable. “Please.”

  Beatrice took his hand and he closed the distance between them drawing her close. The strength of Gavin’s arms surrounded her and she inhaled the smell of him. He smelled of outdoors and heather. The fields surrounding the keep kept the air perfumed.

  “I don’t wish to strike you ever again. It sickened me.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I was wrong to do it.”

  Finally, he said something she agreed with. However, she’d placed him in the difficult circumstance. How to agree with him without a promise not to disobey him in the future, she wasn’t sure.

  “I should not have done it. I realize it now. However, I did have good intentions.”

  Gavin let out a breath. “Would it be too much to expect you’ll listen to me from now on?”

  Did he truly expect her to reply to such a ridiculous thing? “I will endeavor to do my best to do as you ask.”

  He tilted her face up and his lips curved. “I suppose I have to accept that.”

  It was hard not to smile in return. She was glad to have gotten over the first problem together and relieved he’d initiated the conversation.

  “How often will we...” she started, her eyes going from his
eyes to his lips. “Be intimate?”

  “As often as you wish, dear one.” He lifted her and carried her to the bed. “I am fortunate that you enjoyed it and look forward to us joining again.”

  “I do.” Beatrice sighed when his mouth covered hers and Gavin began quick work of undressing them both.

  Gavin did not stop until both were fully nude and then pulled her down to the edge of the bed until her legs dangled over the edge. “I will show you new things tonight, beauty.”

  In a trance, her eyes followed him as he bent and pressed his lips to her stomach. Her skin tingled in awareness as Gavin trailed his tongue to her side just above her pelvic bone. Swirling his tongue and mouth, he traced over her skin. Shots of heat sped to between her legs and she lifted her head.

  His eyes met hers as he pulled her legs over his shoulders. “Relax. Allow me to bring you to release.”

  It was not easy to lie back not knowing exactly what he planned. When his warm mouth covered her sex, Beatrice jolted, unsure what to do.

  His tongue slipped between her nether lips and she no longer cared. Heartbeats echoed and breathing came in gasps as Gavin continued the delicious torture. Lights spiraled as her eyelids fluttered. “Ah!” Beatrice cried out and bucked up into his mouth, wanting to tell him to stop, as she feared fainting yet at the same time to continue.

  He blew a heated breath over her sex and then suckled the center into his mouth with so much force that Beatrice cried out and everything spiraled out of control.

  While she floated in a daze of passion, Gavin thrust into her, stretching her until filling her deep and began moving in and out with long, leisurely strokes.

  He pushed her legs up so her knees were spread and pressed down to hold her open as he moved faster. Once again, she climbed, the room disappearing. Beatrice could not keep from calling his name over and over again. The longer he continued, the more desperate she became for release. At the same time, the sensations were so wondrous she hoped they never stopped.