Frederick turned Aggie to face him and ’twas then that she finally looked at him. Fear flashed briefly in those dark brown eyes, but was soon replaced with a veil of resignation. Mayhap his bride was not as much against this marriage as she was afraid. Mayhap all she needed was a gentle hand.
Frederick bent and placed a hand on her tiny waist and gently pulled her toward him. He resisted the urge to chuckle at the gasp that escaped her lips when he touched her. The levity disappeared when he felt how tiny and slight she was. Dripping wet she wouldn’t weigh more than two stone. His large hand was able to span the entirety of her back from thumb to his little finger. Suddenly, he grew worried that when the time came for them to consummate their marriage, her tiny frame might not be able to withstand his massive one. He would snap her like a twig if he weren’t careful.
The kiss was meant to tell her what words could not, that he would always be gentle with her, that he was not her enemy but her husband. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to hers. For the span of two heartbeats, Aggie did not move, save for a slight tremble. A moment later, he felt her hand rest against his arm as she gave in to the kiss.
Frederick felt her lips quiver as she held tightly to his arm. Pulling her against his chest, he let his kiss linger, far longer than was decent or appropriate. Her lips were delightfully warm and soft. From the way she returned his kiss, he felt certain she had little, if any, experience in the art. That realization made his groin ache with desire. He would take great joy in teaching her the joys that can be found between husband and wife.
Tempted to hie her off to their bedchamber to begin what he hoped would be countless hours of instruction on the matter, he realized that might not be the most appropriate thing to do. He broke away and studied her closely. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked back at him.
He smiled down at her, gave a nod of satisfaction and her waist a gentle squeeze. Before he had the chance to tell her that there would be many more such kisses, a great cheer went up in the kirk. His men soon encircled him, tearing him away from his bride.
“I never thought I’d see the day!” Ian smiled as he slapped his hand on Frederick’s back.
“I can say the same,” Findal exclaimed with a beaming smile. “Does yer wee wife ken what an ass ye can be?”
Before Frederick could utter a response, he was swept out of the kirk and toward the keep.
AGGIE WAS LEFT standing alone at the altar next to Rose.
The kiss had unsettled her and she wasn’t quite sure what to think of how the kiss had made her feel. It was nothing at all like she had imagined it would be.
“Ye be married, Aggie!” Rose exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around her.
Aggie could not find the wherewithal to do so much as nod her head. Aye, I am. But the question remains fer how long?
Ailrig stood next to her, tugging on the skirt of her dress. “He be a good man, Aggie.”
Aggie looked down and forced a smile to her lips. Ailrig looked up at her with a most serious expression. “I like him, Aggie. I do no’ think we need to be afraid of him.”
She tousled his dark curls before pulling him to her side and wished she could warn Ailrig not to get too attached to the man that was fast becoming his hero. He’ll no’ be here much longer.
Seven
THE GATHERING ROOM was filled to capacity, overflowing with people celebrating the marriage between Frederick and Aggie. However there was one person who was conspicuously absent: the bride.
Frederick sat at the high table to the right of Mermadak and Donnel and another man whose name Frederick had yet to learn. The spot to Frederick’s immediate left was empty. More than an hour had passed since he and Aggie had exchanged their vows and she had yet to make an appearance.
The more weak wine he drank, the angrier he became. He surveyed the room for the hundredth time. People laughed, drank and ate and happily partook of the festivities. An imaginary line seemed to divide the room in half, with Frederick’s men taking up tables on his side of the room, while Mermadak’s people sat on the opposite side.
Frederick hoped there would come a day when these people were not thusly divided. His hope was that eventually they would all come together as friends and comrades. It would take a good deal of work and effort on his part, as well as his men’s.
Now if only he could get his wife to agree to work as hard as he intended. Where the bloody hell is she?
Frederick downed another cup of wine and held his hand up for more. Clair soon came to his side, filled his cup and walked away. He continued to study the people. As yet, not one person on Mermadak’s side of the room had inquired as to where Aggie might be. They all behaved as if it were just another day and her absence sparked not even a twinge of concern.
He tossed back the wine and slammed the cup down on the table. Mermadak looked at him with a raised brow, but only briefly, and soon turned his attention back to the conversation he was having with Donnel.
Ian and Findal however, could see that Frederick was growing angry. The left their table and stood before him. “Where be yer wife?” Ian asked in a low voice, being careful not to draw any attention.
“I do no’ bloody ken!” Frederick seethed as he pondered the situation. Mayhap this was yet another way for her to protest their marriage. As if her wedding attire were not enough to get her point across, she also chose to not attend her own wedding feast.
“More wine, m’laird?” Clair asked as she appeared beside him.
“No, I do no’ want any more of yer weak wine,” he said as he pushed back his chair. “I’d like to ken where the bloody hell me wife is.”
A bemused smile came to Clair’s lips. “I do no’ think she wishes to attend, m’laird,” Clair said. “Pardon me fer speakin’ out o’ turn, m’laird, but…” her words fell away, as if she were seeking permission to continue.
Frederick crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a nod.
“Well, ye see, Aggie be a stubborn thing. If she doesna want to do somethin’, well, she willna do it. And ’tis verra often that she refuses, ye ken.”
That was all Frederick needed to hear. “Do ye ken where she be?”
Clair smiled up at him thoughtfully. “Aye, in the yard behind the kitchens.”
Frederick gave a perturbed shake of his head and let his breath out through his nostrils. He bounded down the steps to go in search of his stubborn wife. Ian stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Frederick,” he warned. “Do no’ go tearin’ out o’ here with anger in yer heart. Ye must be patient with the lass.”
Frederick shook his brother’s hand away. “I’ll show her as much patience as she deserves, brother,” he said angrily as he stormed away.
Before leaving the gathering room, he stopped one of the McLaren servants. “Do we have musicians here?”
The young woman looked fearful as she nodded her head.
“Then have them begin to play. Me wife and I shall want to dance when I return.”
He left the confused young woman and went in search of Aggie.
She can protest all she wants, but ’twill get her nothin’ but an angry husband. She can forgo the feast, but no’ the dance.
IT TOOK VERY little time to find his wife. She sat under the canopy of an auld oak tree with Ailrig and Rose. Frederick paused, his breath and senses momentarily stolen away when he saw her smiling at the boy. It was the same bright, warm smile he had watched her give to little Fergus weeks ago at the Graham keep. So she does have a heart, he reckoned before regaining control of his senses and grabbing hold of his anger once again.
He thundered across the small yard and watched her smile fade as he approached. Her eyes widened with fear the closer he drew to her.
So that be yer game, aye, lass? he thought as he came to stand before her. Share yer smile with the boy and Rose, but fer me? Feigned fear. Ye may be stubborn now, but soon, I’ll have ye eatin’ out of the palm of me hand.
“Aggie,” he said with a nod of his head
and a slight bow. “Up with ye.”
Aggie shot a fearful glance at Rose before turning back to him.
“I said up. Now.” His words were cold and clipped.
She swallowed hard before handing her trencher off to Rose and standing.
“M’laird,” Rose said as she stood with Aggie. “Be there a problem?”
Frederick gave her a scowl that would have molted iron. “Aye, there be a problem,” he said. “Me wife is too damned stubborn to attend her own weddin’ feast.” He turned his eyes back to Aggie.
“I do no’ think ye understand, m’laird,” Rose began as she stepped forward.
“I understand well enough, lass.” He stepped forward and grabbed Aggie’s arm. “Ye can set yer stubbornness aside long enough fer a dance.”
A DANCE? WAS the man insane? Aggie tried to resist his strong pull on her arm but he was far too large and far too angry. She struggled with the skirt of her dress as he pulled her across the yard and into the keep. She tripped once and fell into him with a grunt. Frederick paused long enough for her to grab her skirt in one hand before tearing off toward the gathering room.
The tables were being pulled to the side and the musicians warming up when they entered. Frederick paused just inside the doorway, looking quite pleased with himself.
“Ah! Good!” he said cheerfully. Aggie could tell he was anything but cheerful or happy. She felt her heart fall to her toes as fear washed over her. “Me wife would like to dance!” Frederick shouted to the room.
A room full of confused eyes stared back at him as if he were some strange beast they’d never seen before. “Did ye no’ hear me? Me wife wishes to dance.”
Aggie swallowed hard and made an effort to stop trembling. She caught Clair in the middle of the crowd, smiling, taking great pleasure in Aggie’s public humiliation.
Frederick called for the music to begin. Three men sitting near the hearth began a lively tune while Frederick called for dancers to take the floor.
Aggie stood in the center of it all and felt the blood drain from her face. A good man? Nay. A good man doesna humiliate his wife like this. She was paralyzed with fear and overwhelming humiliation. People danced all around her while Frederick stood watching her closely. Soon, all eyes were on her as she stood frozen in place in the center of the room.
Mermadak’s odious laughter could soon be heard over the music and all others. Her skin crawled, her heart pounded against her breastbone and there was naught she could do to chase away the humiliation.
The room began to spin as Aggie took in deep gulps of air. Do no’ let them see ye cry. Do no’ let them see yer hurt.
It seemed hours had passed before a comforting hand grabbed hers and began to lead her away from the taunting laughter. Rose had come to her rescue, gently pulling her away.
“Where be ye goin’ with me wife?” Frederick demanded as he stood in front of them.
Rose squared her shoulders and looked up at him. “To yer room, m’laird,” she answered curtly as she tried to go around him.
“That won’t be necessary, lass. I’ll see her to our room.”
With that, he took Aggie’s hand in his and pulled her away from the crowd and up the stairs.
She could not look at him for she felt ashamed and knew it simply did not matter.
“Which room be ours?” Frederick barked his question.
Aggie took a deep breath and made her way to walk in front of him. He would not let loose the tight hold on her hand. Reluctantly, she led the way to the third door on the right and stood before it.
Just like when da beats ye, let yerself go numb. ’Twill all be over soon.
FREDERICK OPENED THE door and pulled her inside.
The room was dark, save for one candle burning on the mantle. Frederick took a quick survey of their surroundings as his wife stood near the door. A small bed, barely large enough for him, let alone the two of them, sat against the wall between the door and fireplace. A curtain hung over a doorway next to the fireplace. One small three legged stool stood before the cold hearth. One window adorned the opposite wall and under it was a small table holding a pitcher and bowl.
Frederick turned to face his wife. She wore the same blank stare she had worn when she walked down the aisle. Resignation.
“Sit,” he told her as he tried to gain some control over his anger. Any sympathy he may have felt for the woman disappeared when she stood in the center of the gathering room and refused to dance. He was determined to rid the stubbornness from her.
Aggie slowly walked to the stool and sat down with her hands in her lap. She kept her eyes glued to the floor.
“Weeks ago, I asked ye at the Graham keep if ye were agreeable to this union.” He began pacing back and forth. “Do ye remember what ye said?”
Aggie looked up at him disbelievingly.
“Aye,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Ye canna speak, I ken that! But ye can communicate. Ye nodded yer head that day. Was it a nod of affirmation that ye were agreeable to this union?”
Aggie nodded her head once. What other choice did I have? Had I said nay, neither one of us would be standin’ here today. I’d be dead and buried.
“Aye, ye did.” He stopped in front of her, towering over her as she sat meekly on the stool.
“I ken ye canna speak with words, but ye certainly have a fine way of makin’ yer opinion known!” He shook his head and stepped away.
“I have had enough of yer stubborn and petulant ways, wife,” Frederick began. He tried to keep a calm, even countenance and tone but it was quite difficult. “First ye refuse to see me when I sent fer ye yesterday. Then ye refuse to join the feast.”
AGGIE’S HEAD SHOT up and she looked utterly confused. She had no idea he had sent for her, though it would not have mattered. She had been confined to her room with her father’s promise of a beating if she left it.
He doesna understand the way of it.
“Then ye have the audacity to refuse to dance with me. Ye may think ye humiliated me in front of yer kin and people, but the only one who should be embarrassed is ye. I advise ye never to attempt makin’ a fool of me again.”
Aggie gave a slight, disbelieving shake of her head before looking at the floor. Aye, I was humiliated in front of everyone, but that is nothin’ new m’laird.
The more he spoke, the angrier he became. “And that dress?”
Aggie smiled as she looked down at the pretty blue fabric and gave it a gentle caress. Aye, I ken it be too big, but ’tis the finest gown I’ve ever worn.
“Ye look utterly ridiculous!” Frederick said gratingly. “Did ye make it look absurd on purpose? Did ye think if ye showed up at the kirk lookin’ like such a fool that I’d break the troth?”
She felt her skin heat as he hurled the insult her way. Her shoulders drooped as she fought the urge to cry. Aye, I ken I look absurd. Ridiculous.
“I’ll no’ have me wife bein’ stubborn or petulant. Ye’ll no longer act like a spoiled child, I’ll no’ allow it, do ye understand?”
Spoiled? Stubborn? Petulant?
“Ye will never again make such a grand attempt at humiliating me in front of our people, do you understand?”
Aggie gave a slight nod of her head. I didna do it a purpose. She sat quietly, bracing her mind and her body for the beating she was certain he was about to give her. What else did ye expect, ye fool?
Frederick let out a frustrated sigh. “I canna abide it, wife. I just canna abide it!”
He’ll beat me first, then take what he wants. Soon, he’ll see he did no’ get what he bargained fer. Ye’ll be dead before dawn. If no’ by yer husband’s hands, then by yer da’s.
Frederick was convinced she had done her best to humiliate him in front of his men and her people. All she had succeeding in doing was making herself look foolish and angering him. Never before had he been tempted to turn a woman over his knee, but the obstinate woman before him sorely tested his patience.
“I’ll give ye the n
ight to think on me words, wife. We’ll discuss this on the morrow when I’m no’ so bloody angry!”
With that, he stormed out of the room.
Aggie sat dumbfounded. Just hours ago, when she had been left standing at the alter, she wanted to call after him and beg him for another kiss. Now she wanted nothing more than for him to simply beat her and be done with it. On the morrow, he’d still be angry and ashamed to call her wife. Once he learned her secrets, it would be akin to someone waving a flag or giving a battle cry to let the beatings commence.
Between Frederick and her father, she didn’t stand a chance.
Eight
FREDERICK WOKE LATE the following morning with a thundering headache. After arguing with his new wife, he had returned to the wedding feast, grabbed a flagon of whisky and left. He drank it alone, wallowing in self-pity and anger, in the loft above the stables.
He lay in the straw with his eyes closed and thought back to the evening before. This was not how he had imagined his marriage would begin, awash in a sea of anger and humiliation. Why she felt the need to humiliate him in front of his men and her clan was beyond him. Frederick felt certain she could have found a better way to communicate any misgivings or fears over their union. Instead, she had chosen the coward’s way out.
Mayhap she thought if she humiliated or angered him enough he would break their union and ask for an annulment. But why? Why not just come to him and do her best to let him know how she felt.
The lass doesna speak, he mulled over Mermadak’s words. Frederick had to believe the lass had learned to communicate with others over the years. Hand gestures, grunts, hell, she could at the least draw a picture. He was not completely convinced she was unable to communicate with anyone.
He tried for a moment to empathize with her. How would he behave were he a mute young woman with a father like Mermadak McLaren? Frederick had witnessed with his own eyes and ears how Mermadak treated her. How often had he referred to Aggie as “it”? He had also witnessed Mermadak smack the lovely young woman that day at the Graham keep. Thinking back to that afternoon, his anger toward Aggie ebbed.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 7