Finding the strength finally to move, he set the items on the edge of the bed, seized the stool and set it on the floor beside the bed. His hands trembled for a moment as he stirred the salve a few times with the spoon that Rose had left on the tray.
“It-” he stopped when he heard his voice catch, like a young lad on the cusp of manhood. Glad that she could not see his face burning with embarrassment, he cleared his throat and started again. “It be a bit cold, lass.”
Aggie nodded, tempted to remind him this was not the first time salve had been applied to welts and gashes.
With great care and tenderness, Frederick went about applying the salve to the cuts. Aggie winced each time a dollop of the stuff touched her wounds. It stung like the devil at first, but soon, the stinging ceased before the pain began to dull. She knew they’d have to do this repeatedly, every few hours over the course of the next few days, to make certain the wounds did not fester. Eventually it wouldn’t sting so much.
After Frederick was done applying the salve, he carefully placed the large, folded pads of cloth over the cuts and sat back. He was trying to think of the best way to wrap the long strips of fabric around her torso without turning into a drooling mutt.
“D-do ye h-have the l-long s-s-strips?” Aggie asked after much time had passed.
He cleared his throat before answering. “Aye, I do.”
Keeping the pillow close to her chest, Aggie pulled herself to sit. She waited patiently for a time then began to wonder if there was a problem. At first she was uncertain what the problem was, then she realized he was being chivalrous. He was worried about her bosom! Were she not so bone tired and sore, she might have smiled. “If ye’d l-l-like to hand m-me the strips,” she began, “I will w-w-wrap them and y-ye c-can tie them.”
Suddenly, he felt quite blessed that his wife was far smarter than anyone gave her credit for.
Working together, they had the strips wrapped and tied around her torso. Frederick let loose the breath he’d been holding when he tied the last strip. “How do those feel, Aggie? No’ too tight?”
Aggie gave a slight shake of her head. “They b-be fine. Thank ye.”
“I think ye should rest now,” he told her.
He started to step away when she put a hand on his arm. Frederick studied her for a moment and could see there was something she wanted to say, but was hesitant. “Aggie?” he said softly. “Be there somethin’ ye need?”
Reluctantly, she withdrew her hand. “We n-need to t-talk,” she said as she cast her eyes to her knees.
Frederick nodded and pulled a chair up to the bed. Patiently, he waited for her to speak.
“Ye can c-cast me aside. N-n-no one will b-b-blame ye, fer I b-b-be d-defective and d-damaged. Th-the last m-man did.” Aye, the last man had tossed her aside within hours of the betrothal. It had been one of the most humiliating moments of her life.
His gut tightened. “What last man?”
“G-g-gunder McG-gruder,” she said as she looked away from Frederick. “W-when h-he heard m-me speak, h-he b-broke the troth.”
Frederick did not know who this Gunder McGruder was, but he found he hated the fool.
“B-because I b-be d-d-defective and d-damaged,” Aggie explained.
Frederick swallowed hard and fought to keep his anger toward Mermadak and Gunder and all the other bastards who had treated this wee lass so cruelly in check. If Aggie sensed he was angry, she might stop speaking to him. “I do no’ find ye defective or damaged, lass,” he told her honestly.
They looked at one another for a long while. Frederick sensed that she was mulling things over and that she was quite confused. Without a doubt, he knew that she was not used to people treating her with any amount of kindness, other than Rose and the boy Ailrig.
“Th-there be more,” she whispered.
Frederick noticed that she had begun to shudder. “Do ye need another fur?”
Aggie doubted there were enough furs in Scotland to help quash the bone-chilling cold that was settling in. Before she could answer, Frederick had draped another fur around her and settled back onto the stool.
There was so much she wanted to tell him, but where to start? Deciding the beginning was usually the best place, she took a deep breath and began. “I d-d-dinna humiliate you a-apurpose yesterday,” she whispered. It was important that he knew that. Nothing she had done the day before was intentional, other than wearing the Mackintosh plaid affixed to her chemise.
Frederick felt his face grow red again with his own humiliation. He thought back at all the ugly things he had accused her of last night. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “I am sorry fer all I said to ye last night, Aggie.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “The d-dress,” she stopped and cleared her throat. “’Tw-twas the p-prettiest I c-c-could f-find.”
His humiliation intensified. She had done the best she could, given the circumstances.
“I k-ken I b-be n-no’ p-pretty, but I did t-try to b-b-be pr-presentable.”
“Aggie, I do no’ want ye to fret over it. Ye’ve nothin’ to be ashamed of. And I think ye be quite bonny.”
Not for a moment did she believe him. Mayhap, years ago one could have called her bonny, but those days were long gone. There was no time to challenge his compliment for she was beginning to feel her courage wane. She needed to tell him the rest before she changed her mind.
“There be more,” she told him.
She’d spent the past four years being mute. He wasn’t about to tell her to be quiet now, even if he did think she should be resting. “I be listenin’, lass.”
Aggie took a fortifying breath. “I be no’ six and ten.”
Frederick chuckled. “I knew that was no’ true the moment yer da said it, lass,” he reassured her that it was of no import, but out of curiosity he did ask her true age.
“I’ll be four and twenty come November,” she said.
Though he had known all along that she wasn’t as young as Mermadak had said, he hadn’t thought her to be more than nine and ten. “That be right young,” he said. “I be near thirty years auld.”
Aggie didn’t think that too horribly auld and told him so before silence filled the air. “There be more, Frederick, and I f-fear ye’ll want to leave once ye hear it.”
“Aggie, there be nothin’ ye could tell me that would make me want to leave. Please, believe me when I say I will no’ leave ye.” Rubbing her shoulder gently with his hand he bade her to continue.
“I be no’ pure,” she whispered.
He felt her grow tense and stiff, as if she were bracing for his ire. She was a woman full grown and quite bonny. While he found a very large part of him wanted to be the first and only man she had ever been with, the logical thinking part of him said otherwise. She was a woman full grown. It stood to reason that she would have had a lover or two over the years. He’d not hold that against her. “Neither am I,” he said, hoping she’d find some relief in his comment. “Ye be a right bonny woman, Aggie. A woman full grown. I canna find fault in ye fer havin’ a lover or two.”
Slowly, she pushed away, unable to look at him. Her chest felt tight, constricted. She rarely cried, at least not in front of anyone. But this day she had shed more tears than she could remember shedding in some time. Typically, she saved her tears for the deepest part of the night, when no one could see or hear her. But cry now, she did. Her shoulders shuddered and her body shook. Aggie closed her eyes as she buried her face in the fur she held clenched in her hands.
Frederick’s heart felt heavy as he watched his wife fall apart in front of him. He climbed into the bed and wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest. He tried to be careful of her injuries, but he knew that what she needed most right now was comfort and reassurance.
“Wheest, lass,” he soothed. “Ye needn’t fret over it. I’ll no’ hold it against ye for havin’ a lover before me,” he tried to reassure her. He soon began to realize these were more than tears o
f regret. “Aggie? Why do ye cry so? I tell ye true that I be no upset that ye had a lover before me.” Did she shed tears because there had been more than one? His mind raced with endless possibilities and explanations for her anguish. “Was it more than one?” he dared ask.
It hurt. To her very marrow it hurt. Had it only been a lover, some youthful indiscretion, she would not be falling into a bubbling heap of tears. She had to tell him, there was no other way around it lest he think she had lifted her skirts for dozens of men. It hadn’t been like that, not at all.
Doing her best to slow her tears, she took a deep breath. “Nay, ‘twasn’t like that,” she mumbled into his chest. There was no way to tell the story gently. No way to make it sound any different than it was. “I was three and ten,” she paused and took another breath. It had been ten long years since she had talked aloud about that ugly day. It was just as difficult and painful now as it had been back then. “I was walkin’ t-to Rose’s house. He c-came from the w-woods.”
The imaginary fist around his heart increased its hold. Instinctively, he knew where her story was going. Anger simmered as he took one breath after another to will himself to remain calm.
“HE WANTED A k-kiss and I t-told him n-nay. I t-tried to g-get away b-but he was b-bigger and stronger,” she explained. He was also just as mean and vile as her da was now. The memories of that day came crashing in like waves against the crags. Her heart pounded, her lungs felt constricted from reliving it. “I n-never thought he w-would hurt m-me like that. He was always t-teasin’ me, b-but I n-never thought he’d d-do such a thing.”
Gently Frederick pushed her away. Aggie dared look up. His jaw clenched and there was no masking his anger. “I swear it, F-frederick!” she blurted out. “I t-tried to fight, I did! He was nearly as big as ye and I d-didna k-ken what to do! I was so afraid. I was t-too far from the k-keep and n-no one c-could hear me! I told him nay, nay, nay but he wouldna listen!” She had fought, fought with all her might. She had kicked and screamed and tried to claw her way out from under him. In the end, he was too big, too strong, and far too angry.
For a moment, she was swept back to what had started out as a beautiful spring day. She could almost hear the birds chirping and smell the blooming spring flowers. She could see herself smiling as she walked blissfully unaware of the brutality that was about to befall her. She recounted to Frederick most of what had happened, how frightened she had been, how badly it all hurt. “When he was d-done, he took his d-dirk…” her words trailed away. She shivered as she lifted fingers to the scar that ran down the side of her face. “He c-cut m-me face. Said ’twas to remind me of him. Every t-time I saw m-me reflection, I would th-think of him.” Bile rose in her throat when she remembered.
“Be that why yer da is so cruel?” Frederick asked.
“N-nay, da d-doesna ken it,” she said, wiping away more tears. “I told me m-mum. She worried that if I t-told d-da he would make me m-marry him.” And he would have for Mermadak had held the man in such high regard. “I would have t-taken me own life if d-da had f-forced a marriage between us. I c-couldna do that, Frederick. So we k-kept it secret.”
He took so much from her that day. Her innocence, her sense of safety, her future. Now, she had to relive it, try to explain it to the man sitting before her who looked angry enough to bite his sword in half. “I tried to get away, Frederick, please, do no’ think me a whore.” Her voice was raw as she pleaded with Frederick to not think ill of her.
“Nay!” he exclaimed. “I do no’ think ill of ye, Aggie.”
Since that day, Aggie had flinched whenever anyone was close enough to touch her. She had always remained at least two arm lengths away from people. It was a very long time before she’d allow even her mother to touch her. It surprised her now that she did not feel afraid as she not only sat so close to Frederick, but had also allowed him to hold her. Instead of flinching and scurrying away, she found she did not want to leave the warmth his arms offered.
She did not feel afraid. Nay, for the first time in many, many years, she felt safe. Protected. She buried herself into his chest again, glad for the warmth and safety she found there. How could he not leave in light of everything she had just told him?
He was barely able to make out her words, muffled as they were as she spoke into his chest.
“How can I want ye?” he repeated her question to make certain he’d heard it correctly. He could hardly understand the reasons himself. Explaining it to her would be difficult. “Wheest, lass,” he whispered into her still damp hair. “’Tis no’ yer fault what happened to ye that day,” he said as he rested his cheek against her hair.
She continued to sob against his chest, shaking her head as if to say he were wrong.
“I tell ye true, lass. Ye were but a child. Ye canna be held responsible fer what an evil bastard did to ye.” His heart broke for the little girl Aggie had been and for the woman she was now. He was doing his best to hold his fury in check, but it was not easy. “Tell me his name, lass.”
She sat upright, looking both confused and fearful. Gently, Frederick placed his palms along the sides of her face and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. “Wh-why?” she asked him.
“So that I might hunt the bastard down and kill him.”
Aggie swallowed hard and shook her head.
He was certain she had her reasons for not divulging that information. Shame, humiliation or fear. Or a combination thereof. She’d been through enough this day and he’d not push her. But someday, once he had earned her trust, he would learn the man’s name.
Gently, he lifted her chin and tried to offer a warm smile. “I pledge to ye this day, Aggie, that I’ll no’ let any more harm come to ye. But I will seek to avenge yer honor someday. What that bastard did to ye,” he shuddered. “I’ll no’ let ye be hurt like that ever again.” He wiped away more tears from her cheeks that were left red and flushed from crying.
She looked into his eyes, searching, he supposed, for reassurance. He remembered then why her father had beaten her: because they hadn’t consummated the marriage.
Frederick swallowed hard and let his breath out slowly. Knowing there was a distinct possibility that Aggie was not anxious to make their marriage legal just yet, he trod softly on the topic. “Aggie, I think we should take our time to get to know one another.” He hoped she could glean his true meaning without him having to explain it more fully.
Aggie sniffled and drew the drying cloth out from under the fur. She wiped her cheeks and took a deep, shuddering breath. “’T-tis yer r-right as m-me husband t-to take what y-ye want.”
Frederick shook his head. “Nay. I’ve never done that to a woman and I’ll no’ start now. I’ll never take what isn’t freely given, Aggie. I’d no’ do that to ye, regardless of whether or no’ ye had suffered so. ’Tis yer right to give it, no’ fer me to take it. I’ll no’ take ye to our bed until ye give me that right.”
Just when she thought he could not surprise her further, he did just that. He wasn’t going to force the issue; he wasn’t going to take what the law said he could simply because he was her husband. She blinked at him, disbelievingly.
“B-but,” she began to argue. Frederick stopped her by placing a fingertip to her lips.
“Wheest lass,” he whispered. “I ken ’twill be difficult fer ye to believe me and to trust me. I shall do me best to earn yer respect, to earn yer trust. I be a flawed, imperfect man, Aggie. I can only promise that I will do me best by ye.”
His kind words, his tenderness toward her was overwhelming. The tears returned and she fell against his chest unable to control the combined sense of relief and confusion.
Mayhap, there was a God after all.
Eleven
ONCE SHE HAD cried out all her tears, Frederick set her aside, pulled the fur around her shoulders, and stood. “Where be yer nightdress, lass?” he asked as he began to search the room for her belongings. As near as he could tell, the only belongings here were his. Three trunks sat st
acked against the wall near the door. Two small crates he knew to be his, sat next to them. Perhaps his wife had her belongings in an adjoining chamber. He looked about the room for a door that would lead into such a chamber.
Aggie looked over her shoulder at him. “I d-d-dunna have a n-nightdress,” she answered.
“What do ye sleep in then?” He regretted the question the moment it left his lips. He spied a curtain hanging on the wall next to the fireplace and pulled it aside, thinking it was an adjoining bedchamber. ’Twas a very small room, empty save for one brown dress that hung on a hook next to an old, worn apron and a faded green shawl. Below that was a small cloth bag. He picked it up and peered inside. Two sets of woolens and a scarf. As he stood in the center of the tiny room, he realized he could reach out and touch the walls without extending his arms all the way. This was not his wife’s bedchamber, but these had to be her things.
“M-me chemise in th-the summer, and all m-me c-clothes in the w-winter,” she answered.
Things were far worse than he had imagined. How on earth could her father, the chief, allow any of his people to suffer so that they had to sleep in all their clothing just to stay warm? “Lass, where are the rest of yer things?” he asked.
Aggie turned and peered over the edge of the bed. “They b-be there, m’laird.”
“I don’t think so,” he said as he stepped out of the room and held the curtain open. “There be just a dress and apron and little else. I can fetch the rest of yer things fer ye if ye want.”
She twisted her lips and raised a confused brow. “There b-be no m-more, m’laird,” she told him.
Pity coiled around his heart for this wee young woman. She owned two dresses. Two. Between his stepmother and all his sisters they had enough dresses to clothe every woman in Scotland. And his family was by no means as rich as David. He felt his wife ought to own more than two dresses.
Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series Page 12