Fiona thought of her father’s words again. Certainly, walking into this house, she could control her fate and she would; even though she’d be quaking in her boots as she did.
“You might treat this as an adventure,” Joshua added. “Certainly not the worst thing that has ever happened to you. There’ll be lots of new things to keep your mind occupied.”
His speech complete, Joshua drove the rest of the way to the house, stopping just in front of it. Climbing out, he lifted Fiona down and the two climbed the broad front steps arm and arm, just as the double doors swung open.
Chapter Nine
Fiona sat at one end of an enormous banquet table in the Kane Manor dining room. She felt so small and infinitesimal in this house, everything was on such a grand scale. Looking up, the ceilings in these rooms went on forever, so it appeared. There were paintings there, some fine artist’s handiwork. She wondered who would spend their hours craning their necks to see the voluptuous maidens floating across the heavens of this house, who would have the time to view the rich tapestries on the walls or admire everything that gleamed with polish? Though she was impressed by the enormity and scale of this fine mansion, she also saw beyond the finery, to an inherent shabbiness that comes with lack of care. It didn’t surprise her in a house ruled by men. It had been sometime since a woman’s hand had been within these walls. She thought it strange, three brothers with no wives.
Though Fiona sat next to her husband at dinner, she was hardly comforted by his nearness; and it appeared that everyone shared her uneasiness. Joshua’s reemergence from self-imposed exile was bad enough for the household, but Fiona’s appearance as his wife was a shock that compounded what was surely to be a difficult adjustment.
Nonetheless, she was reminded by her husband, that this was now her house as well as his; and if he was welcome to rejoin the family, she would be welcome too.
While the company of five was served their evening meal, Joshua listened to his brothers recount certain matters of estate business they thought important for him to know, and unimportant enough to share even with his wife in the room. These tedious details were more than Fiona cared to hear about; and while she looked attentive, her mind was in a cloud all its own, putting the brief pieces of information Joshua had told her about his three brothers with their faces, and distinct personalities.
Brother Nigel, the second oldest had been the head of the house until Joshua’s arrival; but he was quick to relinquish the task, quick to bring Joshua back to the estate once his father died. He was a man of rough tastes, without diplomacy and manners to take on a position of leadership for such a grand home and its holdings. He preferred the out of doors and working the land, managing the field workers and the stables; but he had no desire to keep accounts, or run the daily business that was fraught with decisions.
Galen, the youngest brother, was sensitive and good-natured. He liked books, and according to Joshua, if he had his way, he’d have been a teacher in a local school. But their father had shunned such an occupation for one of his children, absolutely forbidding it. Galen had taken to his studies and wrote as a scholar, though his gifts were never appreciated by the elder Mr. Kane. The young man’s looks reflected his studious manner, much more delicate and refined looking than his brothers; he had the build, the face and the temperament of a true aristocrat, though he had the smile of a gentle lover. Fiona liked him the moment she first saw him, witnessing the blushing expression on his face when he gazed at her, as if he was looking at some fragrant angel.
And then, there was Lowell. The third and middle brother was a dark mystery to Fiona. His eyes were cunning, his hair a wild version of Joshua’s and Nigel’s, but curly and unruly. Unlike them, he was clean shaven so his smile stood out distinctly on his face. And what a smile it was, tainted with artful designs Fiona couldn’t quite comprehend, or trust. Lowell eyed her scrupulously, almost as if he was disrobing her the way he stared at her through dinner, saying nothing, but scrutinizing the bodice of her dress for some time, and then making a distinct line with his eyes, right up her neck to her face and mouth. It reminded her of men who’d eye her in the tavern, their thoughts too lusty to be discussed in public conversation. They were the type to whisper to her in back hallways or behind the tavern, making advances no decent woman would ever accept. His gaze made her shiver nervously, so she looked away, keeping her eye fixed on her husband.
To quell her gnawing fears, she rested her hand on Joshua’s firm thigh beneath the table, where she began a gentle massage.
“Fiona, you say you’re from the South, what kept you engaged before you met my brother?” Lowell’s voice suddenly rang out over the others, addressing her quite out of the blue, so that she jerked, startled.
“I was a barmaid,” she said.
“Ahhh! Noble profession,” he observed.
“Are you mocking me, sir?” Fiona asked, eyeing him directly.
“Please take no offense,” he replied, with a delicious smirk on his face. But the insult was already made, meant to go straight her heart.
She nodded at the man, and turned back to Joshua.
“And what was it that made my brother fall in love with you?” he went on. “Perhaps your earthy wholesomeness?”
“Lowell, keep your peace brother, she’s just arrived here. She hardly deserves your inquisition,” Joshua said. He rose from the table, pulling Fiona up with him, and with a brusque nod to his brothers, he gathered his wife to his side and they left the room.
Joshua noticed Fiona’s sigh of relief once they’d left the dining room. It was his wish that she avoid his brothers altogether; but as long as they were living in his father’s house, that would be impossible.
Without a word, Joshua led her up the sweeping staircase in the front hall, directing her to their room. It had been a awkward arrival from the start. The servants, not aware of Joshua’s return or his new bride were embarrassed to inform the new master of the house that his room had not yet been prepared. They’d scurried all afternoon to make it ready for them, promising him that it would be complete after the evening meal. Opening the door, he was glad to see that it was.
Fiona’s first glance at her new bedroom shocked her so much, she forgot all the things that she’d planned to say to Joshua about their disquieting dinner.
“It’s magnificent, my darling. I thought our bedroom at the cottage was paradise, but this is heaven. Such beautiful things!” She spotted the finely carved mantle over the fireplace, fine porcelain figurines, tapestries on the walls, thick plush rugs beneath her feet. She dropped down to the soft floor. “Oh let me take off my shoes and walk on this,” she said excitedly. “It feels like a cloud.” Removing her tiny boots, she let her toes be tickled by the cushiony fabric.
At one end of the room there were long broad windows that looked out to the front of the house. Now it was too dark to see well outside; but she thought of morning, how the sun would come in the windows and warm her. Letting her eyes rove further, she saw that the furniture was of dark mahogany and very masculine, except for one delicate chair and table near the windows, which without knowing why, she suspected belonged to her.
“This is mine?” she said, touching the well-polished wood with her fingertips.
“It is,” Joshua said, looking pleased with her pleasure.
And the bed … like the one in the cottage, it was enormous, though this one was so much finer, yet.
“I don’t know how I’ll make love on this, it’s so, so … . oh my, I have no words . .”
“You don’t know how?” Joshua asked, his eyes sparkling. “Shall I show you?” he asked, motioning her toward him.
Fiona blushed. Not normally shy with him, she looked as if she had the whole world watching her.
“Come here, I’ll have you now.” The command in his resonate voice made the most curious tingling sensation between her thighs. No longer a blacksmith, her lover and husband was a man of power, and authority. She would do well to go to him.
“I hope you’ll find the room adequate for you, Mrs. Kane,” he said, looking down into her eyes, his dark ones glimmering that perfect carnal passion that made her heart skip excitedly, and her loins pulse with an animal kind of fury driving them. One hand around her torso, one at her crotch, he lifted her to the tall bed, and quickly fell upon her. He took the buttons of her dress one by one with swift fingers for such huge hands. Opening the bodice wide, he pushed the silk beneath away, and her two breasts spilled out, the well-defined flesh no longer confined, his hand could massage them wilfully, with a touch so profound that it made her gasp.
“This will not change,” he vowed, as his mouth descended on one pink nipple, his lips taking it between them, a gentle sucking made it tighten into a perfect bud. He repeated the process with the second nipple, til both were hard and throbbing, the sensation going straight between her legs.
He worked his way down her bodice further, letting loose all the buttons, drawing the material away, so she was wearing just a little slip of cloth which he easily dispensed with. “I like you naked, Fiona, and passionate with me.” She needed no further invitation; she wanted to be with him, with her body moving in his. So much raw tension need to be released, she could lose herself, letting go all the anxiousness that fed the hours between leaving her cottage, and coming to his godawful place… godawful, except this room, this glorious room, and this glorious bed, this haven of her own in her strange new home.
Fiona could feel the pulsing at her thighs, desire mounting, ever on the increase with every gesture of arousal, every touch of his hand across her thighs and between them, through her hair, over her breasts, and down her gently moving belly.
When he moved down to kiss her there he smelled the sweet perfume of her body. He parted her legs so that he could give her plump cunt a firm squeeze.
“Ah yes, my love, hold me there.” And he held her tight at her pubic mound, then let his fingers slip lower into the wetness that was flowing. He worked his way into her center, slipping easily inside the hole, even as his mouth descended on her lips above. From above and below, those twin openings abounded with a great burning fire. Feeling a burst of energy, of life-force drawing him in, he replaced his fingers with his erect penis, forcing it deep into that encircling energy.
“Ah, my love, Fiona.” He rocked with her in his arms, beginning a long sensuous thrusting, that played with all her most sensitive places.
“Ah, oh yes, pleeeeees more,” her tender cry continued, and his body massaged hers into a fine orgasm that rose slowly and exploded quietly, not like something raw or wicked, not as startling as it was sometimes with him, but peacefully. Joshua’s seemed as peaceful in its finale. It was a good ending for them both, for a day too filled with agitation for either one to enjoy, the perfect way to end a harrowing day, and begin their life in their new home.
As they lay together in the midst of the rumpled sheets, Fiona played with his limp cock. “It looks so sweet like this,” she said happily. “Do you suppose that we could do this again, right away?” she asked, “I could use it a half dozen more times tonight.” She was sounding more lighthearted, but she was serious.
“You’ll wear me out, lass,” he said, making her come to his lips with hers, so he could kiss her.
“But I deserve it, after everything I’ve been through.”
“Has the day been so horrible?”
She looked coy, trying to smother a whole host of things she could say. It was not the time, so she decided. “Oh darling, the day has been perfect,” she said, “especially now.” Her eyes glimmered for him, bathing him in the sensuous light that would always engage him so he could think of nothing but her.
He smiled at her, but pulled away. “I would stay, my love, but my brothers call.”
“Oh no,” she groaned.
“I will return and screw you blind.” He gave her a lascivious grin. “You arrange our things, get settled. This is your room, you may do anything that you want with it. I’ll be up to see you later.”
She didn’t like his leaving her so soon, but then, he wasn’t that far off, and he would be back.
Beginning a more thorough inspection, Fiona acquainted herself with the lovely room, toying with its fine expensive pieces, feeling the fabrics, the velvet, the lace, the embroidery, the heaviness of the tapestry, the delicacy of frills. It was the blend of luxury that had faded some, the velvet not so bright, worn a little, the lace broken in places and not so crisp, the embroidery frayed in spots, some woman’s fine handiwork used thoroughly. She liked it better that way, slightly worn by years of use. She liked the fragrance of these old things.
Putting away a few personal items in the bureau drawers, and the large wardrobe on the wall, she sat in the delicate chair thinking how pretty it made her feel. It may not have been as comfortable as the one before the fireplace at the cottage, but it would do.
Though Fiona was tired, she wasn’t able to sleep without Joshua there. And it was far too early anyway. Dressing again, so she was presentable, she left the room. Tiptoeing through the upstairs hallway, she was amazed by the very size of the long corridor; though she was too shy to peek in the rooms, afraid she’d find one of the brothers. That would embarrass her beyond belief. Deciding to go downstairs, she retraced the steps she’d taken with Joshua earlier. It was still hard to get her bearings in the enormous house, but listening for the sound of voices, she followed them to just outside one parlor. The door ajar, she could hear Joshua and his brothers talking inside, strangely reminiscent of men’s conversations she ignored in the tavern just months ago. It seemed even men of breeding talked so drearily. She had learned to half listen to most conversations of the sort, picking up useful pieces of information, disregarding everything else. They were talking about crops and horses and other such tings, and Fiona was about to walk away.
“So, brother, how did you make this choice of wives?” Lowell’s voice rose above the others, making a startling turn in the conversation. She wondered if he knew she was listening, though there was no way she could be seen from where she stood.
“I love her, Lowell, that should be reason enough,” she heard Joshua reply.
“But a peasant girl?”
“The term peasant is demeaning and unnecessary.”
“And why do you care anyway, Lowell?” Galen interjected.
“I say, if she’s beautiful, and she is,” Nigel added, “then let him be. The only man in this house that would have cared about her family history is now dead.”
“I would think, Joshua,” Lowell began again, “that you would have more consideration for her.”
“And how’s that?” Joshua asked.
“The gossips and bitties will eat her alive. One party, and she wilt like an uprooted flower. You take such beauty away from its nurturing soil and expect it to survive. I vow, my brother, she will shrivel in this place.”
“I find your assumptions vulgar,” Joshua retorted. And I’ll trust you’ll not make them known to Fi. She’s nervous enough in this place, without thinking that my brothers find her lacking in some way.”
“Oh, I doubt she’s lacking in any way that matters,” Lowell purred. “But I say, just enjoy her in her own element. I’m sure it would be much more fun anyway, being the whoring bastard that you are.”
“Lowell enough!”
He laughed wickedly. “Ah brother, you may be the patriarch of this place, by default of course, since none of us would have it, but you will not be ordering me to do anything. I just worry that your poor bride will find herself treading water in our world, hardly able to keep her head about her.”
“You leave my bride to me,” Joshua said. “And I daresay leave her alone.”
“You mean keep my hands off?” he asked.
Fiona wished that she could see her husband’s expression, but it was clear it was devastating, the way Lowell gave him a swift apology.
“Sorry Josh, no desire to offend you.”
It was
a startling conversation that would take some moments to digest. Did they truly think her an inappropriate choice for her husband, and what of the “gossips and bitties” that Lowell spoke of; it reminded her too much of that hurtful occasion when gossiping women had scared her out of the general merchandise store. But she had little time to ponder this information, when she heard the men stir. Afraid they might be leaving the room, she turned quickly to return upstairs, unfortunately upending a vase that was sitting beside the doorway. The clatter was too much to cover up, and while she was on the floor trying to put the lovely piece back in place, she suddenly found herself looking up into Lowell’s devious eyes.
“A problem, dear, couldn’t get close enough to the door to hear?”
Joshua pushed his way beyond him, and helped Fiona to her feet.
“I was afraid to disturb you, hearing your private conversation, I was about to return to our room.” She answered it all truthfully, and Joshua believed her.
“Don’t worry, luv,” he said with an arm about her waist. “You go upstairs and I’ll join you shortly.” He cast a seductive gleam her way, as she gave him a little wave. Lowell standing just behind him, added his own provocative beaming smile that would have unnerved her, if it had been him alone.
She didn’t like the man. Not one bit.
***
Fiona put her annoyance and disquieting fear aside. Though the next two days at the estate, she fared no better. Dinners were a disaster with all the brothers at hand. For the most part Nigel ignored her, and sweet Galen was kind enough to attempt pleasant conversation; but Lowell was simply reprehensible with continued jibes and insidious barbs that cut through her attempts at composure.
In the Forest of the Night & The Barmaid and the Blacksmith Page 18