by Amanda Scott
“An excellent notion,” Hugh said, but he was watching Jenny.
“I’ll leave you now,” she said. With another brief curtsy, she left the room and hurried upstairs, hoping Phaeline would not follow her.
Reaching her own bedchamber, she found Mairi and Fiona inside, waiting.
“We knew she’d send you here as soon as they stopped scolding,” Fiona said.
“I’m leaving with Sir Hugh,” Jenny told them as she shut the door. “Prithee, do not try to dissuade me, either of you. Do you ken aught of marriage settlements?”
Both Mairi and Fiona shook their heads.
“Apparently, Phaeline and my uncle contrived things so Reid would take over my estates and title, but Sir Hugh said they broke the law. As he and I are married—”
“Married!” they exclaimed in unison.
Jenny explained, adding, “So I’m going with Hugh. I expect we truly are married now, for they all say they will seek an annulment. But I can not stay here.”
“Did you really sleep with him?” Fiona demanded. “What was it like?”
Jenny chuckled. “I did sleep with him, but not as you mean or as Reid thinks, because Hugh did not want to make getting an annulment more difficult or to get me with child. But after the wedding, the others prepared his tent for us, and I did not want to tell them what a coil they had made for us. Nor did I want to make Hugh tell them, especially as it was my own lie that began it all.”
“Was Hugh furious?” Fiona asked. “My mother has spoken often of his fearsome temper. Is it fearsome?”
“I do not find it so, although he did say things I’d liefer not have heard. I had not seen him truly furious until today. But I could tell he was angry as he read my marriage settlements, and he grew angrier yet when Reid said I must be punished.”
“Reid does have a right to be angry with you,” Mairi said reasonably.
“Aye, perhaps, but when he demanded punishment, Hugh declared that as far as he is concerned, we are married and will stay married unless I will it otherwise.”
“But you do will it otherwise, don’t you?” Fiona said. “You cannot want Sir Hugh for a husband. Why, you said as much, yourself, the night you left.”
Jenny hesitated. “I don’t know what I want anymore,” she said. “But I am leaving with Hugh in the morning. So, if you two mean to stay here and talk, you must help with my packing and tell me all that happened whilst I was away. Did they find any of the missing jewelry.”
“How do you know any jewelry was missing?” Fiona asked.
“Hugh told me, of course, when he found me. Was much taken?”
“Aye, a good many pieces,” Mairi said. “But a traveler found nearly all of them not far from our gate, so it must have been someone playing a prank. Phaeline was furious that she and Father had to return the missing pieces. She said it made it look as if someone here had taken them, whilst she is sure the minstrels did.”
“Except they couldn’t have taken all of it,” Fiona said. “Recall that things were taken after they had gone, including Mam’s pearls.”
Jenny said, “I just don’t think minstrels would steal from houses where they perform. If people even suspected they might, they would not let them into ordinary houses, let alone into places like Lochmaben and Threave.”
“Lochmaben!” Fiona exclaimed. “Sakes, everyone there is English!”
“Aye, but I sang there,” Jenny said. “As for the minstrels’ honesty, the Sheriff of Dumfries invited them to perform in the market square there.”
Recalling that the sheriff’s men had searched all the tents in the Dumfries encampment for missing jewels, she tried to fit a simple prank at Annan House with that knowledge. They had found nothing, though. She needed to think more.
However, Mairi and Fiona demanded then that she tell them the whole tale of her adventures, so she did her best to comply. But she left out her suspicions of intrigue brewing and other, more private things.
Supper was a tense meal, made tolerable only by Hugh’s presence and that of Fiona and Mairi. When Jenny finished eating, she had no desire to linger at the table or to join Phaeline in her solar with the others, so she excused herself, saying she was tired from all her travels and wanted to sleep.
No one tried to dissuade her, but alone in her bedchamber, she felt unusually lonely and uncertain of herself. Remembering that Peg had suspected Phaeline was not pregnant at all, Jenny sent a gillie to find Phaeline’s maid-servant, Sadie.
When the girl came to her, Jenny said, “I’m leaving early in the morning for Kirkcudbright, Sadie. Prithee, help me fold these dresses into yon sumpter basket.”
“Och, aye, I did hear that, me lady. We’d nae suspicion that ye’d marry Sir Hugh. ’Twere a rare stunner, that, as we thought ye was to marry his brother!”
“It was a surprise to me, too,” Jenny said with a smile, watching as Sadie deftly folded one of her gowns. “How well you do that! I vow, I tried three times to make it fit without crushing it.”
“Aye, well, I do ha’ to look after her ladyship’s things, don’t I? And her being that particular, I can tell ye.”
“How does she fare?” Jenny asked. “Peg said she feared something may have gone amiss.”
Sadie’s eyes flew wide, and she stared as if she did not know what to say.
“What is it, Sadie? Should I not have asked after her?”
“I’d liefer ye didna ask me, me lady. I shouldna say nowt.”
“I see,” Jenny said. Peg had been right then. “Did she find her missing pearls?”
“Nay, not her, although Lady Johnstone did find her necklace. And them other pieces that went missing, they all turned up, too. I did think I’d found three o’ the lady Phaeline’s pearls, but she said they was old ones from summat else and she were missing her whole string. Faith, though, she slapped me so me ears rang.”
“Oh, Sadie, no,” Jenny said sympathetically.
“Aye, and she thinks someone in the castle took them. I feared she meant me, but I’d never take nowt that wasna mine. We none of us would, Lady Jenny… Sakes”—she threw up her hands—“what do I call ye now? I’m thinking I should call ye Lady Douglas or Lady Thornhill, but I dinna ken which.”
“Neither,” Jenny said with a chuckle. “I am still properly Lady Easdale, Sadie, but I shan’t mind a bit if you go on calling me Lady Jenny.”
She wondered what Hugh would think of that, but as he had made the point himself, he would surely understand that she retained her title. Just thinking of him made her wish he were there so she could talk to him. Doubtless, a wife had the right to summon her husband to her. She wondered if Hugh would come if she did.
Still at the high table, Hugh was longing for his bed. He was not particularly sleepy, but he was tired of listening to Dunwythie.
He had long since acquitted his lordship of evil intent, because it was plain that he was just a man who preferred peace to the sort of discomfort Phaeline could create for him if he displeased her. The woman had only to moan and put a hand on her belly for the poor hen-hearted man to leap up and do her bidding.
Hugh could understand Dunwythie’s longing for a son. Most men wanted sons. But to wait fifteen years and do nothing in the meantime to secure the well-being of his estates and his people was dangerously irresponsible.
Realizing that he had done much the same by failing to insist that Reid learn to run Thornhill, he could say no more to Dunwythie on that subject. Mayhap the man would teach his daughters what they needed to know. Mairi, at least, seemed capable and would doubtless learn quickly. The mischievous Fiona was another matter, but might well improve with age.
As soon as he could decently excuse himself after supper, he went to his bedchamber. There, he found Lucas tidying the room and sorting his clothing. A large tub full of steaming water sat beside the small fireplace.
“That tub looks inviting,” Hugh said, beginning to strip off his jacket.
“I did ’ear we’d be going to Kirkcudbr
ight by galley, so I knew ye’d be glad of a bath. I’m thinking though that ye mightn’t want to take all your gear.”
“You were right about the bath but wrong about the gear,” Hugh said as he unlaced his shirt. “We’ll take it all. I mean to return straight to Thornhill from Kirkcudbright. I have already been away from the place too long.”
“Aye, sir, and my lady?”
“So you’ve heard about that, too, have you?”
Kneeling to pull off Hugh’s boots, Lucas said casually, “Being as I were present for the wedding, as ye might say…”
“Don’t play the fool with me. I know you’ve learned she is to go with us and doubtless that I have declared she’ll remain my wife unless she wills it otherwise.”
“Aye, sure, and wise I thought ye, too, sir—although I ken fine that ye’d sworn ye’d never marry again,” he added gently.
“Too late to think about that now,” Hugh said. “Just see to it that our horses get safely back to Thornhill and our baggage gets aboard the right galley. Oh, and you’d better see if her ladyship has orders for you, as well.”
“What about a maid for her ladyship, sir? Happen she’ll want one.”
“Go and ask her as soon as we have finished washing my hair,” Hugh advised, wondering what Jenny would think of his sending Lucas to her.
When the man had gone, Hugh finished his bath and dried his hair by the fire. Although it was early for bed, he decided he could use a good night’s sleep.
He had scarcely settled in, however, when a rap on his door roused him.
Certain that it must be Lucas returning with men to carry away the tub, he growled, “Come in then!”
But when the door opened, Jenny stood on the threshold with a candle in her hand, her unplaited hair hanging in soft waves to her hips. “Oh,” she said. “I did not think… That is I thought you would still be up. I… I should not have come.”
Hugh sat up, recalled his nudity, and forced calm into his voice as he said, “I can pull my breeks back on and be up again in a trice, lass. Don’t run away.”
In truth, one part of him was already up. It had leapt to attention the moment he saw her. She turned her back, making him fear she would leave, so he grabbed his breeks and yanked them on, imperiling the most wakeful part of him as he jerked the lacing tight.
“Come in, Jenny,” he said as he tied off the laces. “What is it, lass? I sent Lucas to you. Did you forget something you wanted to tell him?”
“Nay, he went off to get his supper. But my room is cold and lonely, and I knew you must still be angry with me, so I thought… I guess I want to apologize.”
Since she still stood on the threshold, he went to her and urged her inside with a hand to a shoulder, nudging the door shut behind them with his foot.
She wore only a loose lavender robe and slippers, and she smelled of roses, his favorite perfume. It was the first time he had seen her hair unplaited. It hung in long waves, and where his hand still touched her, it felt silky soft and a bit damp.
“You washed your hair,” he said.
“I washed all of me,” she said. Then, catching sight of the water-filled tub, she added, “You must have, too. It smells of musk and cloves in here.”
Unnaturally aware of his hand on her right shoulder, he warned himself that he ought not to be touching her at all before he sorted out why she had come. But when she turned toward him and stood there, looking trustfully up at him, he could not resist putting his other hand lightly on her left shoulder.
The lavender robe was soft, and her eyes, reflecting the light of her candle, looked more golden than ever.
He took the candle from her, set it on a nearby stand, and put his hand back on her shoulder. “Now,” he said, “why did you come to me?”
“I told you, I should apolo—”
“Lass, when I am angry, you won’t just suspect it. You will know it.”
“But you were,” she insisted.
“Aye, but not with you. I should have said when I’m angry with you, you will know it. I am not one who conceals true anger when I feel it.”
“You were hiding it today. I could tell.”
“Could you? I was angry that they had treated you so unfairly. I saw your father’s will, and it makes his wishes clear. If Dunwythie read only far enough to learn he’d named him your guardian, I suspect he wanted to know no more, lest it make difficulties for him. That amounts to cowardice and did make me angry, but I hid it for the same reason I warned you not to display your feelings to them.”
“So as not to give them the satisfaction of knowing they had angered us.”
“Aye, and you did well, lass. But I was talking of more personal things a moment ago. You need not hide your anger with me—if ever I should stir it,” he added with a teasing smile. Then, more seriously, he said, “You should also know that I don’t always manage to control mine. Sometimes, it just leaps before I can.”
“Phaeline said you have a fearsome temper.”
“Aye, well, she should know. She has stirred it more than once.”
“Is that why you told me not to throw things?”
“Aye, and you should take that warning to heart,” he said. “But now that we have established that I’m not angry with you, is there aught else you want to say?”
“I expect Lucas told you that I don’t need a maidservant to go with us.”
“Not yet; I thought you were he coming back for the tub. Art sure you don’t want someone? There are unlikely to be other women aboard the ship.”
“I don’t have my own servants here from Easdale,” she said. “And I don’t want anyone from Annan House.”
“Then you need not have anyone. Anything else?”
She hesitated, then looked him in the eye. “Phaeline told me that you swore you would never marry again, and today you declared me your wife because they made you angry. I… I just wanted to talk to you… to… But now I don’t know what to say. That is, I don’t know what you really want from me. Will you tell me?”
His fingers gripped her shoulders tighter. He had not been sure either at the time. But looking into her golden eyes, feeling her tremble as she waited for him to speak, and feeling his cock vote its prick’s worth, he knew exactly what he wanted.
“I rarely say aught that I don’t mean, Jenny, especially when I’m angry. I meant what I said to them. As far as I am concerned, we are husband and wife and will remain so unless you choose otherwise. Twice now, you have demanded that I act as your husband. Mayhap you should consider that demand more carefully.”
“And mayhap the third time will make it so,” she said. Then, with a hesitant smile, she added, “May I sleep here with you tonight?”
“I cannot think of anything I’d like better,” he said. “But you should know that if you do, I will act the husband in every way, lass, from now on.”
“Sakes, I already told them that you had,” she said. “Shall I undress?”
“Nay, I want to undress you. Then, if you are very good— and very quick—perhaps I will let you undress me.”
Chapter 16
Jenny thought she had sounded sure of herself when she asked if she should undress, and she stood silently now, hoping she looked as if this sort of thing were easy for her. But as Hugh reached for the sash of her robe, the back of his hand brushed the tip of her left breast, making her gasp.
His lips twitched as if he would smile, but he did not. If he had spoken the truth in saying he would show his feelings openly to her, his only intent now was to undress her. She trembled again, hoping he did not expect her to help.
The sash was swiftly gone, and he pushed her robe wider, revealing the narrow silk ribbons of her shift. A gentle tug, and the ribbons parted. The gathered top of her shift opened wide.
He put his hands on her shoulders again but only to push the fabric of both garments away as if they were one. Easing them off her shoulders and down her arms, he bared her torso and paused, caressing her breasts with hi
s gaze and making her tingle warmly inside, as if he had touched them. Then he did, with both hands, and her robe abandoned her shift and slid to the floor.
She was so soft, and when she gasped again, her breasts swelled to fit his palms. Hugh wanted to strip her where she stood and explore every silken inch of her with his hands and lips. However, being bare-chested himself and feeling the chill despite the flickering little fire on the hearth, he knew she would soon feel it, too, if she was not freezing already.
He was hungry for her though, and not ready yet to take her to his bed. He wanted to enjoy her for a while first, right where they were, and reveal some of the delights of her own body to her.
Briefly and with unexpectedly little emotion, his memory served up an image of his first time with Ella. How frightened she had been! So young, and tearful. He had been young, too, but sensible enough even in youth to know that moving slowly was good, and that being gentle was paramount.
He liked to savor his sexual experiences. But in truth, it had been long since one had meant anything to him other than the fulfillment of a basic instinct.
Jenny was not tearful or scared. He did not know what she thought, but he sensed that she was curious and receptive to whatever he might do. That thought stiffened his ever-interested cock until it pressed hard against the lacing of his breeks and began to throb and ache. He hoped it would wait upon his pleasure, and hers.
He thumbed a nipple, watching her eyes and her always-expressive face. She had been watching him soberly as he bared her breasts and studied them. But from the moment he’d touched their softness and she had gasped, she had looked only wide-eyed and perhaps a little wary. Her breathing was shallow and quick.
Easing her closer until they were breast to chest, he stroked her back and gently pushed her shift lower until it caught at the swell of her hips. Leaving it there, he shifted one hand to a bum cheek, gently squeezing it, certain that the skin there would be as softly silken as it was everywhere else, even softer than the fine cambric shift that still concealed her nether parts from him.