by Lynsay Sands
For instance, last night was the first time in her life that she'd slept in a bed rather than on a pallet on the floor, or the cold damp earth . . . and it had been heavenly. It was also the first time she'd slept in an actual bedchamber. Not a corner of the hut where there was room for her pallet, but a room that had actually been created for just the purpose of sleeping and nothing else. It was the first time she'd woken in the middle of the night to find anyone, especially a handsome, virile, naked man like Cam, picking her up out of bed and carrying her to a mound of furs on the floor where a picnic of wine, cheese and bread had waited. And it was definitely the first time she'd had a man injure himself for her honor.
Her gaze slid to the bloodstained bedsheet hanging over the upper hall railing. Cam had cut his hand and dripped the blood on the sheet as "proof of her innocence" last night after they'd finished the food and wine Kenna had fetched for them earlier. He'd then made love to her on the furs before the dying fire. Later he'd carried her to bed and made love to her again there.
It seemed to her they'd spent the better part of the night seeking pleasure, so when there had been a knock at their door in the morning, she'd merely moaned and tried to burrow back into the linens and furs. Cam had scooped her out of bed so that her aunt and uncle and the MacKay priest could collect the bloodstained sheet. Joan had been so exhausted, she'd fallen right back to sleep the moment they left and Cam set her back in bed between the upper linen and furs.
She'd woken up some time later to find him gone and the bed cold where he should have been. Joan had got up, dressed and come below to find only Lady Annabel at the trestle table waiting for her. She'd asked where Cam was and her aunt had explained he was down at the stables, saddling his mount. She'd then told her that he had decided they should leave today. Joan's heart had seemed to drop right out of her chest at this news. She'd thought she had time, both to get to know her new aunt and uncle and their children, and to learn at least a couple necessary lessons on how ladies behaved, before leaving.
She didn't though. They were leaving for Sinclair today . . . and she would meet Cam's family. The thought was a daunting one. The only thing keeping her from all-out panic in that moment was that her aunt and cousins would be with her. She hoped.
Chapter 10
"HOW FAR ARE WE FROM SINCLAIR NOW?"
Cam sighed at that question from Kenna. She had asked it at least twenty times since they'd set out from MacKay that morning. She had also chattered nonstop the entire way. The girl was driving him mad.
And how the devil had he ended up saddled with the MacKay women and a retinue of soldiers for this journey anyway? It was supposed to be just him and Joan on his horse. He'd planned a leisurely ride home, exchanging kisses with his new bride, mayhap sliding his hands inside her gown to enjoy her bounty. Perhaps even easing one up under her skirt to make her moan and whimper in his lap as they rode. He'd found that thought oddly arousing, though he'd never before had any desire to try such a thing on a horse. It was more likely to see them bounced off the beast's back than anything if he got Joan too excited and she began to writhe as she usually did when he touched her like that.
It hadn't mattered in the end though, because when Cam had gone to saddle his mount, Ross MacKay had come out to present him with the first of many gifts, a horse for Joan. She would not need to ride with him. Cam had quickly adjusted his fantasy to suggesting they stop in a pretty little valley he knew that was on their way home. He would feed her the food and drink that Lady Annabel had promised she'd have her cook prepare, and then he would ravish his lady wife in the woods. Perhaps he'd even ravish her twice before continuing on with their journey, he'd thought, marveling at the fact that after two weeks of repeated sexual escapades, he still couldn't get enough of the woman. If anything, he wanted her more and more.
That last fantasy had been scotched when he and Ross had returned to the keep to find out that Lady Annabel and her daughters intended to join him and Joan for the journey. They wanted to get to know Joan, they claimed, and were quite firm about it, but when Ross had begun to protest over their leaving, Lady Annabel had pulled him aside and whispered feverishly and at length about something that had eventually made the MacKay reluctantly give in. Cam had no idea what argument she'd used to sway her husband, but he'd caught the word promise several times and each time he'd seen the MacKay frown and slump a little more until he'd nodded in agreement.
Ross had then called Cam over and asked politely if his wife and daughters might accompany them home so that they could visit with Joan and get to know her. He would send men to guard them for the journey, and would collect them himself whenever Cam wished.
What could he say? Of course he'd agreed, and then he'd resigned himself to a half day's ride with the women chattering away, completely oblivious to the fact that they'd ruined his hopes for seducing his bride. He'd consoled himself with the reassurance that they would reach Sinclair just shortly after the nooning and then he could leave the MacKay women to visit with his mother while he dragged Joan away to show her a waterfall not far from the keep where he would then seduce her.
While he'd waited for the women to finish their packing, Cam had sat at the trestle tables, nursing a tankard of ale and thinking of all the things he wanted to do to Joan by the waterfall.
However, he'd eventually come to realize they were taking an inordinate amount of time about their packing. He'd understood why when the servants began to carry the chests down from above stairs. It had looked like they were moving in rather than visiting, until Lady Annabel had explained that some of the chests held wedding gifts for him and Joan. Linens and such, she'd said, smiling happily.
"I am sure 'tisn't much farther now," Joan said soothingly, making Cam realize he hadn't answered Kenna's question.
"She's right, 'tis just over this hill," Cam said now, his gaze dropping to the woman settled on his horse before him. Joan couldn't ride, of course. Something that hadn't occurred to him. Or to the MacKay, obviously. So he'd had to take her up on his horse before him after all. He hadn't minded in the least, until the first time she'd shifted before him, her little behind rubbing against his groin through their clothes. He knew she wasn't doing it on purpose, but the woman was killing him. Every time she moved, she rubbed against him, waking the beast under his plaid and making him harden, and it seemed to him that every time the beast under his plaid finally began to deflate, she'd shift once more, stirring him all over again.
"There it is," Lady Annabel said cheerfully, drawing Cam's attention away from his wife's behind and his aching erection, to the fact that they'd crested the hill and were now looking down on Sinclair Castle.
"Is it no' beautiful, Joan?" Kenna asked excitedly. "I ha'e ever thought it the prettiest castle."
Cam grimaced at the description. Only a female would call Sinclair beautiful and pretty. It was a damned masterpiece of fortification with an outer wall that was fifteen feet thick, was twenty-five feet high and had a wide dry moat before it filled with sharpened wooden posts to discourage getting too close. Inside that was the outer courtyard, separated from the castle itself by another moat, this one filled with water. Then came the gatehouse and towers to protect the first inner courtyard, and then the keep. There was a second inner courtyard behind the keep, of course.
Sinclair was large and a well-designed castle, but not a beautiful one to him.
"Aye, 'tis beautiful," Joan agreed in a dismayed whisper.
Cam glanced down curiously, wondering why she seemed to sound upset. Unfortunately, all he could see was the top of her head, so he couldn't be sure he hadn't misheard her.
" 'Tis big though, don't you think?" she added weakly.
Nope, he hadn't misheard. There was definitely dismay in her voice.
"Aye, big and beautiful," Kenna agreed as they rode down the side of the hill.
"Is something amiss?" Cam murmured by her ear.
Joan immediately straightened before him and shook her head. "Nay.
Of course not. Sinclair is lovely."
He winced at the description, but let the subject go for now and concentrated on negotiating the trail down the hillside.
Cam wasn't surprised when half a dozen warriors appeared on horseback, on the bridge at the outer wall. He had expected as much. Their party was big enough they would have been easily seen as they crested the hill. Well before that, probably, he thought as he glanced over his shoulder to the wagons and soldiers behind them. The riders would be sent out to see if they were friend or foe.
The riders waited until they started across the sixty foot area where the trees had been cleared away in front of the outer wall before starting forward. Cam continued forward, unconcerned. Not slowing until the two parties reached each other.
"Brother." His younger brother, Douglas, greeted him solemnly as he reined in before him. "Ye finally decided to wander home . . . and ye brought guests," he added, eyes narrowing on Joan where she sat in Cam's lap. Curiosity flickered briefly across his expression and then his attention turned to the other members of the party. His eyebrows rose and respect filled his face when his gaze landed on Lady Annabel. Giving a half bow in the saddle, Douglas murmured, "Lady MacKay."
"Good afternoon, Douglas," she greeted him with a smile.
"Is Laird MacKay here as well?" he asked, his gaze shifting over the soldiers accompanying them.
"Nay. He could not make it right away, but he will come to collect us in a week's time," Annabel answered.
"A week?" Douglas asked with surprise, his narrowed eyes shifting to Cam with what he suspected was displeasure lurking in their depths.
"They are my invited guests," he said simply, and not wholly honestly. He hadn't exactly invited his in-laws to come home with him, though he supposed he should have thought to do so. After all, they had just been introduced to Joan and would no doubt want to get acquainted with her. And she probably would want that too. He should have thought of it and arranged it himself. He also should have thought to ask MacKay to send a messenger ahead to warn his family that he would arrive soon and was bringing company with him so that rooms could be prepared. But with everything that had happened, Cam hadn't even considered it.
"I'll warn Mother to prepare for more guests," Douglas growled.
"More?" Cam asked, but his brother had already turned his horse and charged away with the other Sinclair warriors following. Frowning now, Cam urged his horse forward again, hoping to God that his mother didn't still have a castle full of women waiting to descend on him the moment he entered. Dear God, she couldn't have kept them there all summer, could she?
Knowing his mother as he did? Aye, she could have, Cam thought with a sigh.
Sinclair was huge and crammed full of people moving every which way, Joan noted, gawking about as they crossed the drawbridge into the outer courtyard. She wasn't the only one gawking. Every person in the courtyard seemed to pause and turn to stare at them as they rode past, and every set of eyes seemed to be settled on her, in Cam's lap. At least until they'd passed, then their curious gazes seemed to take note of Lady Annabel, her daughters and the MacKay soldiers and wagons that followed.
Uncomfortable under all those staring eyes, Joan was relieved to reach the bridge across the inner moat and ride under the gatehouse. At least until they came out in the inner courtyard and she noted almost as many people in this area, all of whom mimicked those in the outer courtyard and stopped to gawk at them as well.
"Chin up," Cam murmured by her ear. "Ye're Lady Sinclair now. These are yer people."
Joan raised her chin, and tried to look serene, but it was difficult when all she wanted to do was crawl inside Cam's plaid and hide. Especially when she noted the people spilling out of the keep and gathering on the steps. Her gaze was immediately drawn to a well-dressed couple on the top steps. The man had salt and pepper hair, at his side was a tall, long-necked woman of about Annabel's age, her blond hair sprinkled with gray.
"Your parents?" she asked under her breath.
"Aye."
Joan nodded and let her gaze drift over the other people on the stairs, most of whom were women. There were a couple of older women amongst them, but most were Joan's age or younger, and every single one was pretty. Cam had said he only had one sister and Joan guessed that she was amongst the people on the stairs, but suspected the rest were not his cousins. At least, not all of them, she thought, and she remembered Cam saying that his mother had filled the castle with unattached women, hoping he'd marry one of them.
His mother was about to be terribly disappointed, Joan thought on a small sigh as Cam stopped his mount at the foot of the steps and dismounted, then reached up to lift her down. When he then turned to aid, first, Lady Annabel, and then each of her daughters, Joan glanced to her mother-in-law's expressionless face again.
Aye, she'd be disappointed, Joan thought again, more grimly. How could she not be? Any one of the pretty women on the stairs would undoubtedly make a better wife to Cam than she would. No doubt they were all trained in whatever it was that made a woman a good wife to a noble laird. Certainly, they already had the manners and such mastered, while she did not.
"Courage," Annabel whispered once she was on the ground. She also slipped her arm around her waist and hugged her briefly to her side.
Joan managed a smile for her aunt, appreciating the supportive gesture.
" 'Twill be all right. Lady Sinclair is nice," Annella whispered encouragingly, appearing at her other side and taking her hand. "She will like ye."
"Shall we, ladies?" Cam murmured as he finished lifting Kenna off her mount and led her over to join them. He frowned briefly when he realized that there was no room for him beside Joan, then relaxed, shrugged slightly and ushered them up the stairs en masse.
"Annabel," Lady Sinclair said, moving down a couple steps to greet them. Her previously expressionless face broke into a smile of greeting that made her absolutely beautiful and much more approachable. "What a nice surprise."
" 'Tis lovely to see you again, Bearnas." Annabel smiled widely and retrieved her arm from around Joan's waist to take the hands Lady Sinclair held out and then hug her in greeting.
"And I, you," Bearnas Sinclair assured her and then as they stepped back from each other, she glanced to Cam and added, "Especially since ye brought me son home to me safe and sound. I was beginning to fear he'd been beset by bandits on the road."
"I was," Cam said, stepping up to hug his mother as Annabel moved sideways on the step to greet Laird Sinclair with a hug as well. It seemed the Sinclairs and MacKays were close friends, Joan thought.
"What?" Lady Sinclair pulled back from her son with alarm. "Are ye all right?"
"Aye, thanks to Joan," Cam assured her and then turned to hold his hand out to her as he added, "She saved me life. Twice. First taking out one o' me attackers fer me, and then watching o'er me while I lay unconscious and defenseless. She mended me, else I would no' be standing here now."
Forcing a nervous smile as she took his hand, Joan stepped up next to him.
"Well, 'tis definitely a pleasure to meet you then, dear," Lady Sinclair said solemnly, looking her over. "Joan, is it?"
"Aye, Mother," Cam said. "This is Laird and Lady MacKay's niece, Lady Joan Sinclair."
"Niece?" Lady Sinclair echoed and turned to Lady Annabel with surprise. "I did no' ken ye had--" She stopped suddenly and then turned slowly back to Joan and Cam, confusion clouding her eyes. "Joan Sinclair?"
"Aye. We were married at MacKay yesterday. She is me wife," Cam announced. A moment of silence passed where everyone seemed frozen, then one of the women on the stairs made an odd choking sound and apparently fainted. At least, the blond dropped and began to roll down the steps. Fortunately, a younger version of Cam, his brother Aiden, Joan guessed, moved to the side so that she rolled into his ankles and came to a halt.
"Thank you, son," Lady Sinclair said on a sigh as the young man bent to scoop up the unfortunate woman. "Please take Lady Murine inside."
Joan instinctively started to move toward them, ready to help the woman, but her aunt caught her arm and shook her head. "I shall tend her."
Nodding, Joan reluctantly relaxed and remained where she was, but she had to fight every instinct she had to do so.
"I would have thought you'd sent the possible brides home by now," Cam said dryly as he watched his brother carry the woman into the keep with Annabel on his heels. "I have been away all summer, after all."
"Aye, and I did," Lady Sinclair admitted on a sigh as the keep doors closed.
"And then she sent fer them again when Roderick and Bryson returned with the news that ye were on yer way home and should arrive in a couple days," Douglas announced, drawing Joan's gaze his way. The man was as grim as Cam had claimed. He was also dark haired like his father, rather than fair like his mother and two brothers. He then added dryly, "That was two weeks ago, by the by."
"Leave off, Douglas. Cam already said he was beset by bandits and needed nursing," Laird Sinclair admonished, speaking at last. Shifting his attention to Joan then, he stepped down and pulled her into an embrace, adding, "Thank ye fer saving me boy, lass. And welcome to the family."
"Thank you," Joan murmured, managing a real smile when he released her and stepped back.
Laird Sinclair glanced to his wife briefly and his lips quirked up at the edges as he took in her expression. Turning back to Joan, he added, "I ken me wife welcomes ye too, she's jest too stunned right now to speak. We were beginnin' to think the lad would ne'er marry again. Ye must be something special to ha'e tempted him back into that sacred state."