by K. E. Saxon
Bao chuckled. “Remember you, I have a sister?”
He saw her mouth turn up in a smile and his heart answered.
“But her hair is so short, ‘tis not the same thing at all,” she said.
“Ah, but until just before I made myself known to Daniel last summer, she’d had hair longer than yours. It was down past her knees and in a constant tangle, it seemed. No doubt because she has always been so active, and so opposed to covering her head!”
Bao tipped Jesslyn’s head forward a bit and lifted the hair he held in his hand, then brought the brush up from the back of her neck and down through the long strands.
“You may do this every eve, if you wish,” she said.
“You would like that, then?” Bao asked.
“Aye, very much.”
“Then, aye, I wish.” Good. And with any luck at all, that would be her reaction to every liberty she allowed him.
* * *
“You are not truly going to do my sewing for me today?” Jesslyn asked the next morning.
Bao grinned at her and gave her a light peck on the nose. “Aye, I am.” He turned and looked around the chamber. “Now, where is your kit?”
She swallowed a sigh of pure lust and blinked away what she knew must be stardust twinkling in her eyes and walked over to her chest. She took out the small basket and held it out to him.
He took it and saluted her, then walked toward the door, saying, “This should be fodder for Daniel’s black sense of humor for many annals!”
After he exited the chamber, she giggled and whirled around to gaze out the window. She’d had one of the best night’s sleep she’d had in many moons last eve, after her husband’s sensual hair brushing, followed by the heavy weight of his arm over her, the warm heat of his body at her back while she slept. ‘Twas heaven.
And this morn, after she’d mentioned how little she liked sewing, how she’d prick her fingers and bleed all over the linen, Bao had actually offered to do it for her!
If he continued in this manner, she had little doubt that her niggling doubts about his character would flee to the four corners of the earth. And then they could take this marriage up in truth.
Lord knew, her body was more than ready for that to happen. She’d nearly climbed on top of him last eve when she saw his reaction to her.
Nearly.
* * *
“I’ve spoken to the clan elders and they’ve agreed to consider my suggestion that you be named chieftain of clan Maclean in my stead,” Daniel told Bao several days later as they sat by the hearth in the great hall having a tankard of some of Jesslyn’s ale.
Bao gave his brother a sharp look. “I have no desire for that title, so you may as well go back to them and withdraw the proposition.”
“Ah, but you see, neither do I,” Daniel replied. “I only accepted the lairdship as a two-year contract while they searched for a replacement for Callum.”
Bao cocked his head in confusion. “Callum was laird here?”
“Aye, but he was much too immature for such responsibility at the time and the elders lost confidence in him.”
“What happened?” Bao asked.
Daniel sighed. “He was lax in his government of the keep and the people who support it. The elders were becoming more and more dismayed with him as time went by, but the final blow came when Maryn stole the Maclean horses out of the keep.”
“Which she did because the horse marshal wasn’t taking care of the poor beasts,” Bao said. “Aye, I remember hearing the tale last summer after the man attempted to kill Maryn.”
“Thank God we were able to find her in time,” Daniel said grimly.
Bao nodded. After a moment, he asked, “So how did they come to ask you to be chieftain?”
Daniel shrugged. “I was the most likely choice.” He gave his brother an uncompromising look. “At the time.”
“But, if you don’t desire the title, as you just told me, why did you agree to accept it—even for a short time?”
Daniel’s right brow lifted and lowered. “Firstly, because I—and my clan—were guaranteed a significant percentage of the Maclean shipping interests.” A sheepish grin spread over his countenance as he continued, “But, most enticingly, because Maryn was offered as part of the package. She was an irresistible lure, which I found I couldn’t possibly refuse.”
“Maryn was part of the contract?”
“Aye,” Daniel replied, “You see, Callum wanted to wed Maryn but her father had refused to consider it. Our cousin used the horse theft as an excuse to blackmail Laird Donald into agreeing to the match. He threatened a clan war otherwise.”
“I’m confused. I thought you said he was ousted after the horse theft.”
Daniel shook his head. “Nay, not directly after. It wasn’t until he began the blackmail scheme and got both clans in a froth that the elders began to seriously discuss replacing him,” Daniel said. “And Laird Donald, being the great mediator, ultimately came up with the plan to offer the lairdship for a short time, along with his daughter, for a lifetime—as a blood tie between the two clans. A combination I found extremely appealing.”
Bao looked at him shrewdly. “And now, you believe you’ve found the perfect replacement. Are you that anxious to return to the MacLaurin holding, then?”
Daniel’s gaze turned wistful as he looked into the distance. “Aye, I am. I miss my people, my land, my fortress. I built it up from the rubble our father left behind into a stronghold that, I hope, is impossible to breach.” He turned and faced Bao. “I want to go home.”
“How can I refuse you, then? I will need to buy out my contract with the king and find lodgers for my cottage in Perth, but if the elders agree to it, I shall become the new laird and chieftain to the Macleans.”
* * *
A sennight later, Jesslyn sat with the rest of the family in the great hall enjoying a traveling band of players. Holly decorated the hall, and mistletoe hung above every doorway. The Yule log lay next to the hearth, waiting to be placed on the fire later. For this day they celebrated the Yule, and the air was filled with all kinds of scents. There were scents of sweet confections, scents of meat roasting on the spit, woodsy scents from the pine log, mistletoe and holly. Jesslyn could even smell the snow. It combined with the sweet lad-smell of her son’s hair and she pressed her nose to his warm flaxen pate to breathe in more of it.
“Will th’ minstrels get to eat some of the Yule feast, Mama?” Alleck asked her in a loud whisper, his eyes never leaving the dancer’s feet.
“Aye, I’m sure they will,” she replied. She pulled him higher up onto her lap using the arm she had curled over his stomach. He’d been fidgeting so much that he’d nearly slid off of his perch.
“Here, let me take him,” Bao said. And in a trice, Alleck was straddled over Bao’s knee.
Jesslyn caught Bao’s eye and smiled her thanks.
He smiled back, holding her gaze captive a moment before turning back to watch the minstrels’ performance.
She was profoundly aware of him physically; she found she always was whenever he was near. And his gentle manner was wearing down her resolve to wait a bit longer, mind his character a bit more, before committing her body and heart to him.
But the fact that he’d sewn swaddling clothes for their babe in her stead every day had tipped the scales in his favor. Especially with his brother’s good-natured tormenting added in.
And surprisingly, he was good with a needle, certainly better than she was herself. In fact, Maryn and Lady Maclean were so impressed with his handiwork that they’d asked him if he’d make a few shirts for the babe as well. Jesslyn swallowed a giggle, but it turned into a snort, which she quickly shaped into a sound of clearing her throat. She coughed into her hand for good measure.
Bao turned around and grabbed a chalice of water from the table and handed it to her. “Are you chilled? I’ll get your cloak from our chamber, if you’d like.”
Shaking her head, she replied, “Nay, I�
��m quite warm.” After swallowing down several mouthfuls, she said, “My throat was a bit dry. The water has helped. My thanks.”
Taking the cup from her hands, Bao placed it back on the table behind him before settling his eyes on her countenance once more. “You look a bit flushed. Are you sure you’re feeling well enough to join the feast?”
She tensed. Was this the third or fourth time he’d asked that same question? This excessive solicitude was scraping against her nerves. “I’m well! I promise you!” Lord!
“Aye,” he replied, and she pressed her lips together to keep the smile from forming, for she could see that he literally bit his tongue to keep from arguing with her.
Except it irritated her too. He hadn’t shown an ounce of peeve since he’d come to her bed all those nights ago and begged her forgiveness. She crossed her arms over her chest and stewed. The man must be a saint. She’d been goading him for days now and he’d still not lost his temper with her. She supposed she was simply going to have to admit that he’d passed this trial as well.
And he was slowly driving her mad with his oh-so-innocent requests that still managed to make her burn for him. Like the last one. As he’d removed her shoes, he’d asked her to remove her hose as well. And then he’d not only massaged her feet, he’d bathed them! In the most luxuriously warm, scented water she’d ever been fortunate enough to enjoy. And it had made her wish he’d asked for all her clothing, so that he could minister to her entire body with as much utter care as he gave her feet. Her mouth grew dry at the thought. She turned and grasped the chalice of water once more, bringing it to her parched lips.
As she drank, her husband, whom she’d felt watching her as she picked up the chalice, leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be back in a moment. I’m going to take Alleck to sit with Daniel and Branwenn for a while.”
She nodded. “He’ll like that.” She watched Bao move through the throng, carrying Alleck on his shoulders, which greatly amused her son. Alleck had wrapped his arms around Bao’s forehead and Bao held her son’s upper arms to keep him steady. And those massive hands of Bao’s, which had been playing such havoc with her senses, now seemed quite safe as they cradled her son.
* * *
“I need to take Jesslyn up to our chamber,” Bao said to Daniel after handing Alleck over to Branwenn. “She’s not well, I fear.” He cocked his head in his wife’s direction. “See you how flushed her face has become?”
Daniel nodded, a frown furrowing his brow. “Aye. And her eyes are a bit glassy, as well. Think you she has a fever?”
“Aye, but she’s been so contrary lately that I didn’t want to upset her further by feeling her forehead.”
“Take her up to your chamber and I’ll meet you there in half an hour with my healer’s box,” Daniel said. He put his hand on Bao’s shoulder. “Calm yourself. She may simply be feeling the effects of her condition. And the closeness of the hall now that ‘tis filled with this crush of people doesn’t help, I’m sure. Maryn went up to our chamber not an hour past with that same complaint.”
Bao nodded briefly and turned, striding back to Jesslyn’s side. “You need to lie down,” he said, and before she could protest, he lifted her into his arms and carried her toward the doorway of the great hall.
* * *
Having grown dizzy in Bao’s absence, she made no complaint, simply rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She was just so weary, and her head ached a bit as well.
With long strides, her husband cut across the antechamber outside the great hall and took the stairs two at a time to their third-level bedchamber. He flung the door open and then kicked it closed behind him, not stopping his forward motion until he was at the bedside. His voice was gentle when he said, “Will you be able to get out of this gown on your own?”
Jesslyn’s stomach roiled. All she wanted to do was be very, very still so she didn’t lose her meal. “Nay,” she whispered.
“Do you think you can stand a moment while I do it then?”
She swallowed hard against the bile that threatened to rise from her stomach and gave her head a slight shake. “Mmm-mmm.” She was afraid to open her mouth, lest she should spew.
“All right. I’ll just lay you down on the bed and see if I can loosen the laces of this tight gown enough to pull it off of you.”
Jesslyn nodded, rubbing her cheek against his muscled chest. She hadn’t opened her eyes since he’d lifted her into his arms downstairs. It helped to keep the room from spinning.
After placing her on the bed, his quick and nimble fingers loosed the laces on the side of her gown and stripped them from their holes. The fabric gaped open enough to work it off of her with minimum effort on her part.
“I’m hot.”
* * *
Bao felt her forehead. ‘Twas warm, but not hot, as he’d feared. Mayhap she’d just become overheated downstairs, as Daniel had suggested. He prayed so. He walked over to the table that held a pitcher and basin for cleansing. After pouring water into the bowl, he tossed one of the cloths that lay folded next to the pitcher into the cool liquid and brought the basin over to the bedside. He wrung out the cloth and used it to cool her, blowing on each section of skin after he’d dampened it with the cloth. He couldn’t help noticing the changes in her, now that he was able to see her shape more clearly. The thin material of her chemise clung to her body like a second skin. He could see the aureoles of her breasts, darker now than they had been, through the material. And her bosom was even more full, more rounded, now that she carried a babe. God, how he craved to lose himself in them, in her, once more. He doused the cloth again and wrung it out before skimming it over her arms, down to her hands. His eyes dropped to her belly. ‘Twas rounded now, her childing state obvious. Through the clinging fabric, he could see the outline of her thighs, and at its apex, the mons of her sex. His goddess. His fertile goddess. His fertile, flushed, goddess. He prayed she hadn’t caught a fever.
* * *
“That feels good,” Jesslyn said blissfully. She opened her eyes and, for the first time, realized the depth of worry Bao was feeling for her when she saw the white line of tension around his mouth. She lifted her hand to his jaw to draw his eyes to her face. “I’m feeling much better now.” She dropped her hand to her stomach and continued, “And, thankfully, my stomach no longer churns. I suppose I’m just a bit more sensitive to the heat these days.”
“I hope you’re right,” Bao replied. “But, just to be certain, Daniel will be here in a few moments to check on you.”
Jesslyn tried to sit up, but found she was still too dizzy. “Hand me my gown! Make haste!”
“Nay. You need your rest.”
“Are you daft? I’m not going to lie here half-dressed with Daniel in the chamber! Now, hand me my gown!”
“I shall cover you with a blanket. Will that suffice?”
Realizing she’d lost the battle since she didn’t have enough strength to put the gown back on by herself, Jesslyn sighed in frustration and nodded her head.
“That’s a good lass,” Bao said. Picking up the basin, he took it back over to the table.
While Bao’s back was turned, Jesslyn made a face at him. “That’s a good lass,” she mimicked under her breath.
* * *
The Yule celebration came and went without Jesslyn ever leaving her chamber. Under orders from Daniel, and subsequently Bao, she was confined to her bed for two days. Daniel had forced her to drink an awful-tasting herbal concoction the past morn after Bao had brought her up from the great hall. But it had mostly been a precautionary measure, since she hadn’t been running a fever. And now, she was restless and bored. The celebration ended an hour or two past and she was a bit annoyed that not even her son had come to see her.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door flew open. “Oh, ‘tis you,” she said petulantly, crossing her arms over her chest.
Her husband grinned and put his hand over his heart. “Ah, my beautiful, sweet-temper
ed bride, I’m glad to see you, too.”
“My! How merry we are this eve. I suppose you’ve been nipping into the uisge beatha?” Jesslyn didn’t know why she felt so compelled to spew venom at her almost-husband, but something about his ability to withstand her worst moods without losing his temper—especially after she’d been subjected to the darker side of his character for two sennights—just set her blood to boiling.
“Nay, my sweet, not uisge beatha, but your delectable berry tarts.”
She uncrossed her arms. “Oh,” she said less forcefully. Picking at a loose thread on the blanket that covered her legs, she said, “I suppose the whole family was downstairs earlier, enjoying the minstrels and the feast.” She gave a wistful sigh. Her eyes filled with tears. “I’ll bet no one even considered bringing some up to me!” she wailed.
Bao rushed over to the bed and sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms. “Shhshh. Of course we wanted to bring some of the fare up to you, but we worried we’d wake you. You’ve been sleeping so much these past two days, Daniel and I thought it best to let you rest.”
She sniffled. Then sniffled again. Her voice thick, she said, “I’m lon”—hic!—“nely...y...y!” Pushing out of Bao’s embrace, she railed, “And ‘tis all your fault!”
Bao’s eyes grew stormy and a tick started in his cheek. “My fault? Why, pray, is it my fault?”
“Because you forced me to stay up here the past two days, even after you knew I hadn’t caught a fever!”
* * *
Bao took a deep breath. And then another. And then one more. His grandmother had explained to him that Jesslyn’s moodiness was due to her condition and that the best thing to do was to appease her. “Forgive me, sweet. I see now that I am fully to blame, as you said.”
She stopped crying for a moment and gazed at him through the tears that still puddled in her eyes, a look of shock on her face. “Nay, ‘tis me! I’m to blame, ‘tis my fault!”
Bao watched in alarm as her face scrunched up and the tears poured forth once more. But, if he’d learned naught else about women in all his years on this earth, he knew this: Never agree with any negative statement a woman makes about herself. Never. Ever. “Nay, ‘twas my fault. I was wrong to leave you up here all by yourself for so many hours.”