“The gypsy – Zara,” said Lance, stressing her name, “can sleep in any of the empty rooms she chooses. But you are my wife, and I don’t want anyone else in my bedchamber but you.”
“Aye, my lord,” said Coira, since she didn’t have a choice.
“The reason I was late to the wedding was that I wanted to clean up the surroundings of my new castle,” he explained. “It looked like a battle had taken place here, and everything was so disheveled.”
“Ye have no idea how right ye are.” Coira took a deep breath and released it, remembering when Aidan had come to this courtyard to help Effie and her escape. It was as if the stones in the walls of the castle could talk and she heard every voice from the past echoing in her head at once. She stopped and closed her eyes, willing the bad memories to leave her.
“Ah, I see you must be feeling the effects of the Mountain Magic as well,” said Lance. “Come, Coira, we will have something to eat and then we will retire early to the bedchamber.”
“The – the bedchamber?” asked Coira, looking over her shoulder for Zara for strength. Zara was talking with Lance’s squire, showing him which bags were hers and which ones were Coira’s.
“My lord, you’ve returned.” A man approached and bowed his head.
“Godfrey, this is my new wife, Coira,” said Lance.
“My lady.” Godfrey bowed to her as well. He was a tall man with blond hair, about the same age as her husband.
“Och, I’m no’ a lady,” said Coira, being taken by surprise.
“Aye, you are, now that you are married to me.” Lance reached up and tenderly caressed her cheek. Then he looked at his hand, lowered it and tried to wipe off the dirt on his tunic. “Godfrey is my steward,” he told Coira. “Godfrey, see to it that the meal is served anon. And I want a hot bath sent to my bedchamber afterward. I cannot take my new bride to the wedding bed while I am caked with dirt.”
“Or smelling like whisky,” mumbled Zara, walking past them with a canvas bag in her hands. Jack was right behind her, carrying Coira’s trunk that held some of her things as well as cloth and spices that were part of her dowry.
“I think I could use some ale,” Coira interrupted, not wanting her new husband to become angry with Zara.
“Aye. I think we all can use some.” Lance led her to the dais and pulled out the chair for her to sit. No one had ever done this for her before.
“Thank ye,” she said, looking up at Lance as she sat down. When his blue eyes met hers, she quickly looked away. How was she going to consummate the marriage when she couldn’t even look into his eyes? She wished she were anywhere other than Liddel Castle and, mayhap then, she’d have the courage she needed.
The food was served faster than she expected. The hall filled up with Lance’s men, servants, and even an occasional lady that was married to one of the knights. Coira spied Zara sitting at one of the long tables closest to the kitchen. She conversed with Jack and some of the others while she ate. Coira tried to get her attention, but she wasn’t looking in her direction.
“Is there something more interesting across the hall than there is right here?” Lance asked, making her jump in her seat.
“Nay, my lord.” She looked down to her trencher and pushed her food around with her spoon.
“Tell me about yourself, Coira.”
“Me?” She glanced up at him and then back over to Zara. She had a hard time talking to men in general. Now that she was married to a stranger, it only caused more anxiety. Why couldn’t she be brave and outgoing like her sister, Effie?
“What is it you’re afraid of? Is it me?” He brought the tankard up to his mouth to take a drink and perused her over the rim.
How could she tell him it wasn’t only him but so much more? She found herself tongue-tied, not wanting to talk about her past experiences at Liddel Castle. Instead, she decided to talk about him.
“I dinna ken ye, and yet we are married. Aye, that scares me . . . as well as other things, my lord.”
“Don’t be frightened.” His hand covered hers, sharing his warmth. When she quickly glanced up at him, she saw him smiling down at her. “I assure you, in time you will feel comfortable here.”
“I dinna think so.” Coira pulled her hand away from his and picked up her goblet to drink. She was afraid he was going to ask her more questions and wanted this night over with quickly. A man came into the great hall with several dogs following him. He was short and looked jolly. A smile covered his face.
“Ah, there’s my kennelgroom with my hounds.”
“Hounds?” She looked up to see half a dozen dogs enter the room, followed by a scraggly, brown dog that was smaller than the rest.
“Seth, bring my hounds to me, here at the dais,” commanded Lance.
“Aye, my lord.” The man brought the dogs to the table. The animals crowded around Lance, wagging their tails and whining.
“Here you are.” Lance took several hunks of meat from the tray, giving one to each dog. The hounds took their treasures and ran away to eat them. All of them left except for one smaller, brown dog that put its paws on Lance’s leg, looking up and sniffing the table. The hound had a stub of a tail, but it wagged back and forth excitedly. “Nay. Get down,” he said, swiping at the dog.
Coira loved animals of all kinds and didn’t like the way Lance treated this dog.
“Why do ye feed the other dogs and no’ this one?” she asked, reaching out and running her hand over the dog’s head to calm it.
“That is a stray dog. The thing is skinny and scraggly and look – it doesn’t even have a tail.” Lance scooped up some food and shoved it into his mouth. “I told Seth to get rid of it. I don’t know why it’s still here.”
“Get rid of it? Nay!” Coira pulled the dog over to her, bending down and kissing it on its head. “She is such a sweet pup.”
“She’s not a puppy, or at least I don’t believe so. She was found roaming the courtyard when I inherited this castle.”
“Why dinna ye take her in? One more dog willna make a difference.”
“Nay.” He picked up his tankard and took a drink. “She’s too small and no good for hunting. She’ll just be a hindrance. I’ll have Seth get rid of her since she is bothering you.” He raised his hand to call over his kennelgroom.
“Nay! I dinna want ye to get rid of the poor thing.” Coira pulled the dog closer to protect it.
“Coira, it’s just a stray hound.”
“Please, Lance. Dinna send it away.”
Lance drank in the sight of his new wife protecting the mangy mutt. They both looked so frightened that it about broke his heart. Coira was a beautiful girl. A Scottish lassie. Dressed in her Scottish plaid, he still didn’t feel as if any of this were real. He was married now. It all happened so quickly. She didn’t seem to like him much, or the idea of getting rid of the dog. It was important to him that she feel comfortable around him, so he would do whatever it took. He didn’t want his wife to fear him.
“So sorry, my lord,” said Seth, climbing the dais and reaching for the dog. “I’ll remove the pesky hound anon.”
“Nay,” said Lance with a wave of his hand. Coira looked up, still clinging tightly to the mutt. Hope as well as fear emanated from her.
“My lord?” asked Seth in confusion. “I thought you wanted me to remove the stray.”
“I’ve had a change of mind,” Lance told him. “The hound will be my wife’s dog from now on.”
“My lord?” Coira looked up with question in her beautiful, hazel eyes. “What are ye sayin’?”
“I’m saying that the hound is my wedding present to you, Coira. I can see how much you like the dog and I want you to have it.”
“Thank ye.” A smile lit up her beautiful face, her eyes going from the icy stare she gave him a minute ago to soft, multi-colored pools of sincere gratitude. He’d finally made her happy, and it was over a damned stray dog.
“What will you name it?” he asked, if for no other reason than to make c
onversation with his new wife. He liked the sound of her sweet voice and her cute, little Scottish burr.
“I dinna ken yet,” she said, petting the dog as it licked her face. She giggled. The sound of her laugh made him happy.
They finished the meal. When he was tired of the dog getting more attention from Coira than he was getting, he raised his drinking vessel in the air. “A toast to my new wife, Coira,” he said. A cheer went up from the crowd as they all drank to the marriage.
“Minstrels, start up the music,” he called out, taking Coira by the hand and helping her out of her chair. “You will dance with me,” he said, hurrying down to the middle of the floor and taking her with him. The dog ran after them, barking and jumping.
“My lord, I dinna think I want to dance.”
“Nonsense,” he said, holding her arm and walking her around the floor, letting everyone get a good look at his new Scottish bride.
“I dinna ken the dance of the English.”
“There is nothing to it. Just follow my lead.” They danced for a short while, but he could see that Coira was a shy girl and didn’t like everyone watching her. He decided it would be best to let her get used to her new surroundings slowly instead. “That is enough,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the corridor.
“Where are we goin’?” she asked.
“It is time to take you to the marriage bed.” As he led her to his solar, he couldn’t help but notice the fear in her eyes return.
Chapter 5
“Zara, help me.” Coira mouthed the words silently as Lance all but dragged her out of the great hall. Zara saw her from across the room and hurried after them.
“My lord, my lord,” Zara called out.
Lance stopped and turned, dropping Coira’s arm in the process. “What is it?”
“I wanted to know if I can help prepare Coira for the consummation?”
“Prepare her?” he asked, making a face. “Nay. I’ll take care of that.” He took Coira’s arm again and started to walk.
“I’m sure you’ll want to ready yourself, bathing to remove all that dirt,” Zara added.
Lance stopped at the solar door and turned around. “Aye, I suppose that’s a good idea. Take my wife to the adjoining solar and bring her back in ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes?” Coira suddenly felt like that wasn’t enough time to get her mind settled and prepared for her wedding night.
“All right, make it fifteen, but I’ll wait no longer.” He disappeared into the solar and closed the door.
“Zara!” Coira’s heart raced. “What am I goin’ to do?”
“You are going to prepare yourself to consummate your marriage to your new husband. Now, come with me. I can see you are far from being ready.” Zara pulled her into the room next to the solar, lighting a candle and closing the door.
“I canna possibly go to bed with him.” Coira clutched her neckline. “I dinna even ken the man. How can I be . . . intimate with him?”
“You’ve got to push your fear aside and find a way to relax, Coira. If you don’t, your experience is going to be far from pleasurable.”
“Will it hurt?” she asked, thinking about the pain and suffering she’d endured while hanging in a cage at this same castle six years earlier.
“Not unless you fight it.”
There was a scratching noise at the door and then the sound of whining. Coira crossed the room and opened the door. The little, brown dog lunged at her, surprising her and knocking her to the rushes.
“What’s that dog doing here?” asked Zara.
“It’s all right, Zara.” Coira sat in the rushes, laughing and petting the dog as it continued to lick her face. “This is my weddin’ present from Lance.”
“Hrmph,” Zara scoffed, putting her hands on her waist. “It looks like the kind of present he’d give you. I’m not so certain Sir Lance is the type that will give you romance, so don’t expect to find that in this marriage.”
“I’m no’ expectin’ it, Zara. All I want is a man who treats me kindly and doesna hurt me or put me in a cage.”
“Coira, that happened a long time ago. Lance isn’t going to put you in a cage. He is your husband! Get that foolish idea out of your head right now.”
“I suppose ye’re right, Zara. I just never got over that awful experience.” Coira continued to pet the dog.
“You’ve been through a tough time,” said Zara, resting her hand on Coira’s shoulder. “But it is time to put those memories behind you now. Tonight is your wedding night, and you need to concentrate on naught else but your time alone with your new husband.”
“Do ye think it will be enjoyable?” asked Coira, standing up and brushing the rushes off her plaid.
“Coira, you will never know unless you go to the solar. Now, Lord Lance is expecting you, so do not disappoint him. Let’s freshen you up a bit and send you on your way.
* * *
Lance dunked below the water and came up, smoothing back his wet hair. He’d scrubbed all the dirt from his body and wanted to look and smell his best on his wedding night. He felt bad he hadn’t presented himself in the best manner to his new bride, but he worked hard at cleaning up the castle and surroundings thinking she would be happy. Oddly, it made her seem fearful instead.
There was a quick knock at the door, and his squire walked in carrying the extra towels he requested.
“I have plenty of towels,” said Jack entering the room and leaving the door open. His arms were loaded down with towels, and in one hand he held a basket.
“Egads, I asked for an extra towel only,” said Lance. “That’s enough for the entire garrison.”
“I didn’t know what you’d be doing with Lady Coira, and wanted to make sure you had what you needed.” He put the towels stacked up on a chair and held out a basket to show him what else he’d brought. “I have wine and cheese and bread. And rose petals, too.”
“Rose petals? Whatever for?” He stood up and leaned over the tub for a towel, using it to dry his hair.
“For romance,” said Jack, with a dreamy look in his eyes and a silly grin on his face.
“Romance? We’re married. Why do I need romance?”
Jack frowned and his brows dipped. “Don’t you want her to like you, my lord?”
“I’m her husband. Of course, she’ll like me.” He stepped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around his waist. “Won’t she?” Suddenly, he had his doubts. That bothered him. Coira did seem a little standoffish. Perhaps he should listen to his squire after all.
“I can’t vouch for that.” Jack put the basket on the table. “After all, she is a Scot.”
“Aye. So?”
“An enemy.”
“We’ve made an alliance. We’re not enemies anymore.”
“I hope she thinks so.” Jack went over to the bed and turned down the covers.
“Hello?” came a small voice from the door.
Lance spun on his heel to see Coira standing in the doorway with the old gypsy right behind her. She was dressed in a white nightshift and had bare feet. The gypsy held Coira’s clothes in her arms.
“Coira,” said Lance, suddenly feeling a little nervous. He stood there in only a towel while she wore naught but a thin night-rail.
“Well, go on in, or were you planning on consummating the marriage right out here in the corridor?” Zara pushed her gently by the shoulder. Entering the room after her, Zara hung Coira’s clothes on a hook by the door.
“Aye, come in,” Lance said, moving so fast his towel became loose. Coira gasped and covered her eyes with her hand. Lance quickly tied the towel.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?” asked Jack.
“Nay. Leave us. You, too, Zara.”
“Aye, my lord.” Jack left the room with Zara. But before he could close the door, Coira’s hound ran in and started barking.
“Get that thing out of here,” growled Lance.
“Aye, my lord.” Jack tried to catch it, b
ut it ran to the other side of the tub.
“Nay, leave it. Please,” begged Coira.
“You want her to like you,” Jack whispered from behind his hand.
Lance let out a sigh. “Fine, leave the dog but everyone else out!”
Coira stood frozen to the spot, unable to move. The thud of the door closing behind her only made her heart race faster. She was all alone with her new husband who was standing in front of her in just a towel.
“Come here, Wife.” He moved toward her slowly with his eyes fastened to her. With every step he took toward her, she took a backward step away from him. “Coira, this isn’t going to work if you keep moving away from me.”
“I – I ken. I’m sorry.”
“Why are you so frightened of me? Have I done something to scare you? Or perhaps hurt you?”
“Nay,” she shook her head, trying to shake away her fear as well. “Ye havena, my lord.”
“Lance.”
“My lord?” she looked up in question, still clutching the neckline of her night clothes.
“We are married now, Coira. When we are together in private, you can call me by my Christian name. It’s Lance.”
“Aye, of course, my lord. Lance,” she said quickly correcting herself. Why was this so hard to do?
The dog ran up to her, jumping and putting its paws on her. She smiled and reached down with both hands to pet it.
“If only you would accept me with the same excitement as you do the dog.” He headed across the room to stoke the fire. Coira watched as he bent over, his towel riding up his long legs. His half-naked presence had her heart fluttering. The glow of the firelight illuminated his broad shoulders and large biceps. He had shoulder-length, dark hair that almost looked black now that it was wet.
She slowly took a step toward him, drinking in his physique. Never had she seen such manly beauty. Just as she approached him, he threw down the poker and turned around, catching her perusing him.
“So, you are interested after all, even if you pretend not to be.”
A Warrior's Heart Page 30