Now it was Conn’s turn to flush, and then he laughed softly at himself. “I can see having a wife will involve getting used to many things. No woman has ever spoken to me of the necessary before.”
Aidan began to see the humor in their situation. “I think this will not be the last time I mention it to ye on our long journey. Though I strive for delicacy of speech, my lord, I know not how else to word it.”
“I, too, shall strive for delicacy of manner, my lady. I shall await ye in the dayroom,” and giving her a bow and a mischievous wink he withdrew.
When Aidan entered the dayroom several minutes later she had bound her hair up into two thick braids which she had wound about her head.
“But I like yer hair loose,” he protested.
“I will wear it loose in the privacy of our home, but I cannot travel with it that way, or wear it so in public. It is not seemly now that I am a matron.”
“Do ye always behave according to convention, Aidan?”
“Yes, my lord, I do.”
Moving to face her he locked her eyes with his, and pulled the pins from her hair in a slow and deliberate manner. “I do not behave according to convention,
wife
,” he said, and his look dared her to challenge him as he ran his fingers through her tresses to loosen the braids.
The green eyes staring into her face mesmerized her, and as had happened the other day Aidan found herself forgetting to breathe again. The touch of his fingers was sending little shivers through her. Why, her numbed brain demanded, why could he have this effect upon her? Then she grew dizzy, and gasping gulped several breaths of air into her lungs.
If Conn noticed her peculiar behavior he said nothing. Instead he fastened the gold frog closings upon her cape, and drew her hood up over her hair. “There, no one will know of yer wanton behavior in leaving yer hair unbound, and I shall be able to enjoy the sight of it as we ride along. Do ye have yer gloves, madame? The dampness in the air makes it even colder than it is today.” Reaching down he took her bouquet from the table and handed it to her. Then taking her arm when she nodded, still speechless, he led her from the room and downstairs to where the coach awaited them.
The staff of Greenwood House had lined up to bid Conn a fond farewell for he had been living there since his arrival at court over two years ago. He had been an easy master to serve; a courteous man who always remembered to acknowledge a kindness, or a service well done. Although their lives would be simplified by his going, they would miss him, and Walters said as much. It was unfortunate that Master . . . rather Lord Bliss, was leaving them especially now that he had a wife. She was no beauty like Lady de Marisco, but they could see she was a modest and sweet-natured lady, just the sort of wife he should have.
Conn and Aidan were settled into Robin’s large, comfortable traveling coach. Bricks warmed and wrapped in flannel were placed at their feet, a fur lap robe was tucked about them, a small brass brazier of lit charcoals was placed upon the floor of the carriage. The coach was upholstered both on its seats and walls in padded dark green velvet. It even had glass in its windows, and small interior carriage lamps that could be lit if it grew dark while they were still traveling.
Walters stuck his head in a final time to be assured that they were well settled. “The back of the front seat pulls down, my lord. Behind it ye will find a hamper should ye grow hungry before ye reach yer destination. God go with ye!” Then pulling his head back he slammed the door to the coach shut, and ordered the driver forward.
Because of the time of year it had been decided that they would travel the entire day, each day, stopping only to change horses, the earl’s carriage animals having been taken ahead by his grooms to the various posting places. February weather could be treacherous, and under the best of conditions it was several days’ journey from London to
Pearroc Royal.
Then, too, it being winter, the days were short. The hamper, which could be replenished each day, would serve to feed them until they stopped each night. The coachman and his assistant up upon the box had also been supplied with a filled hamper for not only themselves, but the dozen outriders who accompanied them to protect them from highwaymen. The smaller baggage coach that followed them was equally provisioned. The servants would eat as the horses were being changed, but the lord and lady who traveled in such style could eat whenever they chose.
The journey would take them five days for
Pearroc Royal
was outside the town of Worcester several miles to the west toward the Welsh border. Being deepest winter the landscape was somewhat dull, the bare-limbed trees, black and spare, reaching out to the slate sky. It was very cold, and although the Thames was open to traffic, there were sheets of ice floating upon it, and the ponds and lakes they passed were for the most part frozen. As the day progressed they saw little sign of life except for smoke which came from the chimneys of the farms and other homes they passed, or perhaps a dog which would run yapping from some farmyard to chase snapping after the wheels of the coach as it passed by.
It wasn’t until late morning that having traveled a distance of ten miles they stopped to change horses at a large inn. Robin was already there ahead of them, and had ordered hot mulled wine. Aidan was delighted to have the opportunity to alight from the coach, and move about. In the few minutes that they allowed themselves one of the servants from the inn reheated their bricks in the fire and rewrapped them as well as putting fresh, burning charcoals in the brazier.
Climbing back into the coach she found that the wine had made her sleepy, and the motion of the carriage lulled her. Her eyes grew heavy, and she never remembered dropping off. When she awoke it was growing dark with late afternoon, and she found herself nestled against Conn, their heads touching against one another as he, too, dozed lightly. The coach was cold, and her feet were chilled, but where his arm was about her she felt warm, and contented, and so she stayed quiet. The light was fading, and the inky darkness that was fast descending hinted of snow. Then up ahead she could see the lights of a village, or an inn, and feeling the horses slowing she knew that they were approaching their lodging. She felt just the tiniest bit of disappointment for it had been pleasant lying here in the gloom against him.
Conn had been awake, and he had also been aware of when she had awakened, but realizing she thought him asleep he had stayed still for he was frankly enjoying their closeness. He knew that if he spoke she would feel bound to break the contact. Sleeping had relaxed Aidan, and he had had ample opportunity to study her features. She had lovely skin, and her features were pretty, but her forehead was high, and her nose just a shade too short. She had thick, stubby eyelashes of a sandy hue, and thin brows that arched over her eyes, the color of which he was still not yet able to determine. The dimple in her chin was not deep, but he detected a strong hint of firmness about that chin. He liked her mouth best of all her features. It was a generous mouth, wide, the lips full without being ugly, and it seemed to him, infinitely kissable.
He would kiss that mouth tonight, but remembering the last time he had done so he amended his thought. He would teach her how to kiss him tonight, and he smiled to himself. He somehow thought he would enjoy playing the schoolmaster. She didn’t dislike his kisses. Both on Twelfth Night, and two nights ago when they had met formally she had melted into his embrace. Then a thought occurred to him. Had she truly enjoyed his kisses, or had it simply been her inexperience, and she was indeed very inexperienced. He couldn’t imagine a girl reaching his wife’s age, and never having been kissed, or cuddled, but Aidan’s behavior convinced him that she was telling him the truth.
Tonight.
Tonight was their wedding night. For the first time in his life he had the legal right to bed a woman, and he didn’t know whether he should or not. Lack of familiarity or knowledge of his bedmate had certainly never prevented him from enjoying a woman before; but this was his wife. He was going to have to live with this woman until death parted them. It was a sobering thought. What did she know of marital relations? Surely her mother had instructed her, but then he remembered that her mother had died when she was still a child, and he doubted her father had gone into such matters with her. He had never had a maid before, not even his own first time when full of whiskey and randier than a young billygoat he had caught a milkmaid and tumbled her beneath a hedge. To his surprise she wasn’t the least bit shy, and had helped him to find his way egging him on with small cries of delight. Encouraged Conn had gone on to other women, and found that where lovemaking was concerned he had a definite talent.
On the mainland across from his island home of Innisfana he had caught the eye of an older woman, the widow of a nobleman, whose name was Peggy Brady. Peggy had taught him patience, and how a woman’s pleasure could only increase his own. She had shown him caresses and kisses that were daring and exciting, and when she had decided he had learned all she might teach him, she had dismissed him as if he were a schoolboy. He would always be grateful to Peggy, and particularly now. Another man might demand his rights from his bride, but Conn had already decided that he wanted Aidan to know him better, to feel comfortable with him, to perhaps even like him a little. Tonight he would tell her that; tell her that she need have no fears on his account.
Ahead he could see the lights of the inn where they would be staying tonight. Yawning, he stretched, and sitting up said, “Are ye awake, Aidan? We’ll be at the King’s Head in a few minutes.”
“I’m awake, my lord. I see that ye slept as little as I did last night. I am still tired.”
“Ye’ll feel better after a hot meal, lass,” he said.
“We never ate the food the Greenwood staff packed for us.”
“No matter,” he said. “It’s so cold it will keep until tomorrow.”
The coach drew into the inn yard of the King’s Head, and no sooner had it stopped than the innkeeper hurried out to open the door. “Welcome, m’lord, m’lady! We’ve kept yer rooms and a hot supper waiting!”
Conn sprang from the vehicle, and then turning he reached into the carriage and lifted Aidan down. Following the innkeeper inside they found they had been given two pleasant rooms, both with fireplaces, on the ground floor of the building. Mag and Cluny hurried in behind them, each anxious to help their master and mistress.
“Take the capes!” snapped Mag to Conn’s man.
“And who are ye to be giving me orders, Mrs. Mag?”
“Capes is the man’s job where there is a man for the job,” she answered him. “Boots is a man’s job too. ’Tis obvious ye don’t know yer duties.”
“Not know me duties?” Cluny was totally outraged. “I’ll have ye know, Mrs. Mag, that I’ve served his lordship for these last six years, and never a complaint from him!”
“How could he complain? He obviously knows no more than ye do.”
“Mag!” Aidan’s voice was slightly reproving, and she even surprised herself for Mag had raised her, and she had never found it necessary to seriously scold her tiring woman. “I do not want ye and Cluny quarreling. As body servants to my husband and myself ye must set an example for the rest of the servants at
Pearroc Royal.
When we arrive home I will set ye each yer duties, but in the meantime ye must settle it between ye.” Mag looked properly chastened, and she was suddenly aware that the child she had raised lovingly was now a woman. Aidan turned to Cluny. “There was no time for us to be introduced, Cluny, but judging from my husband’s elegant clothing ye must take fine care of him. Will ye take our capes, please. They are heavy, and Mag so little that they will weigh her down.”
Cluny shot Mag a look that plainly said, well at least yer lady has manners, and then bowing neatly he took first Aidan’s cloak and then Conn’s. “Thank ye, m’lady.”
“Put out my night things, Mag, and then go have some dinner.”
“Will ye be wanting a bath, m’lady?”
“Nay, not tonight.”
Mag curtsied, and went to do her mistress’ bidding while Cluny having hung the cloaks in the cabinet was also placing his master’s things out for the night. Neither servant would leave until the other was ready, and when they had left both Conn and Aidan looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Do ye think they’ll ever like each other?” Conn asked. “Yer Mag is a scrappy little terrier of a woman.”
“I don’t think yer Cluny is about to be bullied by her. She’s simply very protective of her duties and of me. She’ll get used to ye both soon enough.”
The innkeeper’s wife hurried in with two maidservants to lay the table, and begin serving the supper. Upon the sideboard a row of covered dishes and platters were set, and all exuded fragrant odors to various degrees. There were two decanters of wine, and two frosty pitchers, one filled with nut-brown ale, and the other with cider.
“We will serve ourselves,” Conn told the innkeeper’s wife, and the goodwife beamed and nodded as she backed from the room.
“Ye’ve quite enchanted her,” said Aidan. “She was quite speechless.”
“A strange effect I seem to have on some women,” he admitted. “Are ye hungry?”
“Aye! I’m always hungry, and Mag declares that I eat as much as a day laborer working in the fields which she tells me is not at all ladylike. I hope my appetite will not shock ye. I never seem to grow heavier despite my great lust for good food.”
“I don’t like a woman who picks at her plate,” he said. “Eat hearty for Robin will not be joining us tonight,” said Conn.
“Why not?”
“I believe he is making an attempt to be discreet. It is, after all, our wedding night.”
“Yes,” she said, and lifting the cover from one of the dishes exclaimed, “Quail! Oh, I do love quail!” and she helped herself to one of the small birds that had been roasted to a turn.
Conn smiled softly. She
wa
s nervous. “Serve me one of those quail, too, madame,” he answered her.