Victoria Roberts - [Bad Boys of the Highlands 03] (7 page)

Sybella shook her head. “My mother became ill before she had the chance. There was only Mary.”

A strange look passed over his features. “Mary?” When an unwelcome blush crept onto Sybella’s cheeks, he grabbed her hand. “I am your husband. Tell me. What
exactly
did Mary say to ye about such matters?”

“Obviously, she didnae tell me about any bleeding.”

He patiently listened while Sybella repeated most of what Mary instructed her.

“And the sheep?”

“As I already said, I am to remain perfectly still and close my eyes. When that
cluigean
goes in, I am to count sheep to ease the pain.”

Alexander glanced sideways, and she swore he laughed and then covered it quickly with a cough. What was the matter with the man? He’d asked what Mary said, and Sybella had spoken honestly. After all, that’s what he demanded.

“Nay worries. Is there anything else I can do for ye?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder.

She shook her head. The conversation had already gone too long. If this was any indication of how her day was going to go, she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to crawl back into bed and cower under the blankets.

He rose from the bed and kissed her on the top of the head. “Your bath will be here soon.”

Sybella watched Alexander walk through the adjoining door. Closing her eyes, she sat bent over with her face in her hands. Among other emotions was a deep sense of shame. How could she not know what was happening with her own body? And worse yet, she’d needed a
man
to explain it to her. Her pride had been seriously bruised.

There was a knock at her bedchamber door, and the men carried in a tub as well as steaming buckets of water. What a welcome sight. As soon as the door closed behind them, Sybella quickly disrobed and sank into the hot bath. She moaned aloud and did not care who heard her. The hot water felt so comforting against her skin. She swore she had only shut her eyes for a moment when there was another rap at the door.

“Sybella,
’
tis Mary.”

Sybella groaned but not because of the soothing water. “Come in.”

Mary walked into Sybella’s chamber and closed the door. She pulled out her skirts and sat on the edge of the bed, but not before she spotted the stained nightrail thrown carelessly on the floor.

“I see ye are still in one piece. Are ye all right?” asked Mary.

“I donna know. I did what ye said and barely moved to ease the pain. I think the counting helped as well. It wasnae as bad as I thought it would be. Howbeit ye didnae tell me there would be blood.”

“Aye, well, I didnae want ye to worry. Some women bleed more than others. Ye will be sore for a few days, but it will nae be as painful the next time.” Mary smoothed her tresses. “The men are packing our belongings. After we break our fast, we will take our leave.” She smiled down at Sybella. “I will miss ye, and I wish ye naught but happiness with your new husband.”

“I will miss ye as well, Mary.” Sybella pulled herself to her feet and Mary handed her a drying cloth.

“Ye can always come to visit. And besides, Anabel would welcome the sight.”

“She has grown so fast. I can only imagine the young lass she will become by the time I see her again.”

As long as the Highland weather permitted, Sybella often found escape in the confines of the village. Ever since Anabel was a bairn, she had been taken with Sybella—well, who was she fooling? Sybella had been taken with Anabel. The little girl’s temperament was irresistible. In some aspects they were similar, always wanting to be included, to belong.

Refusing to give in to her spell of listlessness, Sybella dressed quickly. Mary helped to pin up her tresses, and even though her cousin-by-marriage frequently pushed her to the edge of sanity, Sybella would truly miss her. After all, Mary was the only woman companion she had in her life.

They walked into the great hall and Sybella gazed upon the faces of her kin, a difficult task knowing in a few short hours the room would be filled with nothing but MacDonells. When a flicker of apprehension coursed through her, it was almost as if Colin sensed her discomfiture and was immediately by her side.

“How are ye, Ella? Are ye all right? If he harmed ye
—
”

Sybella spoke with as reasonable a voice as she could manage. “Colin, I am fine. Truly.”

A look of relief passed over his features. “I am glad to hear it. As I told ye before, ye only need to call upon me and I will come to ye.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I will be fine, Brother. Much to my surprise, Laird MacDonell has been naught but kind to me.”

When Colin saw Alexander sitting at the table on the dais, his eyes narrowed. “And that better nae change.”

Sybella tapped her brother playfully in the arm. “Nay matter what, ye will ne’er stop being the overprotective brother. The man is now my husband. I donna think he would harm me.” She lowered her voice. “And besides, the sooner he trusts me, the sooner I can start to search for the stone.”

“Remember what I said and donna rush things. And ye know, Ella, I will always worry about ye. I am your brother.”

After heartfelt good-byes, Sybella watched the last of her kin ride through the gates. She closed her eyes and squared her shoulders. Her courage and determination were like a rock inside her. When Alexander approached her, she vowed to show the man how unconcerned she was about her clan’s departure.

“Are ye all right?” he asked solemnly.

While her husband’s words about being truthful replayed in her mind, she contemplated whether or not to speak honestly. But that nagging feeling would not cease. How would she ever get the man to trust her if she didn’t speak the truth on some occasions? Against her better judgment, she decided to share her feelings.

“I will be. I feel somewhat saddened to see my clan take their leave, but I am proud to be your wife.” Her words seemed to please him because he gifted her with a bright smile.

“I am proud to have ye as my wife.”

“What do we do now?” When he raised his brow, she realized the meaning of her words insinuated something which she was not yet ready to repeat. “I mean to say—”

“I know what ye meant. Do ye wish for a tour of my home or my lands?”

He didn’t need to ask her twice. With the sun shining in her face, Sybella’s decision was already made. She was about to speak when Alexander chuckled in response.

“I see it in your eyes, lass. Let me secure our mounts.”

She followed him into the barn. Massive wooden beams were overhead, and the smell of hay tickled her nose. Her husband certainly knew his horseflesh because gigantic steeds occupied every stall. As soon as she passed one mount with its pawing feet, the next one would follow suit. The horses playfully threw their heads and nodded in greeting. The animals seemed anxious to run free in the open air, a feeling she knew all too well.

Alexander poked his head around the corner. “Come here and see the mount I have chosen for ye.”

She walked to the very last stall where a gentle mare several hands shorter than the rest stood very still. The chestnut horse was so immobile that Sybella had to look twice to make sure the beast was not dead. “I donna know what to say.”

“She is a verra quiet horse. I think ye two will get along fine.” He patted the even-tempered creature on the neck and then looked at Sybella for approval.

“Where is my own horse?” she asked, glancing around the stable. When Alexander raised his brow questioningly, she added, “The one I rode from Kintail.”

“Your father’s men gathered him this morn, lass.”

“My father took my horse?” Her voice unintentionally went up a notch.

“Ye donna like this one?”

If she was to spend the rest of her days under a MacDonell roof, she could not hold her tongue all of the time. And this happened to be one of them. “’Tisnae that I donna like her, but mayhap she would be more suited for someone like Aunt Iseabail. I know how to ride, Alexander. I donna need a quiet mount.”

He closed the distance between them until his imposing frame stood before her. She cast her eyes downward as her husband brushed past her. “Then tell me, Lady MacDonell, which mount would ye choose?”

After inspecting each available mount in the stable, she pointed to the most muscular of the bunch. “This one.”

“
That
one?” Alexander glanced sideways in surprise. “The captain of my guard has his brother, lass. Those two are indeed a handful. I donna think he is suited for ye. Nay, pick another.”

Sybella laughed to cover her annoyance. “Ye asked me which horse I would choose, and I made my decision. I am nae some fragile flower. I have ridden with Colin many—”

He threw up his hands in the air. “
Fine
. If he tosses ye onto your arse, I will be the first to say I told ye so.” Alexander opened the stall door and mumbled under his breath. “What did I get myself into?”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Ye do realize I can still hear ye.”

Her husband peeked around the stall door. “My apologies. Would ye rather I speak when I look at ye? I would be happy to repeat—”

When she realized that he was only jesting, she rolled her eyes. “Just cease and saddle the mount.”

He pulled the animal from the stall. Without giving her a chance to protest, he hefted her onto the horse as if she weighed as little as a bairn. If her mount’s prancing feet and agitated movements were any indication, the horse was indeed a high-spirited beast. She knew she only needed to give the animal a firm hand and let him know who was in charge, similar to her own husband—although, she couldn’t imagine Alexander willingly accepting defeat.

He swung up effortlessly onto his mount and grabbed the reins. “Are ye sure ye want to do this?” When her eyes narrowed at his repeated question, he shrugged his shoulders. “Come. I will show ye the loch.”

They rode along the dirt path, with Sybella following her husband. When visions of Alexander in her bed replayed in her mind, she quickly replaced the wicked thoughts with the memory of his kiss upon the parapet. Although she had acted like a wanton fool in broad daylight, the touch of his lips had been quite enjoyable. Was she supposed to feel this way? She was so confused. She knew she had to betray him, but yet she still managed to find pleasure in his touch. How could that be? What was wrong with her? She thought the man would be…different. He definitely stirred something within her that she didn’t understand.

Alexander was so confident in every move he made. That’s why she couldn’t help herself when her eyes became focused on his broad back and strong shoulders. She tilted her head to one side, stealing a slanted look at his solid frame. Her husband was rather pleasing to the eye, even though he was a MacDonell.

Dipping his head slightly, he asked, “Do ye like what ye see?”

Her mouth dropped. “What?”

He swung his head around and looked at her. “The loch, Wife.”

“Aye. ’Tis verra bonny—the loch.”

When they reached a small clearing, Alexander helped her down from her horse and tethered their mounts to a branch.

“There is something I wish to show ye.”

He grabbed her hand and led her into the trees. They continued to walk, the smell of the loch and foliage overwhelming her senses. When they reached the edge of the tree line, it was as if a curtain had been opened on a window before her—the thicket cleared and they were surrounded by water on three sides.

“This is magnificent,” she stated simply.

Glengarry sat imposingly in the distance, and the water looked like a silken blanket draped across the land. She closed her eyes as the small waves lapped against the sandy shore.

“I thought ye would enjoy it. If we have much rain, it will flood this land.”

“Thank ye for sharing this with me. Truly.”

“
’
Tis my pleasure, lass. I want ye to feel comfortable here. This is now your home, too.”

Alexander peered at her intently, and she made it a point to concentrate on everything but him. Every time his gaze met hers, her heart turned over in response. She decided not to make eye contact until she could figure out what caused this unnerving reaction. Well, that was what she told herself until he turned her to face him.

There was a tingling in the pit of her stomach. Laird Alexander MacDonell was so disturbing to her in every way. She tried to steady the dizzying feeling within her, but her husband portrayed a vitality that definitely captured her.

He stepped closer and clasped her body tightly to his.

God
help
her.
She had no desire to back out of his embrace. Her eyes fell to his lips, and the anticipation was almost unbearable. She tried to calm her racing heart. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by romantic notions—or whatever this might be.

He gently brushed a kiss across her forehead, and then his lips slowly descended to meet hers. His mouth covered hers hungrily, his tongue sending shivers of desire through her.

As his mouth grazed her earlobe, she drew his face to hers in a renewed embrace, succumbing to the forceful domination of his lips. For one insane moment, Sybella actually wanted him to crush her mouth in a hard, bruising kiss.

He was so warm and so very tempting.

When long, tickling tendrils brushed against her cheek, she couldn’t help herself. She wound her hand in Alexander’s thick hair and pulled him closer. Her soft curves molded into his lean body.

He tugged at her dress, exposing a creamy breast. His lips touched her nipple with tantalizing possessiveness, and he fondled the other with his rough fingers. The rosy peaks grew to pebble hardness.

And then he stilled…

Thundering hooves approached from a distance. Alexander hastily adjusted her clothing and she smoothed her skirts. Branches cracked and snapped behind them as someone trudged through the brush. A man as imposing as her husband emerged into the small clearing.

“John.” The captain of Alexander’s guard.

Sweat beaded on the man’s brow and his breathing was labored. “Pardon the intrusion, my laird.
’
Tis Lady Iseabail.”