The MacNaughton Bride Page 4

  The inner doors of the church were closed, so no one had seen them yet. They were free to make their arrangements as they would. Another bouquet was produced out of nowhere for Jenny, who was then hustled to the door, protesting all the way. “But, sirs, I was just going to sit at the back of the church. I’m just a maid!”

  Aislinn started to protest that she’d never been just a maid to her, but the youngest beat her to it. “Go on with you now. You’ll find we don’t stand as much on formality here as you might be used to. From what I gather from my brother, you’ve seen to this young woman since she was born and her mother died. You should stand up with her.” He looked to Aislinn for agreement, and found her crying and nodding at the same time. “Good. That’s all settled. Go down to the altar and try to keep Kell from fidgeting himself to death. Tell him we’ll be right there.”

  Burke turned Aislinn towards him and considered her gravely, lifting her veil to daub at her tears gently. It was then that he noticed the patch of MacNaughton plaid at her shoulder, smiling broadly. “Aye, lass, you’ll do, I say. You’ll more than do.” He didn’t know if anyone had told her to reflect fairly closely the flying plaid her husband was wearing, but it was a very endearing thing to do. Kell – and everyone else – was going to love it.

  Finally, it was time. Each man tucked her small, cold hand into an elbow and Grant looked over at a man that Aislinn hadn’t even seen until then – a Highlander, no doubt, who began blowing an almost mournful tune on his pipes. The double doors opened as if by magic, and they began their walk down the aisle as the piper followed them in.

  The church was small and plain, but each pew, as well as the altar, had been tastefully decorated with heather and bows and ribbons of the favorite plaid as well as complimentary colors. It looked gorgeous, and Aislinn was again touched by the outpouring of affection she felt from people who didn’t a whit about her. They walked very slowly, the men next to her nodding and smiling at the people they knew – who seemed to be pretty much everyone in the church – as they passed by. Aislinn was concentrating on not falling down, she was shaking so much. She tried to give herself a talking to – it wasn’t like her to be nervous or afraid about anything. She’d always met life’s challenges head on and dealt with them fearlessly.

  But not this, apparently. Her knees were knocking so loudly she was afraid the guests could hear them. She was pretty sure the brothers could . . . It took all too short a time for them to make it down the aisle, no matter how slowly they were moving. Before she knew it, she was being handed over to her groom, who smiled at her as he tucked her hand into his arm. Kell was alarmed at how frigid her fingers were, and he could feel them tremble at the crook of his elbow. He patted those fingers in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, but it didn’t still her shaking one bit.

  Even her voice shook when she had to say “I do.” She was ever so glad that she wasn’t going to be required to say anything more – she wasn’t at all sure that she’d be able to get it out. Her throat and mouth were as dry as any desert she’d ever read about.

  Contrary to her, Kell’s responses rang out, strong and true, so that everyone – even those at the back of the church – could hear him. The brothers responded with unbridled glee when the clergyman asked who was giving the bride away, but even that couldn’t get her to crack a smile. When Burke produced the ring with a flourish that called forth titters from their audience, Kell took her hand and could barely get the thick gold ring onto her finger; it was shaking so badly. Kell felt compelled to whisper, “Relax. This really isn’t the gallows.”

  Biting her lip, and worrying that she’d made a bad impression, Aislinn barely got out, “I know.”

  It wasn’t quite the response Kell was hoping for. She looked more nervous now than before he’d spoken to her. Sighing, he patted her hand again as he tucked it back into his elbow.

  When she looked back on it later, Aislinn would realize she couldn’t remember much of the ceremony, at least until they were pronounced man and wife, and her husband turned her gently, reaching for the fringes of her veil and carefully pulling it up and over her face. Before he bent down that great distance between them and kissed her though, he fingered the scrap of tartan at her shoulder. “That was a very nice thing to do, Aislinn MacNaughton. Thank you for honoring us by wearing our plaid.”

  “You’re welcome,” she croaked up at him.

  Those big hands tugged her just a bit closer, so that she was pressed up against him in a very improprietous manner. One paw drifted up and cradled the back of her head beneath her veil, tilting her head slightly as his face filled her vision. The surprising thought that it was a very pleasant face, indeed, flashed through her mind before he kissed the tip of her nose, then softly pressed his lips to hers. It was an exquisitely tender kiss, with his hand framing her face as if she was made of the most delicate crystal.

  When he drew back, she smiled tentatively up at him, and Kell was lost. He couldn’t believe she was his. Caught up in the moment, he hugged her tightly to him. His parents had been matched by their parents, yet they had grown to love each other endlessly. He was definitely hoping that history would repeat itself for them. They had a lot of “getting to know each other” to do, and he had a very important decision to make about what would happen between them tonight.

  But he put that out of his mind for the moment, and turned himself and his new bride to their guests, starting down the aisle to the loud and raucous cheers of everyone around them, and the melodic sounds of the piper, who followed them down the aisle after their cobbled together wedding party. Both sets of church doors were thrown wide open and, although her husband was doing his best to shorten his stride to match hers, Aislinn felt as if she was gliding down the aisle under no power of her own. She could see ahead of them that the small, plainer carriage in which she’d been brought to the church had been replaced by a large, more ostentatious one with the family crest painted prominently on the door, liveried footmen and four perfectly matched white horses.

  Her husband handed her up into the carriage and then followed her in himself, tapping on the ceiling to set the carriage in motion. Aislinn found herself sitting on the opposite seat from her husband, a position she found infinitely comforting, but apparently he had other ideas and joined her there, forcing her to scrunch herself either into the corner of the carriage, or closer to him. He seemed to watch her carefully as she struggled with her decision as to which was the lesser of the two evils.

  “I don’t bite. I promise,” he whispered with a conspiratorial wink. Experimentally, Kell held his arms open to her, hoping she’d trust him enough to come into them.

  Aislinn bit her lip, looking up at him, which she was only beginning to realize was something she was going to have to get quite used to doing. Very few people in her life had ever offered her a hug, and she realized with a start that this man was her husband, and he was simply doing his best to offer her comfort. With that thought in mind, she leaned herself gingerly into his arms, feeling their overwhelming strength as they closed around her. His body was hard as a rock, and she was certain that she would find no comfort here, but as his arms settled into place locked loosely at her waist, and she could feel the heat seeping from his body to hers, even though the layers of clothing. It was very nice to be held like this, she decided, daring to wiggle a little to adjust herself better.

  “There – that’s not so bad, is it, lass?” His voice rumbled to her ears through his chest, low and quiet.

  “It’s wonderful,” she sighed, and Kell smiled to himself.

  “What about the ceremony? Was it to your liking?”

  She tried to sit up and away from him, but he wouldn’t let her. She settled for drawing back a bit, enough to see his eyes. “Oh, dear me, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen! And your brothers coming to walk me down the aisle, and Jenny being able to stand up with me . . . “ The tears that had never really left her flooded back into her eyes. “Thank you. It was bet
ter than I could ever have expected.”

  One of his arms squeezed her tight for a moment. “I’m glad you liked it, Aislinn,” Kell tipped her chin up, so that she had to look him in the eye. “This is the first time we’ve had to talk to each other alone, and I just wanted to let you know that I’ll try to be as good a husband as I possibly can. I’m not the easiest man to get along with, but I rarely drink and I’m not a spendthrift - I’m too Scottish for that,” he smiled. “I’m also not given to hitting women, unless they misbehave.”

  Aislinn was stunned. If he decided to take his fists to her, she wouldn’t last past the first punch.

  Kell saw the terrified look on her face and rushed to clarify his meaning. “No, I would never belt you one as some men seem to have a fondness. I’m speaking of the right of a husband to correct his wife – I believe the English term is ‘rule of thumb’ – that a man may use a rod no thicker than his thumb with which to chastise his wife for misbehavior.” She was still looking at him goggle eyed. “I doubt I’d use any implement on you – you’re too small. Even a tawse would surely wrap around to areas that are much too tender for such abuse.

  “But make no mistake, Madam, if you misbehave, you will find yourself taken over my knee in an instant and I will deliver the swiftest of justice to your bare behind with the flat of my hand until you repent and beg my pardon.”

  Aislinn was finding it hard to breathe, or swallow. This man was going to spank her? She had felt she’d long outgrown spankings. Why, she’d barely been spanked as it was – her father was too much in his cups to deliver much in the way of discipline. Arthur had tried, once, to spank her for nearly setting fire to the house by playing with a lit candle near the curtains of the front window in the parlor of her father’s house, and he had even succeeded in getting her over his lap . . . but not for long. Aislinn was like a whirling dervish, and kicked and bucked and finally bit him on his calf before he gave up and let her go.

  She wasn’t under her Uncle’s thumb long enough, and he didn’t pay enough attention to her anyway, for him to have taken any sort of an interest in disciplining her. She had grown up doing very much as she pleased, and she had never considered that her husband might expect to exercise his right to control her behavior as he saw fit. Come to think of it, no one had successfully accomplished a spanking that they intended for Aislinn. It just wasn’t done.

  Unable to even begin to process his statements, Aislinn shut her mouth slowly after only just realizing that it had been hanging open like a barn door.

  Kell watched her carefully as she absorbed what he’d said. Apparently it wasn’t something she’d considered before, but it wasn’t at all unusual in this neck of the woods. He didn’t know how things worked in the land of the English, but around here a man kept close track of his woman, and if she didn’t behave herself, he was expected to take matters into his own hands and deal with it. Most Scottish cottages had a tawse hanging from a hook in the living area, for use by the man of the house on his wife as well as their children.

  Now Kell knew full well that some men abused their wives and used their rights as an excuse to do so. But he was not now nor would he ever be that type of man. His wife didn’t know that, however. She had only his word to go on, but she would soon learn that his word was worth more to him than all of the titles or bank accounts in Scotland. He was a man of his word, and everyone around these parts knew the truth of it. Eventually, she would know, too.

  They had arrived at the castle, but Kell made no move to get out of the carriage, or even let her go. He wanted to bring something up before they went in that had bothered him. “Aislinn, I always want you to tell me the truth, do you understand? Lying is something I won’t tolerate from anyone, much less my wife. It’s one of the things that’ll get you a spanking that’ll leave you standing for a month at least.”

  Aislinn nodded, becoming more and more concerned about all his talk about hitting her, open fisted or not.

  “Well, I want you to tell me why you delayed in coming into the church? I’m not mad about it, or anything, but I just want to know what made you wait so long to come in? Were you ill?”

  His new wife shook her head “no”, looking down at the hands in her lap as she fidgeted with her wedding ring, as if it chafed her.

  Kell sighed. He hated guessing games. “Were you nervous?” He put his hands over hers, surrounding them completely and enfolding them in his warmth. “Thinking about running away?” Kell felt her start at his words, and knew he had hit the answer on the head. “I know that what I’m saying is just so much talk right now – you have to get to know me. But I’m not an ogre, and I’m not insensitive to your situation.” He couldn’t believe that he was even considering saying what he was going to say, but it came out anyway. He couldn’t stand that scared little girl look in her eye another minute. “We’ll take our time and get to know each other. Do you understand what I mean?”

  Aislinn had no clue, but what he was saying sounded very good to her – not being rushed and taking their time. “I – I would appreciate the opportunity to spend some time with you.”

  He could see that she was as innocent as he’d feared, and sighed, patting her hand. “Don’t worry, lass. I don’t want you to think that I’m going to push you into something you don’t want. But – “ he leaned down and looked deeply into her eyes. “if you had run away, you would have been learning your first lesson over my knee this very moment. You are never to run from me. Am I making myself completely clear?”

  She nodded, more out of habit than anything else. It just seemed like the right thing to do. His eyes were so dark and mysterious; she was losing herself in their unfathomable depths. She’d never felt so overwhelmed by anyone, and yet, at the same time, so safe and secure. He made her feel that he would never let anyone hurt her. That the only person she had to be on her guard around was him, because if she truly let herself go around him, she’d fall in love with him, and be the most vulnerable she’d ever been in her life.

  “Good. Now, what do you say we go in and join our guests at our reception, Madame MacNaughton?” He surprised her by rising with her in his arms, shouldering open the door and stepping out of it with her still in his arms. A lot of their guests were milling about outside, waiting for them to decide to get out of their carriage. It seemed that the two of them were adopting a habit of spending inordinate and discourteous amounts of time locked away in conveyances while everyone waited for them to appear.

  Chapter 4

  But when they all got a gander of the new Lady MacNaughton in the arms of her dashing husband, a great cheer rose up from the crowd. Kell kept her in his arms until he settled her into her throne like seat at the head table. The guests poured in around them, offering the bride their best wishes and the groom their congratulations on a fine marriage. Aislinn was hugged by everyone she saw, even the brothers, who each took the opportunity to hug her (again?) as they made their way to their own seats at the head table.

  Kell pulled out his chair and sat down as the signal that everyone else should, and the meal began. When Aislinn mentioned to Jenny – who was amazed to find herself sitting next to her little girl – how gorgeous she thought the hall was with the ribbons and sprigs of heather artfully displayed everywhere, Kell leaned over and whispered into his wife’s ear that their servants had decorated both the church and the hall for them as a present.

  “Oh, how can we thank them?”

  He was enchanted by her, more so than he wanted to be. If she was truly as innocent and wonderful as she appeared to be, he was going to be a lost cause. She was going to be able to wrap him around her finger any time she wanted to. He would have to be on guard against that – it wasn’t what a wife needed, as far as he was concerned. She needed a firm – but loving – hand. Not a besotted husband who didn’t have the will to correct her when need be.

  Chuckling slightly, he moved a bit closer. “If you like, I can arrange for them to introduce themselves to you tomorrow m
orning.” Kell took her hand and lifted the back to his lips. “We won’t have time right now for a real honeymoon, Aislinn. I’m sorry, but I just can’t get away right now.”

  She had never expected to have any kind of a honeymoon, so she wasn’t going to miss it, and although she thought it might be a mistake to do so, she said exactly that to him.

  His chuckle turned into outright laughter. “You’re nothing if not forthright in your speech, are you, lassie?”

  Aislinn shrugged and continued to look up at him, her face open and guileless.

  “Well, I hadn’t intended to put you to work immediately, so it’s up to you. You can wait a while if you like before you dive into running the house. We’ll take a real honeymoon in the spring – maybe go to London or Paris?”

  “I would love to go anywhere. Besides going to my Uncle’s, I’ve never been out of the town I grew up in, but I’ve always read about wonderful places.”

  “You read for recreation?” Kell asked as he casually took a sip of the champagne from one of his – their – fine crystal flutes.

  “Oh, yes, since I was about three.”

  He was impressed. Most upper class women read and did maths, but only enough to run a household and not get cheated in the market place. “Did you go to school?”

  “No, not a formal school, but Jenny was a teacher early on, before my Father hired her to help my Mother. She taught me all sorts of things – reading, writing, maths – which I didn’t excel in – some French and Italian, art, literature . . . it was the literature that started me reading. She read me to sleep with Shakespeare when I was little, and I graduated from there on my own. I’ve even written myself a little, but I never like what I write.”

  “Then you’ll be glad to know that I – “ he grinned almost stupidly at her as he corrected himself, “we have a fairly good sized library. It’s in my office, on the second floor, but you’re welcome to come in any time and read while I work or take a book back to our room, whatever you like.”