“What do ye think?” he asked her.
“The garden is quite lovely.”
Aunt Iseabail smiled. “I have always enjoyed it. The flowers on Dòmhnall’s grave are from here. I remember when we were children and my brother used to trample my mother’s garden with his swordplay.” She shook her head. “As we grew older, I think Dòmhnall began to appreciate the beauty.”
“The flowers for the celebration were verra bonny,” said Sybella.
“Ye were fortunate most were in bloom. Ye will have to schedule carefully so that the petals are in bloom when your bairn is born.”
When Sybella’s mouth dropped, Alex could not stay the chuckle that escaped him. “Now ye know ’tis nearly impossible to schedule such an occasion, Aunt.”
She cast a wicked smile. “That doesnae mean the two of ye cannae be trying in the meantime.”
Sybella colored fiercely and he gestured to a bench. The two of them sat while Aunt Iseabail pulled weeds from the garden beds.
“She seems to be doing much better,” said Sybella.
Alex hunched over, his arms resting on his thighs. “Her mind comes and then it takes its leave with little or nay warning. I think the celebration added excess worry, but now that we are wed, I hope she can rest.” He sat up and gave her a warm smile. “I must thank ye again for seeing to her. She is my responsibility. I donna expect ye—”
“Donna be ridiculous. We are wed. Your burdens are nay longer your own. Aunt Iseabail is kin.”
“I thank ye for your words, but I will nae have ye hurt. Ye faced the wolf alone. Had ye waited for me…Ye are also my kin, my wife, and I will nae have ye injured by being so reckless.”
She closed her eyes. “Alexander, I told ye before that Aunt Iseabail would’ve been injured or worse had I waited for ye. And before ye judge me, I would ask that ye give me a chance. Take me hunting and ye will see. Your concern is misplaced.” Remembering her brother’s words, she quickly added, “Ye need to learn to trust me. As ye said, I am your wife.”
He suppressed a sigh. “We shall see.”
“’Tis all I ask.”
“Since ye are now the lady of the castle, if anything isnae to your liking, let me know. Please make any changes that ye need. The household staff has been instructed to heed your command.”
Sybella nodded. “I cannae see myself making many changes. Aunt Iseabail has done wonderfully.”
“Nephew, could ye please come here and pull this dastardly root?” asked Aunt Iseabail, her hands placed on her hips.
“Pray excuse me.” He rose from the bench and approached his aunt. “And pray tell, where is this dastardly root?”
She pointed to the menacing plant, and he bent over and tugged at the stem. When he turned his head toward Sybella, she hastily lowered her gaze. He wasn’t blind. He didn’t miss his wife’s obvious examination and approval. For some reason, he was pleased that she had softened somewhat toward him.
Sybella promptly lowered her gaze. She wouldn’t give the rogue the satisfaction of knowing how much she favored his appearance. There was a maddening hint of arrogance about Laird Alexander MacDonell, and once again she found herself drawn to him. She found it somewhat hard to believe that this man was from the same clan that her kin grew up despising. From what she had seen thus far, Alexander’s family was nothing but kind. In fact, the heartfelt tenderness her husband showed toward his aunt warmed Sybella’s heart. Perhaps this marriage would be easier than she had anticipated. But that would make her true purpose much harder to carry out.
“Be warned. When Aunt Iseabail asks ye to take a walk in the garden, her purpose is to make ye pull weeds,” said Alexander in a jesting tone. He sat back down on the bench and they shared a smile.
“’Tis perfectly fine with me. I would rather have my hands in the dirt than sit idle.”
“And yet, that doesnae surprise me.”
He patted her leg and her skin tingled when he touched her. She cleared her throat in a nervous gesture, and almost as if her husband knew how he affected her, he fingered a loose tendril of hair on her cheek. She was by no means blind to his attraction, and his nearness made her senses spin. It was far too easy to get caught up in the way he looked at her.
As Sybella moistened her dry lips, he quirked his eyebrow questioningly. He reached out and caught her hand in his. It was an odd sensation, but once her fingers touched the warmth of his hand, she felt…safe.
A devilish look came into his eyes and he slowly lowered his head to kiss her.
“God’s teeth, Alexander! Are ye two just going to sit there all day, or are ye going to help me pull these overgrown weeds?”
Sybella brought up her hand to stifle her giggles, and Alexander managed a choking laugh.
“Your timing is impeccable, Aunt.”
Eight
The day had not turned out the way Alex had planned. He’d wanted to gently woo his wife and slowly stir her passion. He had not expected to be disrupted in the middle of a tryst with his wife to hunt for Aunt Iseabail and strike down a wolf with his broadsword. This eve, he was determined not to be interrupted again and held from his purpose.
Before long, Sybella would be with child and he would have fulfilled his duty to the MacDonell clan. Of course, that was if he could undo the damage of Mary’s outlandish words to Sybella. Nothing killed his ardor more than having a woman with clenched eyes beneath him counting sheep.
This eve, he had given the lass more than enough time to prepare for him to come to her. Alex opened the adjoining door to Sybella’s bedchamber and gently closed it behind him. One bedside candle remained lit and he almost cursed the darkness. Selfish as it might be, he wanted to see all that the lass had to offer.
As he approached the bed, he could see his wife’s golden locks tumbled carelessly over her shoulders. Her full, rosy lips were parted in gentle, rhythmic breathing. He brushed his fingers through her hair and softly caressed her cheek. When she let out a little snort and then rolled over onto her side, he could barely contain the chuckle that escaped him.
A perfect ending to a less than perfect day.
Not having the heart to wake the sleeping beauty, Alex sought his own bed and tried unsuccessfully to stay the memory of his wife’s luscious flesh. How could he forget the rosy peaks of her breasts as they grew to pebble hardness? He had given every part of her body the attention it deserved—from her taut stomach to her creamy thighs to every fold in between.
When he realized his body’s normal reaction to his impure thoughts, Alex took his hand to himself, taking care of his own desires lest the lass bolt like a scared rabbit the next time from all of his pent-up frustration. The last thing Alex wanted to do was frighten Sybella from his bed. For now, he would sate his own needs; tomorrow was another day.
Alex awoke in the morning to blankets that were knotted and pillows that were thrown from the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head, realizing that at times like these, he usually would seek out the skillful Doireann. His leman’s expert touch had cured his urges and satisfied all of his desires. Granted, this was the same lass who had tried to shackle him into marriage, but there had never been any expectations between them. He could merely take his leave from Doireann’s bed—or from his study wall or the stables—and not think twice. Now that he had a wife, it was a little more complicated.
Out of respect for Sybella, Alex would stay true to his vows. But he knew he was going to have to do a lot more wooing to have his wife trust him enough to willingly let him share her bed. Granted, he could simply wake her up and demand his marital rights, but he was not that kind of man. In any event, this was definitely a first. He’d never had to woo Doireann; she’d freely shared her favors with him—among others. In truth, he wasn’t sure how to woo his new wife, but he had an idea about how to start.