woman.”
“Henna, I’m a soldier and an earl . I have to hurt ‘weaker creatures’ all the time. For what it’s worth, I don’t think much more was hurt than her pride and her sensibilities.”
“For a woman, that kind of pain is the most humiliating and cruel.”
“I have to disagree with you. It was important for me to show her who was in charge, and how important her safety is to me. I know it will surprise you to learn that I’m coming to care about the little scamp.”
“Ha! If you cared about her you’d act differently. You refuse to make an honest wife of her and take her to your bed, and yet you’re happy to turn her over your lap and punish her like an errant child when she makes one mistake. How do you think she feels, that you’ll torment her defenseless bottom but haven’t yet performed your husbandly duties as you should— ”
“She feels nothing, because the ignorant chit has less than no idea what husbands and wives actually do . And I’d prefer it to stay that way as long as possible,” he added with a stern look at Henna. “I’ll introduce my wife to the intricacies of the marriage bed as soon as I see fit.”
“Well,” Henna harrumphed, scrubbing his back so hard he was sure she left marks, “I can’t say I agree with the way you’re treating her. Thought I raised you better, I did. Sometimes I think you’re as cold as your father deep down inside.”
“I am not like my father!” Duncan snapped. He bit his tongue hard to keep from saying words he’d regret, and stiffened under her hands. “Leave me now, Henna. I can abide no more of your squawking. Just leave me alone.”
Wisely, in the face of Duncan’s anger, the portly old woman made herself scarce.
Duncan sank back in the water with a frown. He was not his father’s son. He never would be. No. His father was cold, emotionless, incapable of showing love or even empathy. Duncan was nothing like him, nothing at all. Was he? No, he wasn’t, he couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be.
He rose up out of the tub and began to dry himself. It was time for dinner, time for him to sit and eat beside his wife. He needed to see her, desperately needed to be near her. Somehow her beauty, her innocent gaze, her crooked, uncertain smile would make it all okay.
Chapter Five
Duncan’s hair was still wet when he arrived at the hall for dinner. His face hardened when he saw she wasn’t there, but then he saw her approaching from the corridor. She turned her head a little, dropping her eyes from his. She was so charmingly shy. Or was she fearful? Ashamed perhaps? When she drew near he offered his hand and she took it, sliding him a look he didn’t understand.
Well enough. Who understood women? Her duty now was to sit and eat beside him and as long as she did that, he didn’t care what was going through her addled head. She sat on his left side, eating very little and speaking even less. She fidgeted plenty though, until he put a hand on her leg. She stilled, looking up at him.
I know. I meant for it to hurt.
“Aren’t you hungry? You should eat. Your gowns are practically falling off you.”
“These aren’t my gowns.”
He frowned. Why didn’t his wife have any gowns of her own yet? He’d have to ask Henna to remedy that quickly. She needed gowns that hugged every gorgeous curve. She should have a hundred beautiful gowns, all of them bright yellow, red, orange. Garish blazing colors so he could keep track of her when she ran off and climbed into trees. He chuckled under his breath.
“What is it?” she asked, pushing her food around her plate.
“Nothing.” He watched her toy with her meal. It was obvious she was uncomfortable; not just uncomfortable sitting, but uncomfortable sitting next to him. It annoyed him, but he understood. “Put your fork down if you’re finished eating.”
“May I be excused?”
“No.”
She placed her fork beside her plate and put her hands in her lap. Duncan swirled the
“Henna, I’m a soldier and an earl . I have to hurt ‘weaker creatures’ all the time. For what it’s worth, I don’t think much more was hurt than her pride and her sensibilities.”
“For a woman, that kind of pain is the most humiliating and cruel.”
“I have to disagree with you. It was important for me to show her who was in charge, and how important her safety is to me. I know it will surprise you to learn that I’m coming to care about the little scamp.”
“Ha! If you cared about her you’d act differently. You refuse to make an honest wife of her and take her to your bed, and yet you’re happy to turn her over your lap and punish her like an errant child when she makes one mistake. How do you think she feels, that you’ll torment her defenseless bottom but haven’t yet performed your husbandly duties as you should— ”
“She feels nothing, because the ignorant chit has less than no idea what husbands and wives actually do . And I’d prefer it to stay that way as long as possible,” he added with a stern look at Henna. “I’ll introduce my wife to the intricacies of the marriage bed as soon as I see fit.”
“Well,” Henna harrumphed, scrubbing his back so hard he was sure she left marks, “I can’t say I agree with the way you’re treating her. Thought I raised you better, I did. Sometimes I think you’re as cold as your father deep down inside.”
“I am not like my father!” Duncan snapped. He bit his tongue hard to keep from saying words he’d regret, and stiffened under her hands. “Leave me now, Henna. I can abide no more of your squawking. Just leave me alone.”
Wisely, in the face of Duncan’s anger, the portly old woman made herself scarce.
Duncan sank back in the water with a frown. He was not his father’s son. He never would be. No. His father was cold, emotionless, incapable of showing love or even empathy. Duncan was nothing like him, nothing at all. Was he? No, he wasn’t, he couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be.
He rose up out of the tub and began to dry himself. It was time for dinner, time for him to sit and eat beside his wife. He needed to see her, desperately needed to be near her. Somehow her beauty, her innocent gaze, her crooked, uncertain smile would make it all okay.
Chapter Five
Duncan’s hair was still wet when he arrived at the hall for dinner. His face hardened when he saw she wasn’t there, but then he saw her approaching from the corridor. She turned her head a little, dropping her eyes from his. She was so charmingly shy. Or was she fearful? Ashamed perhaps? When she drew near he offered his hand and she took it, sliding him a look he didn’t understand.
Well enough. Who understood women? Her duty now was to sit and eat beside him and as long as she did that, he didn’t care what was going through her addled head. She sat on his left side, eating very little and speaking even less. She fidgeted plenty though, until he put a hand on her leg. She stilled, looking up at him.
I know. I meant for it to hurt.
“Aren’t you hungry? You should eat. Your gowns are practically falling off you.”
“These aren’t my gowns.”
He frowned. Why didn’t his wife have any gowns of her own yet? He’d have to ask Henna to remedy that quickly. She needed gowns that hugged every gorgeous curve. She should have a hundred beautiful gowns, all of them bright yellow, red, orange. Garish blazing colors so he could keep track of her when she ran off and climbed into trees. He chuckled under his breath.
“What is it?” she asked, pushing her food around her plate.
“Nothing.” He watched her toy with her meal. It was obvious she was uncomfortable; not just uncomfortable sitting, but uncomfortable sitting next to him. It annoyed him, but he understood. “Put your fork down if you’re finished eating.”
“May I be excused?”
“No.”
She placed her fork beside her plate and put her hands in her lap. Duncan swirled the
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