Bond of Passion by Bertrice Small Page B

known as a sorcerer, as well as the handsomest man in the borders. It was a relief to find that Angus Ferguson was a kind man.
    It had been such an amazing day, and a day filled with so much activity. Duin Castle was so beautiful. It made the tower house where she had been raised look so poor and sparse. Yet she had never felt a lack of anything, and her girlhood home had been filled with love and happiness. She hoped that in the weeks, the months, the years ahead, she would be able to bring that same sense of warmth to Duin, to her husband and their children. Then, clearing her mind of random thoughts, Annabella softly whispered her prayers and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
    On the other side of the little door in the paneled wall, the Earl of Duin was not so fortunate. Angus Ferguson had returned to his own bedchamber, part of a spacious apartment that matched his wife’s. He had seen the relief on her face when he had suggested they come to know each other better. The truth was, he was equally relieved not to have to deflower Annabella this night. She was a stranger. An intriguing one, but nonetheless unfamiliar to him. He had always taken the time to know a woman before they became lovers. His French mother had always insisted that the hunt, and the seduction that ensued, brought about a greater satisfaction when one worked at it. Quick couplings were to be avoided at all costs, and forcing a woman was unforgivable.
    His new wife was a true innocent. Who the hell had told her that lying on her back and opening her legs to him was all that was required of her? Her mother? A serving woman? Annabella might not be a beauty, but he would treat her with the greatest care nonetheless. Her position as his wife made her particularly worthy of his regard.
    She had not been aware that the coverlet she had clutched so tightly had slipped down while they talked. He had been treated to a shadowed glimpse of her breasts beneath the sheer silk and lace of her bed gown. They were dainty, perfectly round little breasts with small nipples. He had quickly looked away so she had not been aware of his interest, but his hands had actually itched to reach out and cup those breasts. Even now, the memory of them caused him to imagine their weight in his palms.
    His body servant had been dismissed for the night, so no one would know he had not done what was expected of them. Jean would see. Like everyone at Duin, she was anxious for him to produce a legitimate heir. She might question him, but should she find out, he knew she would understand. He realized all at Duin would be pleased if midsummer of the new year brought them the birth of the next generation of Fergusons. However, he would not force the issue. Annabella needed to be slowly seduced so that when the right moment came for her to give up her virginity, she would do it gladly and without tears. He wanted her filled with the passion his lips had drawn from her this evening. He wanted to be filled with that same passion her lips had surprised him with earlier. He slept fitfully.

    Up early and down in the hall the next morning, he found Jean. “Tell yer lady that we will ride together this morning,” he said to her.
    Jean looked at him, surprised. “Will she not be too fragile?”
    “Nay,” he replied, and the look he gave his sister warned her to ask no questions.
    Jean did as she was bidden, waking Annabella and helping her dress. She saw the lack of blood upon the sheets, and looked to the younger woman, who blushed. It was then that Jean realized her mistress was yet untouched. As to Angus, she said nothing.
    She realized that her brother was giving his bride an opportunity to know him. She remembered the sage advice regarding lovers that the lady Adrienne had given to them all when they were growing up. Only Mary had fled away when such things were discussed.
    And so Angus and Annabella rode out together most mornings. They rode the hills about the castle. They rode the