the wrong done ye after the fact.”
Iliana blanched, only now beginning to realize just how foolish she had been.
Duncannodded solemnly. “I can see ye understand how thoughtless and emptyheaded yer
actions were. That bein' the case, I'll say no more about yer foolishness in chasing after
the spice merchant so. Howbeit, know this. It was a waste o' time. Ye'll no be wastin' me
coins on spices. I've plans for them already as ye heard this night, and I'll not have ye
wastin' me newfound wealth on spices and cloth and the like.”
“Aye, husband,” Iliana murmured, eager to soothe him.
Iliana was silent and subdued for the rest of the journey, weariness creeping over her so
that it was a relief when they finally arrived home. Not wishing to angerDuncanand bring
more censure upon herself, she did her best not to shrink from him as he helped her to
dismount. But once he had set her upon the ground and released her, she hurried up the
steps to the keep, not waiting to see whether he followed.
As late as it was, Laird Angus was still up.
Seated in one of the two chairs by the fire, he was staring sadly into its depths but
glanced up when she entered. Spying her, he smiled and offered a word of welcome.
Managing a weak smile in response, Iliana murmured a greeting as she crossed to the
stairway, then trudged silently up the steps to the second floor. The door of the bed
chamber she had come to think of as her own had never looked so welcoming as it did at
that moment. Pushing it open, Iliana stepped inside and started to close the door, only to
find it resist her push. Turning back in surprise, her eyes widened as she saw
thatDuncanhad followed her and was now entering the room. She had not even considered that
he might expect to sleep here tonight. A foolish oversight, she supposed wearily. After
all, her husband had been sleeping in Seonaid's room, but that young woman had returned
from her hunting trip today. That being the case, Iliana supposed she should have
expectedDuncanto join her in their room that night but the thought had not occurred to
her, and she now eyed him warily as he entered.
***
Closing the door,Duncanwalked to the bed, thoroughly ignoring his wife's glare. Her
expression made him feel something of an interloper as he began to unbuckle his sword, and
that annoyed him. It was his bloody room. And she was his wife. Though one could be
forgiven for not believing that since she seemed to have no concept of how a wife should
behave. A wife was her husband's possession as surely as his castle, his cattle, and his
sword. She was to subject herself to her husband's will, not stomp about in a belt of
chastity, insulting his odor and demanding that he bathe.
His gaze slid to his wife as an image of her standing in naught but that damn belt came to
mind. Her flesh had been nearly as white as those precious linens of hers, with just a
blush of pink, he remembered, licking his lips.
Aware that his body was growing excited at the memory,Duncansighed and turned his back to
her. Twas a form of torture to do otherwise and he had suffered enough such torment of
late.Duncanhad found it impossible to forget the way she had trembled and shuddered in his
arms on the morning after the wedding. In fact, he seemed to think of little else but that
and how to get her out of her bloody belt so that he could finish what had been started
that morning. He had considered the matter carefully these last three days. He had
considered simply cutting the belt from her body, for other than the metal locking device
itself, the rest of the contraption was merely leather. But it was thick leather that
pressed tight to her flesh. He could do her great damage trying such a trick. That
morning, while she had been busy below, he had ransacked her chests in search of the key
but hadn't found it. He had even considered beating her
Iliana blanched, only now beginning to realize just how foolish she had been.
Duncannodded solemnly. “I can see ye understand how thoughtless and emptyheaded yer
actions were. That bein' the case, I'll say no more about yer foolishness in chasing after
the spice merchant so. Howbeit, know this. It was a waste o' time. Ye'll no be wastin' me
coins on spices. I've plans for them already as ye heard this night, and I'll not have ye
wastin' me newfound wealth on spices and cloth and the like.”
“Aye, husband,” Iliana murmured, eager to soothe him.
Iliana was silent and subdued for the rest of the journey, weariness creeping over her so
that it was a relief when they finally arrived home. Not wishing to angerDuncanand bring
more censure upon herself, she did her best not to shrink from him as he helped her to
dismount. But once he had set her upon the ground and released her, she hurried up the
steps to the keep, not waiting to see whether he followed.
As late as it was, Laird Angus was still up.
Seated in one of the two chairs by the fire, he was staring sadly into its depths but
glanced up when she entered. Spying her, he smiled and offered a word of welcome.
Managing a weak smile in response, Iliana murmured a greeting as she crossed to the
stairway, then trudged silently up the steps to the second floor. The door of the bed
chamber she had come to think of as her own had never looked so welcoming as it did at
that moment. Pushing it open, Iliana stepped inside and started to close the door, only to
find it resist her push. Turning back in surprise, her eyes widened as she saw
thatDuncanhad followed her and was now entering the room. She had not even considered that
he might expect to sleep here tonight. A foolish oversight, she supposed wearily. After
all, her husband had been sleeping in Seonaid's room, but that young woman had returned
from her hunting trip today. That being the case, Iliana supposed she should have
expectedDuncanto join her in their room that night but the thought had not occurred to
her, and she now eyed him warily as he entered.
***
Closing the door,Duncanwalked to the bed, thoroughly ignoring his wife's glare. Her
expression made him feel something of an interloper as he began to unbuckle his sword, and
that annoyed him. It was his bloody room. And she was his wife. Though one could be
forgiven for not believing that since she seemed to have no concept of how a wife should
behave. A wife was her husband's possession as surely as his castle, his cattle, and his
sword. She was to subject herself to her husband's will, not stomp about in a belt of
chastity, insulting his odor and demanding that he bathe.
His gaze slid to his wife as an image of her standing in naught but that damn belt came to
mind. Her flesh had been nearly as white as those precious linens of hers, with just a
blush of pink, he remembered, licking his lips.
Aware that his body was growing excited at the memory,Duncansighed and turned his back to
her. Twas a form of torture to do otherwise and he had suffered enough such torment of
late.Duncanhad found it impossible to forget the way she had trembled and shuddered in his
arms on the morning after the wedding. In fact, he seemed to think of little else but that
and how to get her out of her bloody belt so that he could finish what had been started
that morning. He had considered the matter carefully these last three days. He had
considered simply cutting the belt from her body, for other than the metal locking device
itself, the rest of the contraption was merely leather. But it was thick leather that
pressed tight to her flesh. He could do her great damage trying such a trick. That
morning, while she had been busy below, he had ransacked her chests in search of the key
but hadn't found it. He had even considered beating her
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