Victoria Roberts - [Bad Boys of the Highlands 03] by To Wed a Wicked Highlander Page A

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.
    Alex rose from the bed and rubbed his hand through his hair. He donned his kilt, threw on his tunic and boots, and went to the garden.
    ***
    Sybella sat up and stretched her arms. For the first time since she could remember, she felt rested. She threw the covers from the bed and momentarily paused.
    Alexander had not come for her.
    She briefly wondered why her husband had not sought her bed the night before. She wasn’t exactly sure how such things worked, but perhaps it was too soon after their initial encounter. When another disturbing idea popped into her mind, she wasn’t sure how she felt.
    What if Alexander had a leman?
    Not that she was by any means an expert on the subject, but she knew from her own clan that some married men kept a harlot on the side. She was fairly sure Angus didn’t have one. Sybella would have to be a fool not to notice how much the man worshipped Mary. If Alexander had one of these women, Sybella prayed that he would have enough sense to keep his leman hidden from sight. Something within Sybella stirred at the thought of sharing him with another woman. She couldn’t help but ponder whether or not Alexander touched his leman as he touched her.
    “Sybella, cease your thoughts. Ye are being ridiculous,” she said aloud to herself. She approached the stand and splashed cool water on her face. When the morning haze cleared, she donned her day dress and slippers. She swung open the door to find her husband standing against the wall.
    “Good morn.” He pulled his arm from behind his back and handed her a bunch of roses tied together with a ribbon.
    Sybella stood momentarily frozen. When she reached out to take the flowers, a prickly thorn pierced her skin. She brought her finger to her lips.
    “Be careful. The roses have thorns on the stems,” he said, pointing to the jagged edges.
    She wasn’t about to tell the man that the thorns were to be removed. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that the flowers were to be cut, not pulled out by the roots. Sybella carefully held the thorny roses out in front of her as clumps of dirt hung from the bottom of the roots. She could barely stay the giggle that wanted to escape her, and she tried desperately not to laugh. After all, Alexander had tried to make her feel special, and the flowers were a thoughtful gesture.
    “The roses are verra bonny. I truly thank ye. Give me but a moment and I will place them in some water.”
    He waited for her outside the door. “Are ye ready to break your fast?”
    “Aye.” Sybella walked out of her bedchamber and closed the door.
    “Did ye sleep well?”
    She nodded. “I actually did.” She was hesitant to ask, but it was only polite. “And ye?”
    “As well as could be expected.”
    They walked to the great hall and took their seats upon the dais. Sybella had just reached to take a bite of oatmeal when Aunt Iseabail stormed into the hall. With reddened cheeks and a fiery look in her eyes, the woman cursed the entire way to her seat. Whipping out a chair, Aunt Iseabail sat down and clenched her teeth.
    Sybella reached out and touched the woman’s arm. “Is everything all right?”
    “Nay, ’ tisnae all right.”
    “Tell me what is amiss and mayhap I can assist ye,” Sybella said in a compassionate tone.
    “Nae unless ye can repair the damage to