“Enough, lads!” Gainor declared. “The night is short enough now. Let the happy couple enjoy what is left of the darkness.”
“There is more ale below,” Noreen sweetened the deal. “I have ordered it set out in celebration of the laird’s brother’s wedding. Drink until it’s time to come for the sheets!”
The McKay men roared with approval before turning and reversing their course. Noreen claimed Gainor as her personal escort on her way through the doorway. Faolan’s captain had little choice but to lend her his strong arm unless he wanted to be downright rude.
Cora smiled as she saw him go. It was her wedding night, after all. Faolan closed the door with a grunt of satisfaction.
“Bloody lot of parasites,” he grumbled. “Stripping me down like some sort of sport.”
“I know the feeling,” Cora muttered.
Faolan froze. He was half facing her, but his body tightened as he gained his first look at her. Her belly twisted. An insane little jolt of excitement hitting her. The truth was, she was more than ready to be done with all of the anticipation over her wedding night. A burden had been lifted from her shoulders. The fear of arriving at a strange stronghold to find a cold groom was gone. Even with the icy reception the McKay appeared to reserve for Faolan, she was relieved beyond measure to see him there as her husband. They might return to the tower and build a life together.
Hope tantalized her with possibilities.
Cora realized they were both staring at one another. The pair of them frozen in place as they tried to absorb their current circumstances. She drew in a deep breath and forced the corners of her mouth up into a little smile of welcome. Noreen was correct; Cora was plenty old enough to wed.
So she’d start acting like a woman instead of a trembling girl. He ventured closer. Her breath caught, but she kept her eyes on him even as her teeth bit into her lower lip.
Her groom stopped just a foot from her.
“Ye do nae need to look so frightened.” Faolan sounded disgusted. He grabbed a pillow off the bed and took it with him toward the heath. “I am no’ going to fall upon ye like a wolf.”
“I am no’ frightened of ye.”
His eyes narrowed as he peered down at her.
“Nervous is no’ frightened,” Cora clarified. “I’ve no’ done this before.”
His expression tightened. There was a glint of something in his dark eyes that hinted at an inner battle.
“Ye will no’ be doing it tonight,” he muttered before reaching past her to grab another pillow off the bed.
“I do nae understand.”
Faolan moved back across the chamber. He sent her a stern look. “Go to sleep, Cora. I’ll be arranging an annulment come first light.”
Faolan turned his back on her and pulled the portion of his plaid that was hanging down his back up to cover his head. He was making ready to settle down for the night.
Annulment.
Perhaps he meant to put her at ease with the word.
But she didn’t relax.
Instead, she felt like something had been ripped from her grasp just moments after she’d realized how much she wanted it. Disappointment went tearing through her as she felt the unmistakable burning of unshed tears in her eyes.
She’d not cry!
Cora flopped back onto the bed to hide her lack of emotional control from him. It wasn’t enough, though, for she had to bite back a scathing response.
She refused to give the beast the satisfaction of seeing her eyes glassy. The sting of rejection was harsher than she’d ever contemplated it might be. She wanted to scream into her pillow but clenched her jaw tight to prevent even the tiniest sound from escaping her lips.
*
The darkest hours of the night were where Faolan normally found solace. A place where the blackness cloaked him and provided him shelter from the world’s harsh judgment.
Tonight, he would have sworn he could feel Cora sleeping across the chamber from him.
Would have bet his life on the fact that he could detect her delicate scent drifting across the space which separated them.
It was for damn sure that her taste lingered on his lips.
Well, lad, that’s what ye get for kissing her.
Aye, and he was ten sorts of a fool for the fact that even as sleep eluded him because of how much he wanted another taste of her lips, Faolan still didn’t lament taking the moment to indulge.
He wanted her.
More than anything else he’d ever encountered. But it was more than lust for her flesh. Her sheer will to taunt the challenges tossed at her drew him to her. The fire in her eyes stroked the thing inside him that made him refuse to submit to those trying to trample him.
His knuckles popped as he gripped the edge of his plaid.
He’d not touch her.
Blessing or no. He didn’t have anything to offer her but a life of hardship.
Chapter Six
The birds announced the arrival of first light. Cora drew in a deep breath and winced at the headache making itself known as she awakened.
Faolan was gone.
Cora blinked.
Had he ever been there?
“Grrr….” Cora socked the pillow as she rolled over.
Her bare feet touched the floor, the chill of the night half numbing her soles. Her unbound hair swung out like a curtain, reminding her of the way Noreen had insisted on letting it down for Faolan’s enjoyment.
Well, he hadn’t enjoyed it or her.
Cora snorted as her emotions shifted.
She’d not think about him. If he didn’t want her, fine. She wouldn’t cry over the loss.
But she discovered herself looking at the bed. She’d pushed the covers back, and the sheet was as clean as it had been when she’d gone to bed. The lack of blood would taint her reputation.
Of course, more than one bride had dealt with such circumstances using her own devices.
Cora stood for a long moment. Even knowing she’d be branded as a slut wasn’t enough to make her go back and bloody the sheet. For it would be a lie. She might have been the source of gossip for a multitude of reasons but never once had she been guilty of lying.
Unbridled, aye.
Discontented with her place as a woman, some said so.
But she’d come to her wedding night pure. Within the hour, the matrons of Clan McKay would return for the sheet, and they’d call her a fallen woman. Yet it wouldn’t be true. And soiling the sheet would only brand Cora as a coward as well.
So, she turned around and went toward the wardrobe. Of the three dresses, she reached for the sturdiest. It was a wool dress. The cloth was dyed a light green color and had only a few bits of burgundy wool for trim. Yet, it was warm and fit her well enough. Most importantly, it didn’t need a set of stays. The bodice was quilted, and stiff reeds were set into the channels to support her breasts. A row of eyelets ran up either side of the front, allowing Cora to dress by herself.
She sat down at a small dressing table and began to brush out her hair. She’d just finished braiding it when she heard the women beginning their climb from the ground floor. There were a few poorly muffled giggles as they made their way up the three stories of steps. Cora stood and faced the door. There was a knock, but the women didn’t wait for permission to open it.
They pushed the door in and flooded forward.
“Oh, my.”