Aeschene, unaware of this fact of life, began to protest.
“Truly, I can ride, and quite well. If someone leads me.”
For a brief moment, he wished she could see, for the manner in which he glowered was enough to make anyone with perfect vision quake in their boots. He was not a man to be argued with. He would forgive her this one transgression only because of her lack of knowledge on the matter.
Before he could educate her properly on the subject of never ever questioning him, especially when surrounded by people, her maid, Marisse came rushing out of the door with a satchel in each hand.
“I have our things,” she declared, looking directly at Black Richard.
“I was not aware ye had been invited,” Black Richard said.
Marisse pulled her shoulders back and spoke directly to him. “Where Aeschene goes, I go.”
The woman didn’t even allow him time to think on the matter. “With or without yer invitation, I will be goin’. Either on horseback or by foot, it matters not to me.”
Before he could educate her on proper conduct, Aeschene reached out and placed a palm on his chest. Just that simple touch was enough to ease his ire. Aye, she was bewitching him, and he would not stand for it.
“Please?” There was not an ounce of guile to her tone. The gesture, her soft plea had profound effect on his heart.
His mind was fully prepared to warn her that her feminine ways would not work on him, nor would a bright smile, or tears, or anything else she might deem necessary to throw at him like arrows. But he found himself saying, “Aeschene, ye will ride with me. Marisse will be given a mount.”
“Ye are allowin’ me to bring her?” Aeschene asked, looking wholly surprised. Apparently, she’d been fully prepared to argue until she’d won.
“Aye. Ye will need a maid and an ally once ye reach me keep.” It would have been hard enough for a woman with good eyes to adjust to life as his wife, he reasoned out. Besides, he would not have time to keep her occupied and he doubted any of the women of his clan would volunteer. Nay, it only made sense to bring her maid along.
Aeschene smiled then. A warm, dazzling smile. A moment later, she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him gratefully. “Thank ye, m’laird,” she whispered. “Thank ye.”
Unaccustomed to being hugged or having such displays of gratitude, he stiffened. There had been a time in his life when he would have smiled and hugged her back. A time in his life where he wouldn’t have questioned the actions of a pretty woman.
Forcing himself to remember that even though she was his wife, she was first and foremost the daughter of his enemy.
Turning his attention to Marisse, he said, “Dunnae dally.”
Marisse did not so much as flinch at the glower in Black Richard’s eyes or the sharpness of his tone. Instead, she stood tall, unfaltering, and glowered back at him. Just what she was thinking, he couldn’t tell. This one shall be trouble, he thought to himself. His suspicion was affirmed when Rory and Daniel stepped forward. “I will help ye to yer mount,” Daniel said, offering her a smile that was meant to be sincere. Instead, it made him look like a lecher.
Black Richard watched as the pretty lass rolled her eyes. “I can find me own way, thank ye.”
Ignoring both young men, Marisse walked down the steps with the two men following closely behind.
“All men behave that way towards her,” Aeschene explained, as if she could read Black Richard’s mind. “She be the prettiest woman in our clan.”
While he was sorely tempted to argue that Aeschene was prettier, he kept his tongue in check. Placing her hand once again in the crook of his arm he led her down the steps. His intent had been only to hurry, for he wanted out of this holding and off these lands as soon as possible.
Forgetting his wife was blind, he moved faster than she was prepared for. She stumbled and began to fall forward. He was able to catch her before she fell completely.
Aeschene’s face burned red with humiliation. “I be sorry, m’laird,” she whispered as he set her back on her feet.
Black Richard took note of two things. The first being not one of her brothers, who were standing directly behind them, had reached out to help her. The second, her sincere and genuine embarrassment. ’Twas the first that set anger to boil deep in his gut. Had he not been there to catch her, her brothers would have let her fall.
“’Twas entirely my fault, lass,” he told her before turning his focus on the brothers. Only one looked even remotely ashamed of himself. The other three were looking pleased, as if to say Black Richard was getting no less than he deserved. ’Twas as odd a moment as he’d ever experienced.
“Come,” he said to Aeschene. This time, he made certain to walk at a much slower pace.
Several things burned in Black Richard’s mind as they rode through the gates of the MacRay keep. Firstly, there had been no tearful goodbye betwixt Aeschene and her father. Hell, there hadn’t been any goodbye. The man hadn’t said a word to her. Neither had her brothers.
Only her mother seemed upset. Elspeth was the only one to shed a tear or offer a warm embrace.
’Twas not grief or worry that kept Garrin or his sons from saying goodbye. Of that, he was certain. But what, pray tell, was it? The only answer he could reckon out was they were simply too furious with the situation to say anything. ’Twas possible they would miss their daughter and sister. Mayhap, just mayhap they were the kind of men who kept their feelings to themselves. That would be the only thing he could ever admire about those men.
The other things that burned were images of his new bride in their marital bed. ’Twas impossible not to think such things when she was sitting in front of him with her bottom pressed against his groin. Add to that the fact he had to wrap his arms around her to hold the reins and it only made sense his thoughts would wander to those places best left un-wandered. She was, after all, a MacRay. The daughter of his sworn enemy. Those facts alone meant he should tread very carefully for everyone with an ounce of common sense knew you could not trust a MacRay.
As soon as they were beyond the walls of the keep, Black Richard clicked his tongue and urged his mount to a slow trot. Undoubtedly, his men were not going to enjoy the slower pace, but ’twas unavoidable. He was quite certain his wife could not endure a long journey, let alone racing at breakneck speeds.
Black Richard’s keep was a full day’s ride from the MacRay’s. His blind wife and her maid were responsible for the tortuously slow pace. Hopefully, they would all be on MacCullough lands by nightfall. They could camp there and be home before the noonin’ meal on the morrow.
Whilst tonight would be there wedding night, he was not sure yet just how he felt about that. Aye, she was a bonny lass, but God’s teeth, she was so tiny and young! The way she had blushed earlier, at the altar when he had kissed her and the awkward way in which she tried to kiss him back left no doubt she was as innocent as he was old.
The sound of her soft voice broke through his quiet reverie. “Why are we goin’ so slow?”
“Fer ye and yer maid,” he replied dryly.
She was silent for a long moment. “Just because I cannae see right does not a cripple make me.”
Just why she sounded so perturbed, he couldn’t rightly say.