Draw Me A Picture (63 page)

The family of Dundee, as it turned out, attained their notoriety via one of their ancestors, one who held the banner for William Wallace at the Battle of Stirling, and then again for Robert the Bruce at the battle of Bannockburn. This apparently earned the family the title henceforth of standard-bearer and peer of the realm, as well as other titles and lands. The pub-goers seemed quite proud of their heritage-by-association. They seemed to genuinely like talking with strangers and sharing a little bit of their culture.

Taking a longer way back, William led Michelle on a slow stroll through the wooded estate grounds, through arched pathways covered in dormant vines.

“This would be gorgeous in the spring,” William stated, walking arm in arm with his bride. “Perhaps we should come back when it’s greener and less chilly.” Michelle leaned her head against his shoulder while they walked.

“I like the cold air,” she said, softly. “Maybe it’s because I grew up in Denver but it makes me feel energized.” William smiled down at her a moment; she looked serene.

“True. Also, the cold makes one want to go cuddle by a nice, warm fire... indoors,” he said, offhandedly. Michelle smiled, glancing up at him.

“There is that,” she agreed. William concentrated on getting back to their temporary home a little quicker. Michelle felt his pace quicken and hid her laughter. She did not mind in the slightest;  she felt rather faltered  in being wanted.

As they walked briskly down the back garden paths, Michelle took in the view of the castle before them and sighed.

“What a beautiful place,” she thought. Perhaps she envied the Lord and Lady of the estate their home; just a little bit.

“I would love to draw this place,” she said, more to herself than anyone. “This view right here is the best, I think.”

“I saw you brought your sketch-pad,” William said. “You should sit out here maybe tomorrow; it’s supposed to be a little sunnier.” Michelle gave him a small grin.

“I may sketch you into it on the battlements... directing men in fending off Viking invaders.” William laughed at this imagery.

“Minx,” he said. “I’m flattered you see me as the brave protector.”

“I do,” his bride answered, regarding him lovingly. “It doesn’t hurt that you’re cute, either.” William grimaced.

“I detest the word ‘cute’,” he said. “It is what people use to describe puppies or bunnies. But, thank you, love. You alone may use that word around me.” Michelle let out a soft giggle.

“Perhaps, I should swap ‘cute’ with ‘attractive’,” she said. “Or, devastatingly handsome... irresistible...”

“Now you’re talking,” William said, grinning at her. In one, quick move he picked Michelle up and carried her onto the back patio and through the glass French-doors.

Michelle squirmed a bit in his grasp, smiling and blushing. She hoped none of the estate staff saw them; not that she'd seen them at all... the staff seemed to know to keep out of sight. It was nice to have such a large place to themselves.

“Please let me down, sir,” she requested, softly. “I... um, wish to find the hot shower,or a bathub...” William considered this suggestion for a moment.

“You want a bath, eh?” he remarked, changing direction. “I think I  may know just the thing…” They walked a minute down a large corridor hall to an ornate,double door. “Alright. Here’s the main bedroom that we’ve use of, if we want. According to the map, it has a fairly large bathroom.”

Main bedroom indeed; Michelle stared around the huge room with the equally massive canopy bed and elegant furnishings adjacent.

“Good grief... I’d be afraid to sleep here,” she said, feeling a little uncomfortable. William nodded in agreement.

“I like our cozy little tower room much better, love,” he said. “It just lacks a bath.” While the bedroom seemed overly opulent, the adjoining bathroom presented a much more inviting face; it boasted light-gray tile and dark-green accents, with candles. In the middle of the room stood a long, deep standing tub; the sight made Michelle want to bathe in it immediately. Fresh towels hung nearby on brass fittings.

“Lovely,” she said, smiling. William set her down on her feet.

“Why don’t you get your bath started,” he suggested. “I’ll run up and get some of our things.” Michelle smiled at him.

“Thank you sir,” she said, gratefully. “That’s awfully nice of you.” William gave her a rather mysterious wink and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Leaning over the edge of the large tub, Michelle pushed in the metal plug and began running the water. Taking two towels, she brought a chair close to the tub and placed the towels on it. A small, unopened bottle of scented bath-liquid sat in a nearby basket. Taking it in he hands, Michelle looked at the label.

“Cedar and Sage,” she read aloud. The basket had a note on it, bearing the single word: ‘Enjoy’. Blushing, Michelle opened the bottle, inhaling the scent within; the perfume of the soaked forest came back to mind, along with subtle undertones that could not quite be named.

“Exquisite,” Michelle said, to herself. Pouring some of the liquid soap into the tub, Michelle put it back in the basket. The bath filled quickly; Michelle did not bother putting up her hair, as it needed a wash. Disrobing quickly, she stepped into the tub; it almost swallowed her up, it was so large. Just her head and neck were visible above it. Sitting in the rising hot water, Michelle smiled and leaned back against the incline of the tub.

The door opened. The sudden sound made Michelle jump a little. Seeing her husband, she relaxed.

“Mm... smells good in here,” William said, closing the door behind him; he locked it. Standing over the tub, he set down his and Michelle’s luggage.

“That… is a very large bathtub,” he said, grinning. Michelle blushed, looking at the tub’s faucet.

“Yes it is,” she said. “It’s very nice.”

“Oh, is it?” her husband countered. “I should see for myself.” His voice dropped in tone to a level that made shivers go up Michelle’s spine.

“I suppose you could,” she said, glancing up at him briefly. William had already stripped down to his slacks.

“You suppose correctly, minx,” he said, hopping a little to remove one of his boots. Giggling, Michelle drew her legs up to her chest to make room for her man in the tub.

“This is so adorable,” she thought. She kept her eyes on the rising water as William stepped in.

“My word, that is hot,”
he said, lifting his foot right back out. Michelle chuckled at this expression. “What’s so funny?” her groom demanded, though humor was present in his voice.
 

“I forgot... British people tend to dislike like hot water,” she said, quietly. William snorted, making himself step in the water again.

“Wherever did you hear that preposterous lie?” he asked, intrigued; he sat down, doing his best to endure the heat. “How on earth can she stand the water so hot?” he thought. Keeping her laughter in, Michelle took a big breath.

“I hear the ‘C’ on English faucets stands for ‘cold’,” she began,”... and the ‘H’ stands for ‘horribly cold’.” She laughed at William’s annoyed grimace.

“Listen you,” he said, edging closer to her. “Any more comments like that and I’ll run the cold water on you. You’re as bad as your Uncle.” Michelle giggled in her hand. After he got used to the temperature of the water, even William had to admit having such a large bathtub was a really good idea. The young couple spent quite some time in the bath, though very little was spent in actual washing.

Before dinner was served, William walked with his bride through the various rooms of the castle; among the many  historical items to look at stood a steel and glass case which displayed an ancient banner, carefully and lovingly preserved over the centuries. It was the very flag the ancestor of Dundee held by William Wallace at Stirling Bridge. It appeared to have  old bloodstains on it, but it was otherwise in excellent condition.

Their first whole day in Scotland ended by a large fireplace in the ‘drawing room’. Dinner was over, and the staff gone; William and Michelle sat close together on the floor by the fire, on rug, leaning back comfortably against a sofa. They sat still for several minutes, just watching the fire crackle and dance; the orange and red lights threw moving shadows on the dark walls.

Outside, the cold wind blew and howled, but it could not get in. William kept one arm around Michelle; she leaned on him in the most satisfying way, a s if she depended on him. All men like to feel wanted so, but William did not think it would feel quite as gratifying to have her trust him this way. It really felt as if they were becoming one... even just in sitting here, watching a fire. Leaning down a little, he kissed the top of her head.

Looking up at her husband, Michelle studied his face for a moment and smiled. Her smile spoke of understanding. No words were needed; William knew she felt as he did.

The wind blew harder outside, rattling the window menacingly. Grinning, William brought a cup of hot tea to his lips.

“Let the wind blow,”
he thought.
“Nothing will disturb my Michelle and I.”
Beside him, Michelle sighed; it sounded like pure contentment.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

As the taxicab pulled up to William’s building, Michelle smiled up through the window at the brick facade. It was no just longer his building, but theirs. Hopping out, she gladly took her bags in hand out of the trunk and stood patiently as William paid the driver.

“Are you alright with those bags, love?” her man asked, loaded down with luggage himself. Michelle nodded, her cheeks glowing red with the chill. William gave her a smile and led the way towards the entrance, stepping over a small snowdrift. They'd flown back from Scotland right into a snowstorm; while they were away, the City had dressed itself in a thin veil of white. The snow would most likely melt away in a week; it was merely a promissory note on future blizzards. Michelle looked around as they walked through the lobby doors; the snow somehow made all the sharp edges of the concrete look softer.

Luckily, no one else rode up with them but the elevator valet; there was not room for anyone else with the luggage and the unplanned extra bags that somehow made themselves present. Energized with the cold air, Michelle smiled from ear to ear while taking off her hat and gloves. Soon she’d get to step into her new home as Mrs. Montgomery; her eyes shone bright with the thought. William managed to nudge his bride’s shoulder with his elbow, his arms full. Michelle nudged him back, glancing up into her man’s blue eyes. She saw that he was smiling as well.

Finally they stood together at their door; Michelle giggled softy at William’s attempt to punch in the code while carrying so many things.

“No snickering, minx,” he said, setting the bags down in defeat. Putting in the code, he suddenly scooped up Michelle and the bags and carried her in. Laughing, Michelle kept hold of the luggage in her lap; she kissed the bottom of William’s chin. Setting down his bride inside the entry, William chuckled. “I’ve heard that’s traditional,” he said, leaning down for a kiss. Michelle complied willingly. William went back out into the hall for the rest of the bags.

“I’d like to get unpacked before I run out of energy,” Michelle told him, once her man was back inside.

“That’s not a bad idea,” William agreed. “Then we’ve the whole evening to cuddle, hmm?” He winked and made his way down the hall. Michelle followed him, her face a little pink.

“When does the blushing stop?” she wondered. Not that she minded very much; William was allowed to make her blush anytime he wanted. Walking behind him, Michelle’s mind was filled by a rather sentimental thought. She’d never seen her man’s room before... their room. “I have to stop making these comparisons,” she told herself.

Michelle stepped through the double doors, peeking around into their bedroom. She smiled. Though the large, semi-circle window--nearly covering one wall--was in itself impressive, Michelle’s artistic eye traveled to the bed and the arrangement of colors thereon; William’s headboard appeared to be made  of a  dark, rich-brown leather, set against gray pin-striped sheets, dark blue paisley duvet and pillows with a bold, blue throw blanket. It looked comfortable, manly and neat. Michelle didn’t want to change a thing.

“Someone likes Ralph Lauren,” she said, smiling at William. He grinned, setting down the luggage by the closet.

“Guilty,” he said, opening the closet doors. “You like?” Michelle set down her bags as well.

“Very much,” she said. “It has your flavor all over it.” William chuckled.

“I have a flavor?” he teased. Michelle’s blush was all the answer he got.

They spent about half an hour putting away their things as well as marking some items for dry-cleaning, including Michelle’s wedding gown and William’s tuxedo. Michelle lovingly tucked her dress into the plastic garment bag, giving a small sigh.

“You’re lucky,” she remarked. “You get to wear your tux again, but it’s considered taboo to wear your wedding gown again.” William gave a little snort.

“That’s nonsense,” he said, looking over her shoulder. “You look downright gorgeous in that gown, love. I’d be mortally wounded if you didn’t wear it again for me.” Michelle bit her lip and threw him a smile.

“I would, for you,” she said. “It gives away a little more of my, uh... chest than I like.” William took the bag from her and hung it on a hook protruding out of the wall.

“That’s part of its appeal, love,” he remarked, smirking at his bride. He stepped a little closer to her. “If I may, you are still wearing your coat.” Michelle looked down at her blue coat, then over at her groom.

“So are you,” she pointed out, looking her man in the eye. William wrapped his arms around Michelle, smelling her hair and sighing.

“What do you say we un-make the bed?” he suggested hopefully. Michelle’s answer came as a soft laugh, even her ears turned pink. Pulling away from him, she unbuttoned her coat, hanging it on wall-hook. William observed her faded blue jeans and the red button-up shirt she wore the first time she’d come to his flat. He watched her walk over to the bed; she reached out her hand and felt the blankets in a slow, even manner. Just the movements of her fingers made his mouth go dry; his bride clearly liked the feel and textures of their bed. William hurriedly unbuttoned his own coat.