Tyler, Lynn - For Her Honor [For Her] (Siren Publishing Classic) (14 page)

Anna nodded as well and rubbed her back as if it pained her. “Thank you, my lady,” she said, smiling gratefully. “My Rowan is mighty scared for me. The midwife thinks the babe will be large.”

Jocelyn smiled at the girl and patted her hand. “Aye, the babe may be large, but many women have born large children and gone on to have many more.”

Irritated, Robbie drained his mug and signaled for another. This should have been a night of loving, of passion. He should be sneaking her off to their room and kissing her. He should have her on his bed, watching her body arch for his and hearing his name fall from her lips. Instead he sat stiffly by her side as she smiled at anyone who approached.

A strong hand landed on his shoulder, and he heard Will’s voice close to his ear. “Better go easy on the whisky, brother. You know it does not sit well with you.”

Robbie ignored him as Anna moved back to her husband, tossing Robbie a shy smile as she passed in front of him. Robbie stared pensively into his drink. He pictured Jocelyn ripe with his child. He would be the best of husbands should his wife fall pregnant, he decided. He would wait on her every minute of every day. He would see to it she got whatever she wanted. He would be there to rub her back when it hurt.

The image of Jocelyn cradling a tiny babe to her breast fired his blood and sent his heart racing. Besides, wasn’t that the very reason he had married her in the first place?

Deciding there was no time like the present to begin a family, he drained the last of his mead and made to grab his wife’s shoulder. The room spun wildly, and he clutched at the back of Jocelyn’s chair as he tried desperately to remain on his feet. He had consumed more whisky than he had intended. Indeed, it did not sit well with him. It never had. In fact, he rarely drank more than a cup of the stuff for this exact reason.

Will’s hand tightened on Robbie’s shoulder as he managed to keep him from falling flat on his face without bringing attention to the fact that Robbie was having trouble standing, let alone walking. Jamie appeared out of nowhere and grasped Robbie’s elbow.

He heard Jamie speak quietly to Jocelyn, warning her not to come to their chamber for at least half an hour, before he felt them guide him out off the hall. Somehow they managed to get him to his bedchamber without causing any suspicion among his people.

Robbie hated showing any weakness, and he was grateful his brothers had convinced everyone they were simply going to have one last drink together as “single” men before Robbie claimed his wife. The three of them knew he wouldn’t be claiming anything on this night.

His stomach lurched and he felt the contents of his stomach begin to make an exit the way they had gone down. He stumbled as he pitched forward in a desperate attempt at retrieving the chamber pot before he vomited up his supper. Will’s firm grip prevented Robbie from hurtling headlong onto the stone floor as he retched miserably into the chamber pot Jamie had placed under him.

Cursing everything from the whisky to the servant who had kept him supplied with it, Robbie emptied his stomach of its contents before collapsing onto the bed. He bit back moans of pain as his head throbbed and his stomach clenched.

He should have known better. His brothers quickly and efficiently stripped off his soiled clothing, wiped down his clammy body with damp rags, and poured cup after cup of cool, clean water down his throat.

“Why did you drink so much?” Will asked.

Robbie closed his eyes and willed the room to stop spinning. “To get through the night,” he muttered through clenched teeth. He was afraid if he opened his mouth too wide, the breakfast he had eaten that morning would make an appearance.

Will stared at him, confusion blooming on his face. “She was right to run from me,” Robbie explained, well aware he was slurring his words. “Why would a lass ever want to wake up next to a murderer every morning?”

Jamie produced laudanum, and Robbie quickly drank it down, eagerly waiting for the arms of sleep to welcome him. He pictured Jocelyn’s beautiful face contorting with pleasure and nearly felt it as he saw himself sink deep into her willing body.

He imagined holding Jocelyn in his arms, cherishing the small bundle of woman as he fell asleep. He cursed the whisky once more for taking his wedding night away from him before the laudanum hit and his eyes closed.

* * * *

Jocelyn watched her new husband stagger away with his brothers and felt her heart sink. Robbie had been sucking back anything with alcohol since the minute the feast had started. She was well aware of his body swaying when he had stood up, and she knew he was drunk. Did he really find the thought of bedding her so repulsive?

She could have sworn he had truly wanted her back in his bedchamber. But he had not taken her virginity. Perhaps he was merely imagining her as another when he pleasured her. Perhaps the idea of consummating their marriage was so abhorrent to him he needed to use drink to distance himself from the deed.

Whatever the cause, he had left her here alone, to sit in shame at the head table while he and his brothers went off to mourn the loss of his previously unmarried life. Pushing aside the shame, she let a hot wash of anger roll through her, and she stood up, determined to go and get this night over with.

“My lady!” one of the women called out. “Where are you going?”

Sighing, Jocelyn fought back the humiliation prickling at her because she had to initiate the bedding process herself. “I am to bed,” she answered.

A grim silence settled over the crowd, and she couldn’t help but notice the fear crossing any number of faces.

“Ah,” Sarah said as she rose from her own seat. “Of course.” Clapping her hands, Sarah signaled to several other women and led the lot of them down the hall and up the stairs toward Robbie’s chamber.

They stopped at the door and twittered nervously. “Oh, really,” Jocelyn burst out, unable to stand the somber atmosphere that had intensified as they had gotten closer to the chamber door. “You would think I was off to a funeral.”

She slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the words left her lips when it suddenly dawned on her the women thought she was heading into her own death. “You cannot seriously believe your laird murdered his first wife on their wedding night,” she said incredulously.

She blew out a frustrated breath when her statement was met with nothing but silence. “What makes you all think he did such a thing?”

“Well,” said one of the women, “he has never denied the accusation. Even when the rumors were the worst, he never denied them.”

Before she could reprimand the woman for believing simple rumors she remembered she had listened and believed to the rumors herself. And how many people had listened to and believed the rumor she had spread about herself?

The door swung open just enough for Jamie to squeeze through. “Ladies, please leave us. The laird wishes for privacy.”

The women shifted restlessly. “Who will oversee the bedding ceremony?” one asked.

“Will and I will see to it. Now, you all can leave.”

The women left, muttering under their breath. “Of course the laird wishes for privacy,” one whispered rather loudly. “All the better to murder his new wife.”

Jamie scowled at their backs as they retreated and turned to face her. “Are you scared?” he asked. A mutinous look crossed his face, as if daring her to acknowledge she was scared to be alone with her husband.

“Nay,” she shot back, fully intending to give as good as she got. “I do not believe him to be a murderer.”

Jamie’s face relaxed, turning to surprise with her next statement.

“I am, however, absolutely furious with the three of you. Do you know how humiliating it is to be left sitting below alone while my husband struggles to resign himself to our wedding night?”

Amusement flickered in Jamie’s eyes as he opened the door again and motioned for her to follow him in. “Not as humiliating as Robbie would have found it should his current predicament become known.”

“What are you going on about now?” she asked irritably.

She glanced around the room and was greeted by the sight of her other brother-in-law refilling a cup of water and placing it at the small table beside the bed where her husband was lying. Unconscious. She rushed over to him, climbing onto the bed and crawling across it to sit next to him. “What has happened to him?” she asked. He was pale, and his skin was cold and clammy. He slept deeply and didn’t respond to any sort of stimulation. Dread ran through her. What if she couldn’t heal him?

“It is all right,” Will said with a small smile. “We gave him some laudanum. He will sleep deeply until morning.”

Sitting back a little, she was relieved to know he would indeed wake up again. “Why did you give him laudanum? He has been drinking heavily. Do you not know that such a combination can be dangerous?” she questioned, her relief making her tone more sharp than she meant.

Jamie let the grin he had been attempting to hide break out. “Robbie cannot hold his liquor and laudanum has never hurt him before.”

Jocelyn shook her head. “He was so disgusted at the thought of bedding me, he drank himself into a stupor and then you go and try to poison him.”

Jamie’s grin melted, and he looked at her fiercely. “Perhaps he was drinking because of other reasons. Perhaps because a certain female ran for the nunnery rather than be married to him.”

Jocelyn stiffened at the accusation. “I am not a piece of property to be bartered away,” she replied furiously. “It would do you all some good to remember that.”

The men gazed at her for a few minutes before bustling around the room again. Will shoved the linens, which had bunched up under Robbie’s knees, back and drew them over his legs.

Drawing out his sword, he scored a line along his hand and smeared the blood over the sheets. Well aware they were trying to preserve Robbie’s image by faking evidence of the wedding night, Jocelyn waited until he had finished before speaking. “You have never bedded a virgin before?” she asked.

Will met her eyes frankly. “No. Why do you ask?”

Jocelyn let a rueful little smile play along the corners of her mouth as she grabbed his hand and wrapped it with a spare bit of clean linen she had meant to use as a handkerchief. “There is far too much blood. By God, man. I would be bleeding dry if one were to go by that amount.”

“How do you know such things?” Jamie asked.

She shooed them to the door. “I have five sisters, and I have seen the linens after each of their wedding nights.”

Opening the door, she looked at them pointedly until they were in the hall. “I will care for him,” she said briskly. “It is nothing I have not seen before.”

She shut the door in their faces before leaning her forehead against the wood. Taking a deep, calming breath, she willed her body to settle. She was torn between anger that Robbie would humiliate her by leaving her at the table, by affection for her brothers-in-law, and amusement.

A heavy fist pounded on the door and didn’t stop until she poked her head out. Jamie stood on the other side, grinning madly. “What?” she snapped, rubbing her forehead fretfully.

“He will be a bear in the morning,” Jamie said. “I thought I had better warn you.”

Without another word, she shut the door again, scowling at it when she heard Jamie laugh loudly.

The exhaustion of the trip abruptly caught up with her, and her body suddenly felt leaden. She frowned at her small sack of clothing on the dresser, suddenly remembering she hadn’t thought to pack anything to sleep in.

She detested the thought of having to sleep in the dratted gown. She gazed at her sleeping husband thoughtfully. He was tall. Tall enough so that one of his tunics would settle around her knees.

Creeping quietly over to the chest she had spied earlier in the corner, she rummaged around in its depths until she came across a suitable tunic.

Tugging it on over her head, she tied the laces loosely and slipped into the huge bed. Despite the distance between them, and the fact that he slept the sleep of the drugged, Robbie seemed to know exactly where she was. Rolling so he was on his side, he pulled her against him, not stopping until her back was pressed against his chest and her head was tucked securely under his chin. Her bottom was cradled in the bend of his hips and thighs, and he sighed as he threw a heavy arm around her middle.

Not having any other choice, or so she told herself, she gave into him and relaxed. His soft breath fluttering the hair at the top of her head soothed her, and she felt herself losing the battle to stay awake.

She stared down at his strong, tanned hand where it laid on her belly and imagined those long fingers doing wicked things to her. She stared into the darkness as her eyes grew heavy, resigning herself to a night of restless dreams.

Chapter
10

The first thing Robbie noticed upon waking was his pounding head and clenching stomach. It wasn’t until he tried to breathe deeply to ease his nausea that he realized something weighed down his chest.

He stilled and wracked his brain as to what might be causing the odd sensation before feeling slim, warm fingers slide across his belly and silky skin shift on his thigh.

The memory of the events of the day before came roaring back, and he swore silently. What must his new bride think of him now?