The Secret

Chapter 10

"You can't just… keep me."

"Aye, he can, lass," Alex cheerfully explained.

"He's laird," Graham reminded her. "He can do anything he's wanting to do."

"It doesn't matter that he's laird," Brodick interjected. "Franklen kept Marrian and he isn't laird. Robert kept Meagan," he added with a shrug.

"I kept Isabelle," Winslow added.

"It's our way, lass," Gowrie explained.

"You didn't just keep Isabelle," Brodick told his brother, determined to set that misconception straight. "You asked for her. There's a difference."

"I would have taken her if her father had been difficult," Winslow argued.

Judith couldn't believe what she was hearing. They had all gone daft. She pulled her hands away from Iain's grasp and took a step back, away from this madness. She stepped on Graham's foot. She turned around to give him her apology.

"I'm sorry, Graham. I didn't mean to step on-He can't just keep me, can he?"

Graham nodded. "Gowrie was right when he told you it's our way," he explained. "Of course, you're going to have to agree."

His voice was filled with sympathy. Iain had given the pretty woman quite a startle. She seemed to be a little overwhelmed, but certainly thrilled with this announcement. It was the highest of honors to be chosen as wife of the laird. Aye, she was so pleased, she couldn't seem to form a coherent word of appreciation, he supposed.

Graham supposed wrong. In the space of a minute or two, Judith recovered. Then she shook her head. She might have been able to control her anger if Iain's supporters hadn't all nodded at her again.

God's truth, she wanted to kick every one of them. She'd have to quit sputtering first. She took a deep breath in an effort to gain control, then said in a hoarse voice, "Iain, might I have a word in private with you?"

"There really isn't time for chitchat now, lass," Father Laggan called out. "Merlin won't keep."

"Merlin?" she asked in confusion.

"He's a Dunbar," Graham explained. With a smile he added, "He's in need of a priest."

Judith turned to look at Father Laggan. "Then you must go to him," she said. "Is he dying?"

The priest shook his head. "He's dead, Judith. His family's waiting on me to bury him. It's the heat, you see. Merlin isn't going to keep much longer."

"Aye, he's got to get him in the ground," Brodick explained. "He'll marry you first. The Maitlands come before the Dunbars."

"Merlin won't keep?" Judith repeated the priest's explanation and put her hand to her forehead.

"The heat," Brodick reminded her.

She started trembling. Iain took mercy on her. It had taken him days of hard thought before he'd come to the conclusion that he couldn't let Judith leave. He realized now he probably should have given her more time to think about his proposal.

Unfortunately, there wasn't any time left to consider all the reasons. After talking to Patrick and confirming his own suspicions, he knew he had to marry Judith as soon as possible. He wasn't about to take the chance that someone else might find out about her father. No, he had to marry her now. It was the only way he could protect her from the bastard Macleans.

He took hold of her hand and led her over to the corner of the hall. She stumbled and he ended up half dragging her. She stood with her back against the wall. He stood in front of her, effectively blocking her view of the rest of the room.

He nudged her chin up so she would look at him. "I want you to marry me."

"No."

"Yes."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

"Iain, will you be reasonable about this? I can't marry you. Even if I wanted to, it isn't possible."

"You do want to marry me," he countered. "Don't you?"

He was staggered by the possibility that she didn't want him. He had to shake his head. "You damn well do," he told her then.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"You trust me."

The bluster went out of her anger. Of all the reasons he could have given her, he'd centered on the one she couldn't argue with. She did trust him, with all her heart.

"You feel safe with me."

She couldn't argue with that truth, either. "You know I'll protect you from harm," he added with a gentle nod.

Her eyes filled with tears. Dear God, she wished it were possible. "Do you love me, Iain?" she asked.

He leaned down and kissed her. "I have never wanted another woman the way I want you," he said. "You want me, too. Don't deny it."

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't deny it," she whispered. "But wanting and loving are two different matters. I might not love you," she added.

She knew that was a lie as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

He knew it, too. "Aye, you do love me."

A tear slipped down her cheek. "You're putting impossible thoughts in my head," she whispered.

He gently wiped the tear away. His hands cupped the sides of her face. "Nothing is impossible. Marry me, Judith. Let me protect you."

She had to tell him the truth now. Only then would he change his mind about this rash decision. "There's something you don't know about me," she began. "My father-"

His mouth covered hers, effectively stopping her confession. The kiss was long, passionate, and when he pulled back, she barely knew her own thoughts.

She tried to tell him again. He stopped her with another kiss.

"Judith, you will not tell me anything about your family," he ordered. "I don't care if your father's the king of England. You will not speak another word on the topic. Understand?"

"But Iain-"

"Your past isn't important," he told her. He took hold of her shoulders and squeezed. His voice was low, fervent. "Let it go, Judith. You're going to belong to me. I'm going to be your family. I'll take care of you."

He made it sound so appealing. Judith didn't know what to do. "I must think about this," she decided. "In a few days-"

"Good Lord," Father Laggan called out. "We can't expect Merlin to keep that long, lass. Consider the heat."

"Why wait?" Patrick called out.

"Aye, he's told you he's keeping you. Get the wedding done," Brodick said.

It wasn't until that moment that Judith realized they'd all been listening to her private talk with Iain. She felt like screaming. Then she did. "I will not be rushed into this," she told them. In a softer voice she added, "There are plenty of reasons why I shouldn't marry your laird, and I need time to consider…"

"What are these reasons?" Graham asked.

Iain turned to the leader of the council. "Are you for or against us?"

"I'm not overly pleased, of course, but you know I'll stand beside you. You have my support. Gelfrid, what about you?"

Gelfrid frowned at Judith while he gave his answer. "I'm in agreement."

The other council members, like dominoes, followed Gelfrid's voice of approval.

Judith had heard enough. "How can you give your approval and glare at me at the same time?" she demanded. She turned back to Iain and poked him in his chest. "I don't want to live here. I already made up my mind to live with my aunt Millicent and uncle Herbert. And do you know why?" She didn't give him time to answer. "They don't consider me inferior, that's why. Well?" she demanded in a challenge.

"Well, what?" Iain asked, trying not to smile over the outrage she was giving him. The woman was feisty when she was riled.

"They like me," she stammered out.

"We like you fine, Judith," Alex told her.

"Everyone does," Patrick added with a nod.

She wasn't believing that nonsense for a minute. Neither was Brodick. He gave Patrick a look that suggested he'd lost his head.

"But I don't particularly like any of you brutes," she announced. "The thought of living here is simply not acceptable. I won't raise my children-Oh, God, Iain, I'm not having any, remember?"

"Judith, calm yourself," Iain commanded. He pulled her up against him and hugged her tight.

"She's not wanting children?" Graham asked. He sounded appalled. "Iain, you can't allow that kind of talk. You need an heir."

"Is she barren?" Gelfrid called out.

"She isn't saying that," Vincent muttered.

"This is my fault," Winslow interjected.

"It's your fault the woman's barren?" Gelfrid asked, trying to understand. "How can that be, Winslow?"

Patrick started laughing. Brodick elbowed him to get him to stop. "She had to help with Isabelle's birthing," Brodick told Gelfrid. "It made her afraid. That's all there is to it. She isn't barren."

The council members grunted with relief. Iain wasn't paying any attention to anyone but Judith now. He leaned down and whispered, "You're right, you need more time to consider this proposal. Take as long as you need."

There was something in his voice that made her suspicious. She realized what it was almost immediately. Iain was vastly amused. "How long do I have to consider this proposal?"

"You're sleeping in my bed tonight. I thought you might want to be married first."

She pushed herself out of his arms and looked up at him. He was smiling. She never stood a chance. She realized that now. Lord, she did love him. And at this very moment she couldn't think of one good reason why.

They'd all made her daft. "Why in God's name do I love you?"

She hadn't realized she'd shouted her question until Patrick started laughing.

"Well now, that settles it. She's agreed," Father Laggan called out. He hurried across the hall. "Let's get it done. Patrick, you stand on Iain's right, and Graham, you put yourself next to Judith. You can give her away. In the name of the Father, and of the Son-"

"We're giving her away, too," Gelfrid announced, determined not to be left out of this important ceremony.

"Aye, we are," Duncan muttered.

The scuffle of chairs interrupted the priest's concentration. He waited until the other elders had all squeezed themselves around Judith, and then began again. "In the name of the Father-"

"You only want to marry me so you can order me around all the time," Judith told Iain.

"There is that benefit," Iain drawled out.

"I thought the Dunbars were your enemies," she said then. "Yet your priest-"

"How do you think Merlin died?" Brodick asked.

"Now, son, you can't be taking credit for that death," Graham advised. "It was the fall over the cliff that did him in."

"Winslow, didn't you do the pushing when he came at you with the knife?" Brodick asked.

His brother shook his head. "He slipped before I could get to him."

Judith was appalled by their talk. Patrick decided to answer her initial question about the priest since no one else seemed inclined. "There aren't enough men of the cloth to serve up here," he said. "Father Laggan's allowed to come and go as he pleases."

"He serves a wide area," Alex interjected, "and all the clans we consider our enemies. There are the Dunbars, the Macphersons, and the Macleans, and others, of course."

She was astonished by their list of enemies. She made that mention to Graham. She wanted to learn everything she could about the Maitlands, of course, but there was another motive, too. She needed time to collect herself. She felt as though she were in a daze. She was trembling like an infant freshly washed in cold water.

"Alex has only given you a partial list," Graham told her.

"Don't you people like anyone?" she asked, incredulous.

Graham shrugged.

"Can we get on with this?" Father Laggan cried out. "In the name of the Father…"

"I'm inviting my aunt Millicent and uncle Herbert to come for a visit, Iain, and I'm not going through the council to get permission first."

"… and of the Son," the priest continued in a much louder voice.

"She'll be wanting King John next," Duncan predicted.

"We can't allow that, lass," Owen muttered.

"Please join hands now and concentrate on this ceremony," Father Laggan shouted, trying to gain everyone's attention.

"I don't want King John to come here," Judith argued. She turned to frown at Owen for making such a shameful suggestion. "I want my aunt and uncle. I'm getting them, too." She turned and had to peek around Graham in order to look up at Iain. "Yes or no, Iain."

"We'll see. Graham, I'm marrying Judith, not you. Let go of her hand. Judith, move over here."

Father Laggan gave up trying to maintain order. He continued on with the ceremony. Iain was paying some attention. He immediately agreed to take Judith for his wife.

She wasn't as cooperative. He felt a little sorry for the sweet woman. She looked thoroughly confused.

"Judith, do you take Iain for your husband?"

She looked up at Iain before giving her answer. "We'll see."

"That won't do, lass. You've got to say I do," he advised.

"Do I?"

Iain smiled. "Your aunt and uncle will be welcomed here."

She smiled back. "Thank you."

"You've still got to answer me, Judith," Father Laggan reminded her.

"Is he going to agree to love and cherish me?" she asked.

"For the love of God, he just did," Brodick impatiently called out.

"Iain, if I stay here, I'm bound to try to make some changes."

"Now, Judith, we like things just the way they are around here," Graham told her.

"I don't like things around here," Judith said. "Iain, before we start, I want one more promise," she blurted out.

"Before we start? We're in the middle-" the priest tried to explain.

"What promise is this?" Graham asked. "The council might have need to mull it over."

"You will not mull it over," she countered. "This is a private matter. Iain?"

"Yes, Judith?"

Oh Lord, how she loved his smile. She let out a little sigh while she motioned him closer so she could whisper in his ear. Graham had to back up a space to give her room. As soon as Iain leaned down, everyone else leaned forward to listen.

They were still left guessing. Whatever she had requested of their laird had clearly surprised him, if the look on his face was any indication.

The notice naturally pricked everyone's attention.

"This is important to you?"

"Yes."

"All right," he answered. "I promise."

Judith didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until he gave her his promise. She let out a loud sigh.

Her eyes filled with tears. She was so pleased with this man. He hadn't laughed or taken insult. He didn't even make her explain. He simply asked her if it was impor tant, and when she'd told him it was, he immediately agreed.

"Did you happen to get any of that, Graham?" Alex asked in a loud whisper everyone heard.

"Something about a drink," Graham whispered back.

"She's wanting a drink?" Gelfrid bellowed.

"Nay, I caught the word drunk," Owen announced.

"Why's she wanting to get drunk?" Vincent wanted to know.

Judith tried not to laugh. She turned her attention back to Father Laggan. "I will say I do," she told him. "Shouldn't we begin now?"

"The lass has trouble following along," Vincent remarked.

Father Laggan gave the final blessing while Judith argued with the elder about his rude comment. Her concentration was just fine, she told him quite vehemently.

She nagged an apology out of Vincent before giving the priest her attention again. "Patrick, would you go and get Frances Catherine? I would like her to stand by my side during the ceremony."

"You may kiss the bride," Father Laggan announced.

Frances Catherine was pacing back and forth inside the cottage when Judith finally opened the door and walked inside.

"Thank God you're here. I've been so worried. Judith, what took so long? Tell me what happened. Are you all right? You look so pale. They upset you, didn't they?" She paused to let out an outraged gasp. "They didn't dare try to order you to go back to England, did they?"

Judith sat down at the table. "They left," she whispered.

"Who left?"

"Everyone. They just… left. Even Iain. He kissed me first. Then he left, too. I don't know where everyone went."

Frances Catherine had never seen her friend like this. Judith appeared to be in a daze. "You're frightening me, Judith. Please tell me what happened."

"I got married."

Frances Catherine had to sit down. "You got married?"

Judith nodded. She continued to stare off into space, her mind centered on the bizarre wedding ceremony.

Frances Catherine was too astonished to speak for several minutes. She sat across from Judith at the table and simply stared at her.

"Did you marry Iain?"

"I think so.'"

"What do you mean, you think so?"

"Graham was standing between us. I might have married him. No, I'm certain it was Iain. He kissed me after… Graham didn't."

Frances Catherine didn't know what to make of this news. She was thrilled, of course, because her friend would never have to go back to England, but she was also furious. Her mind concentrated on that emotion first.

"Why was it rushed? There weren't any flowers, were there? You couldn't have been married in a chapel. We don't have one. Damn it, Judith, you should have insisted Iain do it right."

"I don't know why it was so rushed," Judith admitted. "But Iain surely had his reasons. Please don't get upset about this."

"I should have been there," Frances Catherine wailed.

"Aye, you should have," Judith agreed.

Another minute passed in silence before Frances Catherine spoke again. "Are we happy about this marriage?"

Judith lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I suppose we are."

Tears filled Frances Catherine's eyes. "You deserved to have your dream come true."

Judith knew what her friend was talking about, of course. She shook her head and tried to comfort Frances Catherine. "Dreams are for little girls to whisper to each other. They don't really come true. I'm a fully grown woman now, Frances Catherine. I don't imagine impossible things."

Her friend wasn't ready to let it go. "You're forgetting who you're talking to, Judith. I know you better than anyone else in this whole world. I know all about your horrible life with your witch of a mother and your drunken uncle. I know about the pain and the loneliness. Your dreams became your shields against the hurt. You can tell me it was just your active imagination, these dreams you now pretend aren't still important, but I know better."

Her voice cracked on a sob. She took a deep breath and then continued on. "Your dreams saved you from despair. Don't you dare pretend they don't matter. I won't believe you."

"Frances Catherine, please be reasonable about this," Judith said in exasperation. "It wasn't always horrible. Millicent and Herbert balanced my life. Besides, I was very young when I thought up such silly dreams. I was only imagining what I wanted my wedding to be like. My father was there, remember? I thought the man was dead, but I still imagined him standing by my side at the back of the chapel. My husband was going to be so happy, he was going to cry. Now I ask you. Can you imagine Iain weeping over the sight of me?"

Frances Catherine couldn't help but smile. "My husband was also going to weep with gratitude. Patrick didn't. He gloated."

"I won't ever have to see my mother again."

She'd whispered that thought aloud. Frances Catherine nodded. "You won't ever have to leave me, either."

"I want you to be happy about this."

"All right. I'm happy. Now tell me exactly what happened. I want every detail."

Judith did as she was asked. By the time she was finished with the recounting, Frances Catherine was laughing. Judith was having difficulty remembering, and she kept excusing her poor memory on the fact that it had all been terribly confusing.

"I asked Iain if he loved me," she told her friend. "He didn't give me an answer. I didn't realize that until it was over and he was kissing me. He said he wanted me. I also tried to tell him about my father, but he wouldn't let me get the words out. He said it didn't matter. I was to let it alone. Those were his very words. I did try, but I'm thinking I should have tried harder."

Frances Catherine let out an unladylike snort. "Don't you start worrying about your father. We aren't ever going to mention him again. No one's going to know."

Judith nodded. "I made Iain promise me two things. Millicent and Herbert can come here for a visit."

"And the other promise?"

"Iain won't get drunk in my presence."

Frances Catherine's eyes filled with tears. She never would have thought to ask her husband such a thing, but she fully understood why Judith would be so concerned. "For as long as I've lived here, I've never seen Iain drunk."

"He'll keep his promise," Judith whispered. She let out a sigh. "I wonder where I'll sleep tonight."

"Iain will come here to get you."

"What have I gotten myself into?"

"You love him."

"Yes."

"He must love you."

"I hope he does," Judith said. "He didn't have anything else to gain. He must love me."

"Are you worried about tonight?"

"A little. Were you worried the first time?"

"I cried."

For some reason, both women found that admission hysterically funny. Patrick and Iain walked inside, both smiling over the way Frances Catherine and Judith were laughing.

Patrick wanted to know what they found so amusing. His question only made the two women laugh all the more. He finally gave up. Women, he decided, didn't make much sense.

Iain's gaze was centered on Judith. "Why are you here?" he asked.

"I wanted to tell Frances Catherine what happened. We did get married, didn't we?"

"She thinks she might have married Graham," Frances Catherine told Patrick.

Iain shook his head. He went over to his bride and pulled her to her feet. She hadn't looked at him once since he'd entered the cottage, and that notice bothered him. "It's time to go home."

Judith was filled with trepidation. "I'll just get a few of my things," she said. She kept her head bowed and started toward the back of the screen. "Where is home?" she asked.

"Where you were married," Patrick told her.

It was safe for her to grimace. No one could see her. Then she let out a sigh. She was going to have to live in the ugly keep, she supposed, but it wasn't going to bother her. Iain lived there and that was all that mattered.

Judith could hear the two brothers talking together while she gathered her sleeping gown and wrapper and other necessary items for tonight. She would collect the rest of her things tomorrow.

She had difficulty folding her nightgown and was surprised to notice her hands shook.

She finished packing the small valise but didn't leave her little sanctuary. The significance of what had taken place today was finally settling in her mind.

She sat down on the side of the bed and closed her eyes. She was a married woman. Her heart was suddenly pounding a furious beat and she could barely catch a decent breath. She knew she was beginning to panic and tried to calm herself.

Dear God, what if she had made a mistake? It had all happened so fast. Iain did love her, didn't he? It didn't matter that he hadn't given her the words. He wanted to marry her and he had absolutely nothing to gain other than a wife. What other motive could there be?

What if she couldn't fit in with these people? What if they never accepted her? Judith finally focused on her main concern. What if she couldn't be a good wife? She sure as certain didn't know how to please a man in bed. Iain would know she was inexperienced. It would be his duty to teach her, but what if she was the kind of woman who couldn't be taught?

She didn't want him to think of her as inferior. She would rather die.

"Judith?"

His voice was little more than a whisper. She still flinched. He noticed. He noticed his bride looked ready to faint, too. Judith was afraid. He thought he understood why.

"I'm ready to leave now," she told him in a voice that shivered.

She didn't move after making that announcement. Her valise was on her lap and she appeared to have a death grip on the handle. Iain hid his smile. He walked over to the bed and sat down next to her.

"Why are you sitting here?" he asked,

"I was just thinking."

"About what?"

She didn't answer him. She wouldn't look at him, but kept her gaze locked on her lap.

Iain wasn't going to rush her. He decided to act as though there was all the time in the world. They sat side by side for several minutes. Judith could hear Frances Catherine whispering to her husband. She heard the word "flowers" and thought her friend might be complaining about the lack of decorations at the wedding.

"Is it possible for me to have a bath tonight?"

"Yes."

She nodded. "Shouldn't we leave?"

"You're finished thinking?"

"Yes, thank you."

He stood up. So did she. She handed him her valise. He took hold of her hand and started for the doorway.

Frances Catherine blocked their exit. She was determined to make them stay for supper. Since everything was ready, Iain agreed. Judith was far too nervous to eat. Iain didn't have any trouble. Both he and Patrick ate like men who'd just completed the forty-day Lenten fast.

He didn't want to linger after the meal, however. Neither did Judith. They walked hand in hand up to the keep. It was dark inside. Iain led her up to the second level. His bedchamber was on the left side of the landing, the first of three doors along the narrow corridor.

The bedroom blazed with light and warmth. The hearth faced the door. A fire burned bright, effectively heating the area. Iain's bed was to the left of the doorway. It took up a fair portion of the wall. A quilt, made of the colors of his clan, covered the bed, and a small chest with two candles on top was next to the wall.

There was only one chair in the room, near the hearth. Another chest, much larger and taller than the one by the bed, was on the opposite wall. An ornate, gold-rimmed square box sat on top of the chest.

Iain wasn't much for clutter, she decided. The room was functional, efficient, and very like the man who slept here.

There was a large wooden tub directly in front of the fireplace. Steam filtered up from the water. Iain had thoughtfully anticipated her request for a bath even before she'd asked him.

He tossed her valise on the bed. "Is there anything else you need?"

She needed not to be afraid, but she didn't tell him that. "No, thank you."

She continued to stand in the center of the room, her hands folded together, waiting and praying he would leave so she could have her bath in privacy.

He wondered why she was hesitating to get the chore done. "Do you need help getting undressed?" he asked.

"No," she blurted out, appalled by the very idea. "I remember how," she added in a calmer voice.

He nodded, then motioned with the crook of his finger for her to come to him. She didn't hesitate. She stopped when she was just a foot away.

He was pleased she didn't flinch when he reached for her. He lifted her hair back over her shoulder, then slipped his fingers in around the neckline of her gown to catch hold of her chain.

He didn't say a word until he'd removed the chain and ring.

"Do you remember the promises you gained from me today?"

She nodded. Dear God, he wasn't going to tell her he'd changed his mind, was he?

He saw the look of panic on her face and shook his head. "I have never broken my word before, Judith, and I won't break it now." His guess had been proven correct. The fear immediately left her gaze. "If you knew me better, you never would have had that worry."

"But I don't know you better," she whispered, excusing her behavior.

"I have a promise I want you to give me," he explained. He dropped the chain and ring into her hand. "I don't want you to wear this to bed."

It didn't sound like a request to her, but an order. He didn't explain his reasons either. Judith was about to ask him why he would want such a promise, then changed her mind. He hadn't made her explain why she wanted him to promise he'd never get sotted when he was with her, and he deserved to receive the very same consideration.

"I agree."

He nodded. He looked satisfied.

"Do you want me to throw it away?"

"No," he answered. "Put it in there," he told her, motioning to the small box on top of the chest. "No one will bother it."

She hurried to do what he suggested. "May I keep the brooch my aunt Millicent gave me in here, too?" she asked. "I wouldn't want to lose it."

He didn't answer her. She turned around and only then realized that he had left the room. He hadn't made a sound.

She shook her head. She must have a talk with him about his rude habit of disappearing like that, she decided.

Since she didn't have any idea how long he planned to stay away, she hurried through her bath. She wasn't planning to wash her hair, but then changed her mind.

Iain opened the door while she was rinsing the rose-scented soap from her hair. He got a glimpse of golden skin before he pulled the door closed again. He leaned against the wall and waited for his bride to finish.

He didn't want to embarrass her. The woman was taking forever, though. He had walked a fair distance to the water basin, washed, and then walked back, fully expecting that his bride would be waiting in bed for him.

He waited another fifteen minutes, then went inside. Judith was sitting on a blanket on the floor directly in front of the hearth, diligently drying her hair. She wore a prim white nightgown and matching robe.

She looked absolutely beautiful to him. Her face was scrubbed pink everywhere and her hair was the color of pale gold.

Iain leaned against the door frame for several minutes, just staring at her. A tightness settled in his chest. She was his wife. Aye, she belonged to him now. A feeling of contentment swept over him, catching him by surprise. It all seemed so inevitable to him. Why had he put himself through the torment of trying to stay away from her? From the moment he first kissed her, he should have accepted the truth. His heart had always known he would never let another man have her. Why had it taken his mind so long to accept?

Matters of the heart were damn confusing, he decided. He remembered how he'd boasted to Patrick that one woman was just as good as another. He understood the blasphemy in that arrogant remark now. There was only one Judith.

Iain shook himself out of his foolish thoughts. He was a warrior. He shouldn't be thinking about such inconsequential things.

He turned around to go back into the hall and then let out a shrill whistle. The sound echoed down the stairs. Iain came back into the room and walked over to the hearth. He leaned against the mantel, not two feet away from his bride, and pulled his boots off.

She was about to ask him why he'd left the door open when three men came hurrying inside. They nodded to their laird, crossed the chamber and lifted the tub. They were quite deliberate in keeping their gazes away from Judith while they carried the heavy tub out of the room.

Iain followed them to the door and was about to shut it when someone shouted his name. He let out a sigh and left the chamber again.

He didn't come back for almost an hour. The heat from the fire had made Judith sleepy. Her hair was just a little damp now and most of the curl was back. She stood up, put her brush back on the mantel, and went over to the side of the bed. She was removing her robe when Iain came back inside.

He shut the door, bolted it, and then took off his plaid. He wasn't wearing anything underneath.

She thought she was going to die of embarrassment then and there. She turned her gaze to the center beam in the ceiling, but not before she had gotten a rather healthy glimpse of him. No wonder Frances Catherine had cried on her wedding night. If Patrick was fashioned anything like Iain was, and she was guessing he probably was, she could well understand weeping. God's truth, her eyes were already getting misty. Oh Lord, she really wasn't prepared for this. She had made a mistake after all. No, no, she wasn't ready for this kind of intimacy. She didn't know him well enough… she never should have-

"It's going to be all right, Judith."

He was standing right in front of her. She wouldn't look at him. He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze. "It really will be all right. You trust me, don't you?"

His voice was filled with tenderness. It didn't help. She took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. That didn't help either.

And then he pulled her into his arms and held her tight. She let out a little sigh and settled down. It was going to be all right. Iain wouldn't hurt her. He loved her.

She leaned a little away so she could look up into his eyes. There was such warmth there, a little amusement, too.

"Don't be afraid," he told her, his voice a soothing whisper.

"How do you know I'm afraid?"

He smiled. "Afraid" wasn't quite the right word, he decided. "Terrified" was a far more accurate description. "You have the same expression on your face you had the night I told you Isabelle wanted you to help her deliver her son."

She turned her gaze to his chest. "I didn't want to help because I was afraid I wouldn't be able to… Iain, I don't believe I want to do this, either. I know it will be all right, but I still would rather not-"

Judith didn't finish her confession. She went back into his arms and rested against him.

Iain was pleased she was able to be honest with him, but he was frustrated, too. He had never taken a virgin to his bed, and he hadn't realized until this minute how important it was going to be to make it as easy as possible for her. It was going to require time, patience, and a good deal of stamina.

"Exactly what is it you're afraid of?" he asked. She didn't answer him. She was trembling now, and he knew it wasn't from cold. "There will be pain, of course, but if I-"

"I'm not afraid of the pain." She'd blurted out that announcement. He was more thoroughly puzzled now. "Then what are you afraid of?" He started rubbing her back while he waited for her to answer him.

"A man can always… you know," she stammered out. "But some women can't, and if I'm one of those women, then I'll disappoint you."

"You won't disappoint me."

"I really do believe I will," she whispered. "I think I'm one of the ones who can't, Iain."

"You can," he told her with great authority. He wasn't at all certain exactly what she was talking about, but it seemed to be important to her, and she certainly needed his confidence now. He was the experienced one, after all, and he knew she would believe whatever he told her. He kept stroking her back. Judith closed her eyes and let him soothe her. He was surely the most considerate man in the world, and when he was being so gentle with her, she couldn't help but love him.

It didn't take her long to get over her fear. She was still a bit nervous, of course, but she didn't think that was unusual. She took a deep breath, then pulled away from Iain. She couldn't look at him and she knew she was blushing, but that didn't stop her. She slowly lifted her gown up and over her head. Then she tossed it on the bed. She didn't give him time to look at her either. The second her gown was discarded, she rushed back into his arms.

He visibly shuddered. "You feel so good against me," he whispered, his voice gruff with emotion.

It felt much better than good to her. It felt wonderful. In a shy, halting voice, she told him so.

His chin dropped to rest on the top of her head. "You please me, Judith."

"I haven't done anything yet," she replied.

"You don't need to do anything," he explained.

She could hear the laughter in his voice. She smiled in reaction. By not rushing her, Iain was actually helping her get past her embarrassment. She knew that was his plan, and it didn't even matter that it was deliberate. His consideration for her feelings fairly overwhelmed her. She didn't even think she was blushing any longer.

The heat of his hard arousal pressed so intimately against her lower belly still worried her, but Iain wasn't being at all demanding, just gentle, terribly gentle as he slowly caressed her shivers away, and it didn't take long for that worry to seem unimportant.

She wanted to touch him. She let go of her hard grip around his waist and tentatively stroked his broad shoulders, then his back, and finally his thighs. His skin felt like hot steel against her fingertips. He was so completely different in texture and tone from her, and she found herself marveling over all the wonderful differences. His muscles were like knotted rope along his upper arms, and in comparison she was built like a weakling.

"You're so strong, Iain, and I'm so weak. It seems strange to me that I would please you."

He laughed. "You aren't weak. You're soft and smooth and very, very appealing."

She blushed with pleasure over his praise. She rubbed her face against his chest, smiling over the way his crisp hair tickled her nose. She leaned up and kissed him where the pulse beat at the base of his neck.

"I do like touching you," she admitted.

She sounded surprised by her own admission. Iain wasn't. He already knew she liked to touch him. He liked it, too. One of her most appealing traits was her desire to touch, to stroke, to hold him whenever possible. He thought about all the times she'd instinctively taken hold of his hand, the way she'd caressed his arm while she gave him hell about an opinion of his she had taken exception to.

She had very few inhibitions when she was with him… but only with him. Aye, he had noticed how reserved she was with his soldiers on the journey here. She was very pleasant, of course, but she went out of her way to avoid touching any of them. She never relaxed in Alex's arms when she had been forced to ride with him, yet she'd fallen asleep in his arms. She trusted him completely, and that fact was every bit as important to him as her love.

And Lord, she really did love him.

"Judith?"

"Yes?"

"Are you ready to quit hiding from me?"

She almost laughed. She had been hiding from him, and he'd known that was her game all along. She let go of her hold on him and took a step back, away from him. Then she looked up into his eyes and slowly nodded.

He had the most wonderful smile. She thought about that while she stared up at him. She had the most magnificent body he'd ever seen. He thought about that while he stared at her. She was exquisitely formed, from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet, and Lord, if he didn't get to touch her soon, to make her completely his, he knew he would lose his mind.

They reached for each other at the same moment. She put her arms around his neck as he cupped her backside and pulled her up against him.

He leaned down and kissed her, a deep, devouring kiss that left both of them breathless. His tongue moved inside to taste the sweetness she offered. A low growl of satisfaction came from the back of his throat when she imitated the erotic love play and rubbed her tongue against his.

She sagged against him. Iain kept one arm around her to keep her from falling down as he turned and leaned down to pull the covers back. She didn't want him to quit kissing her. She tugged on his hair at the back of his neck to get his attention and leaned up to kiss him when he didn't respond quick enough.

He liked her boldness. He liked the little moans she made, too. Iain lifted her into his arms and put her in the center of the bed. He didn't give her time to start worrying. He came down on top of her, separating her thighs with one of his own. He braced his weight on his elbows and let his body cover hers completely. And God, he had never felt anything this wonderful in all of his life.

Her response to him was overwhelming his desire to go slow, to take his time preparing her for his invasion. He needed to concentrate on what he was doing, to be deliberate in where and how he touched her, until she wasn't able to think, but only feel the pleasure. Judith was making his thoughtful, calculated plan impossible. She was restlessly moving against him, driving him to distraction. He kissed her again, a long, hot, wet kiss that made him wild for more. He finally dragged his mouth away from hers and moved lower to taste the fragrant valley between her soft breasts. His hands stroked, caressed, teased, and finally, when he couldn't wait a second longer, he took one nipple into his mouth and began to suckle.

She almost came off the bed. Tremors of raw pleasure coursed through her body. She didn't think she could take much more of this sweet torture. She clung to his shoulders and closed her eyes in surrender to the ecstasy he was giving her.

Iain was shaking with his need to take her. He could feel his control slipping away. His desire to taste all of her overwhelmed every other consideration. His hands stroked a path down the flat of her stomach, then lower still until he was caressing her inner thighs and slowly easing them apart. He leaned down and kissed the top of the soft triangle of curls shielding her virginity.

"Iain, don't-"

"Yes."

She tried to push him away from her, but then his mouth covered the very heat of her, and his tongue, dear God, his tongue was rubbing against her, and she became consumed with white-hot pleasure so intense, she forgot all about protesting.

Her hips instinctively rose up for more of his touch. Her nails dug into his shoulder blades. She had never known a man could make love to a woman in this intimate way, but she wasn't at all appalled or embarrassed now. She wanted to touch him the way he was touching her, to learn his taste, too, but every time she tried to move, he'd tighten his hold and make her stay put.

Iain shifted to his side and slowly eased his finger up inside her tight sheath. His thumb rubbed the delicate nub hidden between the folds, and Judith's reaction damn near snapped his own control. He'd never had a woman respond to him with such honesty or with such abandon. Her trust in him was so complete, she was free of all inhibitions. She willingly, lovingly, gave him her body, and he would die before letting himself find fulfillment first. She came before his own need… even if it killed him.

Loving him was certainly going to kill her. That was Judith's last coherent thought. She'd blurted it out loud, too, but she was too caught up in trying to hold on to the threads of her control to know what she was saying or doing.

She seemed to come apart inside. She cried out his name, and his own discipline vanished then. He felt her tremors and spread her thighs wider. He knelt between her legs. "Put your arms around me, sweetheart," he whispered in a husky demand. He stretched up, covered her mouth with his, and forced her to stay still by holding the sides of her hips.

He hesitated at the threshold for only a second or two, then slowly eased up inside her until he felt the barrier of her virginity.

He was hurting her, but Judith didn't think this was such a terrible pain. The way he was kissing her made everything else seem unimportant. The pressure building inside her ached,-and she became even more restless in a bid to find a way to ease the sweet torment.

Iain gritted his teeth against the incredible pleasure he was already feeling and the certain pain he was going to force on her, and then drove forward with one powerful thrust.

She cried out in surprise and pain. She thought he had torn her apart. It felt as if he had. The haze of passion vanished. She started crying, and demanded that he leave her alone.

"I don't like this," she whispered.

"Hush, sweetheart," he whispered, trying to soothe her. "It's going to be all right. Don't move yet. The pain will ease. Oh, God, Judith, don't try to move."

He sounded angry and loving, and she wasn't able to understand anything he was saying to her. The pain throbbed, but another feeling, so foreign to anything she had ever experienced before, began to blend with the pain, confusing her even more.

His weight kept her anchored to the bed and to him. He took deep, calming breaths in an effort to hold on to his discipline. She was so damn hot and tight, and all he wanted to think about was slamming into her again and again until he found his own release.

Iain leaned up on his elbows and kissed her again. He desperately wanted to give her enough time to adjust to him, and he felt like the lowest of animals when he saw the tears streaming down her face.

"God, Judith, I'm sorry. I had to hurt you, but I…"

The worry in his gaze soothed her far more than his half-given apology did. She reached up and stroked the side of his face. Her hand shook. "It's going to be all right," she whispered, giving him the very same promise he'd given her minutes earlier. "The pain's gone now." He knew she wasn't telling the truth. He kissed her brow, then the bridge of her nose, and finally captured her mouth for a long, passionate kiss. His hand moved between their joined bodies and he began to stroke the very heat of her.

It didn't take him long to rekindle her desire. He started to move, slowly at first, until he heard her moan of pleasure, and still he was able to hold back that thread of control he always withheld when he had been with other women, but Judith snatched that away from him with one simple declaration. "I love you, Iain."

Passion took control of his mind and his body. He thrust deep inside her, again and again. She lifted her hips to take more of him. She wouldn't let him be gentle any longer, nay, her nails dug into his shoulders, demanding more and more of this incredible bliss.

Iain buried his face in the crook of her neck, gritting against the white-hot pleasure consuming him.

The pressure building inside her was becoming unbearable. Just when she was certain she was going to die from the intensity of the feelings flooding her senses, he became even more forceful, more demanding.

Judith kept trying to understand what was happening to her. Iain wasn't letting her. She was suddenly terrified. She felt as though her mind was being separated from her body and her soul. "Iain, I don't-"

"Hush, love," he whispered. "Just hold me. I'll take care of you."

Her mind accepted what her heart had always known. Judith surrendered. It was the most magical experience of her life. Bliss such as she'd never known filled her. She arched her back and clung to her husband and let the ecstasy consume her.

As soon as he felt her release, Iain found his own. With a low groan he poured his seed into her. His entire body shuddered with his own surrender.

He collapsed against her with a grunt of male satisfaction. The scent of their lovemaking filled the air between them, a lingering reminder of the wonder they had just shared. Iain's heart hammered like a drumbeat, and he was so amazed by his absolute surrender to her, he couldn't move. He wanted to stay inside her forever. She was stroking his shoulders and sighing every now and then, and he wanted that to go on forever.

Dear God, he was content.

It took Judith much longer to recover for their lovemaking. She couldn't seem to quit touching him. She had at least a hundred questions to ask him. The first, and surely the most important, was to find out if she had pleased him.

She poked him in his shoulder to get his attention. He thought she was letting him know he was too heavy for her. He immediately rolled to his side. She rolled with him.

His eyes were closed. "Iain, did I please you?"

He grinned.

It wasn't enough. She needed to hear the words.

He opened his eyes, found her staring down at him. She looked worried. "How can you doubt you pleased me?" he asked.

He didn't give her time to come up with a reason. He wrapped his arms around her, lifted her to rest on top of him, and kissed her soundly.

"If you had pleased me any more, you would have killed me. Satisfied now?"

She closed her eyes and tucked her head under his chin.

Aye, she was very satisfied.