head and looked up at him, her young bosom rising and falling with her emotions. “It means naught, my lord. I dinna want it to mean naught. I never thought to wed, but this shouldna be for naught. I know I make no sense!” And she began to sob.
“Ah, Flanna, my fierce wife,” Patrick Leslie said gently, “ ’tis nae for naught. Do ye nae know how I cherish and esteem the gift ye are about to gie me? Ye hae guarded yer prize yer whole life, and I am honored that I shall be the sole recipient of it. ’Tis nae for naught, lassie. No bride could bring her husband, be he shepherd or king, a more precious gift than that of her virginity. ’Tis nae for naught. I honor ye for it, Flanna Leslie.”
“And Brae?” she demanded softly.
“Brae is yer dower, Flanna,” he replied.
“Ye want it more than me,” she said. “Ye would hae had it for gold but that my father wouldna sell it to ye.”
“Aye,” he agreed, “but I wanted it enough to want ye as well, lassie, and ye are about to gie me a bonus that is worth more gold than there is in the entire world.”
“Oh!” His words touched her.
“I want ye, Flanna Leslie,” he whispered, leaning over to nibble on her earlobe. “I want to join my body wi’ yers and gie us pleasure. Ye hae never known the kind of pleasure I will gie ye.” The tip of his tongue swept around the whorl of her ear.
“Ye’re sly as a fox, and yer words are as smooth as the waters of the loch,” she told him, regaining her courage as she spoke, a frisson of excitement running down her spine
“We must stay in this chamber until the deed is done, lassie,” he told her. “Surely ye dinna want to remain here the rest of our lives. Ye’ll love Glenkirk, Flanna. And, ye’ll be free of yer da and brothers.”
“Will ye let me refurbish yer castle so I may make it my own?” she boldly asked him.
He chuckled, a warm and rich sound. “’Tis ye, madame, I think, who is the sly one. Aye, ye may hae yer way wi’ my coffers,” he answered her. His manhood was hard as iron, and if he didn’t plunge it into the hot velvet of her sheath soon, he would burst. She had, indeed, engaged his lust to the point where rapine was a possibility.
“Kiss me, then, my lord, in token of yer pledge,” she whispered to him, sliding her arms about his neck and drawing him forward so that her full breasts were crushed against his chest. “I will try nae to be afraid, and ye will go gently wi’ me.”
His lips met hers in a scorching kiss, his mouth pressing hard against hers in an effort to divert her as his knee levered her thighs wide apart. They were both panting; he with desire, Flanna with her nervousness. She was not so deterred that she did not feel him position his manhood and push slowly, gently into her body. Her breath came faster as he filled her, and she remembered Una’s words.
Lie quietly, and let him do all the work.
But she couldn’t lie quietly. Her untutored body wanted to find his rhythm and move with him. When he stopped his forward movement, she was puzzled. “What is it?” she whispered to him.
“’Twill hurt,” he said, and then before she might question him further, he drew back and then plunged deeply into her.
Flanna cried out. Una’s voice rang in her head.
It will hurt ye a bit when he goes into ye the first time, but ’tis a momentary discomfort.
But this was no mere discomfort. She cried out again as he thrust once more, but this time he managed to break through whatever had been impeding his progress. Hot pain radiated up into her chest, making it almost impossible to draw a breath, and down into her thighs, making them seem leaden. He lay quietly now upon her, and gradually the hurt began to ease.
“Ye’re a brave lass,” he murmured into her ear, and then he began to move upon her.
She stiffened, bracing herself for further punishment, but to her surprise and relief there was none. Only the strong drive of his loins as he propelled his manhood within her hot sheath. She was suddenly caught up in the cadence of his rhythm. She began to move with him, and after a moment or two an odd heat began to infuse her body with such a honeyed sweetness she didn’t think she could bear it. “Ohh! Ahhh! Ahhhh, ’tis lovely,” she half sobbed.
He groaned so loudly that she thought him injured, but he ceased his movement, stiffening, then shuddering. She felt the hardness within her dissolve and cried out softly with the loss. There had been some small pleasure after the pain. Una had been right. He rolled off of her, parting, and lay silent upon his back for a time. Flanna lay beside him, a sudden feeling of loss overwhelming her. She began to weep softly, and Patrick Leslie, astounded by the passionate lust she had aroused in him, gathered his bride into his arms.
“There, lambkin, ye were braw, and ye gave me much pleasure. I gave ye pleasure, too, for ye told me so.” He stroked her silken head. “Dinna greet now, lassie. ’Tis over and done wi’. I will nae hurt ye again, Flanna Leslie. Sleep now.” He kissed the top of her head.
She was astounded by the comfort his arms about her and the small kiss gave her. Surprised she should be such a foolish creature and weep like every female she had always scorned. Still, she snuggled into his embrace, reveling in the masculine scent of him, and closed her eyes.
Patrick smiled in the darkness as he felt her relax against him and her breathing grow even as sleep overcame her. He had married her for her lands, but perhaps he had gotten more of a bargain than he anticipated.
Outside the bedchamber door, Lachlann Brodie smiled triumphantly at his eldest son, Aulay. “ ’Tis done,” the old man said, satisfied. “He canna deny her now.”
Chapter 4
“Lady! Lady!”
Her arm was being pulled insistently. Flanna slowly awoke, swimming up from the depths of a very deep sleep.
“Lady!” Aggie’s young voice pleaded with her.
“What is it?” Flanna finally managed to say, but her eyes were still tightly shut. She burrowed back down into the featherbed.
“Yer husband says ye must arise. He would be gone as soon as possible, lady,” Aggie said. “A storm is brewing and threatens to be a hard one. Angus and I are ready to leave. We only wait on ye. The old man wants the bedsheet, lady.”
Her husband? Her husband! The events of the previous day and night crashed down upon her. “Bring me hot water,” she said, rolling over, drawing the coverlet with her to cover her nakedness.
“I already hae,” Aggie answered, “and I hae laid out clean clothing for ye, lady.”
Flanna arose, and Aggie blushed at her mistress’s nudity. Ignoring her, Flanna said, “Take the sheet to my father and tell him the marriage has been well and truly consummated. Then bring me something to eat. I’ll nae go down into the hall to be leered at by the whole damned family. When I leave this chamber, I will leave Killiecairn. Tell my lord to eat while he can, Aggie.”
Her eyes widened at the large, bloody stain on the bedsheet she had just removed from the bed, Aggie nodded silently and hurried off.
Flanna looked about the room. There was nothing to indicate Patrick Leslie had ever been there. But he had. She smiled to herself. The coupling was one part of marriage she was going to enjoy, particularly when she finally learned how to do her part to please him. He was a strange man, her husband. Proud to the point of arrogance, but kind. Flanna knew Patrick Leslie had, indeed, been kind to her last night. He might have put her on her back and taken her virginity coldly. Instead, he had tried to ease her fears and make the experience a pleasant one for her. She was grateful and would tell him so. She had never thought to be a wife. She hadn’t really ever wanted to marry, but now she was wedded and bedded. Still, Patrick had promised not to enslave her like her brothers’ wives.
“I must be a good wife,” she said softly