Page 22 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
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Murdoch was enjoying his evening time with Finn, the bairn fast asleep and content in his arms, when a quiet rapping on the door startled him out of his reverie. A wave of irritation washed over him. Tt intensified as the door creaked open. “I said I wasnae to be disturbed unless the castle is afire or there’s an enemy storming the gates.”
His voice was harsh, for all that he kept it low to avoid waking Finn. Even as careful as he was, some measure of his frustration must have seeped through, for the bairn frowned and stirred fretfully in his sleep. Murdoch hurried to soothe the sleeping child, even as he turned around to glare at whoever was intruding on his privacy and his rare moment of peace and quiet.
He wasn’t expecting to see Lydia, standing there with a plate of food and a wine goblet. He blinked in surprise. When she didn’t disappear, he found his voice again. “What are ye doing here?”
Lydia’s answer was slow in coming. She seemed startled and a tad embarrassed, her eyes darting from Finn’s closed eyes to Murdoch’s face and back again. Even in the dimmed light of the study, he could see a faint blush suffusing her cheeks. “I…me apologies, me Laird. I dinnae intend to intrude…”
While it would certainly have been a very unwelcome intrusion by anyone else, Lydia’s presence stirred conflicting feelings in him. A part of him begrudged her presence. However, another part of him awoke and whispered that she was his betrothed and would soon be Finn’s mother. As such, her arrival was something to be approved of and encouraged.
He shook his head as she started to turn away. “Nay. Ye daenae need to leave. Just give me a moment to settle him.”
He turned to the large, overstuffed chair he rarely used, save for when he had Finn with him. A blanket along the edges formed a soft, cozy nest in its middle. Not only did it make a comfortable bed for the bairn, but the barrier of thick, woolen cloth ensured his son would be snug and unable to roll over and fall out, or wake and escape to injure himself before Murdoch could reach him. It wasn’t as ideal as the child’s bed in the nursery, but it suited them both during their times together.
Once Finn was safely settled, Murdoch moved to the couch. A small table at one end held the covered platters that contained his own meal, and a single tankard of mead - all he would permit himself while watching his son.
He took a seat and waved Lydia to the cushion beside him. He waited until she had settled in place before speaking again, his voice low to avoid disturbing Finn. “What brings ye to me?”
“I wanted company.” Her admission made him frown in confusion.
“There’s company enough in the Hall.”
Lydia gave him a sideways glance that suggested he was making a somewhat foolish argument. “Aye. But me betrothed wasnae there. Who else would I be wantin’ to eat with, me first night in the castle of me husband-to-be?”
Murdoch winced at the subtle rebuke. Now that he thought about it, she certainly had a valid argument. He should have been there to introduce her to whatever members of the household and the council were in attendance. As her betrothed that was his duty.
He’d been so caught up in his routine, so uncertain about the feelings that she’d awakened in him that he’d forgotten his basic obligations to her.
If Lydia noticed his chagrin, she didn’t say anything about it. “We’re meant to spend this time learnin’ about each other. How are we supposed to do so, if ye’re always busy or avoiding me?”
Murdoch raised an eyebrow at that. He wasn’t aware that he’d been avoiding her, just caught up in other things. Still, therewas no point in protesting, since doing so would make him look thoughtless, rather than nervous, and he’d had enough of that already. “I take it ye think ye have a solution?”
“Aye. I’d like to add another condition to our agreement.” She took a deep breath. “Every night, regardless of what else may be happening, I want us to eat together, ye and I.”
He blinked. “Every night?”
“Aye. Until we’re either wed or dissolve the betrothal, at the very least. Though if we wed, I’ll make it a condition of the marriage as well.”
It wasn’t the most unpleasant prospect, but he could see a few issues with it. “And what if I’ve business that takes me away from the castle for a night? Or a council meeting that runs late? Or what if ye want to visit yer sisters, and I cannae accompany ye?”
The last he thought was the most likely to come up, but he did have duties beyond the walls of Lochlann Castle every now and again, like the Highland Gatherings.
She considered it a moment. “Then we’ll write each other letters, to be read over the evening meal each night. Or, when we’re together again, we shall take extra time to ourselves to make up for the lack.”
The idea of writing and sending that many letters made his fingers ache, but he had to admire her wit in coming upwith a solution so quickly. And not just that, she’d provided an alternative, if the first suggestion proved untenable. That showed a better mind than many of his council members possessed.
“Well, have we a bargain?” She was waiting for his response.
Murdoch answered by tapping his tankard to her cup. “Aye. We have an agreement.”
Lydia smiled, and sipped her drink, then turned her attention to her food. Murdoch watched as she delicately lifted a slice of roast meat from her plate and placed it in her mouth. Somehow, she managed to make it look graceful, even when a small drop of juice ran down the side of her chin. She wiped it away with a cloth before it could drip on her dress. Not, however, before he felt a sudden urge to bend forward and kiss it away.
God above, it’s been too long since I was with a woman, if even the simple act of eating a meal heats my blood in this way.
He took a sip of his mead to wet his dry throat. He tried to imagine a fortnight of nights like this, or a season, and it made his groin ache. Living through such nights would be maddening, and he wasn’t entirely sure his control would withstand the temptation.
He knew he’d agreed to her suggestion already, but he couldn’t help being aware of the new complication, now that he’d thought of it. He decided to voice the consideration and see what she made of it. “Ye want to eat a meal with me every night, but yedaenae want to permit me anythin’ else? I’m to sit with ye every evening, and never lay a hand on ye?”
