“And you cursed it?”
“I… well, you see…”
“So you did.”
She didn’t reply.
“You made an ill wish, cursed it, and allowed a tittle-tattle wench to use it on her drunken brute of a husband.” He paused. “And by doing that you put yourself in extreme danger.”
A small tremble attacked her belly. His voice held the same low dangerous tone she’d heard at the village earlier that day. “I made it before we were married.”
“That’s an excuse?”
“But I—”
“You could have confessed to its whereabouts and I could have safely disposed of it.”
“Haps you could have… sorry, sir.”
“Are there any more I should ken of?”
“No, I promise, only my healing potions, there’s naught else.”
“That’s one good thing at least.”
She went to turn in his arms but he held her secure and facing forward, her back against his chest.
“So what is the matter we have to attend to?” she asked.
“It is the matter of your disobedience, wife.”
“My disobedience?”
“Aye, you put yourself in grave danger, I almost lost you. If it wasn’t for the swiftness of my horse you’d be ash by now.”
She stared at the fire dancing in the grate. It was usually a comforting sight but right now it wasn’t.
“How could I live without you?” he whispered into the shell of her ear. “You are the other half of my soul, my love, my very heartbeat.”
“And you are mine.”
Suddenly he stepped back.
She turned and watched as he removed his tunic baring his naked chest, then drew up a chair. He sat, knees almost together, his kilt covering them, and tapped his thigh. “Over you go.”
Chapter Fourteen
Over you go?
Isla replayed the words in her mind. Had she heard her husband right?
“What are you waiting for?” He tipped his head and studied her. “Every moment of delay will earn you extra spanks.”
“McTavish, sir, I…”
“Aye, I am sir to you, and husband and master, and as such I command that you place your delicate wee rump over my lap so I can discipline you for your reckless, dangerous behaviour.”
She trembled, her nakedness beneath the towel making her feel even more vulnerable.