Highland Hellion (Highland Weddings #3)(45)

Was it cruel?

There was a rap on the door as the woman stood and nodded at Katherine’s undressed state. Only her smock remained.

“That will be the midwife.”

The chamber door opened, and two older women looked in. The woman in front of Katherine waved them forward.

“Off with that smock now.”

Katherine gripped it instead, which earned her a raised eyebrow.

“It’s better ye are inspected,” the woman said softly. “Especially with ye being English and yer groom no’ having the blessing of his father.”

Katherine felt her mouth go dry. She had failed to consider just how easy it would be for Laird McTavish to annul the marriage. The women took advantage of her shock, pulling her last garment from her. She felt her hair flutter down to lie against her bare back as the two midwives lifted candles from the tables and brought them close.

They missed nothing, lifting her hair so that every inch of her back was seen. She felt the heat of the candle flame when they brought it close to check for witch marks or hidden nipples where she might suckle a demon. There was safety in submitting to the examination, and yet she felt unbearably exposed. The moment they nodded with satisfaction, Katherine plucked her chemise out of the first woman’s hand and put it on.

There was a little sound of amusement from one of the midwives.

“Ye’re no wanton,” the other said with a nod.

“Come.” The first woman was standing near the bed, with the bedding pulled down. “Yer groom will be on his way soon.”

Katherine slid into the bed, feeling none of the comfort of the fine sheets. There was a teasing scent of rosemary and amber, sprinkled about for fertility and good fortune. The three women contemplated her before nodding again.

“Good night to ye.”

*

Duncan slapped a book down on the table in front of Rolfe.

“There ye are, lad. Just what ye’ll need tonight.”

Rolfe cocked his head to the side and sent his friend a glare. Duncan wasn’t impressed at all. He wiped his mouth with a linen before scooping up the book and opening it to a random page.

“English ladies enjoy poesy,” he said.

There was a round of laughter in response.

“Ye’ll likely have to read her most of this book to win her over.” Duncan was searching through the pages.

“Be lucky to deflower her before dawn!” someone called out.

“Can’t be showing her too much strength, or she’ll wilt dead away!”

“A sleeping wife is no fun to tumble at all!”

Rolfe growled and started to stand. “I bid ye all good night.”

He really should have been less trusting of his friend, because the moment he was on his feet, a plaid was tossed around his body and pulled tight.

“Duncan!”

“No need to thank me,” his friend responded through his mirth. “Ye’d do the same for me.”

“I’ve a long memory,” Rolfe growled. “Ye can bet I will.”

His struggles were in vain. The Lindseys had him surrounded and were rolling him in yards and yards of wool while Adwin looked on with a huge grin.

“A fine wedding present, the wool,” Duncan replied. “Since yer bride retired so early, it’s best ye take it on up to…her…”

Duncan was nearly doubled over with laughter. There was so much fabric that Rolfe was swaddled like a babe and reduced to glaring at his friend. The Lindsey retainers were clustered around him, admiring their work. The fabric was twisted around him from neck to ankles, so that he didn’t dare move or he risked breaking his nose when he fell to the floor.

“Thank ye,” Rolfe ground out. “I promise”—he stressed the word promise—“I’ll no’ be forgetting yer gesture.”

Duncan heard him loud and clear but only grinned in cocky amusement as the Lindsey retainers hoisted Rolfe high and began to carry him toward his bride.

*

Katherine was out of the bed the moment the women left her alone.

You are being silly…

Perhaps, but there was no way she could stay in the bed, just waiting for Rolfe to come and find her there. So she opened a wardrobe and found a length of Lindsey plaid. She wrapped it around herself as she pinched out several of the candles near the bed to decrease the light, in case the Lindseys decided to escort Rolfe to his nuptial chamber with the same amount of zeal as they had her.

The wedding dress was lying across several chairs. It shimmered in the candlelight, the soft silk looking like something from a child’s dream. She moved toward it, gently stroking it with a single fingertip. There had been a time when she’d looked at her stepmother’s collection of dresses and wistfully longed to wear such finery.

She didn’t lament the past few years in Scotland. For certain, her life was nothing like those dreams, but she could never have imagined the adventures that she had been on.

And tonight?

Well, it was another sort of adventure, to be sure.

She became aware of the sound of men coming up the stairs. Her heart started to accelerate, making her breathing harsh. There was a rap on the door before it burst open, and she watched as at least fifteen Lindsey retainers came through the door in one mass, a chuckling, kilt-clad bunch.

They labored to haul something between them and left it in the middle of the receiving chamber.