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Authors: Lynsay Sands
Tags: Fiction - Romance
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Barely a heartbeat had passed before Merry released a heavy sigh, straightened her shoulders, and moved off toward the stairs. Alex found his eyes sliding down over her lithe shape as she went, traveling over the bulky mail jerkin she wore to her behind in the braies. He’d never before seen a woman wear braies. It wasreally quite…Alex licked his lips as he watched the cheeks of her bottom move with each step and then realized what he was doing, gave his head a shake, and forced himself to turn away as she reached the stairs and began to ascend them. Moving to the table then, he sat down and considered the situation at hand.
It seemed he was getting married on the morrow…to a woman who presently thought him a drunken lout like her father and brothers. He could simply sit her down and explain things and tell her that he wasn’t a drinking man, but having dealt with drunks himself, he knew they were prone to lying to hide their affliction and doubted she would believe him if he simply told her. The best way, he supposed, was to show her by his actions. After a week or so of their living together, she would see that he didn’t drink and wasn’t like her father and brothers.
chapter Three
H er husband was a drunk, Merry acknowledged unhappily as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.
It was dinnertime on the day after she and her kin had arrived at d’Aumesbery. Her wedding feast, but that wasn’t the only reason this meal differed from the one the night before. That had been a quiet affair. Her father and brothers had been sleeping off their drink in their rooms, and Merry had been so embarrassed about them that she’d found it difficult to relax or respond much to Alex’s efforts to engage her in conversation at the table. She’d been relieved when the meal had come to an end and she couldexcuse herself, claiming weariness from her journey to make her way up to her room. Not that she’d slept. Mostly she’d found her mind whirling with worries about her looming marriage and the wedding night that would follow, so that it was quite late when she’d finally drifted off to sleep.
It had been late when her maid, Una, had woken her. The woman wasn’t pleased to have to move to England and had been quiet since they’d left Stewart. She’d continued that way this morning, saying little to distract Merry from her worries about the coming bedding as she’d helped her bathe, dress, and fix her hair. The great hall had been empty when Merry had made her way below, but Edda had soon joined her and kept her company as she broke her fast. From her she’d learned that Alex was out passing the morning training the men and would come in to bathe and prepare for the wedding at the nooning hour.
The rest of the day had passed in something of a nervous blur for her; the nooning meal, the wait for the priest and Alex to be ready, the ceremony itself…The only thing that Merry really recalled about the wedding was the moment when Alex had pressed his lips to hers to seal the marriage. She’d gone stiff in his hold, but every sense in her had been on the alert and she’d been aware of the fresh, male scent of him wafting into her nose, the feel of his warm, gentle hands on either side of her face, the pressure of his lips brushing softly across hers, and even his taste when she’d licked her lips nervously afterward.
Now, she watched her husband slur out hisanswer to a question her father had asked and felt her heart sink. It was disappointing when the meal had started with such promise. At first, Alex had refused the drinks flowing so freely around the table and she’d felt relieved that, this night at least, he would refrain from drinking, and she’d hoped the bedding would be, if not easy, at least less of an ordeal than she’d feared since arriving to find her betrothed was as much of a drunken lout as her father and brothers. But halfway through the meal her father had stood to make a toast and had
It seemed he was getting married on the morrow…to a woman who presently thought him a drunken lout like her father and brothers. He could simply sit her down and explain things and tell her that he wasn’t a drinking man, but having dealt with drunks himself, he knew they were prone to lying to hide their affliction and doubted she would believe him if he simply told her. The best way, he supposed, was to show her by his actions. After a week or so of their living together, she would see that he didn’t drink and wasn’t like her father and brothers.
chapter Three
H er husband was a drunk, Merry acknowledged unhappily as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.
It was dinnertime on the day after she and her kin had arrived at d’Aumesbery. Her wedding feast, but that wasn’t the only reason this meal differed from the one the night before. That had been a quiet affair. Her father and brothers had been sleeping off their drink in their rooms, and Merry had been so embarrassed about them that she’d found it difficult to relax or respond much to Alex’s efforts to engage her in conversation at the table. She’d been relieved when the meal had come to an end and she couldexcuse herself, claiming weariness from her journey to make her way up to her room. Not that she’d slept. Mostly she’d found her mind whirling with worries about her looming marriage and the wedding night that would follow, so that it was quite late when she’d finally drifted off to sleep.
It had been late when her maid, Una, had woken her. The woman wasn’t pleased to have to move to England and had been quiet since they’d left Stewart. She’d continued that way this morning, saying little to distract Merry from her worries about the coming bedding as she’d helped her bathe, dress, and fix her hair. The great hall had been empty when Merry had made her way below, but Edda had soon joined her and kept her company as she broke her fast. From her she’d learned that Alex was out passing the morning training the men and would come in to bathe and prepare for the wedding at the nooning hour.
The rest of the day had passed in something of a nervous blur for her; the nooning meal, the wait for the priest and Alex to be ready, the ceremony itself…The only thing that Merry really recalled about the wedding was the moment when Alex had pressed his lips to hers to seal the marriage. She’d gone stiff in his hold, but every sense in her had been on the alert and she’d been aware of the fresh, male scent of him wafting into her nose, the feel of his warm, gentle hands on either side of her face, the pressure of his lips brushing softly across hers, and even his taste when she’d licked her lips nervously afterward.
Now, she watched her husband slur out hisanswer to a question her father had asked and felt her heart sink. It was disappointing when the meal had started with such promise. At first, Alex had refused the drinks flowing so freely around the table and she’d felt relieved that, this night at least, he would refrain from drinking, and she’d hoped the bedding would be, if not easy, at least less of an ordeal than she’d feared since arriving to find her betrothed was as much of a drunken lout as her father and brothers. But halfway through the meal her father had stood to make a toast and had
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