Read Online The Marriage Contract by Cathy Maxwell - Free Book Online

in step behind him.
    Blessed, blessed light, Anne thought, as she rushed toward her husband. “There’s something in there,” she warned them.
    “In where?” Aidan asked.
    “My room. Something or someone is in the bed.”
    Aidan frowned. “There shouldn’t be anyone here.Take the torch, Hugh,” he ordered as he reached down and pulled out a knife hidden inside his boot. He stepped into the bedroom.
    Anne hurried after him, her heart pounding. She hadn’t imagined bloodshed. Before she could say anything, her husband approached the bed, where there was obviously someone under the sheet. The knife poised in one hand, he ripped off the sheet with the other.
    The man in the bed shouted in alarm.
    Aidan shouted back, “Roy!”
    “Yes, Laird?” He scrambled upright, sleepy eyes blinking in surprise. He had broad, hairy shoulders, an overflowing stomach, and short arms and legs. Anne could see why she had mistaken him for a bear. “What are you doing with a knife, Laird?”
    “He was about to gut you,” Deacon answered.
    “By all that’s holy?” Roy asked, starting to tremble.
    Aidan frowned. “We thought you were a brigand.”
    “What’s a brigand?” Roy asked dumbly.
    Without answering, Aidan replaced the knife in his boot. “Anne, this my cook, Roy. Roy, this is Miss Anne who-won’t-tell-me-her-last-name.”
    “Black,” she said.
    “Yes, Black,” he replied absently, before going straight to the point. “What are you doing here, Roy?”
    “I had a wee bit too much to drink. Elma shouts atme when I’m drunk coming home.” He shrugged. “Ye wouldn’t understand, laird, since you’re not a married man.”
    “I’m beginning to have some feeling for your dilemma,” Aidan muttered. “But you can’t sleep here tonight, Roy. We have a guest. This is her bed so you’ll have to be up and out of it. You can sleep in the kitchen or in front of the hearth with the dogs.”
    “Yes, Laird.” Roy practically fell out of the bed. Thankfully, he wore breeches but no socks or shoes. He padded barefoot past without another word. The dogs followed him out, probably hoping for a bite of the lamb leg on the downstairs table.
    “There,” Aidan said to Anne. “You can sleep now. Good night.” He started to leave but she stepped in his path.
    She nodded to the tangled, wrinkled bedclothes, and announced, “I will not sleep in sheets someone else has slept in.” She was certain they hadn’t been changed in years, at least, not if Norval had been expected to do it.
    Aidan loomed over her. “I’ll make you the same offer I did Roy. You can sleep in the kitchen or with the dogs.”
    He was serious.
    “Well, then I will sleep here.”
    “Good. Sleep well.” He stomped out of the room. Deacon followed, laughing.
    Hugh lingered to put the torch in the wall sconce by the door. “You will want the light.”
    “Thank you,” she murmured but then he, too, hurried to catch up with her husband.
    Anne stood alone a moment. She could barely look at the unmade bed. There could be lice in the sheets or all manner of untold beasties. Suddenly, in a fit of temper, she crossed the room and slammed the door.
    “He’s rude, coarse, obnoxious—!” She doubled her fists and silently screamed out her frustration. No wonder people thought he was mad. Who walked around with a knife in his boot? “It’s probably some medieval thing,” she said to her reflection in the grimy mirror. “No wonder people question his sanity.”
    He was the hermit in the castle, free to parade around in kilts and wield knives and pretend he lived in another time.
    Well, not completely. “He still bathes,” she reminded herself…and right now, she’d give her soul for a hot bath. She didn’t doubt Norval had completely forgotten her. He only took care of the laird—
    Anne cut off her ranting.
    There was a bath waiting a few steps down the hall…in her husband’s room…where she was supposed to be. And suddenly she realized what she