Malcolm had not been happy to learn he had to leave Christine so soon after their wedding. He dinna ken her well enough to be sure she would listen to his orders to not travel—anywhere—alone. So far, his encounters with her had not given him confidence in her ability to judge a situation as unsafe. He was plagued with visions of the numerous messes the lass could get herself into while he was gone.
Even though he’d tried to go over once again what she was allowed and not allowed to do the night before when she lay in his arms, soft and warm after their joining, it hadn’t gone well. The more he attempted to impress upon her how she needed to be careful, the stiffer she’d grown until he felt as though he was holding a wooden plank.
“Christine, I canna do my job if I have to spend all my time worrying about ye.”
“Ye doona have to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”
“Ach, lass, doona start that again. We’ve been through this. Ye are no’ responsible enough. I fear ye doona think things through before ye act.”
‘Twas at that point she scooted away from him. “I prefer no’ to hear any more criticism of myself if ye doona mind. I’ve agreed to leave my home and stay at the castle while yer gone, which I’m no’ happy about, but I willna listen to lecture after lecture as if I am a complete idiot.”
He reached across the bed and tugged her back into his arms. ’Twas probably not a good idea to spend their last night together arguing before he went off on this mission. “Ye are no’ an idiot. I just want to make sure ye are safe while I’m gone.”
When she opened her mouth, he assumed to continue the discussion, he did what was necessary to stop her.
He kissed her, and they both soon forgot what they’d been discussing.
* * *
Christine and Malcolm rose with the dawn the next morning as he prepared to leave. Although he tried to once again to remind her about safety, she placed her finger over his lips and spoke. “Nay.”
They rode to the castle and entered the great hall, where a group of men had joined Haydon breaking his fast. Ainslee waved at her and Malcolm to join them.
“Are these the men ye are travelling with?” Christine asked.
“Aye. I chose them myself. I’ve trained most of them and have been in battles with all of them.”
“My, ye are up early,” Christine said as she took a seat alongside Ainslee.
The woman looked over at her husband who looked back with a smirk on his face. “Aye. I was awakened early, so with the men leaving, I decided I might as well leave my bed.”
Even though Christine and Malcolm had awakened early, and probably the same way the laird and his wife had, the heat rose in her body at the looks they gave each other, and she was sure her face had blossomed into a lovely red. ’Twas a shame he had to leave just when she was discovering all the ways he could bring her pleasure as she never imagined. He should not have told her that there was much more he could teach her. She waved her hand in front of her face and grew even warmer when Ainslee nudged her and grinned.
Christine cleared her throat and took a deep breath, wishing her blush to perdition. “Did Haydon tell ye Malcolm wants me to stay here while he’s gone?”
“Aye.” Ainslee reached over and covered Christine’s hand with her own. “I think ’tis a good idea. Ye willna be so lonely with him gone, and we would love to have ye here.” She grinned and sat back. “We can always use another woman.”
At least she dinna have to worry herself over the laird and his wife feeling imposed upon. “What of the servants he just hired? I dinna think to ask about that.”
“Send them here. Our cook could always use the help, and we ne’er seem to have enough lasses to keep the place clean.”
“That is a relief. They are all nice people, and I hate to see them lose their positions so soon after starting them.”
They passed the time chatting about Ainslee’s bairns—who according to her were the smartest lad and lasses ever to grace the earth—and the upcoming birth of the new bairn.
“How are ye feeling with the end so close?” Christine asked.
Ainslee rubbed her expanded middle and sighed. “By this time, I always feel as though I was born carrying a bairn.”
“Well, ’tis number four, and Malcolm told me ye are married about five years.”
“True.” She rubbed her middle again. “I would like a bit of time before the next one, but I doona think my husband would take to separate bedchambers.”
“What was that?” Haydon asked, turning from the group of men he was speaking with. “Who wants separate bedchambers?”
Ainslee rolled her eyes toward the heavens. Something Christine had noticed she did a lot when dealing with Haydon. “Ach, husband. Do ye listen to everything I say?”
“Nay. Only when beds are mentioned.”
‘Twas Ainslee’s turn to show off how well she could blush. She leaned over to Christine. “I wish I could find a way to continue to enjoy my husband without producing another bairn.”
“Have ye a midwife here?” Christine asked.
“Aye. Helen, Dorathia’s niece.”
Christine nodded. “I met Dorathia when I first arrived here. She’s a pleasant woman. I did a bit of healing at my home. Dorathia offered to continue my education with her on herbs and potions. That might be a good way to keep me occupied while Malcolm is gone.”
“And keep ye out of trouble, too,” Malcolm tossed in.
Christine’s jaw dropped. “So ye are listening to our conversation too, husband?”
The fool winked and turned back to Haydon and Conall.
Christine shifted closer to Ainslee and lowered her voice since it appeared the husbands were conducting their own conversation but inserting themselves into theirs. “Since I was under very little supervision while growing up, I heard many a conversation that other unmarried lasses wouldna.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I understand there are things ye can do to keep from having a mon plant his seed.”
Ainslee sat back, her eyes wide. “Nay! My soul would be condemned to hell if I did that.” She shook her head and rubbed her tummy once more. “Ye need to forget what those things are, or yer own soul could be in danger.”
“What has ye so worked up, wife?” Haydon asked.
“Nothing.” Both women said.
Christine looked over at Ainslee and decided if she looked as guilty as Ainslee did, the husbands would never believe them.
“’Tis time to leave, anyway,” Malcolm said.
Suddenly, Christine wanted to throw herself at her husband and ask him not to go. It dinna seem possible that she felt this sense of loss when she’d only known the man for less than a week.
‘Twas something about the marriage vows—and the marriage bed—that had formed a connection to Malcolm as she never had with anyone else before. And now that the annoying man was leaving, she felt this urge to cry.
“Is something wrong, lass?” Malcolm asked as he placed his knuckle under her chin to raise her head.
“Nay.” She moved back. Then she moved forward and threw her arms around him. “Safe journey.” She backed up and practically ran to the steps leading upstairs.
The pounding of footsteps behind her told her she was not going to get away with such a brief farewell. Malcolm grabbed her hand and tugged her into an alcove next to Haydon’s solar.
He held her in his arms and stared at her. “I’ve been so worried about ye being here without me—”
Wrapping her hand around the back of his head, she pulled him to her, stopping his words with a kiss. ’Twas a kiss like they’d never shared before. Desperate. Longing. Needing. Parting.
Christine pulled away and was humiliated to feel tears rolling down her cheeks. She attempted to scoot around her husband’s big body, but he blocked her.
“Ye will be fine, here, Christine. If ye need anything, yer laird will take care of it.”
She wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her dress and nodded as he spoke. She felt utterly ridiculous. Two weeks ago, she dinna even ken this man’s name. Now she felt as though part of her was leaving.
“Ye ken, ye’ve been so busy telling me how to be safe and how foolish I am to not think ahead, but ye are going into a dangerous situation, aye?”
Malcolm pulled her to him again. “I am a trained warrior, wife. I’ve had scores of missions and seen many battles. Ye’ve seen the scars on my back and leg. Yet here I stand in one piece.”
She leaned forward, resting her cheek against his chest. The steady beat of his heart calmed her. Aye, he was trained for battle. She needed to keep herself busy while he was gone, and all would be well.
Strengthened by her thoughts, she moved back and smiled. “I am fine, husband. Truly. I will study with Dorathia while ye are gone to learn new things, so I can be of help to the clan when someone is injured or sick.”
He grinned at her abrupt change of manner. “Just as long as ye use yer head and stay out of trouble.”
“Really, husband. I’m a tad tired of hearing about my shortcomings.”
“No more bickering. I must leave now.” His hazel eyes met her blue eyes for a few moments, then he lowered his head and took her mouth in a kiss that said much more than she thought words could.
“Malcolm, are ye coming, or should the men wait another hour for ye to say goodbye to yer lass?” Haydon shouted from the great hall.
Malcolm released her, and they strolled, hand in hand to where the men had gathered. “Have a care, my laird. I just married the lass a few days ago.”
Conall walked up to Malcolm and placed his hand on his shoulder. “I can take yer place, cousin.”
“Nay. ’Tis what the laird wants, and he kens what is best. I will just have to make sure I uncover the brigands quickly and bring them to justice.”
The group moved to the outer bailey. Ainslee handed her two-year-old Alasdair to Christine as she shifted Grace in her arms.
She watched as the men mounted their horses. Already she could see Malcolm’s demeanor had changed. He had already left her, even though his body was present. He shouted orders to the men, and with a wave, they were off.
Alasdair began to fuss and cry in her arms. Christine jiggled the lad and leaned her chin on the top of the bairn’s head. “Aye, lad, I ken how ye feel.”