In Bed With A Stranger(34)

Cullen frowned, his features darkening. Most people didn’t think he had a temper but Brodick knew better. Light hair aside, his brother was pure McJames—fierce and unrelenting.

“Now why would she be wanting an inspection?” Suspicion coated Cullen’s words. “Inspections are done for the groom’s family interests. She has nothing to gain from it and much more to lose.”

“Except time or the possibility that I’ll send her back after hearing what the midwife has to say.”

“Will ye?”

“No.” Firm and resolute, Brodick shot his brother a determined look. “She stays.”

“But at what cost? I’ll nae see ye stuck with a wife who isn’t going to honor yer union  .”

“Suspicion’s an ugly thing, Cullen. Be wary of it.” Brodick kept his voice low to hide the uncertainty in it. He was unsure of his bride and her attempts to leave him, but he was also very intent on keeping her.

“Does she love another?” Cullen stroked his chin with one hand. “I hear that the English ladies are marrying for love with the queen too old to keep them from running amuck.”

“I dinnae know.” Yet he should have considered it. His bride had been at the English court for many years. “She wanted me to return her to her father at court.”

“Maybe you should.” Cullen sounded dangerous. “Ye dinnae need a discontented wife. She’ll turn against ye. Possibly be barren.”

Many men would agree with Cullen. A sullen wife often didn’t conceive just to spite her spouse. Everyone knew that a woman controlled her fertility. Still, the taste of her sweet kiss clung to his lips. He’d touched something inside of her that was beautiful. She hadn’t complained even once on the journey home, never muttered a cross word for sleeping on the ground.

“She’s nae a spoilt lass.”

Cullen nodded, some of his temper fading. “She was pleasant enough on the way home. I know a few Scottish lasses who would have quarreled with sleeping on the trail with a bunch of retainers.”

“Maybe she’s truly afeared that I’ll send her back to her father, disgraced, after bedding her. I hear that happens in England now that the queen is too old to care.”

“I’d have to thrash ye if ye even thought of it.”

Brodick grinned, showing his teeth to his sibling. “That’s providing ye could. I hate to remind ye of how ye fail to measure up to my strength.”

“But I make up for it in cunning.”

“Ye’ve got that confused with blustering.” The men who’d been working the stone tugged on their hats as they recognized the earl.

“I’ve a need to fetch Agnes to Sterling.”

A moment later the midwife appeared. She still walked straight, even if her pace was a bit slower these days. Her hair was silver but still hung in a thick braid down her back. The McJames’ plaid was pulled proudly over her right shoulder and secured with a silver brooch that had been a gift from his own mother.

“My lord.” Her voice was sharp and only a bit graveled by age. “How may I serve you?”

Brodick swung out of his saddle, showing the woman respect by speaking to her on an equal footing. She lowered her chin as he stepped closer, acknowledging his title. When he’d been a boy, she’d swatted his ears when he got into mischief.

“I’ve come to ask ye to return to Sterling with me.” He stopped, his next words sticking in his throat.

“I heard in the market that ye’d gone to the border land to claim a wife.” Agnes paused, choosing her words with care. “Do ye have a concern with her?”

“My bride has asked to have the custom of inspection carried out.”

The two men looked at one another as Agnes took to stroking the silver brooch.

“It is her wish, my lord?”

“Aye.”

She nodded, still fingering the broach. “I didnae know that the custom was so practiced in England these days.”

“Nor did I.”

Agnes lowered her chin. “Bring out my cloak, Johnny. I’m off to Sterling.”

Brodick frowned as he headed back to his horse. He didn’t like it. Not a bit. Agnes allowed one of his men to help her into the cart. She sat back in the straw as her son handed her cloak in to her. Cullen had a good point; it was possible that his bride loved another man. He didn’t like the idea of it. In fact, he was jealous. The surge of emotion was surprising. Never once had he been possessive of a woman. Not even with the mistresses he’d enjoyed so well and completely. He liked women, enjoyed the way they felt when there was nothing between them but skin and passion. Some of them had accused him of being a demanding man.