In Bed With A Stranger(38)
“Let me see yer teeth.”
Agnes didn’t miss any part of her. She even made Anne cover her eyes so that she might test her hearing by snapping her finger near one ear and having Anne raise the hand on the same side of her body.
“Ye are more than fit, mistress.”
She gasped, but Helen clapped her hands together with glee.
“I’m going to fetch ye some supper. Ye’ll need all your strength tonight.” The maid hurried from the room, excitement making her steps lively.
“Oh, but—” Helen was gone before Anne decided what she might say to stop her.
“Marriage is always a time of uncertainty for a woman. Ye’ll settle in, mistress, as we all do.”
There was a firm parental expectation in Agnes’s tone. One that made Anne close her lips. For a small moment she felt like a child caught snatching a piece of sweet bread from the kitchen between meals.
“I do not want to disappoint the earl.”
The midwife slowly shook her head. “Ye willnae. I’ve seen many a girl less built for bearing babes than ye, push children into this world. Save yer worrying for things that have already gone bad.”
The trap was closing tighter around her again, crushing the breath from her. Agnes was watching her, observing the play of emotions that crossed her face. Anne turned, pacing toward the far side of the chamber.
“Did yer mother tell ye some tale of painful duty associated with consummating your marriage?”
Agnes was trying hard to understand her dilemma. More guilt piled on top of her for putting the woman to the trouble of trying to help her. She dare not trust anyone but she wanted to. The desire to blurt out everything was growing stronger with each kind person she met. But just because a person wanted to help you didn’t mean that they could. Brodick might shelter her at Sterling but Philipa was still mistress of Warwickshire. Even an earl did not have the right to remove servants from another holding.
“No, I understand the way of a man and a woman.”
“Yet ye clearly dread it.” Agnes followed her. “Are ye truly so feared of not producing a son? I hear yer mother never did.”
She was more worried about conceiving but Agnes had hit upon a perfect excuse for her to hide behind.
“Of course I am. Doubts fill my heart. Surely given my family background you can understand why I believe it would be best if you informed the lord of our mismatching. He could offer for a woman that has many brothers. A far better situation for him.”
Agnes didn’t look convinced. She pressed her lips together, aiming her keen stare at her.
“I disagree, mistress. Ye are healthy and large enough to bear the lord’s children without concern.” She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Ye are simply nervous. If I send ye home, ye’ll never face yer fears. No one should live life that way. Ye English need to ken the value of boldness in a girl. That also has its place.”
The midwife nodded firmly, clearly settled in her decision. “Daughters do gain things from their fathers as well. Do not dwell so much on what yer mother didn’t do.”
Agnes lowered herself in a stately manner before she turned and left. Anne sighed, feeling her strength bleeding away.
Philipa’s plan was proceeding and she had no idea how to stop it.
None.
Brodick was tense.
Far more worried than he’d been in a long time. He hadnae wanted to let Agnes near Mary. The surge of emotion worried him because it was so strong. It was the sort of thing he’d heard tales about but always considered it nothing that could really happen to him.
“I’ve never seen ye pace.”
“Go away, Cullen. I’m nae in the mood for jesting.”
His brother didn’t leave but his mocking grin melted as he moved closer. “Nor am I. This marriage business is more complicated than I figured.”
“There is a great deal riding on what Agnes says.” And Brodick wasn’t just thinking about the dowry. He wanted Mary in his bed. Knowing that she was bare up in that chamber right now was slowly burning a hole in his discipline.
“Ye don’t have to send her away even if Agnes says she’s nae strong.”
Brodick nodded but returned to pacing. “By tradition I should.”
“Ye’re the McJames, no one will take her anywhere without yer word.”
“True enough,” Brodick said. “But it would be unkind. I’ve no wish to see the lass suffer.”
Cullen snorted. “It’s clear to one and all where ye wish the lass to be. In yer bed and right quickly, too.”
Brodick froze. “Is it that obvious?”
“To one that knows ye, aye.” He returned to smirking. “Ye’re so pathetic I can’t even find the heart to tease ye anymore. I never thought the day would come when I’d watch ye beg for a taste of honey.”