At least that thought brought a measure of calm to her. She always wished that Henry was near. How could she not? She loved him too much. Yet she was not alone in that insanity. Henry adored her and had always treated her well, far better than most lemans. He had never strayed from her side even when her belly was swollen, even now that the years were passing too quickly.
Love …
It was their gift.
Everything would be well. Even if Philipa had taken Anne to town with her and Mary, there was nothing amiss. Henry's wife might harbor meanness toward them but she would not risk the anger of her husband by doing anything that was truly evil.
Anne would return in the summer, and she would hug Bonnie tighter each day until her family was reunited.
That was a mother's path.
Sterling
Sterling rose up from a hillside. Its towers were great polished round structures, each one six feet wide and three stories high. There were five of them, spaced out in a line. Behind them was a drop-off that protected the back of the castle from invaders. Thick walls connected the towers, the blue and gold standard of the McJames flying from it. The men sent out a cheer as the distant sound of bells drifted with the afternoon breeze. There were two gates set into the stone walls. That was a curiosity, since castles were constructed to withstand sieges. Having two gates meant you needed twice the men to protect the weakest spot.
Villagers began appearing from their homes. They called out to the men, cheerfully welcoming them home. The fields were still only carefully turned plots of earth, but the sun was warm on her face, hinting at springtime. The villagers' homes dotted the land around the castle, telling her that Sterling was a productive land. In another few weeks there would be work aplenty for everyone as planting began. For now, the villagers emerged from their homes where they spent the winter months working with leather and cloth, producing goods that might be traded or sold.
Brodick headed for the north gate, his men close on his heels. But he did not ride through the huge opening. He turned and caught her in his sight. There was a chuckle from the men in front of her before he kneed his mount. The black beast surged toward her, a magnificent display of power. Brodick fit with the picture, every bit as strong-master and steed were well suited. He pulled the horse to a stop only inches from her, reaching out to grab the reins of her mare. He controlled the nervous sidesteps of her horse, keeping the bridle down until the mare stopped prancing.
A wicked gleam twinkled in his eyes as he released the reins. He stood up in the stirrups and leaned over. A hard hand hooked her around her waist before he pulled her across the space between the horses. She clutched at his hard shoulders, desperate to avoid falling. His men laughed, their voices hearty.
Brodick laughed as well, but his voice was deeper and right next to her ear as he settled her in front of him. His arm clasped her to his body, securing her tightly. Her body became alive with all sorts of tiny impulses. Each breath drew his scent into her head. She'd never noticed that men smelled different or that she might have a preference for one in particular. A little wave of enjoyment went through her as she drew in the warm scent of his male skin.
"What are you doing, my lord?"
He leaned down until she felt his breath against her ear. Gooseflesh spread down her neck and beneath her stays in response.
"Practicing a few of my own traditions. The McJames brings his wife into the castle for the first time." His fingers spread wide, covering her belly. "Mind you, the situation hasnae always been this … civilized."
She shivered. The kitchen at Warwickshire had often been alight with tales of Scotsmen and their raids on fellow clans. More than one marriage had come about due to the bride being carried off. A wedding after the bedding was often the case among the Celtic clans.
"I confess that there are some traditions I like more than others, lass. Riding off into the night with you is something I believe I'd enjoy. The negotiations with yer father were dull."
"But dealing with my father ensured you the dowry you sought."
The hand on her belly moved, rubbing over her torso. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the brush of his breath on her neck and the skin became abnormally sensitive, anticipating the touch of his lips.
"Ah, but having ye sitting on the front of my horse, pressed against me, is far more stimulating." His lips grazed her neck and she started as sensation coursed through her. There was a soft chuckle beside her ear before he pressed a second kiss to her sensitive skin.
"It feels like ye agree with me, Wife."
Brodick didn't wait for her reply; he wrapped the reins tightly around his knuckles and dug his heels into the belly of his steed. He leaned forward as the powerful horse leapt forward, moving in fluid motion with the animal, his hips thrusting gently forward. The arm clamping her to him ensured that their bodies moved in unison. A blush burned across her face as her body instantly connected the motion with that of being intimate. Brodick would ride her as smoothly as he was riding the horse, his motions steady and strong.
She had never been one to believe completely in the Church's teachings about keeping women ignorant to keep them from sinning. Since meeting Brodick, her mind was shifting to better understanding of why the Church believed that way. Just knowing that the man intended to take her maidenhead was giving rise to thoughts of lust. In sooth, she had difficulty banishing the heated ideas from her mind. All she seemed to do was linger in thoughts of how his kiss felt or how much she enjoyed the steady thrusting motion of his hips behind her now. Heat spread down her neck and across her body, the skin on her belly begging for contact with the hard hand lying on top of her doublet. The strange sensations didn't stop there either; they flowed down lower, touching her sex.
She drew in a ragged breath as she felt her clitoris flicker with need. Never once had she felt so interested in entertaining a man.
"Welcome to Sterling, Wife."
Brodick rode through the gates, keeping her tightly clasped against his body. She felt more like a captive than any sedately negotiated bride. People filled the lower courtyard, their voices raised in a cheer as Brodick galloped toward the steps that led up into one of the stone towers. He pulled the horse to a stop, a cloud of dust rising up around them.
"I bring ye yer new mistress."
Brodick's voice was full of command as he dismounted. She was suddenly the center of attention, every set of eyes on her. Unused to the attention, her chin began to lower, but she caught herself and held her head firmly in place.
She was not a coward and would not shame her father by acting as one.
Two hands encircled her waist, pulling her toward the lord of the manor. She reached for his shoulders, letting her hands grip him. The onlookers cheered as Brodick brought her to the ground. His gaze flickered with heat as he held her for a long moment.
"Welcome to my home." His voice was gruff, and guilt assailed her. She was helping to steal the moment from him with her deception. The man deserved better.
Suspicion clouded his face as he watched her, but the crowd wasn't in the mood to wait. They jostled Brodick in their quest to get closer to her.
"Later." There was a warning contained in his voice, one that pierced her heart because although she might not know very much about him, she trusted that he was not a man who would allow anyone to dupe him without retribution. She suddenly dreaded the day he discovered the deception.
He turned around, keeping her hand in his grip. Striding forward, he took her up the stairs and into one of the round towers.
"Sterling is larger than Warwickshire. Mind that ye don't get lost." He turned his keen stare towards her. "Or wander off. The neighboring clans are not as welcoming."
"Listen to you." A dark-haired girl boldly interrupted Brodick, aiming a finger at his chest. "Ye'll have her cowering beneath the covers of her bed, thinking Scotland is full of bloodthirsty savages."
"And that's what I love about it." Cullen added his comment as he hooked the girl around the waist to pull her into a hug. She hissed at him, wiggling.
"Stop messing my hair, you oaf."
Brodick squeezed Anne's fingers, and returning her attention to his face, she stared at the unguarded expression. It reminded her so very much of her father when he was behind the closed door of her mother's rooms. There was an enjoyment of the banter that hinted at family intimacy.
"This is my sister, Fiona. She's vain concerning her hair."
Fiona tossed her head, settling one hand on her hip. She looked formidable, much more so than any titled lady Anne had ever seen.