"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."
"What I crave is a family, Brother. It's something that comes with manhood. Chasing a wildcat for a few rounds of blistering passion is no longer what I need. I want to lay awake on the trail and know that there is a woman waiting for me in my bed. Maybe even praying that I'll arrive home safely. I want to see her cradling our babe, suckling it with her own breast, because she's happy being my wife, and mothering my children."
Brodick smiled at his brother. They had always enjoyed taunting each other. The only one who needled him better was his sister. Fiona hid behind her feminine grace, trouncing both of them when it came to verbal attacks.
"I hope ye gain that, Brodick." Cullen was serious, his face pensive. "Yet I'm suspicious of yer bride. Something is nae clear about her."
Brodick agreed. "It disnae matter. Once Agnes is finished with this inspection, I'll get on with welcoming my bride to the family. It won't make any difference what she was thinking. All that will be important is our future. She's in a foreign place surrounded by strangers. It's expected that she'll need time to settle in."
"Spoken like a true McJames."
Brodick felt his anxiety fade. He was the McJames and Mary would adjust. Agnes appeared at the top of the stairs and he felt his shoulders tighten in spite of his resolutions. Mary was correct about one thing. Men didn't know a great deal about a woman's body being sound for marriage. What a man sought were things that nature designed to attract his interest. That was the main reason that marriage was more of a business transaction. It was the wiser course of action. Letting lust lead the way was bound to land a man in a poor match both in dowry and children. He was a large man; taking a petite female to his bed would be like a death sentence for her. Inspections had begun to prevent uneven pairs. It made sense, but his lust was trying to argue with logic. He should be disciplined enough to ignore his rising attraction.
But he wasn't.
His cock was straight and swollen again. The thing demanded he cut through all the formalities and get down to what he craved. The idea of tradition was beginning to sound foul as customs blocked his path. Desire was ripping through years of practiced discipline and it was the honest truth that he was enjoying the burn.
He moved toward Agnes with determination. The midwife approached him but stopped, waving her sons away when they stood to go to her side.
"My lord." She lowered her head, waiting for him to ask her for her findings. That was the time-honored way of lord and vassal.
"Is my bride fit to assume her duties?"
"I believe she is."
Satisfaction surged through him but Agnes held up a wrinkled hand.
"She is most concerned that her mother didnae produce any sons and that she may follow in those footsteps. Disappointing ye. She considers the production of children a serious responsibility."
"Life is full of uncertainty. You cannae spend yer days never trying. Any bride I take would have that worry to contend with."
Agnes pursed her lips, disliking his tone. The reprimand hit that spot inside him that was still a boy when it came to her. The midwife aimed a hard stare at him.
"A bride who plans to avoid disappointing her husband is as valuable as one who's eager to please the desires of youth. I found yer new wife to be a woman of forethought."
"Ye have my gratitude."
Agnes lowered herself, just a tiny amount, before gesturing to her sons.
"May yer union be blessed with healthy children. I will look forward to being summoned to the lady in the fall."
Brodick offered Agnes a small pouch. She looked at it but only stroked the silver brooch at her shoulder.
"Ye're a stubborn woman, Agnes."
"Thank you, my lord."
With a cheeky grin, the midwife turned to join her family. She'd never accepted payment from the lord's family. His mother had ordered the brooch made and gifted it to her in order to get around the stubborn streak. Agnes might refuse payment, considering her service owed to the noble family who owned the land her family farmed, but she could not refuse a gift from the lady of the house. That would be rude. It would be interesting to see how Mary dealt with the woman.
Because his bride would be staying. God willing, Agnes would be back.
"Why are ye dressing?"
Helen looked disappointed when she returned to discover Anne halfway into her dress. It was only the stays that she needed help with lacing.
"There's no need for anyone to bring trays to my chamber. I shall eat below."
"Och, ye're such a considerate one."
Helen moved behind her to begin tying her corset in place. "It will please the folks greatly, too, I'll no deny that. They are a might curious about the new mistress. There were a few rumors of how English ladies like their pampering that had us wondering."
"I don't wish to be a burden to anyone."
"'Tis a delight to have one of those men marry up. This house needs life, mistress."
The title of mistress made her smile. She simply could not help it. It was a word that she'd never expected to hear applied to herself. It wasn't pampering that she coveted in the position, only the respect. The chance to be judged solely on what she did.
"Into yer doublet. Cook has the supper out."
Her belly was empty, but that wasn't what motivated her. Anne gratefully quit the chamber with its large bed. Besides, she would have no one's wrists aching from bringing a tray to her.
Helen led her down the stairs and into a long hallway. The evening light streamed through small openings in the stone walls. Helen kept walking until they reached another of the large round towers. There was a buzz of conversation floating into the hallway. When they reached the arched opening, she stared at a wide expanse of tables. Fires were blazing in the hearths that circled the room. It was exactly like the great hall at Warwickshire, only round. Long tables filled it and there was a raised dais at one end with thick chairs set on more carpets. Beneath the tables there was only stone, but it had been swept clean. Anne nodded approval, seeing the sense in it. Spills and crumbs might be swept up easily.