Page 33 of Bride takes a Scot

“That is enough, Anse,” Declan said, disliking his cousin’s arms around his wife. “Go on and see to the clan. I want a report before ye seek your bed this eve.”

Anse released her and nodded. He left the chamber and closed the door.

Isabella tidied up the herbs and put away her satchel. She returned to him and looked apprehensive. He thought they were through with being awkward around each other.

“Does your husband not get a wee kiss on his return?”

She smiled and sat beside him. He shimmied over to make room for her. “Yes, you certainly do.” Isabella pressed her lips on his.

Declan had missed her. He had been gone only a sennight, and it seemed like forever since he’d seen her or held her, or hell, even kissed her. There was something in her gaze, in the darkening depths of her eyes though, that told him something was wrong. He pulled his mouth from hers and shifted her to lay next to him.

“Tell me what ye have been up to whilst I was away. Why do ye look so down, Wife?”

Isabella visibly sighed. “It is nothing to be concerned about.”

“I will hear your words.” Declan leaned his head against hers, reveling in being next to her. He breathed deeply, enjoying her presence more than he should have.

“I still have not made strides in gaining trust with your siblings. Though I tried, I fear they do not wish to get to know me. It is disheartening and I’m distressed about it.”

“Ye should not be distressed. Rhona and Claude were doted on by my father. They have always been difficult even when they were wee. Och, I mean to see they are raised properly and not coddled. Perhaps I should spend more time with them, but I have been busy…since my da died. I will command that they to be kinder to you.”

“Oh, no, don’t do that. I want to win their friendship on my own without coercion.” She paused and pouted prettily before saying, “Why don’t you allow Rhona to marry? She is of age, and she has her heart set on Willeli. Surely, he is worthy since he’s one of the MacKendrick soldiers.”

Declan grimaced. There was much his wife didn’t understand. “Heisworthy. But she thinks she is ready for marriage. I do not. Given time, she will understand. ’Tis best for all involved if she matures a wee bit before she is expected to take care of a husband.”

Isabella petted his chest. “Perhaps she will do so, ah…maturesooner than you think.” She settled against him and picked at the front of his shirt before blurting, “Your stepmother is horrid. I have never met a more obstinate woman in my life. She is even more dominant than my mother, which is saying much. I vow I shall never befriend her.”

He lifted his head and glanced at her before settling back against her. “Do ye wish to…befriend her?”

“I do if it is important to you,” she said so low he almost didn’t hear her.

Declan shrugged. It didn’t much matter if Isabella was friendly with Helena. “It is not so important, Wife, but I know not what my da saw in the woman. Unfortunately, we must contend with her presence. Perhaps I will have her moved to her own cottage.”

She nodded. “I didn’t see much of Claude whilst you were away.”

“He was ordered to the training fields. I expect that is why ye did not see him. How is Noah?”

“We made progress this day. He scraped his knee and came to me. I think he will be more agreeable on the morrow. Your grandmother seems to have accepted me. At least, she is cordial and not rude to me.”

“Good,” he said and yawned. “I find myself overly tired.”

“Aye, and well you should.”

Declan groaned. “Why, what did you put in that salve?”

“Just the tiniest pinch of henbane for pain and to ward off infection. It should help with the pain and ease you. You might get a good rest whilst you are at it.”

“Who was rude to you? Tell me, wife…for I…will not…allow…” He couldn’t keep his eyes open, yawned widely, and a drowsiness overtook him. Declan fell into a deep slumber before he finished his thought.

*

Declan opened hiseyes and noted the light in the window casement. He had fallen asleep and the last thing he recalled was talking with Isabella. He wondered how long he’d slept. With a hearty stretch, he allowed his limbs to flex and then he pressed his hands over his face to force his alertness. Strangely, his legdidn’t pain him and there was no ache. There was only a wee bit of stiffness.

A knock came at the door, and it opened. Anse stuck his head through the opening and grinned. “Oho, ye are finally awake, are ye? Your bonny wife forbade me from disturbing ye. She said ye needed your rest. Wish I had a tender-hearted woman caring for me. I envy ye.” Anse laughed and closed the door. He instantly began relaying his report, the accounting Declan had asked for the night before.

Declan rose and was careful not to put too much weight on his leg. He washed at the basin while his commander spoke incessantly. He scooped water into his cupped hands, then pressed them to his face. Still, the drowsiness persisted, and he yawned. He shifted the items that sat atop his trunk, rummaged through it, and retrieved a fresh tunic and clean tartan. With care, he set Isabella’s belongings back atop. His wife could use a trunk of her own, and he thought to see to it as soon as he left the room.

Once he’d dressed, he sat on the bedside. He eyed the comfortable bedding and considered lying back down but shook off his need to rest.