Page 51 of Claimed Highland Brides

6

LEGALESE

B arclay sank onto his bed with a sigh, his head in his hands.

“Sir?” Angus’s voice cut through his preoccupation, and he looked up. “Is anything the matter?”

“Not really. I…think I might have made a mull of things this evening with Miss Douglass but…”

“Miss Douglass? Which one?”

Barclay shook his head. “Never mind. I’m tired. I would like to sleep.”

“Yes, sir.”

Barclay lay back on the bed, after taking his shoes off, and stared at the ceiling, head cradled on his arm. He thought back to his conversation with Aileen, trying to understand where it all went wrong.

He had thought she would be flattered by his proposal. After telling him that she had no expectation of ever marrying, he’d thought she would be ecstatic.

Instead, she had acted as if he had hurt her.

I don’t understand.

He tried to put himself in her shoes. A woman’s entire life revolved around the prospect of one day being a wife and bearing children for her husband. It was that or live out a life alone and unfulfilled.

I am saving her from that. So why did she look like she wanted to cry when she said she would think about it?

Barclay didn’t understand why she had not acquiesced right away to his proposal.

Is it because of the land? Does she not want me because I do not have my inheritance? Perhaps she thinks we will have no home to go to. She did not say no, however. She said she would think about it and give me an answer.

If he was being honest, his pride was hurt that she had not jumped at his offer right away. But he was a patient man, and he had every confidence that she would agree to his proposition. He wasn’t optimistic enough to believe that a marriage would be enough to sway his step-uncle, however.

I need to speak with the governor and persuade him to help me.

He closed his eyes, resolving to sleep on it. In the morning, there were many decisions to be made.

* * *

Aileen had a hard time falling asleep, Barclay’s words reverberating in her mind. It was a great shift in her thinking to imagine the prospect of being someone’s wife after years of the an ingrained belief that she would never be. On one hand, she was worried that perhaps Barclay was mocking her, playing a cruel joke on her. But she could not see any reason why he would do that. She could not come up with one instance in her memory of him being deliberately unkind to her before.

But if she discarded the possibility that he was playing with her, then she had to contend with the fact that he was serious in his proposition.

Can I really marry him?

She wiggled around in her bed, a strange heat in her belly at the thought of doing with him what married people did. Her thoughts went to Fiona and Jamesina, the intimate way they looked at their husbands. The random touches. The long kisses and caresses. The sometimes early nights from which they emerged at breakfast glowing with a special light.

I want a marriage like that.

She chuckled, thinking that it had taken her all of a few hours to go from no expectation of marriage to very high expectations.

We knew each other so long ago, so far away, as children. Will that be enough to build a family?

She felt she was being na?ve because many marriages started with much less than that. Peter Saunders, their tacksman, recently married a woman he’d never met before his wedding day. His family arranged the entire thing as he had managed to go for thirty years without choosing a bride for himself. Yet they seemed to be doing reasonably well.

She sat up in bed, looking around the darkened bedchamber, lit only by the embers of the dying fire. Focusing on her breathing, she tried to calm herself down and think about things logically.

What is the worst that could happen if I married him?

She blinked a few times, trying to think. By the wetness she could feel between her thighs, she could surmise that passion might not be a problem. At least not for her. Fiona had not been remiss in educating them on everything they needed to know about sex. Upon Jamesina’s engagement, she had taken it upon herself to educate all of them on the joys and sorrows of married life.

“Dinnae allow yer husband to be selfish. Make sure he satisfies ye too.”

“Satisfies?” Maisie had asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Aye. Do ye touch yerselves? Do ye ken how yer body works?”

Maisie and Fenella had giggled, cheeks rosy as they nodded. Jamesina looked as mystified as Aileen felt. Fiona had pulled Jamesina forward and placed a hand atop her breast. Jamesina had squealed, making Aileen and the twins laugh.

“Ye mun’ play wi’ yerself now and then. Revel in the feel of yer hand on yer own breast, play wi’ yer nipple.”

Aileen put a hand up to her cotton-covered breast as she recalled Fiona’s words. She flicked a glance towards the partition that separated her bed from Sarah’s, her lady’s maid. She could hear Sarah’s light snoring and relaxed, hand kneading her breast, enjoying the pleasant sensation.

Slowly, she slid the soft cotton off her shoulder, pulling breast out. The exposure to cold air had her nipple pebbling, and she shivered. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the headboard, imagining that it was Barclay’s hand on her breast, that it was he who was moving his finger back and forth like a pendulum against her nipple. Her breath came short and fast as she imagined his breath on her face, lips hovering over hers, ready to press down upon hers.

Her own lips parted as she scrunched her eyes shut, imagining his warm, heavy weight upon her.

“Ye mun’ see how yer naked palm feels on yer skin. Allow yerself to be unclothed and touch yersel’ everywhere,” Fiona had said.

“But…why?” Aileen could not help but ask even though she knew the advice was not really meant for her.

“Because ’tis yer body and ye should ken it. Be comfortable in it. Ken what gives it pleasure.”

“Did ye ken? Before ye…” Maisie smirked.

Fiona shook her head. “No, I didnae ken. Tha’s why I’m trying to save ye th’ time. No’ every man will have Daividh’s patience.” She grinned smugly at them, and Aileen’s cheeks burned as an image of Daividh touching Fiona’s body flitted through her mind. She didn’t want to think about that.

But now she slipped her cotton nightie right off, relying on the lingering heat from the fire and her blankets to keep her warm. She ran a hand up and down. She ran her fingers over her body, reveling in the feel of her warm palm on naked skin and imagining that it was Barclay’s huge hand on her flesh. Her hand slowed as it neared her center, and she took a deep breath, flicking another glance towards the partition that separated her from Sarah.

Her lady’s maid snored on.

Quickly, surreptitiously, she burrowed into herself, burying her gasp in the pillow. She felt something round-shaped, and when she pressed down on it, her whole body jerked. She snatched her hand away, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

This must have been what Fiona meant.

She turned to her side, blinking rapidly as she hunched in on herself. She thought that perhaps it might not be so bad to be married. To have someone touch her in that way, every day.

The problem was that she already felt possessive of him. Just by asking her to be his bride, he had staked a claim and her heart had answered that claim with one of its own. She did not think she could live with him venturing out of their marriage bed, having mistresses like his grandfather before him.

As far as she knew, her sisters did not have to suffer that indignity, but she was aware that many marriages did make room for it. If she was nothing but a convenient wife to him, she did not see how Barclay would not feel entitled to having the occasional mistress.

Someone who was far more beautiful than Aileen. She might bear his heirs, but he would share himself with somebody else.

I can’t do it.

She shook her head, reluctantly deciding that she would have to say no to him. Much as she would want to help him regain his land back, she could not do this.

She was not worried for him. He was a handsome gentleman, well-traveled, young, and well-mannered. Finding a wife would not be difficult for him to do. Even though it felt as though someone had reached in and pinched her heart, she would have to say no and allow him to find someone more his level. There was still plenty of time for him to do so.

She decided that she would seek him out before breakfast and give him her decision. With that, she closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

* * *

A knock woke Barclay up just as the sun was rising on the horizon. He sat up in bed and called sleepily for them to come in.

The knob turned, and Daividh Campbell poked his head in the room. “Forgive me for waking ye so early, but I mun’ go oot hunting, and I wanted to gi’ ye these before I left.” He stepped into the room, holding out some scripts. “I am no an educated man, but my steward and my wife have read these t’me. ’Tis from the man who drew up yer faither’s will. He is a lawyer in Edinburgh and begs ye to see him for further information once ye return to claim yer birthright.” Daividh held out the piece of script and Barclay reached for it, skimming it over as he listened to the laird.

“Once ye’re in Edinburgh, ye can also seek audience wi’ the governor. He would be amenable to helping ye wi’ your case, I believe. We have an invitation to the governor’s ball but we werenae intending to go. Ye can go in our stead and speak wi’ him.”

“Tha’s very kind o’ ye.” Barclay tried to absorb all this new information.

“’Tis the least we can do. I mun’ leave now, but if ye need anything, Fiona will help ye wi’ it.”

“I am grateful. Thank ‘e.”

Daividh nodded once before turning and leaving, a bow slung across his shoulders. Barclay lay back with a sigh, rereading the letter. It meant getting back on the road again.

I had hoped to resolve the prospect of marriage to Aileen before I had to leave.

He shook his head, wondering how best to proceed.

Well, if I am to go to Edinburgh, Antonio and Diego will come with me. I should speak with them first.

He got up slowly and dressed carefully. He wanted to look his best for Aileen, and hopefully, she had come to a decision. If she agreed to be his wife, he could travel with her to Edinburgh, and she could stand surety that he was who he said. Together with his Spanish cousins vouching for him, the governor would have an easier time accepting his bona fides.

Angus came into the room and set out Barclay’s shaving gear. He sat back and closed his eyes, allowing the man to do his work.

When he stepped out of the room, he was confident that he looked his best. He spotted Aileen hovering at the end of the corridor. He knew she had an answer for him and prayed it was the right one.