Warlord

“Ye are mine, little lass,” Bronson said in his rough voice and stared right in her eyes. He then slipped a Celtic knot gold band along her finger, sealing their marriage.

Chapter Six

“Milady, the gown is stunning,” Mattina said, her gaze running along the dark-green dress Bronson had delivered to Genevieve after the wedding.

Genevieve looked down at herself, unsure if she could walk out there wearing the gown Bronson picked for her. They were married now, and although it had been a very quick and informal ceremony, it was still a legal union. Apparently, Bronson was in a hurry to start trying to produce heirs, given the fact that the way he looked at her felt like he undressed her with his gaze alone. But she supposed a man at his age wasn’t getting any younger. There was a part of her that was glad the ceremony hadn’t been anything grand or dragged out, because she was ready to settle into this new role of hers.

She was now the wife of the fierce and frightening warlord Bronson Lyon of the great and powerful Clan Lyon. She might have only been wed this morning, handed off by her father to this man who could crush her with his sheer strength alone, but this was the way of her people and of the time.

“Lord Bronson will be most pleased with ye,” Mattina said and gave one more mighty pull of the satin laces that secured the corset around Genevieve and stepped away. The handmaiden clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. “Aye, he will be verra pleased.”

She looked at her reflection again. She was back in the same room where she had dressed for her wedding, but now she was a wedded woman, the lady of the manor, and Lord Bronson Lyon’s wife. A shiver worked through her at that thought. Surely, he would crush her with his weight alone. The man was a force to be reckoned with, and his towering height and massive build showed her that the rumors of his conquests in the field and in bed were not fables. The tartan of green-and-blue plaid was a sash right under her bodice and tied into a bow in the back. The silk felt smooth and soft against her bare flesh, which she was underneath the gown. Again, that was another request of the lord of the manor, and the uncomfortable sensation of having no undergarments on startled and embarrassed her immensely.

She shifted, and this flush stole over her as she moved forward an inch, and her innermost private parts pressed together. She stared at her reflection once more as the handmaiden moved over to the table and gathered supplies. The front of the gown dipped low, and because it was strapless, her shoulders were completely on display. She had never exposed so much flesh before, least of all to a roomful of warriors and the villagers she had grown up with.

She was to dine with Bronson and his clan today, as well as all of her village. It was a grand feast, the biggest one her small village had ever been involved with, and to say she was frightened was an understatement. Mattina returned with a vial of sweet-smelling perfume and started to apply it to Genevieve’s pulse points. After the wedding and walk through the village, Genevieve had been led back to the bathing chamber. There, she had washed in water smelling of bog myrtle. It was a scent that reminded her of the highlands, loved by most, hated by some.

Genevieve was one who loved the beautiful yellow flowers on it, the scent that reminded her of home. The oils that had also been in her bath made her flesh as smooth as the silk she wore. And then Mattina and several other servants had entered to wash her body until her flesh turned red and she had grown drowsy. Her nudity had never been put on display like that, but her discomfort needed to be extinguished, because if this was how they ran things, she needed to put her modesty in the back of her mind.

“Milady, the lord of the manor will be most pleased with yer appearance this night.”

Genevieve didn’t respond, because she really didn’t know what to say. She knew what the servant was implying, that after the meal would be when Lord Lyon brought her back to his chambers and took her innocence. That would be the final step that cemented the fact that she was now the wife, the property, and the future mother of the children of Warlord Bronson Lyon of Clan Lyon. Her hands started to shake uncontrollably.

“Weakness is not an option now that you are wed to Bronson Lyon,” Mattina said in a voice a bit too hard for a servant to be using, but it was what Genevieve needed to hear, because she did calm.