"Ahhh, see," Gilly grinned. "Yer getting me thinking now."
"Aye," Ross agreed.
"And here's another thought fer ye," Gilly said. "As I recall, she vowed to obey ye in that wedding ceremony, did she no'?"
"Aye," Ross said, wondering what he was getting at.
"Well then, even does she argue that if yer no' in a bed 'tis still bedding, ye can order her to allow it. After all, she vowed before God, the priest and her family to obey ye."
Ross frowned at that. He would not order her to allow it. He'd rather try seduction and convincing. He wanted a true partnership with his bride as his own parents had enjoyed, not a bitter resentful wife who lived under his thumb. He didn't say as much though, but simply turned away and headed for the keep. As he went, his mind was planning how to handle the matter. He would take her on a picnic in the woods outside the wall and seduce her on a blanket under the trees, Ross decided. And if she had the presence of mind to protest before he kissed her silly, he'd point out that there was no bed about, so technically it was not bedding.
Nodding to himself, Ross pulled open the keep doors, stepped inside and paused abruptly as he noted the noise and activity around the trestle tables. A large crowd had gathered and was protesting loudly over something.
Curious, Ross approached the table as someone said, "What are ye thinking? Ye can no' waste good uisge beatha like that."
The crowd immediately murmured in agreement.
"I told you. The whiskey will clean the wound and help prevent infection." Annabel's voice was clear as a bell and obviously exasperated as Ross reached the edge of the group and peered over the heads before him to where his wife presently knelt over a man on the trestle table. She was scowling at the cook, Angus, and as he watched, she held out her hand, a determined expression on her face. "Now give it over, Angus. I am your lady, and I order it. I need to stitch his wound ere he bleeds to death on me."
The surly old cook tsked with disgust, but handed her a goblet apparently filled with whiskey, muttering, "Aye fine, clean his wound then. But next ye'll be cleaning the great hall floor with it."
"I will not," Annabel assured him dryly, and then glanced down with a start as the man lying on the table suddenly sat up, snatched the goblet from her and gulped down the liquid. Eyes wide with amazement, she snatched the goblet away, peered into what Ross guessed was the empty container and then scowled at the man and asked, "Why the devil did you do that? Now I need more whiskey."
"I thought I was supposed to drink it to clean my wound," the man spoke the obvious lie with a straight face. His accent, Ross noted, was English.
"Drinking it will not clean your wound, and well you know it," Annabel said on a sigh, and then glanced to Angus and held out the goblet. "I need more."
Angus crossed his arms, eyes narrowing, and lips pursing and Ross could see he was about to rebel. Scowling, he started to move through the crowd, intending to set the man straight on the matter of obeying or disobeying his lady, but he needn't have bothered. His sweet, chatty magpie of a wife, Annabel, suddenly leaned across the man to snatch the cook by the front of his apron and dragged him closer to the table as she hissed, "I am your lady, Angus. Fetch me the bloody whiskey or you shall be searching for a new position elsewhere. I will not let this man die because you are a stubborn cuss too used to having your own way. Understood?"
Angus nodded wildly. "Aye, m'lady. At once, m'lady."
Annabel nodded and released him, and then watched the man hurry away with a sigh and an expression that suggested to Ross that she regretted what she'd had to do to get the man to obey her.
Movement under his wife drew Ross's gaze from Annabel to the man she was leaning over and his surprise turned to a scowl of displeasure as he noted that her position had placed her chest over the injured man's face, and apparently his injury was not so bad that he was not enjoying the view. Seeing how grand the view was did not improve his disposition any and Ross continued through the crowd, traveling much more swiftly than he had the first time.
"Oh, husband," Annabel gasped with surprise and apparent embarrassment when he caught her attention by grasping her arm and dragging her upright where she knelt on the table. "I was just--Cook--I--"
Her stammered effort to explain what he had just witnessed died when he suddenly put his hands to her breasts. He had meant to fan them over the expanse of creamy flesh bulging out of the tight neckline, but somehow his hands got the message mixed up and simply latched on to each generous globe through the cloth. That brought a choking sound from Annabel that was accompanied by a blush so bright red he wondered there was any blood left in her body. It appeared to have all risen to her face and neck. Muttering under his breath, he shifted his hands to do what he had meant to do all along and said, "Ye need to change."
When Annabel's mouth worked without anything coming out, Seonag stepped up beside them and reminded him, "She has nothing to wear but the gown ye brought her in and yer mother's gowns. Yer mother was no' quite as large in the upper area as your lady wife is. Lady Annabel did have a kerchief there, but--" Seonag turned and gestured to the man on the table and he saw the blood-soaked cloth tied around his wound.
Ross frowned as he realized that his wife's present situation was all his fault for not letting her pack a chest to bring with her. He had been so damned eager to get her away from her parents . . . Ross sighed and then glanced to the interested crowd around them and said succinctly, "Out."
The word was sharp enough, or perhaps his expression was unpleasant enough, that every single person turned and headed at once for the doors. Satisfied, Ross let his hands drop from Annabel's chest and relaxed a little.
Annabel hesitated, but then cleared her throat and said, "I know I was overstepping when I threatened Angus. But I need the whiskey to clean the needle and the wound or this man could lose his leg."
"Lose my leg?" The man on the table squawked with horror.
"If it is not cleaned properly before I sew it up, yes," Annabel admitted and then patted his arm and assured him, "But I will not let that happen. I was trained by the best. You will be fine."
Recalling the way the man had been ogling his wife's chest as it had hovered over his face, Ross scowled at him. His scowl only deepened when he realized he didn't recognize him. "Who the devil are you?"
"The spice merchant," Seonag answered for him. "He was injured when Jasper startled his horse and the beast overset his wagon."
Ross cursed under his breath.
"Jasper?" Annabel queried curiously.
"He was my father's animal," Ross admitted. "A damned fine hunting dog and companion until father died. He's been uncontrollable ever since."
Annabel nodded solemnly, and glanced around as the cook hurried out of the kitchens and rushed across the room with another goblet of whiskey. She murmured "thank you," as she took the liquid, her earlier anger with the man nowhere in evidence.
Angus nodded, his anxious gaze sliding from her to Ross and back, and then he turned and hurried away, back to the safety of his kitchens.
"How are you going to--Yowww!" The merchant broke off and howled when Annabel undid the cloth she'd tied around his leg and quickly poured a good portion of the liquid over the open wound. The merchant also sat abruptly upright, reaching for Annabel. No doubt, wanting to throttle her for causing him such pain, but Ross caught him by the shoulders and forced him down flat again.
His wife did not even seem to notice the man's action. She simply held the half-empty goblet out to Seonag and said, "Please soak the needle and thread in this for a few minutes."
Seonag nodded and moved at once to do as asked while Annabel bent to inspect the wound she'd just soaked. Ross held the merchant down and watched silently as his wife carefully cleaned the wound, applied some sort of salve Seonag provided, and then sewed it closed.
The merchant passed out near the end of the ordeal. Whether from pain or blood loss Ross didn't know. He was just glad the man was silent. He'd h
owled and moaned throughout the exercise. Even so, he didn't stop holding the man until Annabel finally straightened from her chore, her hand going to the small of her back as if it pained her.
"Yer well skilled at tending the injured," Ross complimented, and it was no more than the truth. She'd worked with care and precision and her stitches had been small and straight. He had no doubt the merchant would get away with a nice scar and a story to tell. That didn't always happen. He could just as easily have lost the leg to infection, or could even have died from the wound in time, but Ross was pretty sure Annabel's efforts had just prevented either outcome from occurring.
"Thank you." Annabel stopped rubbing the center of her lower back and ducked her head to hide the blush his words had brought on. It made Ross want to kiss her.
Reminded of his plan, he turned abruptly and headed for the door to the kitchens. He stuck his head into the room just long enough to bark orders at the cook, then headed for the keep doors and stepped out to survey the people close enough to be hailed. Spying Gilly and Liam approaching, he waited patiently until they were close enough to hear without shouting, and then gave them instructions on moving the merchant before leading them inside.
Annabel and Seonag were both still by the man on the table, debating what to do with him, he realized when he got close enough to hear.
"Liam and Gilly are going to move him to a room upstairs," he announced, interrupting their discussion. " 'Twill make it easier fer ye to check on him. 'Sides, if Jasper caused this, 'tis the least we can do."
"Aye," Seonag agreed on a sigh. "It might mollify him enough that he does no' warn all the other merchants away from us."
"Oh, surely he would not do that?" Annabel protested and then asked worriedly, "Would he?"
"It's been known to happen at other keeps with lesser incidents," Ross admitted with an unhappy expression. If the man warned off the other merchants, Annabel would be forced to wear his mother's gowns indefinitely. His gaze slid to her over-exposed chest and he frowned. He was enjoying the view, but didn't want everyone enjoying it.
"I'll sit with him and make a fuss over him," Seonag said reassuringly.
Ross nodded as he watched Liam and Gilly pick up the man and start toward the stairs with him. Seonag immediately followed.
"I had better watch over him too," Annabel decided.
She turned to leave then, but he caught her hand to stop her.