It took some effort, but Annabel managed to tear her mouth from his to murmur, "Husband?"
"Hmm?" Ross mumbled, his mouth trailing down her throat and toward her breasts even as his hands tugged the soft linen from her fingers to bare them.
" 'Tis--Oh!" she gasped as his mouth closed over one nipple, and then desperate to stop him while she still had the strength to do so, Annabel blurted, " 'Tis Wednesday!"
Pausing, Ross raised his head and thoroughly confused her by grinning. Cupping her face in his hands, he said, "Nay. 'Tis well past midnight. 'Tis Thursday now."
"Oh," Annabel breathed just before his mouth covered hers again. This time she couldn't have broken the kiss had she wished. Ross held the back of her head firmly with one hand as he devoured her with his lips and tongue.
Annabel was breathing heavily and released a long, disappointed moan when he broke the kiss. She opened her eyes, surprised to find she was now lying on her back on the end of the bed. Lifting her head, Annabel peered at the top of Ross's head as his lips glided over her chest, pausing to suckle briefly at first one nipple and then the other, before continuing down across her stomach. She gasped and released a small giggle when he paused at her belly button, his tongue tickling her there briefly before his head shifted to the side to find and nibble at her hip bone. The sensation that caused killed any amusement and Annabel sucked in a breath and held it at the tingling running through her as Ross followed the bone toward the apex of her thighs.
When his head ducked between her legs and Annabel felt the first lash of his tongue there, she cried out and half sat up in shock, her hands instinctively reaching for his head to push him away. It was like trying to move a castle. The man had planted himself there and was not moving. When she tried to squeeze her legs closed around him, Ross forced them open again with his hands and continued his efforts with an enthusiasm that tore her breath from her.
Annabel was now tugging at his hair rather than trying to push his head away. Suddenly aware of that and afraid she'd hurt him, she forced herself to release her hold on the long, dark strands and grabbed for the linen beneath her instead as he did things Annabel was sure she would be doing unending penance for when she confessed them to the priest. She didn't care though; if one could be killed by pleasure, Ross was dangerously close to murdering her . . . and she never wanted it to end. Not that she was disappointed when it did. When Annabel found herself teetering on the edge of that point of exploding, she cried out and threw herself over the cliff with wholehearted enthusiasm, embracing the convulsions and shudders that accompanied it as her body was racked with pleasure.
She was still humming with it when her husband straightened, caught her by the knees and drew her bottom to the edge of the bed so that he could thrust his hardness into her. Her body welcomed him, stretching to make way and then clasping at him when he almost immediately withdrew partway.
Wrapping her legs around him, Annabel sat up and then wrapped her arms around him as a new excitement grew to replace the one that had just passed. This time when the tension Ross was stirring exploded within her, he joined her, thrusting into her one last time with a triumphant shout and holding her tight as he poured his seed into her . . . and all Annabel could think was, "Thank God it is Thursday."
ANNABEL SHIFTED RESTLESSLY and peered at the man asleep beside her. He was snoring fit to raise the roof, while she was lying there wide awake . . . not because of his snoring. That didn't bother her. She quite simply wasn't tired. She'd been sleeping all afternoon and evening thanks to the tincture Seonag had given her and now she couldn't sleep . . . and was hungry.
Imagining the abbess's disapproval at the admission, Annabel wrinkled her nose. That good woman would probably lecture her on gluttony about now, she supposed. She also supposed she'd deserve every word of it, for there was no other word for what she was feeling, but gluttonous . . . and not just for food. She would bypass food in favor of waking Ross for another tupping. However, he hadn't slept all day and was tired.
"So it's food," she mumbled, sliding out of bed and peering around in the light from the dying fire for something to wear. She had no idea who had built and started the fire. Seonag or Ross, she supposed. Annabel wasn't sure if there had been a fire the first time she'd woken up, but it had been burning merrily away when she'd woken up the second time. It was mostly embers now, with a few small flames, but it was enough for her to see by. Sadly, she wasn't seeing a single dress. Not even the one she'd been wearing that Ross claimed he'd had to cut away.
Perhaps she'd just have to crawl back into bed and wait for morning to break her fast, Annabel thought, only to have her stomach rumble in protest. It reminded her that aside from the fact that she'd barely touched the food when Ross had set her at the table earlier, she'd really only picked at the lovely picnic Angus had prepared for them that afternoon.
Annabel glanced toward the table and then went over to survey the food there. Sadly, a quick sampling proved that the stew was even colder and less appetizing now than it had been earlier, and the cheese had just grown harder.
Tsking under her breath, Annabel turned back toward the bed, pausing when she spotted her husband's shirt and plaid. In the next moment, she'd crossed to snatch both up. Annabel dragged the shirt on first. It was overlarge, nearly a tent on her smaller frame, but it covered everything more decently than Lady Magaidh's dress had, so she quickly folded the plaid in half and wrapped it around her waist as a makeshift skirt. A quick search revealed the pin Ross used to secure his plaid half buried in the rushes on the floor. Bending to collect it, Annabel used it to fasten the skirt in place, and then peered down at herself.
The skirt she'd fashioned reached to the tops of her bare feet. It would do, she decided.
The hall was dark when Annabel opened the bedchamber door and stepped out, dark enough that she didn't see the shape lying in her path and stumbled over it. Catching at the door frame, she managed to save herself from a nasty fall, and then squinted at the black mass on the ground at her feet. It was the low growling that gave away what she couldn't see very well. A dog. More specifically, Ross's father's dog, Jasper, she guessed, recalling the name Seonag had mentioned. No doubt this room had belonged to Ross's father while he'd lived and the dog was here, waiting for his master to return, not understanding that he never would.
Annabel contemplated the dark shape, wondering just how wild he'd gone since the old laird's passing and whether he was dangerous. But then she decided that Ross would hardly let him run wild if he was dangerous, so she ignored his growls and said softly, "What is it, Jasper? Missing your master, are you?"
The growling paused and Annabel heard a thump that she guessed was his tail hitting the floor. She didn't reach out to pet him then, she'd worked around animals in the stables and knew enough not to try to move too quickly, so Annabel turned her side to him and calmly pulled the bedchamber door closed. Her eyes had adjusted enough that she could make out shapes and shadows in the hall now by the faint light coming from a fire in the great hall below. Turning toward the stairs, she headed that way, saying softly, "You may come with me if you like, Jasper. I would appreciate the company."
Annabel didn't think for a moment that the dog understood what she'd said other than to know that she'd used his name, but that was enough for him to get to his feet and follow her curiously at a safe distance. He was perhaps four steps behind her as she descended the stairs, but moved a little closer once she reached the great hall floor and began to make her way through the bodies sleeping there.
Annabel peered curiously at the sleeping faces she passed. She had been at MacKay for twenty-four hours by her guess, but other than the cook and the handful of people who had been present when she'd tended the wounded merchant, she hadn't met many of the people she was now lady over. Actually, she hadn't even met the people who had attended while she'd cared for the merchant. She'd simply been in their presence. Goodness, Annabel realized suddenly, she hadn't even yet eaten a meal
with anyone but her husband. It made her wonder what the people of MacKay must be thinking. She hoped they did not think that she thought herself too good to sit at a table with them. Of course, they would know she'd been wounded today, but did they understand that she was not the one who had chosen not to break her fast or eat her nooning meal with them? That those decisions had been made for her?
Grimacing, Annabel decided she was most definitely going to break her fast in the great hall come morning. She might be unskilled at the job that had been thrust on her with this marriage, but she would at least be present and make an effort at being a proper lady to the people of MacKay.
Jasper was still keeping a two-foot space between them when Annabel reached the doors to the kitchens. Not wishing to crowd him, she passed through the door and then stepped to the side and held the door for him to follow. Once he had entered and moved out of the way, she let the door slide closed and then peered around the kitchens. The light here was much better than in the great hall. It was also a lot warmer. Uncomfortably so, and Annabel understood why when she noted that a fire was still burning with some enthusiasm under a pot across the room.
Curious, she walked to it and peered at the contents. It appeared to be a soup of some kind bubbling away. It smelled delicious and Annabel briefly considered finding a trencher and serving herself, but she didn't see any handy trenchers lying about for her to use. Deciding she'd probably spill it on her way back through the great hall and burn some poor unsuspecting sleeper anyway, she gave up on the idea and made a quick search for something else.
Moments later Annabel had found a pantry and loaded herself up with cheese, fruit and a crusty roll, and was leading Jasper out of the kitchens and back across the great hall. The dog followed her much more closely on the return journey. Much to her amusement, he was nearly treading on her heels in his eagerness not to be left behind. Annabel had dropped him a couple of pieces of cheese as she'd cut it and thought wryly that it was amazing what a little culinary bribery could do. The dog had gobbled up the offerings as if starving and had stuck close to her ever since.
Jasper stopped in the hall and sat down to watch silently as Annabel shifted her booty and opened the bedchamber door. When she stepped inside and then glanced back to whisper, "Come," he stood up eagerly and rushed into the room.
Smiling faintly at this sign of good training, Annabel closed the door and then led him to the chairs by the fire. When she sat in one of the chairs, he settled at her feet and steadfastly refused to look at the food she held. He'd been trained not to beg, she noted with satisfaction and rewarded him with a bit of cheese and then some fruit as well. Jasper was careful not to nip her as he took the offerings and then gobbled both up eagerly before laying his head on her knee. Taking that for the invitation it was, Annabel gave him a pat and told him he was a good boy, then caressed his head and stared into the fire for a bit, marveling over how her life had changed and wondering when she would wake up from this dream she was surely having.
"WIFE."
Annabel stirred sleepily, and then sighed as a warm hand slid down her side and over her hip under the linens and furs. When that hand then made the return journey, she rolled back until her husband's chest pressed against her back, and was rewarded by that hand detouring to find one breast and caress it.
"Mmm," Annabel murmured as heat began to seep through her. "Good morning, husband."
"Good morning," Ross said softly, and kissed her ear before asking, "Why is there a dog in our bed?"
Annabel's eyes popped open and she lifted her head to look around until she spotted Jasper lying at the bottom corner of the bed. When the dog raised his head to meet her gaze and began to wag his tail, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at the doggy grin he was giving her.
"Your father must have let him sleep there," she said apologetically. Jasper had lain down on the floor beside the bed when she'd finally decided she might sleep and had rejoined Ross. Apparently, the dog had joined them in it after she'd dozed off, because she hadn't felt him climbing onto the bed.
"How did he get into the room?" Ross asked next.
"Ah." Annabel grimaced, and then admitted, "I let him in."