She frowned then. "Why...why do you need to do this? Even if I am married to Dash, I am yours anyway, as a mistress to use as you see fit." Her chin angled up a notch. Ah, I loved the hint of defiance in her even though I wanted to take her over my knee at her words.
I turned to her and gently held onto that upturned chin so she was forced to look at me. "Because I dinna want you as my mistress. Tis the second time ye've brought our honor into question. If I wanted to dally with a lass, I'd go to the brothel. I dinna want to dally, I want to fuck my wife and that is ye. To me, yer proxy marriage to Dash is enough to make ye mine, but if ye need to stand in front of a minister and God to know ye belong to me as well, to let me touch ye the way I wish, then so be it."
She tried to turn her head away, but I wouldna let her. I didna want her to hide her emotions, to hide what I could see readily in her eyes.
"The minister, surely he will know," she whispered.
Dash removed his hat, glanced left and right as if someone were nearby to overhear and shook his head. "I willna tell." He cocked an eyebrow. "Do ye plan to tell him ye are wed to another?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it. We had her caught. Neither Dash nor I would tell the minister the truth behind our marriage; he may have some inkling to how marriage was viewed at Bridgewater, but never spoke of it. If Rebecca told the minister of our stance on marriage, then she would be complicit in our unusual customs. She had nay choice but to keep it to herself.
We could return to the ranch and be a family, Dash, Rebecca and I, but her staunch morals required the union in the marriage books, or whatever they were called in the Territory. If she needed to stand in front of a minister in order for me to touch her, to fuck her, to make her mine with as much right as Dash, then so be it.
"No. I won't tell," she replied. "You're willing to marry me—you do not know a thing about me—even though I'm married to Dash? It is quite a step all because you want to kiss me."
I grinned. "I do want to kiss ye, and more. Dash and I have been waiting for our bride to come along, although we had nae expected it over the noonday meal, but we have always planned to share a bride, ever since our time in Mohamir. I have no plan to walk away. If Montgomery married ye to Dash, then he knew that he married ye to me as well. He knew of our ways, but couldna put both our names on the marriage license. This is what he wanted."
Rebecca glanced from me to Dash, and then back, then pursed her lips.
"What is it, lass?" I asked. "Ye dinna have to hold yer tongue with us."
"He wanted to shame me?"
"Shame? Yer brother was honoring ye."
"Honor?" Her cheeks brightened as she unleashed a hint of her frustration. About bloody time. "That word keeps coming up. I thought he was saving me from an arranged marriage to a man three times my age, but instead was choosing to humiliate me. He was using me to get back at my father."
I felt her disappointment. She was clearly confused, lost and most likely overwhelmed.
"Shame ye? Ye dinna understand our ways, lass," Dash said. "Your brother knew our ways were the best for ye. He wasna shaming ye, he was protecting ye."
"How?" She turned away, walked a few steps, spun around. "I...I don't understand."
"Tis easy to become a widow in these parts," I began. "Many a thing befalls a man, just as ye know from your brother's accident. Widows fall prey to unworthy suitors and often have nay choice but to marry again, and nae for love or even kindness. If a woman has more than one husband, she never has to worry about being left alone in the world. The children that are made from the union are protected. Ye willna fear going hungry or lonely. Ye are safe, cherished, adored, protected and above all, honored."
She didna seem swayed, so I continued. "I'm doing this for ye, sweetheart. If ye need me to say the vows before God for ye to know I am yours, then I will do it."
I held out my arm and escorted her to the door of the small church. I stopped and turned to face her. "Know this, sweetheart, when I make ye mine, ye'll get all of me, everything I have, everything I am, and that includes kisses...and more."
CHAPTER THREE
REBECCA
The ride back to the ranch was vastly different than the ride into town. We'd returned my horse to the livery and I sat sideways atop Connor's lap. If gossip in the Montana Territory was anything like London, everyone in town would know before nightfall that Connor and I were wed, so it would seem odd for me to sit on the lap of the witness instead of the groom.
While I had never been kissed before this day, I had never sat upon the lap of a man before either. It was quite surprising and extremely uncomfortable. Connor's thighs were solid muscle and rock hard, shifting with the sway of the horse. I did not wish to lean into him, for he'd think I was seeking out his attentions, especially after the kiss we'd shared following our vows. Connor took the vows to God—and to me—to heart, for the kiss was much more of a claiming than the quick one we'd shared in the entry of their house. I'd even gasped in surprise when he stuck his tongue in my mouth. His tongue, just as Dash had! I'd thought Dash had done it wrong, but clearly it was expected.
Thinking about that had me sitting ramrod straight, although his arms were about me and held the reins. It was exhausting remaining so tense. Did he know I was tense? Of course, he did.
The women I'd met at lunch were so easygoing and carefree, clearly happy with their husbands, their new families, their lives. Everything. They did not fear sharing their feelings, smiling...anything. They did not worry about what others would think of them, or whether the headmistress would strike you with a ruler or a switch for the slightest of infractions.
I would never be like them. While Cecil had rescued me from my father's plans, he had not done it in time. He was over a decade late. The damage had been done, the carefree childhood yanked away when I was just six. Mrs. Withers School for Girls had been ruthless, but so had the elite of London once I'd graduated. I'd been well trained to shore up my defenses as men did going into battle, but in my twelve years at the school I learned not one thing about how to guard myself from two husbands.
I never knew a man could be so warm or smell so good. Once we were away from town, Connor pulled me into him so that I was pressed against his hard chest and he kissed me. Again and again. His lips raked and nipped, then his tongue darted out to lick the slight sting away. He stopped for a minute or two, placing his chin on top of my head before kissing my ear and then down my neck.
It was as if he couldn't stop and it seemed I was too weak to resist. I couldn't push him away, for I would fall off his lap, but surprisingly, I didn't want to. How did all of my training, all of the punishments all be forgotten with a man's mouth upon mine? What was happening to me? If this was how I felt from kissing alone, I didn't think I was strong enough to endure our wedding night. While I'd been told at school to close my eyes and think of England as my husband took his liberties, it was the view of the grassy prairie with the jagged mountain peaks off in the distance that reminded me I was no longer in England.
Back at the ranch, it was Connor who carried me over the threshold, however unlike last time, he didn't put me down in the entry. Instead, he carried me through the main part of the house, down a long hallway and into a bedroom. I saw over his shoulder that Dash followed, closing the door behind us. Only then did he lower me to my feet.