The Other Highland Laird

‘Come on, we must not delay,’ Robert said roughly, nudging her forward as the assembled guests cheered. They climbed up the stairs, and Marion’s feet felt unsteady as she lifted them up one by one and placed them on the steps, steering herself forward with as much strength as she could muster.

Robert’s fingers bit into her arm as he half pushed and half lifted her up the steps. Marion grew more distressed with every step, and when they reached the door of the nuptial suite and Robert turned to lift her over the threshold, she stepped back crying out, ‘Please, don’t! Don’t touch me!’

‘Get inside,’ Robert said, glancing to either side before he pushed Marion into the room.

‘You have a duty to your husband,’ Marion recalled her mama saying, as she sat on the side of the vast bed and took a deep breath, ‘you have to submit to him and allow him to have his way with you.’

‘You may be surprised,’ Robert said, standing in front of her, shrugging off his jacket and reaching for the buttons of his shirt, ‘but I find this far more repugnant than you do.’

‘You do?’ Marion breathed; hope surfacing through the clouds of distress.

‘Yes,’ Robert said. ‘The fact is – and I think I should let you know right from the very beginning – my tastes are very different. You are a lovely girl to be sure, but to me you are just a ticket out to France.’

‘How so?’ Marion asked, standing up, and trying to process the information that Robert had just divulged.

‘You see, my parents made a bargain with me – that if I marry they will allow me to return to France. Otherwise they will detain me here and have me work alongside Brice looking after my father’s estate after William leaves for England.’

Marion shook her head. ‘I do not understand,’ she said, ‘You must marry in order to be allowed to go to France?’

‘Yes. Because while I was there all these past years, I did not show any proclivity for matrimony…or, you must know, for the company of women. This distressed my father greatly and caused my mother to threaten to drop herself onto a spear and bleed to death.’

‘Unless you married…appropriately.’

‘Yes,’ Robert said, ‘And your father, finding himself in debt to mine, had to promise you to me. Quite convenient, wouldn’t you say?’ Robert strode over to the dresser and filled a glass from a flagon. Marion watched the golden liquid splash into the receptacle, realization slowly dawning upon her. She was raised without much knowledge of sexual preferences such as those hinted at now by her new husband, but had heard enough whispers in the corridors, about others who shared Robert’s particular penchant, not to appear completely ignorant.

‘I suppose you would not have to perform your duty?’ Marion asked, with even greater hope in her voice.

Robert drained the glass and refilled it. ‘I must,’ he said, ‘or bring shame to the Murray name.’ He looked her over. ‘You women wear such voluminous garments. Perhaps you should begin to undress while I steel myself for the act.’

‘You make it sound so mundane. Is it not meant to be something beautiful?’

‘Oh, one of the romantic ones, are you?’

Marion’s eyes filled. This was not how she imagined her wedding night would be.

‘Here,’ Robert said, filling a glass from the flagon and handing it to her. Marion accepted the drink and sat down again on the edge of the bed, looking down at the liquid uncertainly.

‘And you would have me swallow this?’ she asked Robert.

‘Yes. Because I do not want you hollering… and crying… and carrying on while I am about my business with you.’

Marion looked down into the glass again. ‘ In that case…’ she said, and walked over to the window and tossed the contents outside.

Robert shrugged. ‘I did make an attempt to help you,’ he said, ‘and you would have none of it. Now come here and undress yourself… and then lie down.’

Marion began to tremble and her fingers were unsteady as she made an effort to unfasten her dress and unlace her stays. Robert kept drinking as she undressed slowly, reluctantly, until she stood before him clad only in her chemise. Marion averted her gaze as Robert threw off his shirt and began to take off his trews, leaving them half on as he threw Marion unceremoniously onto the bed, wrestling with the hem of her chemise. There were no preliminaries, and Robert began his swift assault on Marion’s virginity – awkward and inept. It would also seem that he was not sufficiently desirous of her as to ensure that the act progressed towards completion and before long he heaved himself off Marion’s body, leaving her intact, confused and relieved, all at the same time.