He raised a brow.
"Well… " Abruptly, she glared. "I don't know!"
Unwisely, he grinned.
She slapped him across the chest. "Don't laugh! I've never felt so at sea in my life!"
His grin turned wry. "Why?" Catching her hand, he headed for the bed, towing her, unresisting, behind him.
"I don't know Well… yes, I do. It's you."
Reaching the bed, he turned and sat, pulling her to stand between his thighs. "What about me?"
She frowned at him; holding her gaze, his expression mild and questioning, he set his fingers to the buttons of her carriage dress.
After a long moment, she grimaced. "No-that's not it either."
Frowning absently, she reached for the pin securing his cravat, slipped it free, then slid it into the lap
el of his coat. "I'm not sure what it is-just something unsettling-something not quite in its right place." Frowning still, she flicked the ends of his cravat undone, then fell to untwisting the folds.
Richard held his tongue and let her tug his cravat free, then obediently shrugged out of his coat and waistcoat before helping her from her dress. Sitting again, he drew her to him; trapping her between his knees, he started unpicking the laces of her petticoat.
She was still frowning.
"Did my reception surprise you?"
She looked up. He pushed her petticoats down.
"Yes." She met his gaze squarely. "I don't understand it." One hand in his, she stepped from the pile of her skirts. "It was as it you were"-she gestured-"someone they'd been waiting for."
Closing his hands about her waist, Richard drew her back, locking her between his thighs. "That's how they see me, I think."
"But…why?"
For one minute, he kept his gaze on the tiny buttons of her chemise as he slipped them from their moorings. Then he lifted his gaze and met her eyes. "Because I think they fear for you-and thus, indirectly, for themselves. I showed you the letters. I imagine, if you asked, you would discover many of your household have their own suspicions of your neighbors and the threat they pose to the vale."
Looking down, he separated the two halves of her chemise, now open to her waist, and drew the sleeves down. She shivered as the cool air touched her flesh, but lowered her arms and slid them free.
Raising his head, he trapped her gaze. "They see me as a protector-for you, the vale, and them"
Her frown wavered, then she grimaced. "I suppose that's what the consort is supposed to be."
"Indeed." Richard closed his hands over her bare breasts and felt her tremble, heard her indrawn breath. Her lids drifted low, he brushed his thumbs over her nipples, and she shuddered.
"The Lady chose me for you, remember." Drawing her closer, he kissed her, then whispered against her lips "She chose me to be the one to wed you, bed you and get you with child. Chose me to defend and protect you. That's how your people see me-as the one The Lady sent for you."
"Hmmm." Her hands rising to his shoulders, Catriona leaned into the next kiss.
A minute later, he pulled back and urged her on to the bed, divesting himself of his clothes as she slipped between the sheets. Then he joined her, moving immediately over her, spreading her thighs wide and settling between. He fitted himself to her, then, settling heavily upon her, framed her face with both hands and kissed her deeply-as he pressed into her.
He slid fully home, then stopped and lifted his head, breaking their kiss. "I told you I won't undermine your authority." He pressed deeper still, then lowered his head. "Just trust me-it'll all settle into place." In the instant before his lips reclaimed hers, he whispered: "Just like this has."
She couldn't argue with that; as she instinctively eased beneath him, supple and soft as he rode her slowly, deeply, Catriona relaxed, and did as he asked, and put her trust in him.
It wasn't, of course, how she'd imagined things would be. She'd thought to be the assured one, the one to do the reassuring, secure in her position as she eased him into his new role. Instead, the shoe seemed to be on the other foot, with him sliding effortlessly into a role she hadn't known was waiting for him-and having to reassure her of her own.
But here, in their bed, she didn't need reassurance. He'd taught her well, taught her all she needed to know to love him. So she clung to him and gave to him, uncaring of how the future might unfurl.