Page 12 of Married for a Highland Debt
Ninian looked after her, and had Bettina seen it, his expression had softened. This woman intrigued him. He had promised to marry her, but she was willful, contrary, and stubborn and said exactly what she thought when she thought it, regardless of the consequences. Life with her would never be dull.
6
When Bettina joined Kairstine in the parlor, she was sipping appreciatively at a glass of wine and looking at some of the gilt-framed portraits on the wall, one of whom was the current laird, Ninian Ogilvy.
“Is he not beautiful, Bettie?” she breathed. “He might be cold and hard, but look how handsome he is! What did you tell him?”
“I told him I would marry him,” Bettina answered. “I hope I have done the right thing, Kairstine.”
“You should talk to him, Bettie,” Kairstine said fondly, hugging her sister. “I am sure he will understand.”
“Do you think so?” Bettie asked doubtfully. “Look at the expression on that face, Kairstine.”
The rugged face stared out at the viewer with its usual belligerent expression, and the artist had captured the piercing blue of the eyes, which served to make it even more menacing. Ninian was dressed in a kilt and plaid of the Ogilvy tartan, which showed off his muscular calves. His equally powerful arms were folded across his chest, and a long basket-handled sword in a silver scabbard hung from a belt at his hip. He was a picture of total masculinity.
The portrait was life-size and dominated the room, rather like the man himself, and as she looked at it, despite her fear, Bettina felt herself responding to Ninian in the most primitive way, with a tingling and a sweet ache in her most feminine place. She felt a flutter of panic, imagining herself sharing a bed with this enormous man. Would he be tender or rough and impatient?
More likely the latter,she thought,although he is deeply desirable.
“I have never even kissed a man,” she said anxiously. “When we are married, I will be expected to do much more than that. It scares me, Kairstine.”
“And me,” Kairstine sighed. “But then, I am not the one who is being married.”
Just then, a maid came to escort them to their rooms, and Bettina had the bitter satisfaction of seeing that it was Myra, the head of the little gang of servants who did their best to make her life a misery.
“The laird says ye are each tae have a guest room,” she informed them. She frowned at Kairstine. “Who are ye?” she asked rudely, frowning.
Kairstine frowned back. “I am the sister of the laird’s future bride,” she answered. “Not that it is any of your business!”
Myra’s eyes were round with astonishment. “Ye...are marryin’ the laird?” Her voice was a squeak.
“Yes. Are you deaf?” Bettina replied, her eyes glinting with malicious satisfaction. “Now, please show us our rooms, and while you are about it, please have two baths drawn and brought to my room so that my sister and I can bathe. We like to be clean.”
Myra stared at them for a moment with her mouth hanging open, then she hastened to do their bidding. As she opened the door for Bettina to pass through, she cast her eyes downward in a gesture of submission that did not go unnoticed.
“You are the best gossip in the castle, Myra,” she said, laughing. “Now you have something really good to tell your friends. Go and spread the word!” She pushed the other woman out of the door, closed it behind her, and dusted off her hands. “I enjoyed that!” she giggled, looked around herself at her luxurious surroundings, and gasped in amazement.
The chamber was enormous, and it was dominated by a huge four-poster bed hung with crimson silk drapes. There were carved hardwood tables dotted around the room, each with a crystal bowl or copper vase of wildflowers on it, and the air was heavy with their perfume. The marble fireplace, burning with a bright blaze, had a crimson silk couch and two matching armchairs with fat satin cushions in front of it, and Turkish rugs in jewel colors were scattered around the polished wooden floor.
The sisters looked around each other in wonder.
“Do you think mine will be the same?” Kairstine asked, but before Bettina could answer, there was a timid knock at the door, and she opened it to find Lizzie standing there, shaking her head in astonishment.
“I just heard,” she breathed. “Is it really true, hen?”
“Yes, it is,” Bettina answered, hugging her friend. “He needs a wife, and we need a protector. It is as simple as that. No romance.”
“None at all,” Kairstine added, smiling. “I am Kairstine, Bettie’s sister. You must be the Lizzie I have heard so much about.”
“I am—but who is Bettie?” Lizzie looked confused.
“It is a very long story, Lizzie.” Bettina smiled, then turned as they heard another knock announcing the arrival of their baths. As they were set down, Lizzie took Bettina’s hands in her own rough ones.
“Are ye happy, hen?” she asked anxiously. “And dae ye think the laird will make ye happy? He looks so grim most o’ the time, I cannae help worryin’ about ye.”
Bettina sighed. “I can only hope so, Lizzie,” she replied.
“Then I am happy for ye, an’ so are Moira an’ Ina,” Lizzie replied, then she hugged Bettina. “An’ we will be here any time ye need us.”
