In truth, she rather liked the scent. She’d had one similar until a few years ago—with heather mixed into the wool, though it had been old enough that the bouquet was no longer pungent. Ailsa had set about having new mattresses installed as soon as she’d come to Balmore—the sort with springs inside.
It occurred to her that she ought to add a chapter on it, toThe Lady’s Guide to All Things Useful. There were so many ways heather could treat ailments— from creating a brew for the easing of anxiety, to making a salve for rheumatism. ’Twas said to remedy both coughs and digestive problems. There were also those who claimed bedsport as a balm for almost everything. She wasn’t entirely sure she agreed, but perhaps that warranted a chapter too.
“Aye, the mattress is the old-fashioned sort,” Finlay replied. “Though don’t worry. It’s nae seen anyone else sleep on it. My mother had it made up especially, to mark our wedding.”
Margaret bit her lip at that tart reminder.
“You’re surely cold,” Finlay went on. “Why not let me come over, just for a few minutes, to warm you up?”
“That won’t be necessary.” She knew exactly what he was about, and if she let him under the sheets, there would be only one outcome. Regardless of how she felt about the marriage, the lure of snuggling into his body heat would be more than shecould resist. As for Finlay, he’d see it as invitation to a whole lot more.
There was an awkward silence, during which the big clock in the hallway downstairs chimed eleven.
“How about a game of cards then?” Finlay said cheerfully.
“Cards? Have you lost your senses?”
“A game of Maw, like we used to play. You remember, Magsie?”
“You can’t be serious? At this time of night?”
The excitement in his voice was palpable. “There’s likely a pack in the bedside. I keep some handy, in case I can’t sleep. Solitaire ye ken.”
He was padding across the floor. She heard a match strike and the lantern on the other side of the bed flared to life. Finlay began rifling through the drawer with one hand, the other holding up the blanket he’d wrapped around his waist, in lieu of the damaged kilt.
The mattress dipped as he sat down, looking at her expectantly. “Just for a wee while, then I’ll stop bothering you.”
Ha!
She knew full well Finlay would keep on at her until she gave in. Better to do so now and get it over with. Besides which, she’d always enjoyed the game. ‘Twould teach him a lesson to have her take him down a peg or two.
When she nodded, Finlay eased himself over, setting the cards between them.
“We’ll have a wager, shall we? To make it more interesting.” He began shuffling.
“I thought the idea was to tire us out, not whip us into a frenzy of card excitement.” Margaret surveyed him warily.
“Where’s the fun in that?” He grinned. “Besides, if all you’re wanting is to sleep, I know one surefire way to help that along.”
“Beast!” She punched his arm.
“I cannae help it.” The mischief danced in his eyes. “’Tis being with you. It brings out the animal in me.”
Margaret rolled her eyes. “Enough of that talk. We’ll play three sets. Hearts for trumps and aces high. Best of five hands wins the set, and whoever takes two of the sets is outright winner. Then, the lamp goes out!”
“Whatever you like, Magsie. Let no one say I can’t obey a woman’s command.” He wiggled his brows suggestively.
To her chagrin, her heartbeat was gathering pace.
Really! Are you so starved for male attention this is all that’s required?
“What are our stakes?” He paused in the shuffling, gazing at her intently.
Glancing down, she saw the sheets had slipped. There was naught covering her generous bosom but the flimsy nightgown.
Hastily, she pulled the covers higher.
Keep a hold of yourself! If you decide to bed him, ’twill be on your terms, just remember!