Bedazzled

'Ain't it grand?' Meggie declared.

'It is as nice as my own family's houses,' India agreed.

'Come see the bedchamber!' Meggie enthused, hurrying to open the door. Diarmid remained discreetly in the salon.

India had to admit she liked her new bedchamber very much. The draperies were her favorite shade of rose velvet, as were the matching bed hangings. The bed itself had an eight- foot headboard of linenfold paneling, and the carved canopy extended on all four sides of the bed. The pillars holding up the canopy were carved with leaves and vines. The bed was made with her own scented linens, featherbed, and pillows. On each side of the bed was a table, and upon each table a silver nightstick and tiny snuffer. The fireplace opposite the bed was flanked on either side with delicate stone deer, a doe and a buck. The andirons were well- polished brass. By the fireplace a comfortable chair had been set, and next to it, a candlestand. A cushioned window seat was built into the large box window to the right of the bed. On the opposite wall was a small refectory table and two straight chairs. The rest of the furniture was the usual carved chests. On the table was a bowl of roses.

'It's lovely,' India finally spoke, 'and you have put everything away, bless you, Meggie.'

'Everything? Nay, not by any means, my lady. Diarmid and me will be busy unpacking those baggage carts for days,' the maidservant said. 'Let me take your gown now. You'll want a bit of a liedown before supper, I'm thinking.'

'I want a bath,' India asked. 'I cannot change from my riding clothes into another dress smelling of horses.'

'There's many that does,' Meggie observed. 'I've never known such a one for washing as yerself, my lady.'

'I'd rather smell of flowers than stink of my own sweat,' India replied. 'Water is good for the skin. It keeps it soft, and you want to keep that wild highlander of yours by your side, don't you, Meggie. I saw some pretty little faces in the hall below.'

'And let one of them try to make free with my husband,' Meggie said, glowering, 'and I'll snatch the trollop bald!'

India laughed, and then she sobered, realizing that she had felt the very same way about Caynan Reis. She very much doubted if she would feel that strongly about Deverall Leigh. Still, she was married to him, and would have to make the best of it, especially if she was to regain her son, Rowan. She had already begun by telling him she had been previously married. He had not, thank God, asked if she had had any children. She was not ready to share that with him. He might very well be glad she had not brought her child, not wanting another man's son in his house to raise. No. I must gain his favor and trust before I mention my child to this man, she thought with surety. He does not look sympathetic, or easily led.

She had a leisurely bath, and then napped for a short time. Awakening, she allowed Meggie to dress her in cream-colored silk brocade trimmed in lace, the gown prepared for the church ceremony here at Oxton. It was to take place this evening in the estate church. The earl had said that he wanted the official formalities celebrated immediately. Meggie affixed the Stars of Kashmir about her neck, and slipped the ear bobs into her ears. India touched them wonderingly. What history they held!

She descended the staircase to find him awaiting her. 'The church is but a short walk,' he said, handing her a nosegay of sweet white flowers and offering her his arm.

Outside, the sun was setting to the west over the Malvern Hills. To the east, the moon was rising. It was very still, and only the faintest breeze ruffled her curls.

The little stone church was filled with the servants, including Meggie and Diarmid. It was softly lit with beeswax candles. The minister greeted them, and announced to the assembled that, as the earl of Oxton and his bride had accepted the proxy marriage celebrated at Glenkirk on the thirtieth day of May, in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred and twenty-eight, they were legally and lawfully wed. Now, tonight, on this eighteenth day of July, he would give the blessing in God's name, on behalf of His Majesty, the king. The couple knelt, and the minister intoned, ' 'Those whom God hath joined together, let no man rent asunder. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.' '

'Amen!' the congregation replied.

'Now, my lord,' the minister said, his eyes twinkling, 'you are quite free to kiss your bride.'

India's eyes widened as his lips brushed her coolly. Kiss? She hadn't thought of kissing. And lovemaking! Oh, my God! In her anger and her eagerness to escape Glenkirk, she had put from her head these more intimate matters. About her, the assembled cheered, and the earl led her from the church.

'You are surprised I kissed you,' he said as they walked back to the house.

'It was hardly a kiss, my lord,' she replied. 'More like a butterfly brushing my lips.'

'Passion should be a private matter between a man and his wife, madame,' he said reprovingly. 'I could hardly avoid the formality when the Reverend Master Barton was encouraging me to it so publicly, and in such a loud voice. We would have disappointed the servants.'

'If I asked for a respite from your company tonight so I might recover from my journey, would we disappoint the servants?' she asked him boldly.

'You would disappoint me,' he told her. 'Besides, you had several days in your brothers' company at Queen's Malvern to regain your strength, madame.'

'I am not ready yet for a man in my bed,' India said frankly.

'Why?'

She stumbled, but he caught her up before she might fall. 'I don't know really. I just know I am not.'

'Obviously, your experience with men is slight,' he said quietly, 'but I am ready to have a wife in my bed, madame, and you are that wife. You are merely shy, which speaks well of your character. I am no monster.' And I cannot wait to have you in my arms again, you false bitch, he thought to himself. You will yield yourself to me whether you will or no. I have spent months dreaming of this night, and you will not deny me, India. You will never deny me again!

It had all gone as he had expected so far. She had not recognized the earl of Oxton as the dey of El Sinut. Why should she? The earl of Oxton had short, dark hair, a rather sinister scar marking his face, and was clean-shaven, which gave his high cheekbones and jaw a totally different look. He spoke English. The dey of El Sinut had had a close-cropped dark black beard that fringed his jaw and encircled itself sensuously about his mouth and chin. His skin was bronzed from the hot sun. He spoke French to her in a soft voice, the voice of a lover in the language of love. But when he made love to her tonight, it would not be as the dey of El Sinut had made love to her, all sweetness and passion. It would be as the earl of Oxton would make love to his wife.

He was yet angry with her. How could she have left him after declaring her love for him? When she was ripening with their child? Adrian had given him the answer when he had said India's loyalty to her family was greater than any other loyalty. If he had not been forced to flee El Sinut himself, he might have never found her again. And where was their child? He would, of course, have to reveal himself to her eventually if he was to regain custody of his child, but for the moment, he intended taking his revenge upon her. He could not believe her so insensitive that she would have left the child in danger of any kind. There was time. And did he have a son or a daughter?

They ate dinner in the little family hall. There were but the two of them. There were raw oysters brought to the earl which he swallowed with relish, his eyes making deliberate contact with hers at one point, and she blushed to her dismay. There was a small roast of beef; a duck stuffed with fruit and rice