To Wed A Wicked Highlander

“Is that all?” she asked with rounded eyes.

He tried to stay the laugh that wanted to escape from him. “Nay, lass, there is much, much more.” He grasped her by the calves and gently pushed her legs up until her knees were bent.

When he pressed deeper within her, she clamped her eyes shut and cried out, “Yan, Tyan, Tethera, Methera, Pimp, Sethera, Lethera, Hovera, Dovera, Dik—”

“What are ye doing?” he asked through clenched teeth, his chest heaving. When she hesitated, he thought she was about to answer him. But her eyes remained shut and she continued to chant—louder.

“Yanadik, Tyanadik, Tetheradik.”

“God’s teeth, Sybella!”

“I count sheep,” she said, her voice cold and lashing.

His wife’s emotionless words killed his ardor like a bucket of ice-cold water. When Alex pulled back, Sybella swiftly rolled to her side, tugging the blankets away from him. She became as quiet as a mouse, her behavior unsettling.

Momentarily taken aback by her change in attitude, he swallowed hard, trying not to reveal his anger. He’d tried to be patient with her, but when his beloved wife purposely ignored him and did not even stir, he’d had enough. He promptly stood and grabbed his kilt and tunic from the floor. With one last look at the bed, he glowered at the wily female and stormed through the adjoining door. Her actions were as cold and empty as the bed she would sleep in this eve.

When Alex reached his chamber, he contemplated what the hell had happened. His mind turned to their embrace on the parapet. The lass had given in freely to the passion of his kiss. He would love to know what had changed between then and when he’d left her bed only a short moment ago.

He’d never forget the expression on her face. With her eyes clamped shut, Sybella’s look was one of pure torture. He was as gentle and careful as he could’ve been for her first time, but when his wife started to count sheep beneath him, that was the last straw. He would never forget the relief that crossed her face when he rolled onto his side. He wasn’t a total arse. He was going to stay and offer her comfort. But from the look of things, she wanted no part of it—or him.

Whatever his wife’s issues were, she had better get over them soon. He would be visiting her chamber often and would not think about leaving her alone until she became with child. He was disappointed in her. She had seemed so willing to start anew when he kissed her that afternoon, and for a brief time, he was foolish enough to believe they had an understanding.

He refused to dwell on his wife’s odd behavior any longer.

At least the MacKenzies would be leaving in a few short hours. Maybe then, he could finally get everything and everyone around him back to normal. That had not been the case for so long that he needed to remember exactly what normal entailed. Nevertheless, he had one less problem to worry about. His clan would be fed; his union with Sybella taking care of that.

And poor Aunt Iseabail.

Perhaps once all of the commotion had ended and everything settled down, she would have time to rest. The festivities seemed to be taking their toll. Although his aunt obviously favored the companionship of William MacKenzie, the last thing Alex wanted was another of Sybella’s pesky kin under his roof. By this time on the morrow, it would all be over.

* * *

With a long, exhausted sigh, Sybella pulled herself to her feet and then quickly dropped back onto the bed.

Her body ached.

No wonder. But at least the toughest part was over and she now knew what to expect—although it wasn’t nearly as insufferable as Mary had described.

Sybella rose from the bed, wanting to spend some time with Colin before he took his leave. When a feeling of loneliness washed over her, she willed it away. Everything would be all right. She would accept nothing less. Even though the last few days had unsettled her, she would smile and hold her head high when her clan left for home.

She pulled out her day dress and had turned to the bed when she noticed a spot of blood on the covers. Lifting her nightrail, she observed the same underneath.

Mary never mentioned blood.

Dear God.

Why was she bleeding? It was not her time.

There was a knock on the adjoining door. “Wife?”

The door cracked open and Sybella ran to close it, barely missing Alexander’s face. “Please donna come in here,” she said in a rush of words.

Her husband’s large hand gripped the door. “Why? What is amiss?”

She pushed again, but the door would not budge against the huge mass of her husband. “Please, Alexander. There is naught—”

He shoved the door open and walked through, stealing a glance around her chamber. “What is amiss?”

“’Tis naught,” she said with as much innocence as she could muster. She whipped the covers up on the bed and bunched up her nightrail, holding it to the side. When his eyes narrowed, she was keenly aware of his scrutiny. She continued to stare at him, feigning indifference.

He let out a long, audible breath. “Did we nae discuss that I will nae tolerate lies between us? It has only been one day, and already ye forget my words.” He leisurely walked over to the sitting area and pulled out a chair. “I will simply sit here until ye speak the truth.”

When she lifted her brow, he returned the same gesture and waited.

Sybella paled at the enormity of the command. She had not forgotten the words they spoke on the parapet, but she was intensely humiliated. She sat down on the bed, her fingers squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Alexander—”

“I am listening.” His tone was the same as if he were talking with a child. Pausing, he seemed to choose his words carefully. “I thought we had an understanding last eve. I expect the truth. Mayhap I wasnae clear in my purpose. When I ask something of ye, I presume ye would be honest. I told ye as much before. I donna tolerate lies.”

Why would he make her speak of this? He folded his muscled arms over his chest and was not going to relent. Why did this come as no surprise? She had no choice but to yield to his command. She was forced to speak the truth, no matter how humiliating, but she certainly didn’t have to look at him while she spoke.

“I bleed and ’tisnae my time,” she said softly.

“What?”

Sybella repeated her words louder and closed her eyes. Footsteps stopped in front of her and a hand rested upon her shoulder. When she did not glance up, Alexander sat down on the bed beside her.

“Lass, ’tis normal for your first time. The reason I called upon ye this morn was to tell ye I ordered a bath for ye. It should help to ease the soreness ye feel. There is naught to be ashamed of, and ye donna need to hide such things from me. I am your husband. We are as one.”

She was helpless to halt her embarrassment. “I…didnae know it was normal. When I saw the blood…”

He smiled warmly. “Didnae your mother speak with ye about such things?”

Sybella shook her head. “My mother became ill before she had the chance. There was only Mary.”

A strange look passed over his features. “Mary?” When an unwelcome blush crept onto Sybella’s cheeks, he grabbed her hand. “I am your husband. Tell me. What exactly did Mary say to ye about such matters?”

“Obviously, she didnae tell me about any bleeding.”

He patiently listened while Sybella repeated most of what Mary instructed her.

“And the sheep?”

“As I already said, I am to remain perfectly still and close my eyes. When that cluigean goes in, I am to count sheep to ease the pain.”

Alexander glanced sideways, and she swore he laughed and then covered it quickly with a cough. What was the matter with the man? He’d asked what Mary said, and Sybella had spoken honestly. After all, that’s what he