He smiled in darkness. 'I didn't think you would be,' he told her. 'You aren't afraid now, are you?'
'No, of course not,' she whispered. 'Thank you for being so concerned.'
Lord, she'd sounded polite. He was her husband and she was treating him like a stranger. Judith felt awkward… and vulnerable. She decided that she was just overly weary. She hadn't had much sleep at all since she'd arrived in the Highlands, and all the commotion hadn't helped.
She didn't have any intention of crying. The tears caught her by surprise. She knew she was behaving like a child, that she was being terribly foolish and emotional, but she didn't know how to stop herself.
'Judith?' His thumb brushed away one of the tears on her cheek. 'Tell me why you're crying.'
'There weren't any flowers. Iain, there should have been flowers.'
Her voice had been so soft, he wasn't certain he understood her. 'Flowers?' he asked. 'Where weren't there any flowers?'
He waited for her to explain, but she stubbornly remained silent. He squeezed her.
'In the chapel.'
'What chapel?'
'The one you don't have,' she answered. She knew she was sounding pitiful. She wasn't making any sense to him, either. 'I'm exhausted,' she added as an excuse for her confusing behavior. 'Please don't become upset with me.'
'I'm not upset,' he replied. He continued to rub her backside while he thought about the odd remarks she'd just made. What did she mean about flowers in a chapel he didn't have? She wasn't making any sense at all, but he decided he would have to wait until tomorrow to find out what was really bothering her.
Her sweet, warm body soon turned his thoughts to other matters. He couldn't touch her again, not tonight. It would be too soon for her, and she needed time for the tenderness to ease:
He couldn't stop himself from thinking about it, though. Within minutes he was hard and aching. It didn't matter. He would die before deliberately hurting her again.
Iain hugged his gentle little bride and closed his eyes. Patrick had told him that he would walk through the fires of purgatory for his Frances Catherine, and Iain remembered he had laughed over that ridiculous notion.
His brother had let all his defenses down. He'd allowed himself to become vulnerable. Iain had thought his brother was a fool. It was quite all right to care about a wife, but to let a woman rule a warrior's every action, to want to please her at every turn the way Patrick sought to please his wife, that simply wasn't acceptable in Iain's mind. No woman was going to run him around in circles. He knew he could never allow himself to become that emotionally involved. Oh, he cared for Judith, more than he'd ever intended, and now that she was his wife, he would allow himself to feel content.
He'd be damned if he'd become vulnerable, though.
He was extremely pleased that she loved him, of course. It would make her adjustment much easier.
Iain didn't go back to sleep for a long while. He continued to think about all the logical reasons he would never allow himself to be turned into a lovesick weakling like Patrick, and when he finally fell asleep, he had convinced himself that he would distance his heart from his mind.
He dreamed about her.
Judith slept most of the morning away. Iain had already left the chamber when she finally stretched herself awake. She felt stiff, tender too, and she let out a loud, unladylike groan before getting out of the bed.
She didn't have any idea what she was supposed to do now that she was the laird's wife. She decided she would have to get dressed and then hunt her husband down and ask him.
She had packed her pale pink gown and fresh undergarments in her small satchel. She took her time getting ready, and when she was finally finished, she made the bed and folded the extra plaid Iain had left on top of the quilt.
The great hall was empty. In the center of the table was a treacher filled with apples. A loaf of thick black bread was propped on one side of the treacher. Judith poured herself a goblet full of water and ate one of the apples. She kept expecting a servant to appear at any moment, but after waiting a long while, she decided they must all be outside, seeing to other duties.
Graham caught her attention when he started down the steps. She was about to call out to him, then stopped herself. The leader of the council didn't know he was being observed. His expression was unguarded. He looked terribly sad, weary too. He glanced behind him once, shook his head, and then turned back to the steps again. Judith's heart went out to the elder. She didn't know the reason for his unhappiness, and she wasn't even certain if she should intrude or not.
He was carrying a small chest in his arms. He stopped again when he was halfway down the stairs to adjust his hold on his possession, and then caught sight of her.
She immediately smiled. 'Good day to you, Graham,' she called out.
He nodded. She thought his smile was forced. She hurried over to the entrance.
'Would you like me to help you carry that?'
'Nay, lass,' he answered. 'I've got a good hold on it. Brodick and Alex are getting the rest of my things. Gelfrid's too. We'll be out of your way in no time at all.'
'I don't understand,' she said. 'You aren't in my way. Whatever do you mean?'
'We're moving out of the keep,' Graham explained. 'Now that Iain's taken a bride, Gelfrid and I will move into one of the cottages down the path.'
'Why?'
Graham stopped when he reached the bottom step. 'Because Iain's married now,' he patiently explained.
Judith walked over to stand directly in front of him. 'Are you moving out because Iain married me?'
'I've just said so, haven't I? You'll be wanting your privacy, Judith.'
'Graham, before Iain married me, I specifically remember you saying he had your support, that you agreed to this marriage.'
Graham nodded. 'That's true.'
'Then you can't leave.'
He raised an eyebrow over that statement. 'What does the one have to do with the other?'
'If you leave, it will show me that you don't really accept this marriage. But if you stay-'
'Now, Judith, that isn't what this is about. You're newly married and you deserve your privacy. Two old men would only be getting in the way.'
'Then you aren't leaving because you don't want to live under the same roof with an Englishwoman?'
The worry in her gaze was evident. Graham vehemently shook his head. 'If that was my feeling, I'd say so.'
She believed him. She let out a little sigh of relief, and then asked, 'Where do Vincent and Owen and Duncan live?'
'With their wives.'
He tried to move around her. She blocked his path. He didn't want to leave, and she didn't want to be responsible for forcing him out. The problem, of course, was his pride. She had to find a way to save that and get her way at the same time.
'How long have you lived here?' she blurted out, thinking to keep him busy answering her questions until she could come up with a sound plan.
'Almost ten years now. When I became laird, I moved in with my Annie. She died five years ago. I passed on the duties of laird to Iain six months ago, and I should have moved out then, but I lingered on. I've outstayed my welcome, I'm certain.'
'And Gelfrid?' she asked when he tried to walk around her again. 'How long has he lived here?'
Graham gave her a puzzled look. 'Three years now,' he answered. 'He moved in after his wife passed on. Judith, this chest is getting heavy. Let me pass.'
He once again tried to walk over to the doors. Judith rushed ahead of him. She pressed her back against the doors and splayed her arms wide. 'I'm not letting you leave, Graham.'
He was astonished by her boldness. 'Why not?' he demanded.
He sounded irritated, but she didn't think he really was. 'Why?' she asked.
'Yes, why?' he demanded again.
