Surrender (27 page)

Graemme turned his back and went over to
sniff the pot of hearty mutton stew. He rubbed his stomach as if he
was already savoring the meal.

"Eh? Chores? Like what?"

"I desire to eat now."

He pulled out one of the chairs and seated
himself. She went over and did the same. Squat, expecting a juicy
bit of meat at any moment, ran over to sit up on his buttocks and
beg. He looked from one to the other and waited. Neither person
moved.

Graemme tilted his head and lifted his left
brow, questioningly.

"I repeat. I desire to eat, wife."

She didn't move but folded her arms across
her chest. "If ye think I'm going to serve ye, ye'd best think
again! Ye brought me here. Ye serve
me
!

A goodly time went by. When he nodded, she
almost chortled. She had won this round. Opposite the fireplace was
the kitchen area. A wide shelf built under a window contained a
basin, pitcher, pewter cups and plates.

He stood and went over to pick up the only
two bowls and spoons. He stirred the pot then filled the top bowl
with the steaming food. She expected him to set it in front of her,
but instead, he left the two bowls cuddled together and returned to
his seat with them.

Why, he was eating what should be her bowl!
So this was how he was going to be? She'd just wait him out. He
didn't bother to glance her way but continued to eat until he was
sated. Her mouth began to water. She looked forward to his eating
his last and leaving the table to her. Instead, he took the second
bowl, poured what he'd left in his own into it and set it in front
of Squat.

"Here ye go. Ye are a good watch dog and will
let us know if any wild animals come sniffing outside the door,
right?"

Elyne had to clamp her teeth together to keep
her mouth from falling open. At Raptor, she'd always taken food as
her right without having to perform any special duties for it. Why,
she was the Chief's daughter!

"A proper wife serves her husband without
fail. When she doesna, she finds she eats last—even after the
hunting hounds."

"I…am…not…yer…wife!"

"Get used to it! Ye are as much my wife after
our betrothal as ye will be saying yer vows afore the priest."

Squat pushed the bowl all over the room,
savoring each little droplet. Graemme surprised her when he got up,
rescued the bowl and placed it with his in a basin beside a bucket
of water. Without looking at her, he opened the door and called
Squat to him. They both went out into the night.

Glaring at the dirty bowls, her mouth drooled
so much she didn't have a choice except to clean one of the bowls
so she could eat. She preferred the one Squat had licked clean.
After washing it, she ate quickly, taking just enough to satisfy
her hunger so she'd be finished before he reappeared. 'Twas not the
smartest thing she had done this sennight, for the food was so hot
she burned her tongue on the first spoonful.

Of course, she had restacked the dirty dishes
to appear the same as he had left them.

When he opened the door wide to let the dog
in first, the fresh air scented with pines made the fire flicker.
Elyne had barely reached the bed before he came in and latched the
door. In front of the fireplace, animal skins thick enough for
leisurely bed sport looked warm and inviting.

Picking up the nearest pillow, she threw it
on top of the furs, following it with one of the wool blankets. She
expected him to protest. He didn't say a word.

Graemme stretched and yawned in front of the
fire, enjoying the warmth on his chilled body. Unbuckling his belt,
he let his clothing drop to his feet. Bending, he picked up the
wool cloth and folded it neatly. He had no need of its warmth when
a fire was at hand. After he placed his sword on the floor, he
padded around naked. He went to the pitcher of water and poured
himself a glass, not because he was thirsty, but so he could see
what she'd done with the food bowls. At first glance, they looked
the same, but since he'd put Squat's on top and it was licked shiny
clean, he saw it now had remnants of food on the sides.

So, she had washed and eaten hurriedly. He
had expected she would do so, since he'd given her plenty of time
to appease her hunger and her pride. No doubt, she expected him to
demand he share the bed.

He would not.

Walking around the big room, he inspected the
different trunks along the walls. One held bedding, another spare
wool kilts. In the kitchen area, a wooden box with a tight lid held
bags of oats and barley, different herbs, root vegetables and
bottles of ale and wine. Everything needed to sustain them for the
sennight was there. He'd provide the fresh meat.

Her gaze heated his loins, but he forced
himself to relax and pretend he was unaware of her scrutiny When he
knew he had stretched and bent enough to interest any woman with
blood in her veins, he pinched out the candles and banked the
fire.

Still naked, he stretched out on the furs and
breathed a long yawn of comfort. Making sure he could touch his
sword with his fingers, he closed his eyes and pretended to drift
off to sleep. It was hard to do when he could near feel her gaze
traveling from the tip of his head down to his toes—with long stops
along the way.

It wasn't long before she was tossing and
turning in her bed. For a lass who readily took to bed sport, she
was as uncomfortable as he. To hide the evidence of just how
uncomfortable
he
had become, he snored and turned over on
his side, his back to her.

It worked. Not only did he eventually wilt
but she finally went to sleep. He slept with his lids near open as
he did when he was alone in the woods.

Somewhere in the wee hours of the night, he
sensed she was awake and stealing out of bed. When she edged past
him, she walked on her tiptoes and carried her boots. He waited
until she thought she'd been successful before his fingers
tightened around her ankle.

Elyne shrieked like a spider had wrapped his
legs around her. It awakened Squat, who started barking and running
around the room, searching for an intruder.

"Goin' somewhere?

"Again?"

Elyne shook her foot, but Graemme held
fast.

"I have need of a private place, ye
lout!"

"A private place? Ye have all the privacy ye
need."

"Ye well know what I mean! There are no, uh,"
she waved her arms to take in the whole room, "provisions for a
woman's comfort."

"Ah. Ye need to piss?"

Elyne's face turned rosy as a ripening
apple.

"It's the middle of the night. Ye canna go
into the woods. There are all sorts of woodland creatures which
roam close to a hut or lodge."

"I am not afeared of a stray dog or fox!"

"Ah, 'tis more than such mild creatures. Wild
dogs and foxes become used to men throwing bones and uneaten food
outside. One might think ye a rare haunch of mutton!" He released
her ankle and sprang to his feet. "Wait here."

Sliding into his boots without lacing them,
he went outside and returned quickly with a bucket. He banged it
against the stone of the fireplace to rid it of creatures which had
made it their home.

"No need to worry. There's a lean-to out back
for horses. I guess this one held oats, since crawling things have
tried to eat it clean."

Elyne watched in horror as he knocked several
spiders out into the flames. Icy chills went up and down her back,
making her feel as if the creatures were crawling over her. She
shivered and pulled her clothing tight, trying to rid herself of
the awful thought.

He peered in the bucket and nodded. She
supposed he meant it was now empty? Taking a hand, he rubbed all
over the outside, the bottom and then the inside before slamming it
down in front of her.

"Here ye go. All empty and ready for ye."

"Ye expect me to use a bucket? Here?" She
looked around, but there was no private place she could use except
the back corner. It was in shadows.

His gaze followed hers. "Ah. Ye are no
blushing innocent. I'll turn my back."

"I'll not use a bucket! 'Tis for an uncouth
lout, not a lady!"

"Hm. I'm neither uncouth nor a lout, but the
crone made it necessary for me use a bucket for a throne." He
looked down at the bucket then up at her.

"Ye deserved everything the old crone did to
ye."

His face tightened into a grim mask.

"Lady, consider yerself lucky ye dinna have
to go into the woods where any sort of creature could come sniffing
after yer arse. One as pale and ivory as yers would shine like a
rushlight to a wild pig."

What was she to do? She could not do anything
so personal in front of him! 'Twas bad enough in the woods, but at
least outside there was a sizeable bush to help hide her. Here
there was naught!

She plunked down on one of the chairs beside
the table and crossed her legs. Could she possibly hold out until
daybreak?

Graemme put his hands on his hips and watched
her. When she wouldn't budge from the chair, he shook his head and
sighed. Likely he was at the end of his patience. She refused to
acknowledge him. If he was anything like her father and thought she
was being a pain in his arse, he'd likely fly into a rage.

She focused her attention on Squat instead.
He'd slept on the floor with Graemme and hopped up when the man
did. Since then, he'd followed him everywhere he went. Was the dog
hoping he'd be still long enough they could go back to sleep?

Graemme's footsteps didn't near, which was a
good thing. She heard him dragging something across the floor and
dared to glimpse what he was doing. He pulled the chest with the
bedding over to the corner of the room and placed it an arm's
length from the corner.

Trying hard to ignore him, she lowered her
head and stared at her toes. After a few breaths, she peeked
through her lashes again. He had gone back for the smaller chest of
extra kilts and woolens. When he bent over, he spread his legs and
used them to help pick up the chest.

She made a strange sound when she spied his
ballocks swinging between his legs. She cleared her throat and
coughed a little in case he thought the sound had been one of
interest.

He grunted when he picked it up and placed it
atop the linen chest.

Bleh! She could tell he chuckled from the way
his shoulders moved. Unfortunately, he turned as she was composing
her face to appear unconcerned. She didn't think he would believe
it for she could feel heat rising from her chin to her brows.

He walked over to the bucket and marched back
to deposit it in the corner behind the chests.

"Now, my lady, ye will have privacy
apleanty," he said with a courtly bow.

"Are ye going outside?"

"Do ye think I have no wits? If I were gone
more than a breath or two, ye'd drop the latch in place and slam
the bar across the door."

Elyne knew she didn't have time to argue.
Even though she made a mad dash across the room, she barely made
it. Sighing with relief, she was grateful she'd not left a trail
behind her.

After they both went back to bed, Graemme had
a hard time returning to sleep. She had surprised him with her
modesty, for she acted like she was unused to having a man about
when she was unclothed. And even though she had a reputation for
watching men bathing at the well, she blushed and was surprised at
his bare flesh.

Was she used to seeing men from afar but
didn't have the same experience of them within touching distance?
When he remembered the lack of any blood after their first bed
sport, the thought made him frown. She had been so tight he'd
expected to break through a barrier. Perchance, she'd had one
encounter and didn't like the experience enough to repeat it?

He grinned, for she liked it well enough with
him. Had he been standing, he'd have preened like a fool. Squat
became tired of Graemme's tossing and turning, and once Graemme
turned on his side, the dog used his paws and legs to scoot himself
back firmly against the man's warm chest. Graemme automatically put
his arm over the warm bundle and ruffled the hair on its head. It
gave Graemme the peace he needed, for not long after he yawned and
finally closed his eyes and slept.

o0o

Elyne was afeared to open her eyes, for she
didn't know what the day would bring. Her life had turned upside
down—not for the first time—and she needed time to adjust and put
the changes in their proper viewpoint.

She winced, for it wasn't as horrible as when
she'd seen her father near kill Ranald. Nor could she compare it to
her fear when a foolish man kidnapped her, thinking her ransom
would make him rich. When Chief Broccin threatened to behead the
man, she near fainted.

Young women were married off all the time. At
least Graemme had all his teeth and hair. And he was young. Bed
sport wasn't a thing to dread and make her want to cover her face
with a pillow. In fact, she had been pleasantly surprised to have
liked it as much as the servant girls had at Raptor.

The lower classes had the freedom to make
sport with anyone they liked. She didn't know many knights' wives
who had a satisfied air. Since Ranald had returned from the Abbey
and was a frequent visitor to Raptor Castle, no one feared rape.
When he'd first arrived, he'd dealt harshly with any man who had
taken a woman by force. Even their father knew better than to
try.

She dared to peek through the lashes of her
lowered eyelids and breathed a sigh of relief. Graemme must be
outside, for she didn't see him. Bounding out of bed, she took care
of the necessities and quickly changed into her smock and
kirtle.

Graemme must have relented, for two clean
bowls and wooden spoons waited on the table and a pot of porridge
sat to the side of the fireplace to keep warm. Since he had made an
effort to be polite, she decided she would see if he was ready to
break his fast.