A Winter Wedding: Strangers at the Altar / The Warrior's Winter Bride

Though it was July, it felt more like April. She made haste with her ablutions. Without the help of a maid, she laced her corsets loosely and tied her hair into a simple knot before pulling a woollen dress from her trunk. The colours, broad stripes of cream and turquoise, made her think of a summer sky that bore no resemblance to the one she could see through the window. The narrow sleeves were long, the tight-fitting bodice made doubly warm with the overlapping kerchief-style collar that came to a point at her waist. Woollen stockings and boots completed her toilette in record time. Reluctantly, she abandoned the idea of wrapping her cloak around her, telling herself that a lesson in hardiness was in order.

The corridor outside was dark and windowless. The fading daylight darkened by the deluge that had erupted as she arrived yesterday had prevented her from gaining any perspective of her new residence. Exhaustion had set in once she had eaten, and Ainsley had retired almost immediately afterwards.

Start the way you mean to go on. Muttering Madame Hera’s own advice like a charm, she stumbled her way towards the door where she had dined last night, cheered by the faint smell of coffee. The room looked much more attractive in the daylight, and the fire, which last evening had smouldered, today was burning brightly. ‘Good morning,’ she said.

Innes was seated at the table, staring moodily at his empty plate, but he stood when she came into the room. His jaw looked raw. Most likely he’d shaved in water as cold as she’d used to wash. Perhaps he simply wasn’t a morning person. Ainsley hovered at the door.

‘Are you staying or going?’ Innes asked, and she gave herself a little shake.

‘Staying,’ she said, seating herself opposite.

‘I didn’t know if you’d want tea or coffee, so I had Mhairi bring both.’

‘Coffee, thank you.’

He sat down and poured her a cup. ‘There’s crowdie and oatcakes, but if you’d prefer a kipper, or some ham or porridge?’

‘No, that will be fine—at least— What is crowdie?’

‘Cheese.’

‘Thank you.’ She took the oatcakes and creamy cheese. ‘This looks delicious.’ Innes poured himself a cup of tea. ‘Have you eaten?’ she asked, cringing as she spoke, for she had already noticed his empty plate, and she sounded as if she was making polite conversation over the tinkling of teaspoons in an Edinburgh drawing room.

‘Yes,’ Innes said.

Ainsley bit into an oatcake. The crunch was embarrassingly loud. She took a sip of coffee. It sounded like a slurp. This was ridiculous. ‘Innes, would you prefer...?’

‘Ainsley, if you would prefer...?’

He stopped. She stopped. Then he laughed. ‘I’m not used to having company at breakfast. I don’t know whether you’d prefer to be left in peace, or— What?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not any more accustomed to it than you. It’s silly, I know it’s silly, but it feels strange.’

‘Would you rather I went?’

‘No. Unless you’d rather—’ She broke off, laughing. ‘For goodness’ sake, I’d like you to stay, and I’d like to talk, but not if we’re going to make polite chit-chat for the sake of it.’

Innes grinned. ‘I am more than happy to promise never to make polite chit-chat, though I would like to know if your bedchamber was comfortable—and please, give me the real answer, and not the drawing-room one.’

Ainsley chuckled. ‘One does not mention a lady’s bedchamber in the drawing room.’

‘Actually, that very much depends on the drawing room,’ Innes said, smiling. ‘Let me put it another way then—did you manage to sleep, or were you frozen to death?’

‘I slept, but I confess I dressed very quickly.’

‘I’m sorry about that. It seems that my father had the main part of the castle shut up and took to living in just two or three rooms. This place is sound and dry enough, but it’s been empty awhile, and Mhairi had little notice of our arrival, as you know. She gave you that bedchamber because it was the best of a bad bunch.’

‘She apologised for the fact it was several rooms away from your own,’ Ainsley said, flushing. ‘I got the impression she was worried the effort it would take to walk the distance would put you off. I confess, it did not do my ego much good to think my husband would be so easily deterred.’

‘If I thought I would be welcomed into your bedchamber for a bout of debauchery, not even a chastity belt would deter me,’ Innes said wickedly.

‘’Tis a shame I cannot lay my hands on such an item, else I would be tempted to test your resolve.’

‘Don’t be too sure, there are all sorts of things in the armoury,’ Innes replied. ‘Debauchery and chastity belts—who’d have thought that conversation over the breakfast cups could be so interesting?’

‘I did not introduce the topic of debauchery,’ Ainsley said, spluttering coffee.

‘No, but you did say you didn’t want to make polite chit-chat.’

‘Innes Drummond, you should have considered entering the legal profession, for you can twist an argument better than any lawyer I’ve dealt with—and believe me, I’ve dealt with a few.’

He gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Very well, we will change the topic, though it is your own fault, you know.’

She eyed him warily. ‘I am very sure I should not ask what you mean by that.’

‘Then do not.’

Ainsley took a sip of coffee. Innes folded his mouth primly. She took another sip, trying not to laugh, then finally cast her cup down in the saucer with a clatter. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, you win. Tell me what you meant.’

‘No, for it is not true, it’s not debauchery I think of when I look at that mouth of yours, it’s kissing.’

‘Just kissing.’

‘Not just kissing.’ Innes leaned forward over the table and took her hand. ‘Kissing. There’s a difference.’

He was teasing. Or was it flirting? She wasn’t sure. She didn’t think she was the kind of woman that men flirted with. Did she amuse or arouse? Was it possible to combine the two? Ainsley had no idea, but she knew he was not laughing at her. There was complicity in the way he was looking at her, and something in those beguiling blue eyes of his that made her tingle. ‘What difference?’ she asked, knowing she ought not, sure that if she did not she would regret it.

Innes lifted her hand to his mouth, just barely brushing the back of it with his lips. ‘That,’ he said, ‘was just a kiss.’ He turned her hand over. ‘This,’ he said softly, ‘is the difference.’

His lips were warm on her palm. His tongue flicked over the pad of her thumb, giving her the most delicious little shiver. When he enveloped her thumb with his mouth and sucked, she inhaled sharply. ‘You see,’ he said, his voice husky. ‘There is only one problem with those kinds of kisses.’

She knew exactly what he meant. She was experiencing that very problem. ‘More?’ Ainsley said, meaning it as an answer, though it sounded like a request.

‘More,’ Innes said, taking it as a request, pushing back his chair, leaning across the table, doing just as she asked.

* * *

He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but he couldn’t resist, and when she did not either, when she opened her mouth to him and twined her arms around his neck with the most delightful little sigh, his teasing kiss became something deeper. She kissed him back. The tip of her tongue touched his, triggering the rush of blood, the clenching of his muscles, the shiver of arousal. He slid his hand down to her breast under the shawl that formed part of her bodice, only to find himself frustrated by the bones of her corset, by the layers of clothes. A knife clattered to the ground, and they both jumped.

He was hard. He was very glad that the table lay between them. Ainsley’s face was flushed, her lips soft, eyes dark with their kisses. The urge to pull her across the table and ravage that sinful mouth of hers was unbearably tempting. What the devil was wrong with him that he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her! Sitting carefully back down in his chair, Innes thought ruefully that it had been the same right from their first meeting. Why hadn’t he realised it would be a problem? Was it a problem?

‘Mhairi could have come into the room at any moment,’ Ainsley said.

Innes ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Is that why you kissed me?’

She picked up a teaspoon and began to trace a pattern on the table. ‘Actually, you kissed me, though I cannot deny that I kissed you back,’ she said, looking at him fleetingly from under her lashes. ‘I don’t know why, save that I wanted to, and I haven’t wanted to for... And ever since I met you I have and—and so I did.’

‘I can’t tell you how relieved I am to hear that, because it’s been exactly the same for me.’ Innes swallowed a mouthful of cold coffee and grimaced. ‘I never was one to toe the line, you know. Maybe it’s because our bargain precludes it that I’m so tempted.’