He stood up and stalked across the chamber to swipe something off the floor.

“Those rules are exactly why I am telling you that she shall not be turned out by you.” Jemma followed him, determined to gain her wish.

“Ye are nae making any sense, woman.”

“Exactly.” He snorted at her triumphant tone. “You do not understand because running the house is a woman’s duty. I would not comprehend many of the things that you order your retainers to do because I am not a man and was not raised to understand the duties that are yours. So I tell you again, Gordon, leave Anyon be. I set her down and will do whatever else is needed.”

He drew in a stiff breath, his expression remaining inflexible. “Except that Anyon is nae causing trouble over her duties, she’s questioning my devotion to the vows I took with ye.”

He shook her dressing robe out with a snap that betrayed how much his temper was still burning. He held it open for her, and she lifted one arm with confusion turning her mood dreary.

Was he going to send her back to her old chamber now that he’d had her?

She couldn’t help but think it. Too many couples that wed for the same reasons they had slept apart.

Well, she would not whimper. She was a woman now, not some child wed too early because of her fortune and her groom’s taste for a girl in his bed who would be simple to dominate because she was too young to know her own thoughts. She would also speak her mind even if it displeased her groom. Her heart ached, the tenderness that had been hers but a few moments ago now wilting.

“I am your wife, Gordon, and I shall do whatever is necessary to run this house. Your doubt insults me. Do you want a wife or a pampered princess who is useless besides her ability to take your seed?”

He cursed. Jemma held her chin steady while she knotted the tie to keep her dressing robe closed.

“’Tis something I understand, lass, the need to know yer word is respected.” He picked up his kilt and wrapped the fabric around his waist a few times before tossing the rest of the fabric up and over his shoulder. It lacked the normal pleats and wasn’t as accommodating to his stride, but he seemed to care little about that. He yanked the door to the chamber open and grabbed a rope that hung next to the threshold. He yanked it several times before turning around and sending the door shut with a hard motion that slammed it.

“I’ll grant ye that, lass, the need to nae be thought too weak to command those under yer authority.”

“Thank you.”

He laughed, and it was not a kind sound. Gordon covered the distance between them, and she was able to see his expression once again. It sent a shiver down her spine because this was not a man to cross, not in his current frame of mind. Something dangerous glittered in his eyes.

He lifted one finger and pointed it at her as the sound of booted feet began to pound on the stairs leading up to their chamber.

“But be very sure that I will be setting the matter clear as far as me men go.”

Whoever was on their way up the stairs didn’t stop to knock on the chamber door. They pushed right inside, and Jemma found herself stepping back into the shadows the edges of the chamber offered because her confidence in being so scantily covered did not extend to anyone except Gordon. Two of Gordon’s captains tugged on the corners of their bonnets and kept their gazes on their laird while they waited for him to tell them why they had been summoned.

Gordon pointed toward the bed. “There seems to be some discussion about my bride’s purity. Ye will witness the fact that she came to me a virgin and that there was no blood on the sheets this morning as I did nae jump on her last night the moment the doors were sealed like some beardless boy that does nae know how to stroke his bride’s passion. We were interrupted last night before I got to deflowering her and I am nae happy to hear there has been talk to the contrary.”

Several women entered the open door in time to hear their laird’s words. One was the cook that pressed her lips into a hard line. The woman slept in the kitchen and had clearly come straight from her bed, for her long hair was hanging down her back in a single thick braid.

She joined the captains near the bed and lifted a candle lantern high to illuminate the sheets. Jemma stepped back farther into the shadows, tears prickling her eyes. It was ridiculous to cry over such an expected thing. Being English only meant she dare not overlook any detail. Brides suffered such exhibitions all over the world; it was very unwise to allow it to upset her so.

“Now begone and make sure it is known that I will nae have the matter questioned.”

“Aye, Laird.”

The captains offered Gordon a tug on their bonnets before quitting the room. The cook snapped her fingers at the other maids who had arrived behind her, and she herself pulled the soiled sheet from the bed while they brought forward a clean one.

“Leave the sheet on the table since it is raining.”

“Aye, Laird.” The cook did as instructed before snapping her fingers at the maids once more and shoving them toward the door. It closed behind them in a hard sound that drove a spike through the last of her heart.

She shouldn’t expect anything different. It was the way things were and the world was an imperfect place. Mustering her strength, she walked toward the door, intent on playing her part, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to stop and lower herself before leaving. It was too submissive, and Gordon would know it was false.

Well . . . the doors were shut so she would be herself while behind them.

For the moment all she truly craved was an end to her duties as bride.

Chapter Nine

“Where are ye thinking to go, Jemma?”

That dangerous note was still in Gordon’s voice. Her fingertips had not yet even touched the door.

She turned to discover him moving toward her. “Clearly we are finished consummating our union. I wish to sleep.”

He stopped a single stride from her and aimed a hard look at her.

“Ye sleep here.”

“But—”

He didn’t care for her hesitation and he acted upon that displeasure just as quickly as he had always done, scooping her up and carrying her to where he wanted her. He reached into the bed and yanked the tie open before reaching behind her to pull the dressing gown up and over her head with one powerful motion of his arms. She was dropped back onto her knees with nothing except her hair to cover her.

“Here, Jemma. Ye want me to respect yer authority over the house, then ye shall accept my will when it comes to how to manage me men.” He tore his plaid off and crawled into bed with her. His cock was hard once more, and she shivered because no matter how much her feelings ached, she desired him.

“Ye sleep here, in the place that I never brought Anyon or any other who was not my wife.”

He pulled her up against him, binding her to his larger body with solid arms.

“That will send the message to my men that there is no doubt who is mistress here.”

He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth, demanding compliance with one hand cradling the back of her head to hold her still for the ravishment. Sweetness flowed from the kiss, soothing the raw emotions that had sliced at her. His cock was hard against her, but Gordon finished their kiss and lay down behind her. He bound her to his length with strong arms, tucking her head beneath his chin and pulling the bed covers up to cover her. One of his feet tucked over hers, but he did nothing to try to relieve the swollen cock that was hard against her bottom.

He sighed, nuzzling against her head and inhaling the scent of her hair.

“Do not think me harsh, Jemma. Men are different from women.”

Confusion settled over her, but the trust that she had felt so strongly overwhelmed it. The corners of her mouth tugged up into a satisfied grin. His body was so warm against her, his arms so tender, and the night the perfect shield against the harsh reality that sunrise would bring.

“You never brought anyone here, to this bed? Not even your first wife?” Her voice was soft, and she heard him sigh behind her.

“I changed chambers after I gave Imogen her wish to join a convent. I could nae stomach sleeping in the bed she detested so much.”

“You wouldn’t call Anyon your mistress?”

He snorted. “A mistress is a woman a man has affection for, Jemma. All I did with Anyon was take what she flaunted beneath me nose. I see that she was scheming now, but I did nae at the time.”

A hint of weariness reflected in his voice. As laird there were many times that women had tried to secure what they wanted from him by offering him tumbles.

“I shall have to make sure I flaunt myself before you often so to keep you from noticing any others.”

She heard him draw in a stiff breath. Jemma nibbled on her lower lip while she waited to see what his response might be. Many a bride had also been forced to face the fact that her husband would wander where he pleased, with whom he pleased, and she would be expected to remain silent upon the matter of his indiscretions.

“’Tis something I will look forward to, lass; indeed, I will mostly likely dream of it tonight.” He groaned. “Now go to sleep, Jemma, else I lose the restraint to keep out of ye while ye are yet so tender.”

He stroked her hip and she allowed her eyelids to shut. There was comfort and tenderness in his embrace, and she allowed it to carry her off into slumber.

“Mistress?”

It was Ula who woke her. Jemma rubbed her burning eyes and tried to focus her thoughts. Her mind was a foggy mess that defied her demands to clear.