Page 44 of Anice’s Bargain

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Atroubadour’s voice rose up through the great hall and captured the attention of everyone in the great hall. Everyone except Anice.

How could she possibly concentrate? James sat beside her, his legs casually spread, one strong thigh nearly brushing hers. She could scarcely breathe, for the heat of his body so close to her own. It was a simple thing, she knew, but coupled with the memory of his kisses, with her entire body longing to burn with their shared passion, it was nearly unbearable.

She flicked a glance up to see if he watched her, and his gaze darted quickly from her to the troubadour. A smile tugged at her lips.

He had been observing her.

No doubt, he was the only one, with everyone else so enraptured in the troubadour’s tale. Emboldened by this knowledge, she pushed her legs toward James, so her thigh pressed against his. He shifted his attention back to her. There was something in his stare, bright and eager. A shared desire.

Lust.

She took a hasty swallow of wine to wet her suddenly dry throat. The aching heat between her thighs left her agitated, consumed with anticipation for the very powerful maleness of him.

He rested his hand on his knee in a casual gesture none would assume was amiss in any way. Beneath the cover of the table, his fingers slid over her skirt, brushing at her thigh. Her breath caught.

She settled her right hand on his where the ring tying their souls together sparkled alongside the ruby from her mother.

The troubadour finished his song and the hall erupted into applause. James withdrew his hand to clap along with the others.

The food was brought out then, heaps of quality meat with thick, savory sauces and fluffy baked bread. Nan had been working at preparations for the better part of the week and it truly showed.

Only, Anice could hardly taste a bite of it. How could she when she was consumed with the low-burning simmer in her stomach? Her sisters, her servants, her friends—they had all gone to such lengths to ensure her perfect wedding feast. Through it all, she could think of nothing more than James’s hands and mouth on her, his sword and her sheath.

She had to swallow a giggle down on the last one.

After the feast she had not tasted, and the glass of wine she couldn’t swallow, came the dancing. James and Anice were the first to grace the cleared area of the great hall, their movements stiff and formal beneath the gaze of all in attendance. But as other dancers began to join in, as they became more obstructed from view, James pulled her closer, letting his touch linger longer, until she could take no more.

She tilted her head toward his own. “Surely it is time for bed, is it not?”

“God, I hope so.” His hands on her tightened, a possessive flex of his fingers.

After the music had drawn to a close, James held her hand aloft. “Ye all may drink and dine ’til morn, but I’ve a wife to see to now.”

The rowdy calls and cheers answered his statement. That he would keep her up through the night, that they both might be thoroughly exhausted the next day, that she might ride him well.

Anice was inclined to agree with them. Except the latter, of which she was rather uncertain in its meaning, but she intended to find out.

Laird Graham pushed through the crowd. “We have to ensure the consummation happens.” He narrowed his shrewd, glittering gaze. “We canna have ye backing out of the agreement with an annulment if it isna consummated.”

It will be a failure.

Leila’s words inserted themselves into Anice’s thoughts once more, a loud cry of warning.

“Nay.” James stepped in front of Anice. “The ceremony of putting us to bed willna happen.”

“It happens,” Laird Graham growled, “Or this marriage doesna exist.”

“’Tis fine,” Anice said quickly. The less arguing done, the more quickly they could be upstairs together. Alone. Naked.

If this marriage was truly doomed for failure, she would at least enjoy it for the pleasures she could reap. For too long, her body had hungered with curiosity at what transpired between a man and a woman, beyond swords and sheaths mimicked with fingers and hands.

Laird Graham rubbed his hands against one another and summoned the lot of the party. They walked them to Anice’s chambers, which would act as the marital bed until they left for Carlisle. Except no one had the patience to stay to see them disrobed and put to bed, not with the free-flowing spirits and platters of remaining food remaining at the great hall.

Ella, however, did take a moment to pluck the blue ribbon from Anice’s hair, hugging it to her chest. No doubt her heart was filled with dreams of marriage for love, a marriage of her choice.

Anice was beyond such girlish dreams. What she wanted now, she wanted as a woman.