Knight in Highland Armor by Amy Jarecki Read Free Book Online Page B

fine.” She tried to keep her voice even.
    All too soon, the chambermaids took their leave. Margaret still perched on the stool. Alone. Would Colin come to her? Having feigned sleep the night before, her eyelids were heavy. Perhaps he would consummate the marriage some other time? But what about the old hens on the morrow? Her virtue must show on the linens. Shuddering, Margaret rose and blew out all the candles except the one on the bedside table.
    After she splashed her face in the basin, rubbed her teeth with mint leaves and rinsed, she climbed between the crisp linens and stared at the velvet canopy above her bed. She was married. Lady Margaret of Glenorchy.
    Her fingers clenched the bedclothes and tugged them under her chin.

Chapter Six
     
     
    Stirling Palace, 8 th October, 1455
    As if in a stupor, Colin stared at his ceremonial armor resting on the settee. He wore it only on special occasions. The suit had cost him more than his battle armor, yet it wouldn’t provide much protection in a fight. He’d now worn the suit in three weddings and to his father’s funeral. He hated the blasted thing and hoped never to wear it again.
    He groaned. His thoughts served only to delay his obligation .
    His squire had long since left. Wearing a linen shirt and woolen hose, he paced. Though he’d never admit it to a soul, the roiling in his gut was nerves. The one thing he must lawfully do was consummate this marriage. Until he performed his duty, Margaret would have every right to attest their vows had not been satisfactorily carried out. No doubt the queen’s women would examine the linens in the morning. If he did not perform his duty this night, he would bring scrutiny upon his house, and in no way would he allow such a social misstep.
    It must be done.
    Jonet, forgive me. You must know I’m doing this for our son. One day we shall meet again and I’ll rest beside you through eternity.
    Colin had only fathered two sons in eight total years of marriage. One had survived. Yes, Duncan was a healthy bairn showing promise for a long life, but it was Colin’s duty to ensure there was issue upon his death. If, God forbid, Duncan did not survive him, there must be another child ready to step into the barony. The survival of the Glenorchy line depended on it.
    He pushed out his chamber. He would perform the necessary deed and return to his rooms. Easy enough. Wedded twice before, he was more experienced than most men on their wedding night. She’d be nervous—he’d put her at ease and then carry out his duty quickly.
    Somehow he arrived at Margaret’s door much faster than he’d anticipated. He clenched his stomach muscles and knocked.
    “Lord Colin?” Her voice resounded through the door. The soft Highland lilt caressed his skin, sending a wave of gooseflesh up his arms. Colin frowned. Bed her and take your leave .
    He creaked open the door. Margaret lay on the bed, a single candle illuminating waves of brunette locks, her face glowing, pure. A cannonball sank to the pit of Colin’s stomach. Six years ago Jonet awaited him, nervous as a finch, eyes round. Except Jonet had greeted him with a smile rather than lips pursed into a bow. But circumstances had been different then.
    Margaret pulled the bedclothes tighter under her chin. “M…my lord. I thought you mightn’t come.”
    He stepped inside and closed the door. Her chamber unfamiliar, a peat fire glowed in the hearth. He grasped the latch and squeezed. No. Colin was a warrior, damnation. A warrior never turned his back on his responsibilities.
    He clenched his fists and strode toward the bed. “We’ve a task to perform.” His voice was gruffer than he’d intended.
    “A task?” Her knuckles turned white. “I-is that what you call it?”
    Determined, he grasped the hem of his shirt.
    She held the bedclothes firm. “M’lord,” she squeaked, skittish as a willow warbler’s call. “Would it be too much to ask if we could chat for a bit? Mayhap it will calm