By Honor Bound Part 14

They did not take her to her former chamber. Talcoran had been given an apartment in the palace, and it was to his bedroom that they conducted her. Elen's possessions had been moved there during the feast, and now all was in readiness for the bride.

Her friends removed the blue silk gown, her unders.h.i.+rt, stockings and shoes, and slid over her head a s.h.i.+ft of linen so sheer and fine that it settled on her shoulders and swirled about her body like a mist. Her hair was combed again. Gruach kissed her. "Get into bed," she said.

Elen had just slipped beneath the covers when the door burst open and Talcoran was pushed into the room. He was followed by Macbeth, Bancho and his son Fergus, Conal mac Duff, and a few other n.o.bles who were his friends. They were all full of wine and mead, and laughter and ribald jokes. Even the usually solemn mac Duff was smiling broadly.

Talcoran's clothes had been removed, and he was wrapped in his dark woolen cloak. Macbeth stepped forward and stripped the garment off his shoulders, leaving Talcoran naked. When Elen looked away, blus.h.i.+ng, there was a roar of laughter, "Put him into bed," Macbeth ordered. Mac Duff and Fergus pushed Talcoran under the covers. He sat bolt upright beside Elen.

"I call you all to witness," Macbeth declared, "that Talcoran and Elen of Laggan have been bedded together."

"Shall we stay and witness the rest?" inquired one overly jubilant n.o.ble. "We should make certain the marriage is legal."

"No," Gruach said, arching a brow at her husband. "It is time to leave."

"Aye." Macbeth laughed. "We've done our work for the night. Now it is Talcoran's turn. You know what to do, my friend."

"Do you need any help?" asked the drunken n.o.bleman.

"He does not!" Macbeth chuckled, pus.h.i.+ng the fellow toward the door. "Let us leave them."

There was another burst of laughter from the men. Crania pretended embarra.s.sment, and young Fergus put his arm about her. As the revelers filed out, Bancho winked at Elen.

The door was scarcely closed before Talcoran leapt out of bed to bolt it securely. When he headed back to the bed he faced a wide-eyed Elen.

She had never seen a naked man before this night. Although Talcoran was not as tall as most of the other men she knew, he was well proportioned. Strong muscles rippled as he walked toward her. His legs were straight, his hips narrow, his belly flat. There was a mat of smooth, silky black hair on his well muscled chest. She knew from experience the wiry strength of his arms. She was surprised to see that he was tattooed halfway up each forearm with a ring of tiny blue circles. There was another small design on his left shoulder: a circle, a triangle, and some other mark that looked like a tiny fish. He had narrow hands and feet.

He stood by the bed, his proud look challenging her, his masculinity clearly evident. She could feel her cheeks growing hot. Feeling compelled to say or do something, she fastened her attention upon the tattoo on one of his arms.

"What is that for?" she asked, indicating the marks.

"It is a Pictish custom. You have not married a Scottish n.o.bleman, Elen."

"I married the man chosen for me by my king." She regretted the words as soon as they were out of her mouth. She had not intended to remind him that she was an unwilling bride. But he did not seem to notice either the words or her

embarra.s.sment.

He leaned toward her. He caught at a strand of her hair that had fallen forward over one cheek, and wound it about his fingers.

"Black as a raven's wing," he murmured. "You are beautiful, wife." He drew the last word out, savoringit."I do not think so," she said. "I am too tall and thin.""Will you contradict your husband?" There was a teasing note in his quiet voice, a tone he had neverused with her before. "I think you are beautiful."

"I had thought you would prefer a shorter woman." Afraid he would misunderstand her and be angry, sheadded quickly, "Someone blondeand pink.""It does not matter that we are the same height." He sat beside her now, still playing with her long, soft hair. "A man cannot grow taller than G.o.d meant him to be, but he can increase his stature among men by

his deeds.""If that is true, then you are a giant, my husband." Elen stumbled over the unfamiliar word, but she wasrewarded by a smile from Talcoran. "I have never heard anyone say aught of you but that you are honestand brave and loyal to your king."

"He has rewarded me well." Talcoran's hand had strayed to her shoulder. He pushed at the wideneckline of her linen s.h.i.+ft. His lips found the hollow of her throat and lingered there.She began to tremble. She wanted to shove him away, but she dared not. She was hispossession now. She must be a good wife to him. She must try to please him.He seemed to sense her fear. He withdrew from her throat, then spoke as if he had read her mind."I know I am not the husband of your choice, Elen. But if we deal fairly with each other, it is possible that we will not be unhappy together. I will never be cruel to you so long as you are honest with me."

She suddenly recalled a night more than a year ago, when he had escorted her to her room after a royal feast, and she had realized how shy he was. She had felt sympathy for him then, and now she felt the

same emotion. How dreadful it must be to be made to marry a woman who did not want him. How sad to try to be kind to her and receive nothing in response.

She made herself touch him. She smoothed back the straight black hair and traced the harsh planes of his

dark, tanned face. His skin was cool and smooth. She stroked his bristly beard and outlined his firm

mouth with her fingertips.

He sat still, waiting patiently as she ran her fingers along the corded muscles of his neck and felt the strength of his shoulders. When she laid her hands flat upon his chest, a shudder went through him. He stood up with a sudden movement.

"I have a gift for you," he said.

He went to a carved wooden chest that stood against the wall. He lifted the lid and took out an object.

Returning to the bed, he put it into her hands. It was a smooth white pebble, painted all over with small blue circles, like the designs tattooed on his arms.

"It is a charmstone," he told her, his dark face serious. "It is used to treat sick people, and it will keep you safe."

"Another Pictish custom?" she teased lightly, meeting his eyes with a smile.

"I want you to have it, for luck." "I will treasure it. Talcoran"-her voice began to shake as she continued, knowing what they must do in a few minutes, fearing it, yet unable to deny a tiny flame of excitement that had begun to burn inside her-"the room is cold. Would you not be warmer in bed, beneath the covers?"

"I have no doubt I would." He got into the bed beside her and gathered her into his arms. She s.h.i.+vered as she felt the length of his naked body through her s.h.i.+ft, and the weight of his arm across her waist, but it was not a totally unpleasant sensation.

His mouth covered hers and she willed herself to respond to him. She was surprised that it was so easy. He was gentle, teasing her with soft, light kisses on her face and throat and shoulders. His kisses went on and on, never stopping, but never advancing to anything else. He did not speak, but somehow she understood that he would do no more than this until she indicated that she wanted him to go further. Eventually, she did. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled his head down to hers for a longer, harder kiss.

Still he was gentle, treating her with maddening care, and she could have wept with the sudden need that welled up in her. She wanted something more. She wasn't sure what.

"Please, Talcoran-I don't understand," she gasped. She found to her astonishment that she was writhing against him, aching for his touch, wondering if he would ever put his hands on her. "I want, I want."

At her words, he changed. The cautious gentleness was gone and in its place was a boiling, seething pa.s.sion, as Talcoran appeared to lose all control over himself. His mouth bruised hers when he forced her lips open and thrust his tongue into her, seeking her response with fierce determination.

She was caught in a whirlwind. Where before Talcoran had lured her with his measured, slow kisses, now everything was happening too fast. She could not stop him; she could not even make him go more slowly. He kissed her again and again, following his own inner rhythm, heedless of her feeble attempts to hold him off so that her heart could slow its furious pounding while she gathered her wits and cleared her mind. He was coaxing, urging, no, forcing into life feelings she had never known she had, sensations she had never dreamed existed. She realized that her own self-control was slipping.

He tore at her s.h.i.+ft, pulling it off her shoulders and finally tearing it down the front in his eagerness to reach her body beneath it. Through the blinding, dizzying sensations of yet another violently sensuous kiss, she felt his hands on her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s. He was doing something to her nipples, something that created an exquisite wave of pulsating heat deep inside her.

He dragged his mouth away from hers. She tried to pull him back. She experienced a desperate, painful need to drink from his lips again, but he denied her longing, and his mouth fell on her breast instead, with a moist, sucking motion that drove her near to madness.

She twisted and moaned and thrust her hips at him, no longer knowing or caring what she was doing. His hands caressed the smooth skin of her flanks with long, languorous motions that should have calmed the fever building in her, but instead only made it worse.

She cried out as he buried his face in her belly, and his hands stroked lower, over her hips and b.u.t.tocks, caressing, sliding across the surface of her thighs, his palms flat on her inner thighs as he separated them. His fingers touched her in the most secret spot of all, probing gently. She was suddenly aware of his stiff manhood throbbing against her thigh.

"Elen." His voice was a hungry gasp. "I will try not to hurt you."

She nodded, not really certain what he would do next, conscious only of the dull, gathering ache in the center of her body that must end soon or she would die of it.

She felt something pus.h.i.+ng against the place that ached, something soft, yet hard, that thrust, and thrust again, and then, meeting an obstruction, began to hurt her. She moved her hips to get away from the discomfort, but in her confusion she pushed against him, and with a long, tearing slide, he was inside her.

Her scream of pain was smothered by his mouth, and then his full weight was on top of her. He would not release her mouth, he was sucking the very life out of her, and now he was moving inside her, hurting her again. She tried to make him leave her alone, but he was too strong for her to push him away, and all of her efforts seemed only to fuel his pa.s.sion to an incredible level of intensity.

Gradually, amid her struggles, she became aware that something peculiar was happening. The pain had stopped, and in its place faint ripples of pleasure flowed out of the center of her being, lovely warm sensations.

She ceased to fight him, recognizing that it was Talcoran who was creating this unexpected delight. Her body was moving by itself, matching Talcoran thrust for thrust. She sensed there was something more that would happen, something just beyond her reach. She clutched at him, pulling him harder against her, wanting whatever it was, that sweet, elusive thing.

"Elen, Elen," Talcoran gasped. He stiffened and buried his face in her neck before he cried out again. " Elen!"

It was over, and the soft, lovely feeling was gone.

"No," she moaned. "Not yet. Talcoran, don't stop."

There was total silence. Then she heard a m.u.f.fled laugh from somewhere near her left ear.

"Lady, was that an invitation?" Talcoran's mouth found hers in a kiss so deep and tender it nearly made her weep. "I regret I cannot accommodate you at the moment. But soon, my sweet. Soon."

He settled on one elbow and pulled the shreds of her s.h.i.+ft across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"I seem to have inflicted more damage than I intended." He bent his head and kissed the tip of a breast that peeked out from a tear in the fabric. It was sensitive from his previous a.s.sault on it. She uttered a soft cry. "I'm sorry it was necessary to hurt you, Elen."

"It was only for a moment." She stared at him, amazed at the feeling of tenderness that flooded over her. She touched his face with a hand that shook a little. He turned his head to kiss her fingers.

"It will be better the next time," he promised.

"It was very nice this time," she whispered shyly, ignoring the hungry ache that was only slowly releasing its grip on her.

"I hope that's true." He laid his head on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His steady breathing soon told her he was asleep.

She pulled the fur cover up over his shoulders and smoothed down his hair. He had forgotten to put out the candle.

Let it burn, she thought. She wriggled down into the bed, fitting herself against him. If he wakes, he may want to do that again, and if he does, I want to see his face.

Talcoran had already left when Elen awakened the next morning. She was conscious of a sharp sense of loss. She had wanted to wake beside him. She wanted him to kiss her and put his hands on her and do the thing he had done last night, so that she could feel again that lovely warm sensation and perhaps achieve whatever it was that lay beyond, that she had just sensed but had not quite touched.

Ava told her he had gone out, saying he had some business of the king's to attend to. He had not said when he would return.

Wondering if, in her innocence, she had displeased him in some way, Elen got out of bed and prepared to attend the queen. Ava produced several bronze hairpins and began to comb Elen's hair. Today, for the first time, the rich, thick ma.s.s of her hair was braided and twisted and pinned up in the ornate arrangement of a married woman.

"My lord Talcoran told me to give you this," Ava said, handing Elen a little carved wooden box.

Inside it lay six small gold b.a.l.l.s, ornaments for her braids. Ava twisted them securely into her hair as she arranged it, then stood back to observe the effect.

"You look well, my lady," Ava said. "Is he a good husband?"

"You should not ask such a thing." There was no reproach in Elen's voice, only a note of wonder. She touched the hair ornaments with gentle fingers. Then she put the charmstone Talcoran had given her into the little wooden box.

"I will keep this near me," she said.

Fionna was with Lulach in the queen's quarters when Elen arrived.

"Gruach is sitting with the king, listening to pet.i.tions," Fionna said. "Crania and the others are with her.

She thought you would prefer to spend your day privately and asks that you bear Lulach company."

Her former pupil produced his prayer book and a slate. Elen began once more instructing him in his lessons.

"My mother says, now that you are married, I must have a priest to teach me," Lulach said.

"That sounds like a very good idea. Talcoran and I will have to leave court soon and travel to Laggan, so that he can inspect his new lands."

"But not until spring. You must stay at court for Christmas. It is so nice now that Malcolm has gone.Besides"-Lulach gave her a sly look-"if you wait until spring you may be big with child, and then you can't travel, and you can stay here longer."

"Lulach!" Elen shook her head at him, trying to appear stern, but secretly amused as he a.s.sumed a wise,adult expression. "Whoever put such a thought into your head? You are growing up too fast."

"I'll be thirteen next month, and I've become an expert with the broadsword. My weapons instructorsays so. And Macbeth discusses affairs of state with me now," the boy added proudly.

"Does he?" Elen thought her cousin probably did talk to his stepson of such matters, although