A Forbidden Night with a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #1)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

I t had been three days since the last time Alicia had slept in peace. No matter how much she tossed and turned, sleep evaded her night after night, and by the time dawn broke onto the horizon, she gave up on the thought of getting any sleep. She spent her days exhausted, roaming from room to room in the castle like a ghost haunting the place, but her exhaustion was past the physical.

Her mind was exhausted, too, plagued by visions of the life that awaited her. Though Emmeline had tried to protect her and Katherine from finding out the truth about her marriage, it was no secret that she suffered by her husband’s side. It was no secret she despised him, disgusted by the mere sight of him.

Alicia’s fate would be no different, she knew. She would go down the same path, already forced to accept it and soon forced to live it, to be trapped in it for the rest of her life.

This night, too, she could not sleep. There was no point in trying to force her mind to rest, so instead she stood and made her way through the silent, shadowy hallways, heading to the library.

Just as always, when she opened the door to the room, a sense of calm washed over her. It was a small comfort, knowing that she could always retreat to such a place, though she could only hope her future husband’s castle would have a library as the one her father’s boasted.

The library of Castle MacCallum was a large, tall room, the walls stretching far over Alicia’s head. There was nothing to light her way there at that time of the night, so she grabbed one of the torches from the hallway outside and brought it in, illuminating the towering shelves that lined the walls to her left and right. The far wall, though she couldn’t see it, was reserved for portraits of her ancestors.

Alicia took care to light some of the candles around the room, placing them near the couch where she would sit, before she began to browse the books under the light of the torch. Many of these books, she had already read and others she had no desire to read. The only one she truly wanted was long gone, lost in the fight outside that tavern.

Instead, she selected something at random and sank into the couch cushions, opening it to the first page.

Chatelaine de Vergy. How dreadful.

A love story, but not one that ended well for anyone involved, though perhaps it was more fitting than anything which featured a happy ending. Alicia had read it before and even then, without the looming threat of an unwanted marriage over her, the ending had weighed heavily upon her.

Still, she settled on the couch, legs drawn up as she began to read. It wasn’t so much the story that interested her as the act of reading itself, the familiar words easing her mind and pushing all the insistent thoughts and panic away. Soon, she fell into a rhythm, turning page after page as the time trickled by.

So absorbed was she in her task that she didn’t even hear the door open. It was only when she heard a polite cough that she looked up, alarmed, only to see Samuel there, standing by the door.

Instinctively, she glanced out of the window, expecting to see a light blue sky, but it was still dark. There was no light in the room other than that of the torch and the candles, and what little poured in through the open door, so she couldn’t have lost track of time. Dawn had not yet broken through the horizon and yet Samuel was there, lingering by the door as if he expected an invitation.

“It’s very late,” Alicia said in lieu of a greeting.

“Aye, so it is,” said Samuel, and he must have taken it as an invitation, at least, since he finally stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “I was wonderin’ why ye were here so late.”

“I could ask ye the same,” said Alicia, placing her finger between the pages to mark her spot as she closed her book. “Why are ye here?”

Samuel gave her a small smile as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a familiar book. Its cover was a little stained, but otherwise, it seemed like the very same one Alicia had purchased that night at the tavern.

“I thought I would bring this tae the library,” he said.

Shocked, Alicia stared at him and the book, wondering if he had gone all the way back to the tavern just to retrieve it. How long had he held onto it? Had he read it or had he simply assumed it was something she shouldn’t read?

Vaulting off the couch, she tried to grab it, but Samuel was faster. He pulled the book back and Alicia barely managed to steady herself on the armrest as the momentum carried her past the edge of the couch, her feet meeting the floor with a thump.

“It’s mine,” she reminded him. “I paid fer it.”

With a sigh, Samuel placed the book on the small side table by the couch and came to sit next to Alicia, waiting for her to turn and face him before he spoke. “Why would ye wish tae read such a book? Dae ye even ken the filth?—”

“I’m scared.”

There. There is nae point in lyin’ about it.

Samuel frowned; his words brought to a halt by Alicia’s admission. “Scared? O’ what?”

Cheeks heating at the thought of saying more, Alicia drew her bottom lip between her teeth. But why should she be the one embarrassed? Why should she blush and stutter when it was Samuel who was pushing for an answer and her father who was forcing her into this marriage unprepared in the first place?

They should be ashamed, nae me. Laird MacTavish an’ the king should be ashamed.

“Scared o’ me weddin’ night,” Alicia said, forcing herself to meet Samuel’s gaze, difficult as it was. “I am bein’ thrown tae the wolves an’ I dinnae even ken anythin’ about what happens between a man an’ a woman. How can I nae be scared?”

It was Samuel’s turn to blush. It was almost comical, Alicia thought, how bright his cheeks were under the soft light of the candles, how wide his eyes as he tried to look anywhere but right at her. Had it not been for the fear that gripped her at the thought of her wedding night, she would have teased him relentlessly about it.

Samuel was silent for a long time, though he opened his mouth as if to speak several times before closing it again, changing his mind. When he finally spoke, he did so hesitantly, slowly, as if he was picking his words very carefully.

“I dinnae think a book will help ye much with this, lass,” he said. “An’ I understand… I understand it can be terrifyin’ but ye will be fine. I promise ye.”

“How can ye promise such a thing?” Alicia demanded, anger rising within her. “I’m sure it was easy fer ye, but it isnae as easy fer a lass. I wish tae ken an’ I have nay one tae ask, so this book it is.”

Samuel took a deep breath, his gaze once again flitting around the room. Suddenly, he drew a small knife out and began to fiddle with it, gently touching the sharp tip against his finger, just so that he had something to do with his hands. Alicia recognized the nervous gesture; it was one she often mirrored, if not with knives, then with whatever was at hand.

“Alright…” he said, mumbling as if to himself. Then, he finally looked at Alicia, meeting her gaze. “It isnae always the same, but I assume fer yer weddin’ night, Laird MacTavish will be considerate. Perhaps he will undress ye or he will request that ye undress yerself.”

As Samuel spoke, he tripped over his words again and again, stuttering in a way she had never heard from him before. At first, Alicia wasn’t certain what he was saying, but then it dawned on her: he was going to explain everything she wanted to know to her.

The blood rushed to her face instantly, flooding her cheeks, and had she not been sitting, Alicia was certain she would have swayed on her feet, the embarrassment too much to bear. Samuel seemed just as embarrassed as she was, breathing shakily and pressing that knife harder into his skin.

Can I truly allow him tae explain it tae me? But then, who kens better than him? He had a wife. He had a weddin’ night o’ his own.

Alicia didn’t have the time to stop him anyway, not when he continued to speak quickly, as though he feared he would be silenced forever if he stopped. “Ye will lie on the bed, on yer back an’ he will, uh… kiss ye. Yer lips, yer neck. Yer body.”

It was Alicia’s turn to draw in a shaky breath as she imagined it. It wasn’t Laird MacTavish she saw in her mind, though, or some faceless man. It was Samuel, his lips pressing against hers, brushing over the sensitive skin of her throat, then moving lower, over her breasts. In her thoughts, those blue eyes stared right into her as he kissed a path down her body, his blonde hair untied and sending a shiver through her as the locks swept over her torso.

It could be a trick of the light, she told herself, but she could have sworn in that moment that Samuel’s gaze was filled with heat as he looked at her, eyes catching at the rise and fall of her chest.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Then he will… he should prepare ye.”

“Prepare?” Alicia asked with a frown, the question coming out in a breathless whisper.

“Aye,” said Samuel, gaze falling to her lap. When Alicia realized what he was looking at, a new rush of color flooded her face.

“How?”

“With his… with his fingers,” said Samuel, half choking on his words. “Or perhaps his mouth.”

Throughout the course of the conversation, Alicia found herself suddenly closer to Samuel, both of them drifting towards each other, caught into each other’s orbit. He was so close now that they were sharing the same air and she could see the flames reflected in his eyes, his pupils blown wide.

She only partly understood what he meant. As a curious young woman, she had dared to touch herself a few times in the bath, fingers brushing gently over her core in a way that had sent a spark of pleasure up her spine, so she could understand how such a thing might prepare her, give her pleasure. Would he kiss her there, too? The thought of Samuel kissing her there made her heart skip a beat, warmth pooling deep in her belly. When she shifted her legs restlessly, she felt that wetness had gathered between them, warm and viscous.

“And then?” she prompted.

Samuel swallowed; the movement visible in his throat. “Then he will e-enter ye. With his manhood.”

Time seemed to stand still between them. Alicia imagined falling back on the couch and spreading her legs, asking Samuel to kiss her and take her and show her everything she was meant to know. Would he do it, she wondered? Would he give her what she wanted?

Slowly, she reached for him, fingers brushing over his knuckles at first. When he didn’t pull back, she took the knife out of his hand and placed it aside, then tightened her grip on him.

Samuel stared at her with wide, hungry eyes, glinting in the candlelight, and Alicia found that she wanted to be devoured. Maybe she should have come to the library only with her night shift, she thought. Maybe she could have enticed him then, the thin fabric showing off her curves.

But he hadn’t even been tempted when he had seen her nude. How could he be tempted when she was clothed?

A strangled sound left Samuel’s lips and he pulled back abruptly, rushing to his feet. He stood there for a few moments, swaying just a little as he looked at Alicia, that same hunger still there but now subdued as if he was actively trying to fight it.

Before she could say anything, Samuel fled, boots thundering against the floor as he made for the door. He said nothing either. He only left, leaving the door wide open in his escape.

Alicia gazed at the space he had occupied only moments prior before she sighed, disappointment weighing heavy on her. On a whim, she took the knife he had left behind and twirled it in her hands.

It was never enough. No matter how much she wanted him, she could never have him.