Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,122
peace, she drifted off to sleep again, wrapped in the cocoon of her husband’s warm embrace.
They didn’t leave their chamber for two solid days. Richard ordered all their meals brought to their room. On the eve of their second night in seclusion, he had a tub brought in. His men carried in buckets of steaming water and not a one of them said a word. Aeschene had buried herself under the furs to avoid having to speak with any of them for she was completely devoid of clothing.
Once the last bucket was poured, Richard pulled the furs away from her. Pressing a tender kiss to her temple, he said, “Yer bath awaits, my lady.”
Aeschene giggled, thoroughly enjoying more of their playful banter. So much had changed between she and he. Gone was the biting tension, the nervousness, the worry that had kept them from enjoying each other.
Taking her hand in his, he led her to the tub and helped her in. She sank into the steamy water feeling every bit an adored woman. Leaning back, she let her head rest against the tub, the water instantly soothing her tired muscles. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath and sighed most contentedly.
Her relaxation was quickly interrupted by her husband. “What are ye doin’?” She asked with wide eyes.
“Tending to my lady wife,” he drawled most seductively as he smoothed a bar of soap down her arms.
“Relax,” he said encouragingly.
“How am I to relax when ye’re doing that?”
He chuckled mischievously, never taking his eyes from her as he drew the soap over her arms and shoulders. Rivulets of water cascaded across her skin, glimmering in the candlelight. Lord above, he would never tire of loving her, of hearing her soft sighs of pleasure, of hearing her call out his name when she was in the wild throes of passion.
With great care, he poured water over her hair. Lathering soap in his hands, he washed every strand of her glorious locks. It took monumental strength not to pull her from the tub and make sweet love to her, especially when she moaned and sighed with delight. “That feels so very nice, Richard.”
His need burgeoned painfully. Not wanting her to think he was a lecher, he took his time rinsing her hair as he gently massaged her scalp. Part of him wanted this moment to last forever. Another part of him was trying to free itself from his trews.
When he could take no more, he helped her to stand. Her skin turned to gooseflesh as he poured more warm water over her shoulders. She began to shiver in the cool air. He wrapped a drying cloth around her and lifted her out of the tub. “God’s teeth, ye are beautiful,” he whispered on a gentle kiss.
He loved her quite thoroughly that eve, until they were both out of breath and their bones feeling as strong as jam. Aeschene had fallen asleep, curled and nestled next to him. Richard however, lay awake for a long while, thinking about how much his life had changed of late.
He loved his wife, he truly did. But something - and just what that something was he couldn’t quite put his finger to - kept him from giving her those words. It could have been simply fear that kept him mute. Fear that she didn’t love him quite the same way he loved her. Or, more likely than not, it could have been lingering guilt. Guilt that he was loving and enjoying his wife while his family lay dead in the cold hard earth.
Mayhap someday, he would be able to give her the words.
For now, he would be content in simply admitting to himself how he felt.
But someday he would give her the words.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Fast asleep in her husband’s arms, Aeschene startled at the sound of someone knocking on their door. She sat upright, her mind foggy with sleep. The loud knocking propelled Richard from the bed in a flash, his sword drawn as quick as lightning.
“Richard!” Came Lachlan’s voice as he pounded on the door once again.
Richard grabbed a drying cloth from the back of the chair and wrapped it around his waist before opening the door. The keep better be under attack, he groused to himself.
“Richard! The Farquars have attacked again.” Lachlan said in a rush.
“Where?”
“Same as last time. Along our western border,” he said. “They killed Seamus’s boy, Traigh.”
Aeschene gasped from the shadows as she sent a prayer of peace to Traigh’s parents.