Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,74

can keep these two hellions busy, and I do mean busy, they will not have time for mischief, if ye get my meanin’.”

He did. She could almost hear the man smile. “Verra well, they can thatch me roof.”

One down, a few dozen more to go.

Richard managed only a few hours of sleep before he was awakened by the sounds of the construction taking place on the keep. He could have slept for a week had his strong work ethic allowed it. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he climbed out of bed. The cold water he splashed on his face felt good and invigorating. He pulled on clean clothes, slipped into his boots and went to help his men.

He didn’t return again until it was time for the evening meal. Aeschene was waiting for him in their bed chamber.

As always, she looked resplendent and beautiful. Tonight, she wore a simple green wool dress with tapered sleeves and the same silver belt draped around her waist. A long braid hung over one shoulder, the tip almost touching her belt.

“Richard?” she spoke as he entered the room.

“Aye, ’tis me,” he answered as he paused in the doorway, drinking in the vision as a parched man takes to water.

Clasping her fingers together, she smiled up at him. ’Twas a warm, sincere smile that said she was glad to see him. “Did ye manage any sleep at all?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Aye, a few hours,” he replied, ignoring the urge to take her in his arms and kiss her as he had done the night before.

“How goes the construction?” she asked, not moving from her spot by the bed.

“Well,” he replied went to wash up. He pulled his dirty tunic off and tossed it to the floor. His boots and trews followed soon after. He was silent as he poured water into the basin. It was not the icy cold water he’d grown accustomed to over the years. He supposed he owed the act of kindness to his wife. He supposed he should thank her. But he was too tired at the moment.

Lathering soap, he scrubbed his face, neck, arms and hands clean. He rinsed off with more of the warm water and began to feel slightly better.

“I imagine ye worked up a good appetite,” Aeschene remarked.

He hated small talk, especially when he was tired. “Aye,” he answered, doing his best to stifle a yawn.

After pulling on a clean tunic and trews, he sat on the stool and stuffed his feet back into his boots. It never entered his mind to ask her how her day went.

Aeschene waited patiently for him to ask that little question. There was much she wanted to discuss, much she wanted to tell him. She did not need eyes to know he was tired. She could hear it in his voice.

Mayhap, once he’d eaten a good, hearty meal, he’d feel better and more inclined to discuss her day.

Black Richard was quite surprised to see his younger brothers already seated at the table. Even more surprised see they weren’t fighting. ’Twas something he could not recollect ever witnessing before. Lachlan, Daniel, and Rory were already seated, as was Marisse. They were all speaking in a calm manner he was not used to hearing at his table.

“Are they ill?” he asked his wife as he guided her to her seat.

Aeschene giggled softly. “Nay, just tired.”

“Tired?” he asked, raising a brow as he studied the two boys.

“I kept them quite busy this day,” she said as she slid onto the bench.

Servants came bustling in with trays of food, stopping his inquiry as to how she had kept them busy. Besides the interruption, his mind was elsewhere engaged with thoughts of eating quickly and whisking his wife above stairs and loving her for the next few hours.

Colyne and Raibeart were being polite. Almost too polite.

And they weren’t picking at each other, or kicking one another under the table.

Instead of bickering and fighting, they were partaking in polite conversation.

They were sitting at the table like the good lads he knew they weren’t.

After a quarter of an hour of listening to the silence, Richard was quite convinced his young brothers were up to no good. Or had been.

He dropped his eating knife on the table with a shake of his head. “All right ye heathens. What have ye done now?”

Colyne and Raibeart turned to him, sincerely confused.

“We have not done anythin’,” Raibeart told him.

“Bullocks,” Richard replied. “Ye two never sit at the