disturbing them, and he was grateful for it.
Tralin cleared his throat to get his attention, and asked delicately, "And how did it go?"
"It went… well," Cullen muttered, knowing he lied through his teeth. It had been incredible. He was no virgin, but bedding his wife had been one of the most exciting experiences of his life. Cullen had never before felt a passion like she'd drawn from him, or the desire to please a woman as much as he'd wanted to please Evelinde. His passion was so all-consuming it had been a struggle to remain gentle and a constant battle to avoid touching any of her sore spots. Reining in the passion she'd stirred so had been a sort of torture… a sweet torture. And one he'd wanted to repeat immediately on awaking, too. But, afraid he wouldn't be able to go gently next time, Cullen had forced himself to resist, reminding himself that she needed to heal.
"It went well for you," Tralin said. "But what of her? Perhaps—"
"It went well for her, too," Cullen interrupted dryly. "It went verra well for both of us. Howbeit, she seems to have mistaken my consideration in not wanting to trouble her again until she is fully healed as an indication that she did not please me."
"Hmm," Tralin murmured.
"And she wants me to explain things to her," Cullen complained. "I told her to watch me actions and no bother so much about the words, but she insists she wants me words and actions."
"Demanding wench."
Cullen nodded, only realizing that his friend had been teasing him when Tralin started to laugh.
"Cullen," he said with exasperation. "I ken yer no used to explaining yerself. Yer laird over the people of Donnachaidh and as such need not explain anything to anyone, but she is not just another one of yer people. She's yer wife, and the two of ye are just getting to ken each other. Ye'll need to explain some things at first."
When Cullen just glowered at him, he added, "Look at it from her perspective. Ye showed up, married her, and dragged her off right away, and she thought with naught but the gown she wore. Ye then bedded her once, and no doubt left her to her own devices after that, without a word of praise to let her know that ye were pleased with her, or—knowing you—any sort of direction as to her place at Donnachaidh. She is no doubt feeling lost and uncertain in her new home and position."
"But I have done all I possibly can to ease the way for her," Cullen protested.
"Except tell her ye're pleased with her for bride," he pointed out. "And praise is no doubt what she needs after being insulted by her stepmother all these years."
"But—"
"Look at it as just another one of yer duties," Tralin interrupted. "Ye take yer duties seriously, I ken. So, think of this as one. Yer duty is to ensure yer wife kens she is appreciated and necessary at Donnachaidh."
"A duty," he muttered.
"Aye." Tralin nodded. "I promise ye if ye do, she—and hence, ye—will be much happier."
Cullen considered the suggestion seriously, then nodded and stood.
"Where are ye going?" Tralin asked with surprise.
"Home to attend me duties," he muttered, heading for the door.
Chapter Nine
"We lost and 'tis all your fault."
Lady did not react to either her vexed mistress's comment or her irritated scowl, The horse merely waited patiently for her to decide which way to go. Evelinde made a face at the animal's lack of concern and glanced around the woods.
It really was the mare's fault they were now deep in the woods in the valley at the base of the hill Donnachaidh sat on. Evelinde had never intended to enter the woods, but Lady had had other ideas. She supposed it was her own fault for giving the mare her head. Though, to be fair, doing so had never been a problem at d'Aumesbery. Donnachaidh was another matter entirely. And not knowing where she was going had not stopped Lady from charging down the hill and into the woods.
Evelinde had tried to stop the mare at the bottom of the hill, but Lady would not be stopped and had run into the woods like a wild thing. By the time she'd managed even to slow the beast, they were well into the forest.
She hadn't thought it a problem at first. Evelinde had assumed that if she just turned the mare back the way they'd come, they'd canter happily out of