Free Mysty McPartland by My Angel My Hell Page B

wife, Lady Dalla.” Was a ll he said and he wasn’t shocked when not a sound could be heard. Letting out an irritated breath, he spoke to his bride. “Come along and I’ll show ye to our bedchamber. I’m sure ye will want a bath and to rest.”
    Gently taking her arm, he led her inside, across the massive hall and upstairs to the chamber they would share. After opening the door, he gently nudged her inside. “I will grant ye the privacy to bath, but I warn ye, wench, dinna even think to leave this room.” With a warning glare in her direction, he left the bedroom and closed the door sharply behind him.
    * * * *
    She snorted loudly over the command, but grateful to be finally alonean d relieved to be away from the speechless crowd. Dalla narrowed her eyes and wondered if he intended to keep her a prisoner. The blasted man had left so quickly she didn’t have a chance to ask him. She sniffed in annoyance and let her gaze drift around the enormous chamber.
    Wariness crept up her spine realizing she would be sharing the room with her despicable husband. With a sigh of defeat acceptance she took in her surroundings; it surprised her to see that it was a very large and very attractive room. It was flooded with light from the four large windows, two of them held deep padded seats, the cushions covered in a soft burgundy and the curtains were wine red.
    Her eyes fell once more on the bed that sat in the middle of the room between the windows, two each side. It must be the largest bed she had ever seen, its four posts nearly reached the tall ceiling and the hangings and the bedcover were crimson, white and gold. The floor was covered in rugs in various shades of ruby, crimson and black.
    There was a large fireplace with two wing-back, deep red leather chairs. There were gold candleholders, tables and chests of mahogany, a mirror rimmed in gold. Never in her life would she have thought that the man she married would have such luxury or such an appealing bedchamber.
    She realized then she knew very little about the man she married and wondered if she would ever know him at all. It was a saddening thought and she knew it was all her own fault. She resigned herself to the fact that she would just have to live with what she had foolishly done and hoped that perhaps one day in the future they could have some sort of peaceful understanding between them.
    Sighing despondently, she jumped when there was a knock on the door, presuming it was a servant; she called out for them to enter. She lifted a brow when half a dozen came trooping in carrying buckets of water. She tried not to cringe when they kept gaping at her as if she was something frightful to look at.
    She huffed out a breath of irritation when they finally all marched out again. Damn rude servants, for goodness sakes she wasn’t that horrible to look at was she? She frowned and shook her head; surely her father or one of her own clan would have told her she was hideous. Though she had never considered herself a beauty she thought she was at least passable pretty.
    Perhaps they stared at her only because they didn’t know her and were worried about what sort of mistress she was. They might even dislike her because she married their laird. There could be a hundred reasons why they reacted the way they did and she was silly to worry about it until she knew the true reason for their unfriendly welcome and rude, silent stares.
    Deciding to put the matter aside for now, she yawned and, wandering over to the tub, started to strip off clothing before she climbed in and sank beneath the warm water. She let out a sigh of contentment, rested her head against the wooden rim and closed her eyes. It felt wonderful to soak her aching muscles after days of riding.
    Though she had no idea what would happen in the next few hours she was going to let herself enjoy these few minutes before she would have to face her husband’s wrath. This might be the last bit of pleasure she would experience