“You will sleep in that tonight,” he snapped, desperately needing a barrier between them. “I spoke with Lawler. He will bring what you need to prevent my seed from taking root in you when he returns in a week’s time, since I do not trust you in taking the correct mixture.”
The nightdress was not as appealing now that she saw it as a barrier that separated them. And she could not blame him for not trusting her when it came to taking what was needed to prevent her from conceiving. That Lawler would bring the mixture meant that her husband would not touch her until then. She could easily fake taking the brew, but she had given her word she would not lie to him. What then did she do?
“As you say, Rannick,” she said and scooped up the bundle off the table and placed them on top of a chest not far from the foot of the bed.
“Remember that the next time I order you to do something. I will brook no disobedience from my wife.”
She did not know what dared her to respond as she did, but the words came easily. “I am not your wife until our vows are sealed.”
He was at her side in an instant, gripping her arm and releasing it as fast as he had gripped it when she winced in pain. He took hold of her wrist and pushed up the sleeve of his shirt, she had rolled back several times so it would not be in the way of her hand.
His anger flared, at himself, when he saw that his earlier grip had left a bruise, an imprint of his fingers on her upper arm.
“You are stronger than you know,” she said, as if making an excuse for him.
“Don’t disobey me and you won’t suffer my strength,” he argued when all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and tell her how sorry he was for hurting her, a senseless response. This might be the first time he hurt her, but he doubted it would be the last hurt he caused her, and it pained him to think that.
He gave her no chance to respond, leaving the cottage in a huff.
She kept herself busy, putting her garments away in a small, empty chest and hanging her new cloak on the lone peg. She did not slip into a new garment, not wanting to soil it while she prepared their meal. She kept her hands busy chopping, hoping her mind would concentrate on the task at hand and not wander. Unfortunately, she was not successful at it. It was as if she poked herself in the side, whispering, “Do what you must. Do what you must.”
Though her meeting with Rannick’s father had been brief, it had been enough time for her to see that he was a man who stayed true to his word. Her sisters would surely be forced to wed if she did not keep her end of the bargain and with Rannick so adamant of not producing an heir… she shook her head exhausted from the endless thoughts that circled there.
If she could get him to couple with her just once, at least there would be a chance of her getting with child. And a slim chance was better than no chance at all. But how did she accomplish that when he refused to let her touch him, nor would he touch her and now he ordered her to sleep in the nightdress?
She struggled to think of something, but nothing came to her. She would let it rest and revisit it with a fresh mind tomorrow. She would think of something… she had to.
Later that evening after supper was done, little talk exchanged between them, he announced, “I will step outside while you slip into the nightdress.”
Bliss said nothing, knowing he didn’t expect a response and there was nothing for her to say. He would have his way. She hurried and slipped into the nightdress and got into bed. He returned a short time later and to her surprise shed his garments. She had expected him to leave at least his shirt on, but he didn’t. He joined her in bed naked, though he didn’t curl around her as usual.
She remained on her side, hugging close to the wall, and for the first time, feeling strange there. She was not close to sleep, and she feared she had a long sleepless night ahead of her. She shifted her bottom an itch scratching at her. The garment was uncomfortable, or had she grown accustomed to sleeping naked?
She shifted her bottom again, the itch more irritating.
“Lie still,” he snapped, the sway of her bottom doing more than frustrating him.
She tried to do as he said, but the garment became increasingly more uncomfortable. It itched and poked, and she tried her best to ignore it, but it was impossible. She tried to move the least bit possible while attempting to ease the discomfort.