Page 60 of The Beast

Duncan placed his finger under her chin lifting her face. “In this instance, I am glad of the consequences.”

Her smile brightened his mood. “I admit to enjoying the result of my actions very much.”

As if his manhood had ears, it began to harden. Beatrice must have sensed his arousal because she rubbed her hands up and down his back. If only it were possible for her to touch his skin.

“We should return indoors. It may be best for ye to face them now and get it over with.”

“True,” Beatrice replied. “Tomorrow the wedding celebration begins. Did ye remember to bring yer tartan and crest?”

As they walked back toward the house, his wife listed everything he should have brought as he replied, “aye” and nodded. It was a normal moment in a marriage that Duncan treasured. When she frowned up at him, he smiled.

“Duncan, I am serious. Ye must see about getting yer haircut. Just a bit, not too much. I prefer it long.”

“I will see to it now. Greer cuts it for me.”

“Very well,” she eyed him critically. “Oh, and ye should see about yer beard as well.”

He nodded enjoying her fussing over him and his appearance. When she took his hand and inspected his fingernails, he wanted to laugh. “I doubt guests will be examining my hands.”

“Hmm,” Beatrice replied seeming satisfied as she didn’t instruct him to cut or clean them.

Before they entered the house, he took her arm and pulled her to a stop.

“What is it?” She looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I care for ye very much and am glad to be here.”

Beatrice’s face softened, her lips curved, and her beautiful clear blue eyes glistened with happy tears. “Thank ye, I needed to hear that.”

Night came and Beatrice paced the room she and Duncan were to share. It would be the first time they would spend the night together. Well, the first night that he would be aware of, since she’d been sneaking into his room and sleeping beside him on the nights, he had nightmares.

Although exhausted, she was nervous at his lack of appearance. She’d gone to the door several times to search for him but decided it was best to allow Duncan the time he needed.

Finally, Duncan entered; his gaze meeting hers before going to the bed. “I thought ye’d be asleep by now.”

A retort was on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she removed her robe, went to the bed, and slipped between the blankets. “I am very tired, but I wished to tell ye about the discussion with Mother and Evander.”

After removing his boots and breeches, Duncan went to the washstand and washed his face, hands, and between his legs. Once that was completed, he came to the bed wearing a soft tunic that he often wore when coming to her bedchamber. He never removed it unless there was no light in the room.

As Beatrice spoke, he listened intently, lying on his back looking up at the ceiling. He acknowledged what she said and agreed when she was indignant. When Beatrice looked at him, he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open.

She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Sleep well.”

A sound awakened her, and Beatrice reached for Duncan’s side of the bed. He had his back to her and was murmuring in his sleep. It pained her that he seemed to have such vivid, disturbing dreams every night.

Ever so slowly, she reached for him and ran her hand down his arm. When he quieted, she snuggled against his back and he let out a soft sigh. Through the thin fabric Beatrice could feel the raised scarring, the ridges and bumps resulting from his torture. They were a part of her husband and she embraced their existence.

Dawn came too soon. Beatrice woke to find herself still against Duncan, seeking warmth from the chilly room.

He slept soundly and she took advantage and snuggled closer letting out a content sigh. She knew immediately when he woke because his body tensed.

Beatrice pretended to sleep to see what he would do. At first, he attempted to slip away, but with her arm around his waist he couldn’t move. Then he lifted her arm, but she mumbled sleepily and snuggled even closer.

Finally, he gave up, surrendering to the fact it would be impossible to get out of her embrace unless he slipped out of the bed.

“Ye are funny,” Beatrice murmured with a soft chuckle. “I wondered if ye would figure out how to escape or give up.”

He grunted and rolled to his back, pulling her against his side. Emboldened by him not moving away, Beatrice reached between his legs and was pleasantly surprised to find him fully aroused.