JOYOUS ARRIVAL
The days following the wedding passed in a happy haze. Chrissie was alight with a quiet joy and Blaine was always smiling. They fell into an easy routine: making love, dressing, breakfasting. He went to the courtyard to train, while she played the spinet.
Then they would dine, and make love, and she would write or read or practice the viol de Gambois, while he rode. They would sup, and make love, and sleep and repeat it all again the next day.
An evening about a week after their marriage, Chrissie looked at him over her sheet of music.
“Treasure?”
“Yes?” Blaine smiled. He loved the way she spoke, so gentle, her voice teasing him and seeming to arouse him with a word.
“We will set out soon? I would like to go to Dunkeld. If that's your intention, though, dear?”
Blaine smiled gently. “It is.”
Their visitors from Dunkeld had left the day after the wedding, which seemed off, if he thought about it, though Blaine had been so lost in his own pleasure that he hadn't paid it heed then. He should have.
“I would like to set out soon,” she agreed.
“Whenever you are ready.”
“Then,” Chrissie asked softly, “we leave the day after tomorrow? Alina concerns me.”
Blaine nodded. He, too, had noticed her pallid skin, the way she seemed so tired, so devoid of life. He had worried too, and had meant to ask after her. He had forgotten, and he felt bad for it.
“We can go as soon as you would wish,” he promised.
They set out the next day. They rode. They would take three days across country, staying in the inns. Blaine was concerned for Chrissie, but she insisted she could do it. The journey was surprisingly brief, and the inns fortunately comfortable, with beds large enough for two, even two such insatiable lovers as themselves.
When they reached Dunkeld, the month had truly turned wintry. They arrived, shivering and stamping. Chrissie was gray with cold.
“My love?” Blaine asked, instantly concerned.
“I am well,” she whispered, though Blaine felt worry gnaw him.
“We need some dinner,” he said quickly. “And bed.”
“Yes,” Chrissie whispered, her voice such that his loins ached. He smiled gently.
“Only if you're ready for that, my dear.”
Chrissie shot him a frosty look. “Am I not ready?”
He laughed. “I am sure you are.”
“Yes.”
The whisper fired his blood so that it was difficult to greet their hosts with any decency, but he managed it. It was wonderful to see Broderick and his tall, fair-haired brother once again.
“Blaine McNeil,” the younger teased lightly. “I never thought to see you here! Welcome.”
Blaine snorted. “I was here a month ago, if you recall.”
Duncan grinned. “In a more official capacity. Though I hope to change that.”
“Oh?”
Broderick smiled. “You know that Dougal is old.”
“Yes...”
“Well, then!” Duncan shouted cheerily. “Consider yourself master-at-arms!”
They had such a celebration after that! Chrissie recovered somewhat and exclaimed her delight. She embraced Blaine so warmly that he had to bite his lip not to take her right there in front of company. He strained to control himself and she giggled.
They sat at the table and Amabel made them all laugh with colorful tales of her off-spring, Joanna and Brodgar. Joanna was lively, almost three years old and into everything. Brodgar was just starting to take interest in his surroundings and was apparently saying “Woogh!”
They all laughed.
“We shall want a demonstration of his powers of talking!” Chrissie laughed. “I would love to hear that! It must be so dear.”
Amabel smiled. “Mayhap you could fetch him down after dinner?” She asked Alina. Alina nodded. Her brow was wet with perspiration, Blaine noticed. He saw Chrissie's eyes go to her face and saw her own face tense with worry. He reached across for Chrissie's hand, but she was already turning to Amabel, raising a glass.
“No, dear,” she smiled. “It is well you let the poor bairn sleep! I shall see him tomorrow when he's fresh and wakeful. Then the 'wooghs' are more likely to be forthcoming.”
They all laughed. Alina smiled, but the smile was strained and it was clear she was in pain. Chrissie had noticed too, for she bit her lip. Blaine looked at Broderick and Duncan, but Duncan was looking at his wife, his hand on her shoulder.
He whispered something to her, and Alina shook her head vigorously. Blaine saw it and made a note to talk to Duncan tomorrow. Whatever was wrong, Alina was a strong and powerful woman, and treating her as if she was a babe was not going to help. He just had to find a way of putting that tactfully to his friend. He glanced at Chrissie. She would know what would help.
The evening passed in merriment, with many exclamations of good health, and wishes for a bright future. Amabel embraced Chrissie fondly, kissing her brow. Broderick ruffled her hair.
“It is good to have you here among us, Chrissie!” Amabel said warmly, squeezing her hand. “What a merry time we shall have! It will be like when we were girls again. Only better, of course!”
They laughed. Blaine felt such pride at being married to Chrissie, of whom they all were so fond. He felt such pride for her, and such depth of emotion he actually thought his heart might burst.
The rest of the dinner passed in a blur of ale, warmth, and merriment. After the pudding went round, spicy and delicious, Blaine and Chrissie retired to bed in a happy haze. He was sleepy but, he noticed, not too sleepy to become aroused the instant she slipped into bed and his arms held her.
“Blaine?”
“Mm?” he whispered, his mouth already kissing her head.
“I'm very sleepy.”
“Oh.”
She lay still for a moment, and then giggled.
“I'm not too sleepy, though.”
“Oh...”
He sighed, relieved, and she laughed and then showed him just how awake she was, guiding him into her with skilled hands that made him gasp and cry out even as she smiled and kissed his nose.
Later, when they were drifting in a haze of sated wonder, she whispered to him. “We need to talk to Alina.”
“Yes,” he nodded, sleepy, stroking her hair. “I'm worried, too.”
She fell asleep in his arms and he fell asleep soon after, their bodies pressed together for the warmth and comfort their closeness brought them.
Tomorrow was another day. Blaine would also start work. Master-at-arms of Dunkeld: it had a nice sound to it. Chrissie was happy here. Which was all he could ever want.