《Tigh Na Faol: House of Wolf (A Wulvers Prequel)》Chapter 4 ~ Naivety

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Beware of the wolves...

Chapter 4: Naivety

~

"Do you know where Lord Lyall and his son are going so close to the wedding? It is odd they are leaving only to come back so soon is it not?" I asked Margaret as she helped me sort through the final details for my day.

"It is odd, I agree. I'm not sure where they are going but it isn't a new occurrence, they often go away a few days every month when they are at court. Perhaps it's simply to sort some business." She suggested, giving a light shrug, "whatever it is, it's nothing for a woman to worry about, as long as they are both back in time for your wedding."

I nodded, pondering on that. Maybe I was looking for clues in nothing, I often overthought the small details that often turned out to be no more than what they were.

Claude scuttled in, gaining our attention with a small cough, her hands fidgeting in front of her. My eyebrow jumped up, she really was such a scared little thing.

"Lady Beaton is here for you, Lady Máili." she said, curtseying and moving to allow the woman to walk in.

Mary Beaton walked with an air of grace, her movements like flowing water. She was again dressed in the finest of gowns; a deep red that shimmered in the light. Fine jewels rested on her neck, rings of silver and gold on her fingers. I could never hope to wear such finery, but I was far from jealous. Unlike my friend who's eyes wandered over the other woman with green envy.

We stood, curtseying to our better.

"I see you have been hard at work, is there anything I can do to be of service?" Mary asked, her eyes wandering over us both in disdain.

There was a harshness to this woman, one that made me skittish.

"I am not sure what else needs done." I replied honestly, "I have everything prepared for the day."

Suddenly the cold edge disappeared with a bright smile and Mary took the spare seat.

"Have you got everything prepared for the evening? What about some jewels for the day? A necklace, perhaps some pearls for your hair? You want to look your best." She chirped.

I relaxed seeing her excitement. I had greatly misjudged Mary, and I felt bad. Everything at court seemed to change with the wave of a hand, I suppose you had to be wary about who you were your true self around. Too many people were out to bring others down. I was glad I wouldn't be here very long, I didn't want to be drawn into political games and lies.

"The only jewellery I have is in my box." I said, looking to Claude, "Could you fetch it for me? It should be on the dressing table."

Claude nodded and scampered off to the bedroom. Mary watched her in amusement, relaxing in her chair.

"Her majesty insisted we take Claude back with us. She is very adept with intricate hairstyles from France, but I find her a rather nervous creature." She stated, a smile twitching at her lips.

"She's quick with her work." I said on poor Claude's behalf.

"Oh I do not argue with that. Now, you will also want your best undergarments for the night. I assume you have something suitable? Silk stockings are very in fashion now." Mary continued, picking up the decanter to pour herself a glass of wine.

I blushed furiously, "I am afraid such luxuries are not ones I can afford. I have things that will do but I do not see why it would matter when nobody will see what I wear under my dress."

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Margaret stifled a laugh behind her hand, "Dear Máili, you really know nothing do you? Your husband and those that stay to help you into bed will see what you wear."

My blush deepened to a fiery red.

"I am sure that what I own will be appropriate." I choked out.

Claude reappeared and I was glad her presence had the two amused women going silent about the topic of such private matters. The servant placed the small wooden box on the table.

"Can I do anything else for you, my lady?" She asked, a slight hint of desperation in her tone.

Lady Beaton raised an eyebrow, "Is there some other important matter you must attend to?"

Claude looked slightly scared before she quickly shook her head but I decided to give some relief to the poor girl.

"You may have some time to yourself, Claude. Maybe go and feed yourself before going back to your work."

Claude gave me a grateful look before bobbing something that couldn't quite pass as a dismissive curtsey before almost running from the room.

Margaret reached for the box and opened it, studying its contents.

"There are some pretty pieces in here." She commented, picking up a small ring that had been my mother's.

I owned no hair pieces, nor any jewellery that was really my own. All I had was what had been passed down from my mother, and her things had always held an understated beauty.

Mary tutted as she too looked at what I had, shaking her head, "These will not do. I will have my hair pearls brought down and Claude can put them in your hair on the day. I may also have a necklace that will go nicely with your dress. Pearls are a must for your wedding day."

I was amazed by her kindness and gave her a genuine smile, "Thank you, but why pearls?"

Mary looked surprised by question and Margaret laughed before speaking to Mary, "She really does know nothing."

Mary smiled back, "I am more than happy to be the guiding hand for you. My jewellery can be your something borrowed and pearls because they represent your tears."

"My tears?" I questioned, confusion filling me.

"Yes, if you wear pearls they will take away your tears and ensure a happy marriage." She explained, lifting her chin as she educated me, "I have to say, I am surprised you didn't not know this, your mother was apparently well versed in superstition."

I tried to hide my amusement at her high handedness. Though Mary was showing herself to be a kind hearted and generous woman, she obviously thought rather highly of herself. The slight dig about my mother's beliefs did not phase me and I forced a smile onto my face. But I doubted wearing pearls would ensure my happiness when I was being given away to a man like Torian.

"As I am aware that you lost your mother and you have a lack of knowledge in the subject, I have to ask, do you have any questions about what happens in the marriage bed?" She asked, sitting and folding her hands on the small table.

She gave me a soft and comforting smile but my mind was suddenly whirring with what I knew and what I was yet unsure of.

"My mother spoke to me a little about it. I know what happens, but that doesn't mean I am not nervous and maybe scared. From what my mother told me, it sound like it will hurt."

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Margaret and Mary laughed, only adding to my embarrassment. I was aware I was naive and knew very little, but I hated to be laughed at. I gave them both an indignant look.

"It hurts a little at first," Margaret admitted, "but it can be quite pleasurable afterwards."

I blinked, shocked. Of course I'd had my suspicions, I'd heard my mother and father and even my father and Jane at night. I had obviously mistaken the sounds of pleasure for cries of pain.

"Pleasurable?" I choked out, showing the full extent of my naivety.

Mary gave me a sinister looking smile, "If a man knows what he is doing, where to touch, yes, the pleasure can be...explosive. There is no describing it. It might take some time for you to learn each other, but it doesn't have to be a chore, Lady Maíli."

I sat and contemplated what they had said. While my nerves had not lessened any, at least I had something to look forward to, if my future husband knew what he was doing, if he cared enough to learn. I didn't want to think about it, it made me feel so anxious that my stomach rolled. Being the centre of attention during the marriage ceremony with hundreds of eyes watching was bad enough but to have Torian's eyes solely on me in a room alone, that was an even worse thought.

"Do not be nervous, we will help as much as we can and God will be with you." Mary said confidently.

If only she knew how little comfort that offered me. To be married under the eyes of a God that was not mine felt like a betrayal but I could not say anything about it. These women were all Catholic, to be anything else was a death sentence.

~

I was glad to finally have some time to myself. Claude had left for the evening and my father had yet to return from what I guessed was an evening of drinking and gambling with money he didn't have.

Sitting on the window seat, the white light of an almost full moon filtered down with an ethereal glow. Everything outside was alight in silver, only the flickering of the candles in the room and the fire keeping things from being too dark.

My feet were tucked under my white nightgown, my hair left to fall in cascading black waves that reached my hips. The window was cold against my cheek, causing a small shiver. I couldn't take my eyes off the moon, its beauty entrancing me, stirring something deep in my soul that seemed to howl in answer to a call I couldn't understand. I'd felt this before, I'd even mentioned it to my mother but she'd told me not to speak of it, to bury it deep. The look of fear in her eyes kept me from ever bringing it up again.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, pushing the feeling that haunted me away. Tomorrow was my wedding day, I didn't need any more anxiety.

The small velvet pouch by my feet drew my attention, the urge to take out what rested there was strong. Ignoring the voice that warned me it was an act too dangerous to do at court had been the only thing holding me back but now that it was close to midnight and I knew that no eyes could see...

I sat up and turned, tugging the small mahogany table closer to me. The velvet was soft in my hands and I carefully tugged at the string that held it closed. The deck of tarot cards slipped out into my hand easily and I was quick to spread them upside down on the table.

There was no particular question that I held in my mind but my intention to know what this marriage would hold was clear. The back of the cards were decorated in Celtic knotwork and all had been hand-painted with the most delicate of strokes. They had belonged to my mother and I had taken them from her room before my father had thought to get rid of them or sell them. The edges were a little crinkled and frayed, the paint faded and smudged, but they were one of my dearest possessions.

Drawing three cards from the spread, I pulled them down, not daring to turn them over just yet. Holding my breath, I turned the first.

Death.

That could be easily explained. Death meant great changes and this marriage and moving far into the Highlands could easily be the reason that.

The Lovers.

I stilled, my hand hovering over the card. Torian appeared in my mind for a moment, hope blossoming in my chest. I shook my head and turned the final card.

The Fool.

A man hung upsidedown with a fine wrapped around one leg. It could mean I was going to see something in a new way, or that something would reveal itself that would change they way I viewed the world.

I stared at the three cards and a strong sense of foreboding came over me. The feeling that I'd always buried down lifted its head. My stomach twisted, my hands shook and I quickly pushed the cards back into the deck and into the velvet pouch.

Paranoia, that's all it was. My wedding day was tomorrow and I was overthinking, seeing and feeling things that weren't there.

I put the pouch back into the trunk, hiding it beneath a worn cloak before taking my seat back at the window. Wrapping a fur pelt around my shoulders, I rested my head against the glass, watching it fog up with each exhaled breath.

My fingers fiddled with the lace cuff of my nightgown. It was an odd thought that tomorrow night, Torian would see it, he would see more of me than any man ever had. The thought brought a sliver of fear that had my heart stuttering but also an odd ache that wasn't exactly unpleasant between my thighs. I wasn't so naive as to not understand what it was but the nerves and fear far outweighed any pleasure I thought I could gain from our union.

Torian was a huge male; muscled and tall, I couldn't see him being gentle. Nobody that fearsome and obviously strong could ever have a tender touch...at least that was what I believed.

Movement by the castle gates caught my attention, three shapes slinking through the shadows, sticking close to the wall. The fur of one shimmered like liquid silver under the moonlight, reflecting it's glow like a river's mirror. They were bigger than the wolf-hounds that often ran around the courtyard and held a grace unfound in most dogs too. I watched them a moment longer until a pair of glowing hazel eyes caught mine. My breath caught in my throat. The eyes held so much intelligence, a shine that let me know he knew I had been watching.

I shoved myself away from the window, landing on the floor with my legs tangled in the blanket. My handprint slowly faded from the glass but the cold still lingered on my skin.

The beast had looked right at me; the burn of his gaze was scorched into my soul. It had awoken that feeling again, the restless part of my soul. There was no pushing it away this time, I fought to put it back in the metaphorical box but it was now like a steady presence in my head.

A hysterical laugh left me, one that might have seemed more like a yelp to anyone else. I crawled over to the bed and climbed up, burying myself beneath the sheets. Sleep would make me feel better. My eyes were suddenly lead heavy as my head hit the pillow and I was pulled to sleep by the beautiful singing of a wolf.

I wished I could howl back.

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