Highland Barbarian. Hannah Howell

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      “Weel, at least ye look presentable.”

      Cecily smiled faintly at Anabel, deciding to accept those sharp words as a compliment. She forced herself to stop staring at the intricate gold and garnet necklace Anabel wore, one that had been a gift her father had given her mother upon their marriage. It was painful to be reminded of times past, of the love her mother and father had shared, especially when she would soon be married to a man she was not sure she could ever love.

      She looked around the great hall, taking careful note of all the people attending the feast. It was the start of two weeks of festivities, which would end with her marriage to Sir Fergus Ogilvey. Cecily knew very few of the people since she had rarely been allowed to join in any feasts or even go with her kinsmen on any visits. She suspected these people came to this wedding celebration to eat, drink, and hunt all at someone else’s expense.

      When she finally espied her betrothed, she sighed. He stood with two other men, all three looking very self-important as they talked. Cecily realized she was not even faintly curious about their conversation and suspected that was a very bad omen concerning her future. Surely a wife should be interested in all her husband was interested in, she thought.

      As Anabel began to tell her all about each and every guest—who they were, where they were from, and why it was important to cater to their every whim—Cecily tried to find something about her betrothed that she could like or simply appreciate. He was not ugly, but neither was he handsome. He definitely had a very weak chin and a somewhat long, thin nose. His brown hair was rather dull in color, and it already showed signs of retreating from his head. She recalled that he had eyes of a greenish hazel shade, a nice color. Unfortunately, his eyes were rather small, his lashes thin and very short. He had good posture and he dressed well, she decided, and felt relieved that she could find something to compliment him on if the need arose.

      “Are ye e’en listening?” hissed Anabel. “This is important. Ye will soon be mixing freely with these people.”

      Cecily looked at Anabel and tensed. Something had angered the woman again, and Cecily felt her heart sink into her stomach. She hastily tried to recall something, anything, the woman had just said, only to watch Anabel visibly control her temper. Cecily was surprised to discover that she found that even more alarming. Anabel very clearly wanted this marriage—desperately. Even if she was not determined to do this to please Edmund and Anabel, to try to finally gain some place in this family, Cecily realized there really was no choice for her. If she did not marry Sir Fergus Ogilvey willingly, she would undoubtedly be forced to do it.

      “I was looking at Sir Fergus,” Cecily said.

      “Ah, aye, a fine figure of a mon. He will do ye proud.”

      Cecily very much doubted it but just nodded.

      “And I expect ye to be a good wife to the mon. I ken I have told ye this before, but it bears repeating, especially since ye have always shown a tendency to forget things and e’en behave most poorly. A good wife heeds her husband’s commands. ’Tis her duty to please her husband in all things, to be submissive, genteel, and gracious.”

      Marriage was going to be a pure torment, Cecily mused.

      “Ye must run his household efficiently, keeping all in the best of order. Meals on time and weel prepared, linens clean and fresh, and servants weel trained and obedient.”

      That could prove difficult, for Anabel had never trained her to run a household, but Cecily bit the inside of her cheek to stop those words from escaping her mouth. Through punishments and long observation, she actually had a very good idea of what was needed to run a household. In truth, the many punishments she had endured had given her some housekeeping skills she doubted any other fine lady could lay claim to. Cecily inwardly frowned as she glanced at Sir Fergus. Instinct told her that the man was not one who would appreciate such skills, would actually be appalled to discover that his new wife knew how to scrub linens and muck out stalls.

      “A good wife tolerates her husband’s weaknesses,” continued Anabel.

      Cecily suspected Sir Fergus had a lot of weaknesses, then scolded herself for such unkind thoughts. She would be married to the man soon. It was time to find something good about her betrothed. There had to be something. She had probably just been too busy feeling sorry for herself and convincing herself to meekly accept her fate to notice.

      “A good wife ignores her husband’s wanderings, his other women—”

      “Other women? What other women?” Cecily was startled into asking. This was a new twist in this oft-repeated lecture that she did not like the sound of at all.

      Anabel sighed and rolled her eyes, big blue eyes that she was extremely vain about. “Men are lusty beasts, child. ’Tis their way to rut with any woman who catches their eye. A wife must learn to ignore such things.”

      “I dinnae see why she should. Her husband took a vow before God just as she did. ’Tis his duty to honor vows spoken.”

      After looking around to make sure they were alone, Anabel grabbed Cecily by the arm and tugged her backward, a little СКАЧАТЬ