Momentarily taken aback by her change in attitude, he swallowed hard, trying not to reveal his anger. He’d tried to be patient with her, but when his beloved wife purposely ignored him and did not even stir, he’d had enough. He promptly stood and grabbed his kilt and tunic from the floor. With one last look at the bed, he glowered at the wily female and stormed through the adjoining door. Her actions were as cold and empty as the bed she would sleep in this eve.

When Alex reached his chamber, he contemplated what the hell had happened. His mind turned to their embrace on the parapet. The lass had given in freely to the passion of his kiss. He would love to know what had changed between then and when he’d left her bed only a short moment ago.

He’d never forget the expression on her face. With her eyes clamped shut, Sybella’s look was one of pure torture. He was as gentle and careful as he could’ve been for her first time, but when his wife started to count sheep beneath him, that was the last straw. He would never forget the relief that crossed her face when he rolled onto his side. He wasn’t a total arse. He was going to stay and offer her comfort. But from the look of things, she wanted no part of it—or him.

Whatever his wife’s issues were, she had better get over them soon. He would be visiting her chamber often and would not think about leaving her alone until she became with child. He was disappointed in her. She had seemed so willing to start anew when he kissed her that afternoon, and for a brief time, he was foolish enough to believe they had an understanding.

He refused to dwell on his wife’s odd behavior any longer.

At least the MacKenzies would be leaving in a few short hours. Maybe then, he could finally get everything and everyone around him back to normal. That had not been the case for so long that he needed to remember exactly what normal entailed. Nevertheless, he had one less problem to worry about. His clan would be fed; his union with Sybella taking care of that.

And poor Aunt Iseabail.

Perhaps once all of the commotion had ended and everything settled down, she would have time to rest. The festivities seemed to be taking their toll. Although his aunt obviously favored the companionship of William MacKenzie, the last thing Alex wanted was another of Sybella’s pesky kin under his roof. By this time on the morrow, it would all be over.

* * *

With a long, exhausted sigh, Sybella pulled herself to her feet and then quickly dropped back onto the bed.

Her body ached.

No wonder. But at least the toughest part was over and she now knew what to expect—although it wasn’t nearly as insufferable as Mary had described.

Sybella rose from the bed, wanting to spend some time with Colin before he took his leave. When a feeling of loneliness washed over her, she willed it away. Everything would be all right. She would accept nothing less. Even though the last few days had unsettled her, she would smile and hold her head high when her clan left for home.

She pulled out her day dress and had turned to the bed when she noticed a spot of blood on the covers. Lifting her nightrail, she observed the same underneath.

Mary never mentioned blood.

Dear God.

Why was she bleeding? It was not her time.

There was a knock on the adjoining door. “Wife?”

The door cracked open and Sybella ran to close it, barely missing Alexander’s face. “Please donna come in here,” she said in a rush of words.

Her husband’s large hand gripped the door. “Why? What is amiss?”

She pushed again, but the door would not budge against the huge mass of her husband. “Please, Alexander. There is naught—”

He shoved the door open and walked through, stealing a glance around her chamber. “What is amiss?”

“’Tis naught,” she said with as much innocence as she could muster. She whipped the covers up on the bed and bunched up her nightrail, holding it to the side. When his eyes narrowed, she was keenly aware of his scrutiny. She continued to stare at him, feigning indifference.

He let out a long, audible breath. “Did we nae discuss that I will nae tolerate lies between us? It has only been one day, and already ye forget my words.” He leisurely walked over to the sitting area and pulled out a chair. “I will simply sit here until ye speak the truth.”

When she lifted her brow, he returned the same gesture and waited.

Sybella paled at the enormity of the command. She had not forgotten the words they spoke on the parapet, but she was intensely humiliated. She sat down on the bed, her fingers squeezing the bridge of her nose. “Alexander—”

“I am listening.” His tone was the same as if he were talking with a child. Pausing, he seemed to choose his words carefully. “I thought we had an understanding last eve. I expect the truth. Mayhap I wasnae clear in my purpose. When I ask something of ye, I presume ye would be honest. I told ye as much before. I donna tolerate lies.”

Why would he make her speak of this? He folded his muscled arms over his chest and was not going to relent. Why did this come as no surprise? She had no choice but to yield to his command. She was forced to speak the truth, no matter how humiliating, but she certainly didn’t have to look at him while she spoke.

“I bleed and ’tisnae my time,” she said softly.

“What?”

Sybella repeated her words louder and closed her eyes. Footsteps stopped in front of her and a hand rested upon her shoulder. When she did not glance up, Alexander sat down on the bed beside her.

“Lass, ’tis normal for your first time. The reason I called upon ye this morn was to tell ye I ordered a bath for ye. It should help to ease the soreness ye feel. There is naught to be ashamed of, and ye donna need to hide such things from me. I am your husband. We are as one.”

She was helpless to halt her embarrassment. “I…didnae know it was normal. When I saw the blood…”

He smiled warmly. “Didnae your mother speak with ye about such things?”

Sybella shook her head. “My mother became ill before she had the chance. There was only Mary.”

A strange look passed over his features. “Mary?” When an unwelcome blush crept onto Sybella’s cheeks, he grabbed her hand. “I am your husband. Tell me. What exactly did Mary say to ye about such matters?”

“Obviously, she didnae tell me about any bleeding.”

He patiently listened while Sybella repeated most of what Mary instructed her.

“And the sheep?”

“As I already said, I am to remain perfectly still and close my eyes. When that cluigean goes in, I am to count sheep to ease the pain.”

Alexander glanced sideways, and she swore he laughed and then covered it quickly with a cough. What was the matter with the man? He’d asked what Mary said, and Sybella had spoken honestly. After all, that’s what he demanded.

“Nay worries. Is there anything else I can do for ye?” he asked, rubbing her shoulder.

She shook her head. The conversation had already gone too long. If this was any indication of how her day was going to go, she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to crawl back into bed and cower under the blankets.

He rose from the bed and kissed her on the top of the head. “Your bath will be here soon.”

Sybella watched Alexander walk through the adjoining door. Closing her eyes, she sat bent over with her face in her hands. Among other emotions was a deep sense of shame. How could she not know what was happening with her own body? And worse yet, she’d needed a man to explain it to her. Her pride had been seriously bruised.

There was a knock at her bedchamber door, and the men carried in a tub as well as steaming buckets of water. What a welcome sight. As soon as the door closed behind them, Sybella quickly disrobed and sank into the hot bath. She moaned aloud and did not care who heard her. The hot water felt so comforting against her skin. She swore she had only shut her eyes for a moment when there was another rap at the door.

“Sybella, ’tis Mary.”

Sybella groaned but not because of the soothing water. “Come in.”

Mary walked into Sybella’s chamber and closed the door. She pulled out her skirts and sat on the edge of the bed, but not before she spotted the stained nightrail thrown carelessly on the floor.

“I see ye are still in one piece. Are ye all right?” asked Mary.

“I donna know. I did what ye said and barely moved to ease the pain. I think the counting helped as well. It wasnae as bad as I thought it would be. Howbeit ye didnae tell me there would be blood.”

“Aye, well, I didnae want ye to worry. Some women bleed more than others. Ye will be sore for a few days, but it will nae be as painful the next time.” Mary smoothed her tresses. “The men are packing our belongings. After we break our fast, we will take our leave.” She smiled down at Sybella. “I will miss ye, and I wish ye naught but happiness with your new husband.”

“I will miss ye as well, Mary.” Sybella pulled herself to her feet and Mary handed her a drying cloth.

“Ye can always come to visit. And besides, Anabel would welcome the sight.”

“She has grown so fast. I can only imagine the young lass she will become by the time I see her again.”

As long as the Highland weather permitted, Sybella often found escape in the confines of the village. Ever since Anabel was a bairn, she had been taken with Sybella—well, who was she fooling? Sybella had been taken with Anabel. The little girl’s temperament was irresistible. In some aspects they were similar, always wanting to be included, to belong.