Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] by Border Wedding

there, the general din in the lower hall made it impossible to hear what they said.
    Having detected what she suspected was an answering gleam of humor in his eyes, she wished she could watch as he talked with her father. However, at one point, she heard his voice rise on a note of displeasure if not outright anger, so perhaps it was as well that she could not hear them clearly.
    She had little appetite, and for once her mother spoke not a word of criticism. Nor did Amalie make any effort to converse, other than making an occasional polite comment about the food. Meg had expected both of her sisters to plague her with questions, but other than to ask if Amalie would serve her another slice of lamb from the platter, even Rosalie remained silent.
    Abruptly and in a tone no one could fail to hear, Sir Iagan said, “Well, lad, ye needna put it off any longer, for I warrant your lady wife is as eager as ye. So ye’d best be getting on with the bedding.”
    Meg’s hand froze halfway to her mouth, the slice of apple between her fingers hovering unnoticed, her breathing likewise stopped, as she waited for Sir Walter’s reply. Inside, organs roiled, making her wish she had eaten nothing.
    “He will get on with it shortly, my lord,” Lady Murray said with a smile. “First, you men must both give our Meg time to prepare herself. I shall go to her bedchamber with her myself to see that all is in readiness there.” When she added as a clear afterthought, “Amalie, you may come, too,” Meg realized that her mother had still not said whether Amalie was to accompany her to Rankilburn.
    Exchanging a look with her sister, she arose to follow Lady Murray, pausing only long enough to give Rosalie a hug.
    “May I not come with you then?” Rosalie asked. “I want to see, too.”
    “Dearling, there is naught to see,” Meg said. “I am only going to get ready to leave. I will see you again afterward, so you can bid me farewell.”
    Although Rosalie looked eager to debate the matter, a wary glance at their mother resulted in nodding obedience instead.
    Lady Murray turned and strode from the dais, bringing minions in the hall hastily to their feet, to bow and curtsy as she passed.
    Hurrying after her without casting even a glance in the direction of her father or her new husband, Meg caught up with her mother at the stair hall. “Prithee, madam,” she said, “is Amalie to go with me then?”
    “She is, aye,” her mother said. “I thought your father must have told you he had decided she should go.”
    “No, he didn’t,” Meg replied, remembering something that he
had
said. “He won’t set anyone to watch us whilst we bed, will he?”
    “Nay,” her ladyship said. “He’ll be content with the evidence of the sheets.”
    “Evidence?” Meg said.

Chapter 5
    “To fondle, or kiss her, I’ll never be fain . . . But cats they are all alike gray in the dark.”
    H aving endured Murray’s annoying comments with grim dignity, Wat approached the connubial chamber with what he hoped was similar and proper decorum. His nemesis bore him company right to the chamber door, making him wonder if the man did intend to watch.
    Murray rapped three times, whereupon Lady Murray emerged.
    “Is she ready?”
    “She is,” her ladyship replied. “I have already sent Amalie to wait in my solar. We should perhaps join her there.”
    “Aye, sure, unless ye think I ought to say a few words to our Meg first.”
    “I believe I have said all that is necessary,” his lady replied. With a condescending nod to Wat, she added, “I am sure you know what to do, Sir Walter.”
    “I believe so, thank you,” Wat said, hoping he spoke the truth and glad that his men were not there to witness the exchange. If they had been, he’d never have heard the end of it.
    He wished his in-laws would go away, but both Murray and his lady lingered. At last, fearing they might decide they had better stay if he looked the least bit reluctant, Wat opened the