His Brother's Bride (Historical Regency Romance) by Rose Gordon

Author:Rose Gordon
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: TALC Publishing
Published: 2013-03-25T23:00:00+00:00

~Chapter Twenty-One~

That had to be the strangest wedding ceremony ever, Laura thought as she looked down to where her right hand was still tethered to Henry's. The only reason she'd allowed such a bizarre display to continue was because of the expression on Henry's face.

He was really quite handsome.

Actually, that wasn't fair.

He was always handsome, even when scowling, frowning or expressionless. But the way his face lit up when he grinned was irresistible. Not to mention, the wide-eyed look that came over his face when he was stunned or just couldn't believe the nonsense coming out of Mr. Campbell's mouth. It also didn't hurt that wearing that kilt offered Laura a very generous view of Henry's muscular legs!

“Now fer yer weddin' dinner,” Mrs. Campbell announced.

Henry reached down between them to untie the twine that held their wrists together only to still his fingers when Mrs. Campbell swatted his hand with the prayer book.

“It stays,” the older woman informed him.

“Then how is she to eat?” He lifted their hands to show the woman that Laura's right hand was unusable.

“Ye'll fin' a way, I reckon,” Mr. Campbell said easily. Then he crossed his arms. “But tha' chord donna come off while yer still at my house.”

“The chord,” Mrs. Campbell started, “is tradition. It shews the man an' woman are boun' together. An' it's his lef' han', so his righ' han' can be free to figh' and defen' his lass.”

Henry mumbled something about how it would be easier to defend her if he wasn't tied to her, making her grin.

“Oh, stop fussing; we both know you're enjoying it,” Laura said.

“Only because you seem to be,” he whispered.

A queer feeling stirred in her stomach. Hunger. Yes, that's what it was. Or that's what she planned to claim that it was, because anything else, such as desire, was unthinkable.

Henry and Laura sat down at the table in a pair of chairs that practically touched. But it had to be that way since they were still tied together.

Humming, Mrs. Campbell brought the food to the table while Mr. Campbell took a seat.

Meanwhile, Laura and Henry had a silent war about where their hands would reside. Laura preferred the table, but a mere second after their hands were on the table, Henry brought them to his lap.

“Sorry,” he murmured. “I forgot...”

How that was possible, she didn't know, but didn't question it and tried to move their hands back to the table.

Henry complied, but only momentarily, and then he lifted their bound hands to his left temple, where he proceeded to scratch his head.

“Sorry, again,” he murmured, dropping their hands to her lap. He spread his hand over her thigh and leaned in close. “This way I won't forget that my left hand is otherwise engaged and won't lift it.” He inched his hand inside her thigh and winked.

Laura's mouth went dry, and mindlessly, she reached for the wine glass in front of her. She took a deep swig. When he squeezed her thigh again, she took another. This had the potential to be a very interesting meal.

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