Part of him wanted to yell and remind her of all the times he’d warned her of such action. But he knew how love worked. It didn’t always do what one wished. If it did, he would have forced himself to stop feeling for Maggie so it wouldn’t hurt so much.
“What are you saying?” he asked, hoping he’d misunderstood.
“I’m not saying anything. Good night.” She turned away from him.
Rather than force her to tell him something he didn’t think he’d bear hearing, he blew out the light and tossed and turned the whole night.
He shouldn’t feel guilty. He’d told her it wasn’t possible for him to be a real husband to her. Not in that way. But he should have known she might form an attachment if he slept with her.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered before giving up on sleep and going to pace the battlements.
He wasn’t the only one having difficulty sleeping. Cam was also there trying to calm a screaming Aiden.
“What seems to be the problem?” Bryce asked as he tapped the baby’s chin, who paused in his crying for a moment before letting out a loud wail.
“His belly hurts him and he wants all the world to know about it.”
“Poor lad.”
“Did he wake you?”
“Nay. I have my own pains to fuss about.” Bryce leaned over the wall to look down into the bailey. A few months ago he’d wished himself able to take the next step. Odd that now he had no desire to leave this life. The pain was still there, but it was not as sharp as it once had been. His life was not as grim. Not with Dorie in it to bring him pleasure and laughter.
“I can offer you a pat on the back. However it doesn’t appear to be working for this little one, so you might find any comfort lacking on my part,” Cam said.
Bryce nodded and let out a breath.
“If you’re not interested in a pat, I could listen to your fussing. I’ve already heard everything this lad has to share.”
Bryce didn’t want to talk. He’d come up to the battlements for a bit of quiet and to be alone, so it was a surprise when he opened his mouth and told Cam what was on his mind.
“I fear Dorie has come to expect more from this marriage than I can give.”
“You mean love?”
“Aye. I warned her from the first day not to get attached, for it could only lead to disappointment.”
“Ah. So it’s the lass’s fault she feels something for you. Despite you treating her like a real wife in every way. Laughing with her. Running off to your chamber at any time of day. Worrying over her all the times she was injured by the McCurdys. Buying her gifts as a husband ought to do. It’s her fault she thought she stood a chance to win your heart when it appeared to all of us that she already had.”
“I suppose you want me to argue that it isn’t her fault?”
“Yes, I do. If you wanted to make it clear you’d not be a husband to her, you should have kept your distance.”
“I tried. But the bloody McCurdys burned down her cottage!” he defended.
“When you moved her to your room, there wasn’t any other place you might have slept?” His brows went up and Bryce was thankful for the darkness so not to see the full expression of challenge.
Bryce preferred to stay wrapped up in his denial. It was easier to claim he wasn’t at fault that way. “What do I do?”
“Let yourself love her back, and be happy.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Cam pushed. Aiden quieted as if he wanted to hear the answer as well.
“I can’t remember the sound of Maggie’s voice or her smell. Sometimes I can’t even recall her face. It’s even worse for Isabel. I had so little time with her. The memory was almost too short to grasp. Dorie is taking up the space where those memories had been, and I hate her for it as much as I’m relieved not to have to feel the pain so intensely. It’s not right.”
“It’s the way of things. I remember when I first moved to the castle after my mother died, and how I didn’t want to let Lach’s parents care for me because it felt like I was betraying my own parents if I cared for them. But I realized it wasn’t true. Sometimes we imagine things because of the pain we’re dealing with at the time. You’ve been in yours for so long it might take you longer to realize it’s not a betrayal to Maggie and Isabel for you to be happy with Dorie.”
Bryce was quick to shake his head. He even squeezed his eyes shut as if to block out Cam’s words.
“You’re allowed to be happy, Bryce. You’re even allowed to love again. It doesn’t mean you loved Maggie and Isabel any less while they were alive.”
Fortunately, Aiden picked that time to let loose with another scream of displeasure, so they were able to focus their attentions on the baby instead of the impossibility of Bryce ever opening himself up to that kind of pain again.
He needed to keep his walls of protection firmly in place.
Chapter Twenty-One
Dorie woke alone and hurried to meet her father in the hall. Part of her worried that the day before had been a dream and he wasn’t really there. She let out a breath of relief when she entered the hall and saw him sitting with the laird at the front table.
He was already smiling at something Lach had said, but when he noticed her, his smile grew and he stood to greet her.
“I hope you slept well,” she said as he brushed a kiss on her cheek.
“Very well, thank you.”
“Bryce is already with his men?” she asked Lachlan as she took her seat next to Kenna.
“Aye. He was in a rush to get to it this morning. He wants to get things settled before he leaves for the Campbells.”
“Is he leaving today?” she asked.
“No. He has put it off since we have a visitor.”
Another delay because of her. At this rate they would never gather the men needed to win the battle with the McCurdys. She’d not been able to help her new clan with an alliance, and now she was stalling their plans to move forward and take over Baehaven.
She felt she should apologize, but remained silent.
After the morning meal, she and her father went to visit Mari and Cam at their manor house. The couple was happy to give her father a tour.
“We stay here some nights. But lately we’ve been staying the night at the castle so the nurse can help with Aiden.”
“Ah, yes. I remember having a babe in the house,” her father said with a nod. “My youngest two are five now. Do you mind?”
Mari held Aiden out to Dorien and he took the baby as if he’d held hundreds of infants in his life.
“I can’t wait to have a grandchild,” he hinted with a smile toward Dorie.
Her face went hot and she looked away. She’d found herself hoping each month, only to be disappointed when her courses came. She didn’t think Bryce minded since he’d said he didn’t want children. But still, she felt that she had failed in some way.
Her father and Cam talked of other things, and Dorie was happy to change the subject. But on the way back to the castle it became clear the topic had only been delayed.
“Do you want children?” he asked.
“Yes. I find I want them more each day. But so far it hasn’t happened.”
“Has Bryce put any pressure on you about it?”
She let out a laugh that held no humor. “Definitely not. I don’t think he wants children. It would be yet another person he doesn’t want to have to care for.” Her father looked upset on her account, so she felt the need to explain. “He lost a child. I wish I could help to heal his pain.”
“It’s not your job to heal him. Your love should heal him.”
“Did Harriet’s love heal you?”
“Eventually.”
Dorie didn’t think she wanted to know how long it took, so she refrained from asking.
“Are you unhappy?” he asked as they turned to stroll through the village.
“No.” She shook her head quickly.
“Are you happy?”
“Isn’t that the same question?” She laughed.
“It isn’t at all the same question.”
She thought it over and realized the difference.
She wasn’t unhappy. Especially when she compared her life at Baehaven to her life now. She’d been terribly unhappy before, so it was easy to know the answer to that question. The other question—whether or not she was happy—was more difficult to answer.
“I’m not sure,” she said honestly. “I want to be.” She frowned, hating how ungrateful she sounded. “When I was locked in my room at Baehaven, I spent a lot of time hoping for something different. Sometimes I would wish for someone to come save me. Sometimes I wished someone would care about me. Occasionally I dreamed of sprouting wings so I might fly out the window. I fear I may spend the rest of my life hoping for something I’ll never have.”
Dorien stopped walking and turned to her. “Come to England with me. I can have an annulment drawn up. You’ll be free of this marriage to a man who can’t love you as you deserve. You’ll be able to find someone suitable who can see how wonderful you are and treasure you.”
She blinked in surprise. She’d never thought of such a thing. She stood there staring at him while she thought. Her legs wobbled with the shock over her father’s suggestion. Why was she even considering such a thing? She loved Bryce. He can’t love me back. She was content. But is that enough?
Bryce hadn’t wanted to marry her. He’d only done so to secure an alliance for his clan. An alliance that was now invalid.
There were dozens of reasons to agree to her father’s suggestion, and only one selfish reason not to. She loved Bryce and would miss him.
But that wasn’t enough to sentence him to a lifetime of unhappiness.
…
Having accepted the viscount’s invitation to join him for a hunt, Bryce slipped from his bed before dawn to meet the man in the stables. He knew better than to think this was about gathering food or sport.
This was their first time alone since his arrival, and Bryce knew he was being measured as a match for Dorie. He could save the man some time and tell him he did not measure up, but pride kept him from admitting such. Bryce held no titles. He held power in the clan as war chief, but that did nothing but ensure he had a greater chance of leaving his wife a widow than any real status.
Being a viscount, and an army captain, meant Dorien Sutherland spent his days around powerful, honorable men. He was bound to be disappointed by his time with Bryce.
Rascal followed along despite Bryce’s order for him to stay with his mistress. Apparently the beast thought Bryce was more in need of his support than Dorie. Animals were able to sense things men could not, so he took the dog’s companionship as an omen.
“Faithful dog,” Dorien said, nodding to the mutt. “It is a dog, correct?”
They both laughed at the joke, the tension lessening slightly.
“Aye. I think he’s mostly dog. Mayhap his father was a horse.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.”
“When Dorie found him, he was only knee-high and I thought he was fully grown. I may not have suggested she keep him if I’d known what a monstrosity he would turn into. Especially when a storm moves in and he seeks comfort on our bed.”
“You permit him in your room?”
“Permit is not quite the word. It makes my wife happy, and ’tis an easy thing to allow if it puts a smile on her face.”
The man seemed confused by this, if his creased brow was any indication. “I was under the impression you were forced into the match with my daughter.”
“Aye. And I fought it for some time. But once I was done pouting like a lad, I realized it wasn’t her fault, and I’ve tried to make it up to her.” A few silly trinkets were little recompense for the way he’d treated her when they’d first wed.
“But you do not love her.” The man was looking right at him. Even so, Bryce wouldn’t lie. He’d expected the man would ask. It was something a father would want to know about the man married to his daughter.
“I’ve heard a bit of your story from Dorie,” Bryce started. “She told me ye truly loved her mother. It’s clear by the fact you came here instead of sending a letter, and by the smile on your face when you saw your daughter, that you must have loved her mother more than anything. You’ve traveled all this way for the piece of her that remains in Dorie.”
Bryce watched the man. Dorien glanced away but nodded. “True enough.”
“I understand such things because I was married before to the love of my life. I’d known her since we were babes. When I was sent here as a young lad, I thought only of her. And when she was old enough, I asked the Campbell to marry her. We were happy and blessed with a child. My life was complete. When she and my daughter died from fever, I lost my ability to love anyone else.”
Another nod of understanding from the man beside him. “I see.”
“While I canna love Dorie the way I wish I could, I take care of her, protect her, and make her happy in the ways I’m able.” He nodded to the dog. “Even waking up to this monster’s smelly breath on occasion.”
The dog had paused to lick himself in a scandalous fashion. The viscount laughed and gave a look of distaste. “Perhaps you’re more capable of love than you think.”
Bryce knew the man was joking, but he felt a tug of longing in his chest. The truth was, he wished he could heal enough to love again. Dorie was a good woman. Beautiful, kind, and funny. And her passion left him unable to make it through the day without searching her out and carrying her off for a bit of wickedness.
But there was distance between them. A place within him she was not allowed. Whether for her protection or his, it didn’t matter. He could not allow her to breach his walls.
Just then Rascal tensed and growled. He had hunted enough with the deerhound to know this wasn’t an alert of game but danger.
“This way, my lord. Quickly.” Bryce led them into a grove of trees and dismounted as four McCurdy warriors entered the far end of the meadow. Rascal growled again when they headed toward them.
“Quiet,” Bryce commanded. The dog obeyed, coming to sit in front of him at his feet. Earlier he’d thought the beast was there to protect him from an angry father. Apparently not.
The viscount’s horse whinnied, calling the attention of the group. It was clear they would not be able to escape without bloodshed today.
“Tell me, my lord, are you a good shot with your pistols?”
The man’s lips pulled up in a grin sure to make any son-in-law cringe. “Oh, yes.”
…
Dorie paced the bailey, waiting for her men to return. All of them, father, husband, and dog, had gone out on a hunting trip in the wee hours of the morning. It was now late afternoon, and she worried what could be keeping them.
Her first concern was that someone might have said something to cause an argument. Both her father and husband wouldn’t be above baiting the other if it amused them. But she knew neither would take it so far as to cause actual harm.
As the maids in the hall began preparing for the evening meal, Dorie became even more anxious and went to find Lachlan.
While he didn’t seem worried, he indulged her request to go look for them.
He was mounting up to go search for Bryce and her father when the guard on the gate yelled down.
“Riders!”
The sound of the gate opening meant the guard knew who it was. Her heart lifted when Bryce and her father rode through the gate, but it quickly fell when she looked closer.
Both men were covered in blood. Her father had a piece of linen tied tightly around his thigh. When they stopped in front of her, she noticed a moaning m
an lashed to the back of her husband’s horse.
“Get the healer,” he called to a maid.
“What’s happened?” Lach was the one to put a voice to her question.
“McCurdys. Four of them. The viscount was able to take out one with his pistol and injure this one. Rascal got one, leaving only one for me.” Bryce patted the dog whose fur was matted with blood.
The way he wagged his tail when he came to her made it clear none of the blood was his. She swallowed and patted the dog on the head, not wanting to think of any of her men in danger.
“Father?” she said as he dismounted gingerly and nearly crumbled when he put weight on his injured leg. Bryce was quick to his side to support him and help him into the hall.
He called to two men seated, ordering them to bring the injured McCurdy inside.
Abagail, Kenna, and Mari all rushed to her father to look at his injury. Abagail barked out commands to the maids and they rushed toward the kitchen.
“It’s nothing but a cut,” her father said, brushing it off. Dorie wasn’t so certain by the amount of blood staining his breeches.
“’Tis true. Though it is a deep cut and will require stitching,” Abagail said as Kenna nodded her agreement.
Lachlan brought out the whisky and supplied generous amounts to her father with a sympathetic look. She held her father’s hand when Abagail began stitching. To her surprise, her father barely registered the pain. He surely didn’t squeeze her hand fiercely, as she’d expected. A wince here and there was his only sign of displeasure. Most of the time he smiled at her and asked her questions to distract himself.
“Have you suffered great pain before?” she asked when the stitching was done and he’d not even broken out in a sweat.
He offered a grim smile and nodded. “Yes, love. When I found out your mother had died. This cut is nothing compared to that pain.”
Dorie glanced over at Bryce, who was dealing with their prisoner, and considered what he’d lived through. His great love and the child from their union lost. It was no wonder he was dulled to any other pain.
Her Reluctant Highlander Husband (Clan MacKinlay) Page 17
