Marion took a long, shaky breath. Deep within, she knew her words would not convince him. He had to realize it himself. “I know not to expect your love,” she said, hoping to ease the lines of worry on his forehead. He already knew she wanted it; there was no point in saying it.
He gave her a dark, layered look before pulling her roughly to him. “Marion, ye should expect it. Ye’re my wife.” He shook his head. “I’m nae good with talk of the heart. Let me try again. What I want to say is that I want to look toward the future, nae dwell in the past anymore.”
“What of your fears?” she whispered into his chest.
“They are mine to conquer.”
She peered sideways at his strong profile. Did that mean he thought he could defeat them? Did that mean he thought he might be able to make space in his heart to love her?
“What now?” she asked.
He set her away and motioned to the foot of the bed. “I moved Catriona’s trunk out of the bedchamber, as I should have done when ye came. This is our bedchamber now. I want ye to be comfortable here and feel it is as much yers as mine.”
Tears stung her eyes as warmness enveloped her.
He frowned and wiped the pad of his thumb across her cheek to catch her tears. “What’s this?”
“Happiness,” she said. “You’ve made me very happy. And I’m terribly sorry about Catriona’s gown. I truly did not know. You see—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “I ken all about it. Fiona admitted what she did.”
Marion moved Iain’s finger. “I’d like to talk to her.” Part of her wanted to throttle the woman, but part of her wanted to try to help ease the pain she must be feeling.
“Ye kinnae.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“She’s gone.”
“Iain!” she gasped. “What have you done?”
He grimaced at her. “What I should have done months ago when she started hinting that I should marry her. I sent her away to marry another.”
“Oh, Iain! How could you?”
“Verra easily,” he said, crossing his arms. “I simply sent for the man, and he came to get her. Dunnae fret. He’s a good man.”
Marion shook her head at his words. “But she surely doesn’t love him.”
“They’ve shaken hands and agreed to be bound in marriage for one year, and if after that she kinnae bring herself to stay married to him, I’ll allow her back on the condition that she’ll leave for good if she causes trouble again. Either way, she has a year to change her ways.”
Iain’s explanation made Marion feel a bit better, but still. “The other women will hate me.”
“I ordered them nae to,” he replied.
Marion choked out a laugh. “We spoke of this before, Iain. It does not work that way.”
“It does in the clan, Marion. Ye’ll learn.”
She refused to argue. She knew he’d done it out of concern for her, and that part made her happy.
He leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. “Now we need to discuss Froste. Did ye see anyone or hear anything when ye were by the water?”
She nodded, anxiety twisting in her stomach. “I saw two of his men, and I heard them talking. I was attempting to escape their attention when I fell and hit my head, and when I awoke, I saw the torches and presumed more of them had arrived. I didn’t know it was you and your men, so I tried to run back to the castle to warn you.”
“I thought as much,” he said, his mouth setting in a hard, angry line.
A sudden chill took her at the memory, and she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “They were sent to find a way into the castle.”
“Oh, aye? So as to kill me first when they attack,” he said, matter-of-fact.
She took a quick, sharp breath. “How did you know that?”
“I’m laird, Marion. ’Tis my duty to ken my enemies. Beyond that, it makes sense. Even if they take ye against my will, they need me dead so Froste can marry ye. I think their aim on Alex’s land was to get ye back before the marriage was consummated, and now”—he grinned—“they rightly suppose it has been. Now they must get ye back and kill me.”
She studied him, trying to determine what he was thinking, but he’d lowered the mask he so often wore. “Are you not worried?”
“Nay. Froste should be, though. When he comes for me, I’ll be waiting. And ready.”
Menace wrapped around his words and made her shudder. “What will you do?”
“Kill him,” he replied, as if it would be so simple and not dangerous for him at all.
Iain stood, stretched, and started toward the door. Marion clamped her jaw shut as she watched him until he turned the door handle and her mind registered that he was actually leaving the room. “Where are you going?”
He faced her. “To ready my men,” he said, as if it were obvious. He studied her long and hard. “Go back to sleep.”
“I’m not tired,” she protested.
“Ye are. There are dark smudges under yer eyes.”
“They are under yours, as well. Perchance you should come to bed with me?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “A verra tempting suggestion, but I’ve yet to deal with the watchman who fell asleep and failed to sight Froste’s ship.”
Worry quickened her breath. “What will you do to him?”
“His error almost cost ye yer life. He’ll go.”
She frowned. “Go where?”
“Out of the clan, Marion.”
“What?” She scrambled out of the bed and nearly tripped into Iain’s arms. “Do you always banish men from your clan when they do something wrong?”
“Nay, but no one has ever done anything that almost cost me ye. I kinnae forgive it.”
Her heart swelled that she meant so much to him, but he was being unreasonable. She had to make him see it. “Please, Iain.” She ran her hand lightly down his chest. “Be kind and patient with him. For me?”
“What would ye have me do?” he asked, his voice pitching low with what she now knew was desire.
That was a good question. Her mind raced to come up with an answer he’d accept. “Remove him from his post and put him in a lesser position.”
“Such as?” He quirked his eyebrows at her. “I kinnae trust him.”
“You can make him earn your trust again,” she offered. When he didn’t look convinced, she seized on the one thing she hoped would work. “If you send him away from the clan, your men will surely blame me.” It was true, but she felt guilty for using the fact that Iain would never want to do anything to cause her problems with his clan against him.
He frowned. “I dunnae think so. They ken what an error it was.”
“Thinking is not knowing,” she chided. “What if you’re wrong? Please, Iain.”
He sighed. “I’ll put him in the stables to feed and water the horses. Will that please ye?”
“Yes!” she said, grinning at him.
Iain chuckled and patted her on the bottom. “To bed with ye. I’ll be back later to see if ye are well.”
She resisted the urge to scowl at his order. She knew it had been given out of concern for her. “I’m not going to stay abed all day. I feel much better. And lying here would make me feel trapped and worse.”
He looked as if he wanted to protest, but he finally nodded. “If ye go outside, take Archibald with ye, but dunnae leave castle grounds with anyone but me.”
She clenched her teeth. She knew he was worried. She was, too. But she didn’t like feeling trapped. “It’s as if I’m being kept prisoner in our home.”
His jaw ticked at the side, showing his mounting frustration. “Dunnae think of it that way. I’m simply keeping ye safe until I’ve dealt with Froste.”
“Surely, you do not mean to make poor Archibald attend me every time I want to go outside?” she prodded, trying to make him see reason. “He’s supposed to be watching Bridgette.”
Iain’s expression hardened. “Now he’ll watch over both of ye.”<
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“I feel so much better now,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes.
He smiled at her, as if a mere smile would make it all better. Her heart betrayed her and tugged as he’d likely intended. His gaze softened. “I’ll attend ye when I can. If I kinnae and Archibald kinnae, then Angus can. Or I’ll appoint someone else.”
She glared at him, to which he responded with a broader grin. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and left before she could say more.
Certainly no longer tired now, she marched to the wardrobe to retrieve the gown she’d borrowed from Bridgette. But when she opened the door, her jaw fell open. A lovely gown of wool, fashioned with wide sleeves and a more fitting cut than the traditional highland woman’s garb, hung there. She didn’t hesitate to put it on. It fit perfectly. As she struggled with the laces, a knock came at the door.
“Yes,” she called out, hearing the frustration in her own short tone.
“May I come in?” Bridgette replied.
“Oh yes!” Marion called back.
Bridgette chuckled when she saw Marion twisting about, trying to tie her own laces.
“Help, please!” Marion begged.
“Turn round,” Bridgette demanded.
Marion immediately complied. “Bridgette, have you any idea who put this gown in here?”
“Nay.”
Marion frowned, wondering if perchance Kyla had made the gown. Had Iain demanded it or did Kyla still like her? She turned to Bridgette. “Were you there when Iain sent Fiona away and ordered the women to like me?”
Bridgette pressed her lips together, but Marion could see she was fighting a smile.
“Oh no…,” Marion whispered. “Do the women hate me?”
“Most dunnae for Fiona being disciplined. Though a few of her friends did grumble, especially Alanna.”
“You said for Fiona being disciplined.”
“Aye,” Bridgette said, still struggling not to smile and finally losing the battle. Two large dimples appeared and her eyes twinkled.
Marion knitted her brow. “I hardly think the MacLeod women disliking me should make you smile,” she grumbled.
Bridgette had the nerve to laugh in her face. “Ask me why they are griping, Marion.”
Marion hesitated, sensing mischief in Bridgette’s tone, but then her curiosity prevailed. “Why do they not care for me?”
“It’s nae that they dunnae care for ye. Many are envious of ye.”
Marion felt her jaw drop open. “Envious of me?”
Bridgette nodded.
“Whatever for? There’s no reason to be jealous of— Oh!” Her shoulders sagged. “They wish to be married to Iain.”
“Well,” Bridgette said slowly, her laughter making her voice shake, “I’m sure afore he married Catriona, then after her death and afore ye came along, they wished it, but now they are envious because they long to be married to a man who loves them with as much passion as the MacLeod loves ye.”
Marion burst out laughing now, too. “You must be teasing!”
Bridgette frowned. “I dunnae tease about love, and I may even be one of those women who is a wee bit envious. I would love to have Lachlan look at me the way Iain looks at ye.”
Marion arched her eyebrows at her friend. “You wish for Lachlan to look at you as if he’s tormented by how he should feel for you?”
“Aye!” Bridgette said. “I’d gladly take confusion on his face instead of the blank expression with which he stares at me. Then at least I’d ken he feels something. However, Iain does nae look at ye like a man tormented.” Bridgette quirked her mouth. “Och. Well, sometimes, but mostly, especially the night ye appeared in the hall wearing Catriona’s wedding gown—afore he realized what ye were wearing—he looked like a man verra much in love. His eyes go all soft when he looks at ye and a smile always plays at his lips. Oh! And yesterday, even when ye were nowhere in sight and he sent Fiona away and demanded all the MacLeod women like ye, he looked like a man who would fight the devil himself to defend ye. No man who is nae in love looks like that.”
“I assure you, he’s not in love with me.” No matter how deeply she longed for it, she refused to fool herself.
“I assure ye, he is. Now he may nae have told ye yet…” Bridgette gave her a questioning look, and Marion shook her head. “Och, well, he is still denying it, then. Do ye nae remember what the seer said?”
Before Marion could answer, Bridgette spoke again. “Thrice he’ll stare how he feels for ye in the face, and thrice he’ll deny it.” Her accent so mimicked the seer’s that gooseflesh appeared on Marion’s arms. Bridgette cackled—for effect, Marion knew—but it still made Marion shiver. “But if the Fairy Flag flies again, then the love that is now but a seed in his gut will have found a way to his heart and will grow into a vine that stretches to the heavens. It will be a new love. Nae the same as any that grew afore it, but strong, true, and a blessing,” Bridgette finished.
Marion trembled where she stood, exhilarated by the possibility that Iain was starting to truly love her. Yet she also shook with the very real fear that if it was true, and if the seer’s prophecy was correct, Iain would eventually fly the Fairy Flag to save the clan, which could only mean the clan was in danger because of her. Her thoughts turned in circles and each loop led to Froste, which led to her father. Before she could think more on it, a wave of nausea overcame her. She barely made it to the bucket before she was sick.
Bridgette hovered behind her as she retched, and when she was done, her friend handed her a linen. “Are ye sure ye feel well enough to be out of bed?”
Marion nodded. “Yes, I feel fine, except I have been rather nauseated in the mornings and haven’t had much of an appetite.” She gave Bridgette a stern look. “Don’t mention it to Iain. I don’t want him to worry.”
Bridgette stared at her oddly for a long moment. “Marion, may I ask ye something delicate?”
Marion nodded.
Bridgette furrowed her brow. “When was the last time ye had yer flux?”
Marion felt a blush rise to her cheeks, but she cast her mind back and then gasped. “Well before I left England.” She could not stop the grin that came to her face. “Bring me the cup over by the bucket.”
“Why?” Bridgette asked with a frown.
Marion strode past Bridgette and picked up the cup before scurrying behind the dressing curtain. As she pulled her clothes down to relieve her bladder, she said, “The midwife in the village near my father’s home told me that if a woman is with child, her urine will be clear.”
Bridgette snorted. “And ye believe that? My mother told me a sure sign was morning nausea. Ye’re going to have a bairn!”
A child.
Marion’s hand fluttered to her belly as she pulled up her clothing and looked into the cup. She needed proper light to see the color. She dashed to the window, and her breath caught. It looked clear! She and Iain had made a child. Heaven above! Her fingers curled against the skin of her belly as she thought of falling down the stairs and that she could have lost the babe. She exhaled a shaky breath of relief that she had not.
Would Iain be as happy as she was at the news?
Her grin faltered a bit as Bridgette came to peer over her shoulder. “That looks clear to me. Ye must tell Iain at once!”
Marion nodded. “I will. I just wish…” She let the words trail off. She was embarrassed to say that she wished he loved her. What if he felt he must say the words now because she carried his child, but he didn’t truly mean them?
“Ye wish what?”
“Nothing,” Marion said, forcing her grin wide once more. “I’ll tell him tonight when we are alone. You must keep this a secret until I’ve done so.”
“I vow I will.”
“Come.” Marion grabbed Bridgette’s hand. “I’ve a feeling he’ll limit my leaving the castle even more once he knows this, so let’s go. I want to do a great deal today.”
As Marion and Bridgette made their way to the kitchen, Graham appeared
and Marion had to suppress the desire to poke Bridgette with her elbow when an irritated look crossed her face.
Graham faced Bridgette with such a look of tenderness that Marion ached for him. “Bridgette, would ye care to go riding with me and Lachlan?” he asked.
Her entire face lit up at the mention of Lachlan. “Yes!” she gushed. “Let me go get my bow.”
Graham grinned. “I’ll come with ye and we will go to the stables from there.”
Bridgette started to dash off and then turned back to Marion. “If ye dunnae need me to stay?”
Marion waved a hand at her friend. “Go.”
Bridgette nodded, and she and Graham departed, leaving Marion alone in the hall. She stood for a moment looking down at her flat stomach and grinning, anticipating the quickening. When Marion entered the kitchen, the heat from the ovens and the smells of freshly baking bread and venison assaulted her. Normally, she loved both, but right now they mattered not. She pressed a hand to her stomach and smiled secretly to herself.
Before she could linger on the thought any longer, she caught sight of Elspeth, who paused her stirring in mid-motion. A smile came to Elspeth’s face, and Marion released her held breath.
“Marion, it’s good to see ye recovered!” she said and laid her spoon on the counter.
Several of the women stopped what they were doing, including Kyla, who rushed over to Marion and embraced her. The woman arched her dark eyebrows as she surveyed Marion. “I see I judged correctly with the gown.”
“Oh, Kyla!” Marion exclaimed. “Thank you! It’s lovely.”
Kyla nodded and patted Marion’s hand. “We all ken what a rotten thing Fiona did to ye. I went directly home after he ordered ye out of the great hall and started on a gown for ye. I decided if it did nae fit quite right, it would do until we could make ye more.”
“That was very kind of you,” Marion said, running her hand down her skirts and thinking happily that she would need looser-fitting gowns soon. She glanced around the room at the women who were hovering but feigning interest. She felt as if she needed to say something about what had happened with Fiona. “I want you all to know how sorry I am that Fiona was sent away.”
When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1) Page 27
