A Perfect Wife [Highland Menage 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (18 page)

“Why would someone do that to a woman?”

“She did it to herself,” said Ramsay. “Kiera told Todd her dear brother sold her innocence for coin. She was so distraught she slashed her face so she’d be too ugly to be wanted.”

Malcolm cursed. “We’ll find a place for her.” He bowed with respect, looking her in the eyes. She stood a little straighter, swallowed hard, and dipped a servant’s bob in return.

“I had a cousin like that,” said Ramsay. “We learned to use signs to speak with her. Her husband would say with a smile that she never lectured him.”

“There is that. She needs someone with patience who likes it quiet.”

Ross’s ship had come about, sailing toward Dunskeath Castle. Molly looked to Malcolm. He put his hand on his heart and bowed respectfully to her, smiling in welcome. She pressed her lips together, blinking hard. A tremulous attempt at its return pulled up one corner of her lip, then the other, but not both at once.

“Do ye think Molly would find a place, perhaps even marry after what’s been done to her?”

The keeper nodded. “I was thinking Fergus could use some company. He likes it quiet and is kind and gentle. He’s lonely but doesna wish to be a nuisance. Kiera said Molly was a weaver, and Fergus has space for a loom. Over time, if she is interested they may share his pallet. But he will not force her.”

“And if she canna hear, read, or speak she willna pass on secrets from his papers.”

Ramsay nodded. “Glad ye are thinkin’ again, Laird Malcolm.”

“What I am thinking is that I need to see my wife.”

He needed to do more than see her. He needed to hold her and tell her that he didn’t want to live without her. That he was so thickheaded he’d refused to understand about loving her until he’d almost lost her. That he would spend what life he had left, making sure she understood he loved her.

The boot she’d thrown missed Malcolm’s head by six inches. A very precise six inches.

“Why didn’t you tell me!”

“We didn’t wish to worry ye on yer first day out, sweetling.”

“Dinna ‘sweetling’ me!”

Kiera narrowed her eyes at Duff. Not liking his attitude, she bent to remove the one boot that still fit. She’d waited, and waited,
and waited
for Duff and Malcolm to join her in their chamber.

“
’
Tisn’t seemly for the Lady of Kinrowan to throw her boots at her husbands,” chided Malcolm.

It wasn’t his words as much as his smirk that drove her fury.

“In this chamber there is no lady, nor laird,” she replied furiously. “Nor steward,” she added, directing her glare at Duff as she struggled to get her boot past her ankle.

“Nay, but there is a wife, and two husbands.” Malcolm’s tone was colder, his voice deeper. “A wife who vowed to obey, serving and being submissive to me.”

Keeping her head down she growled a rude reply, making sure she kept it too low for him to hear. She finally yanked her boot off. The toe of her stocking needed mending.

“As I vowed to be faithfully loving and caring.”

His words made her catch her breath with hope. And then she realized by loving he meant physical, not from his heart. She curled forward in pain, but only for a moment. She would not give in to pity! She would serve the people of Kinrowan. If she had to put up with a pair of arrogant husbands as part of it, so be it!

“Loving? Ha!” She gave them her best scowl. “You mean the touching of me. Well, I wish more from a husband than his body!” She reached under her skirts to undo her stocking. “I tried to be a perfect wife so that you’d love me the way my father loved my mother. As love is something you canna give, I have a wee bit less interest in following the vows I gave.”

Her eyes prickled at her shrewish, bitter tone. She’d hoped never to feel that way again. She could act as she chose inside this chamber. Her people would never hear that tone from her.

Instead of taking the time to roll her stocking neatly she shoved it down her leg and yanked it off. The hole doubled in size.

“Satan’s left toenail!” She stuck her finger through the hole.

“Why do ye say we canna love?”

Her throat tightened at Malcolm’s quiet words. She knew he cared for her. But was it enough? She slumped, silently wishing there was hope.

“Because you’ve naught seen love,” she croaked. “Because you feel you must act the manly laird with a face like stone. Because God forbid you be seen as weak.”

Her words rang in the silence.

“Kiera, I said I’d always tell ye the truth. Do ye trust me to do so?”

She crushed her stocking in her hand, fury spent. “Aye, Duff, I do.”

“Ye said we didna have love growing up. Ye’re right. Our mother never cared for her children. Our father thought of naught but himself.” He snorted. “He loved many women but, as ye say,
’
twas only physical.”

Her belly cramped at the thought of such a life. Perhaps they could love an innocent child, the product of their seed. An adult woman was a threat, and a challenge.

“Kiera, the first time we saw love between a husband and wife was with the Camerons at Inverlochy Castle, then with Laird and Lady Fraser. A light shone when their eyes met, and they shared sweet smiles.”

“My father was like that with my mother,” she murmured. She remembered them sitting by the fire of an evening, each working on some task, comfortable in each other’s presence.

“Both Cameron and Fraser are hard warriors, experienced men who rule well.” Duff scratched the back of his head. “They’ve also been with their lady wives for longer than we’ve been alive. It made me think
’
twould take until the babe ye carry was grown afore I’d know the same.”

She looked up when he fell silent.

“Kiera, we dinna have that kind of love with ye,” he murmured.

An arrow of pain pierced her heart. She flinched.

“Nay, but we will!”

Duff strode forward and knelt before her. She stared at the wet drops falling in her lap. He took her hands in his, first tossing her stocking aside.

“I love ye, Kiera MacKenzie. I even love that look ye had in yer eye as ye judged the weight of yer boot afore heaving it at my twin.”

Her lip curled up, thinking of his look of shock.

“And I ken that ye would have hit him if ye wished.”

“My mother said a wife is allowed to throw things at her laird husband, but not hit him.” She sniffed back her tears and straightened her spine. “I have good aim.”

“Aye, ye do.” Malcolm cleared his throat from the frog that had caught in it. “Laird MacKenzie told me of yer mother doing the same.
’
Twas after something hit the closed door of yer chamber right where my head would have been, the first time we met.”

She pinned his rough chuckle with her glare.

“And what of you, Laird Kinrowan? Does Duff speak only for himself? For I kenned I loved him afore he left my sheiling. Afore I was forced to accept his twin as my husband!”

Malcolm flinched.

“We kenned naught of yer father’s plan,” replied Malcolm. “I was watching in the hall the night ye returned from yer sheiling. I looked for the woman I was told ye were. Bitter, scowling, angry at the world, and wearing ugly clothes that suited yer mood.” His face eased. “I saw a smiling beauty in a green dress walk with Colin and cursed his luck in finding such a stunning, tall, bride. But I put it aside and decided I would treat my own wife as if she were beautiful, inside and out. That mayhaps in time she would believe it herself.”

He was right in that she’d not believed herself beautiful. Not in her heart, nor in her skin. She was a different person here at Kinrowan. It had started when she first met Duff. He'd not known who she was, or her past.

“When I heard ye’d been taken I felt like I’d died,” continued Malcolm, his voice hoarse. “The world stopped, and my eyes went dark. I put my fear aside and acted the laird, doing what was needed for the clan.”

He shut his eyes, hands in tight fists at his sides.

“All night as I paced, or lost at chess with Fergus, I cursed myself for not seein’ what ye mean to me. I was giving all to Kinrowan, accepting yer gift of yerself as if it was my right. All that changed when ye were stolen from us. We were so busy getting Kinrowan ready for the winter. I thought we’d find time in the long nights of cold and dark to ken each other. Being laird of such a place was everything to me. I thought ye’d be there, waiting until I'd have time for ye.”

She could see the pain he’d been in. She’d lain awake that night as well, not only thinking of how she and Camden would escape, but how upset Duff and Malcolm would be. Not just at the insult Ross gave them by stealing her, but for her as their wife. Surely he would not be so upset unless he cared deeply?

Malcolm’s brilliant blue eyes caught her. “By the morn I knew I lied to myself, Kiera. I’d kenned, in here”—he tapped his heart—“that love is dangerous, so pushed it away, using Kinrowan as an excuse.”

He finally moved, coming to one knee at her side.

“I would have gone on that ship with Ross. To save ye, and our babe, I would easily give Kinrowan to Duff to rule. It is just a place filled with people. Ye are my love.”

“Brother, Kiera was stolen from all of us, not just ye,” said Duff. “I feel the same. I wished to go in place of the laird to save ye.” He hit Malcolm in the rib with his elbow, hard. “My fool of a brother wouldna let me, and since he’s ten minutes older and the laird, I had to obey.”

“We love ye Kiera,” said Malcolm. “Though sometimes ye are stubborn and make us crazy—”

“And wild with lust,” interrupted Duff. “’Dinna forget that.”

“—we wish ye to be in our lives forever. Will ye accept us?”

She had them on their knees, begging her to accept them. It was more than she’d thought possible. A lump formed in her throat.

“You love me, for true? The way I mean it, forever?”

“Aye, Kiera, I love ye with all my heart, my soul, and my body,” said Malcolm.

“Especially yer body,” leered Duff playfully.

It was what she wanted, but something felt off. It was good to see, once, how they cared for her. But these men were warriors. She wanted their strength and power, as well as their love.

“I believe you.”

Duff grinned while Malcolm exhaled, shuddering. He stood, strong and confident. Duff kissed her cheek as he got up. She struggled out of her chair and slipped to her knees.

“What are ye—”

“
’
Tis my turn. I love you both. The night we met in my bedchamber,” she said to Malcolm, “you said I must prove myself worthy by kneeling at your feet.”

“Aye, but I’d barely met ye. I said it for yer father as well as for myself.”

“I wish to kneel, to prove that I will be a good wife to you.”

“Not a perfect wife?”

She sighed, making a face. “Nay. Just the best I can be, for you, and for Duff. I repeat my vow to obey, to serve, and to submit to you, my laird husband. And this time I mean it.”

His eyes almost glowed. He nodded regally.

“And to love you with all my heart,” she added.

“All yer heart?” asked Duff, cocking his head at her.

“Aye. I can give you both all my heart, with much left for our bairns as well,” she replied. “The nature of love is that the more you give it to others, the more you have. Camden also needs our love.”

Malcolm lifted her off her knees, carefully avoiding her sore ankle. He set her on the bed, laying her on her back.

“I am beginning to learn that,” he said. “And I will seek Camden out and tell him so.” He stared down at her and raised a commanding eyebrow. “But first we need to check your injuries.”

“My ankle—”

“My brother means we must strip ye naked, find every scrape and bruise, and kiss them better.” Duff’s voice had deepened to an eager growl.

“Oh.”

Heat flashed over her body. Her nipples tightened into hard buds as her pussy swelled with eagerness. She smiled in welcome.

“Then what are you waiting for, husbands?”

She shrieked as a matched set of eager men reached for her.

“’Twas bad enough that Kiera eloped, but my son and heir? Colin, laddie, what were ye thinkin’?” Laird MacKenzie held up his hand before Colin could answer. “Aye, I ken what ye were thinking. And ’twasn’t done with the head above yer belt.”

“John Grant put off our wedding one time too many, Father. Barbara is my wife in truth now.”

MacKenzie glared at his heir but he was pleased. Colin looked good. Barbara must have convinced him to take off the damn eye patch. Both eyes were open, staring him down, though he knew only one worked.

“Ye’ve taught me ’twas best to act first and ask permission later.” Colin bowed formally. “May I have permission to steal my fiancée and make her my wife?”

“Since she fainted when she rose from her curtsy to me, methinks ’tis a little late,” he replied drily.

Colin tilted his head in confusion. “Late for what?”