Authors: Eve Cameron
Lachlan wanted to laugh at the picture she painted, but he knew Catriona would be mortified if he gave any indication of how wretched she looked. Her auburn curls poked in every possible direction, like a Scottish Medusa, and her features were pale and drawn. Oddly, her emerald eyes looked even more luminous, bloodshot as they were. Lachlan stifled another chuckle as he leaned forward, pushing one of the wayward curls behind her delicate ear. “That’s better,” he said gently, watching a look of uncertainty and suspicion pass over her face. “Lying abed is no’ going to be of much help – and you can trust my word on that. You would be far better off facing the day, for it will distract you from yer…discomfort.”
Catriona studied Lachlan carefully. Warring emotions surged within her as she weighed the sincerity of his words. As desperately as she wanted to believe him, she couldn’t comprehend what had changed in the few short hours since he had been furious with her. He held her gaze steadily, his grey eyes bright with affection, and the confusion she felt almost overwhelmed her. In that instant, she decided she would not endure another minute of not knowing exactly where she stood with her own husband.
“I appreciate yer concern, but surely you can understand I feel a wee bit surprised by yer sudden interest in my well-being.” A dark eyebrow arched upward, but Lachlan wisely chose to hold his tongue. “Yesterday you were ready to have me confined to the dungeon because I defied yer orders and came with you to Boyne. You ignored me last evening, until my father’s humiliation forced you to acknowledge my presence.” Lachlan shifted uncomfortably on the bed, but he still held his tongue. “Then Cook tells me you took care of me during the night after I had….overindulged. What exactly am I to make of this abrupt change of heart?”
Lachlan studied her for a moment before responding, knowing how much depended upon his answer. Her eyes were flashing with temper, her face wan and vulnerable, but despite her wretched state, she had never looked more beautiful to him. “First of all, lass, you should no’ have come with me to Boyne. You put yerself – and my men – in jeopardy with yer actions.” Catriona started to interrupt, but he held his hand up for silence. “I do no’ want to hear any more arguments, Catriona. I only hope you’ve learned yer lesson.”
Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he leaned forward to clasp her hand in his own as he softened his words. “Yer an intelligent woman, but you ken naught of war and what dangers there are in battles with a man like Leslie. In these matters, you must listen to me. I’ll allow no argument on that count.” Catriona’s gaze shifted downward, her chin dipping low as her lashes brushed against her pale cheeks. Gently, he reached up to lift her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his. “You are precious to me, Catriona, and I reacted strongly because I was scared I might lose you. Can you no’ understand that? I am sorry if my actions seemed harsh, or if yer feelings were wounded, but I acted out of concern for yer welfare.”
Despite the hope she felt at Lachlan’s words, Catriona knew there was more that needed to be said between them. She was tired of uncertainty, and was determined to give voice to her feelings, no matter what the cost. “I had thought things were better between us at Tolquhon…” she began, her quavering voice betraying her emotion. “We seemed to be growing closer. Then when this happened – when you gave me orders without explaining them fully, or listening to my feelings on the matter – I felt as if everything we had gained had come tumbling down around us.” Her eyes sought his, and her resolve was strengthened with the warmth and concern she saw in his gaze. “I have kent little affection in my life, Lachlan, and as much as I want to believe that you care for me…,” her words trailed off as her gaze shifted from Lachlan to a distant spot behind him. “I remember only too well that neither of us chose this marriage. Part of me hopes something more has grown between us, that we can be partners in this. And yet another part is scared that I will be rejected. Again.”
The hurt in her eyes made him feel every bit the coward he aspired not to be. He had failed this woman miserably, he realized now. Consumed by his own responsibilities, his sense of duty – and his pride – he had failed to give Catriona the affection and assurances she needed to be comfortable and confident as his wife.
It was an oversight he intended to correct immediately, regardless of how his overture might be received. Or the wounds his own pride might suffer.
Reaching out to his wife, Lachlan scooped her up into his arms, setting her on his lap. Pulling her closer, he tucked her head under his chin, brushing his lips against her hair. Slowly, he could feel some of the tension leaving her body as she nestled her face against his chest. “I love you, lass,” he whispered, his breath stirring the curls that clung to the graceful arc of her neck. “But I have failed you. I have ne’er regarded this marriage as a burden. In truth, I feel verra lucky to call you wife. I know I should have told you that sooner, but I was afraid…I feared you might not be as content in the marriage as I am. That with my useless hand and meager fortune, I was no’ the man you wanted for a husband. And I did no’ want to look the fool,” he added sheepishly.
Catriona could feel the rapid pulse of his heart against her cheek, but she was certain that her own heart had ceased beating entirely. “You have brought a lot to my life and to my – to our clan, Catriona. In the time we have been wed I have come to have strong feelings for you. But I was afraid you would no’ share those feelings, not after all you’ve been through.”
Catriona took a long moment to savor her husband’s words, words she’d waited a lifetime to hear. As she did, a slow, shy smile began to spread across her lips. “Am I to understand that the laird of Clan Forbes was afraid he would be rejected by his own wife?” she asked playfully, hiding her smile against the coarse matt of hair that covered his broad chest.
“Aye,” Lachlan admitted, embarrassed to hear his fears put into such stark, bland terms.
“Well then,” Catriona replied, “I guess you are no’ nearly as canny as I thought you were.”
Lachlan was still for a moment, savoring the feel of his wife in his arms. “Are you calling me daft then, lass?” he asked finally, unable to contain his own smile.
“Aye – verra daft, for I have loved you since I was a child, Lachlan. Only a blind man would no’ see the depth of the feelings I have for you. Or miss the fact that I have been proud every day of our marriage to call you husband.” Enjoying the discomfort she was causing him, Catriona sighed loudly. “It would appear that I am married to a simpleton. I shall have to check with Iain to see if it is too late to seek an annulment on those grounds.”
Lachlan moved so quickly that Catriona had no time to react. Laying her down across the bed, he began to place a trail of kisses across her face before capturing her mouth in a demanding, consuming kiss. Slowly pulling back, he looked down into her flushed, radiant face, and was gratified to see the love he felt mirrored in her passion-glazed eyes. “Do you think you feel well enough now to see to my education, lass?” he asked, his voice husky with desire. “I would rather no’ waste any more time.”
“I would be delighted,” Catriona replied, pulling him closer so that they could begin their first lesson.
###
It was mid afternoon before Lachlan reluctantly left his wife’s bed. He quietly retrieved his linen shirt from the floor, pulling it carelessly over his head before searching the chamber for the kilt and belt he had thoughtlessly tossed aside hours earlier. He paused to gaze down at his sleeping wife before he left the room, filled with a sense of peace and contentment. Though he knew they still had challenges to their happiness, the fact that they would confront them together eased his mind considerably.
Knowing that Catriona returned his love gave him a feeling of completeness he hadn’t realized he had lacked. It was a heady feeling, and as he covered his sleeping wife with a blanket, he silently thanked the fates for his good fortune.
As Lachlan quietly left Catriona’s chamber, he was acutely aware of the interest of the servants he passed on his way to the great hall. The young laird’s midmorning visit to his wife’s chamber – and the lengthy spell he had spent ensconced with her in private – were sure to be the subject of much gossip within Boyne Castle.
Let them gossip
, Lachlan thought, a satisfied smile crossing his lips. It was worth every moment of speculation – and then some.
Though it was long past the afternoon meal, Lachlan was soon able to convince one of the serving lasses to scavenge some food for him from the kitchen. Several of his men were mulling about the great hall, tossing dice in front of the fire and telling stories to pass the time. It wasn’t long before Rory had ambled over to the table to join his laird as he consumed his meal with a voracious appetite.
“Do I take it then that all is well with yer lady?” the grizzled warrior asked, tired of waiting for any conversation to be initiated by his laird. “Ye look even more like a love-struck oaf than usual, though I did no’ think it possible.”
Though Lachlan attempted to give his man-at-arms his most threatening glare, it was impossible in light of the way his spirit soared. “Given my generous mood, I will ignore yer insult,” he retorted, making a vaguely threatening motion with the knife he held in his hand, “but next time, I may no’ be so forgiving.” His belly finally satisfied, Lachlan pushed his plate away, mumbling his thanks to the lass who swept down to take it away. “Aye, all is well between us. I did no’ ken I would feel such relief just to have made peace with a woman.”
Rory nodded as he took a sip of the Earl’s watered-down ale, relieved the tension between the two had been resolved. Catriona had won a place of respect and acceptance in Clan Forbes, and the troubles between the laird and his wife had been well known and widely speculated upon. It would be a relief to all concerned to know that the pair were no longer at odds. “Your lady did ye proud last night, Lachlan. I’m glad ye ken that.”
“That she did, at least until the wine got the better of her,” the young laird replied with a chuckle. “I was more surprised than anyone to see her stand up to her da as she did. Not that they did no’ deserve it. He has ne’er been a parent to the lass. He gave all his affection to Elizabeth, his first daughter, and there was naught left for Catriona. Or Iain, for that matter. To this day, Seafield puts Leslie’s word above that of his own son. What kind of a man does that?”
Rory snorted his contempt. “Tae call the Earl a man is bein’ generous. He’s a cowardly sod who is no’ fit tae be in yer lady’s presence. Why, tae think such a bastard could sire a spirited lass like that…”
“Be careful, Rory, or I shall begin to think you harbor more than respect for my wife,” Lachlan joked, his eyes flashing mischievously at his friend’s obvious discomfort.
“I have my sights set elsewhere, laird, but I do thank ye for yer interest.”
Lachlan laughed easily, glad for the loyalty his chief felt for Catriona. “If I’m no’ mistaken, it’s Annella you’ve set yer eye on, is it no’?” Rory shrugged noncommittally, no longer as comfortable meeting his laird’s piercing gaze. “Should I be prepared for you to make an offer for her in the near future?”
“Let’s no’ get ahead of ourselves,” Rory replied quickly, peering around the room to ensure that no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. “Ye ken what they say about puttin’ the cart in front of the horse. And just because ye’ve managed to survive married life does no’ mean everyone else is anxious to follow yer lead.”
Lachlan thought his friend’s protests rather weak, but wisely chose to keep those thoughts to himself. “As you wish, my friend. As for myself, I do no’ want to tarry here any longer than absolutely necessary. I plan to speak with Seafield as soon as I can. With any luck, I would like to leave Boyne at dawn, and be back at Tolquhon before the afternoon meal tomorrow. I dare no’ leave the keep unattended any longer than I must, not with Leslie at loose ends.”
The two men finalized their plans before Lachlan left the great hall in search of his father-in-law. The staff informed him the Earl was attending to clan business in his study, and Lachlan quickly made his way through the long, narrow halls to the east wing.
Lachlan knocked several times on the heavy oak door, but received no response. Frustrated with the treatment he was receiving, he pushed his way into the Earl’s study, ignoring the shocked expression of the man’s seneschal. Within moments of seeing Lachlan’s determined glare, the servant stuttered his apologies and fled down the hall, leaving the heavy oak door open in his wake. “I need a moment of yer time, sir,” Lachlan said in a clipped tone, his posture uncompromising as he stared down at the older man. Seafield ignored him as he sat at his desk, reviewing figures from the castle’s ledger. Lachlan’s words were uncompromising as he perched his weight on the edge of the desk, his close proximity forcing the Earl to acknowledge him. “It will no’ take long, but it’s verra important I have a word with you.”
A flash of irritation crossed the Earl’s sour features before he schooled his face in a placid mask. “Of course, Forbes,” he said finally, gesturing to a chair that sat next to his huge, intricately carved oak desk. “I was expecting you sometime this afternoon. May I offer you a drink?”
“No thank you, sir.”
“My daughter is well then, I take it?”
“Catriona is fine, sir.”
“Yer accommodations are suitable?”
“Yes sir, they are fine,” Lachlan replied, struggling to control his impatience. Clearly, Seafield was stalling for time. Regardless of his reluctance to deal with the situation, it had to be addressed.
Now.
“We need to discuss Calum Leslie, sir.”
The Earl’s expression soured visibly as he waved his hand dismissively. “I’ve said all I have to say on the matter. There is naught I can see worth discussing here. It’s all idle gossip from those who have naught better to do than blacken the reputation of a good man – jealousy and rumors with no foundation in truth.”