The Highlander's Woman (The Reckless Rockwoods #3) (25 page)

Now, after all she’d been through, to hear her say she wished he’d just stood by and watched her die made him realize the extent of her anguish. It wasn’t simply the physical agony she’d suffered for so long after the fire. He knew she was convinced her scars made her a monster. But those scars represented more than just her mistaken notion that she was a monstrous creature to be pitied. They were a constant reminder of the horrors of that night. Patience slowly pushed her way out of his arms and stepped back from him.

“I think we should go back to the house,” she said in a composed voice. “It’s almost teatime, and you didn’t eat very much lunch.”

“Do no’ try to change the subject.”

“I’m not. I’m simply refusing to discuss the past anymore.”

“For how long?” he demanded harshly. “You can no’ let this fester inside you, Patience. It is no’ healthy.”

“Let me be, Julian. I have no desire to discuss the matter any further.” The obstinate tone in her voice made him frown. He’d backed her into a corner, and if he pushed her too hard he would live to regret it.

“As you wish,” he said with a shrug as he fought to hide his frustration. Patience slid her arm through his again, but didn’t press into him as she had earlier. It indicated the invisible gap between them had widened, and he didn’t know if it were possible to bridge the divide.

“K
ings bishop four to kings three. Checkmate.”

The clink of marble against the marble echoed its way upward to the library’s tall ceiling as Muireall planted her chess piece on the board. In his mind’s eye, all of the chess pieces and their placement were vividly etched in his head. Julian growled softly at how Muireall had capitalized on the error he’d made a few moves back. His sister’s gleeful laugh made him scowl in her direction.

“You do no’ need to gloat, Muireall. It is no’ ladylike,” he grumbled.

Beside him, he could hear the faint coughing noise Patience made as she choked back laughter. He turned his head toward the sound. Although he could not see her face, he knew she was struggling to hide her amusement. The instant he scowled at her, she laughed as hard as his sister.

“I do no’ understand what you find so amusing,” he said with irritation.

“I’m sorry, Julian,” Muireall said with distinct amusement.

“You do no’ sound like it.” He shook his head in disgust.

“If it makes you feel better, you were close to winning.” This time there was a note of regret in Muireall’s voice, and he grimaced. Before he could say anything, Patience’s hand touched his forearm in a silent gesture of chastisement.

“Don’t you dare feel guilty for winning, Muireall MacTavish,” Patience chided. “You won fair and square. Your brother had the advantage until just a few moments ago. He’s simply annoyed that you took advantage of his mistake.”

“A mistake caused by my wife,” Julian growled.

“
Me
?” Patience’s voice was filled with surprise and amused disbelief.

“Aye, the honey-sweet scent of your hair distracted me,” he said as he bit back a grin. Patience grew still beside him, and Muireall gave an unladylike snort of laughter.

“Your face is red, Patience.”

Julian grinned openly as the air stirred beside him the moment Patience lifted her hands to her face. When he sensed her about to retreat from him, he quickly caught her hand. The horrific scars from her burns were on the opposite side of her body, and she didn’t try to jerk free of his grasp. Deliberately he traced a small circle in the small hollow of her wrist with his thumb. Julian heard her rapid breathing, and he carried her hand upward to kiss her fingertips.

“On second thought, I should have said it was your perfume that distracted me. Lilacs smell delightful on your skin, my lady.”

The tremor that rippled through her vibrated into his fingers. He smiled as satisfaction surged through him. Over the past three weeks, Patience had ensured that everything between them was as circumspect as possible. It was obvious she was determined to have the courtship they hadn’t had before they were married. This was the first time she’d allowed him to touch her since the day he’d made love to her.

Other than to accept the offer of his arm or when their fingers touched when she handed something, she’d avoided physical contact with him as much as possible. Somehow he didn’t think she was worried about him coercing her back into his bed—something he was beginning to crave like a man without drink. More than likely her distant manner was rooted in her fear he would bring up the past.

“You are an unrepentant rogue, Julian MacTavish,” his wife said with a breathless laugh.

“I shall no’ deny that.” He chuckled in an unapologetic manner. “But I find it easy to do so where you’re concerned.”

“Stop teasing her, Julian,” his sister said with a laugh. “Her cheeks are bright red now.”

“Are they?” Julian grinned and then he frowned. He wanted to see his wife’s face when he complimented her. Patience had always blushed so sweetly. No longer amused, Julian released Patience’s hand. The grandfather clock in the main hall announced the half hour in a sonorous chime.

“It’s time you were in bed, Muireall.”

“I am no longer a child, Julian,” his sister said crisply. “I will be seventeen next week.”

“Aye, that you will,” he said with a nod as Muireall reminded him how quickly she was growing up. “But it’s still late. Patience and I should retire as well since we are riding in the morning.”

“Why not come with us, Muireall?” Patience’s invitation made Julian’s mouth tighten as he fought to appear amenable to the idea of his sister accompanying them on their morning ride.

“I can no’. I promised Mrs. Lester that I would review the dinner menu for my birthday party next week,” Muireall said with obvious regret before her tone lightened. “But the day after tomorrow I would like to go. Will you ride then, Julian?”

“Of course,” he said with a smile.

Julian reveled in the satisfaction and relief he would have Patience completely to himself in the morning. It would be their first ride since the day he’d suffered his migraine. Ever since Patience had agreed to their outing he’d been looking forward to having her alone without the prospect of someone interrupting them. Suddenly, he realized his wife had gone unusually still.

“I didn’t realize we were having guests next week,” Patience said softly.

“We do no’ have to invite anyone,” Muireall said hastily, and although she did an excellent job hiding her disappointment, Julian still heard the echoes of it in his sister’s voice.

“Of course not, dearest,” Patience said quickly. “I was simply surprised.”

“You do no’ mind,” Muireall asked hesitantly.

“Not at all.” Charged emotions vibrated off of her that he could feel as easily as if she were touching him. Her silk gown rustled softly as he saw her shadow lean toward Muireall. “We must make your birthday a wonderful one.”

His wife was far more skillful than his sister in hiding her misgivings beneath a well-modulated tone of voice. But Julian could feel the raw tension humming through the air between them. She’d had a shock, and she would need time to adjust to the idea of visitors. He frowned.

It was the first time since the accident that he didn’t find himself objecting to the prospect of guests at Crianlarich. The thought surprised him. Patience had given enough of his self-esteem and independence back that the idea of visitors to Crianlarich no longer troubled him. He smiled.

“I think you’ve procrastinated enough for one evening, Muireall MacTavish. Bed, young lady.” Laughter filled the air as Muireall’s chair scraped against the stone floor in a loud screech. A second later, his sister was standing at his side and bent to kiss his cheek.

“Good night, Julian,” she said.

Muireall’s hand squeezed his shoulder, before she moved around him to say good night to Patience. He turned his head and saw the shadows of the two women merge. A few seconds later, Muireall left the room. The silence that remained was dense with unspoken emotion. Patience’s apprehension was a palpable sensation throbbing off of her.

Julian pushed his chair back from the table and turned his head to where Patience was sitting. He frowned in puzzlement as he saw the sharp outline of Patience’s soft curves against the fuzzy, pale gray background that was his vision. The clarity of her shadow seemed crisper than usual. He dismissed the thought as he knew Mrs. Drummond had taken to increasing the lighting in the room to help him see the objects around him better in the evening. Julian grimaced as he tried to think of a way to broach the subject of Muireall’s party. Almost as if she could read his thoughts, a small sound escaped her.

“I don’t know if Muireall has mentioned it, but I’ve been visiting the nursery every day since you explained who Aiden was.”

Stunned, Julian’s jaw sagged at her comment leaving him unable to speak. The sound of her laughter made him recover from his amazement.

“What amuses you, woman,” he said with a grunt of annoyance, knowing full well she was laughing at his reaction.

“I never thought I’d see the day when my husband would find himself without words.” The fact she’d referred to him as her husband sent hope barreling through him.

“I am no’ speechless, Mistress Crianlarich.”

“No?” The word vibrated with amused disbelief.

“No,” he said emphatically as he glared in the direction of her voice. “But I will no’ deny being surprised at your interest in the child.”

“He’s not responsible for the circumstances of his birth.”

Something poignant threaded its way through Patience’s soft reply, and he winced. When Caitriona had left Aiden in his care, he’d hoped Patience would want to raise the boy as her own. But then things had gone from bad to worse where their marriage was concerned. That Patience was at Crianlarich at all was a small miracle in and of itself.

“Did you know Aiden has a mark on his leg, just like you?”

“No,” he said with an indifferent shrug. “It does no’ surprise me though. My father once told me that a great many of the MacTavish men in our family bear the mark including himself.”

“I see.” There was a note of puzzlement in her voice that made him frown.

“What do you see, Patience?” he asked coldly. Julian’s muscles tightened as he remembered how Patience had accused him of taking Una as his mistress.

“I was just thinking…” She sniffed with annoyed disgust. “Never mind, it’s a preposterous idea.”

“Are you looking for confirmation that I did no’ lie to you?” Julian did not bother to hide his bitter indignation.

“
No
,” she exclaimed in dismay. Patience leaned forward to touch his arm in a display of reassurance. “I was simply thinking that your father…”

“That my father what? Took Una to his bed?
Bloody hell
,” he muttered as he realized it was quite possible the old Crianlarich might have ruined not just Caitriona, but her sister as well.

“If it’s true, I doubt your father was completely at fault where either woman was concerned.”

“Do no’ make excuses for him,” Julian growled.

“I’m not, but we both know your father led Una to believe she would live here one day,” she said with a sigh. “Una just thought it would be as your wife.”

“Aye,” he said quietly. “But I did no’ want her, I chose an Englishwoman with all the fire and stubbornness of a true Stewart.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said with a dry note of amusement.

“It was meant as one,” he chuckled. “I’ve often thought you more a Stewart than a Rockwood.”

“Why do I think that’s more a commentary on my worst traits than on my family bloodline?”

“I think I shall retire for the evening before I find myself in hot water.” With a laugh, he rose to his feet. Following his lead, Patience rose from the chair as well.

“Would you like me to walk with you?” she asked quietly. As she had since she’d first arrived at Crianlarich, Patience gave him the option to ask for help. She never forced it on him.

“I would no’ object if you would lend me your arm,” he said with a smile.

In silence, she slipped her arm through his, and together they left the library. As they climbed the stairs, Julian enjoyed the quiet contentment that filled him just from being close to her. In the past three weeks, she’d captured even more of his soul than ever before. When they reached the top of the stairs and turned toward their bedrooms, Patience’s hand rubbed gently over his sleeve in a manner he could only describe as tender.

“I was thinking we might take Aiden out into the garden with us when we go on our afternoon walks.”

Her quiet suggestion stunned him almost as much as her earlier declaration that she’d been visiting the child for weeks. Abruptly coming to a halt, Julian turned his head toward her. Not for the first time, he longed to see her expression. What the devil had made her suggest such a thing?

“Take him with us?”

“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “He’s a happy little fellow, and I think he would enjoy the time outdoors.”

The lighthearted note of her reply made his lips twist in a slight smile. Her laughter would be one of the things he’d miss the most if she were to leave Crianlarich. Julian’s heart sank. If she left, life would become the same bleak hell it had been before she’d arrived. But what would it do to Aiden? Where would the lad be when she left? He cleared his throat then resumed the path toward his room with Patience’s arm still linked in his.

“Do you think it’s wise to continue visiting the child? The lad could become quite attached to you. If you left—”

“And if I chose to stay at Crianlarich? Do you think that would be a wise choice for the two of us?” she asked quietly. His heart slammed into his chest at her question.

“Are ye asking tae stay, Patience?” He heard the way his brogue thickened as his mouth went dry.

“I…I would like for us to consider the possibility of a reconciliation.”

Unable to reply to her proposition, he paced himself as he silently counted the feet to where his bedroom door was. She’d asked to stay. She’d offered them the chance to move out of the past and into the present. He suppressed the shout of happiness threatening to roll out of his throat.