Jeannie pressed her knuckles to her eyes. "Alex, what should I do? It's been a year and I feel I'm going mad."
"A year since what?"
"Since he kissed me. Oh, he acts cold and indifferent now. But a year ago he caught me in the hall and told me to stop swishing about in front of him or he'd do something I wouldn't like. So, of course, I dared him to—"
"Of course."
"And, oh, it was lovely and, and . . . It was so much! He said he'd been wanting me so long and he couldn't stand it anymore. But then he stopped. And now he will barely look at me. And I've loved him for years!"
"Oh, he looks at you. But when he sees you watching, he turns away."
Joy leapt to painful life in her chest. "Does he? He watches me?"
"Absolutely."
"Why do men have to be such idiots? Why will he not just go to my father? Or better yet, kidnap me?"
"Don't ask me, Jeannie. I had to seduce Collin to get him in my bed. Oops." She clapped a hand over her mouth. Her other hand wobbled the flask.
"Seduce him." She thought of Fergus's kisses, thought of the way his hands had shaped her waist and drawn fire up her back. "Seduction. That might be the way then."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea. Collin resents it, I think. He holds it against me."
"Hmm. I rather like the idea though. And Collin will get over it. Don't worry."
Alex rubbed her eyes and sighed before thrusting the flask back to Jeannie. "Take this. I'm feeling a bit mushy."
Jeannie tipped it up for the last swallow and made herself set Fergus and her fantasies aside. "Do not worry over Collin," she said. "He's never been in love before, Alex. He is trying to find his way."
"In love? I don't think that's it."
"Of course it is. Give him time. He's a man who's used to hard work and discipline. He's no doubt scared to death. You'll see. And our whisky's gone. Shall we rejoin the boys?"
"I suppose. I rather like your brothers' stories."
"Well, just wait till later then. Collin keeps almost as good a whisky as my father."
They giggled their way back through the door and into the keep to join the men below.
For once, the great hall seemed stifling to Collin. He could see that it was not—his wife and all their guests were gathered in chairs pulled close to the fire—but he felt hot and restless. He wanted to get out, to stalk through the door and into the cold night beyond, but he stayed. He would not leave his wife alone with these men who grinned and winked and brought out the pink in her cheeks. These friends of his.
Collin had never winked at a woman in his life, had never even known he should, but Alex seemed to enjoy it. She giggled and laughed and chastised them for their naughty stories. And Fergus . . . Oh, Fergus she watched carefully, for what, he had no idea, but he did not need to know to find it insufferable. They weren't discussing land use, after all.
Still, he insisted to himself, Fergus was his best friend and the Kirkland men he'd known his whole life. And Alex was his wife, of course. He couldn't leave that aside. But he felt always uncertain around her, never knowing what to say now mat they were man and wife. He did not know if he should discuss the horses with her and the business, or if he should turn over the finishing of the house to her. She responded with interest to everything he said, but she was so attentive that he did not know how to live with that either—a woman who awaited him every evening and seemed to want something which he couldn't provide.
Her eyes had grown wary over the weeks and, when she was quiet and didn't know he was near, she seemed smaller, deflated somehow. Perhaps she'd begun to realize that life as a farmer's wife was neither exciting nor glamorous. She'd been here three weeks and the Kirklands were the first visitors they'd had. And Collin had no idea how to entertain her, outside the bedchamber at least.
But Fergus—he seemed always to know what to say to her, how to make her smile or laugh or coo with interest. Fergus had become her friend—perhaps her best friend, and Alexandra was unmatched in her beauty and sensuality. Collin felt mad with suspicion, and only more mad to know it was unfounded. He trusted her. Surely he did. "Collin?"
"What?" He looked up to find Douglas Kirkland looking him over with a raised brow, while everyone else watched with amused expectance. Except Alex, who chewed her lip in discomfort.
"I asked how ye managed to escape being murdered by the duke."
His wife shrugged helplessly in his direction.
"The duke?" Collin felt his face darken.
"Well for God's sake, we're not so far in the wilds that we didn't hear the rumors. And why else would you two have married so quickly if not for scandal, Blackburn?"
"Oh, why else?" Collin growled back.
"It wasn't all that scandalous!" Alex's words came fast and too high. "Which is how he escaped being murdered, of course."
"We figured as much. Collin's well known for his upstanding behavior. God knows we never thought he'd be the one to steal a duke's bonny sister from beneath his nose."
The Kirkland men laughed uproariously, none noticing the look that passed between Collin and Alex. Collin nodded, glad they'd focused on him and not Alexandra. He tried to smile in her direction, but she had looked away already, still chewing her lip.
"Collin," James boomed into the now quiet room, "Will ye come take a look at my new mount? Damned if I can afford one of your get, but I think he's a fine one all the same."
He glanced at his wife to find her scooted forward in her seat to whisper secrets with Jeannie. Probably discussing the true story of the hasty courtship. He wondered what she'd told her new friend.
"Collin?"
"Aye. Let's go."
He made a conscious decision not to glance over his shoulder when he walked away. She would be here when he returned.
Chapter 18
She was missing, and where the hell had she gone? Collin glared over the room, probing dark corners with his eyes as if she might be crouched there like a hunting cat. He'd been gone not a half hour for God's sake, and thinking of her every moment and now she was missing. She and Fergus both. Only Jeannie and her brothers sat there— Jeannie in a snit over something and the men ignoring her.
Collin stalked into the kitchen without a word, anger already overriding his good sense. "Is my wife here?" Mrs. Cook and the two maids froze and frowned at him. There were no hidey-holes in the room after all. "Never mind."
He stalked back to the great hall, walking right past Jeannie's outstretched hand. He glanced toward the door, then toward the alcove of the stairway. Rebecca hung back in the shadows, one foot on the first step as she waved him over.
"Collin," she breathed, pulling him close. He tilted his head down, eyes straining up the stairs. "May I . . . ? I haven't known if I should speak of this . . ."
"What?"
"I do not think it appropriate that your lady should . . . Oh, I must hold my tongue."
"Speak, Rebecca." He was amazed that he could push the words out past the burning in his throat.
"It's just that I see them alone so often. I know they are friends, but they should not sneak off together like that."
"Sneak off?"
"I don't. . . Yes."
A smoldering fire flared to life in his chest. Oh, God. Let it not be so. His foot took the first step, and the other followed, though he tried to make it stop.
"No, not up there, Collin. Here." Her fingers made a hesitant motion toward the narrow door to her left. It had once led to a chapel and now led to nothing but a rubble-strewn portion of the yard. What business would anyone have there?
No business at all, some beast inside him crowed, but pleasure.
Collin jerked his head at Rebecca and she scurried up the stairs to disappear above. He wanted no witness to this mess. Bad enough if he had to see it.
His hand touched the door and flattened against the wood. Odd that he felt nothing beneath his fingers. The door swung open without a sound, revealing nothing but the trees beyond the yard and the stars above. Collin stepped to the threshold, hesitated.
A man's voice floated through the night. "No, Alex."
"But—"
"It canna be."
"Oh, Fergus. Why must you be so stubborn? I've seen you looking—"
"No!"
Footsteps crunched away, nearly running through the frozen grass. His wife cursed under her breath.
Collin reeled. I've seen you looking, she'd said. And hadn't she said that very thing to him? I've seen you watching me. Oh, and he had been. He had.
Please, God, this must be a misunderstanding. It must be. She was no harlot. She would not give herself to his best friend. She had been an innocent. A willing, loving woman, but an innocent nonetheless. But not innocent, that beast inside him sneered. A virgin, but not untouched.
He stepped out to the frozen ground, quiet and careful. He could see her in the moonlight, turned away and staring toward the stables. And then Collin could see her in that meadow where she'd first lain beneath him, urging him on as he'd pushed up her skirts, spitting mad when he would not take her. And he could see her on their wedding night, kneeling before him like a damned fantasy, taking his cock into her mouth with a purr of satisfaction. And even on the trail where they'd walked in the forest, her face so demure and timid. You 're far bigger than—Oh, she'd shut her pretty mouth then. Far bigger than who and how many, he should have asked.
"Collin!"
His name sounded jerked from her throat in surprise, but she walked toward him easily enough, a flash of white signaling her smile.
"What did you think of James's gelding?"
He could not crack open his jaw to answer.
"Fergus has gone home, so I hope you weren't looking for him."
"I was not," he growled, "but I found him all the same."
Her foot slid a little in the grass when she stopped. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, wife, that I was looking for you, and I found Fergus also."
"Oh, yes." Her hand rose to brush his sleeve, but it hovered in midair as if she could feel the rage radiating from his skin. "I wished to speak to him about. . . something."
"'Something.'"
"Um, is there something wrong, Collin?"
"I would say so, yes."
"What then?" The uncertainty had left her voice. Her words had gone clipped and short.
How dare she be irritated with him? "Do you think it is right that you steal out here with my manager and whisper in the dark?"
"I was not whispering."
His laughter sounded like metal against stone. She did not deny the sneaking out here, just the whispering. Very well, she hadn't really whispered. She'd pled.
"What is this about?"
"Well, let me ask you this. What was it that got you sent home from London?"
"I don't understand."
"What did my brother see when he opened that door on you and St. Claire?"
Her shadow drew itself up and stepped away from him. "Are you accusing me of. . . Do you think that Fergus. . . ?"
"I am only asking a simple question. I am curious as to your past. I spoke with two men in London who claimed to have kissed you, at least. I thought perhaps it was a hobby of yours. What else?"
"I. . . I did not kiss Fergus! I wouldn't even think it."
"No?"
"No! How can you ask such a thing?"
"Come now, Alexandra. You did much more than kiss St. Claire and he is no better than a dog."
"Collin, I am your wife." The sound of fear in her voice struck him like the snap of a whip. He stepped back from her, as if he stumbled from a dream. She had never spoken to him in fear. Never. He realized that his hands had gone numb with clenching.
"How could you think I'd be unfaithful to you? I've never . . . I've never given you a reason to hate me."
"Why were you hiding out here in the dark then?"
Her breath shuddered in her chest, just as he heard a curse behind him. "Jeannie?" Alex cried.
"Aye, sweeting." Jeannie's voice slid from goose-down to steel. "What the hell are you about, Blackburn?" She didn't brush past him so much as plow over him in her attempt to get to Alex.
"Come inside now, Alex, where it's warm. We'll leave your man here to cool down." Collin stepped aside to let them pass. "What did that beast say to ye, sweeting?"
The door closed behind them and Collin began to shiver. Was he a beast? Or was he the biggest fool in Scotland?
The wind, gusting and slapping against her face, burned tears into Alex's eyes as she waved farewell to Jeannie and the Kirkland brothers. She wished Jeannie would stay, wished she could hide behind her friend's anger forever.
Collin had slipped into bed late in the night, pretending that he believed her ruse of sleep. He'd slipped out this morning in the same manner, and had only just returned from his work to see their guests away.
The Kirkland carriage disappeared over the hill long before she dared to glance in his direction.
