Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“What if he would have preferred her?”
The words escaped Iris’ lips before she could stop them, echoing in the quiet library. She sat curled in the window seat, a book forgotten in her lap, her mind spinning with thoughts of last night.
Elijah’s hands on her skin. His mouth claiming hers. The way he’d whispered that she was beautiful, that he was glad he’d married her instead of Lydia.
But what if he was wrong? What if he’d only said those things because Lydia wasn’t there to compare?
She’s prettier than me. Everyone kens it.
The thought made her chest tight with an unfamiliar ache. Lydia with her delicate features, her gentle manner, her effortless grace. If Elijah had seen them side by side, would he still have chosen Iris?
Why am I even thinkin’ about this?
But she knew why. For the first time in her life, she had something her sister didn’t.
A husband who looked at her with desire, who touched her like she was precious.
And now, she was terrified that it was all a mistake, that if given the choice, any man would prefer Lydia’s soft beauty over Iris’ sharp edges.
The jealousy hit her like a fist to the stomach.
She’d never felt this way about her sister before, had always accepted that Lydia was the pretty one, the favored one.
But now, sitting here with the memory of Elijah’s touch still burning on her skin, she found herself resenting her twin for the first time in her life.
I need to talk to someone. I’m goin’ mad.
She stood abruptly, the book tumbling to the floor. Aliana would understand. She needed to talk to Aliana.
But before she could reach the door, a young maid appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath.
“Me lady, ye have a visitor.”
Iris paused, confused. “A visitor? Who?”
“She wouldnae give her name, me lady. Just said she was an old friend and that ye’d want to see her.” The girl shifted nervously. “She’s waitin’ in the reception hall.”
“An old friend?” Iris frowned. She didn’t know anyone in Scotland besides her family.
Her heart leaped with sudden hope. “Take me to her. Now.”
She followed the maid through the castle corridors, her earlier confusion momentarily forgotten. When she entered the reception hall and saw who was waiting, she couldn’t contain her joy.
“Mairie!”
“Me lady!”
The two women flew toward each other, meeting in the middle of the room in a fierce embrace. Iris felt tears prick her eyes as she held her oldest friend close.
“What are ye doin' here?” Iris pulled back to look at Mairie’s familiar face. “How did ye… I daenae understand!”
Mairie’s grin was pure mischief. “Well, it’s quite simple really. I made sure yer parents fired me.”
“Ye what?”
“Oh, it wasnae difficult.” Mairie’s eyes sparkled. “I may have ‘accidentally’ ruined one of yer maither’s favorite gowns. And then ‘forgotten’ to prepare her bath water at the proper temperature. And possibly told yer da that his new doublet made him look like an overstuffed partridge.”
“Mairie!” Iris couldn’t help laughing despite her shock. “Ye dinnae!”
“I did. Three days of spectacular incompetence, and they couldnae wait to be rid of me.” Mairie squeezed her hands. “I wasnae about to let ye face this new life without me, Iris. Nae after everythin’ we’ve been through together.”
“But how did ye even get here? It’s a two-day journey at least.”
“Hitched a ride with a merchant caravan headin’ north. Cost me most of me savin’s, but I managed.” Mairie’s expression grew more serious. “Iris, I came to ask ye somethin’. Will ye hire me as yer personal maid?”
“Hire ye?” Iris stared at her. “Of course, I’ll hire ye! I’ve been missin’ ye somethin’ fierce!”
“Truly?”
“Truly.” Iris pulled her into another embrace. “I’ll speak to Elijah about it today. I’m certain he’ll agree.”
“Elijah, is it?” Mairie pulled back with a knowing look. “Nae ‘the laird’ or ‘me husband’ but Elijah?”
Heat flooded Iris’ cheeks. “Well, he is me husband.”
“Aye, and how is married life treatin’ ye?” Mairie’s grin turned teasing. “From the look on yer face, I’d say it’s treatin’ ye rather well.”
“I daenae ken what ye mean.”
“Daenae ye? Because ye’re blushin’ like a maiden who’s just been thoroughly kissed. Or perhaps...” Mairie’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh me. It’s more than kissin’, isnae it?”
“Mairie!” Iris’s face was burning now. “It’s nae like that!”
“Isnae it? Then why can ye barely look me in the eye?” Mairie linked their arms together, steering her toward a settee. “Come now, tell me everythin’. What’s he like? Is he handsome? Does he treat ye well?”
“Stop!” Iris buried her face in her hands. “Ye’re embarrassin’ me!”
“I’m yer oldest friend, Iris. Who else are ye goin’ to talk to about this?” Mairie’s voice softened. “Truly, how are things between ye and yer husband?”
Iris was quiet for a long moment then sighed. “I daenae ken. That’s the problem, I just daenae ken.”
“What do ye mean?”
“I mean...” Iris dropped her hands, staring at the floor. “Last night, he... we... he said things, did things, and I daenae ken if he meant them or if he was just bein’ kind.”
“What kind of things?”
“He said he was glad he married me instead of Lydia. That he would have been bored with her. That I’m beautiful.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “But what if he’s wrong, Mairie? What if he only thinks that because he hasnae seen Lydia? She’s so much prettier than me.”
“Stop.” Mairie’s voice was firm. “Stop right there.”
“But it’s true.”
“It’s nae true, and ye ken it. Or ye should ken it.” Mairie took both of Iris’s hands in hers. “Listen to me. Yer sister is beautiful, aye. But so are ye. Just in a different way.”
“That’s what people say when someone isnae actually pretty.”
“That’s what people say when someone is too blind to see their own worth.” Mairie squeezed her hands. “Did yer husband seem to be lyin’ when he said these things?”
“Nay.”
“Did he look at ye with disgust or disappointment?”
“Nay, he looked...” Iris felt her cheeks heat again. “He looked at me like... like he wanted me.”
“Then why are ye questionin’ it?”
“Because I’ve never had that before!” The words burst out of her, raw and honest. “Malcolm never looked at me like that. Me parents never made me feel wanted. And now, Elijah says all these things, and I daenae ken how to believe them because what if it’s all a mistake?
What if he realizes he made the wrong choice? ”
Mairie was quiet for a moment, studying her face. “Ye’re fallin’ for him.”
“What? Nay.”
“Ye are. That’s why ye’re so scared. Because if he doesnae really want ye, it’ll break yer heart.” Mairie’s voice was gentle. “Iris, that’s nae a bad thing. That’s what marriage is supposed to be.”
“But what if—”
“What if he does want ye? What if everythin’ he said was true?” Mairie leaned forward. “What if, instead of questionin’ his every word, ye just... let yerself be happy?”
Iris stared at her friend, the words settling into her chest like stones. “I daenae ken how.”
“Then learn. Because from what ye’re tellin’ me, ye have a husband who desires ye, who chooses ye over yer supposedly perfect sister, and who makes ye feel things ye’ve never felt before.” Mairie’s smile was knowing. “That’s nae somethin’ to run from, Iris. That’s somethin’ to hold onto.”
Iris shook her head, pulling her hands away. “But what if I’m wrong? What if I’m readin’ too much into it? Malcolm said he cared for me too, and look how that turned out.”
“Malcolm was a lyin’, cheatin’ bastard who wasnae worth the mud on yer boots,” Mairie said flatly. “Yer husband is nae Malcolm.”
“How do ye ken? Ye havenae even met him properly yet.”
Mairie’s voice softened. “Iris, I watched ye throw away five years with Malcolm because he dinnae respect ye. Daenae throw away what could be a lifetime of happiness with Elijah because ye’re too afraid to take a chance.”
“But what about Lydia?”
“Lydia is Lydia, and ye are ye. Stop comparin’ yerself to her.
Ye’re both beautiful in different ways, but more importantly, ye’re both different people with different strengths.
” Mairie gripped her shoulders. “Do ye really think a man like Elijah Craig would have said those things to ye if he dinnae mean them? A man that powerful, that important, he doesnae need to flatter anyone. If he said ye’re beautiful, it’s because he believes it. ”
Iris wanted to argue, but the logic was sound. Elijah had no reason to lie to her, no reason to say things he didn’t mean. He wasn’t trying to secure a betrothal or win her favor; she was already his wife.
Iris was quiet, letting the words sink in. “When did ye get so wise about marriage?”
“I’m nae wise about marriage; I’ve never been married meself. But I am wise about ye.” Mairie squeezed her hands again. “Ye’ve spent yer whole life believin’ ye werenae good enough. Maybe it’s time to start believin’ ye are.”
“I daenae ken if I can.”
“Then fake it until ye do. That’s what confidence is, really, pretendin’ ye believe in yerself until one day ye realize ye actually do.”
“But I feel so awkward around him now. Like I daenae ken what to say or how to act.”
"Come on," Mairie said, standing and brushing off her skirts. "Ye need to stop broodin' and do somethin' with all this pent-up frustration."
"Like what?"
"Like throwin' knives. Ye always said it helped ye think clearly." Mairie's eyes sparkled. "Besides, I want to see if ye're as good as ye claim."
Twenty minutes later, they stood in a quiet corner of the practice yard, well away from where the men were training. Iris pulled her knife from its hidden sheath, the familiar weight of it grounding her.
"See that post there?" She pointed to a wooden support about fifteen feet away. "Watch."
The knife flew from her hand, embedding itself dead center with a satisfying thunk.
"Again," Mairie encouraged.
Iris threw again. And again. Each throw released some of the anger and hurt coiled in her chest. With each blade that hit its mark, she felt a little more like herself—strong, capable, not the rejected wife Elijah had made her feel like.
"Better?" Mairie asked after the sixth throw.
"Aye." Iris retrieved her knives, sliding them back into their sheaths. "Much better."
“Good. Now let me tell ye that the way ye feel is normal! Of course, things are goin’ to be awkward for a bit.” Mairie laughed. “But that will be fixed easily enough.”
“How?”
“By spendin’ time with him. By talkin’ to him about how ye feel. By lettin’ yerself believe that maybe, just maybe, ye deserve to be wanted.”
Iris felt some of the tightness in her chest ease. Maybe Mairie was right. Maybe instead of questioning Elijah’s every word, she should just... try to believe him.
But what if I let meself love him, and he changes his mind?
"But I feel so awkward around him now. Like I daenae ken what to say or how to act."
"That's normal! Of course, things are goin' to be awkward for a bit." Mairie laughed. "But that will be fixed easily enough."
"How?"
"By spendin' time with him. By talkin' to him about how ye feel. By lettin' yerself believe that maybe, just maybe, ye deserve to be wanted."
Iris felt some of the tightness in her chest ease. Maybe Mairie was right. Maybe instead of questioning Elijah's every word, she should just... try to believe him.
"And what about Codie?" Iris asked suddenly. "The boy clearly adores his faither, but Elijah keeps such distance from him. If I'm buildin' a life here, I need to understand why."
"Perhaps that's somethin' ye should ask the Laird himself," Mairie said gently. "But from what I've seen, that man loves his son fiercely. He just doesnae ken how to show it properly."
"Or he's afraid to show it."
"Aye, that too. Which is why he needs someone like ye—someone who's nae afraid to push him, to make him face what he's runnin' from."
But what if I let meself love him, and he changes his mind?
It was a risk she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to take.