Chapter Eight #2
But perhaps it was long enough.
“The meal was wonderful, ladies. Everything was perfect. Thank you for all your hard work,” his wife praised the kitchen maids. “Jane, did you have one of the maids get the laird’s chamber ready?”
“Aye. ’Tis ready for his high and mighty,” she said grumpily. “We heard what he did, casting you from your rightful place at his side for that worm. We should have put a rat in his bed since the new laird likes to keep company with them.”
“I hope you didn’t,” his wife said, a bit of scolding in her tone. Of anyone, he would have thought she would be willing to set beasties on him, but it was clear she didn’t stand for this.
“Of course not. The other girls talked me out of it.”
“Good. I’ll not have the housekeeper put in the dungeon when I need you.”
After a moment of silence, one of the other ladies spoke. “Well, lads, there are some tarts here to keep you fit for the night. Watch over the mistress.”
“Aye,” one of the younger warriors said. “We will.”
Ronan didn’t understand why his wife needed such formidable protection.
He backed away and returned to the hall to fall heavily into a seat near the fire.
His wife and her entourage left the kitchen.
Brenna paused briefly and nodded toward him before slipping up the stairs.
Would one of the soldiers who followed her enter her room for the night?
Anger surged once more at the thought of a man—or men—touching his wife while he’d been nothing but honorable all those years.
He stood, slower this time, and followed.
At the door to the room, he’d always called his own, the room he’d shared with her the night of their marriage, he heard his wife wish the warriors a good night.
The men murmured to one another and flipped a coin.
Ronan figured they were deciding who would take the first watch when one of them walked off, leaving the other guard who settled in, sitting in front of the door.
Why had his wife not moved to the more elaborate laird’s chamber? And why did she need to sleep with a guard posted outside her door? He considered going to the laird’s chamber, but curiosity kept him there as he heard the bar being settled on the door.
Was she afraid of him?
One thing was for certain—he would never learn the answers to his questions by sleeping in another room.
And he wouldn’t have his people thinking his wife had set him out of her chamber on his first night back.
As he made his way down the corridor, the warrior jumped to his feet and waited with his hand on the hilt of his dirk.
“Do ye plan to stick your laird on his first night home, lad?”
The young man removed his hand from the dirk and uneasily held his arms at his side.
“Nay, my laird. ’Tis a habit when I’m guarding the mistress.”
“What is your name?”
“Gabe, my laird.”
“And what danger requires a guard posted by her door?”
The man pressed his lips together and cast a glance over his shoulder.
“Will you not answer?”
He nodded once after a brief hesitation. “Aye. She said if ye were to ask, we would tell the truth.” He leaned a little closer and whispered, “She said we were to wait until you were ready to hear the truth. Are ye ready?”
Ronan was taken aback by the question but nodded. “Aye. I’m sure I am.”
“Ewan has been deviling the mistress for a time. I’m sorry to say he managed to get in her window.
Malcolm and I had to take an axe to the door.
” He nodded to the new wood that made up the door to his old room.
“She managed to cut him.” He motioned toward his face in the same area as the cut on Ewan’s face.
The injury she’d owned to giving him. “He choked her. She was defending herself, my laird.”
“And that is why she banished him?”
“Aye. We all said she had every right to hang the bugger for it. The auld laird had put her in charge. His orders were signed and witnessed. But she refused to kill your uncle for fear you might…”
“I might what?”
The lad had the cods to narrow his gaze on Ronan with anger. “She worried ye would hate her for it.” He raised a brow, clearly calling Ronan out for his behavior.
Ronan saw nothing in the man’s eyes to think he was lying. But if he weren’t, that would mean Ewan had lied to him. Such a thing had never happened in all the years they’d known each other. “I’d like to see my wife.”
The man’s eyes went wide. “Now?”
“Yes. It is common for men to sleep with their wives.”
Gabe swallowed loudly and looked toward the door before returning to Ronan with his shoulders back.
“I’m sorry, but I swore to the auld laird that I would protect the lady with my life, and I canna go back on it. It was his last order to me and my brother.”
“And you think I plan to harm her?” He didn’t know whether to be impressed by this warrior’s loyalty or toss him in the dungeon for questioning Ronan’s integrity.
“Ye made it clear you were unhappy to be in her company at the meal.”
The man fidgeted nervously but stood his ground. Meanwhile, Ronan worried his leg might soon give out while arguing with the boy. But the lad was right. He had not hidden his dislike for Brenna, though now he had many questions for his wife.
“I don’t make a habit of hurting women. You have my oath that I will not harm your mistress.
Let us see if she will admit me.” Ronan cocked a brow though he was unsure if Brenna would allow him to enter her chamber.
He didn’t know what he would do if she refused.
He’d never force himself on a woman. He only wanted to speak to her alone.
Gabe nodded and then knocked at the door. “My lady?” he called loudly. “Ye have a visitor.”
“Is someone ill?” Brenna called out.
“Nay,” the guard answered, though Ronan thought the man looked a bit pale.
“Then who is it?”
“Your husband,” Ronan said loudly and waited to be let into his wife’s chamber.