Chapter Eleven
Once again, Ronan was surprised by his wife. Not just for her beauty—yes, she was more lovely than the last time he’d seen her—but for her courage. After he’d treated her so poorly the night before, he expected her to be absent from the meal tonight.
He was glad he’d been wrong, for he’d found himself looking for glimpses of her throughout the day.
His uncle had also been absent, so Ronan could not question him about what had happened in the forest that morning.
But he would have his answers soon enough.
He sat next to Brenna, and she offered him a strained smile.
She acted like he might roar at her any moment, and he couldn’t blame her.
He needed to atone for his earlier behavior.
“You look lovely this evening,” he said, surprising her with a pretty blush. He noticed her hands on her lap, fingers clenched. Was she nervous or frightened?
“Thank you, my laird,” she whispered.
She said nothing else as the maids served the meal and poured their wine.
“The boy is settled,” she said, and at the same time, he said, “How is the boy?”
She smiled more easily this time, and her smile forced his grin. “Please, you first,” he insisted.
“He—Matthew is fine.”
He nodded. “Good. And how did you spend the rest of your day?”
She seemed frozen as she set her glass down. Did she think the question was a trap of some sort?
“I am only curious,” he said, unsure why he needed to assure her.
She gave a nod before speaking. “I spent the early morning hunting, and then the afternoon and the rest of the day, I helped the ladies in the kitchen when I wasn’t seeing to wee Matthew.
Geordie always teased me for working in the kitchen like a maid, but I like to be useful, and I enjoy their company.
They were the only friends I had here after… ”
She looked away, but he thought he knew what she’d meant to say.
She’d been alone in a new home with a new clan. An outsider. Could he not have spared a few days to settle her before leaving her there? What a selfish arse he’d been to run off on their wedding night as he had.
He’d been so eager to get to France and the glory of war. But there had been no glory. He’d not become a hero in France, and he’s undoubtedly not been Brenna’s hero in recent years.
He smiled and tried to think of something to say when the silence continued. She hadn’t said so much to him since he’d returned. He cursed himself again, for it was his fault she’d been wary to speak.
“You call my grandsire by his given name?” he asked because it wasn’t typical for the auld laird to allow such a thing.
“He allowed me to,” she answered quickly. His question had made her defensive. He wouldn’t forge a connection with his wife in this way.
“He must have held you in high regard. He allowed only a few such liberties.”
She pressed her lips together, and he wanted to hear the laugh she fought to hold in.
“What did I say?” he pressed.
“He didn’t permit me exactly. He was being cantankerous, and I just used it as a scold. You should have seen his face. He was so shocked. And then he burst out laughing. After that, we were thick as thieves, having faced each other down like wild cats.” Her smile faded.
“You miss him,” Ronan said, though it was apparent.
“Aye. I didn’t have a living grandfather, and my father was often vexed with me, but Geordie and I were very close. I often sat with him as he saw to business. He even asked my opinion on a few occasions.”
“My grandfather asked for your advice?” Ronan could hardly believe such a thing. The auld laird was so set in his ways that Ronan could scarcely believe he had room to hear anyone else’s thoughts but his own.
She nodded. “’Tis true. You can ask anyone if you don’t…” She didn’t finish the sentence; instead, she focused on her meal, but he knew what she didn’t say—If you don’t believe me.
Would this be how all their conversation would go?
She started to say something but stopped so as not to rouse him to anger.
He knew it was his doing but didn’t like it.
He didn’t know what to believe. If this was a tale, it served no purpose to get anything from him.
But he knew well enough a reason wasn’t strictly necessary for a lie.
Some people held no hold on the truth. He’d spent his life with a mother who plotted and schemed to get what she wanted through manipulation and deceit.
He’d come to expect it from all women, but he’d known there must be some who were not out for their gain.
He thought of Maria, Shane’s wife. She’d been faithful and steadfast. And Tory, his stepsister. She’d been a friend and always offered an ear when he needed to talk over a problem. In some ways, she probably knew him even better than Shane or had before they’d left for France.
Ronan decided to turn the topic to something else Brenna had said. “You hunt?” He’d seen her do so that morning. He didn’t realize it was a common thing. He did wonder why she would leave the keep without her guards when, even now, they watched her from their place in the back of the hall.
“Aye. I used to go with Geordie. He enjoyed it greatly, even if I always caught more than he.” Her fond smile had returned when she spoke of the old man.
Ronan realized she probably knew the man better than Ronan had.
With moving to the MacPhersons as a lad and then going off to war, he hadn’t been around his grandsire much as a grown man. And he’d missed his chance.
“I caught the rabbits in this stew,” she added proudly.
“And then you helped cook it? You don’t mind helping?” Ronan couldn’t imagine his mother stepping foot in the kitchen unless she was looking for someone to scold for something she disliked.
“I enjoy it. The women who work there are good friends.”
“The rest of the clan seems to like ye.”
She shrugged and glanced at the empty seat beside him.
The seat Ewan had occupied the night before.
Ronan wasn’t sure where his uncle was. He would worry about it another time, for now he was getting to know the woman he was married to.
Just as things were being cleared away, his wife looked toward the side door of the hall and let out an excited squeal.
“Tonight’s entertainment is my favorite. One of the mothers in the village teaches the children to sing. They are quite adorable.”
Another thing he had learned about his wife.
She liked children. He’d seen how she’d bent down to speak to them as she’d entered the hall with a bright smile.
And yet he’d left her childless all this time.
He had been selfish, not caring who he’d hurt to do what he wished.
In many ways, he was no better than his mother.
Deirdre never cared about those who were inconvenienced by her requests.
Shame flared on Ronan’s cheeks as the lute player strummed his instrument, and two women herded the children into somewhat of a line.
They began the first ditty about a boat. The group was sorely out of time and off-key, but Ronan understood why Brenna enjoyed it. For what the little ones lacked in talent they made up for in sheer exuberance.
His wife giggled, a slight sound of joy. When he looked over, she was squeezing her hands together at her chest as if overcome with happiness. Until she saw him watching her. She quickly straightened her posture and cleared her throat.
“They are quite excited,” he said.
“Yes. They have no care in how they sound. They are each being their own selves. How wonderful not to have such worries,” she said wistfully, and he remembered the girl galloping into the bailey on her monster horse with sticks in her hair and mud on her trews.
“I would clap if you sang with them,” he said.
She laughed and shook her head. “Nay. No one could clap with their hands covering their ears.”
She was witty, another thing he had forgotten about his wife.
Ronan found he was excited to learn everything about her, to know her as a husband should know his wife, and perhaps maybe even as a lover.
She was a bonny woman; once again, he found her even more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her.
His body stirred for her. It was not the usual ache he suffered when needing release; he wanted only her touch, her kiss.
Her body against his. He’d stubbornly held on to his vows because it was right.
But now he realized it was more than that.
He looked at her and wondered if what he saw was real or a facade crafted by a woman who traded in manipulations and lies. And a pretty smile and a twinkling eye could bring a man to his knees if he wasn’t careful.
***
Brenna couldn’t fathom the change in the man to her side.
Her husband had been horrid the night before until he’d joined her in their chamber.
Tonight, he was the doting husband, asking her questions as if he wanted to know her better and how she thought of things.
When he wasn’t asking questions outright, he was watching her, perhaps learning more of her in that way than she realized.
And all the while, she watched him as well.
When his attention was pulled in a different direction, she stole glances, taking in his straight white teeth and how his smile hinted at a bit of mischief.
But she wasn’t the only one watching the new laird. The warriors watched him with a narrowed gaze. And the serving maids cast alluring looks as they filled his cup more than necessary.
Brenna fought off the instinct to growl at them when they came near. She felt like a wild animal protecting its mate from intruders. How silly. She had no claim on him. Yes, they were married, but that meant little to him as he’d fled as soon as he’d had the chance.
Pushing away the bitter memories, she clapped loudly when the children finished and scattered to sit with their families, each accepting a hug and kiss from a proud parent.
“Thank you for your company this evening,” she said, wanting Ronan to know how much she preferred this treatment than that of the night before. “I believe I shall retire to bed.”
“I will join you. I fear despite sleeping late this morning, I’m still recovering from my journey.”
She nodded, silently communicating she welcomed him to join her. “Will you tell me about it?” she asked as she walked beside him to their chamber. Her guards hopped up from their seats as soon as she’d stood, but Ronan held up a hand to stay them.
Even at that order, they glanced at her for her approval.
She gave what she hoped was a subtle nod, letting them know she was okay. It wouldn’t do for the laird to see his men obey his wife over his orders. Silent or not.
As they entered the room, he was chatting about how flat the land was beyond the highlands.
She couldn’t imagine such a sight, having spent all her days surrounded by mountains and hills.
Having realized they were in the room alone, they both fell into a heavy silence.
Her earlier courage deserted her, and she could not look him in the eye.
How was she to change with him in the room? She could manage her gown but used the excuse of needing to call a maid, hoping he would give her that moment alone. Instead, he offered his aid. She couldn’t catch her breath as she shook her head. She couldn’t allow him to help her out of her clothes.
She remembered their only night together when he’d done just that.
Her cheeks went aflame as other memories came unbidden to her mind then.
His kisses. The way he’d nipped the flesh on her neck.
His rapid breaths near her ear and the other sounds he’d made.
The words he’d said that made her feel cherished. But it hadn’t been true.
As if icy loch water had been tossed on her, she remembered the chill of waking the next day alone and finding he’d left. The stares and cruel jokes. “She must have been a fright in his bed. She scared the laird’s heir clean to France.”
Standing tall with her indignation wrapped around her, she shook her head.
“I do not require assistance from you.” Her words sounded crisp and shrewish.
Good. Let him know she had no interest in him in that way.
She might be unable to keep him from taking his husbandly rights, whether he’d earned them or not, but she would make it clear she did not welcome his attentions.
The pain this man had caused her would never be forgotten nor forgiven. A few smiles and a bit of kindness could not erase the hurt.