Chapter Seventeen
Lachlan was bemused by his wife’s attempts
to ignore him throughout the nooning meal. Occasionally she threw
sour glances his way, but for the most part she dinna look at him,
much less converse with him. In truth, Catriona was carrying the
major bulk of the head table’s conversation. His sister excitedly
chattered on aboot her upcoming nuptials, her new shoes, and how
she’d had them dyed a pale blue to match the dress she would wear
to the ceremony. Victor hung on Catriona’s everra word, looking
verra much the besotted mon.
“You’ve but a sennight left afore you are
the Lady Banks, sister,” Lachlan said, purposely stretching and
using the action to put an arm behind his wife’s back. Veronica
glared at him, only further amusing him. “I hope you and Victor
find as much happiness as I have found with my lady wife.” That
proclamation made Veronica’s nostrils flare. He smiled to further
annoy her. “All and sundry should experience the wedded bliss I
share with my Veronica. Is that not so, wife?”
She forced a smile. “It’s like the bliss
never goes away. Unless it’s busy going places without me.”
His eyes glittered. She glared at him.
“How does one’s bliss go places without you,
dearest?” Moira inquired.
“What she means,” Victor quickly cut in, “is
the bliss is so vast it seeks out others. Like Catriona and
myself.”
His mother’s lips formed an O. “Well, isn’t
that wondrous!”
“Aye,” Lachlan said drolly. “Praise the
saints.”
*****
Veronica was spitting mad by the time a
small contingent of the party adjourned just outside their bedroom.
She jabbed a finger at Lachlan, then at Victor, Finn, and Ramsay
respectively. “Everyone inside,” she bit out. “I’m not playing
here.” After the group shuffled in, she shut the doors behind her
and whirled around to confront the odious men. “I’m going
tomorrow!” she said forcefully, careful to keep her voice as hushed
as possible. “If I have to fight every Gunn warrior to do so then
so be it!” She crossed her arms over her chest and repeatedly
tapped her foot on the floor.
“Wife—”
“That’s right,” she said, seething. “I’m
your wife, Lachlan. Not your fucking doll!”
Finn and Ramsay tried their best to mask
their amusement. She didn’t care what they thought. She was in no
mood to placate anybody.
“Nica,” Victor said in his most be
reasonable tone, “I don’t know what we’re dealing with. If you
did manage to bring the DR-71 virus back through time then we need
to eradicate it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Have you ever even
been in close proximity to someone stricken with DR-71, Victor?
Much less an actual eater?”
“Mom and dad—”
“Mom and dad passed away before the dead
started coming back to life.”
“I passed a few eaters on my way to the
docks,” he said defensively.
“So…no.” She splayed her hands. “I’ve seen
it all. From the fever to death to reanimation and so on.”
Victor hesitated. “She has a point,” he
finally said, looking at Lachlan. “I’m sorry, but she does.”
Veronica glanced at her faux leather satchel
in the corner. “And I can end them before the horror begins.”
“Nobody is ending anybody!” Lachlan growled.
“Wife, you dinna ken this fever is the same as your future one
yet.”
“And I can’t know without seeing one of
their sick.”
“What if you catch the fever from being near
to them?”
“What if you do?” she countered. She next
threw a hand toward Finn and Ramsay. “Or them?”
She could tell Lachlan was about to erupt
for she knew the warning signs by now. Victor broke up the would-be
argument, his hands going to his hips. “Nobody is going to catch
it,” he promised. “We’ll cover our faces before entering Campbell
land.”
“With what?” Lachlan asked.
“Why?” This from Finn. The polar opposite in
looks from the blond-haired, blue-eyed Ramsay, Lachlan’s number one
warrior was dark-haired and dark-eyed like his laird. “Why cover
our faces?”
“The sickness initially spreads through
sneezing, coughing, and close contact. Do you have a plaid we could
cut up and make thick strips from?” he asked Lachlan.
“Aye.”
“That will suffice. The material offers a
solid barrier. It’ll be somewhat difficult to breathe through, but
we’ll deal with it when the time comes.”
Lachlan looked fit to be tied. Veronica
likened him to a caged animal wanting to pounce. He cursed and
paced back and forth within the bedroom. After what felt like
forever, he stopped and glared at her. “Fine,” he bit out. “You may
come with us. But you are never to leave my side. Do you understand
and agree to this condition?”
She nodded, relieved. She wasn’t letting her
brother venture into the unknown without her. Nor was she letting
her over-protective, aggravating husband do it either. “I
promise.”
*****
Veronica had assumed after the morning
they’d shared in the bath that Lachlan would wish to consummate
tonight, but after stripping himself of all clothing and crawling
into bed, he gave her his muscular, battle-scarred back. He was
apparently still upset that she insisted upon accompanying him to
the Campbells in the morning. She supposed she should have felt
relieved she’d been given another reprieve from the consummation,
but all she felt was emptiness.
Yes, Lachlan had definitely gotten to her.
There was no question about it now.
Flipping onto her side, she didn’t say a
word as she laid back to back against her giant of a husband. She
didn’t like having bad blood between them, but she couldn’t in good
conscience send them on their merry way to the Campbell’s holding
tomorrow either. They’d be riding into the potential situation
naked whether they realized it or not. She’d wear one of her damn
gowns to try and blend in, but beneath it would be her
Matrix suit. She was taking no chances. Not with her life,
not with Victor’s, not with Finn and Ramsay’s. But especially, she
admitted to herself, not with Lachlan’s.
He meant something to her, damn it. The
exasperating man had gotten under her skin. There was no sense in
pretending otherwise anymore.
*****
Lachlan could feel his wife’s backside up
against his, her faint snoring giving away the fact she was deep in
slumber. ‘Twas just as well. His cock was harder than a steel sword
and no less forgiving. The ride to Campbell land on the morrow
would be grueling for her. The last thing his wife needed was to be
tender from him having rutted inside her for the whole of the eve.
Unfortunately, that knowledge made his current condition no less
painful.
He dinna want her to go with him, but
Veronica and Victor’s arguments had been too persuasive to ignore.
Lachlan had no real understanding of the future virus or how to
detect it. From the sound of the siblings’ earlier argument,
neither did Victor. Only his wife would ken what ‘twas they were
dealing with.
Lachlan had been left with no choice but to
give Veronica his aye. That dinna mean he had to have a care for
it.
When he had told her this morn that he loved
her, his words had been true. By the saints, he’d loved her afore
she knew aught of his existence. Being near to her in the flesh,
touching her, conversing with her, holding her in the eves when the
nightmares plagued her…
Aye, he loved her. Desperately and mayhap
foolishly. What if she never came to love him back?
He let out a sigh. ‘Twas a depressing
thought indeed and one he best not dwell upon. Forcing himself to
close his eyes, it took nigh unto forever to fall asleep.