Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Ailsa grazed her hand over the letter to Malric, staring down at the ink on the page and wondering if she should simply swallow her pride and send the damn thing already.
It had been a few hours since dinner, and she had waited in her chamber for Tavish to join her; perhaps, when she got him alone, he would be better able to explain to her what on earth was going on between him and that woman; the one who had appeared out of nowhere to invite herself into their home with no warning.
But, instead, she had been left tossing and turning alone, her head filled with more questions than she could make sense of, and she’d eventually risen to write a letter to Malric.
Malric MacCairn.
The one man that she knew would know more than she did. If something had happened in those years that intervened, then he would be able to tell her.
And it seemed that Riona was determined to usurp her from her position of comfort and stability in this place, no matter what it took. And Tavish, for his part, seemed to have plenty of secrets of his own.
What had happened to Callum?
What had his relationship been with Riona before he had married her?
What had happened with the MacCairns?
She could have asked him, of course, but she found herself convinced with the certainty that he would not give her a straight answer.
She sealed the letter, dripping wax from the nub of the candle that had survived the night and pressing the two edges of the paper together beneath it. In the morning, if she still didn’t have any answers, she would send it, trying to put right the doubts in her mind once and for all.
But it was only fair, she reasoned, that she give Tavish a chance to fill her in before she went behind his back. He had said he was going to his study to deal with some matters of the county. He must have still been there, perhaps poring over papers with a drink in his hand.
Her heart fluttered at the thought, despite the circumstances. Even amidst all of this frustration, there was still something about him that thrilled her, something that she knew she could not deny or ignore.
Rising to her feet, she smoothed out her dress and wiped some of the ink stains from her fingers. Riona would have long since retreated to her own chambers by now, and she was glad that she had finally gotten rid of the woman.
She wasn’t sure exactly what Riona was trying to do, given that she and Tavish were married already; surely, she must have known that he would not be so foolish as to cheat on his wife so soon after they had been wed?
It would have been the talk of the town, and his reputation as the cruel man everyone seemed to think him to be would be sealed in stone.
But, as she approached his study, her footsteps faltered when she heard laughter from within.
She slowed her pace, her heart sinking into her shoes as she reached the doorway of the study, and she peeped around to confirm what she already knew.
Riona was in there with him.
She had drawn her chair around to his side of the desk, her hand on his arm, leaning in so close that her hair was nearly grazing him too.
And he did not look like he was trying to put much distance between them either.
In fact, he was chuckling at something she had just said, shaking his head as if he was doing his best to dismiss some scandalous memory that she had brought up to him once more.
Ailsa felt ice coursing through her veins, a sick sensation clamping at the back of her throat as she took in the sight before her.
She could hardly believe what she was seeing, that he would have been so cruel to her as to spend time with Riona over her. He must have known that she was waiting for him, and yet, here he was, with this woman, laughing it up as though they were old friends.
Or maybe something more.
Riona seemed to notice the movement out of the corner of her eye, and she straightened up slightly to see Ailsa watching the two of them. She made sure to let her hand linger there a little longer than it had any reason to, and then, at last, she pulled back.
A smile curled up her lips, as sweet as it was sharp.
“Well, I was just going to bed,” she remarked, as Tavish looked over to see what had drawn her attention. “I wouldnae want to stand in the way of a husband and his… delicate wee wife.”
The words were clearly meant as a jab towards Ailsa, and it took everything she had not to fly for her as she made her way through the door and left. She knew that was what she wanted, for Ailsa to react in such a way that would make her look entirely mad.
If Ailsa were to give her such satisfaction, then she would stand no chance of looking like a reasonable woman in Tavish’ eyes, and that was the last thing she wanted.
Once Riona was gone, she made her way into the study, the air heavy with an icy silence.
“Ye’ve been with her before, haven’t ye?”
She hardly needed confirmation of the fact. The way Riona had spoken to him, the hints she had dropped about their relationship—it was obvious that they had shared more than just camaraderie over the years.
Tavish, thankfully, made no move to deny it. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to stand it if he had forced her to coax the matter from him.
“It is something of the past,” he confirmed, wrapping his hand around a cup of whiskey that sat on his desk.
Her chair was still sitting just a few inches away from him, and Ailsa could only imagine how easy it would have been for her to slip from her seat and into his lap; to pick up where the two of them had left off before the irritation of his wife had stood in the way of such a thing…
She took a deep, shaky breath.
“While I’ve been here, trying to understand ye…” she told him, speaking slowly, picking her words carefully, doing her best not to sound irrational or jealous.
She was sure that any hint of that on her part would be used against her by Riona if it got back to her, and she could not risk giving the woman any more in the way of ammunition against her.
“Ye’ve been sitting, drinking wi’ this woman? What, do ye feel you can be more honest wi’ her than ye can with me?”
“Ailsa, ‘tis not what ye think.”
“Did ye show her what you hide from me?” she demanded.
She didn’t even know if she wanted to hear the answer to that question, wasn’t sure if she would have been able to live with the truth, no matter what it turned out to be.
For so long, it felt like she had been trying to find out what kind of man she had married, only for that girl to come in here and sweet-talk him like it was her second nature.
Had she ever made him laugh like that?
If she had, it had long since faded in comparison to all the times she was sure she had frustrated him…
She snorted at his silence, trying to ignore the tears that were threatening to leak down her face.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” she remarked, shaking her head. “All this time, I’ve been doing what I can to know you, to get ye to see me as yer wife, but ye would rather be cavorting with—”
“Ye have no ken of the man I really am, Ailsa,” he snapped at her, rising to his feet suddenly, casting her to silence in an instant. “And if ye did—”
“And if I did, what then?” she demanded, challenging him.
She’d had enough of playing the sweet wife, she wanted answers, she wanted the truth.
She had no idea which version of him she was meant to take as real; the one who had held her in his arms that night they had given themselves to each other?
The one who had slaughtered her would-be attacker without a second thought?
The one who had taught her to track, to fight, to ride, and to defend herself against anything that the world might throw at her?
Or the one who seemed far more comfortable in the presence of a woman like Riona, a woman who insisted she knew more of him than she ever would?
He stalked towards her, his eyes darkening.
Her toes curled against the flagstone floor, but she did not move an inch.
She could not let him think that he scared her.
That was what he wanted, proof that she would never be able to keep up with him as a wife, that whatever lay beneath the surface was far too much for her to bear.
“Ye would run fer the hills, lass,” he told her, coming to a halt a few yards away from her.
Even at that distance, she could feel the heat crackling in the air between them, her hand tingling as she imagined taking his.
“Ye were to marry Callum,” he reminded her. “That’s the man ye were going to dedicate yer life to before he passed. Someone kind. Someone soft.”
“Ye think that I was ever in love with yer brother?” she retorted. “He was my friend, Tavish, nothing more than that. Our parents would have us married, but that was all there was to it. There was no passion there, no attraction, no—”
He caught her face in his hand, and she fell silent at once, his thumb skimming roughly over her lip like he was feeling the words as they came out of her mouth.
“No attraction, eh?” he remarked.
She couldn’t tell if she had offended him or not, speaking about his late brother in such terms, but she couldn’t pretend any different. If this was why he thought she couldn’t handle him, she had to prove him wrong.
She had to.
Her heart thudded against her ribs painfully, the pressure of his hand on her enough to make her head spin. But she did not yield, did not look away from him; did not let him fool himself into thinking that she could not handle herself in his presence.
“Not like the attraction we have for each other?” he pressed her, moving closer, close enough now that he could have kissed her if he wanted.
But he didn’t.
His eyes stayed fixed on her green ones, demanding an answer.
“N-no,” she finally managed to force out. “Not like that…”
And, with that, he kissed her.
It was not the soft, tender kiss she had known the other night, when they had consummated their marriage once and for all.
No, this was something insistent, something that left no room for argument.
His tongue grazed her mouth, and, when he pulled back, his eyes looked like smoldering coals staring back at her.
“Then ye can understand that not every dalliance is born from real passion,” he replied softly.
“Ye mean, ye and Riona…”
“I mean that whatever we had, it is nothing that can compare to what we share,” he promised her. “She was nothing more than a distraction to me. That’s still all she is. All she can be. Ye’re the one for me, Ailsa. I’ve known that as long as I’ve known ye.”
He kissed her again. And this time, she felt what little protest she might have had left sink from her, just like that. Because no man could have kissed her like that and not cared for her.
Riona had been here, practically climbing into his lap, and he still wanted Ailsa.
Ailsa pushed her hands into his hair, drawing him back just long enough that she could look into his eyes.
“Take me to bed,” she breathed to him, her voice catching in the back of her throat.
And, without another word, he leaned down and scooped her into his arms, carrying her towards their chambers together, all talk of another woman forgotten.
The outside world had ceased to be, and all that was left was the way that she felt in his arms.