Chapter Seven #4
Conor closed the solar door with a thump behind him, comforted to see Laurel was already in his chambers and nearly ready for bed.
They each had a room to dress and another for private meetings, but the solar—the highest room of the Star Tower—was where the McTiernay laird had slept in the castle since it was erected.
And here was where he held Laurel at night, regardless of the day’s events and fights, whenever they were home.
Laurel smiled at him but continued to brush her hair.
Conor loved it when it was down, free of its plaits, pins, and ribbons.
The fire caught the strawberry highlights, making the pale-gold tresses shimmer with each stroke.
It was enough to make him want to forget about dinner and the discussion waiting before them, and go and claim her in a kiss that would lead to activities that needed no words.
And he might have, if Laurel was not wearing her robe.
That robe had become a sign from early on in their marriage that she intended for them to talk before they slept.
And tonight was one of the rare times he was not going to try and persuade her to think of other, more carnal things.
“How are you feeling?” Conor asked before leaning down to give Laurel a soft but loving peck on her cheek.
“Remarkably well.” Laurel laid her brush on the table and turned to give him a more thorough kiss.
Conor obliged and claimed Laurel’s mouth, tangling his tongue with hers as he clasped the back of her head, holding her immobile.
Kissing her never got old and never failed to make him instantly crave her body.
And he knew Laurel felt the same as she succumbed to his embrace.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and let his tongue probe the warmth of her mouth, moaning as he deepened the kiss.
They clung to each other for several minutes before Conor slowly pulled away. “I would say you do feel well.”
“I have not been sick in days, and my energy is finally returning. Hagatha thinks the worst has finally passed.”
Conor gave her a quick kiss on her nose before breaking away to undress.
It was early and he was not remotely sleepy.
Neither was his wife, it seemed. He barred the door to make sure they would not be interrupted and then began to free his belt, hoping to make this conversation even quicker than he had planned.
“So dinner,” he prompted. “What was all that nonsense? Were Brenna and Bonny right about Conan, Mhàiri, and all that stuff about tricking the other?”
Laurel stood up and went over to her side of their bed. “As I was not there, I cannot say for certain, but we have very bright daughters, so you can probably assume what they told you was correct.”
Belt off, Conor grabbed his loose kilt and flung it so that it draped over a hearth chair. “So then tonight’s goal was to interfere with whatever might be growing between Conan and Mhàiri.”
Laurel reached for the cover to pull it down and paused. “You noticed?”
“You interfering?” He looked up and gave her a roguish grin. “Aye. I noticed.”
Laurel was tempted to throw a pillow at him, but she yanked on the belt of her robe. “I meant about Conan and Mhàiri.”
Conor came to the bed. “Men don’t talk only about weapons and war.
We sometimes take time to discuss the mysteries of women,” he said with a mischievous wink as he got under the covers.
He leaned back against the headboard and tapped the blanket beside him.
“Finn tells me that Conan has spent many an afternoon with Mhàiri, and according to his spies, they have not fought once, that is until this morning.”
Laurel’s brows furrowed as she shimmied out of her robe to crawl into bed next to Conor. “Finn’s spies?” she asked, placing her cheek on her husband’s chest. “Seems a lot of people have been interested in those two.”
“Finn and I were less interested and more wary. Word is that Mhàiri’s father is not just a merchant, but according to Colin, a very wealthy and well-respected man in the Lowlands.
He may not have an army, but it would not be good for him to arrive to a sticky situation.
While I love Conan, his past relationships with women have never ended well. ”
“Nay, they have not,” Laurel agreed, playing with his chest hairs.
“And yet the first woman Conan not only gets along with but respects, you don’t like.”
Laurel pushed herself up at the accusation and looked down into Conor’s smoky gray eyes. “That is not true. I like Mhàiri a lot.”
“Then why are you not doing what you always do?” he asked, gently caressing her cheek. “Meddling in their affairs and being a matchmaker, instead of the other way around.”
Laurel let go a soft hrmph and laid back down. “Right now, the last thing those two need is a matchmaker.”
“So is it that you do not think my brother is good enough for Mhàiri?”
Laurel blew out a breath. “I would not say that exactly.”
“Then what would you say—exactly?”
Laurel gave him a playful tap. “You make it sound sinister when it is just the opposite. Those two were going down a path that would lead to heartache. They needed someone to stop them from making an enduring mistake.”
“Why would it be a mistake? Mhàiri must be very smart, for I cannot see him willingly spending hours with someone who was merely pretty. And, by some miracle, they get along. With the exception of Bonny, Conan is not overly fond of your gender, my love. Even you wear on his nerves at times.”
Laurel let go a soft snort. “He wears on mine as well.”
“That’s my point. Both of them sought each other’s company time and time again.
And I think Mhàiri is good for Conan. I can’t remember the last time I heard his tongue wag about the trials of being forced to deal with tedious servants, witless clanswomen, or ignorant soldiers.
And there was this morning,” Conor said, tapping her arm to emphasize his point.
“He actually argued back instead of walking away. And from what I heard, Mhàiri was not in the least afraid when he began to yell. She supposedly shouted back. Now you know what happens when couples fight like that, love.”
Laurel slowly began to draw circles, forgetting what that always led to.
“They make up, but Conan and Mhàiri are not a couple. And what’s more, they do not see themselves as a couple, not now or in the future.
And you and I might have denied saying our feelings aloud, but deep down we both wanted to be with each other almost from the moment we met. ”
“I would have thought spending more time together would fix that. Not create a fight.”
“Mhàiri is young and inexperienced, and Conan has been focused for so long on only one thing—leaving.” She took a deep breath and sighed once more.
“Both think they see their futures clearly, and neither have considered including the other in them. And I have no doubt that Mhàiri will get hurt if she falls for him first.”
Conor pulled back and waited until Laurel tilted her head to look at him. “First?”
Laurel nodded. “I don’t know if they are destined for each other, at least not like your brothers.
But I do know that if I had not stopped their foolish plans to trick the other before it really got started, they would not have one.
” She laid her head back down. “Neither of them knows what they want when it comes to love. They’ve never considered the idea of falling in love, and now that they have met someone who might indeed be their soul mate, neither seems to realize they may need to change their vision of the future, let alone being willing to do it. ”
“How do you know that? Perhaps given more time together they would. It took me time to adjust, same as it did for Colin, and look at Craig. Remember, he resisted Meriel for quite a long while.”
“Now look who is trying to play the matchmaker.”
Conor did not deny it. “I worry about Conan going off alone. Not physically, but I’ve already lost Clyde, I fear. I do not want to lose Conan as well. He may be comfortable being by himself, but that doesn’t mean he does not need someone.”
“We all do,” Laurel agreed. “And if Mhàiri and Conan are right for each other, then they will find their way. Now they at least have a chance.”
“A good fight can help clear misunderstandings. I only hope it wasn’t betrayal I saw on both Conan and Mhàiri’s faces. That is not easily overcome.”
Laurel rolled over on top of Conor. Her tummy was seriously starting to show, and soon she would not be able to do so.
She gazed into his gray eyes. “You know that love is not the only necessary ingredient to a happy marriage. Honesty is just as important. And now Mhàiri and Conan are no longer pretending.”
“Pretending to like each other?”
“Pretending they only felt friendship—her pretending to be interested in others and him pretending not to be jealous. Those two treasure brutal honesty, and both were being dishonest, not just with each other but themselves.”
Conor gave her a quick kiss. “So tonight was about forcing them to be honest with each other. That’s a good thing.”
Laurel nodded and returned his kiss with a sweet one of her own. “And once they are, it’s possible they will fall in love,” she said, her voice low and dubious.
Conor sighed and flopped his head back on the pillows. “You are confusing me again, woman. I thought we just agreed that it would be better if Conan was not alone and, to do that, they needed to be honest and fall in love.”
“Aye, but is love going to be enough for Conan to include Mhàiri into his future?”
Conor gave her a light squeeze. “Then it will be his loss because if he knew how good it feels to have a woman who loves him in his arms every night, Father Lanaghly would be preparing for a wedding.”