Chapter 12
Boyd found Bella exactly where Mrs. Anders had said.
She was in the kitchens, her sleeves rolled up, her hands expertly kneading dough.
Her dark hair was pulled back in a simple braid, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face.
She was laughing at something Cook had said, her eyes bright, her smile genuine.
It was the first time Boyd had seen her smile since their wedding. The first time he'd seen her look anything other than carefully composed and heartbreakingly resigned. And damn him, he wanted her smiles directed only at him.
She was so achingly beautiful that Boyd's chest constricted painfully.
Cook noticed him first. "Laird!"
Bella's head snapped up. Her smile vanished instantly, replaced by that neutral expression that made Boyd want to punch someone. Preferably himself.
"Laird," she said quietly, immediately setting down the dough and wiping her hands on her apron. "Did ye need something?"
The formal distance in her voice stung worse than any blade.
"A word," Boyd managed, his voice rougher than he'd intended. "In private."
He saw the flash of apprehension in her eyes before she hid it. Saw the way her shoulders tensed. As if she were bracing herself for another blow.
"Of course." Bella nodded and moved toward Boyd, her head high, her spine straight.
Boyd stepped aside to let her pass, catching her scent that made his heart ache. He followed her into the corridor, acutely aware of the curious stares of the kitchen staff.
When they were alone Boyd cleared his throat. "I've had ye moved," he said abruptly. "To the chamber beside mine. In the main Keep."
Bella looked shocked. "I... I dinnae understand. The east wing is perfectly fine."
"No, it is not." Boyd's jaw clenched. "I was wrong."
The admission cost him, but he forced it out.
Bella stared at him blankly. "Wrong?"
"The east wing is not fit for anyone to live in let alone my wife," Boyd continued, his voice gruff. "The chimney is blocked and ye've had no fire for three days. The chambers are too cold, too isolated. Ye're my wife, and ye should be housed accordingly."
"I haven't complained—"
"Ye shouldn't have to!" The words came out harsher than Boyd intended. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Mrs. Anders told me she tried to bring ye more blankets and ye refused them. Why would ye do that?"
Bella's chin lifted with stubborn pride. "Because what I had was sufficient. I've lived with less."
"That's not the point!" Boyd's voice rose despite his best efforts to control it. "Ye're not a servant or a prisoner. Ye're the mistress of this Keep, and ye deserve better."
He saw something flicker in her eyes.
"Mrs. Anders is seeing to the move now," Boyd continued, forcing his voice to calm. "Yer new chambers will be warm and properly furnished. They're beside mine, which means ye'll be safe. Protected. Ye will also have guards with ye at all times."
"Guards?" Bella stiffened. "To keep me in?"
"To keep ye safe!" Boyd snapped, then immediately regretted his tone. He gentled his voice with effort. "I've arranged a rotation with Donahue. These are uncertain times, Bella. And ye're far too precious to be left unprotected."
Bella was silent for a long moment, studying his face. "Thank ye," she replied finally. "That's... very generous."
Boyd wanted to tell her that she deserved so much more. Wanted to apologize for the past three days. Wanted to lay his heart bare for her to see that despite everything, he was not a monster.
But the words stuck in his throat.
"Mrs. Anders is also arranging for new gowns," he added stiffly. "Proper clothing for the mistress of the Keep."
Something flickered in Bella's eyes. "That's not necessary."
"It is." Boyd's voice brooked no argument. "I'll not have people think I treat my wife like a bloody pauper."
Bella nodded slowly. "Very well. Thank ye, laird."
"For the last time, Bella, ye call me Boyd!" he corrected. "I am yer husband not yer laird!"
"Boyd," she repeated softly.
They stood in awkward silence, neither quite sure what to say next.
Finally, Bella asked, "Was there anything else?"
Boyd wanted to say so much more but instead he replied, "No. That is all."
Bella nodded and turned to go.
"Bella."
She paused, looking back at him with those intelligent eyes that saw far too much.
"The new chambers... they're comfortable. Ye'll be warm there."
It was perhaps the gentlest thing he'd said to her since their wedding. Judging by the way Bella's eyes widened, she knew it. "Thank ye," she whispered.
Then she was gone, disappearing back into the kitchens, leaving Boyd standing alone in the corridor with his thoughts in turmoil.
He'd meant to keep her at a distance. To make her suffer. To punish her for what he believed she'd done. Instead, he'd discovered that punishing Bella meant torturing himself.
Three days ago, he'd been so certain of his anger. Now, he wasn't certain of anything anymore.
***
LATER THAT EVENING, Boyd stood in his chamber, staring at the wall that separated his room from the chamber next door.
He could hear movement on the other side as servants prepared a warm bath for Bella.
When they had left and he heard the chamber door close, that's when he heard water splashing and began to imagine his beautiful wife, naked and soaking her glorious body by the roaring fireplace.
He closed his eyes when he heard a soft moan, no doubt the heated water was massaging her tired limbs.
Boyd was hard as a pike. He wanted nothing more than to open the adjoining door, strip down to nothing and join her in that bath.
Boyd groaned as his mind took over with sensual thoughts of him ravishing his wife, taking her with abandon.
He opened his eyes and shook his head. He needed to stop this.
Eventually there was nothing but silence next door as he imagined Bella toweling herself by the fire and enjoying its warmth.
That brought him satisfaction that he was finally providing for his wife in the manner she deserved.
But with it came a gnawing sense of dread, that having her so close was going to wreck him in other ways.
By moving Bella next door, he'd brought her close enough that only a wall separated their beds. Close enough that he wouldn't be able to ignore her presence. Wouldn't be able to resist the temptation she posed.
A knock at his door interrupted his spiraling thoughts.
"Enter."
Mrs. Anders stepped in, her face wreathed in smiles. "The mistress is settled. The chambers are warm, the bed is made, and she has everything she needs. I've also assigned one of the young maids to serve as her lady's maid beginning in the morn."
"Good. That's... good. Thank ye, Mrs. Anders for all ye've done." Boyd cleared his throat. "How is she?"
"Overwhelmed," Mrs. Anders replied gently. "She kept saying it was too much. That she did not deserve such luxury. But I could see the relief in her eyes when she felt the warmth of the fire. Though she tried to hide it."
Guilt twisted in Boyd's chest again. "Make sure she has extra blankets and hot stones for her bed."
"I'll see to everything," Mrs. Anders assured him. "Dinnae worry. The mistress will want for nothing."
After she left, Boyd moved to the window, staring out at the darkening landscape. He'd done the right thing, moving Bella to comfort and safety. He knew that. So why did it feel like he'd just made everything infinitely more complicated?
Boyd pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window and made a decision.
He needed some space to think away from the Keep.
Tomorrow, he would leave. There were clan matters that needed his attention in the western territories. Work that would take him away from MacKinnon Keep for at least a month.
It was the coward's way out, perhaps. Running from his own wife because he couldn't face what he was feeling.
But Boyd had never claimed to be brave when it came to Bella Sutherland.
He turned from the window and began making mental preparations for his departure. He'd leave at first light, before Bella woke. Before he had to confront the growing certainty that he was still hopelessly in love with his wife.
***
IN THE BLUE CHAMBER on the other side of the wall, Bella stood before the roaring fire, her hands extended toward the blessed warmth, and she tried not to cry.
The room was beautiful. Warm. Comfortable beyond anything she'd experienced in years.
Thick carpets covered the stone floor. Rich tapestries hung on the walls, keeping out the drafts. The bed was piled high with furs and blankets, and someone had even placed hot stones wrapped in cloth between the sheets.
It was everything she'd dreamed of and it frightened her.
Because this—this warmth, this comfort, this unexpected kindness from a man who'd made it clear he despised her—was more dangerous than any cold chamber.
Cold, she could endure. Isolation, she could survive. Cruelty, she'd learned to bear.
But kindness? Gentleness in Boyd's voice when he told her she'd be warm?
That could break her completely.
Bella pressed her hands to her chest, feeling her heart hammer beneath her palms.
She couldn't let herself hope. Couldn't let herself believe that this meant anything. Boyd had made his feelings clear that this marriage was a punishment unless she apologized for something she did not do.
The warm room changed nothing.
Then she remembered wise words spoken to her by the abbess. "Judge a man by his actions, not by his words."
Bella thought about that. It was true, Boyd's words were harsh whenever he dealt with her but his actions, though somewhat confusing, were not all bad.
Yes, the east wing chamber was cold and sparse, but Mrs. Anders and the servants had done what they could to make it liveable.
She'd also apologized for Boyd's actions saying he had been away for so many years and did not fathom the real extent of damage to the east wing until today.
When he saw it, he immediately rectified it.
So at least for now, Bella decided she would give him some grace, but she would not let it give her hope that someday they could move beyond to something more. That dream died years ago in a dusty tavern.
She climbed into the warm bed, pulled the furs up to her chin, and closed her eyes.
Tomorrow, she would wake and continue as she'd been doing. Keep her head down. Do her duties. Stay out of Boyd's way.
Even if he was now sleeping just on the other side of that wall.
Even if the thought of his proximity made her pulse race and her body ache with longing she had no right to feel.
***