Chapter Twenty-Four #4
The coolness of the answer irritated him enough that Bram threw aside the coverlet and rose to retrieve his own clothing.
“Dinna stand there and tell me it signifies naught.”
“I didn’t say it meant nothing.” She snatched up another garment. “I said it doesn’t change anything between us.”
“Those are verra nearly the same words,” he snapped.
“No, they aren’t.”
Bram hauled on his braies with a violence that nearly tore the worn linen. “Then explain the distinction.”
Anna turned her back upon him as she dressed.
“Last night happened because we wanted it to happen. I don’t regret it, but we still have the same problems we had yesterday.
I’m still from a time you aren’t convinced exists, and you rather pointedly informed me that you’ve kissed plenty of women before me, so I’m not sure why you think what we did last night suddenly makes me special.
Sleeping together didn’t magically solve any of that. ”
“Bluidy hell.” Bram reached for his tunic, hating that she had thrown those words back at him, and hating more that he’d ever spoken them. “It changes matters considerably, Anastasia. I have responsibilities toward ye now.”
She turned slowly. “Responsibilities?”
“Aye. I have lain with ye. I willna simply carry on as though—”
“Oh, God.”
Bram frowned. “What?”
“Nothing. Please, continue. This is awesome.”
He dragged his tunic over his head, increasingly irritated by her tone. “We will be wed, Anastasia.”
She went still on the opposite side of the bed.
“You want to marry me?” Her voice had gone strangely small.
“Aye.”
Something in her expression changed, a flicker of sudden vulnerability that disappeared almost before he could examine it.
“Why?”
“I am honor bound to do so after what we shared last night.”
Her face fell. “So you don’t want to marry me?”
“I have just said that I do,” he ground out.
“No. You said you feel honor bound to marry me.”
“I am.”
She gave a short, incredulous laugh and reached for her gown. “You don’t have to marry me because we had sex.”
His jaw hardened. “I willna take a woman to my bed and afterward disclaim all responsibility for her.”
Anastasia winced. “Wow. You somehow made it worse.”
“How in God’s name is that worse?”
“Because I don’t want to be your responsibility!” She dragged her gown into place with an angry jerk.
“Ye would rather I behaved dishonorably?”
“Those aren’t my only choices!”
“Then what choices are there?”
She stared at him as though the answer ought to have been obvious, and then she sat on the edge of her small bed and pulled on her hose.
Bram stared back, increasingly vexed that she expected him to solve some riddle she refused to state plainly.
“Do you even hear yourself?” she finally asked. “That is the most god-awful proposal I’ve ever received.”
Bram’s temper flared. “Have ye received so many?”
“Well, no. That’s my first,” she confessed, yanking on her short boots. “But it was... God, Bram, it was terrible.”
“I dinna ken how to do it better!”
“Of course you do. You just don’t want to say any of the things that would make it better, or I don’t know, you feel it would make you vulnerable to admit that you have feelings for me.”
“I do have feelings,” he clipped. “They’re bluidy rushing through my body at this very moment.”
Anna’s throat worked once as she met his saddened gaze. “Let me know when they reach your heart,” she said, turning for the door. She paused on the threshold to look back at him. “Be safe, Bram.”
The blast of the horn sounded before he could answer.
One hand on the buckle of his sword belt, Bram went still and listened as the long note rang across Craig na Coille. A second followed before the first fully faded, and whatever remained of the argument disappeared beneath instincts honed over too many years of war.
He finished fastening the belt and crossed the chamber, snatching up his boots on the way. Anastasia had already reached for the latch.
“Nae.” Bram moved past her and put his hand upon the door before she could open it. “Ye remain within.”
“Bram—”
“Anastasia.” He looked down at her. “Ye stay inside the keep until I ken what the horn announces.”
She looked as though she might argue, but whatever she saw in his face changed her mind. “All right.”
Bram opened the door, then stopped.
He might have left it at that. The sounds of people already stirring in the great hall below and the distant calls from the yard pulled at him; his every soldier’s instinct screamed to go down, to assess the threat.
Yet her face stayed with him—the brief, unguarded moment before she’d looked away, and the quiet devastation in her gaze.
He turned back, caught her face between his hands and kissed her firmly.
It was no apology, nor did Bram imagine it settled anything between them. He hadn’t the time to find the words that had eluded him moments ago, but neither could he leave her believing he considered the matter settled.
He lifted his mouth from hers. “We are nae finished with this.” He kissed her once more, swiftly this time, and released her. “Stay within.”
And he left.