Chapter 6 #2
“Nay. He’s a lucky bastard. Perhaps she’ll swive us once he’s through with her.
Her whoring type can never get enough.” Another man’s voice carried to her along with the laughter that followed.
But suddenly, Cairren was surrounded by silence.
She looked over her shoulder and caught sight of Padraig’s murderous glare.
For a moment she feared he directed it at her for causing a stir, but when he narrowed his eyes at a man standing beside Cairren, she realized he must have heard what she had.
“Rest assured, I don’t share what is mine,” Padraig growled.
What he heard disgusted him, but it mortified him that Cairren heard it too.
“You two have just earned yourselves a moon of mucking out the motte. Anyone who feels the need to voice similar opinions will find themselves knee deep in shite.”
Padraig wrapped his arm around Cairren’s shoulders and steered her toward the massive doors that led to the bailey.
He hadn’t trusted his clan not to harass, even harm, Cairren as she tried to leave the Great Hall.
He had been right not to. He never imagined he would hear such filth directed at a lady, and he was certain the men were aware she could hear.
He was sure that was exactly why they’d spoken.
They’d painted the gentle lady at his side as little more than a tavern whore.
Call it experience hard learned. Cairren’s words rang in Padraig’s ears, and he realized Cairren was far too familiar with the insults spewed around them.
As soon as the doors closed behind them, Cairren refused to budge. “You shouldn’t be out here. You need to go back inside.”
“Would you let me worry aboot myself for a while? I’m not a child.
I can choose for myself where I go and with whom I go.
” Padraig found himself pulling Cairren’s Kennedy plaid over her shoulders before he realized what he was doing.
He had a flash of an image of Cairren wrapped in a Munro plaid; Padraig was unsettled by how right it seemed. “It’s chilly.”
Cairren watched as Padraig turned away and proceeded down the steps, assuming she would follow, but she refused.
She would return to the Great Hall before anyone could claim they’d slipped away together.
The cool northern night air eased much of the tension between Cairren’s shoulders as she inhaled deeply.
She turned her face toward the stars and searched for her favorite constellations.
Her father often sailed and had taught her about how the stars were a navigation tool.
She oriented herself to the south, looking off into the distance as though she might spy Dunure all the way from the Highlands.
When Padraig returned to her side, she felt too depleted to reject the embrace he offered.
She rested her cheek against his chest. She began to relax but the memory of seeing him in the same position with Myrna only hours earlier had her reeling back, shaking her head.
“I’m not who you wish to be out here with.
I’m less than a poor substitute. I’ll go back inside.
” Cairren turned away, but Padraig grasped her arm.
Unlike the Armstrong representative who waylaid her at Stirling Castle, Padraig’s grip wasn’t punishing.
Just the opposite. It was gentle, and Cairren knew she could pull away, but she found she didn’t want to.
The fight had gone out of her, and she was suddenly too exhausted from the months of anxiousness, the interminable journey, and the open hostility.
She just wanted to climb into bed and close her eyes.
“How do you know who I want to be here with? Have you asked? Do I look like I want to be somewhere else?”
“You will when Myrna finds you.”
“Let me worry aboot that.” Padraig was firm.
Cairren’s laughter held no mirth. “You haven’t spent the past three years surviving the social politics of a hoard of young women who are mercilessly competitive. She may be displeased with you, but I will pay for this.”
“You don’t know Myrna. She’s not like that.” But even as he defended his beloved, Padraig feared Cairren was right.
“You defend the woman you love to the woman you’re marrying.” Cairren crossed her arms.
“I do love Myrna. I may not be able to offer you my heart, but I can offer you the protection of my name and fidelity.”
“That’s laughable at best.” Cairren’s lip curled. “Fidelity? You mean coming to my bed at night while spending your days, cow-eyed and lovestruck, with the woman you want. How long will that last? Just don’t seek me out when you smell of her.”
“That’s unfair,” Padraig protested.
“Unfair? To you? Let me guess what she said to convince you she should stay and witness our wedding. She can’t believe you’d abandon her.
That it will devastate her to be away from you.
That she can’t live without you. That she just needs time to find a way for you to be together.
” Cairren waived a dismissive hand in front of her.
“I’ve heard that drivel from desperate women more times than I have fingers and toes.
But it still surprises me how many men believe it.
Though I can’t say you surprise me at all. You’re wholly predictable.”
Cairren turned away, but Padraig’s arms drew her back against his broad chest. His heated palm rested on her belly, wide enough to cover most of her abdomen. He leaned in to whisper beside her ear. “That is a future you concocted. I will swear my oath before God, and I will keep it.”
“You may claim you’ll be faithful, but you don’t deny Myrna made those pleas to you.”
“So what if she did? You will be my wife by this time tomorrow.”