Chapter 9 #2
Cairren studied him again before nodding. “I haven’t the strength to fight you too. I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want her here, but that’s not my decision to make. I will find things to occupy my days, and I won’t question how you occupy yours.”
Padraig didn’t like that at all. The resignation in her voice hurt him in a way he couldn’t describe.
It wasn’t quite guilt, shame, or pity. Perhaps it was a combination of them all.
While he wanted to spend his days with Myrna and even intended to when he wasn’t training, her acceptance reflected how downtrodden she’d already become.
She’d given up, and they’d only married a few hours ago.
But why would she put up a fight? What is there to fight for?
I dinna want to be married to her any more than she wants to be married to me.
She kens I love another woman. I’ve told her I can never love her.
We spent more than half of today believing we would be free of one another in a year.
And I willna commit to sending Myrna away.
I dinna want to send her away, yet I want to be bedding Cairren as we dance.
I’m a hypocrite, and what’s worse is that I suspect I willna hide it from anyone for long.
Ma clan and Myrna already witnessed how I kissed her, ma lust was on display for everyone.
I desire her too much to pretend tonight in ma bed that I dinna.
I want to enjoy coupling with her. I want her to enjoy it as much as I do. Bluidy bleeding hell.
The music changed to a country reel, and Cairren pulled away as though she’d been burned.
She turned to the dais before Padraig could lead her.
He was only two steps behind her when an elbow flew toward her face.
There was nothing about the current dance that warranted such a move.
Cairren ducked in time that it struck Padraig mid-chest. He knew that meant it would have struck Cairren in the face.
Padraig grabbed the offending man by his leine and ripped him away from his partner.
“I would be within ma rights to kill ye for that. Ye tried to strike ma bride, a noblewoman, daughter-by-marriage to yer laird,” Padraig seethed as he looked at those within earshot.
He was so furious he didn’t realize he’d lapsed into his burr.
“I will make this clear to ye, and ye may tell everyone else. Any harm done to Lady Cairren is harm done to me. It willna be punishment I’m after.
It’ll be vengeance, clansman or nae. It wasnae her idea to be here.
She never asked for this marriage. But she is, and ye will treat her with the respect due ma wife.
If she can follow the king’s decree with honor, ye bluidy well can too. ”
Cairren watched in horror as Padraig appeared ready to murder the man in the Munros’ Great Hall.
A small—miniscule, really—part of her appreciated Padraig coming to her defense.
But fear of retribution consumed her. Padraig was na?ve to think his warning carried weight.
He was an imposing figure when he was calm, and positively terrifying when he was angry, but his people vastly outnumbered him.
Even if no one attempted such an obvious attack again, she would pay for him lashing out.
When she stepped toward Padraig, people lurched out of her way as though she were a leper.
She put her hands on the arm that held the man, and she looked up at him.
She wouldn’t speak aloud her plea, but she knew he understood because he released the offender immediately.
She turned back toward the dais, and just as she always did, she walked with her head held high and her shoulders back.
Padraig stepped beside her and wrapped her arm through his as he walked with her back to the dais.
He took in the scene at the laird’s table, and his stomach sank knowing Cairren saw the same thing.
Innes was on his feet, Collette and Wynda looked aghast, tears even streamed down his sister-by-marriage’s cheeks.
Duncan and Micheil were laughing, and Mary and Myrna had smug satisfaction written across their faces.
Padraig was struck by a thought that chilled him to his core.
Did Myrna arrange for that to happen? Nay.
She may nae feel sorry for Cairren that it happened, but she would never be so unkind as to do such a thing.
The idea couldnae have crossed her mind.
Padraig was about to take the first step up to the dais when his mother rose.
“Let’s get this over with,” Mary called out. “There is a celebration to enjoy once it’s done.”
Padraig glanced down at Cairren, both understanding what Mary meant.
It was time for the bedding ceremony. His mother’s comment once again embarrassed him.
There was no misconstruing that she meant the feast wouldn’t start in earnest until they’d enjoyed Cairren’s inevitable humiliation.
Without a sound, Cairren released his arm and turned around.
Those on the dais followed the couple toward the stairs, but before they ascended, Padraig turned back to the crowd that jockeyed for positions that would grant them access to his chamber.
“My wife and I will only entertain our family. No one else is permitted in my chamber.”
“Son,” Mary protested.
“My bride should be for my eyes only. There will already be too many of you there, and this will already take too long for my taste.” Padraig’s penetrating gaze swept over everyone gathered, even settling on Myrna for a moment.
He couldn’t prevent the bedding ceremony, but he could be sure everyone understood he didn’t dread coupling with his wife.
Mayhap if I show that I accept her, then others will begin to, too.
Mayhap I can convince maself of that while I’m at it.
Padraig led Cairren to his bedchamber and opened the door. Before she could step forward, he scooped her into his arms and carried her over the threshold. When he placed her on her feet, he kissed her cheek.