Chapter Six #4
He wanted to hold her in his arms, brush all her tears away, then kiss her, but he was unsure what her response would be. Seeing her cry was like a punch to the gut. "I should've hurt MacBain worse than I did. Should've broken both his legs."
"Nay. There was no need. I just hope he stays gone."
"Why did you not leave him when he turned his attention to the other woman?"
"I had no proof. Besides, 'twas against the agreement I'd signed. I had to stay for a year and a day, no matter what, other than physical abuse of course."
"He didn't abuse you?"
"He never hit me, if that's what you mean.
But he could be rather insulting at times.
My father regretted making the arrangement, but there was naught either of us could do until the year was up, because MacBain kept the other woman a secret.
There were rumors, but I didn't know who she was at the time.
Only later did I find out he married her soon after I left. "
Torrin paced before the small fireplace where a low fire burned. "Well, simply because you lay with MacBain off and on for three months and didn't conceive doesn't mean you're barren."
"'Haps you're right. But you're a chief and will want an heir. I'm certain marrying me would be a risk you wouldn't wish to take. And I refuse to sign another trial marriage agreement. Men have no concept of what that does to a woman."
Some called the trial marriage handfasting, and he could see the benefit of it.
But now he tried to imagine the situation from the female viewpoint…
from Jessie's viewpoint. 'Twas indeed a precarious position for a woman.
A marriage might hinge on whether or not she was able to conceive.
In any case, he wouldn't ask that of her.
He wanted a real marriage. "I'm sorry you went through that.
I can tell 'twas hard for you and it left some lasting damage. "
She nodded, gazing into his eyes with a bit more trust than before. "'Tis not something I want to experience again. I've had two broken engagements. The first time, I was betrothed to one of the Keith allies, but he disappeared the day before the wedding and I never saw him again."
"A daft fool," Torrin muttered. What was wrong with these imbecilic men? Not only was Jessie a stunningly beautiful woman, she was also strong, tall and proud. A warrior princess? A goddess? Aye, indeed.
"Mayhap he had a premonition about—"
"Jessie," Torrin chided softly. "Don't say it. You're not barren."
"You don't know that."
"Neither do you. There's only one way to know for sure." Aye, he was ready for the challenge.
Jessie narrowed her eyes, glaring at him, but now—since the kiss—he saw more than just her ire. The way her pale blue eyes darkened told him she was more than interested in his suggestion. The way her hands had dug into his hair and held his head had told him she'd relished the kiss.
"Would it be so terrible?" he asked.
"For you, nay."
"You enjoyed the kiss near as much as I did. You cannot lie about that. And I can guarantee you will not leave my bed unsatisfied."
"Must you be so vulgar?"
Wry amusement came over him. "I was but speaking the truth, m'lady. And furthermore, I promise to give you pleasures such as you have never experienced before."
"'Tis but a game to you, aye?" she snapped. "This is my life we're talking about."
Frustration and need gored him. He knew he was right; he simply needed to prove it to her. "You want to live your whole life never knowing whether or not you're barren?"
She shook her head and stared into the fire's embers for a few moments. "It matters not. Birthing a bairn might kill me anyway."
Fear sliced through him. Every man's worst nightmare—the wife he loved dying while trying to bring their child into the world. "Why do you say that?" he demanded.
"My mother died giving birth to me. 'Tis not that rare."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"For a long time, I felt I was to blame."
"Nay. How could you be?"
She shrugged. "I know these things happen sometimes and no one is to blame."
"You're a healthy, strong woman. I'm certain you will be able to birth many bairns.
" He prayed she could, for he wanted no one else to be the mother of his children.
He'd been imagining her as his wife for months.
He'd even wondered what their children might look like.
Would they have a son with flaming red hair, or chestnut brown like his?
'Haps several with each. Lasses, too. He'd imagined them living a long, happy life at Munrick.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Who is it?" Jessie asked.
"'Tis me, Mariana, m'lady. I had a question about supper."
"I'll be right out."
"We'll continue this discussion later," Torrin said in a hushed tone so the maid wouldn't hear.
"'Haps." Jessie gave him a warning look, but he wanted naught more than to kiss her and carry her to that bed and prove to her she was not barren. But this was a tricky situation he'd never imagined before.
What if she truly was barren? Would he marry her anyway and give up the chance of producing an heir?