Chapter 13
“’Tis doesn’t mean it’s the truth. No one believes her.”
Fennella sighed, cupping her mug in her hands. “But what if it is the truth?”
Aileene stirred the contents of the large pot over the fire, her face shiny with sweat from the heat. “I cannot believe that Lachlan would do something like that and not tell Aleck. He was not one to keep such a secret.”
Fennella looked down at the liquid in her mug, conflicted on what to think or do. She did not want to see Aleck, that was for certain. He said that nothing would change between them, but everything had changed.
If this woman was truly the dead laird’s wife, then the babe she carried was the true heir of the clan.
Not Aleck. He would be forced to step aside once his niece or nephew was born, mentor the young child on what it meant to be the leader of the clan, but never take the position again.
After everything she had seen in her time here, Aleck was the laird that this clan needed. He had been born to be a laird.
Why had this woman shown up now? She was a beauty, with auburn hair that curled on the ends and blue eyes that had darkened with tears before Aleck had escorted Fennella from the main hall.
When Fennella had returned, the woman had been waiting there, her tears no longer visible and more of a smug smile on her face. Isla was her name, and she was nearing the end of her pregnancy, for which she proudly showed off by placing a hand on her stomach.
A reminder that she was potentially carrying the heir, not Fennella.
Not that she was ready to have a bairn of her own. She was just getting used to the fact that she was married to the Scot.
Well, and enjoying the things that a husband and wife shared in the privacy of their bedchamber.
“You’re blushing Fennella.”
Fennella eyed her friend, who was smirking. “I’m not. It’s hot in here.”
Aileene laughed, placing the dough on the worktable before picking up her roller. “’Tis a sight better than the frown you had on your face only minutes ago.”
“’Tis likely to come back,” Fennella said faintly, her heart heavy.
She didn’t want to think about how Aleck had softened her heart or how her body heated whenever he stepped into the room.
She had gone from not wanting to be in his presence to craving his handsome face and the grin that she knew he would bestow on her the moment he saw her.
When he had walked through the keep doors earlier, she imagined for a split second that he was coming to steal her up to their bedchamber, not telling her that his dead brother’s bride had just shown up, disrupting the fragile bond between them.
“Dear Fennella,” Aileene sighed, reaching over to cover her hand. “Just go talk with Aleck. I’m certain he is just as confused about this and would likely enjoy the distraction you can provide.”
“I cannae just yet,” Fennella replied. “I cannae face him and know.”
“Know what?” her friend asked gently. “That your husband is enamored by you? That you were meant to be together?”
Fennella slid off the wooden stool, unwilling to listen to Aileene’s words any longer. “I guess I should check on our guest, being the lady of the keep.”
“That’s right,” Aileene said as Fennella walked out of the kitchen. “You are the lady of the keep.”
Fennella just wished she felt like it at the moment.
Straightening her shoulders, Fennella moved to the main hall and up the stairs, to the second level of the keep.
She had put Isla in one of the guest rooms that were on the opposite side of their bedchamber, glad that the servants kept the rooms aired out and clean.
Duncan’s chambers were a few doors down, with Uncle Fergus right next to him.
Fennella passed both, knowing that the men were likely at the sparring fields.
Which meant she would have no one to hear what Isla might say to her. She wasn’t so certain that a ring and a claim was enough to prove that this was Lachlan’s wife, but how else would they be able to prove it? The man in question was dead.
Fennella drew in a breath before knocking on the door, adjusting her skirts nervously. She was the lady of the keep, married to the laird. She wasn’t one to be intimidated easily, and this woman wasn’t going to do it either.
The door opened and Fennella forced a smile. “I’ve come to see if there is anything you need.”
The woman eyed her; her lip curled into slight disgust. “The room is drafty, and the mattress is hard as a rock.”
Well then. “I apologize. This is a stone keep after all.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Her blue eyes darkened but not with tears this time. No, they were full of anger. “You are a plain thing. Did the laird marry you for your dowry then?”
Fennella cleared her throat, balling her hands into fists. “That is none of your concern. I am only looking after your comfort.”
“Oh yes,” the woman said gleefully, patting her protruding belly. “’Tis hard to be comfortable these days. The babe has taken up a great deal of room in my body.”
Fennella bit her lip to keep from saying something that would be spiteful at the woman, her eyes on her stomach. It was clear to her that she was, indeed, pregnant.
Though by whom still remained to be seen.
“How long have you been married?” Isla asked, rubbing her stomach lightly. “It can’t be long. My Lachlan has only been gone a few months.”
Her Lachlan. Was this an act or was it the truth? “Dinner will be served in two hours,” Fennella said instead, ignoring her question. “In the great hall. I hope you will join us.”
Isla sniffed. “Perhaps I will come to tell my story so the laird will have more faith in what I am saying. He will be there, right?”
“Of course,” Fennella said tightly, not liking the way the woman had asked such a question. “I shall see you then.”
Isla shut the door in her face and Fennella turned in the direction of her own bedchamber. She would strive to be nice to the woman, but it didn’t mean that she trusted her or believed her story.
Not yet.
Aleck came to their bedchamber an hour later, his sword still slung over his shoulder. “Wife,” he said, placing his sword on the chair beside the door.
“Husband,” she said softly, finishing the plait on her hair. “Have you been sparring?”
“Yes,” he answered, eyeing the tub she had just gotten out of. “Is the water still warm?”
Fennella rose from the bed. “Aye, it should be.”
“Good,” Aleck stated before picking her up, surprising her. He strode to the tub and stepped in, fully clothed with her in his arms. Fennella squealed as he sank into the water, soaking her dress. “What are you doing?”
“I want ye tae scrub mah back,” he grinned, softening her heart.
“I could have done it without getting into the tub,” she grumbled, even as she wound her arms around his neck. Heaven help her, she missed him.
He nuzzled her neck, his hot breath on her skin. “Aye but I like it better like this.”
Fennella closed her eyes and allowed him to kiss her neck, wanting to forget everything that had happened since they awoke in this same room this morning.
She wanted to forget that there was a woman threatening to tear apart this happiness she had found here, a happiness she never thought she would have with a man.
A man like Aleck.
“We have tae many clothes on lass,” Aleck said as he reached for the laces on the front of her dress. She had started wearing that style of dress as opposed to buttons, knowing that it made for quicker access given her husband’s appetite for her body.
That and she would have to start to wear his breeks if he tore another one off her body. “Well you did not give me time to remove it.”
His eyes grew heated. “Aye, because that is one duty I enjoy doing, Fennella.”
Who could say anything back when he talked like that?