Chapter Thirteen Earning the Reputation
Chapter Thirteen
Earning the Reputation
Alice’s mind did not steady through the day.
As time for supper came, her annoyance at once small issue had seemingly grown into a monster that sat in her chest. She tried, at first, to busy her hands.
She took up her needlework, only to later realize she had unpicked and restitched the same three stitches without noticing.
She walked the length of the hallway outside her chambers, forcing her eyes to pick out the details in the painted ceilings, several times, until one of the older servants had given her a look that suggested the lady of the keep was not supposed to be seen pacing like a caged animal.
After that, she had attempted to sleep through some of the afternoon, certain the exhaustion from the night before would drag her under.
She was wrong. Each time she closed her eyes, she saw him.
Not the man from the tavern, not the man who had supposedly killed his own brother, but the one who, last night, made her feel special and loved through his touch.
The man who had looked at her like she was the only thing worth looking at.
She turned over and screamed into her pillow at that point.
It would have been easier if he had been cruel.
She could have mentally put him in the same place she kept her family in her mind and spent her days with Molly, Catriona, and Siobhan.
But he was not. He was gentle, he asked her opinion, he made sure she was well taken care of.
A man who could be loving when he needed to should not also be capable of the things whispered of him.
Yes, she had seen him fighting those men, but that had been to defend her, had it not?
Her mind swam as she questioned it all. The lack of understanding, the fact that he had not been here for her all day, the way that he could just leave his wife after their first night?
These all felt like small issues, things that on their own could be explained.
But the more she sat with them? As the whole of the image?
No. That was not explainable without the laird being a man who had willfully lied to his wife.
Which lie? It could be the lie of omission where he had not explained his reputation or told her the truth about his brother?
Did he lie last night when he had promised that he had not been with that woman at the tavern in the time he had been married to Alice?
Or worse, was the lie the moment when he had looked at her with love and affection?
None of those possibilities sat well with her.
She was practically pacing around her chambers when Molly entered with her supper.
“My Lady, what is wrong?” Molly asked. Alice rounded on her, her eyes blazing. There was little that she had control over or could understand in this situation. But there was something she could do now.
“Molly,” she whispered. “I need you tae be honest with me.”
“Always,” Molly said gently.
“I have heard rumors about what the laird did to his brother. I need tae know if any of them are true.”
Alice watched as Molly’s face went pale. The maid hesitated, looking down at the food she had brought, before setting it on the side for Alice. She sat down on another seat and looked up at Alice.
“Ye dinnae wish tae ken the truth,” Molly whispered.
“I do,” Alice assured her.
“I mean it, my lady,” Molly pressed, her hands twisting in her lap. “Once ye ken it, ye cannae unken it. And it isnae my place tae be the one who tells ye. It should be the laird…”
“Evander has had ample time to tell me,” Alice sighed. “My brother has told me rumors, I have heard whispers from the servants, and now my mind is creating all sorts of versions of the man I married that are all more dreadful because I do not know the truth.”
“But—”
“Please,” Alice pleaded, reaching over to take Molly’s hands. “I do not wish to make you upset, but I need to know the truth of what has happened to my husband, or what it is people think has happened. Does a wife not deserve that much?”
Molly hesitated, then took a breath.
“Ye are right. It is just nae a pleasant thing tae talk about. The laird’s brother was nae the easiest man tae be around.
But he was supposed tae be the laird. At the time, Laird Evander had his eyes on a lass,” Molly explained, watching Alice’s expression.
“Past that the truth becomes murky. Some say Laird Evander killed his brother in a fit of rage because his brother courted the lass Evander loved. Others say they sparred, and Evander killed him fairly. I was nae at the scene, I dinnae ken. All I ken is that one day, his brother was laird, and the next, Evander had taken his place. I dinnae wish tae speculate when I dinnae ken but, well, I can see the rumors have reached your ears.”
Alice nodded slowly as she took it all in.
A conflict over a girl he loved. Is that why he wished to keep me at arm’s reach? To keep me from learning the truth about his brother? Or is it because of this girl…
She took a breath and sank into her seat.
“Thank you, Molly,” Alice sighed. “That does somewhat explain some things.”
“Ye are welcome,” Molly said. “Just please dinnae say that I was the one who told you.”
“I will not,” Alice replied.
Molly nodded, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Alice looked up at her.
“I have watched women in unhappy marriages,” Molly started. “And it always started because someone is unwillin’ tae speak the truth. I dinnae wish that for ye, my lady.”
Alice nodded.
“Thank you for thinking of me,” Alice said.
“I am always thinkin’ of ye, my lady,” Molly said softly. “And I do hope the laird will be honest and explain himself eventually.”
“As do I,” Alice nodded.
The pair sat in silence for a moment until Alice reached for her supper.
“Has the laird eaten tonight?” she asked as she began to pick at her food.
“Nae yet,” Molly said gently. “I believe he is still in the training grounds.”
“I see,” Alice said gently. “Please make sure that food is left in his chambers.”
“Of course, my lady.” Molly nodded, standing to go carry out Alice’s orders.
Alice sat with the new knowledge for a while after Molly had left.
She turned it over in her mind. A conflict over a girl he loved.
She did not know why that part had stuck with her more than the possibility that he could be violent did.
Perhaps the violence, at least, she had seen and could understand.
But love was not like that. It was not some desperate thing that got pressed onto a man when he was forced to defend the people he cared for.
No. Love was cultivated. Love was grown and chosen.
If Evander had once loved someone enough to fight, or kill, his own brother, what did that mean for whatever was growing between him and Alice?
Did that explain why he had been pushing her away?
She looked up at the ceiling and tried to take a deep breath.
If she had been worried because she had never heard mention of his brother around the keep, then this should worry her just as much.
She had never heard of this other woman before…
As she sat there, she started to feel the urge to walk. She knew if she did, her feet would go to find him. She knew where he was, she had a reason she could talk to him, but in all truth talking was not the activity she knew she wanted.
Is it so wrong of me to want a repeat of last night already?
Once Alice had finished her supper, she made her way outside to find Evander.
The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, the golden rays spilling out over the land around the keep.
Alice started to make her way toward the training grounds.
She heard she was going the right way before she saw it.
Evander’s voice floated over the still evening air, grunting before the sound of his weapon thudded into the sand bag.
She crept toward the wall that divided it from the armory.
There he was, shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat.
She bit her bottom lip and leaned into the wall as she watched him.
The light showed the definition of his muscles, making them more pronounced than they had been in the dim light of his chambers last night.
Even now she knew his skin well, it still made her heart pound to see him like this.
Evander had not noticed her, much too focused on his training. The movement and strain kept his mind clear, keeping her from his mind, keeping him from doing something he would regret. He ignored the hunger pangs. He could have supper when he was done.
It was not only her he was trying to push away.
Every strike against the sandbag was part of the argument raging on in his mind.
The same one he had been having with himself since he woke up next to her that morning.
He had told himself that he would be gentle, that he would not be cruel, but that he could not give himself fully to her.
He had intended to come back in the afternoon, but just hearing her voice had taken him back to last night, so he fled.
To the training grounds. To where he could not want anything but the repeated movements and the warmth of the sun on his skin.
A sandbag could not make him want things he had sworn off long ago, but it could take the beating of his sword.
His brother had wanted things too. Wanted them badly enough to lie, scheme, and nearly pull the clan apart. All over a woman whom Evander had already fallen for long ago. Evander had promised himself, after that fateful day, that he would never let wanting anyone cost him that much again.
It did not matter that Alice was nothing like the woman he and his brother wanted.
It did not matter that watching her sleep last night was like she had reached inside his chest and restarted his long-dead heart.