“I did when I was younger. We thought we were in love for a while.” Cairren shrugged as she looked up at Alex. “Then we grew up and realized that we were more like siblings. I told you, Alex fostered with us. I’ve known him since I was seven. For a while, it just seemed like Alex would be the logical person to marry. He’s a neighbor, and we’d known each other since childhood. We even convinced ourselves we were in love.”
“But then we realized that marrying someone because it was convenient or because it was just comfortable after so much time around each other wasn’t what either of us wanted,” Alex explained. “Rather than seeing Cairren as a wife, I went back to seeing her as a sister. It’s a much better arrangement.”
“Padraig?” Cairren’s voice grew hesitant, and both Alex’s and Padraig’s eyes swung to her. “Where’s your mother? I need to ask permission for chambers to be provided for Alex, as the heir to Clan Armstrong, and for Daniel and Jamie. Daniel is my father’s cousin, and Jamie is his son.”
“Ask permission?” Jamie pushed forward. “This is your home, and we’re your family.”
Cairren shook her head, praying Jamie wouldn’t be as persistent as he usually was. She prayed he would understand the look she gave him, but when he opened his mouth again, she knew he hadn’t.
“Why do you sound afraid to speak to your mother-by-marriage, Cairren?” Jamie demanded.
Cairren opened and closed her mouth thrice like a hooked fish. Padraig watched her struggle to decide what to tell the men without lying. He eased her into his embrace and guided her head against his chest before he whispered in her ear.
“Take your family inside for refreshment, and I’ll make the arrangements with my mother.” Cairren nodded and started to pull away, but Padraig’s breath tickled against her once again. “Ren, their chambers will be on your floor. Do you want them to know you don’t sleep on the same floor as the rest of the laird’s family?”
“No more than I want them to know that the woman you’re cuckolding me with sleeps on the same floor as you.” Cairren felt Padraig go rigid, but she didn’t care. He wasn’t the one who was the laughingstock of the Highlands.
“Then stay with me in my chamber while they’re here.”
Cairren’s lips pinched together, and Padraig noticed the corner of her left eye twitched, but she nodded. She released him and turned to her family and friend. “Let’s make our way into the Great Hall. The evening meal won’t be long, but I can get you something to drink while we wait.”
Padraig watched Cairren disappear into the circle of men who accompanied her into the keep, then turned to look for his mother. He didn’t need to go anywhere because Mary and Myrna stood watching.
“How quaint,” Mary snipped.
“Mother, I need three guest chambers prepared for the night.”
“We don’t have room,” Mary’s haughty tone grated on her son’s nerves. He hadn’t forgotten what he’d heard earlier. He counted his blessings that their guests arrived when they did. They would keep Cairren safe while he dealt with the inevitable emotional roller coaster Myrna would drag him on the next day.
“We do. Cairren will share my chamber while our guests are here.”
“What?” Myrna screeched. “Tomorrow was to be our wedding night, and now you’ll have that whore back in our bed.”
Padraig’s patience snapped. “That’s it. I’ve warned ye aboot the things ye say. What if one of our guests overhears? Do ye want me called out? Do ye want the Munros and the Rosses to be shamed across the Highlands? Ye may nae value Cairren, but her clan certainly does. Who do you think people will believe? A man and a woman whining aboot nae getting their way, or a group of warriors defending their lady’s honor. Ye return to Belnagown in the morning.”
“But what aboot the feast and the festival?”
“Ye should have thought aboot that before ye opened yer gob. Go and pack. We ride out at dawn, Myrna. And dinna think to change ma mind. Tomorrow meant as much to me as it did ye. I’m as heartbroken aboot how our lives have turned out as ye are. But I married Cairren to help this clan. I willna have ye jeopardize that, or this will all have been for naught.”
“But Padraig—” Myrna’s voice faded as Padraig stormed into the Great Hall only to find Cairren seated at a table below the salt with the Kennedys surrounding her, and Alexander Armstrong sitting so close that she was practically on his lap.
Chapter Nineteen
Padraig ground his teeth as he watched Cairren throughout the meal. She’d politely suggested to his mother that it would be easier if she sat with her clansmen, so Mary wouldn’t have to rearrange the seating to accommodate anyone else. Myrna tried to take her usual seat beside him, but he hissed and jutted his chin toward the Kennedys. Myrna sulked, but for the first time, he didn’t care. He moved down the table and chose the seat to the right of Wynda.
So much for nae rearranging our seats. Ma wife refuses to sit with me in public. The woman who should have some clue aboot discretion would like to flaunt our relationship under ma wife’s kinsmen’s nose. And I havenae the cods to do aught aboot any of this.
“You’re a dog in a manger,” Wynda whispered, and Padraig’s head jerked up. She nodded as she glanced out at Cairren, who was laughing for the first time ever in the Munros’ Great Hall. “You don’t want her, but you don’t want anyone else to have her too. Except here’s the thing: she’s not the one looking for other opportunities. She’s accepted where her life has taken her.”
“I’m taking Myrna home in the morning,” Padraig grumbled. He was unprepared for Wynda to grow anxious and tremble. “What’s wrong?”
“Naught. That just won’t last for long,” Wynda whispered.
“What do you mean? I’m taking her home for good.”
“For one reason or another, she’ll be back within a sennight. Mark my words.”
Padraig kept quiet when Duncan looked at him over Wynda’s head, then whispered in his wife’s ear. Whatever Duncan said had Wynda nodding. When Duncan turned away, Wynda trembled more, but she kept her eyes down.
When the music began, Padraig rose to ask Cairren to dance, but as he walked past Myrna, she stood.
“It’s our last night together, and there will be no tomorrow for us. Can we not dance?” Myrna looked up at Padraig under her lashes, but her coy look no longer affected him as it had for years. He was too annoyed with Myrna and everyone else to want to play flirtatious games.
“Maybe later,” Padraig’s noncommittal answer brought sparks to Myrna’s eyes, but he walked past her before he had to listen to any more of her comments about Cairren. He approached Cairren as Alex stuck out his hand, and she nodded.
“Appears you’re too late,” Jamie grinned as he lifted his mug of ale. “Maybe you shouldn’t have dallied so long.”
Padraig glared at Jamie, but it only made his grin broader. Padraig watched as Cairren and Alex danced together. They moved gracefully, and it was clear they’d partnered countless times. A burning sensation took root in his chest above his heart. It tempted him to rub his fist over it to see if he could loosen the pain, but he refused to draw attention to himself. As he watched Cairren smiling at Alex and how he held Cairren in his arms, Padraig realized he was seeing things through Cairren’s eyes every time she had to watch him with Myrna. The pain intensified and nearly stole his breath. He snagged a mug of ale as a serving woman walked by.
“Feeling wretched yet?” Daniel appeared at his elbow. “They make a striking couple. What they said earlier was true. They are more like brother and sister, but they would have been good together. Perhaps it would have grown into the love they thought they had, maybe not. But he would have taken wonderful care of her. Do you see how he’s listening to her, but his eyes are constantly searching the crowd? It doesn’t take longer than two heartbeats to understand your wife isn’t safe in here. Why might that be?”
Padraig looked at Daniel and realized the man was waiting for an answer. The question hadn’t been rhetor
ical. “Because they see her as being so different. They assume her difference makes her not good enough. Some even fear it, I suppose.”
Daniel nodded. “And what have you done to ensure she’s safe?”
“She doesn’t like to leave her chamber, so it hasn’t been an issue.” Padraig shrugged.
“You may be the stupidest mon I have ever met. You cannot be that great an eejit. ‘She doesn’t like to leave her chamber.’ She’s scared to leave it, and you’re too busy being some lovelorn suitor with a woman who will never be your wife.” Daniel made a sound of disgust before turning away. Padraig noticed Jamie setting his mug down as he prepared to stand. The song was ending, and Padraig wasn’t willing to let another man claim Cairren’s attention.
Padraig elbowed his way through his clan members until he reached the corner where Alex and Cairren stood together. Alex’s arm was wrapped around Cairren’s waist as he whispered in her ear, and Padraig watched the cords in her elegant neck tauten as she lifted her chin to respond. She turned toward Alex, and Padraig could see how Alex’s hand rested possessively on Cairren’s hip. The man’s hand was where Padraig believed only his should be. He wanted to find a cleaver and hack it off.
“You’ve had enough of my wife’s time,” Padraig announced, and Alex and Cairren both turned startled expressions at him.
“Alex was apologizing for an incident at court that involved some of his men,” Cairren explained.
“What happened?” Padraig demanded. He stepped in front of Alex, his hand resting on the handle of his dirk. “Did one of his men proposition you?”
“Aye, they did,” Alex responded before Cairren could. “And they’ve both received the lash for it. No man should speak to a woman the way they did Cairren, and especially not an Armstrong who kens what Cairren means to me.”
“To you?” Padraig snapped. “And just what does she mean?”
Alex unwrapped his arm from Cairren’s waist and once more moved to push her behind him, but Padraig snarled.
“You’re acting as though I would hurt my own wife. She doesn’t need protecting from me,” Padraig hissed.
“Doesn’t she? Because in the three hours I’ve been here and the one dance I’ve had with your wife, I’ve heard five threats to her life, three people call her a whore, and at least five call her a slut. I’d say she bluidy well needs protecting.”
Padraig glanced down at Cairren, whose face had gone so pale he feared she would collapse. It was the same ghostly white as their wedding night when her knees gave out. Padraig pulled Cairren into his embrace, and she buried her face in his chest. Padraig whispered, “Did you hear this too, Ren?”
Cairren nodded her head. It had been horrible to hear what people said, and it reconfirmed why she never should have left her chamber. Padraig looked at Alex and then swept his eyes across the clan members gathered. They laughed and danced and drank as though nothing was out of the norm, yet Padraig wanted to rail against them, demand that they cease persecuting Cairren and just let her live her life. Yet what life was there? Even if she weren’t in danger, she was still just as unwanted, if not more, than when she arrived.
“We’re going abovestairs, Ren. I don’t want you down here anymore.” Padraig whispered.
“What are you going to do? Lock her in the chamber you’re demanding you share with her after keeping her in a guest chamber since you married? Then mayhap you’ll come down here and dance away another night with the woman you really treat as your wife?” Alex demanded. “Och aye, thought we wouldn’t hear aboot that either, did you? Aboot how she doesn’t even have a chamber on the family floor, but the other one does. That’s no great secret. We kenned that before we even arrived.”
“Enough,” Padraig snapped. “If you want to discuss this with me, then do so as a mon tomorrow, away from Cairren. You’re doing naught to make her feel better. While you’re so busy rubbing it in my face, you seem to have overlooked that you’re doing it to Cairren, too.” Padraig guided Cairren away from the crowd and up the stairs. He didn’t look at anyone but Cairren as they passed the dais. He kept his arms wrapped around her, but when she stumbled on the landing, he lifted her and carried her to his chamber.
Cairren kept her eyes shut as she entered Padraig’s chamber. She didn’t want to look at the bed that was both the location of her greatest humiliation and greatest pleasure. When Padraig set her on her feet, she turned toward the fire and pulled her Kennedy plaid snugger around her shoulders. Padraig watched, and it struck him that they’d been married nearly two moons, and Cairren still wore her clan’s plaid when she should have begun wearing a Munro one on the day they married. He pulled a spare plaid from the foot of the bed before walking to Cairren.
“Ren, this will be far too large, but I can help you fold it into an arisaid.” Padraig offered her his plaid, but she stared at it as though it were riddled with vermin. She shook her head. “You should’ve been wearing my plaid since the day we wed.”
“There are always a lot of shoulds,” Cairren whispered. “They’ll just think I’m mocking them.”
“Or they’ll know you’re a member of this clan.”
“Go to bed, Padraig. Go back downstairs. Just go.” Cairren turned her back and walked to the hearth.
“I’m not leaving here, Ren. And I want you to have this.”
“Why? Why does it suddenly matter?”
Padraig ran his hand through his hair and decided honesty might work for once. “Because I want to see you in my plaid. Because I’m furious that I had to watch another mon hold you in his arms and watch you offer him smiles I’ve never seen before. I’m angry at my family and Myrna for how they’ve treated you. I’ll kill whoever’s been making threats against you, and I will find out who. I’m disgusted with myself for being such a cowardly bastard for not treating you properly. Because I just want one night for you where you aren’t scared or abused. You deserve far more, but that’s what I can guarantee you right now.”
Cairren was about to take pity on Padraig when she recalled what she’d heard that morning as she slipped out of the keep. She’d spotted Myrna entering her chamber as her maid opened the door. In the silent keep, her voice carried. “I barely made it out in time. He wouldn’t let go!” Cairren’s eyes swept over Padraig’s bed. The one where she’d spent one night, and Myrna seemed to have spent all the others. She walked to the door, but before she could pull it open, Padraig’s hand covered hers on the handle. She ripped hers away and shoved his chest.
“Leave me alone,” Cairren hissed. “Don’t crowd me and don’t trap me here.”
“Trap you here? I’m trying to keep you safe, and we agreed you would stay here while your clansmen are visiting.”
“I agreed because I didn’t know what else to say at the moment, but now that I’m here, I can’t stay. Besides, what will Myrna say if she shows up, and I’m here? Or does she know to expect you at her chamber?”
“What’re you talking aboot? Do you mean so she kens when we’ll leave in the morn?”
“No, I mean so you can bed her like you do every night.”
“Bed her? Now you’re just making shite up.”
“I am not,” Cairren seethed. “I’m not the liar of the two of us.”
“Neither am I. I’ve been honest aboot the situation from the start.”
“Selectively, at best. But you are lying now. I’ve heard her talking aboot it.”
“You’ve been spying on Myrna?”
“That’s rich. You assume I’m in the wrong. You’re not denying that you’re bedding her. You’re accusing me of spying. Go to hell.” Cairren reached for the door again, but Padraig stepped in front of her.
“How else would you know what she’s been saying? Mayhap not spying, but eavesdropping.”
Cairren held up her forefinger. “The first time I heard her, I was going downstairs while she and her maid were aboot to enter her chamber. They were discussing the miraculous things you do with your tongue. Apparently, it’s so g
ood, she’d steal the crown jewels for it. I wouldn’t ken.” She held up a second finger. “The next time, I was trying to hide from Duncan when I heard them in the passageway outside the storeroom. I learned she likes it when you take her against the wall.” She held up a third finger. “And this very morn I heard aboot how she barely made it out of your chamber in time. You couldn’t keep your bluidy hands off her. She’s expecting you tonight, so you should go and avoid being late.” Cairren stepped back and crossed her arms, her toes tapping, and her eyebrow cocked. She appeared bored as she waited for Padraig to move.
“You’re lying, and it’s ugly,” Padraig accused.
“Oh, because it’s not possible that you’d forsake your vows so you can rut with your pretty and perfect lady.”
“It’s not possible because I haven’t. Other than that kiss you saw in the garden, I haven’t touched her. Or at least, there have been no other intimacies.”
“Then how do you explain what I heard?”
“You must be mistaken.”
“It’s always so much easier to believe I’m wrong than to accept that she’s not perfect. I hate you.” Cairren snapped her mouth shut, not having intended to hurl such a venomous phrase, but in that moment, she meant it with her whole heart.
Padraig straightened and looked down at Cairren. Her words stung, and he wanted to lash out, but he forced himself to stop and think for once before he acted. Cairren wasn’t a liar, and it was easier to believe she was wrong than try to wrap his mind around what she told him. It was easier to paint her as the villain and keep his pristine image of Myrna intact. “Perhaps she knew you were there each time and was trying to hurt you.”
“And that makes it all right? That you’re not actually bedding her. She just wants to cause me pain.” Cairren shook her head.
“Mayhap. It’s not right, and I’m not excusing it, but I know I have slept alone every night that I haven’t been with you since you arrived. I have never coupled with Myrna. I’ve never done more than kiss her.”
An Enemy at the Highland Court: An Enemies to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 5) Page 15