by Paula Quinn
“As long as I’m here, I may as well try to get along with everyone.”
He nodded, his gaze going hard. “Use whatever part of the wardrobe ye want, or the trunks to store them, as long as ye’re here.” He moved toward the door, averting his gaze from hers. “I’ll go tell the lads we’ll be by another time.”
She turned to look at him. She thought he wasn’t angry. She wished he were as easy to read as she was. “Why are we not going?”
He stopped and turned and held up his palms. “To what end, lass? Are we to pretend this is workin’…that there could be somethin’ between us? Is that what ye want to do?”
Pretend that there could be something between them. Could there be? Why did his words feel like little darts? Why did she care what he thought of her? She pressed her closed hand to her chest and shook her head. “What else can we do?”
He regarded her with a mix of determination and pity in his eyes. “No’ pretend…and stay away from each other. I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight.”
He turned to leave again.
“Adam.” Her voice stopped him. Why was she calling him back? This was what she wanted. This was in her best interest if she ever returned to England. An annulment. Her marriage to Adam dissolved in the eyes of the church.
It was best if he stayed away. She thought of him too often. She enjoyed his company. She didn’t want to lose it and be here on her own.
“You proved last night that you could be trusted in this bed.” She was mad. She was lonely. That was why the words left her mouth.
He turned to capture her gaze with his. She felt a charge, like lightning going through her. “I hadna seen ye naked last night, lass.”
She swallowed and lifted her fingers to her throat. So, then, his leaving was about that. “Very well,” she said softly, utterly disappointed in him. She turned away now. “If you cannot control your urges, then ’tis best you go.”
She thought of the many times William had controlled his over the years. The savage between Adam and William was obvious. Her flesh burned with thoughts of Adam pulling off her nightdress and burying himself in her.
The door slamming behind her snatched her from her madness and then made her angry. She was dressed in layers of wool to sit alone in her room. Her arisaid had taken precise work to get the pleats just right under her belt. She’d denied herself the lavender gown. And for what? To be left behind while he made apologies for her?
What was she supposed to do now? Chase him? She glanced at the table by the window. She went to it and threw herself into the chair. She snapped up a piece of parchment and the quill and began writing.
Dear William,
I fear I may be losing this terrible battle to keep from…Oh, he makes me so angry…
She ran a line through it and crumpled up the parchment.
Her gaze slipped back to the door. She didn’t want to write a letter that might not ever be read. And she didn’t want to sit here alone all night.
Did he think she wouldn’t leave the castle without him? He was wrong. She straightened her shoulders and stormed toward the door with her unfinished letter in her hand.
Chapter Thirteen
What am I to do aboot her?” Adam looked down at Goliath while they walked together up the heather-lined hill toward the crest above Camlochlin. He didn’t feel like explaining to his kin why he and his wife were postponing their visit. Hell, he’d spent more time with his relatives in the last few days than he had in a year.
His life was changing quickly. Too quickly. He needed to sit and ponder things for a bit. What were his choices? What did he want to happen? The first answer was simple. He had no choices. If he didn’t consummate the marriage and sent Sina back to her father, what would it mean for his outlawed clan? The queen was trying to protect them by having them bound to the future crown with this alliance. Sending her back could be a disgrace to her father—which wouldn’t be good for his clan. As much as he didn’t want to care about such things, he did. This wasn’t about some English law that would affect Scotland and most likely not the Highlands. This was about Camlochlin. He had to keep her here with him and either live apart from her or with her, and in both cases, remain celibate.
“Hell,” he muttered miserably when he reached the top of the hill. A refreshing, cool wind blew his hair away from his face as he turned to look down on the vale.
He wouldn’t force her, but he couldn’t seem to win her. She still hoped she’d be rescued.
“She isna goin’ to change her mind aboot Camlochlin and just settle in,” he said, sitting on the ground beside his dog. “I dinna blame her. If I were taken from my home and my kin and forced to remain at the queen’s court, I’d be just as resistant. How do I get her to like it here? Is it even possible?”
Goliath growled and lay down with his nose between his black paws.
Adam spread his gaze over the castle and caught sight of his wife’s striped arisaid as she hurried out the doors. He watched while she made her way to a fire barrel and tossed something into it. She looked around at the houses and then went still when she saw Ula standing a few feet away from her. Adam smiled. Ula was perceptive. All the hounds were. They looked deeper than the flesh.
Sina wasn’t difficult to like, not since Adam had gotten to know her. He wanted to be compassionate about her desires, but images of her naked body bent over his bed were driving him mad. All day she haunted him. Why had he walked in when he had? Who had opened the damned shutters on the windows so that the sun could bathe her in its golden light as she reached for his plaid on the bed? Her thighs were smooth and creamy white. Her arse, firm and round, tempted him to prove that he could indeed be a savage.
He’d done what any other married fool would have done when his wife ordered him out. He went.
He wasn’t sure how long he’d obey that command if he continued to sleep with her though.
He kept his eyes on her now as she took a step closer to Ula—and Ula took a step closer to her.
“Easy, gel,” he murmured, though the hound was too far away to hear him, “dinna frighten her.”
His smile deepened as Sina lifted her hand and Ula slowly fit her head under it.
Adam had no idea why the sight of her petting Ula on her own made him happy. He glanced at Goliath. “Ye could stand to be a bit nicer to her.”
Goliath closed his eyes.
Adam shook his head, then stuck a blade of grass in his mouth and returned his gaze to his wife. He sat up straighter. What was she doing bending her face to Ula’s? Whatever she did…or said, caused the hound to wag her tail and turn her huge head in Adam’s direction.
It was too late to hide. Besides, he wouldn’t do such a cowardly thing. She was looking for him. He wondered why. He’d been tortured enough for one day. He didn’t want to invite her to sit with him while the sun set, especially when she looked so damned bonny in her Highland skirts and arisaid. Why didn’t she just leave him in peace?
Sina looked toward the hill and, spotting him at the top, gave Ula an extra pet behind the ears.
When she started up the hill, Adam let out a deep exhalation and bent his knee to rest his elbow on it. He was surprised to see she hadn’t changed her clothes. He was happy about it too.
Rising to his feet, he brushed off his breeches and started down.
He hadn’t yet answered the second thing he’d come to ponder. What did he want to happen? Did he want to let himself fall in love with her? How difficult would it be? How would it change his life?
Hell, he needed a drink.
He looked back up the crest at Will’s tavern and stopped to wait for Sina to reach him. Mayhap she could use a drink as well.
He was surprised and pleased to see Ula keeping close to Sina’s side. He liked knowing that if he was away, there would be a pair of eyes…and a nose on his wife to help keep her safe.
“Adam,” she said when she reached him.
He still liked the way his name sounded on her lips. He liked it mor
e every time she said it.
“I would like a word with you, please.”
“Over a drink?” he offered, pointing to the tavern. “We could bring Ula back to Will.”
“Oh.” It was a slight sound, ushered in on a reluctant breath as she exchanged a solemn look with Ula.
There was a bond already. Adam was glad that his wife didn’t hate dogs, but Ula belonged to someone else. He looked around for Goliath and found him hanging back, not even greeting his sister.
What the hell was wrong with him? “Goliath, come on.”
When the dog finally moved his arse, Adam led the way to the tavern.
He stepped inside after Sina and before the hounds. He looked around. There were two large tables and three small ones. At one of the larger tables, a few of Camlochlin’s bards reclined with their lutes and listened to the pirates sitting with them and telling them tales of the sea.
Will was not among them, but his son Duff was there, adding wood to the cool hearth.
Adam watched with Sina as Ula returned to her hearth.
“She’ll be back at yer side before too long,” he said, leaning down to his wife’s ear.
She didn’t answer but looked a bit flushed and stepped away from him.
He knew immediately that it would soon grow too warm for Sina’s arisaid. “Ye’ll need to take that off.” He motioned to her arisaid and led her to a small vacant table near an unshuttered window.
She shook her head. “I could never get all the layers right again, and the pleats—”
“I’ll do it,” he promised. He didn’t tell her why he knew how to drape a lass’s arisaid. She didn’t ask. “But if ye drink and ye’re hot, ye’ll likely pass oot, and I canna carry ye home from here.”
She nodded, and he was thankful that she hadn’t been difficult about it. Before taking her seat, she unclasped the silver buckle at her breast and the belt around her waist.
He watched, unable to do anything else while she pulled herself free of the heavy layers and exposed a tightly clad body in sapphire-blue stays and a thin, long-sleeved linen shift beneath. Her skin already glistened in the warm glow of candlelight. She breathed a sigh of relief and brushed her thick braid over the front of her shoulder.
He blinked as she sat, then raked his gaze over some of the men also watching her. He’d go a round or two with any one of them if he had to remind them whose wife she was.
“Do women come here often?” she asked, looking around just as the men averted their eyes.
“Trina’s here,” he told her across the candlelight. “They have all been here, even Aunt Maggie. We’re kin. We drink together.”
“Greetin’s, Adam.”
He looked up into Mary MacDonald’s warm brown eyes, smiled, and introduced her to Sina.
“Yer wife—” Mary looked her over with narrowed, critical eyes, then tossed him a smile. “Ye did well in marrying Adam MacGregor. He’s a fish many of us wish we had caught.”
“Ale,” Adam told her, trying to stop her before she said anything else.
Were those Sina’s teeth he just saw?
“And that will be all, Mary.” The past was over. He wasn’t the kind of man who looked back. He had other things to think about, such as if his reluctant wife was jealous.
“You don’t seem the type who can remain celibate.”
Whether she was jealous or not, Sina’s insult stung a little. “Ye would be surprised at what I can do.” Wait. He didn’t want to be celibate. “But what ye ask is…” His eyes slanted to the side in search of the right word. “’Tis unholy. Ye agreed to take me as yer husband in the sight of God.”
“I was forced,” she defended, struggling to keep her voice soft and steady.
“Ye could have refused,” he insisted just as gently. “We have Mass on Sundays if ye want to ask the priest.”
She wriggled a bit in her tightly laced stays. They were god-awful things designed to squeeze the life and size out of a lass.
“You would have a woman who hates you?”
He smiled but his eyes did more than that. “Ye dinna hate me, Sina.”
She didn’t bother denying it. How could she? She’d sought him out with Ula. She enjoyed his company…as he enjoyed hers.
“You’re really quite arrogant,” she tossed at him.
“Just observant,” he countered with an easy smile.
“Oh?” she asked, arching a golden brow. “What have you observed about me?”
He leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table. “Ye wield great control over yer emotions.” His eyes danced over her features. “Most of the time. Yer heart is steadfast and true, and though I wish it weren’t, I admire it. And, ye’re growin’ less afraid of me.”
She flashed her dimple at him and opened her mouth, then closed it again when Mary returned with their ale.
“I wasn’t afraid of you,” she corrected him when they were alone again. “Well, perhaps just a little.”
“And now?” he asked.
“Now,” she told him, pushing up her sleeves and lifting her cup to her lips, “I’m not. I cannot say the same for your dog though.”
He laughed. “Goliath will come around. He’s no’ used to there bein’ someone else important in my life.”
Her smile softened on him, making his guts hurt. He wanted to sit with her alone for the next five nights.
He noticed a jagged scar along her slender left forearm and pulled it in for closer inspection. “What is this?”
She looked as if she didn’t want to tell him, but then, with a quick glance at Goliath, she sighed and began. “When I was a child, William and I were running from some boys, and we ran straight into Lord Sunderland’s mastiff. It came at my face. I covered it with my arm.”
Adam breathed in. “A mastiff? That’s a deadly dog. How did ye escape with just this?”
“Lord Sunderland showed up and called it off. Thankfully the beast obeyed.”
Adam looked at Goliath. That was it. No more frightening her. He wanted to know more about her, despite William being a big part of her past. “Why were ye runnin’ from boys?”
“They often picked on William.”
He didn’t want to sit here scowling like a fool, but it was difficult not to. “So he ran? Why did he no’ fight them?”
“There were too many,” she defended.
“He had no brothers, no kin to help him?”
She shook her head. “Only me.”
Only her? What the hell did that mean? A wee lass with no kin of her own to protect her? Adam wanted to wring his cowardly little neck—and he might if he ever met him, which thankfully he wouldn’t.
“How could ye protect him?” he asked with anger lacing his voice.
“Most of the time I couldn’t, but I still fought at his side. That was really what he needed. Someone in his life who cared.”
How could he be angry with that? She had a compassionate heart and the courage of a hundred men.
“That’s how I became friends with Poppy.”
“How?” How could he help but smile at her?
“Poppy was friends with William’s enemies at the time. The boys had been picking on him unmercifully once again. She joined in the laughter and I punched her.”
Adam smiled, thinking of Sina kicking and screaming as he hauled her up Camlochlin’s stairs. What had happened to that part of her? Had fitting into polite society cost so much?
“We knew we would be punished for fighting,” she continued. “But I was especially terrified. My uncle’s home was in Hanover. I was only visiting the palace. I feared I would be sent home and not allowed to return. William begged Poppy not to tell. She went to my grandmother and told her that she started the brawl. We became friends after that.”
Adam was beginning to understand a bit of what Sina and William’s relationship was about. He wanted to hear more, but soon his cousin Duff joined them at the table and the conversation turned to Ula, which pleased Sina wel
l. She even laughed with Trina and Alex when the pirates joined them, bringing their rum.
It wasn’t long before several villagers arrived and they moved to the largest table.
Adam was a wee bit uncomfortable with so many in such an intimate setting and felt his defenses rising. Walls made with stones of detachment and carelessness. But soon, Sina’s laughter put him at ease.
“Amelia and I were expectin’ ye both earlier,” Edmund MacGregor complained the moment after he sat.
“As were Sarah and I,” Luke grumbled, straddling a chair to the right.
“Och, hell!” Adam blurted, feigning absentmindedness. “Fergive me fer fergettin’, lads. It has been a harried few days fer Sina and I.”
“That’s true,” Sina validated, sipping from her second cup of rum. “He’s not pretending.” She didn’t look or sound drunk, but when she smiled and winked at him, he knew she was. She seemed to be handling it well, even putting aside her cup.
“Tell us, Sina.” Adam’s brother Braigh dropped into a chair close by. “How terrible is it bein’ wed to this rogue?”
“No’ as bad as ’tis goin’ to be if ye’re his brother,” Adam warned him with a tight smirk.
“Worse than bein’ yer brother is now?” Braigh asked, then shrugged his strapping shoulders. “I doubt it.”
Adam laughed. “I know ’tis hard to measure up to me…and even to Tam, but jealousy is only poisonin’ ye, lad.”
“Ha!” Braigh tossed back his head and howled with laughter. “What have I to be jealous of besides yer bonny wife?”
“Ah, good”—Adam held up his cup—“ye like her now.”
Sina gasped and hiccupped, then turned to Braigh with large, teary eyes. “You don’t like me, Braigh?”
“What?” Braigh choked out. He stammered for a moment, as inept with his words as Tam was with his fists. He glared at Adam, who knew his weakness, and then aimed an ill-practiced smile at Sina. “Of course I like ye, lass. Adam’s just bein’ an arse.”
Adam knew Sina wasn’t likely to remember much of this tomorrow. Her eyelids were heavy, and she was sitting to the left just a bit. He smiled, taking in the shape of her nose, the alluring curve of her jaw, the way her soft golden tendrils captured the candlelight.