AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The hours between then and dinner had Harriet’s thoughts whirling with the things she had learned.
“Did you want to talk to me?” Sam asked as he came into his father’s study and closed it.
The sight of it made a memory pop up in his mind. Of Aileen tearing the marriage contract between Sam and her in a thousand pieces right at his father’s nose. She had always defied his father’s overbearing posture, he remembered amused. Much for Sam’s good-fortune, for there could be no more mismatched match in the whole of Scotland.
His father looked daggers at him. “What were you thinking bringing a paramour to this house?” Legs braced, arms crossed, he made the picture of a displeased father.
Sam turned directly to him and met his green eyes head on, determined. “She is not my paramour, she’s the love of my life.”
“If you bed her, there’s no other name for it.” Sam’s skin tinted crimson.
Despite his reaction, he did not back down an inch. “I asked her to marry me,” he threw.
His father scowled. “You what?” And strode from behind the desk where he had been.
“You heard me.” And halted three feet from his son.
“What did she say?” He asked as if all was lost.
“Refused me.” Sam had no ability to hide his pain at that.
Taran’s nostrils expelled audible air. “At least one of you is thinking with the right head.”
“I’ve loved her for years,” Sam explained, thinking his happiness should mean something to his father.
Said father raked his hair in exasperation. “Look, Sam, I know that first times can leave a…mark in us.” The baritone voice had gone into an understanding tone.
If Sam had blushed before, now he became one big tomato. “This is none of your business,” he said anyway.
“I agree, but widows are…generous. They have the right means to…ease a man’s urges,” he started. “I should have talked about these things with you before,” he vented. “Such women hold a defined role in a man’s life.”
This got Sam so furious that, were Taran not his father, he would have had a physical reaction, an aggressive physical reaction.
“Take that back,” he clipped, barely able to speak with anger blocking him.
“Excuse me?” Taran asked, his brows crumpled.
“Take it back, or I’ll leave here now and you’ll not see me again.” He had a means of surviving as a lecturer. It would not be much, but he would not starve.
Two pairs of identical eyes battled, neither giving ground. Several minutes passed without either man moving.
When his father did not speak, Sam made to leave.
“Alright,” Taran raised his hands in a sign of peace. “Alright, I take it back.”
“Better,” Sam compromised.
“I warn you this won’t last. You’ll lose interest when the novelty wears off.”
“We’ll see,” Sam answered.
“And when it does, I want you to meet the McLeod chit.” The request made bile rise anew in Sam. Did the Laird learn nothing with his own arranged marriage? Did he not choose Aileen for himself and gain a happy union?
“I’ll not allow an arranged marriage to destroy my life,” he stated firmly and walked out of the study.
Needless to say that dinner was a disaster. Every attempt at civil conversation became a dead end. Food rolled around in the plates; no one could hold the stare of another for more than one second. The atmosphere thickened with tension and malaise.
Harriet wished she could keep to her chambers until it was over and done. She did not have an opportunity to talk to Samuel, but it was clear he and his father had words. And not good ones. If only she could help, say something, do something to cool the conflict. But she thought it better not to interfere.
