AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As Lachlan and Emily continued to talk, her smile became even more dazzling while she went up on her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek.
The gesture erupted a whole volcano of bile in Moira. Enough to choke her for the rest of her life. Her lungs burned, her stomach churned, nausea a second away from becoming a retch.
So much for believing she and Lachlan had a good marri
age.
They had not seen her yet, fortunately. Her back turned on them, and she retreated to the cluster of trees, taking the opposite direction. Walking relieved the pressure inside though not the feelings.
It would always be like this, she concluded disgruntled, it came with the territory. As the wife of a too handsome husband, she would perpetually witness women trying their luck with him. As they aged, he would have access to younger lasses. He would age marvellously, no doubt. No man resisted younger women why would Lachlan? Now he held the Laird’s position, one more allure to his already potent appeal. The fact disheartened her, making her think she must protect herself from this before it was too late. She had a fair idea she would not be immune to him, ever. But she could put distance between them and try to neutralise how he made her feel; how the sight of him with other women made her feel.
With that purpose in mind, she returned to the manor.
The day’s toil had been intense. Upon entering the manor late afternoon, Lachlan requested a bath and headed to the master chamber. The one he would make clear to the servants he would share with his wife. They were sleeping in the same bed since the wedding, there was no reason to change it with the moving of chambers.
Two footmen cleared the bath when Lachlan heard movement in the adjoining chamber. Striding to the connecting door, he pulled it. And found his wife sitting at the escritoire he saw in her previous chamber bent over a ledger. She did not acknowledge his presence.
“What are you doing there?” he asked, intrigued by her constricted posture.
She took a moment to move from her reading position. He waited. After what seemed long minutes, she lifted her head to him. What he saw in her features froze him to the spot. Unsmilingly, she looked at him with cold eyes, her spine so rigid it might snap at any second.
“This is the lady’s chamber.” Her matter-of-fact tone did something to his guts. She stated the obvious though the remoteness of her gave it a completely different meaning.
“You’re sharing mine,” he commanded. “This one can be your dressing room, if you prefer.” The notion of not spending the night with her strained him. Nights were the only time they could be together by themselves.
Her spine went even straighter. “No, I don’t prefer it,” she answered. “In fact, we’re not sharing anything anymore.”
He glared at her with a confused scowl. “What’s the meaning of this?” He advanced inside and closed the connecting door.
That delicate chin raised a notch. “It’s better for us to lead separate lives.”
Halting right before the escritoire, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Better for whom?”
Hazel gaze travelled from his abs up his chest, his stubble to clasp on his, heating him. “Both,” she retorted.
“You’ve decided what’s better for me as well,” he challenged.
At that, she seemed a tad embarrassed. “You’ll come to the same conclusion, I’m sure.”
Her frame too tense as she sat on her chair, her breathing hardly there, that delicate face stone-set. “What’s bothering you, Moira?” he shot close range.
Her irises widened as if that came unexpectedly. Restlessly, she sprang from the chair to pace to the window. Several seconds passed before she deigned to turn to him, her expression even more reserved.
“I saw you this morning with Emily,” she said as tonelessly as if she recited the numbers on the ledger.
Lachlan remembered the chit who would not stop talking so he could go on his way. She had found a way to kiss him of the cheek, which had annoyed him. He labelled such an invasion as repugnant, to be sure.
“I could not leave the daughter of the most important chieftain in the clan speaking to the birds and walk away, could I?” Lachlan did not understand her reaction to the episode. He barely had the patience for the girl’s chit-chat.
“I don’t think so,” she agreed. “But this will be the first of many.”
“Your point?” he asked progressively more confounded with this conversation.
“You’ll stray eventually,” she threw.
The remark angered him for the lack of trust it bared. “How do you know that, pray tell?” he growled.
“When it comes to women, your attention span has always been short,” her chin notched higher, her eyes defying him to deny it.
