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“Have I strayed since our betrothal?”
The tilt of her head made strands of her glorious hair fall over one shoulder, and he longed to bury his face in it. “No, but we had a ruse to put forth.”
“And you think it’s the only reason?” Did she not see he had no will to pay attention to other women?
“Of course, what else?”
“How about loyalty to you and your clan?”
“I’m grateful for that, yet it doesn’t play a role since you’ve become The Darroch,” she debated.
“By marrying you” Harris would not have posed the abdication solution were it not for their alliance.
“A marriage you never planned for your life,” she reiterated.
“No, but here we are in any case.” His tolerance by a thread, his fists went to his hips.
“Still…” she trailed off, the word pregnant with underlying arguments.
“Ask me why I wrote marriage off my life,” he demanded.
Her hazel globes glared at him in a clear question.
“Because, if I was to marry, I’d follow the rules.” His coffee eyes clasped firmly on hers. “Fidelity is one, I believe.”
“And you did not want to follow the rules, I gather.”
“As a bachelor, no I didn’t,” he confirmed. “But I’m not that anymore.”
“You were forced to marry me because of the rumours,” her insistence was getting to him.
“I proposed, remember?” One octave louder, his voice came obdurate.
“No, you didn’t. You presented it as a practical solution,” she rebutted.
“I wouldn’t have if I didn’t intend to walk the line.” His hand raked his hair, his self-control wavering.
Her arms crossed over her tartan as she inhaled deeply. “Look,” she said appearing to muster endurance. “You won’t walk the line, there are too many women swarming around you. One day you’ll fall for one.”
A humourless laugh breathed out of him. “Your high regard for me is uplifting,” he taunted.
“Men are bound to be unfaithful,” she replied.
Air expelled from him. “If you think like that, there’s nothing else to say.”
Her riotous hair fell on her face when she shook her head. “Except separate lives are better for both.”
A dry nod preceded his answer. “Fine.” And he turned on his heels to go back to the master chamber.
Moira watched the empty space in front of her. Her breath caught in her throat; it burned to release a scream. Hurt spread through every inch of her heart. She felt she was splitting in two, her head to one side, her heart to the other. Her mind told her it was more advisable to put distance between them now than having to deal with the pain added to the estrangement when he fatally took mistresses. But inwardly, she bled with it anyway. Her emotions could not seem to accept the pragmatic solution beforehand. Even at that minute, she had the urge to run to his chamber and say it had been a mistake, that she did not wish them apart ever. She would even beg if need be.
Her head won, and she forced her legs to stay where they were, barely supporting her miserable state. She fought the threatening tears that nearly chocked her. Crying would take her nowhere.
For a few minutes she indulged in this hollow moment. When she felt more in control, she raised her chin resolutely and headed to the study where she had piles of work to do.
Lachlan, on the other hand, paced his chamber like a caged animal, about to wear a hole in the threadbare carpet. He seethed. How dare that infernal wife of his presume to predict his actions? Presume to judge and condemn him without a crime committed. An impulse to punch the wall, the chest of drawers, the window came so pressing he nearly thrashed this whole chamber. Only a thin thread of clear mind prevented him from doing it.
Not that he did not make mistakes, not that he had not had trysts. He did, quite freely, if he must be frank. A reputation built on it. Nothing to do about the fact, news travelled fast in the Highlands. But he became a married man, and he had no intention, or the will, to go astray. He did not think his previous explorations would be an issue with Moira. Though she indicated that it did not present him as an eligible match. Everything he told her was true. Since fidelity had not been in his list of chores, he relegated tying the knot for far, very far into the future. Not because he possessed a problem with the institution, but because he did not feel ready for it.
