His fear gave way to surprise and no little irritation.
“Olivia, what the hell are ye doin’ out here at this hour?” he demanded, frowning as he strode up to her, shocked to see that she was only wearing a nightgown beneath her fur cloak and delicate slippers.
A sudden gust of wind blew her cloak aside at that moment and plastered her thin nightdress to her body. His irritation drained away, and his ardor stirred as he caught a tantalizing glimpse of two pert, shapely breasts, a slender waist, and long legs. He stared, drinking it all in, the heat of lust licking through him.
The thought flashed across his mind that he could seize her there and then and have his way with her. She was his wife, after all. What better way to banish the lingering shreds of his nightmare?
He crushed the impulse when she suddenly drew her cloak around her, and he knew then that she had noticed him staring. His gaze flicked to her face, and even in the moonlit darkness, he could see her blushing. That excited him even more.
“What are ye doin’ out here?” he repeated, injecting disapproval into his voice to hide his lustful thoughts. “Ye shouldnae be wanderin’ around the castle at night in yer nightgown like that.”
“I could ask what ye’re doin’ out here,” she countered calmly.
He hesitated.
Shall I tell her about the nightmares? Nay. She’ll think me weak or mad and despise me. And it wouldnae be fair to burden her. Besides, she’ll only want to ken what they’re about, and I’m nae tellin’ her that!
“I’m the Laird. I can go wherever I wish, whenever I wish in me own castle,” he answered gruffly. “Now, come on, what are ye doin’ out here? Ye shouldnae be wanderin’ around the castle at night in yer nightgown like that.”
Olivia’s slim eyebrows drew together. “Why do ye keep askin’ me? ’Tis none of yer business what I do,” she retorted testily.
That took him aback.
“None of me business? But I’m yer husband, remember?”
“And I’m yer wife, and a husband would open up to his wife and nae demand answers from her that he’s unwillin’ to give himself,” she replied with a pointed look.
Before he could think of a reply, she said, “Good night,” then turned on her heel and disappeared through the arched entrance leading back inside the tower.
He remained standing there, letting the cold wind whip at him while he stared after her, stunned by her logic.
“Dinnae go roamin’ about the castle in yer nightdress like that again,” he called after her imperiously, to make up for the feeling that she had the upper hand.
He listened to her tripping lightly down the stone steps in her little slippers until the sound faded. Then, he leaned on the parapet and sighed, staring out at the darkened countryside, realizing he had no real defense against her argument.
Because he knew she was right.
The following day, Olivia was in her chamber, seated at her writing desk, writing a letter to her younger sister Eileen which contained an invitation to come and stay at the castle for the St. Patrick’s Day celebrations. However, her focus kept straying from what she was writing to Edan and what had happened between them on the battlements the previous night.
She, too, had a restless night and sought fresh air to clear her head. It had been a shock when he had come upon her like that by the battlements. And it seemed strange that it was him who appeared because he was the very reason she had decided to shun her bed and take a walk in the first place. She was so preoccupied with trying to puzzle out the enigma that was her husband that sleep had proved as impossible as he was.
To her mind, there seemed to be two men inhabiting the same body. One was cold, gruff, rude, and looked at her body with such wolfish hunger at times that it scared her. The other was good-humored, generous, thoughtful, and funny, and when he kissed her, she felt like the most desired woman in the world.
However, these two conflicting personalities had one thing in common. Neither would tell her anything, and that was what really troubled her. The truth of this had been borne out during their short conversation on the battlements.
“What are ye doin’ out here?”he had demanded.
Ruffled by his peremptory tone, she had fired his question back at him to see if he would at last open up to her. She had harbored a little hope in her heart that, this time, it would be different, that he would share his thoughts with her and make a genuine connection. But he had shut her down yet again. Her hope had shriveled and died. Disappointed and annoyed, she had left. But the frustration still lingered.
It doesnae bode well for a marriage.How will I get to ken him if he will never open up and tell me what he’s thinkin’?
“How are ye gettin’ on with yer letter, Me Lady? I’ll take it down for the post as soon as ye’re done,” Megan asked, breaking into Olivia’s thoughts.
The maid had been bustling about the chamber, putting away clean laundry. Now that she had finished, she came to stand next to Olivia, her hands on her hips.
“Och, I’m nae quite finished yet, I’m afraid, Megan,” Olivia confessed, trying to put her worries about Edan out of her mind and apply herself to her task.
“Never mind. There’s plenty of time until the mail coach goes. Do ye ken, I’m lookin’ forward to meetin’ yer sister. She’ll be nice company.”
