Flynn gathered the cards slowly. “Melissa Arianna is very strong,” he said thoughtfully.
Ian gave a dry huff of agreement. “Strong and stubborn?” he muttered. “That woman could out-argue a council.”
Flynn chuckled. “Melissa says she admires her for it,” he replied. “Though I suspect she’s glad she doesnae have to live with such fire every day from me.”
Ian leaned forward and poured another measure of whisky for them both. “Arianna thinks I married her to betray her family,” he said quietly.
Flynn’s brows lifted. “Does she now?”
“Aye,” Ian muttered, tossing the whisky back in one swallow. “And nay matter how many times I tell her I kent nothin' of that damned clause, she refuses to believe me. I’ve told her the truth from the beginnin'. She looks at me like I’ve betrayed her,” he said more quietly. “Like everythin' between us was a lie. I cannae bear it.”
Flynn said nothing for a moment. Then he sighed. “Women are complicated creatures,” he said wisely.
Ian barked a humorless laugh. “That’s the most useful advice ye’ve offered all night.”
Flynn grinned. “Yet it’s still true.”
The two men finished their final round in relative silence, the cards falling onto the table with dull thuds. Eventually, Flynn pushed his chair back and stretched his arms.
“I’m off to bed before I lose the rest of me dignity,” he muttered.
Ian nodded tiredly. “Aye.”
Flynn headed toward the door. “Perhaps ye should try speakin' to yer wife again,” he said over his shoulder.
Ian grunted. “We’ve done enough speakin'.”
Once Flynn left, the chamber fell quiet again. Ian remained seated for a long moment before finally standing. The whisky swayed gently in his head as he stepped into the corridor, the cool stone air sobering him slightly. His feet carried him down the hallway without much thought.
Soon, he found himself standing in front of Arianna’s door. Ian stared at the wood quietly. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her that he had never intended harm to her family. That he had begun searching for a way to destroy the cursed clause entirely. That the last thing he ever wished was to see mistrust in her eyes.
Slowly, he lifted his hand toward the door. His knuckles hovered inches from the wood. He hesitated. A long moment passed.
Then he lowered his hand again with a quiet sigh. “Another argument would do neither of us any good tonight,” he muttered to himself.
Turning away, Ian walked slowly down the corridor. The castle seemed especially quiet at this hour, as he returned to his own chamber.
He removed his boots and coat before collapsing heavily onto the bed. Sleep claimed him quickly. He never knew that while he slept, Arianna had already ridden into the dark beyond the castle walls.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The next morning, Ian strode down the corridor toward Arianna’s chamber. The events of the previous night lingered faintly in his mind, though the whisky had long since worn away. He paused before her door and knocked firmly with his knuckles. When no answer came, he assumed she was still asleep.
“Arianna?” he called through the wood. Silence greeted him.
He hesitated a moment before pushing the door open carefully and stepping inside. The chamber was quiet, the bedcovers rumpled but empty. Ian frowned as his gaze moved across the room, a strange unease stirring in his chest.
Her small rabbit sat near the hearth, nibbling lazily on a scrap of cabbage. Ian stepped farther into the room, scanning the chamber again as if she might suddenly appear from behind a screen or doorway. His gaze fell upon parchment resting on the table. He picked it up. It read,Melissa please feed the bunny.
Ian stared at the note for a long moment. A faint knot of confusion tightened in his stomach.
Why would Arianna leave such a message?
He turned quickly and left the chamber.
Moments later, he spotted Melissa in the corridor carrying a basket of linens. The young woman curtsied politely when she saw him approaching, though his expression made her hesitate.
“Good morning, me Laird,” Melissa said carefully.
