Her heart fluttered, and she tore her eyes away from his piercing gaze.
Maisie wouldn’t be permitted to step up to the altar. And without her, Lavina wasn’t sure she could make it on her own.
“I love ye, Sister,” Maisie said softly. Then, she let go.
Lavina clutched at her, but Maisie gave her a gentle shove, forcing her to step forward.
With a pounding heart and a lump in her throat, Lavina moved toward Theo and the priest.
“Well, dinnae ye clean up nicely,” Theo noted in a hushed tone as she approached.
Lavina nodded nervously, unable to speak or move. She felt as though she’d stepped out of her body the moment he took her hand.
The priest droned on in the background, giving her prompts. Somehow, she managed to follow them.
It wasn’t until Theo gave her arm a gentle tug that she snapped herself back to the moment. Blinking, she found him leaning in, his lips only a hairsbreadth from her own. She held her breath as he brushed her lips with his own.
The kiss was soft, barely there, but it sent a prickle of shame and heat through her chest and cheeks.
It ended before it began.
Theo pulled her to his side, his large hand resting on her waist. Possessive but gentle. His gaze met hers, and she saw it—the brooding, the longing. He had felt it too, that spark.
Lavina turned quickly and glanced at Maisie, fighting back the wave of emotions crashing over her.
“Well now, that wasnae so bad,” Theo said as he led her out of the kirk. “Ye’ve kept yer end of the bargain. I swear to ye, I will keep mine.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Theo leaned back in his chair, his belly full. For the first time in a long while, he was content. Cannonballs could’ve barreled through the gray stone walls, knocking down everything in their path, and he wouldn’t have cared.
He glanced over at his new wife. She seemed a bit flustered, picking bits of chicken off her plate. He pressed his lips into a tight line. From the way her brow creased and her mouth tightened, it was clear she found fault in every little thing, even the seasoning.
He waited, debating whether to open his mouth and say something. But for the moment, he was content. And he didn’t want to trigger her ire.
“I can feel ye lookin’ at me,” Lavina snapped, jerking her head around to glare at him.
Theo arched an eyebrow, trying not to betray his fascination with her. She was absolutely stunning. Her blonde curls fell over her neck like tall golden grass swaying in a summer field.
“Perhaps I was,” Theo relented. “I was debatin’ whether or nae to ask if ye were enjoyin’ yerself. But judgin’ by the look on yer face, I reckon I dinnae need to waste me time.”
He placed his napkin neatly beside his plate and pushed back his chair. Folding his arms over his lap, he studied her.
Though he had a lifetime to get to know her, he was in no mood to hear her complaints—not with Councilman Bosely’s laughter echoing through the hall.
There was always pressure to perform under the council’s watch, as if he were some beast on display. It was bad enough that people stared at him because of his scars, the ones that raked down his face as if he’d been mauled by a wild creature. But now, the whispers had shifted to something far more private—his marriage.
“Alright then, out with it,” Theo sighed. “What’s yer complaint?”
“Do ye nae have any family?” Lavina asked bluntly, pushing her plate aside and leaning on her elbow. Her gaze was sharp, her tone confrontational.
Theo straightened in his chair, his eyes flicking to Amber. “She’s right there. Did ye nae see her?” he asked dryly. “I cannae blameye. The child doesnae speak. I wager ye could sit on her, and she’d still nae say a word.”
His voice carried a trace of sarcasm. But in truth, he pitied the girl. He wished he could coax her to speak, to smile. But children didn’t take kindly to him, not with the old battle scars that marred his face.
“Ye dinnae need to be so harsh with her. She’s sittin’ right here,” Lavina pointed out.
“Aye, and maybe if she’d speak up, I wouldnae tease her.”
