It was no longer about her having fun, but about him satisfying his carnal needs. He could no longer stand back, watching his new wife being paraded around without him. She was his, and it was time everyone knew it.
Stepping out of the shadows and obscurity, Theo cleared his throat. The room fell silent as every eye swiveled to him.
“Come, wife. The time has come for us to retire to bed.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Lavina?” Maisie’s low voice cut through Lavina’s terror.
She blinked, trying to regain her wits, but there was no use. The fact that all eyes had turned to her made her feel even more nervous and unsure.
“I’ve got to go now,” she whispered, giving Maisie’s hands a tight squeeze.
The anticipation of what the night would bring was nearly unbearable. Drawing closer to the Laird, she tried to keep her hands from trembling.
The last thing she wanted was to look weak. No, if she was going to come out of this marriage unscathed, she was going to have to tackle her fears head-on.
Her steps were silent compared to the sound of his boots hitting the stone underfoot.
Lavina swallowed hard, trying to keep her imagination under control, but it was too late; she’d let it go on for too long unrestrained, and now she was nearly having a panic attack.
“This isnae the way to me chambers,” she pointed out when she noticed that the tapestries weren’t the same ones she’d been admiring since she arrived.
The Laird arched an eyebrow but remained silent as he came to a stop before large double oak doors.
“These arenae yer chambers; they areourchambers,” he corrected, glancing into the room.
There was something about the way he recoiled from the open door. It was a small movement she could admit she was hyper-focused on. But the icy finger trailing down her spine didn’t encourage her to enter the dimly lit chambers.
“Our chambers?” she asked as she dared to step over the threshold.
The warm air in the room chased away the chill that threatened to overwhelm her.
“They were me parents’ chambers, but as ye can imagine, they are nay longer here to enjoy it,” the Laird explained as he pushed past her into the darkness.
Lavina tried to peer through the shadows and dim light, but caught only the outlines of objects in the room. The bed stood in the center and was flanked by two small side tables.
A flash of embers and the popping of fire made her shiver. In an instant, the room was illuminated by a rusty orange light.
Lavina’s eyes widened at the sight before her. It had to be the biggest room she had ever been in.
The ceiling was high, with thick beams supporting the thatched roof. The stone fireplace was a true marvel, with roses carved into the stone hearth.
By all accounts, the room had been fashioned with passion and love. To Lavina, it was a love letter from her husband’s father to his mother.
“If ye dinnae like it, I suppose we could redecorate me chambers,” the Laird offered as he poked at the fire, stirring more embers.
“It’s lovely,” Lavina whispered, finding herself drawn to him.
As she studied him, a single thought began to torment her.
Was this not the same man who had killed her parents? Yet there was something about him, a kindness that she wasn’t expecting.
No. She couldn’t allow herself to believe he was anything more than a murderous monster. And even monsters have families.
The Laird glanced over his shoulder at her, his gaze piercing. Lavina couldn’t help but step back when she caught the hint of desire in his gaze. The kindness she had glimpsed was gone, and the desire turned into ire.
“Surely, Me Laird, there is somewhere else I can sleep tonight. It has been a very overwhelming day, and I…”
