“Ye had enough on yer minds. And, as long as I was with Cody or at home, he did nothin’ but write me letters.”
Anger surged through Arthur. He wondered for the briefest of moments how the woman he had come to respect and care for so deeply over the last couple of days could have been so stupid.
How could she have not told her family? Especially when someone had been following her every move.
But a quick glance at the faces around him told him that he was not the only one feeling that way. And he would not pile that onto her.
“It nay longer matters why ye didnae tell them,” he said.
Marissa’s eyes flicked to his, bright with relief as he continued speaking.
“I think we all ken by now that nae tellin’ ye all was a mistake. But we cannae change the past. And if he tries to do anythin’ else movin’ forward…” A dark laugh pulled itself from deep within his throat as savage delight rushed through him. “Well, I would love to take me time showin’ him exactly what happens to people who try to take what is mine.”
Freya and Michael both nodded. Abigail clenched her jaw, but said nothing.
After a few moments, they all agreed that they should retire to their chambers for the evening. There would be much to discuss come morning, and they could all do with a little rest.
Arthur extended his arm toward Marissa as everyone filed down the corridors that led to their chambers.
“Why did ye defend me?” Marissa asked hesitantly, once everyone had left. “I could tell by the look on yer face that ye agreed with them, that ye thought me nae tellin’ them about Eric’s continued advances was daft. But ye still defended me.”
Arthur stared at her, his arm still extended.
“Because ye’re goin’ to be me wife,” he said simply. “And I meant what I said. What’s done cannae be undone. And whether this Eric likes it or nae, whether yer family likes it or nae, ye are mine to protect now. And they willnae be gettin’ to ye anytime soon. So there was nay use harpin’ on about it.”
She sighed, some of the tension seeming to leave her shoulders, before accepting his arm. He guided her through the empty halls toward their bedchamber, and with each step, he could feel more and more of the tension leaving her.
“Ye were goin’ to say somethin’ else,” Marissa said, just as they arrived at the door to their chambers.
The door gave a loud creak as Arthur pushed it open before stepping aside, allowing her to enter first.
“When was I goin’ to say somethin’ else?” he asked when they were tucked safely within the walls of their room, the door firmly shut behind them.
It was dim. The fire in the hearth had clearly been lit some time ago, dwindling now to a weak, dull flame. Arthur strode forward, grabbing logs from the basket beside the fireplace and adding them to it.
He focused on coaxing the fire back to life as Marissa continued to speak.
“When we were walkin’ away from the cèilidh,” she explained. “Ye were tellin’ me about Joseph and how he ended up in yer life. And ye looked like ye were goin’ to tell me somethin’ else, right before the knife came flyin’ at us.”
Arthur paused. The entire time Marissa had been speaking, he could hear her moving about the room. The swish of fabric and the rustle of her skirts conjured images of her slowly undressing.
“It is nothin’ that cannae be said another day,” he answered honestly.
He had been about to tell her something, that much was true. But it was something he had never told another living soul. And, truthfully, it was something he was too tired to delve into at that moment.
The fire gave a loud pop as the new logs caught flame, the heat and light growing before he rose to his feet. Turning to face the rest of the room, he found Marissa standing near the threshold.
The sight of her made his mouth go dry.
Marissa had shed the many layers of her dress, leaving her in nothing but the linen shift beneath. She’d tugged her hair out of her braids, leaving it wild and falling around her face.
“I still cannae believe he sent someone after me.”
Her words were hesitant, filled with all the fear Arthur was certain had been coursing through her all night. They were like cold water splashed over his desire.
“I’ll protect ye,” he said, holding her gaze and willing her to believe him. “I willnae let anyone hurt ye. I didnae let the manthat Eric sent hurt ye. And if he sends a thousand, nae a single one of them will be able to harm so much as a hair on that bonnie head of yers.”
He walked forward as he spoke. With every step he took toward her, her eyes seemed to darken.
