‘Take off your gown.’
His voice was no more than an order and with a tone she imagined he gave to his men when in training.
Ailsa had heard his voice in its many tones. The negotiator when he agreed to the land and to her. The wrathful warrior when he thought his friend was irreparably harmed. And when he said his vows, his voice resonated throughout the chapel. It had sounded as though he meant them.
Had that been less than an hour ago? Everything had happened so quickly. Her father and two Lochmores had been standing outside the door when they emerged from Paiden’s room and announced that they would marry that very night.
Her father had looked relieved, the Lochmoressurprised. She was properly dressed, but had been alone with him. If Rory hadn’t announced it, her father would have forced the issue.
Oh, to be not at the whim of men and customs! But even men were at the whim of those higher than them. Lochmores and McCrieffs were together because of a king’s decree. But that did no good now.
Not for her, the wife of a Lochmore.ThisLochmore who was full of concern and wrath because his friend was poisoned and would not wake. There was no trust between them. She knew it in every part of her being. A marriage for peace this was not. The most she could do now was to ensure her clan did not lose any more to King Edward.
Still, she did not bend to any man. ‘And so I’m to simply take off my gown. No polite conversation, no offers of ale?’
A muscle clenched in his jaw. ‘What more is there to say between you and me?’
‘We could talk about tonight...exchange pleasantries.’
‘You want to talk of the weather or perhaps leeks?’
Impossible night. She’d always done her duty to her father, to the clan. By marrying this man, she’d done it again. But maybe she should havestayed selfish. Maybe her first instinct to run out of the room was correct.
Her friend had died years before. Crushed under Lochmores’ hooves. Just months ago, a skirmish occurred and two McCrieffs died. Now she had married one?
‘Is it so wrong to ask you to be pleasant?’ she said.
A rough exhalation. ‘I did not thank you for requesting the return of our swords.’
He wasn’t thanking her now.
Maybe this was how marriage nights went when a man from an enemy clan came to conquer land and married to gain more instead. Except, she’d seen a different side to this man. Was that man now gone because his friend might die? If so, for her it did not matter. She would not be treated so callously. He spoke to her as if she was a nuisance, a chore. She would not stand for it.
‘If you are a reasonable man, you will understand I will not take off my gown. I will not be raped.’
They stood in her room that seemed so much smaller with his presence, though he wasn’t looking at her, nor did he seem to be taking in the room that she once prided herself on. Instead, the moment the door closed and locked them he began pacing from one end to the other.His movements were of a caged animal as he demanded that she strip as though it was chore he needed hastily over with.
A part of her understood that caged feeling. For she herself was forced into this predicament. She was never asked to marry, there were no soft words of love between them. Her father had negotiated her as if she were of no more consequence than sheep. And, yes, her father did have control over her and, if she married, her husband as well. But she was more than property and whatever she wanted of her marriage would begin here.
‘Do you think a gown would hinder a rape?’ he said.
She did not know this man, but she recognised his anger. If he still suspected and hated her for his friend’s health, why did he continue with this marriage? Ailsa could only come to one conclusion: this was, as she first said, a political alliance. She came with land and a title. His friend’s life didn’t alter that. He might resent that it was she who came with such a price, he might hate her if Paiden died, but he was a Lochmore, his father’s son, and so he did his duty.
But she refused to be a duty and he needed to stop walking away and turning his back to her. ‘A gown wouldn’t stop a rape, but it’s a far cry from a willing woman,’ she said.
‘Do you think of yourself as unwilling, Wife?’
There was no possibility to feel like a wife. He had arrived this very day and was still her enemy though her father forced her to see reason. Even with such a logical decision and agreement to save her clan, Ailsa could think of no diplomatic reply. As for unwilling or willing...
Rory must have seen her indecision for his upper lip curved sardonically. ‘That’s what I thought. We both know what must occur tonight. Take off your gown.’
She wouldn’t. Not because she had some fanciful dreams of what her wedding night would be, but because she was worth more than this.
‘You first,’ she replied.
That stopped his frustrating pacing. ‘What did you say?’
Wanting him to stop his pacing and look at her and him turning to her were two different things. Now she felt pinned by his gaze. No heat, no warmth. It wasn’t restlessness that caused his curt words. He was angry. Still. Despite the fact she’d agreed to the marriage and saved his friend with a blade pricking her neck.
