Which made it all the worse when she remembered Rhona’s story and the fact she kept secrets from him.
‘How is he faring?’
Rory chuckled. ‘He asked about the bruises. I told him I didn’t know where they came from.’
‘He believed you?’
‘No, we’ve known each other too long, butI won’t be telling that story until we are well drunk and years have gone by.’
None in the room told of what Mary had confessed to. That Hamish had given the order. What it would have taken for Mary to lace the goblet knowing the harm she could do... Ailsa couldn’t comprehend it. As for then turning the poison on to Hamish, Frederick couldn’t fault her. It aided his proposal of marriage between the clans. Further, it protected his daughter and her new husband.
Knowing that it was her father Mary had intended to harm, Ailsa tried to find some vengeful emotion within her. Her father was very dear to her, but Mary was broken, and her remorse so great, that even if Ailsa rained down all the wrath she had on Mary, she could do no worse than what Mary was putting herself through.
As for her father, he’d had a discussion in private with the servant. What was said, Ailsa didn’t know, but some understanding was between them now and she left it alone.
‘Here we are with the whole evening ahead of us,’ she said, enjoying the dusty scent of him. Knowing that soon he’d wash the day away, and then it would be just them. ‘Because I told my father he needed his rest.’
Rory gave her a wolfish smile. ‘Truly?’
She nodded. ‘He looks tired, but I didn’t know if he’d do it.’
‘Well, he decided to so...’ Rory stroked down her arms and back up again ‘...we can work on giving him grandchildren sooner rather than later.’
Ailsa felt her skin flush. Even after all the nights they spent together, each of them with very little sleep, she couldn’t believe her good fortune that this man was her husband.
And yet... ‘With Paiden mending, you’ll be able to return home soon.’
Rory’s arms dropped. ‘Home?’
And here was the other matter. So much shared between them, but not Rory’s past or his future. He was the acknowledged son of Lochmore’s Chief and that was something they could not avoid much longer.
As much as she wanted to stay in his arms, to while away the night as they had been doing, there were some matters that needed to be discussed. Ailsa strode to the bed and sat down.
‘We’re married,’ she said.
Rory moved to a chair to unlace his shoes. ‘For some days now.’
One lace, then the other as she gathered her courage for what she needed to say. ‘I knowof the letters to your family. I know you wrote them...but they weren’t returned.’
Rory threw his shoes in a corner, the heavy clunk sounded with finality. ‘My family is complicated, Ailsa.’
‘Any more than mine?’
He stood to unhook his belt, to remove his trousers. She waited patiently, knowing when he finished this task, he’d go to the water basin warmed by the fire and clean the dust away as he had done every night.
She waited, knowing these tasks were necessary for Rory as he thought about her question. After all, he obviously never intended to talk to her about his family.
But then he ripped his tunic up and over his head and her thoughts turned from Rory and his past to just...him. The sunlight was dimming and the firelight was taking over their room. His body carried many scars and many more bruises, recent ones from training his men, yet she’d never known anything more magnificent. Except maybe the way he made her feel when he... ‘Are you trying to tempt me?’
‘Perhaps.’
She wouldn’t answer him. She couldn’t as she watched the way he strode to the basin.
‘You’re being quiet for you,’ he said.
‘Just being patient. I’m on the bed and you like your sleep. You can’t avoid me or my questions for ever.’
A rough exhalation. ‘I don’t want to.’
