“I am not Lord Kirkston to ye. I am yer feckin’ husband. Ye may call me Duncan, dearest, or arsehole, but dinna address me as Lord Kirkston.” She had to understand that he was only doing what was best for them both.
With a snort of disdain that clearly said she had little time for him, she returned her attention to whatever was outside the window.
“My love for ye will never change. Someday, ye will see this is for the best.”
“I am not a child. Do not speak to me in such a manner.”
“Ye are my wife.”
“In name only.” She leveled a hard gaze upon him, a look filled with such fury it made him swallow hard. “As I informed you last night, you will not come to my bed ever again—not until you are willing to embrace the joy life has to offer and give yourself to me fully. I do not do anything halfway, husband. You would be wise to remember that about me.” She jutted her chin higher. “If you do not like that arrangement, I suggest you seek an annulment and find another wife.”
“An annulment?” His blood ran cold.
“Yes, I assume you are familiar with the term?”
“Is that what ye wish?”
“No. I want the man I fell in love with to reconsider the fraud he foisted upon me.”
“Fraud?”
“Yes. Fraud. I married you with the understanding that, God willing, someday we would have children. You knew that, and yet you kept your absurd opinion on the matter to yourself until we had already taken our vows. Fraud. Plain and simple.”
Her unjust understanding of the matter surged through him like an uncontrollable blaze. “Myopinionis not absurd. I am keeping you safe. Keeping you alive.”
She pursed her lips, eyeing him with a thoughtfulness that warned he had met his match in stubbornness. “Carriages are dangerous, yet you allow me to ride in one.” She casually flipped a hand in the air. “Eating and drinking are dangerous. I could choke to death, and yet you allow me to eat and drink.”
“Ye are being ridiculous and hysterical.”
“I am being logical, and you know it.” She gave him a curt nod. “Life is dangerous. All we can do is live each day to the fullest and enjoy it until we die.” She snorted again. “If you live in fear, you do not live at all.”
Damn and blast.Perhaps he should ride atop with Angus. ’Twouldbe a damn sight safer. “I swore to protect ye.”
“And yet you struck a mortal blow to my heart by deceiving me.” She huffed a deep sigh and looked away, fixing her focus on that infernal window yet again. “You are the one being ridiculous and hysterical.”
“I canna bear to lose ye.”
“I am not some exotic insect meant to be kept pinned to a board for safekeeping, stored away in a cabinet of curiosities to be brought out and shown at dinner parties.” With another disgruntled huff, she slowly shook her head. “I know your history, Duncan. Your mother and brother told me of your misery, your losses. Can you not see that you are giving your power to the demons of your past? Handing them your opportunities? Relinquishing your life to them?”
“I canna bear to lose ye,” he whispered. It was all he knew to say.
“Then it appears we are at an impasse.” She studied him, sorrow in her eyes. “I was honest with you. You knew my wishes, and yet you remained silent about your fears until it was too late because you intended to force my hand, force me into living as you deemed fit.” With a faint smile that held nothing but sadness, she continued, “Well, you succeeded. I will never know the joy of holding my own child, our child, in my arms. I will be safe. Childless. And unhappy. Congratulations, you protected me from my sweetest dream.” Then she sat straighter, stiffening her spine. “But as I have made quite clear, you are not welcome to touch me ever again. You made a mockery of the consummation of our vows. I will not be mocked again and forced to watch my dreams spill onto the bedsheets each time you decide you need some carnal relief.”
“Dinna speak like that, about what we had that way.” Duncan reached for her hand, then halted as she jerked it out of his reach. “Ye must try to understand. Try, Merry, I beg ye.”
“I cannot.”
Duncan thumped the roof of the carriage. He couldn’t bear anothermoment in this torturous trap that was squeezing the life from his heart and soul. As soon as it slowed to a stop, he kicked open the door, jumped out, then slammed it shut, cursing when the effort sent a jolt of pain through his arm.
“Shove over,” he told Angus as he climbed up to sit beside him.
Arching his wild eyebrows nearly to his hairline, Angus did as he was told. “Would ye care to drive, my lord?”
“No. All I care for is peace and quiet.”
“Aye, my lord. Understood.”
*
