Page 30 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

Ronan decided to turn the topic to something else Brenna had said. “You hunt?” He’d seen her do so that morning. He didn’t realize it was a common thing. He did wonder why she would leave the keep without her guards when, even now, they watched her from their place in the back of the hall.

“Aye. I used to go with Geordie. He enjoyed it greatly, even if I always caught more than he.” Her fond smile had returned when she spoke of the old man. Ronan realized she probably knew the man better than Ronan had. With moving to the MacPhersons as a lad and then going off to war, he hadn’t been around his grandsire much as a grown man. And he’d missed his chance.

“I caught the rabbits in this stew,” she added proudly.

“And then you helped cook it? You don’t mind helping?” Ronan couldn’t imagine his mother stepping foot in the kitchen unless she was looking for someone to scold for something she disliked.

“I enjoy it. The women who work there are good friends.”

“The rest of the clan seems to like ye.”

She shrugged and glanced at the empty seat beside him. The seat Ewan had occupied the night before. Ronan wasn’t sure where his uncle was. He would worry about it another time, for now he was getting to know the woman he was married to. Just as things were being cleared away, his wife looked toward the side door of the hall and let out an excited squeal.

“Tonight’s entertainment is my favorite. One of the mothers in the village teaches the children to sing. They are quite adorable.”

Another thing he had learned about his wife. She liked children. He’d seen how she’d bent down to speak to them as she’d entered the hall with a bright smile. And yet he’d left her childless all this time. He had been selfish, not caring who he’d hurt to do what he wished. In many ways, he was no better than his mother. Deirdre never cared about those who were inconvenienced by her requests. Shame flared on Ronan’s cheeks as the lute player strummed his instrument, and two women herded the children into somewhat of a line.

They began the first ditty about a boat. The group was sorely out of time and off-key, but Ronan understood why Brenna enjoyed it. For what the little ones lacked in talent they made up for in sheer exuberance.

His wife giggled, a slight sound of joy. When he looked over, she was squeezing her hands together at her chest as if overcome with happiness. Until she saw him watching her. She quickly straightened her posture and cleared her throat.

“They are quite excited,” he said.

“Yes. They have no care in how they sound. They are each being their own selves. How wonderful not to have such worries,” she said wistfully, and he remembered the girl galloping into the bailey on her monster horse with sticks in her hair and mud on her trews.

“I would clap if you sang with them,” he said.

She laughed and shook her head. “Nay. No one could clap with their hands covering their ears.”

She was witty, another thing he had forgotten about his wife.

Ronan found he was excited to learn everything about her, to know her as a husband should know his wife, and perhaps maybe even as a lover. She was a bonny woman; once again, he found her even more beautiful than the last time he’d seen her. His body stirred for her. It was not the usual ache he suffered when needing release; he wanted only her touch, her kiss. Her body against his. He’d stubbornly held on to his vows because it was right. But now he realized it was more than that.

He looked at her and wondered if what he saw was real or a facade crafted by a woman who traded in manipulations and lies. And a pretty smile and a twinkling eye could bring a man to his knees if he wasn’t careful.

***

Brenna couldn’t fathom the change in the man to her side.

Her husband had been horrid the night before until he’d joined her in their chamber. Tonight, he was the doting husband, asking her questions as if he wanted to know her better and how she thought of things. When he wasn’t asking questions outright, he was watching her, perhaps learning more of her in that way than she realized. And all the while, she watched him as well. When his attention was pulled in a different direction, she stole glances, taking in his straight white teeth and how his smile hinted at a bit of mischief.

But she wasn’t the only one watching the new laird. The warriors watched him with a narrowed gaze. And the serving maids cast alluring looks as they filled his cup more than necessary.

Brenna fought off the instinct to growl at them when they came near. She felt like a wild animal protecting its mate from intruders. How silly. She had no claim on him. Yes, they were married, but that meant little to him as he’d fled as soon as he’d had the chance.

Pushing away the bitter memories, she clapped loudly when the children finished and scattered to sit with their families, each accepting a hug and kiss from a proud parent.

“Thank you for your company this evening,” she said, wanting Ronan to know how much she preferred this treatment than that of the night before. “I believe I shall retire to bed.”

“I will join you. I fear despite sleeping late this morning, I’m still recovering from my journey.”

She nodded, silently communicating she welcomed him to join her. “Will you tell me about it?” she asked as she walked beside him to their chamber. Her guards hopped up from their seats as soon as she’d stood, but Ronan held up a hand to stay them.

Even at that order, they glanced at her for her approval.

She gave what she hoped was a subtle nod, letting them know she was okay. It wouldn’t do for the laird to see his men obey his wife over his orders. Silent or not.

As they entered the room, he was chatting about how flat the land was beyond the highlands. She couldn’t imagine such a sight, having spent all her days surrounded by mountains and hills. Having realized they were in the room alone, they both fell into a heavy silence. Her earlier courage deserted her, and she could not look him in the eye.

How was she to change with him in the room? She could manage her gown but used the excuse of needing to call a maid, hoping he would give her that moment alone. Instead, he offered his aid. She couldn’t catch her breath as she shook her head. She couldn’t allow him to help her out of her clothes.

She remembered their only night together when he’d done just that. Her cheeks went aflame as other memories came unbidden to her mind then. His kisses. The way he’d nipped the flesh on her neck. His rapid breaths near her ear and the other sounds he’d made. The words he’d said that made her feel cherished. But it hadn’t been true.

As if icy loch water had been tossed on her, she remembered the chill of waking the next day alone and finding he’d left. The stares and cruel jokes. “She must have been a fright in his bed. She scared the laird’s heir clean to France.”

Standing tall with her indignation wrapped around her, she shook her head. “I do not require assistance from you.” Her words sounded crisp and shrewish. Good. Let him know she had no interest in him in that way. She might be unable to keep him from taking his husbandly rights, whether he’d earned them or not, but she would make it clear she did not welcome his attentions.

The pain this man had caused her would never be forgotten nor forgiven. A few smiles and a bit of kindness could not erase the hurt.