Page 22 of The Lass and the Laird

“I wish to go home. I need to see about Lily.”

“Your maid was sent for, if that’s who you refer to. She should arrive shortly. You cannot leave. Your brother will not return for at least a week.”

It was hard to ignore his well-built form as he went to the doorway and spoke to someone. Her eyes raked from his broad back to his taut bottom and, lastly, to his well-formed legs. If she were to remain in Moriag, it wouldn’t be long before he’d grace her bed.

“Is this to be my chamber then?” She looked to see a large trunk at the foot of the bed and a sizeable wardrobe against a far wall. “It’s quite nice.”

“This is where you will remain from now forth. It is my chamber.”

“You plan to sleep here?” She swallowed at the thought of spending so many nights with someone not her husband. Yes, she’d been with him before, but somehow this felt very different. “I ask that you restore me to the other smaller chamber.”

“You continue to rebuff me, I see. Have not forgiven me as yet.” His expression was unreadable, the word spoken without inflection. “I have sinned against you and others and for that I am truly sorry. The stories are true I lay with my father’s wife, something I am not proud of. Even if she was much younger than my father, there is no excuse. I should not have kept the truth to myself in my dealings with you.” He moved to the window and peered out. As he spoke again, Meredith studied his profile, the elegant nose and sensual lips. “It would be preferable that you not dislike me so before marrying, but it looks as if fate has matters in hand.”

“What do you mean?”

Color crept up his face. Declan studied his boots for a moment in a rare show of low confidence in such a formidable man. “We are to be wed as soon as you are well enough. Your brother has sent for a priest to come in a few days. The clan and townspeople have been notified.”

Meredith smoothed the bedding. "Come sit. Tell me what happened between you and your father's wife."

It was strange to see the normally self-assured man drawing in, seeming to fear what he was about to divulge to her. "You won't understand."

"I will do my best. If I am to be your wife, I want to know everything about you, Declan."

His stunning eyes met hers for a moment and he finally sat, his legs straight, shoulders rounded, hands clasped between his legs. "I was only ten and five when they came the first time. My da brought her. Me own mother not long dead. I didn't understand what happened, but knew it was wrong. She took me, while he watched. I hated how he watched us while his hand disappeared beneath his own kilt."

Although his voice was even, as if he were speaking of something long held in, pain radiated from him. Meredith kept from touching him, allowing him to talk.

"At first they only came once in a long while, but then she came alone. I knew my da didna know. I feared he'd find out and beat me. Or scar me across the face like he did Carrick, so I remained silent. The years passed. I should have sent her away after my father stopped coming and I became older, but in a way, it was my revenge. To cuckold my own da after he'd forced his wife on me when I was but a young lad."

Jaw tense, he sat silent. Meredith’s heart softened. He'd been judged so unfairly when, in actuality, he'd not been given a choice, not at first. Later, she supposed, it was something that could not be undone.

"I'm so sorry, Declan. But you must understand you are not to blame."

His pointed look bored into her eyes. "Not at first perhaps, but I kept allowing it after I was old enough to send her away."

"Yes, you should have. You didn't. There's nothing to be done about it now. Do you still wish to bed her?"

"What?” His mouth fell open and then he exhaled. "No. Never again. After Da died, I never touched her again."

She put her hand on his shoulder. "The past should be left there. Thank you for telling me."

Chapter Twelve

Declan paced while Ian sat back in a chair and drank from his cup. “I don’t know whether to trust this is a good idea or not,” he repeated once again. “What do you advise, Ian?”

“You’ve given your word. You must marry the lass. The McNeil was dealt with and does not feel rebuffed after learning you had little choice in the matter of marrying Meredith Stuart. I convinced him her brother forced the issue after finding you'd seduced her.”

The fire in the hearth sent warmth into the room, the flames dancing side to side in a calming rhythm. With a resigned sigh he sunk into the chair opposite Ian. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m puzzled,” Ian said, his brows drawn. “I thought you and the lass were already lovers. Why are you so reluctant to marry?”

"My father’s marriage was not a love match. You saw how easy it was for his wife to seek relations elsewhere. She crawled into others’ beds only days after marrying my father who could not, according to her, quench her needs. Meredith has rebuffed my attempts to court her for weeks. Even now…” he motioned toward the ceiling, “her first action at waking was to attempt escape. I would prefer not to enter in to a marriage where my wife would prefer the company of another man.” The irony of his situation was not lost on him. It would be the price he’d pay for his past actions. Although his father mistreated his wife, and he had a hand in it, he should have stopped it.

"Did you speak with her? What was it like?" Ian asked.

"In truth, yes, we spoke of certain things. She, however, never indicated whether she wishes to marry me or not. Accepts that we are to marry. When the maid comes with her meals, she eats and then promptly falls asleep. Meredith is still recovering."

His friend looked downward in thought. “And there is the matter of her brother. If Aiden is aligned with pirates, it could bring bigger problems to you and the clan.”