He led her to the carriage and settled opposite her on the bench seats. She gripped her hands so tightly in her lap that her knuckles whitened, and she avoided his gaze.
‘I am sorry,’ he sputtered. ‘I realise you knew not a soul out there but me, and, well, you have only known me two days. I should have delayed our union until some of your family and friends could have arrived.’
She released a small chuckle. ‘You and I both know Father would not have come, nor would he have allowed my siblings to attend. I do not blame you for any of it. I knew the consequences of my choice. I chose you willingly. I am just nervous.’
He tried to wonder what would make the fearless and headstrong woman who kissed him in a sea of observers publicly and fled with him, a stranger, in midday in a carriage against her family’s wishes afraid. There was something important he was missing.
‘Are you uncertain of me? Of being here? Have I done something to make you uneasy?’ He leaned forward and reached for one of her hands. She stilled at his touch and a flush filled her cheeks, so he pulled his hand away.
She shifted on the seat as the carriage rumbled along. Blackmore was in full view. Their brief moments of intimacy would soon be over. ‘Nay, my lord. It is merely memories.’
Before he could utter another word, the carriage came to a rocking halt, and the door sprung open. Moira smiled and exited. As Rory pushed up from his seat, he wondered what memories she referred to despite the nagging truth echoing in his mind.Peter Fraser.He seemed the only man she still feared even though he was dead.
While he’d never known the man, Rory wondered what this Fraser had done to make his wife so fearful of marrying once more. He exited the carriage and frowned. His gut told him he didn’t truly wish to know the answer.
The hours of celebration whiled away quickly. The joyous music, flowers and sounds of happiness filled the usually quiet halls of Blackmore. The sheer life of it all filled Rory with more gaiety than he could remember. And the fact that such a union had given his uncle and clan such hope was not lost on him. Even if he could not sire an heir in time, giving his people hope of a bright future was a gift that was beyond his own imaginings. And he had Mrs Moira Fraser, nay, he stopped himself, he hadLady Moira McKennato thank. He spied his bride chatting with his uncle and local women from the clan across the room. She was laughing, smiling and enjoying herself. She’d relaxed since they’d entered the main hall, been announced and the celebration had begun, and he had been pleased to see the ease in which she moved amongst his people, nowherpeople.
He approached her and Uncle. ‘How is my new bride?’ He pressed a kiss on her cheek and pulled her gently to his side. Her body stiffened in his hold, and he relaxed his grip.
‘We were discussing her love of plants, and I assured her there were countless dusty leather volumes in the library on botany and agriculture awaiting her in dire need of being read.’ His uncle chuckled and sipped from his glass.
Rory released his hold of her. ‘Aye. He speaks the truth. The volumes will bloom under your care, as your plants will. Have you found a space for them?’
She blushed and her shoulders relaxed. ‘Aye. There is a room next to the library with a beautiful expanse of windows. May I put them there?’
He grinned. ‘Of course. That used to be a solarium, and we can update it as such. As I promised, you shall have run of the library and your plants. We will also construct a greenhouse where you see fit come spring once the weather turns.’
His uncle laughed. ‘I see you know how to barter, my lady.’
She smiled. ‘I do, Uncle. You should see me at cards.’
One of the ladies chimed in and winked at her. ‘Ye can’t say ye have na’ been warned, Leo. And, Rory, ye couldna’ have found a more lovely bride. Best wishes for ye both.’ She squeezed Moira’s arm and left them.
‘Shall we retire and leave the rest to celebrate our future?’ Rory asked.
Moira’s eyes widened briefly before she set a smile to her lips and nodded. ‘Aye, my laird. Good eve to you all.’
‘Good evening, Uncle.’
He extended his arm to his new bride, and as Moira slid her arm through, it felt as small and fragile as a baby bird’s wing against his. As they walked down the hallway, the music began to fade and finally he could hear the sound of their footfalls and the sound of wind whipping up outside. Winter was not far away, but this time of year was his favourite.
‘Where are we going?’ Moira asked. Her voice sounded small and timid. For a moment he even wondered if the words had come from her at all or had been his imaginings.
‘I thought you might show me where you’d placed your wee plants and see all of those dusty volumes Uncle is so desperate for you to read.’ He smiled down at her and felt her taut hold on his arm relax. He didn’t know why she was so nervous. The hard part of the day was over, wasn’t it? They were wed. Her father had not spoiled their union. She was married to a dying man as she wished. Her future was secure.
They travelled down the last corridor leading to the library. The moon shone full and bright along the hallway. They had no need for the wall sconces that flickered along their path at even intervals. At the threshold of the library, he paused. ‘Your library, my lady.’
She let go of his arm and ambled along the rows of books one after another. He found himself staring after her, bemused by her wide-eyed interest in each volume. Her fingers trailed along one spine and then another.
‘Why do you have a fire burning in here when no one is here?’ she asked, turning to face him.
He nested his hands in his trouser pockets. ‘You will know soon enough, but I rarely sleep. I find I wake quite often in the night. I have for some time. This is where I end up most nights, reading, staring into the fire, worrying over ledgers. The staff knows to always leave it lit, for me.’
She straightened and that beloved little notch of interest between her brows formed, one he realised now was meant for puzzling out something. He smiled at her quizzical look, pleased that he knew something of her after so few days between them.
‘Willow bark tea?’ she asked.
‘What about it?’
