“Nay, but ye would think those true to the MacTaggart would share anything that might help reveal the traitor.” Dugan wagged a finger in the air again. “Not a single soul remembered who rode out with our fine chieftain that day.”
“Who usually accompanies you?” Surely, this wasn’t the first time the man had left his keep. Had they even thought of that? She jabbed a thumb in Dugan’s direction. “Other than this man, whom you seem to trust immensely, who else do you allow close? Don’t chieftains have bodyguards who go with them whenever they travel?”
Dugan cut a scolding glare over at Quinn. “I dinna ken what a bodyguard is, but I will say we have suggested he never travel alone. Even so, the bullheaded man still does so on many occasions.”
“Dinna yammer on about my behavior as if I’m nay here.” Quinn tightened the reins and brought both the conversation and the horse to a halt. “We shall stop here for a while, I think.”
“We’re nearly there, man. Can ye nay make it any farther?” Dugan urged his sturdy mount closer, peering at Quinn as if he feared him about to fall from the saddle.
“Is the sunlight bothering you again?” Concerned that his head ached worse, Evie twisted around and studied his pupils.
“We are within a stone’s throw of the keep, lass,” he said quietly. “Ye promised me an answer. Remember?”
“I said I would give you an answer when I saw your keep on the horizon.” The butterflies in her stomach multiplied into a herd of thousands, spread their wings and flapped hard. Thank goodness she hadn’t eaten anything today.
His smugness grew to epic proportions as his gaze slid to the right. “Look.”
There it was. Still a distance away, but visible. Leering at her above the treetops on the other end of the glen. The tip of a stone tower and a red flag fluttering in the breeze.
He dismounted, helped her down, then nodded at Dugan. “Water the horses, aye?”
Dugan frowned and made a wide sweep of his arm. “Where?”
“Find a place. Just go, aye?” Quinn’s stare hardened until Dugan jerked as if his chieftain’s true intent jabbed him in the ribs.
“I’ll walk them through yon wood for a while. Give a shout when ye’re ready to move on.” He meandered away with the beasts in tow.
The knot in Evie’s throat grew even larger when Quinn turned back to her. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited. Silent. Smug. A sleek black brow cocked at an angle that spoke volumes. Her mind raced, trying to figure a better solution than marrying a man she hardly knew or attempting to endear herself to what might be a hostile clan. She wasn’t talented at endearing. Not in the least. A professor had even dubbed her a bitter pill to swallow in front of a large class of peers. Of course, the instructor had been gracious enough to soften the blow by also informing the entire auditorium that it had nothing to do with her looks.
Her appearance he found acceptable. No. He had stated in a clear, damning tone that her difficult personality would be the wall that always separated her from the rest of humanity. Always. That had been psych class during her first year at university. She almost dropped out after that dressing down. But instead of letting that old bugger get the better of her, she had excelled at all her studies and graduated with honors.
Quinn cleared his throat but didn’t say a word.
She shifted in place and looked at everything but him.
“This isna that difficult a decision, lass.”
“Maybe not for you,” she sputtered. “In my opinion, settling on who I marry is one of the most important choices of my life.” She gave a nervous jerk of a shoulder. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive, but I like to get to know someone before I have sex with them.” Mimicking his stance, she popped her arms into a tensed fold across her chest. “And I take issue with forced marital relations.” She twitched another shrug. “You know—to consummate things?”
That won her one of his befuddled frowns.
“I would never force myself upon ye. Surely, ye know that about me by now?” Then his frown disappeared, and his eyes widened as if he suddenly remembered something. “And rest assured, my clan no longer tolerates the bedding ceremony. I stopped that barbaric custom once I became chieftain.” He tipped his chin to a daring angle. “Of course, I do allow the blessing of the marriage bed by the priest.” With a sharp nod, he added, “For future bairns, ye understand.”
She needed to get him back on track. He must understand her point. “You said your first wife didn’t like you and avoided you whenever possible, right?”
“Aye.”
“If you didn’t force yourself on her, how did the two of you ever conceive a child?”
A muscle ticked in his check; his jaw tensed as though he ground his teeth. He stared at her for a long moment before answering. “She laid there ’til I finished.” Disgust colored his tone. “She made it quite clear she would do her wifely duty but never enjoy it.” His pained glare drifted to a point off in the distance. “The first time she agreed to the act because her father said if she didna produce the bloody sheet of a pierced maidenhead, she could never come home and visit her mother.” He shifted in place, and his voice grew colder. “I caught her pouring a vial of sheep’s blood where we had lain. It was then I understood it wasna her mother she wished to visit. ’Twas her lover. A myriad of emotions flashed in his dark eyes. Pain. Resentment. Embarrassment. His focus riveted back to her, held her trapped in all he relived. “As soon as she told me she was with child, I never touched her again.” After a bitter snort, he added, “’Twas naught but a fortnight after our wedding. She thought me too stupid to realize the babe in her belly was seeded before we married.”
She hurt for him. With everything he shared, she realized he wasn’t some barbaric Highlander intent on bedding wenches whether they wished it or not. And how in Heaven’s name had such an image ever gotten into her head? Too many movies overheard from her flatmate’s laptop, most likely. She scrubbed her face, then let her hands drop. “I need to walk a bit. It helps me think. Will you grant me that?”
He took hold of her shoulders and kept her from looking away. “Yer wasting time, lass. What difference will it make if ye wait until the sun climbs a bit higher in the sky?”
“Fair point,” she admitted. What difference would it make? Was she going to pluck some unseen solution out of thin air? She hated dawdlers, and now she had become one. Head held high, she locked eyes with him. “Yes. I will be your wife.”
With a gentle pull, he enclosed her in his embrace until the heat of him scorched through her. His warm lips brushed across her mouth, nibbling with a hesitant tenderness. The chaste kiss set her blood on fire while, at the same time, reminding her of what she had just said. She could almost hear the door to her past life swinging shut, its hinges creaking with resounding finality like the closing of a tomb.
