“Well, nay, but…”
Ryder turned to face her, his expression calm and focused.
“I daenae want a bride, Megan. I thought ye understood that. Maybe I have been too… too confusin’. I have bewildered ye, and let ye to believe that I want more from ye than I do. I am sorry for that, but I suppose it’s too late to remedy it. So, I am remedyin’ it now.”
Megan sat up properly, blood pounding in her ears. Her neckline drooped, and she reflexively clapped her hands against the bodice, holding up to cover herself. She had felt so thrilled earlier, with all of that skin exposed. Now, she just felt cold.
“I see,” she managed, shuffling forward to slide off the bed. Her legs had gone to jelly, but she locked them into place from sheer force of will. “Thank ye for clearin’ that up.”
“Do… do ye want me to help ye lace up yer gown?” he offered, not meeting her gaze.
Anger made her vision shiver for a moment.
“Nay, I daenae,” she responded stoutly. “Me room is just below.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “Megan, please. I ken ye are angry at me right now, but truly, it has nothin’ to do with ye. I daenae want a bride. I daenae want to be in love.”
She shouldered past him, heading for the door. If she didn’t get out of that room within a minute, she was going to cry. Megan knew that with a certainty.
“Well,” she shot back, reaching the door, “ye have a strange way of showin’ it. Goodbye, Laird MacCulloch.”
His shoulders sagged. “Megan, please daenae take this the wrong way.”
She bit her lip, trying and failing to meet his eye. He did not seem to want to look at her.
“How am I meant to take it, Ryder?” she asked softly.
When no answer came, she gently shut the door and hurried down to her own room.
She managed to hold back the tears until she was safely inside.
CHAPTER 27
A knockon the door made Ryder flinch, frowning. Nobody knocked at his door. He rose to his feet, eyeing the locked door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, me laird,” came Flora’s voice.
Flora? Ryder did not think that Flora had ever ventured up to his room, not ever. He hurried over to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open.
Sure enough, there she was, her hands folded primly on top of her rounded stomach.
“May I come in?” she asked pleasantly.
“Aye, if ye like,” he answered reflexively. Flora stepped inside, turning to face him. Ryder eyed her warily.
He and Flora were not exactly close friends. He liked her, of course, and trusted her with his sisters. Besides that, she was the wife of his beloved friend. Despite all of this, he could not actually remember being alone with Flora in a room. Not ever.
“Megan is packing her things,” Flora said. “She is leaving.”
Ryder curled his fingers into fists. “Aye. I thought she might.”
“Ye thought she… Me Laird, ye baffle me at times.”
He shrugged, folding his arms. “She’s nae a prisoner.”
Flora narrowed her eyes at him. “I told Ewan that he should talk to ye about this, but Ewan said it wasn’t our concern. He said that ye would work our yer own troubles in yer own time, and we should stay out of it.”
