"But I thought, surely I could keep the blue room."
"Nay." His voice was firm. "Couples dinnae sleep apart. It raises questions we dinnae need asked."
"I dinnae care."
"I dae." He took her arm, his grip gentle but unyielding. "Come. We'll make our farewells and retire."
The walk to his chambers felt like a death march. Every step brought her closer to the moment she'd been dreading since the auction. Whatever reprieve she'd had was over. Tonight, Tòrr would claim his rights as her husband.
But he’d have to fight her for every inch of it. She’d be damned if she just let him take what little control she still had. If shecouldn’t escape, then she’d delay him, outwit him, claw for every sliver of time she could steal back.
Her stomach churned, but beneath the fear was a stubborn thread of steel. She might be trapped in this marriage, but she would not surrender quietly.
His chambers, as she had seen the day before, were larger than hers, dominated by a massive four-poster bed that seemed to mock her fear. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room.
“Wait.” Her voice came out higher than intended as he closed the door behind them. “I need… I cannae.”
He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. “Cannae what?”
“This. Any of this.” She pressed her hand to her forehead, thinking quickly. “I’m nae feelin’ well. I think I might have a fever.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “A fever.”
“Aye. Me head is poundin’, and I feel quite faint.”
He crossed the room in three strides, his hand coming up to rest against her forehead before she could retreat. The touch was cool, clinical, yet somehow intimate in the quiet chamber.
“Ye feel fine tae me.”
“Well, I’m nae.” She stepped back, breaking the contact. “I need rest. Real rest. Alone.”
“We’re married now, Liliane. There is no alone.”
“One night,” she pleaded, hating the desperation in her voice. “Just give me one night tae adjust.”
He studied her for a long moment, his jaw tight. “Ye’re afraid.”
“I’m tired.”
“Ye’re terrified.” His voice softened slightly. “Of me. Of this.”
Her throat tightened. He wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t just him, it was everything. Every slammed door, every cruel word she’d grown up with had taught her what intimacy could become in the hands of a man with power. She’d seen what marriage looked like in her father’s house. She wanted no part of it.
"I willnae force meself on an unwillin’ woman," he said finally. "Despite what ye might think of me, I'm nae that kind of man."
Relief flooded through her so suddenly her knees weakened. "Truly?"
"Aye. But," he held up a hand as her relief began to show, "we cannae leave this union unconsummated indefinitely."
"Why nae?"
"Because without evidence of beddin’, our marriage can be challenged. Yer faither could petition fer annulment, claim I never actually claimed ye as me wife." His expression was grim. "We both ken he willnae hesitate tae use any weakness against us."
"So what are ye sayin’?"
"I'm sayin’ I'll give ye time tae adjust. A few days, perhaps. But nae ferever, Liliane. Eventually, this marriage must be made real in every sense."
"And if I refuse?"
