She wasn’t at all tired but recognized that he was trying to avoid facing his family. Or perhaps he wanted to give her an escape. For a moment, she hesitated—but then, he pulled her into his arms and embraced her tightly, offering silent comfort. And something within her wanted to prove to him that she was more capable than he knew.
“What do you think of Dunmeath?” he asked.
“Your home is much larger than I imagined,” she admitted. Though she kept her tone bright, inwardly, she knew it would take days—possibly weeks—to learn where everything was. It might be better to explore later at night after most of the household was asleep. Then, at least, she could practice with no fear of anyone learning about her blindness.
“You’ll get used to it.” Cormac smoothed her hair back and leaned down to brush a soft kiss against her lips. She savored the affection, but there was another challenge that lay ahead, besides that of learning her way around. She needed to navigate her relationship with his mother and learn how to make an ally of the dowager.
She broached the subject by remarking, “I didn’t expect your mother to be so disappointed in our marriage. When she mentioned that you had ruined their plans, it almost sounded as if...” She took a moment to choose her words carefully and a wild thought occurred to her. “Cormac, before you left for England, were you betrothed to someone else?”
He pulled her into his arms. “Let’s not talk of anything else now except how I’m going to lay you down on that bed.”
But she put her hand between them, not allowing him to distract her. “You haven’t answered my question.”
It wouldn’t surprise her if his mother had meant to play matchmaker. Though she’d sent him away to England, surely Josephine would want her son to marry a local heiress.
Cormac pressed her body close to his. “In the past, my mother did introduce me to several young ladies, hoping I would wed one of them. But they knew of my family’s curse, and they didn’t want to wed me. It didn’t matter.”
“Did you want to wed any of them?”
He reached back to unbutton her gown. “There’s no need to worry about the past,a stór.I am wedded to you now, and that’s all that matters.”
Was there something his mother had planned, a future that they’d somehow disrupted? It might be yet another reason why Josephine was so furious with him—for marrying without inviting or consulting his family.
As he laid her back against the bed, uneasiness tightened within her. And despite their agreement, she was starting to question what sort of marriage this would be. Worse, she’d learned only today that there was no child. She’d begun spotting this morning, and a bleak sadness washed over her. Still, she understood the truth of her situation. Unless she learned how to cast aside her fear and become a countess, this might be all she had.
And she simply could not return to the shadows and become a wallflower once more.
Chapter Nine
It was lateat night when Cormac reached over and found Emma gone from the bed. She’d been quiet ever since they’d arrived in Ireland, and he’d sensed her discomfort at being the new Countess of Dunmeath. Even during their lovemaking earlier, she’d seemed less responsive, as if her mind were caught up in the confusion of being here.
He lit a candle and put on a dressing gown before he slowly walked downstairs. The household was quiet, but he listened intently. He stopped in each room on the first floor to look for Emma. But she was nowhere to be found.
He continued all the way down the main hallway, but there was no light, save his candle. As he passed a grandfather clock, it chimed three o’clock. He continued down the hall and around the corner, and then at last he saw her walking toward another staircase. She held no candle and made no sound at all, but he could tell she was counting steps.
He was careful to be quiet as he approached, and when he drew near, she froze. “It’s only me.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to disturb you. It’s so late.”
Cormac took her hand in his. “You couldn’t sleep?”
In the faint light of the candle, he saw the worry in her eyes. “No. There’s too much for me to learn.”
Although he understood her desire to know her way around the house, he didn’t want her wandering the halls in the middle of the night simply to hide her vision difficulties from the servants. She could explore the house as much as she liked, all day long if she wanted.
Cormac put his arm around her and guided her down the dark hallway. “Come back to bed with me,” he suggested. When she hesitated, he offered, “Or if you’re wanting me to, I could read you a story. We could go into the library.”
The candlelight illuminated her face. “You don’t have to do that. You can go back to bed, and I’ll join you soon enough.”
Cormac wasn’t about to be deterred. “But this way, I can be alone with you sitting on my lap.”
“Somehow, I don’t think you want to read to me at all,” she murmured.
He ignored her speculation and said, “We’ll go into the library, and you can count our steps on the way there. I’ll see if I can find a book on farming or fertilizer to put you to sleep,a stór.”
She put her arm around his waist, and they walked together down the hallway, counting in whispers. When he brought her into the library, he set the candle down on the desk and saw the stack of books that he’d packed from the townhouse in England. The footmen must have begun unpacking and sorting through their belongings.
His grandfather’s familiar diary called to him like an old friend, and he touched the broken cover before flipping through some of the pages. Their stories were memories he wished he could have been a part of. And now, it was all he had left of them.
