Iain realized the mistake immediately. Rob did not understand that Iain would be proposing marriage to Robena, not asking her to be his mistress.
“I want her to wife, Rob.”
If Rob’s face cracked and crumbled into dust, Iain would not be surprised. His expression took on the look of stone—cold and empty—as he stared at Iain as though he had not understood the words.
“Are ye daft, man?” Rob finally asked. “Have ye no idea of what lies ahead if ye try to take her to wife? Ye command TheMacKillop’s men. Ye live in his keep. A woman who has lived as a whore will not be welcomed there.”
“I have thought of little else, Rob.” He spat out the words. “I have given my life and my service, first to my brother and then to his son. I have expected little or nothing in return but a place with my kin. I ken they cannot accept her openly. I ken she will not have an easy time of it. But I want her. I want her as my wife.” He’d almost not recognized the anger and the desire within him, and how much he’d decided his course, until he told Rob.
“And now? Does the knowledge that she cannot give ye bairns change yer thinking on it?”
Her admission had given him pause, but they did not change wanting her. Or wanting to marry her. Rob’s explanation made his blood boil at the pain she must have suffered before learning of the loss of her ability to have bairns. Yet, from her own words and those of the villagers, she was nothing but kind to everyone. She still helped whoever needed her, she assisted women through their own travails of childbirth, and she still saw to the needs of the men she took to her bed.
“I admit that was a stumbling block. ’Twas something Elisabeth and I never did, and I regret it.” Iain shrugged and shook his head. “I have enough years in me that it is not the obstacle it might have been for a younger man.”
“That is what I thought when I asked her,” Rob said.
He raised a brow at Iain’s glare. “When things looked hopeless with Anice, I asked Robena to marry me and return to Dunbarton to live, too,” he explained. “We were friends. We were lovers. I thought marriage would work between us, and that she would see the benefits to such an arrangement.” Rob glanced over and smiled at Iain, but the expression on his friend’s face was not one of mirth. He was not jesting about this. “Ye see how successful I was in gaining her hand in marriage.”
Since Rob and Anice had been married for nigh on five years, Iain understood it had been in the past. That fact did not prevent a fire of jealousy from flaring within him as Iain thought of that possibility now. Somehow, Robena plying her trade with men for coin did not bother him as much as it would if she loved them. Daft, aye. Mad, even, but that was how he felt about it.
“Ye were in love with Anice. Ye would not have married Robena.”
Rob shrugged then and stood away from the fence.
Nodding at the men who entered the yard and the others making their way to and from the keep, it was clear that the more personal part of this discussion was over.
“Think carefully, my friend,” Rob warned. “If ye are serious about this offer, I will back ye in it.”
“I am, Rob,” Iain said.
“Do not hurt her, Iain. Others have. I have. But not again.”
Loud voices drew their attention, and he watched as Struan came out of the keep with Anice following. They were having some argument that he did not wish to be witness to, and, from the way Rob’s focus moved to them, it was one in which Rob needed to be involved.
“I will see you at supper,” Rob said, walking past Iain and towards the only woman who truly mattered to his friend.
“Nay. I’ll be in the village for a few days.”
His words brought Rob to a complete stop there.
Turning back, he canted his head, staring at Iain.
“Do ye ken what yer doing, Iain? Have a care there.”
Then Rob strode off, his pace picking up as the argument or discussion did, and Iain made a quick escape back to the village. If he was lucky, she would still be warm and sleepy on the pallet and he could slide back in next to her and enjoy the morning in her arms.
7
Robena woke as Iain left. No matter his best efforts not to wake her, she missed his warmth as soon as he climbed from the pallet. It took a few minutes to dress and shake out and fold up the bedcovers. She shivered as she stepped out the back door of the cottage to bring in a bucket of water she’d left there. The icy layer was thicker than the last one, so she knew that the weather outside had taken a wintry turn. ’Twould not be long before snow covered the village and Dunnedin sank into the clutches of winter.
She inhaled the cold and clear morning air before ducking back inside and closing the door against the chill. Another shiver wracked her, and she grabbed up a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. A few minutes’ effort and she had the fire burning brighter. When it began to warm, she dropped the blanket and went about the tasks that began the day for her. His absence confused her.
Was he gone for the whole of the day? Glancing in the corner, she saw that his bag was still there and mostly undisturbed. Wondering on his plans would do her no good, so she put a pot on the hook over the growing fire and filled it with some of thewater. She would make enough porridge so there was plenty for him if he did come back soon, and if he did not, she could eat it through the day or store it for the next morning.
The purposeful strides crunching over the frozen grass of the path to her cottage made her turn and wait as the visitor approached. The steps slowed and then stopped.
Very slowly and quietly, the latch of the door lifted and the door inched open. When Iain’s face came into view, she smiled as he frowned.
