“Can we come back tomorrow?” the boy asked hopefully.
“The festival only lasts one day, sweetheart,” she explained. “But perhaps we can visit other villages when they have their celebrations.”
“Really? We can do this again?”
“If yer da thinks it’s appropriate,” she said, finally glancing at Elijah for the first time in hours.
His dark eyes met hers, and she saw frustration there but also something that looked suspiciously like amusement again. As if her campaign of polite avoidance had entertained him more than annoyed him.
Insufferable man.
“Aye,” he said, still watching her face. “I think we can manage that.”
The ride home was conducted in much the same manner. Iris chatted cheerfully with Codie about everything they’d seen and done but addressed not a word Elijah. When he made observations about the festival or asked questions about her impressions, she either ignored him completely or gave such brief, polite responses that it was clear the conversation was over.
By the time they reached the castle, Iris had perfected the art of acknowledging her husband’s existence while simultaneously making it clear that she had nothing to say to him. It was a delicate balance of wifely duty and personal displeasure, and she was rather proud of how well she was managing it.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Are ye goin’ to ignore me all night?”
Elijah’s voice cut through the silence of their chamber as Iris moved about, preparing for bed with deliberate, careful movements. She’d maintained her cold politeness through supper, through the evening’s activities, through their formal goodnights to Codie. But now, alone in their private space, the tension that had been building all day crackled between them like lightning.
“I’m nae ignorin’ ye,” she replied coolly, not looking at him as she began unpinning her hair. “I’m simply nae inclined to conversation with someone who thinks so poorly of me judgment.”
“For God’s sake, Iris.”
“Daenae.” She spun around to face him, her brown eyes flashing. “Daenae ye dare take that tone with me. Ye called me a fool in a public tavern, and now, ye want to act as if nothin’ happened?”
“I called ye a fool for puttin’ yerself down to the level of that idiot in the first place, nae for endin’ yer betrothal!” The words burst out of him with obvious frustration. “How can ye nae see the difference?”
“Because there is nay difference!” She threw her hairpins onto the dressing table with force. “Ye think I’m foolish either way, for breakin’ off me engagement or for understandin’ me own limitations. Either I’m too stupid to recognize a good thing when I have it, or I’m too stupid to ken me own worth.”
“That’s nae what I meant, and ye ken it!”
“Do I? Because it seems quite clear.” She began unlacing her gown with sharp, angry movements. “Ye married a woman ye consider a fool. How flatterin’ for me.”
Elijah ran his hands through his dark hair, his expression a mix of frustration and something that might have been desperation. “Ye’re deliberately misunderstandin’ everythin’ I say.”
“Am I? Or am I finally understandin’ exactly what ye think of me?” She pulled her gown over her head, leaving her in just her shift and stays. “I may nae be the brightest woman in Scotland, but I’m nae completely dense.”
“Ye’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met!”
The declaration seemed to surprise them both. Iris stared at him, her hands stilling on her stays, while Elijah looked as if he couldn’t believe the words had come out of his mouth.
“Then why did ye call me a fool?” she asked quietly.
“Because ye were bein’ one!” He stepped closer, his dark eyes intense. “Sittin’ there listin’ all the reasons why ye’re nae good enough, why ye should be grateful for scraps of affection from a man who dinnae deserve to breathe the same air as ye, that was foolish!”
“But it’s true.”
“It’s nae true! None of it is true!” He was close enough now that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. “And if I recall the day I met ye, those are yer parent’s voices in yer head. But guess what,wife? Ye’re nae too tall, ye’re nae too curvy, and ye’re certainly nae too opinionated. Any man who thinks otherwise is a big fool.”
“Ye daenae have to lie to me, Elijah.” Her voice was softer now but still wary. “I ken what I am. I ken I’m nae... I ken ye would have preferred someone else if ye had the choice.”
“Would I? And who would that be?”
“Me sister, obviously. Lydia’s everythin’ I’m nae. She’s gentle, sweet, and conventionally beautiful. If she hadnae run away, ye’d have married her without a second thought.”
