“But I have,” Elsy said, her smile growing.
Connell straightened in his seat. “Ye have?”
Elsy laughed and he supposed his face alluded to his bewilderment. “Aye, of course I have. During the autumn festivities yer father opened his castle for all his people. Although, I suppose he kept ye too busy throughout the day.”
Connell groaned, remembering how he was tasked with watching the children compete in the fields, far away from the ale and the food. By the time they had finished, the sun had been setting and most the people had returned to their homes. He rarely enjoyed the autumn celebrations.
“Aye, my loving, endearing father,” Connell said while raising his cup, “always one step ahead.”
Elsy chuckled as she raised her cup to meet Connell’s. “Aye, he was a mischievous one. I suppose his wit made him an excellent laird.”
“Aye, his wit alright,” Connell said while rolling his eyes. “And his skill in manipulating any argument to go his way.” Connell groaned, yet there was a smile on his lips as he thought of his father. There had been hard times between them, especially when his father didn’t understand why Connell wanted Elsy, but there had been good times, as well. Times where his father gave him his first blade or taught him how to ride a horse. Times where his father pushed him to dance with a pretty girl when he was a scrawny, unsure lad, and times where his father laughed at Connell’s idiocy. Connell sighed. “I miss him.”
“Then why don’t ye return to him?”
Connell shook his head. “Tis not so easy.”
“I believe it is.”
Connell scoffed. “Ye remember how he was.” Connell set his goblet on the table, grimacing at the thudding noise it made and the ale nearly sloshing over the rim. “Demanding, needing perfection with every duty, every word coming out of my mouth.” Connell grimaced, his fingers stroking his eyepatch. “He would never accept this, a son with one eye.” Connell shook his head. “All pride he had for me would die the moment he laid his eyes upon me, and the disgusting monster I have become.”
His eyes widened as he felt Elsy’s touch on his fingers, pulling them away from his eyepatch. She stared at him as if she was that young maiden he met years before, with so much adoration, with so much love.But it couldn’t be love,he told himself.She could never love someone like me.
“Yer not a monster,” she said while lacing her fingers with his. “And I’m most certainly sure yer father would still love ye. I remember how he looked when I left the clan, as if all the life had left him from the moment yer death was announced.” Her lips trembled, tears glimmering back at him in her gaze. “I’m sure he would welcome ye home with open arms. He would be so overjoyed to have his son alive and well.”
Connell felt as if he had been stabbed through with a sword, as if a blade had slit his belly and all his insides were being laid bare before Elsy. He hated knowing his decision had hurt his father. “I only did what I thought was right,” Connell whispered, not trusting his voice to be any louder. “I gave up my life to punish the man who did this, who destroyed Scotland.” He wrenched his hand away from hers. “But foolishly, I missed my chance and now he is dead, killed by another before I could make my move.”
Elsy didn’t say anything as Connell stared at her, his hands missing her touch, longing for it. She opened her mouth, her voice strained as she said, “I was never his wife.”
Connell’s heart stopped in that moment. She held his stare. She was waiting for him to say something, but Connell didn’t know what.She wasn’t his wife?he thought.But how could that be?“How--”
“We were wed,” Elsy rushed out, her gaze dropping to her hands, wringing them as she so often did when she was nervous. “That is true. However, we were never truly husband and wife.”
“That is impossible,” Connell whispered, rising from his chair, and stalking toward the hearth. He couldn’t hear any more of this. He admitted to himself he was still in love with her, but he still couldn’t permit himself to listen to her lies.
“Tis the truth,” he heard her say, heard the squeaking of wood against stone.
Footsteps padded behind him as he stared into the fire. He felt her stop behind him, could feel her warmth, but she did not touch him. What could she possibly want by telling him this? Did she really think that she could lie to him, make him believe in hope?
“He took me to his castle,” she whispered, “and locked me inside. I never left those walls. I never saw Ava. I never rode a horse, or gathered herbs, or helped the ill and the injured. He locked me inside. He rarely spoke with me. I was more prisoner than wife.”
Connell shook his head. He couldn’t believe her words. It was too absurd, locking a wife inside the castle and treating her so cruelly. His gaze shifted to hers and his heart seized at the tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Tis the truth,” she breathed, her shoulders shaking. “He never lay with me, or I with him. We were never man and wife.”
Her eyes spoke the truth, but he didn’t know if he could believe her words. He didn’t want to have faith, knowing the moment he let go of his hate, his control, he could have his heart broken. Connell turned toward her. The hearth’s flames flickered, casting shadows over Elsy’s face. She stepped toward him, resting her hands on his chest.
“Ye must believe me,” she whispered. “I would never lie about this.”
“Please, do not say that,” he breathed, his eye closing as her hands slid up his chest to his neck. His face flushed, his body tensing as desire flowed through him. “Even with one eye, even as repulsive as I am, I have ways of discovering the truth.”
“Ye will never be repulsive to me.”
Connell’s eye opened and his breath hitched. Elsy was so close to him. Her arms were wrapped around his neck. Her fingers were playing with the hair resting along his nape. She was so close he could feel her breath on his lips.
“Do ye mock me?” he whispered, his lips lowering, nearly brushing hers. “If ye do not leave me now, I will--”
“Then do it,” Elsy breathed, her lips lifting toward him.
Connell groaned, unable to step himself from capturing her lips. She was ready for him, her mouth open and wanting. Her hands tightened around his neck and Connell found himself grabbing her bottom and pulling her closer. Her legs wrapped around him, her skirts twisting around them. His tongue entered her, twining around hers, earning a whimper from her lips. He growled, low in his chest, his hold on her tightening. She leaned into him, and Connell stumbled. Slowly, he lowered them onto the floor, to the rugs lying before the hearth. Elsy’s hair spilled out onto the soft rugs, her green eyes glimmering with her desire. Connell lowered himself onto her, knowing this time he wouldn’t be able to stop.
