He laughed, sliding back into the water. “Ye are vera easy tae tease, Wife. If ye dinnae want tae get in, then at least come scrub mah back.”
“Why should I?” Ainslee shot back, frowning.
He grimaced. “Because I am injured, and cannae move mah arms tae scrub it. Maybe I did overdo mah workout today.”
“Told ye so,” she stated before walking over to the tub. Grabbing the cloth from the nearby table, she found the soap and dipped the cloth into the water, careful not to touch Arran as she did so. “I will prepare ye some tea afterward, for yer sore muscles.”
Dragging the cloth across his broad shoulders, as she had done many times, Ainslee heard Arran sigh. “Ye are mah wife now. There’s no need tae continue with yer healing.”
It was Ainslee’s turn to chuckle. “Healing is as much as breathing for me, Husband. Ye wilnae take that from me.”
“I dinnae wish tae do so,” Arran said after a moment, his voice soft. “I wish for ye tae be happy here, Ainslee.”
Happy. When was the last time she had been happy? Her hut in the woods had provided a measure of happiness for her, but there was always the threat of Liam finding her hanging over her head.
But here, with Arran, she was protected. She was safe. He was strong. His clan was strong.
He deserved the truth, so there were no lies between them.
“I...I have something tae tell ye,” she finally said. “A story.”
“What story, Wife?”
His voice was even, but she detected a note of concern in his words. Focusing on her task, Ainslee dipped the soap in the water and lathered the cloth, spreading it over his shoulders, paying close attention to the tension in the muscles at his neck.
“Will ye listen tae the end?”
“Aye.”
Ainslee pushed through the words, her tongue suddenly thick in her mouth.
“There once were siblings that lost their parents at a very early age. The girl, she pulled within herself as she grieved. But the boy, he saw their deaths as the power he had been waiting for. He toyed with his sister mercilessly as well as his entire clan, bringing about brutality that they had not seen in many generations. One day, he told his sister that he had made a match for her, one that would give him more control, and she told him no. He then took a knife and threw it at her chest, nearly killing her.” Ainslee winced at the memory, the sting of the blade piercing her skin, almost as though it had just happened.
“She fled,” she forced out, “and has been hiding in plain sight for many years.”
“Who were they?” Arran finally asked, his voice rough. “Their names.”
Ainslee dropped the cloth, moving around so that she could see his face. His expression had grown stone cold, his eyes glittering stones that did not hold the same warmth they had mere moments ago. It was time to come clean—to cleanse her soul and allow him to deliver her fate.
“I am McDougal’s sister.”
He sucked in a breath, his movements quick and jerky as he climbed out of the tub. Ainslee didn’t bother to avert her gaze from his naked form, feeling the loss in the pit of her stomach. It had to come to pass, but now she wished she had waited another day.
“Arran.”
He held up his hand, shoving his legs into his breeks. “I cannaeevertrust ye!”
His words broke Ainslee. “I am not mah brother.”
The look he gave her could ice over the water between them. “Nay, ye aren’t. Ye are far worse. Is there no end tae yer lies? Why did ye not tell me before now?”
His declaration shouldn’t have bothered her like it had. She didn’t know him any better than she knew her brother, but they were wed in the eyes of his clan. She was to be the wife that took care of their laird, yet the hurt in his eyes was not something he could hide from her.
“I was scared,” she finally said. “I didnae know how tae tell ye.”
Arran snatched his tunic from the floor, the material clinging to his wet skin as he pulled it on. “I can never trust ye,” he retorted in a soft voice. “I should have never married ye.”
Ainslee jerked back, reeling as if he had just slapped her. Their marriage had been in haste, but she did not wish to hear that he already regretted his actions.
