She already knew that. He had talked often of his plans for his clan, but those weren’t the essence of him and that is what she wanted to know. “What happened to make you so different from him?”
He entwined his fingers with her, speaking in a wistful way as if remembering a time long gone. “My father used to think beyond his cock. He taught me a great deal, but he began to drink when my mother died.”
“When was that?”
“I was fifteen when a sickness took my mother, sister, and two younger brothers. It also killed more than half the village.”
She gasped. “I’m so sorry.”
His expression shuttered as he tugged her back to walking beside him. “I survived as did my father. And yet…”
“The joy has gone out of him.”
I nodded. “Yes. I left because to remain here was to steep in misery. I became educated. I saw that there was more to the world than drinking and rutting. And then…”
“Yes?”
“Then I met you.”
She snorted. “You made plans for your clan that required money. Then you found me.”
“And courted you—”
“And tricked me—”
“And married you.”
She had no retort to that. All her resentment had boiled up. For all that they were sharing a romantic moonlit stroll, she had still been tricked into her situation. Though he might not have created every detail of the experience, he was culpable for the planning. And his choice to marry her.
He must have sensed her withdrawal. When he spoke, his voice was gentle as if he were calming an angry beast. “Long before I met you,” he said, “I made a list of the things I needed in a wife and the things I wanted. I needed a large dowry.”
She nodded. Thanks to her status as an eccentric bluestocking, her parents had raised and raised her dowry as an inducement to overcome her oddities. It hadn’t worked. She’d had suitors, but except for her first indiscretion as a teenager, she had not been tempted by any of them. Not a one until Liam.
“That is all I needed in a wife,” he continued. “As to what I hoped for in a woman. I wished for someone who enjoyed music.”
She frowned at him. “I am indifferent to music. I enjoy it, of course, but there are so many other ways to fill my time.”
“Yes, I know. Though I do hope you will indulge me when I wish to attend a concert.”
She nodded. She had enough interests of her own. She would not prevent him from enjoying his loves.
“I wanted a woman who delights in the land. One who enjoys growing things and appreciates the storms as well as the sun.”
“The weather is an annoyance to me. And though I delight in the science of things that grow, I have never found interest beyond the truth of it.”
“I am aware,” he said, his voice dry.
They were nearing a bubbling stream. She could hear the rush of water as he tugged her through the trees.
“I also wanted a biddable woman, one who would take my direction. She would follow my instructions and not argue over small things. That, perhaps, was my fondest wish. It was a key reason why Mairi and I never fit. She was always telling me what to do, never rested even when exhausted, and she…well, she is not a quiet person, and I wanted a restful wife.”
She stopped, her mouth ajar in shock. “You thought I was abiddablewoman? Perhaps you could be forgiven for not understanding my indifference to music and growing things. But…but…”
“Clara, you are the least biddable woman I know. Your dowry is the bare minimum of what I require. You think three times as fast as any person I’ve ever known and at least half your ideas are unworkable and yet you fight for them with a passion that would exhaust any normal soul.”
“Of course, half are unworkable!” she all but bellowed. Damnation, how many times had she had this exact argument with her parents and Aaron? “They are ideas! I would guess ninety-five percent or more would be utter failures, but that is the point. One has to test them to discover what is feasible and what is not. If you are not willing to fail, then how do you imagine you will ever succeed at anything new or innovative? You will be doomed to repeat what your parents and grandparents and everyone else before you has ever done. And if you are not willing to think for yourself, then what good are you?”
He had one hand raised, gripping a tree branch. And as she ranted at him, he relaxed against the tree trunk while his smile grew ever wider until she finally sputtered to a stop. Her outrage could only last so long while he relaxed there. His face was touched by silvery light, his smile was wickedly tempting, and everything about him read glorious happiness.
