“Because I still think he was wrong.”
She pushed her plate away. “Is he still with the woman you warned him against?”
“Aye.”
“And are they happy?”
He tapped the tip of his finger impatiently on the arm of the chair. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. I haven’t seen either of them for two years.”
The fiddler finished the tune, and Angus rose to his feet. A hush swept over the room like a breezy chill, for everyone knew it was time for all MacEwens to pledge their oath of allegiance to their new laird.
Feeling a ripple of apprehension, Gwendolen sat back and considered all that she had learned about her future husband in the last hour.
None of it made her feel any better about her situation.
***
That night after the feast, Gwendolen lay in bed, still contemplating the disturbing conversation she’d had with her betrothed.
He claimed he had no intentions of using Kinloch in another Jacobite rebellion. She wasn’t certain, however, that he was telling the truth.
He also did not believe in romantic love. Not that she had any fanciful notions that their marriage would be anything other than a political arrangement, but she’d hoped that somewhere in his past, he might have cared for a woman, or at least understood the emotion in others. With every word or gesture, however, he confirmed her initial impressions of him—that he was an instrument of war, a steel-edged blade, and his heart was made of stone.
Although… There was one thing she had learned tonight which suggested a hint of compassion somewhere in the dark abyss of his soul. He had insisted the MacEwen widows be given time to grieve for their dead husbands before any MacDonald clansmen could make advances upon them.
Had that order come from him directly? she wondered. Had he felt some sympathy for their plight? Or had the idea come from his cousin Lachlan?
At leastthatman seemed attuned to the feminine mind. He had been understanding of her fear when he escorted her from the hall that morning, and he had certainly known how to go about charming her mother.
Angus, on the other hand, had no interest in charming anyone. He was more like a sledgehammer when it came to getting what he wanted.
A knock sounded at the door just then, and she sat up in bed, startled as she peered through the darkness.
“Who’s there?”
The door creaked open, and without waiting for an invitation, her fiancé entered the room, carrying the silver-plated candelabra from her father’s chamber.
Although it belonged to Angus now. Everything did. Including her.
He set the candles down on the chest, closed the door, locked it behind him, then slowly approached the foot of the bed.
Gwendolen watched him in uneasy silence. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
He strode casually around the bed, while the candlelight picked up the golden tones in his wavy hair.
Chapter Six
Gwendolen fought to suppress her alarm. “You promised to leave me alone until our wedding night. Please go.”
“Nay, I promised to let you stay a virgin. I didn’t promise to leave you alone. I’m here now, and I am staying, whether you like it or not.”
She frowned. “If I am to be your wife, you could at leasttryto win my affections.”
“I have no interest in your affections, lass. That’s the last thing I want from you.”
He truly was a heartless man, interested in only one thing—power over others. And perhaps a little debauchery on the side.
“No, you just want me to satisfy your vulgar desires. But I am a woman with independent thoughts and feelings. I am not a dog you can command.”
