“You’ll be my wife soon, lass, and youwillobey me, for I am laird and master here.”
“You are laird of Kinloch, not laird of my body. And I am not yet your wife, so I will say it again. Please leave my bedchamber.”
He moved around the side of the massive bed and began to tug at the coverings. She squeezed them to her chest, refusing to let him tear them away.
“I thinkyouare the one who’s forgetting the promises we made to each other today,” he said. “You gave your word that you’d be amiable toward me until our wedding night. Yet here you sit, insulting my character, calling me vulgar.” He tugged harder at the bedclothes.
“Let go,” she said through gritted teeth.
He used both hands, as if it were a frivolous game of tug-of-war and he was determined to win it. They pulled back and forth for a few seconds until Gwendolen knew it was pointless to continue. His hands were too big, his legs too strong, braced firmly on the floor. Sure enough, before she could voice a protest, the covers were whisked off the bed and tossed behind him.
Clad only in her shift, Gwendolen hugged her knees to her chest.
“That’s better,” he said, gazing down at her heatedly. “I don’t like it when you hide from me.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it, because I have no intention of simply offering myself to you on a silver platter.”
He sat down on the edge of the bed.
“Why are you here?” she asked. “Why can you not just leave me be?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“Neither could I, but that does not give me the right to go traipsing about in other people’s bedchambers, forcing them to share in my wakefulness.”
He was always so serious, so somber, angry and threatening. She had yet to see him smile or show any warmth. Even if she closed her eyes, she could not imagine it.
“Traipsing about,” he said. “Is that what I’m doing?”
“Aye.”
He casually looked about the room, which was lit only by the candles he’d brought with him and a small square of moonlight shining in through the window. “This was my bedchamber once, before I was sent away.”
Taken aback by this news, she tucked her bare toes under the hem of her shift. “I was not aware. I assumed…”
“What?”
“I don’t know. I just never thought about which chamber was yours.”
Had he slept here as a lad? She could not imagine that either.
Her heart was beating very fast, and when he said nothing more, she felt compelled to ramble on. “We changed the linens,” she told him. “Other than that, everything is the same. The furniture, the rug…”
He glanced at the braided rug and the bedclothes lying in a heap on top of it, and continued to sit in silence.
What in the world did he want?
“Of course, I could move to another room if you wish to have this one back,” she suggested, wondering if that was why he had come. “There is a chamber just below this.”
“Nay, that was my sister’s chamber. I occupy my father’s quarters now.”
“You have a sister?” That was a surprise.
“Had. She’s dead now.”
Struck by his gruff tone, Gwendolen softened hers. “I am sorry to hear that. How long ago?” she carefully asked.
“A few years.” He looked the other way.
