He turned a deaf ear to her pleas to release her, or at least to delay the marriage until she was older. The political and material benefits to the family outweighed the certain unhappiness it would bring her, and so the marriage went forward as planned. At least it was brief.
“I will kill him,” Rory said.
“Ye can’t,” she said. “He’s already dead.”
“I wish I’d been there to protect ye.” Rory ran his hand up and down her arm. “And failing that, I wish I’d been the one to kill him.”
“What I wish,” she said, “is that ye had taken me away before it happened.”
“I should have been gentle with ye,” he said in an anguished voice. “I meant to be, but I wanted ye so much. And then, when I realized ye weren’t a virgin… Well, I didn’t understand that I still needed to be careful with ye.”
“Ye didn’t hurt me,” she said. “Not until afterward.”
***
Rory was awash in guilt. He had been an unfeeling brute, and that is what she would remember of the night he made her his wife.
“I am sorry for being such an arse.”
“Ye were angry,” she said in a flat tone, still with her back to him. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I was angry,” he said, “but that’s no excuse.”
He’d been angry because his pride was hurt when he discovered his bride had not saved herself for their marriage. And even more than his pride, it had torn him up inside to think of another man having Sybil before him.
Or ever.
“It does matter that I hurt you.” He gently rolled her onto her back so that he could look down into her face as he said it. “It matters verra much to me.”
“I want to believe that,” Sybil whispered.
He knew how much she hated to show any vulnerability and that it cost her to let him see the tears glistening in her eyes. He kissed her forehead.
“I don’t want to disappoint ye like the men in your family,” he said. “I will keep ye safe, and I’ll do my best to make ye happy.”
“Ye have a good heart, Highlander,” she said, and rested her palm against his cheek.
At her touch, desire surged through him, but he dared not hope that she would let him make love to her again tonight.
When she gave him a soft, lingering kiss on the lips, his heart swelled with an overwhelming tenderness. His bride was more forgiving than he deserved.
“Make love to me again,” she whispered. “Give me a night to remember.”
This time, he savored every moment, every touch, every sigh. He would never have enough of her.
Hours later, he held his sleeping wife in his arms as he watched the dawn break in pink and gold over the green hills.His wife. He liked the sound of that.
The question was finally settled. Sybil had made her choice, and there was no going back. Last night they had consummated their marriage—repeatedly. He drew in a deep breath and sighed. She was good and truly his now.
The road ahead would not be easy, and the loss of his brother lay heavy on his heart. But having won Sybil’s trust and commitment, he felt as if he could accomplish all the tasks that lay before him.
CHAPTER 18
Sybil snuggled closer to Rory. All she wanted was to stay right here in his arms and pretend this would not end.
“How are ye this morning?” Rory asked, and kissed her hair.
“Good.” She leaned back and grinned at him. “Verra good.”
