Alive? Humiliated? Torn open? Still able to remember the feel of his arms dragging her back from death? Still able to hear his voice on the cliff, saying she meantnothingto him? Which of these lovely examples would she give to the curious man standing before her?
Eventually, she settled on what seemed the kindest answer.
“Excellent. It is great to hear how much yer husband doesnae want ye.” The words came out sharp and clean.
Her father’s jaw tightened. Bruce let out a small, unhappy whine.
Ava did not look at them. She kept her eyes on Ciaran because he ought to hear it from her face as well as her mouth.
Pain flashed across his face, and he stepped closer. “Ava.”
She held her ground.
“This isnae the place,” he said.
“It was a cliff yesterday. I think a yard can survive it.”
He moved again, quick enough this time that she had no chance to step back. His hand closed around her arm and pulled her toward him with a force that made her heart slam hard against her ribs. Her body knew him too well and answered before her pride could tighten around the reaction.
“Ye ken that’s nae true,wife.” His voice had gone low. Urgent.
Those words might have undone her once, but now? Now, they only hurt.
She lifted her chin. “Do I? Ye’ve done everything ye could to show me the opposite.”
His grip flexed, tightened, then slackened all at once as if he had caught himself doing something he didn’t want to do. The struggle on his face might have moved her if she had not already spent so many nights trying to wonder how exactly to get through to him.
“Ava, listen to me,” he started.
“I have done little else.”
“Ye must understand. Everything I said on the cliff was for him. I needed to say something to get to ye, and ye ken that. That was forhim.”
“And the annulment was for whom?” Her voice shook, but she pushed through it. “Was he there during all those times as well?”
He looked as if she had struck him.
Perhaps she had. She had wanted the words to hurt because she was tired of being the only one who seemed to bleed openly from this marriage.
Around them, the yard had gone very still. No servant looked directly at them now, which only meant they were listening harder. Her father had turned his face away with studied restraint, though Bruce kept craning his neck to peer at both ofthem as if he understood what they were saying and would want nothing more than to contribute to the conversation.
Ciaran lowered his voice further. “Ava, ye must understand that I came for ye.”
Ava’s throat tightened. “Aye, ye did.”
“Ikilledfor ye.”
“Ye cannae mention that and then think it will make me forget everything else.”
His hand slipped from her arm to her wrist.
That should have softened the moment, but if anything, it only deepened the pull she was fighting. He knew that, too. She saw it in the rough breath he took before speaking again.
“Ye ken what I had to do.”
Shedidknow. That was part of the misery.
She was not stupid. She understood danger. She understood what Laird O’Malley had meant to do and why Ciaran had tried to shift his attention. But still, that wasn’t enough. She felt her eyes sting and hated that as well.
