He waved his hand, much as she had done, to indicate their surroundings. Not just the house, but the town, she surmised.
“Erik needs ye and cares about ye. He wouldna be angry—at so many things—if he didna care deeply about the clan and its future. He’s frustrated.”
“I ken that, and I have sympathy for the burden he bears.”
“At Ross, ye have a purpose. Many of them, really. Ye are making a difference. Perhaps things are difficult now?—”
“Perhaps!”
“But they will smooth out as the plans work. Here, ye will become like yer sick relative, essentially alone and accomplishing naught. Ye ken I am right.”
He made her want to cry, but she stiffened her spine and held in the tears. “Ye willna say aught to Erik about this house and what I have here. I must tell him about this place myself. When the time is right. Can ye keep my secret?”
“I already keep many secrets, lass. I can keep one more. But no’ forever.”
CHAPTER 12
Erik stood on the cliff edge and watched the birlinn carrying Fiona and the men with her sailing back to Ross. He could make out some of the men, but did not see her. His belly hollowed. Where was Fiona? Had she stayed behind?
As the ship drew closer and slipped between the rocks guarding the Ross cove, he finally spotted her, sitting aft and staring out at the firth they’d just traversed, not forward at Ross and her homecoming. Her position gave him even more cause to regret letting her leave three days ago without a farewell from him.
He’d been angry and, yes, hurt after their argument, embarrassed that she intended to use her own possessions to buy for the clan more than he believed they could afford. Was that even true? She’d never shown him any jewelry or claimed to have any wealth of any sort. But would Cook have gone along with deceiving him like that? He doubted it now, but at the time, he had gone down to the beach and slept in one of the fishing boats the clan kept there.
And today, he would have to face the consequences of his actions. As he descended the cliff path, he wondered if Fionawould come to him? Would she accept his help alighting from thebirlinn? Would she even look at him, much less take his hand or speak to him?
Suddenly, cold chills ran down his back. Nerves he usually felt only before a battle began assailed him now. Was he going to have to fight for his bride? His body anticipated a battle. What about his mind? And his heart?
He held his ground, though in truth, he was tempted to climb back into the boat he slept in two nights ago and pull a blanket over him. Let her pass by, and confront her in the privacy of their cot. What was he doing here, facing her down in public?
Would she destroy him by confirming as true the rumors swirling in the clan that she’d wanted a liaison with one of the guards who accompanied her? That the trip gave them the perfect opportunity? Would she lie and deny cuckolding him?
And who had spread the rumors that eventually reached him? Were they lies started by Donas’ remaining supporters? No one admitted to knowing where the tale came from. He should doubt it, but he dared not. He needed heirs that were his blood, not some random Ross guard’s. Fiona objected to his violent streak, but if he found out the rumors were true, he swore he’d kill the man with his bare hands.
He realized he’d worked himself into a rage again. He was in no frame of mind to greet his possibly straying wife. Before thebirlinnlanded, he whirled and climbed the cliff path, then marched into their cottage. Let her find him here and deal with him in private.
Though in truth, he’d just made a fool of both of them, storming away as she approached. Everyone who knew the rumor would assume he believed it and could not bear to face her. Their effectiveness as laird and lady was ruined. If he’d stayed and put a brave face on the situation, he might have saved both of them the humiliation, but his temper had damaged himyet again. And this time, if she’d seen him standing on the beach, he had hurt Fiona, too. And of course she had. Or seen him climbing up the cliff path. She’d wonder why he’d abandoned her. Unless she already knew.
A knife to the gut would have hurt less. And she hadn’t even confirmed the rumor. Yet.
She arrived a little while later, opened the door and came in, throwing a shaft of late afternoon sunlight across the room, and calling his name. “Erik? Are ye here? Why did ye leave the beach so suddenly. I saw ye and in the next moment, ye were gone.”
She sounded innocent. And concerned about him. Was she that good of a liar?
He stood from where he waited in the shadows. “Welcome home, Fiona. How was yer journey?”
She came to him, but stopped just shy of touching him. “What is wrong, husband? Why did ye no’ say goodbye when we left, or meet me on the beach just now?”
He didn’t want to say the words, but he had no other way to find the truth. “I was angry about our argument and needed to be alone to think. And rumors reached me while ye were gone that this trip was an opportunity for ye and one of the guards with ye to begin an affair. Is that true?”
She took a step back and stared up at him, eyes wide under a furrowed brow.
He thought she might be fighting not to laugh at the absurdity of the claim, but she was too pale, then too red in the face.
“I canna believe what I’m hearing,” she finally said.
She held her ground. He had to give her that.
“If ye think I could betray ye that way, ye are a fool. But if that is what ye believe about me, I will get out of yer way. I can go back to Inverness—” She choked off there.
