Aye, their marriage wasn’t real. But it was starting to feel that way. Now, their union truly wasn’t real. How could it be? Gerard still being alive would surely make any vows agreed upon between her and Finlay null and void.
She was devastated. Not because she wouldn’t gain control of her assets. Her assets be damned. She was devastated because her marriage truly wasn’t a marriage. Just when she had finally begun to accept the feelings that were starting to take hold for Finlay, it was all going to be ripped away from her.
Another thought entered her mind and she couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped from her. What of Finlay’s title? If they werena truly married, then he would no longer be earl. He would be ruined.
All because of her.
“I need to speak with him,” she started to the door, but Finlay reached out, stopping her with his hand on her wrist.
“I dinna think ye should rush out there. Think about what ye want to ask him.”
“Damn it, I want answers. I think I deserve that. I’m owed an answer as to why.”
Finlay pressed his lips together and nodded, letting go of her wrist. “I understand and I agree. He owes ye that much at the verra least after what ye’ve been through. I just want ye to ensure that this is a conversation ye want to have this night.”
Her eyes fell on the door before meeting his once again. “’Tis no’ a conversation I would like to have—now or e’er really. But I must ken why.” She couldn’t explain the pull to Finlay. Her thoughts were a jumbled mess inside her head. But one thing was clear. She wanted answers.
Finlay must have realized that he wouldn’t be able to dissuade her from confronting her bastard of a husband until a later time, so he opened the door and followed her out into the hall. “I am here, Mina. Whate’er ye need from me. Just say the word and ’tis yours.”
She turned to him and did the one thing she had been dreaming about since before their wedding day—she wound her arms around his neck and pulled his head down for a kiss. A deep, soul-searching, earth-shattering kiss that had her toes curling in her travel boots. As his tongue found hers, her knees went weak, and if it were not for his arms wrapped around her waist holding her steady, she would have collapsed into a puddle on the floor.
Breaking the kiss, she licked her lips, and gave him a shy smile, the complete opposite of his which looked positively feral. His blue eyes burned hot and if it weren’t for the pressing matter of questioning her previously dead husband, she would have grabbed Finlay’s hand and pulled him into her bedchamber and happily given herself to him.
She drew a shaky breath and smoothed her skirts.
“Let us go talk to my husband.”
“Hey,” he caught her chin and forced her face to his. “Look at me,” he demanded. When her eyes clashed with his, he said. “I am your husband. Me,” he clasped her hand and brought it hard against his chest where his heart beat strong beneath her palm. “Only me. That bastard in there? We will figure it out. But it doesna change the fact thatIam your husband.”
*
Finlay spoke withsuch raw honesty that she could only nod in agreement.
“Say it,” he commanded. “I want to hear ye say it.”
She took a deep, shuddering breath and met his eyes. “Ye are my husband.” The way her heart swelled when she whispered the words was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She smiled and the smile he gave her in return lit up the hall.
“Now, let’s go find that bastard and get to the bottom of whate’er game ’tis he is playing.” He offered her his arm and when she took it, he said, “Lead the way,wife.”
She couldn’t suppress the laugh that bubbled up, but quickly covered it up and put on a serious face. It would do her no good to confront Gerard in a light manner. When they were married and he treated her like muck on the bottom of his boot, she may have allowed it. But, since she’d met Finlay, she’d gained a new confidence in herself. He made her feel like she was someone.
They found Gerard in the library, a most peculiar place seeing how he had never much cared for the room or the books contained within.
“Willamina,” he stood when they entered the room, but she stopped whatever he was going to say by putting her hand up in the air.
“Ye can sit, Gerard,” she said, clasping her hands in front of her, trying to decide how best to broach whatever it was that brought them to this point. Deciding the best way would be to get straight to the point, she asked, “Why?”
Gerard had the audacity to look shocked by her question. “Does it matter now, love? Ye are home.” He went to stand and Finlay jumped toward him.
“I suggest ye sit your arse in that chair and no’ fucking move it.”
Willamina dipped her head to hide her smile as she approached Finlay and, with a hand on her chest, gave him a slight shake of her head. She wanted to handle this on her own. Nay, she needed to handle this on her own.
She spun on Gerard. “First, dinna call me love. Ye ne’er did afore when we were married, and ye may no’ do so now. Second, I am home. This home is mine. As so granted upon your death.”
Gerard clucked his tongue and wagged his index finger at her, a sneer on his face. “See, that ’tis where ye are wrong. The estate went to your parents upon my death.” He held up his hands to make the sign of quotes when he said the word death. “Then they died. Sorry,” he said flatly, his voice lacking any sign of caring.
“Then, who knew ye had family outside of your parents? I fully expected the estate to go back to the state since ye couldna be the holder.”
