His eyes narrowed. He pushed his hands through his hair, scrubbing his face with his palms. “How long?” he asked, his voice clipped.
“How long for what?”
He let out a long breath and backed away from the bed. Walking over to the sideboard, he poured himself a glass of what she assumed was whisky. “Have ye been married?”
“Six years,” she answered quietly.
“Jesus.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Does he ken ye are here? Ye shouldna be here.”
“No! I made sure I ran to a place he wouldn’t expect. I don’t want him to find me.”
Confusion drew his brows down, as he frowned. “I, all right.” He sat in a chair in front of the small fireplace, his head in his hands. “I cannot be so close to you right now.”
She swallowed down the hurt that his words caused, but she understood. And it just confirmed that she’d done the right thing when she did. “I understand. I’ve been dishonest.”
“Nay. I dinna believe ye have. Ye just havena been forthright.”
“That either.”
“Tell me,” he ground out.
She could tell he was angry. And that he was barely containing it. Knowing she was the cause of his anger made her upset. But she could understand why. She had just confessed to something that held a huge weight.
“I was married six years ago. Not my choice, really. It was arranged by my parents. Victor, my husband, was very charming in the beginning, until we were married, then it all changed. He was not a nice man. Cruel.”
“Your bruises,” he said quietly. “He beat ye?”
It was embarrassing to admit. But she needed to tell him the truth. She didn’t love Victor. Hadn’t in a very long time, if ever.
“He did. Often. With his fists and his feet. It didn’t matter what I did. It angered him. Everything I did was wrong. Or not good enough. Or not fast enough. There was always a reason.”
“The bastard. What of your parents? Did they ken?”
She shrugged, wringing her hands together. “Maybe, but they passed shortly after we married.”
“I’m sorry, lass. Were ye close?”
She pressed her lips together, wondering how she could put their relationship into words. “Not overly, but we loved each other very much, if that makes sense. I have great memories from my childhood, but they weren’t very emotional.”
“Did they see how ye were being mistreated?”
She shook her head. “No. After I was married, Victor made sure that he was my focus. There were no trips to visit them. I could no longer speak to my friends. He got very angry when I did, and I found it easier to just let them go instead of angering him about it.”
“This last beating. It had to have been bad for ye to still have the bruises after journeying all this way.”
Thinking back to that night, she squeezed her eyes shut. The anger blazing in Victor’s eyes as he reigned down punch after punch. She shielded her stomach, not wanting any harm to come to the babe. When he’d finally exhausted himself, he’d shut himself in his study.
She nodded. Memories flooded her and she fought back tears. She wouldn’t cry in front of Gunn. She didn’t want his pity.
“I had been planning to leave for some time before that. But that night, it was just so bad. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Gunn pushed off from the chair and came to sit next to her on the bed.
She welcomed his closeness.
“Ye made the trip alone?”
“Yes, with money I had stashed away over time.” She laughed nervously. “Money, that as you know, ran out when I got here.”
