Page 124 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

“Tommy believes laughter can hurt me. Paisley is afraid to sit beside me. The servants report me movements, and ye have turned our marriage bed into a watch post.”

“I cannae ignore danger because ye dislike the precautions.”

“What danger, Oscar?” Ceana demanded. “What do ye believe will happen if I climb the stairs, keep a ledger, or hold yer children?”

His fingers curled around the edge of the desk. His mouth opened, then closed. For a man who had rules for every hour, he had absolutely no name for the fear governing them.

“If ye keep me trapped in the name of savin’ me, Oscar, ye will lose me again.”

Oscar swallowed, unable to say anything else.

CHAPTER 31

For a minute, all Oscar could do was stare at her. She stood between him and the door, close enough for him to see the quick pulse in her throat. One step back, and she would place her hand on the doorknob.

He wanted to tell her to sit down.

The command reached his tongue before he caught it. He bit the inside of his cheek, and the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

Ceana’s gaze dropped to his lips. “Ye were about to order me into that chair, were ye nae?”

“Aye.”

“That is the trouble.”

His hands remained braced on the desk where he had accused her of deceiving him. The wood pressed into his palms as she stepped closer.

“Ye interrupt work I am capable of doin’. Ye have forbidden the stairs and ordered the servants to report what I eat and how long I rest.” Her fingers closed around the folds of her gown. “Does any of that nae sound strange to ye?”

Oscar’s grip tightened.

“And every night,” Ceana continued, “ye lie across the chamber and watch me from the chair as though our marriage bed has become another dangerous place.”

“Every precaution was meant to keep ye safe.”

“Safe for what kind of life?” she asked.

The question stripped every defence from his mouth.

“I returned because ye asked me to,” she said. “I returned because ye finally believed me. I didnae return to become a body everyone else governs.”

His gaze fell to her belly. He had watched it change all week and denied himself the touch he craved. Each night, desire had kept him awake on the floor while Ceana lay within reach. He wanted to lay his palm on her belly. He wanted her pressed against him, warm and willing, with nothing between them.

His hands stayed on the desk.

“Ye have been ill,” he said. “A fall on the stairs could hurt ye. Too little food could weaken ye.”

“But that isnae just it, is it? There is somethin’ else. Somethin’ else ye see when ye look at me. What is it?”

Oscar lowered his head, his breath scraping through his throat. He might as well come out with it. “As ye ken, me first wife died givin’ birth to Tommy.”

Ceana’s fingers loosened around her gown.

“Paisley was seven, but since she was a girl, the clan still expected a son.” He pushed off the desk and flexed his achin’ fingers. “Me first wife was me friend. She trusted me when we agreed to another pregnancy for the sake of the clan.”

The study blurred at the edges. He fixed his gaze on a dark mark in the wood.

“Her labor lasted through the night. The midwives spoke plainly at first, then their voices changed.” He swallowed thickly. “Blood soaked through one cloth while they reached for another.”