Page 32 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

Ceana rose from the bench, her eyes moving from her father’s letter to the place where Oscar had concealed Muriel’s letter.

“What has happened?” she asked.

“Yer parents are comin’. Once they arrive, there will be nay cause for delay.”

Her hand curled into a fist. “What does that mean?”

“When they have witnessed yer consent, and the arrangements are complete, we will marry.”

Ceana held his gaze. The near kiss remained between them, closer now than it had been beside the locked study door.

Strangely enough, she had no counter to his statement. He had prepared himself for her resistance, but her acceptance left him with no defense at all.

Worse, he hated that she hadn’t argued with him.

Later that evening, Ceana held the page flat with her thumb while Tommy fought sleep beside her. His head had begun to sway toward her shoulder, though he lifted it whenever the warrior in the tale faced danger. Paisley sat close enough to correct him each time he interrupted, and Oscar remained in the chair across from them, even though a sealed bundle of correspondence waited near his elbow.

“The warrior should cross the river,” Ceana read. “If he stays on the road, his enemies will see him.”

“He should fight them,” Tommy said, yawning. “Then he wouldnae need the river.”

“He is outnumbered.”

Tommy shrugged. “That makes the fight better.”

Oscar took a low exhale. “The river is too deep at that point. He would lose his horse and half his supplies.”

Ceana closed the book over one finger. “Ye are only sidin’ with Tommy because neither of ye respects a sensible retreat.”

Oscar looked up at her. “A poor route remains poor whether the traveler is sensible or nae.”

Paisley laughed before covering her mouth. Oscar looked at her, and his face softened long enough for Ceana to see how differently he might appear if his duties did not occupy so much of his time and reputation.

When Ceana resumed the tale, she caught him watching her over Tommy’s bent head. The memory of his hand on her waist returned, followed by the breath that had tickled her lips before the study door opened. His gaze lowered briefly to her mouth, and she nearly stuttered.

Tommy surrendered to sleep before the warrior reached the river. His weight settled against her, one hand resting near Ness on the rug. Paisley lasted only a little longer. Her fingers closed around Ceana’s hand as her eyes fluttered shut.

Oscar rose and lifted Tommy without waking him. The boy curled against his chest while Ness followed them toward the adjoining bedchamber. Ceana stayed with Paisley until a maid came and gently pried her hand away from the girl’s loose grasp.

Oscar waited in the passage, his eyes sharp in the dark. When she joined him, he looked even more relaxed than earlier.

“Mind if I walk ye to yer room?”

“Nay.”

They walked beneath the light of widely spaced torches. His boots struck the stone in a steady rhythm while her skirts whispered beside him.

“How soon will everything change when me parents arrive?” she asked.

“The most important decision has been made,” he said. “The rest only requires witnesses and proper arrangements.”

“So me questions are no longer welcome?”

“It means we neednae renegotiate the same bargain every night.”

They reached her chamber before she could give a proper answer. She placed her hand on the handle, yet the fear Paisley had confessed earlier that morning would not allow her to let him leave.

“Paisley believes she will lose her place if yer new wife bears ye a child.”