Page 54 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

He looked up, and his gaze dropped when she shifted again and winced, then returned to her face. Without comment, he poured water into the cup beside the basin and brought it to her.

“Mairi is waitin’ outside. She will come in when ye summon her.”

Ceana reached for the cup and tried to sit. The soreness between her legs sharpened, forcing her to brace one palm against the mattress.

“Take me hand,” Oscar offered.

His grip was firm enough to lift her and careful enough to make every place he had touched the night before tingle. Once she was sitting upright with the sheet gathered beneath her arms, their eyes met. Oscar glanced at the blanket over her thighs, his breath deepening.

“Heather and David mean to leave after breakfast,” he said.

Her fingers tightened around the cup. “Today?”

“Aye.”

Mairi entered at Ceana’s call and helped her wash and dress while Oscar finished lacing his boots. He waited until the maid had fastened her gown before leaving.

Ceana entered the breakfast room more slowly than usual and chose the chair with the thickest cushion. A letter bearing a broken Gilmore seal lay beside David’s plate, attached to an open, stained packet.

Oscar sat at the head of the table with one hand beside his cup, composed enough to make the man from the night before seem like an entirely different person. He cast a glance at his wife, taking in the gentle way she lowered herself into her chair. His thumb pressed once against the rim of his cup.

David folded the letter. “Bryce calls Daphne’s escape a breach of the alliance we discussed. Yer marriage is named as a second insult against his house.”

“What does he intend to do?” Ceana asked.

“He demands an answer or satisfaction, but he gives nay honest shape to either.” The strain around his eyes had deepened since the wedding celebration.

Heather reached across the table and put her hand on his. “We must return to Morrag. If Daphne comes home or sends word, I willnae have her find us gone.”

“And Bryce may try to attack our tenants while he thinks us divided,” David added. “I need to go back to Morrag before he starts thinkin’ that our silence means weakness.”

Ceana set down the loaf she had grabbed and picked up a spoon. “Ye would be ridin’ toward the danger he has threatened.”

“Lennan will instruct men to escort ye,” Oscar said. “They will remain with ye until ye are safely in Morrag land.”

David’s shoulders stiffened. “Havin’ MacKane soldiers escort us may look like a challenge.”

“They are protection,” Oscar countered. “Any man who sees a challenge in a guarded carriage has already come lookin’ for one.”

David held his gaze, then tucked the letter in the packet.

Tommy had abandoned his porridge during the talk of alliances and borders. He looked from Oscar to Ceana. “What changed when ye married her?”

Ceana’s spoon paused above her bowl.

“Ceana already lives here,” he continued. “She eats with us, and she comes to family hour.”

Every answer that occurred to Ceana belonged upstairs, behind closed doors. She shifted in her seat and regretted it at once. From where he was, Oscar caught the small tightening of her mouth, and his fingers closed around his cup.

“She is still Ceana,” he replied. “But she is also Lady MacKane now.”

Tommy frowned. “What does a lady do?”

Oscar looked at Ceana before answering. “Our people may bring her their troubles. She must learn our customs, and we must learn her judgment.”

Paisley lifted her eyes from her bread. She studied Ceana, one thumb pressing into the crust.

“I will take ye to the village this afternoon,” Oscar continued. “Ye should see how our people live before their troubles reach this table.”