“We’re on more common ground,” Kenna agreed.
“Aye.” Marian let the Scot word slip from her tongue, causing them to laugh again.
Eventually their discussion turned to their husbands. She knew Kenna was trying to tell if Marian was satisfied by Lachlan’s apology.
“I understand his position as laird,” Marian said honestly. “I’d not think poorly of him for doing what is right for Clan MacKinlay.”
“You make it sound as if you’re not part of the clan.”
She nodded. “My being a MacKinlay is born of a complication, not a choice by either party.”
“Perhaps, but I dare say ye may have found yourself in this position at some point anyway.”
Marian tilted her head in question, taking in Kenna’s wry smile.
“Cam favors you. It’s clear to see. And I’m still waiting to hear what happened last night. Don’t you think you’ve made me wait long enough?”
Marian shook her head. “I’m afraid you’ve waited in vain, for the story is less than scandalous.”
“Go on.”
Marian explained how he’d started out on the floor. “When I woke from a nightmare, he helped me into a dry garment—”
“And ravished ye?” Kenna asked hopefully.
“No,” Marian confessed. “But he did sleep next to me. Only to offer comfort,” she added quickly when Kenna’s eyes lit up.
“It’s good for now. It won’t be long before the two of you are comfortable enough for more to blossom between you,” Kenna predicted.
Marian wasn’t so sure. Even if she did find Cameron attractive, he was a man. And men were too unpredictable.
“I know you find him daunting. It’s true he is a large man, but he has a heart to match. He’d never hurt someone who did not deserve it. He has a tender soul.”
Marian had seen evidence of that already. Yet she also remembered how charming the duke had been before she married him. He’d seemed gentle, as well, but later was revealed to be the opposite.
“A war chief with a tender soul?” Marian chuckled at the thought. “He must have something lurking deep within that can bring him to kill in battle.” Marian swallowed. To think she’d shared a bed with the man the night before, and would probably have to do so again tonight.
How much longer before he dropped the charade and took what was his by force?
Unless she willingly gave it to him first… Would that be better? Heading off the battle before it was brought to her gates? It was a common strategy for clan wars. Could it work for her?
…
Cam wasn’t sure what to expect when he got to his chamber that night. Would Mari allow him to sleep next to her as she had the night before, or would he be consigned to the floor again?
He hated to give up the ground he’d gained but knew he had to move at her pace or risk being put out altogether. His wife had been seriously wounded, and unlike those injuries of the physical nature, her inner scars would take far longer to heal. If ever. He couldn’t risk reopening them and causing her more pain.
He found Mari in bed on the side she’d slept on the night before. The big space where he’d slept spread out in welcome with the blanket turned down. Dropping his kilt, he watched as she stared at the ceiling, her hands clenching the covers by her chin until her knuckles were white with the effort.
“May I?” he asked, just to be sure. He was getting mixed messages. The bed said she was waiting for him, while her reactions stated otherwise.
She nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. He found that was common for her. She spared him quick glances but otherwise kept her gaze elsewhere.
“Did you have a pleasant day?” she asked as soon as he’d shifted into a comfortable position.
“Aye. It was good enough. Liam is coming along well with his blade. He’ll make a fine warrior.”
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with their names. Which is Liam?”