Page 11 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

It was easy to concede to his command since her body was so heavy with pleasure and exhaustion. But she didn’t stay asleep long. Not used to sharing a bed, she woke to feel his heat on her back. She reached behind her to touch the silk-covered hardness between his muscled thighs. As she stroked him, he woke and murmured something about her being lusty. He did not seem to mind. He pushed into her from behind.

There was no pain beyond a dull soreness. From this new, exciting angle, he was able to get deeper, and his hand held her hip as he drove into her harder than the first time. She liked the pace, and a blissful moan escaped her lips.

The sound ignited him, and his thrusts came faster and faster. When the tightening in her body began this time, she welcomed it, knowing what to expect. The wonderful currents of pleasure rippled through her, and she clutched his fingers between hers.

***

Ronan glanced over at his wife in the early hours before dawn. The low light from the embers in the hearth softened her features into beautiful lines. Maybe his initial frustrations and lack of options had made her seem less appealing than she was. True, she didn’t have many womanly curves, but in sleep, she looked like a devilish angel sent to earth to torment him.

He was intrigued by how she’d responded to their joining. He’d expected someone of her age and inexperience to be timid and fearful of relations in a man’s bed, but she’d embraced them with determination and, in the end, even pleasure. He should have known Brenna wouldn’t be like other women. She’d done nothing but surprise him time and time again. She didn’t seem to fear anything, his brave wife.

The familiar pang of guilt twisted his stomach for what secrets he kept from her. But one thing that would never come between them would be another woman. He’d always known when he married, he’d remain faithful to his wife for the rest of his life.

It was his right to take a mistress if he wished, and it seemed she almost expected it. His grandsire and uncle indeed did. But his stepfather would not find honor in that behavior. The idea of a mistress was considered a weakness to the MacPherson laird, who had never strayed from Ronan’s mother, regardless of how manipulative the woman was. Ronan wouldn’t be regarded as weak. Many couples started as strangers but had been happy ever since.

Could it be the same, one day, for him and Brenna? Or would she come to hate him for what he planned now? Something far worse than taking a mistress.

“Forgive me, lass,” he whispered before slipping from their shared bed.

***

Brenna woke up late.

The heavy drapes over the windows were outlined in bright light that was only possible from a sun hung full in the sky. She was used to waking at dawn when the light was still weak. Jerking up in the unfamiliar bed, she worried she’d be scolded for being tardy to the morning meal, but her body reminded her of the reason for her fatigue. The sheet under her was marked with proof of a successful consummation.

A smile came with the memory. She was no longer a maiden—she was Ronan’s true wife. And she was in Strathspey, the Grant seat—her new home. Ignoring the sore muscles and tenderness, she washed and dressed quickly to see her husband as soon as possible. She wanted to thank him for their time together the night before. He was a most skilled lover. She had enjoyed lying with him and looked forward to doing it again as often as he wished.

Well, as soon as she fed her grumbling belly.

She walked into the hall, her gaze instantly searching for Ronan at the high table at the front. But only the laird and Ewan were seated there. The laird waved a hand at her, and Brenna sat beside him on his left since Ewan sat to his right in Ronan’s place.

“How do ye fair this morning?” the laird asked with a tender smile.

Brenna felt herself blush furiously. “Very well, thank you.”

The older man’s smile grew, and he patted Brenna on the shoulder. “Good. I’m glad for it.”

One of the serving girls brought her food, and she dug in with a hearty appetite.

“Ronan must have put on a good showing to have you this starved in the morning,” Ewan said with a mocking laugh.

She swallowed the food in her mouth, hoping she wouldn’t be expected to respond as he leaned forward to glare at her. She couldn’t help but notice the blue around his eye and the scab holding his split lip together. She wasn’t sure if it had come from his tumble the night before or if someone had given the man a thrashing. She hoped for the latter.

She felt Ewan’s gaze but had looked away again. “Where is Ronan? It’s not usual for him to sleep through the morning meal,” the man asked after her husband.

“He’s not in our chamber,” Brenna said.

She noticed the frown that had taken over the laird’s wrinkled face. Had something happened to her husband? The food turned to ash in her mouth, and she choked it down with a hard swallow.

“I’m afraid he will not be here for some time,” the man said while staring at her with something akin to pity in his eyes.

“What are you saying? Where has he gone?” Had he left her for another woman? Her chest felt like it might break apart and spill her heart upon the table.

“Ronan left before dawn for France. He will be away for a while.”

Ewan slammed his fist on the table. “Tell me you did not allow him to go off with the MacPherson bastard to fight the French.”

The laird held his hand up to stop him. “Aye. Ronan and I agreed, and I granted him leave.”

“But we only just married.”

Ewan stood. Brenna looked up to see his eyes narrowed on her.

“You have scared him away.”

“Nay,” the laird said. “That’s not why he left. He’d wanted to go for some time, and I hadn’t allowed it, not until he agreed to do his duty and marry.”

Brenna’s world splintered into a thousand painful shards. She fled from the hall and through the castle gate, not stopping until she was deep in the forest, eventually finding herself kneeling beside a wide river feeding into a loch. She needed to escape the truth, but no matter where she might run, she’d never be able to escape the terrible reality. The hurt overwhelmed her, and tears flooded her eyes. Her husband preferred to risk death in a foreign land rather than stay with her. She had asked for honesty, and he had betrayed their accord in the worst way.

She would never forgive him.