Page 22 of His Forgotten Highland Bride

Chapter Nine

Brenna stepped back from the door as if Satan waited on the other side.

She looked down at herself, dressed only in her shift. While the nights were cooler, it was still July, and the castle had remained warm after the sunny day. She was pulling on her robe when he knocked again. “One moment.”

Running her hand over her hair, she cursed at the curls. They’d been bound tightly for the day, but she’d let them loose from their pins as soon as she’d entered her chamber for the night. She went to the door and slid the bar free, letting out a huff of anger and determination. What reason did she have to make herself more presentable for the man who’d left her years ago and hadn’t had the decency to spare so much as a few words on a page in all that time? Even though she’d written to him numerous times. She did her best to put her anger aside. It wouldn’t do to lose her temper with her husband during their first private conversation.

Perhaps he planned to apologize for his behavior earlier. Maybe he wanted to explain why he hadn’t cared enough to tell her he planned to leave her behind without so much as a clue as to when he might return, if ever. She shook her head again. So much for putting her anger aside.

Nothing he could say would make her forgive him for forgetting about her for all these years.

Ronan entered the room and looked around, expecting to see someone else in her chamber. She could have laughed at the irony. The only man who’d been in her chamber since he’d left was his snake of an uncle. The man Shane had befriended and believed over her. And he surely hadn’t been invited. But after Ronan was satisfied with the emptiness of the chamber, he turned his gaze onto her and was quite thorough about it. She told herself she wouldn’t cower from his inspection. If he was unhappy, he could leave and find comfort elsewhere, just as she assumed he’d done every night he’d been away.

Perhaps he didn’t have a woman in his bed every night. He was at war. She’d seen well enough the way battle wore on even the fiercest warrior. He would have needed sleep. And did he even have a bed, or had he slept under the stars each night?

She had so many questions. She wanted to know so many things about him despite not wanting to care at all. And was he always so handsome? She’d known he was attractive, but surely he couldn’t have been this alluring five years ago when he’d made love to her.

He seemed larger, if that was possible. He’d been a man of eight and ten when he’d left, but now he seemed to carry more muscle. The room had somehow grown hotter since he’d entered. She stood straighter and looked him in the eye. Except he was not looking at her face. It seemed his gaze was hovering on her bosom. No. Perhaps a bit higher. Her chin? Nay. Her throat, where the bruises were all but gone.

She cleared her throat to shift his attention. “Is there something you wanted?”

“Aye. I would like…” He paused momentarily before answering with something she didn’t think he’d originally planned to say. “It’s late, and I’m tired from travel. I wish to sleep.” He took a seat next to the empty hearth. She’d not wanted to give him an inch, but she couldn’t help the surprise that had to have shown on her face.

“You wish to sleep here? But you are the laird. Surely, you would be more comfortable in the laird’s chambers.”

“This was my room, and my wife is still in it. I don’t need the clan to think I was cast out of my wife’s bed the first night of my return.”

She swallowed and looked at the large bed. It felt enormous and lonely most nights, but now it seemed too small to hold them both. When last they’d slept there, they had been curled up together.

Why did her body want to feel the warmth of his skin so badly? Even knowing how much pain he’d caused her? She’d been upset earlier that he’d forgotten her, but it seemed her heart was already forgetting what he was capable of. Or at least her body’s need was making it difficult to remember. Would he expect her to welcome him after he did not want to dine with her? Without realizing it, she had reached up to tug at the curls at her nape—a nervous habit.

She let go of the strands but didn’t know what else to do. It seemed her hands had no place they belonged. He had utterly befuddled her.

“Calm yerself, lass. I can sleep on the floor. I’ll not make myself a nuisance to ye. I don’t wish to sleep in a bed where you’ve lain with most of the men of the keep anyway.”

She sucked in a breath as if he’d punched her in the stomach. Had he just accused her of taking up with not one man but most of the men in the clan? “I assume you got that information from Ewan?”

“Do you deny it?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest. She was sure now he had not been so muscled before.

“Would you believe me if I denied it?” She mimicked his pose. She was not the besotted girl he’d left in the night while she slept. She was a woman hardened by anger.

“I’m not sure.” Again, his gaze drifted down to her throat. The marks were hardly visible any longer. Had someone told him what had happened?

She knew the men wouldn’t have said anything unless Ronan had asked. She only needed him to doubt Ewan, and perhaps there would be a chance to share the truth and warn him of the danger Ewan posed when he was back within the castle walls.

He stood and stepped closer. She noticed his limp was more pronounced than it had been since he’d arrived. Either it pained him more, or he was not trying as hard to hide it. Either way, lying on the chilly floor wouldn’t hurt his injury.

“Your leg is hurting you. It would be best if you slept in the bed. I promise you, it is safe. You might not believe me, but you were the last man to sleep in here with me.”

He made a sound between a sniff and a snort. “I’m sorry to say I’m good for nothing tonight. If you had any designs on reuniting, I’ll have to put you off to another night,” he said as if this information caused him more discomfort than the pain in his leg.

She shook her head quickly, putting him at ease. “I assure you, that suits me fine. I have no interest in…that,” she managed to say without making it sound like the lie it was.

“That?” he repeated with a chuckle.

She turned away to the bed as her face burned like fire. Rather than remove her robe, she got in bed with it still tied around her waist. It only took a minute to realize she’d never be able to sleep, so she shifted under the blankets to free herself from the garment without exposing herself to the man unbuckling his weapons belt.

She turned away so as not to be tempted to watch him. But while she couldn’t see him, she could still hear. The clink of his weapons as he hung them on the peg by the door. He took heavy steps as he approached the bed and set something on the nightstand where she kept her dirk. Should she have moved it?