Page 41 of A Kilted Marriage of Convenience

Sleep eluded Aidan. He was at a crossroads. On the one hand, he needed to confront Ciara about all he had discovered from her father’s letter. On the other, he had to stay away from her until he was certain he could face her and keep himself under control.

But the longer he delayed, the more it chaffed at him. He was still overcome by the pain of the betrayal. It felt like an open flesh wound, and the longer he left it unaddressed, the more it festered.

His anger and hurt were because he had allowed himself to believe that she genuinely loved him. He had opened up about some of his deepest fears to her, been his most vulnerable. He had trusted her, for the love of God! He had slept with her. The possibility that it could all have been a lie was twisting his insides violently.

There was one question he had been unable to answer all morning: what would he do if Ciara admitted to her trickery? If Keir’s letter was the truth, what would his next action be?

It was difficult to feel betrayed by someone he loved.

Feeling restless, Aidan decided to get on with it. He found Ciara in her chambers and he stood beside the open door, clearing his throat softly to get her attention.

Ciara beamed at him. That broke his heart harder than her father’s letter. No doubt she was probably glad he had not disappeared like he had the first time they lay together.

“How are ye today?” Aidan asked, trying to keep the consternation he had been feeling out of his voice. “Did ye sleep well?”

Ciara cleared her throat, glancing toward the maid who was still clearing her breakfast tray. “Aye, I did,” she replied, blushing faintly. “Thank ye.”

Her shyness had an allure, but Aidan could not decide if it was genuine or false.

“I just spoke with Darragh,” he said, stepping into the room properly. “He says that the priest is available now, and that we can move on with the marriage arrangements earlier than we had planned.”

Ciara clapped her hands in delight, covering her mouth as she laughed loudly.

Aidan was taken aback by the sincerity of her reaction. There was no hint of pretense, which added to his confusion. If she truly loved him, why would she continue to deceive him and his family?

“Och, that’s just wonderful!” Ciara exclaimed, breaking through his musing. “How soon can we get married, then?”

“Very soon, I suppose...” he replied, trailing off, thoughts plaguing his mind.

Maybe I can give her a chance to open up to me herself by asking her about her father.

“During the raid last night,” Aidan asked narrowing his eyes, “did ye get a chance to speak with yer father? Maybe tell him ye didnae want to go back home?”

“Nay,” Ciara replied, somewhat hesitantly, it seemed. “I didnae get a chance to speak with him. There were too many guards about and everything happened in quite a hurry.”

Two water maids entered the chamber and filled up the tub for Ciara’s morning bath. He realized that this was not the best time to have the conversation he wanted, and he would need a more private moment if he expected Ciara to open up at all.

“Say,” Aidan started, developing a plan, “how would ye like to go riding with me this morning? It’s a fine day today, and I ken a fine meadow beyond the fields.”

“Aye! That would be delightful, thank ye!”

Aidan gave her a curt bow then left her to have her bath. Reaching the stables, he found his horse and started tending to the animal as a means to distract himself.

“I dinnae have apples for ye today, darling,” he said, chuckling.

Walking the horse round to the front of the castle, he saw Ciara descending the stairs to the courtyard. She was wearing a leather jerkin, leather gloves, sturdy riding boots and a riding skirt. All in all, she cut a striking figure, her fine hair in an efficient braid down her back.

She smiled from ear to ear and waved when she saw him. Aidan smiled back as he helped her on the horse. He vaulted on behind her, taking the reins in one hand and balancing Ciara around the waist with the other.

“Have ye ever gone riding before?” Aidan asked tentatively, shifting to find his balance.

“Nay,” Ciara replied, holding tightly to the saddle. “My father never let me go for fear of me hurting myself.”

“Right, are ye afraid?”

“Slightly, but I trust ye.” She turned back to glance at him, smiling.

This dratted woman is too beautiful!