Page 44 of The Mad Highlander
“I cannae,” he said. “I have too much to do. We will reconvene this another time, but there are things to be done.”
“Please,” Iris begged. “Please stay with me.”
“I would if I could.”
“Och, look at me! I sound like a scared wee lass! It seems I’m nae above beggin’.” Iris looked away at the window where the sky had turned black.
“Nay one is above beggin’ when it is somethin’ they truly want,” the Laird told her. “If I were put in the situation, I would beg for yer body if I couldnae have it.”
“I would give it to ye.”
“I ken ye would, and I want it, but nae tonight.”
Iris folded her arms. She looked down at the necklace against the bare skin above her dress, and she found some consolation there.
“I understand.” She looked at Cayden and smiled. There was a fire in his eyes that told her he did want more of her. “And I appreciate that ye came to see me at all when ye dinnae have to. Ye brought me a gift, too, and that was very thoughtful of ye—more than I deserve when I am so petulant and moody. And ye were the one who saved me yesterday. I should be the one buyin’ gifts.”
“What use would I have for gifts? I have everything I need.”
Iris laughed at the way he said it so gruffly as if a gift would be an imposition. It helped to break the tension that she had built.
“Will ye nae stay just a few minutes? I can see that ye have a lot on yer mind. Ye can share it with me. Is it really true that one of yer council members was behind the attack? And what news of me brother?”
The Laird’s shoulders slumped a little—he had been carrying a great weight around. Iris knew that he had.
“Sit for a few minutes,” she suggested. “I ken ye cannae stay, but I would like yer company for a short while if ye can give me a second gift tonight.”
Cayden smiled resignedly. He walked to the chair and collapsed down into it with a thud—it was a wonder that the chair did not crack and break.
“Aye, we had a traitor in our midst,” Cayden told her. “He’s locked in the dungeon now. I spoke to him this afternoon. I dinnae ken what to make of him—he shows some strength and conviction, but when I look him in the eye, I can see the coward he is.”
“What will ye do with him?” Iris stretched her back.
“I dinnae ken yet.” Cayden chuckled and shook his head slowly. “I would have chopped his head off afore he reached the dungeon a month ago, but I took the time to question him, and even then, I wasnae rash after. The same with the man who attacked ye. He is in the dungeon and nae in a grave. Ye really are infuriatin’ with how ye have changed me. People are goin’ to think I am nae really as mad as they say. I was thirsty for bloodyesterday, but I lay with ye last night, and some of that thirst has been quenched. I dinnae ken if that is a good thing or nae.”
“I think it is,” Iris replied. “I’m nae sayin’ what should happen to any of them, but I do think it takes more strength to be restrained than impulsive. If ye think it is right to take a head after that, then so be it.”
Cayden chuckled again before smiling at Iris. He appeared more relaxed as he sat back in the chair, arms resting on the chair arms. “I havenae heard many women talkin’ about takin’ a man’s head.”
Iris turned up her lip. “Aye, well, he deserves it after what he did to Robyn and me—what he would have done if ye had nae turned up.” Tears came to her eyes. She had not cried about it since the attack and believed she was over it, but the emotion swelled like a crashing wave and overwhelmed her.
“No, ye dinnae have to get up.” Iris reached out her hand when she saw the Laird move—he had so much on his plate already.
“Well, if I cannae come to ye, ye will have to come to me,” the Laird beckoned her. “Come on! Come sit on me lap.”
Iris felt a little silly, as if she were a small child, but she was not giving up the opportunity to get closer to the Laird. She got up and went to him, dropping herself onto his lap and pressing her cheek to his head. Cayden wrapped one arm around her and placed the other on his cheek. Iris sunk into his warmth, feeling safe once again. She continued to cry, wetting the front of hisshirt, but he did not move once or say a word as she wept—he only held her.
Iris eventually sniffed. “I’m sorry. I dinnae ken what came over me. I havenae cried since the attack in the woods, and I think it all came rushin’ back to me.”
“Cry all ye want.” Cayden rubbed her back. “Ye went through somethin’ most people dinnae go through. I’ve been into battle with men, and I’ve seen some of them cry afterward. It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of. Dinnae be ashamed.”
“Nay, I’m nae,” Iris whispered into his chest. She placed her hand on the wet patch and felt embarrassed all over again. “Och, look what I’ve done to ye.”
“Dinnae worry about that. This shirt has been through a lot worse. In fact, right where yer head is lying is where I spilled some marmalade this mornin’”
“What?” Iris gasped.
The booming laugh almost shook the room. Or it felt like it with the way she shook atop him. She had only just been crying, but the sadness was engulfed by the Laird’s laughter, leaving her feeling better in an instant.
