Page 20 of Taken By the Ruthless Highlander
“Morgana, what on earth are ye doin’ up so early? I thought ye’d be tuckered out and nae come out for a fortnight,” Orella teased as Morgana hurried over to her.
“Aye, well, I suppose there are just some habits that I cannae break, even for marriage,” Morgana answered.
“Ain’t that the truth? It’s like I have been tellin’ Cohen; he needs to put his socks over the hearth so they dry faster. But does he listen to me? Nay, of course nae. And why? Because we’re married. If I was his mistress, he’d listen.”
“Would ye ever want to be the other woman?” Morgana asked as her gaze strayed to the windows of the castle.
She couldn’t help but hope to catch a glimpse of her husband, even if for a fleeting moment.
“Of course nae. Nay wife wants that. Nae even a gently bred lady. Sometimes, though, things dinnae happen the way we want them to,” Orella replied, resting a hand on Morgana’s shoulder. “And if ye’re hopin’ to catch the Laird, he’s gone huntin’.”
“Aye, the cook told me when I had hoped to fix his first meal,” Morgana muttered as she leaned down to pluck a daisy from the flowerbed.
“Well, if it’s a meal ye want to fix…” Orella trailed off, jabbing her elbow into Morgana’s side.
“Oh, right,” Morgana said, a flush rising to her cheeks. “I wanted to prepare a feast for ye—and, of course, Cohen. To thank ye. Ye are the only ones who have stood up for me durin’ this trial.”
“It wasnae a trial; it was a bloodbath. The council is still hungry for blood. Just because they havenae made a move yet, doesnae mean they willnae. According to Cohen, some of them arenae at all pleased with yer marriage.”
“Nay,” Morgana huffed. “I dinnae suppose they would be. But what am I to do?”
“Well, maybe organize a banquet for some of the other council members,” Orella suggested. “Everyone likes to have their wheels greased. Maybe if ye extend an olive branch…”
“They still believe I killed the former Laird, and until I prove them wrong, their suspicion will always be hangin’ over my head. I’ll always be lookin’ over my shoulder.”
“It willnae always be like this,” Orella insisted, with a cheery smile that felt out of place.
“That’s easy for ye to say; ye have a lovin’ husband,” Morgana pointed out.
Orella flinched at her words. “Well, that might be stretchin’ it a bit. He cares for me and sees to my needs. Is that nae love?”
But Morgana had barely heard her, as she was busy searching the dark windows for her husband.
“I suppose,” she mumbled.
Hope rose within her as she caught a flash of movement in his study. Her eyes widened. But in a flash, all her hope was dashed to the ground.
It wasn’t the Laird, but the vile Nathan.
She tilted her head and let out a heavy sigh. “I just thought there would be more, ye ken? A spark or an all-encompassing feeling.”
“Ye’ll only find that sort of love in books. The real stuff is richer and far harder to find. That’s the sort of love ye want to experience.”
“How, though? How can I gain favor with the Laird?”
“If there’s one thing I ken, is that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Orella said with a smile. “Get him to have dinner with us. I guarantee ye, he’ll be in love with ye within the week.”
6
Ryder took a long, deep breath as he rounded the bend of the loch. The crisp morning air filled his lungs and revived his weary spirits.
It wasn’t just his marriage that had him on edge, but his new responsibilities. He knew that assuming the lairdship was going to be hard; his father wouldn’t have left it any other way. But the one thing he hadn’t accounted for was Morgana.
Even now as he charged through the mist of the Highlands, his course uncharted, she vexed him. It was as if she were a dreary shadow determined to riddle him with contempt and strife.
It didn’t matter what he did, for she constantly skipped and danced along the edges of his mind.
Ryder wished he could figure out what it was about her that drew him in. Was it the way she captivated the room? Or was it because the clan hated her, which instantly made her far more desirable to him?
