Page 55 of Eloping with the Laird
‘Open it for me,’ he asked when she returned to his side and settled into the chair next to his bed.
He knew the moment she recognised the water-stained letter. The colour drained from her cheeks and every muscle in her body tensed. ‘Read it,’ he asked, his words softening as they fell.
She stared at it a moment longer and then met his gaze, snapping the box shut. ‘I have no need to. I know the words by heart.’
‘I found it clutched in your hand that day when you fled out into the storm. I didn’t know what to make of it or your fevered confessions at first, but when I pieced some of it together, I didn’t wish to ask you. It felt like a betrayal because Iknowyou, Moira. I know who you are. You are a good, decent, intelligent woman. The best that I have ever known. What it must have taken for you to...if that is what you did—’ He paused as she crumpled into the chair.
The first tremble began in her hand and soon travelled up and along her frame until all of her was a shaking, bent form before him like a beautiful flower crushed by a pounding rain, all of its buds stripped from it. He slid closer to the edge of the bed, clutched her hands in his own and tried to comfort her. ‘You can tell me anything or nothing. It is yours to keep or share. I just wanted you to know that your secret is safe with me.’
For moments, she sat trembling, and then she cleared her throat and straightened herself.
‘I could never have imagined it. That day,’ she began. Her words rang distant as if she had transported herself back to the very day and moment of the event. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand and waited for her to continue.
‘It was a gorgeous summer morning. I still remember the fragrant smell of the flowers drifting into our chamber window, so heady, rich and full of bloom. I could hardly wait to be out of doors.’
Rory nodded at her, and she continued.
‘After I spent some time in the gardens, I came back into my chambers to find him tearing through my belongings. Letters, clothes and books were scattered about as if they had been thieved and rooted through for coin. He accused me of being with another.’ She let out a small chuckle. ‘As if I ever wished for any undue or extra attentions in that manner. Not after—’ She stilled, the smile dying from her lips. She swallowed and continued.
Steady.He clutched her hand.Steady.Rory commanded himself to not react. He would listen and not respond. The rage tightening his chest would not be set free. Not today at least.
‘I had learned by then to be calm and still around him when he was in such a state. And so I asked him what had happened to make him think such. I had learned to never refuse his attentions, and spent no time with any other man about the castle. I promised him I had been chaste and loyal to him and that his worries were unfounded.’
She pulled her hand away and nestled her body into the chair, tucking her legs beneath her and wrapping her arms around her stomach, making her a wee slip of herself. Her gaze drifted behind him. ‘As you can imagine, he did not believe me, and I was not quick enough to escape his blows. Before I even knew what was happening, I was on the ground scrambling to free myself from his hold.’
Rory clenched the bedclothes tightly in his fisted hands. His heart hammered. His blood thickened.
‘He was so angry. I will never forget the rage in his eyes, the hateful words that fell from his lips. I knew in that moment that he truly wished to kill me. That I would die if I did not escape his hold.’
Her hands gripped the material of her dress.
‘I kicked him and managed to free one arm. Feeling along the floor with my hand, I found a downed candlestick and hit him with it. He cursed and relaxed his hold enough for me to free myself and run, so I did. I fled out the back entrance. No one saw me, or so I thought. I disappeared into the gardens and stayed there until nightfall. When I returned for our evening meal, I was told Peter had left on horseback to see my father. I was sick with dread as to what he would relay to him. But the next day, we received word that he had been found dead along the road to Glenhaven. No one knows if he was attacked by thieves or thrown from his horse, but he died that night.’
‘How does that make you a murderer?’
‘Because I hit him in the head with that candlestick in my efforts to escape. That was bymyhand. He died because I hit him and left him, allowed him to travel on horse when he was injured.’
‘What of the story about him being attacked or thrown from his horse?’
‘I believe both unlikely. He was an excellent rider and few thieves were about those parts. It is not a heavily travelled road. What thieves would bother with so few people traversing it?’
‘Well, even if it was by your hand, which I’m not entirely sure that it was, he was attacking you. Any man would be justified to defend themselves in such a situation.’
She released a bitter laugh and met his gaze. Her eyes bright with unshed tears. ‘But I am no man. Just his wife.’ Her tone dropped to a harsh whisper. ‘And I had no right to defend myself, even to save my life. Not in the eyes of the law. You know that, Rory. I will hang.’
‘Nay. You will not.’ He leaned forward, took her face in his hands. ‘If it is the last thing I do, I will keep that from happening. You aremywife now.’
‘But for how long?’ she cried, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Deuces.
He didn’t know, nor did he want to. He wanted to live, but his body seemed hell-bent on another path. He couldn’t answer. He didn’t dare utter a lie to her, not now.
Whispering against her lips, he said, ‘I am here now. I am here now.’
He hoped that would somehow be enough.
‘But who is it that has sent that letter to me? The only person who knew of our fight was Enora. She was my maid, and she cleaned up the disarray in my room. And she would not betray me.’
