Page 21 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
“I would be happy to help ye clean a bit,” Aileen began, kneeling to gather a few papers up into her arms.
“Nay, it’s really nay trouble,” Gerald insisted. “Mollie should learn to handle big messes like this.”
“She’s only six,” Aileen argued back, crossing the room to set the papers back on his desk.
“I learned swordplay by six,” Gerald replied curtly.
“How on earth is that the same as cleaning up a disaster like this?”
Gerald frowned, rising to his feet to look at Aileen. She tried to dart out of his range, barely able to snag a book off the ground before her arm was grasped gently by the Laird.
“I told ye, I daenae need any help from ye.”
“What sort of person daenae wants help?” Aileen asked.
“Someone who has a particular style of organization,” Gerald grumbled. “And alreadytoldhis new guest to stay out of his life.”
“And yet, the guest’s little sister is welcome to stir up chaos?” Aileen inquired, her brow rising slightly.
Gerald let out a huff, pulling her a bit closer. To his surprise, Aileen didn’t necessarily fight it, allowing herself to be pulled until she was practically pressed against his chest. He locked eyes with her, the swirling brown hiding tinges of green beneath their seemingly simple surface.
He couldn’t help but stare, move his hand along the length of Aileen’s forearm, and settle it against her shoulder. His other hand gingerly moved toward her waist, and she visibly flinched.
“Sorry,” Aileen apologized.
“Daenae be.” Gerald moved his hand higher, bracing against her back as the pair’s lips just barely touched. Then, much to his own surprise, he found himself leaning closer, and suddenly, he was sharing a kiss with his bride-to-be.
Aileen was stunned. Pleasantly so, of course. She hadn’t been expecting any affection whatsoever from the Laird of MacLiddel, especially after making his expectations for their married life crystal clear.
They were to remain strangers, contractually obligated to be seen in public together, but to remain at arm’s length when within the castle proper. And now—now, that same laird waskissing her with such surprising passion, his tongue edging into her mouth in a desperate bid to explore further.
But before she could fully start to enjoy the moment, Gerald suddenly pulled away, leaving her standing in a rather confused daze. Aileen watched as his posture stiffened considerably, as his fists clenched at his side, and that familiar, dark scowl crossed his face. Once more, the beast had entered the room with her, and she was positivelyfuriousat the fact.
“Ignore that,” Gerald stated coolly. “That was … that was a mistake. I hadnae meant … ye may go now. Bring Mollie back when she finishes with Ms. Blair.”
It was the first time Aileen had felt so powerfully indignant about something. Her whole life had been unjust, but in this particular moment … she could not let the statement stand on its own.
“We … I willnae simply forget about that!” She flinched slightly at his furrowed gaze, but the fire in her stomach refused to allow her to back down, now. “We need to talk about it, Gerald.”
“There is nae a thing to?—”
“Daenae treat me as a wee foolish bairn,” Aileen snapped. “Or as a pathetic woman who will bow to the slightest showing of human decency.” Even she was surprised at the anger in her voice.
Gerald seemed equally so, though he did a far better job subduing his shock than she had. “I ken ye daenae wish to complicate yer life with me own troubles. I would nae ask ye to do as such. But it cannae be possible to simply be strangers after our marriage. Ye must ken that!”
Gerald’s expression remained stubbornly aloof. Only his eyes briefly betrayed a look of realization, a silent agreement with Aileen’s statement. But he wouldn’t admit it aloud—Aileen realized that all too soon—and thus, she folded her hands and offered a nod.
“Very well. I willnae force ye to hold this conversation now. But daenae think I will forget, husband-to-be.” With that, Aileen turned and slipped out the study door, doing her best to close it fully before finding her way back to Mollie.
11
Gerald stared long and hard at his study door, well after Aileen’s footsteps had faded down the hall. His heart continued to flutter in his chest, completely gobsmacked at how tenacious his bride truly was. The bite in her tone was … unexpected. Then again,hehad been just as unpredictable.
“Why’d ye kiss her, ye eejit?” Gerald growled under his breath, still staring at the door as, seemingly without any force or outside push, it slowly creaked ajar.
“Bloody broken latch,” he hissed, stomping across his room before slamming the door shut and locking it properly. He was furious—more furious than after learning of Marcus’ betrayal.
That alone seemed an impossible feat, and yet somehow, one woman had managed to twist his insides more than the backstabbing committed by his lifelong friend. Another snarl freed its way from Gerald’s throat, and he turned tohis bookshelf, the half-carved face staring blankly back. He grumbled something under his breath, marched toward said bookshelf, and snatched his woodcarver’s knife from one of the shelves.
