Page 33 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
More laughter rumbled deep from within Hector’s chest. “At least I’m nae so delusional to think I could keep an arm’s length from Katie. But, ye let me ken how it works out for ye.”
Gerald grumbled something incoherent under his breath, pouring yet another glass from his supply. Ally indeed; he was suddenly regretting allowing so many nosy lairds within his castle in such a short time frame.
17
On the insistence of Aileen, guest rooms were prepared for the visiting Lairds and Ladies. And as Mollie and the girls were finally lulled to sleep, Aileen found herself wandering the quiet halls of the keep. It certainly had been a busy day, what with three major clans visiting—and all on her very first day as Lady MacLiddel.
More than anything, she needed a calming cup of tea to help her sleep tonight, especially if Gerald chose to finally join her in their joint bedchambers. She doubted he would, but it wouldn’t be the worst place to try to discuss with him the matters of last night.
Or she would simply get her chance upon passing by his study. The door hung ajar, its latch still hanging out in its broken state. Aileen frowned slightly, wondering why the Laird hadn’t taken the time to fix it yet, only to scold herself afterward.
He had to have been just as busy as she’d been the last few days—even more, perhaps, what with the discovery of herbrother’s treachery. Fixing a lock must have seemed like such an insignificant matter in comparison.
The sound of a knife carving wood caught her ear, and Aileen couldn’t help but peek inside. Sure enough, she found Gerald hunched over the bookcase, the face of Cailleach still in the works, while her attention turned to the wintry scene.
She spotted a new scattering of snowflakes and the border of a pine forest, though she found particular interest in a few deer carvings amidst the trees. In particular, there was a pair of deer—an adult and her fawn—seemingly being stalked by a large wolf in the distance.
Or … perhaps the wolf was strolling with them at a distance? Guarding the pair from what looked to be a collection of stag leering their way, from the arrows of hunters lurking behind the snowbanks. Aileen’s hand clutched against her chest, her heart racing frantically. She was just projecting her own desires, wasn’t she? Her scenario hardly made any sense—what interest would a beast have in protecting such easy prey?
“If ye’re goin’ to watch over me shoulder, I’d rather ye daenae do it lurkin’ outside me door,” Gerald called out.
Aileen let out a panicked squeak, quickly pushing the door open completely. “Sorry! I hadnae meant to linger for so long.” Even then, she found herself lingering beneath the arch, watching as his arms flexed while peeling away the layers of the bookcase. This was it; the perfect time to talk to him properly about lastnight. To apologize for her outburst, to try to find a way forward that satisfied both of them.
Aileen remained frozen in place.
Gerald sighed softly, setting his tools aside before standing to face her fully. “Do ye need something, lass?”
He was inviting her to speak. He was giving her the opportunity to start the conversation how she wanted to. Aileen’s eyes darted around the study, uncertain as to what exactly she was looking for.A distraction, she realized.A reason to delay the inevitable.
“Were … ye interested in carving lessons?” Gerald risked a guess.
Oh,Godsno. She hastily shook her head, finally spotting a pile of books stacked neatly along his desk. “I … I wanted to borrow one of those! Ah … Mollie wanted a particular story, but we didnae bring any from Carswell, and …”
Gerald’s brow narrowed slightly. It was a terrible lie, and shame spread hot and quick across Aileen’s face. Nevertheless, her husband gestured her in, turning back to the bookshelf as he settled back into his work. She nodded her thanks, quickly scurrying in and out with whatever book she could get her hands on, first. “Thank ye, again.”
Gerald nodded, his back still turned away.
For a moment, Aileen lingered in the hall, staring in at the study as she watched her husband carve through wood. She watched his shoulders strain beneath his linen shirt, his arms flex and reach across as his hands delicately worked to free the art beneath the surface.
Each curl of shaving that fluttered to the ground sent a pleasant shiver across Aileen’s skin. She wanted nothing more than to replacehis woodcarving knife, to be held by his tender grasp, and to be worked against a sturdy surface. The thought caused her face to heat further, and she fanned herself with her free hand.
“Did … ye need to speak further with me, sweet wife?”
An opening. He was giving her another chance. He wanted to have this talk as well. Aileen opened her mouth, her tongue numb as a dozen thoughts crossed her mind. She wanted to touch him, but she also wanted to respect his boundaries and keep her distance.
She wanted to tell him the truth, but wasn’t sure herself what that possibly could be. She wanted to kiss him, slap him for sending her such confusing, mixed signals. More than anything, Aileen wanted things not to be … so complicated.
“Nay. Just…wanted to wish ye a good night, dear husband.”
Gerald couldn’t help but feel disappointed as Aileen’s footsteps faded behind him. He backed away from the bookcase, rolling his shoulders while absentmindedly staring at the work he’d done that night. He knew exactly what she wanted—he’d wanted the exact same thing—and yet, Gerald had remained silent, had allowed Aileen to slip out of his grasp with such a pathetic excuse.
A heavy sigh escaped his chest as he ran a hand through his hair, briefly pulling it upright into a loose ponytail held by his hand. “I could have started the conversation,” he reminded himself.
And yet, a small part of him wondered if this was for the best. Things were awkward, yes, but Aileen was keeping her distance now. Just as he wanted from the start, the pair were married, yes, but hardly acted the part. He sighed again, grasping his knife as he went back to work. For now, he was content to let things play out as they were.
Aileen finally managed to walk herself to the kitchen, immediately setting to work on making herself a cup of tea. She dug around the various cabinets for a mug, setting it on the countertop before setting a pot of water over the still-burning hearth. Even in the middle of summer, the temperature fluctuated between fairly crisp and bitterly cold. Aileen was certain every hearth remained lit year-round within Lindell.
As the pot began to finally bubble over, a pair of soft footsteps caused Aileen to gasp, and she immediately adopted her visage of Lady of the castle. She turned gracefully to greet her unexpected visitor, only to immediately break posture as Sarah’s sleepy face appeared beneath her flickering candle. “Aileen?” Sarah rubbed her eyes, drawing closer to her friend in disbelief. “I thought I heard someone rummaging about the kitchen—what are ye doin’ up still, love?”
