Page 48 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
“I would ask that, perhaps,” Aileen hesitated, suddenly feeling too anxious to continue. “I mean, we daenae have to do it this moment, what with Carswell coming in mere days?—”
“Carswell doesnae concern me,” Gerald reminded her. “And even with the Highlands working toward peace, there willnae be a time where I daenae need to prepare for a fight, or fortify me keep for the safety of me clan.” He stood, Aileen’s eyes darting away as he leaned over her, his chest so much closer than before. She could smell the wood shavings intermingled with his sweat—he must have been deep in his work before she came in to interrupt it. “There will never be a proper time to discuss this, Aileen. I will never stop being the Laird of MacLiddel.”
“And unless ye say otherwise, I willane stop being its lady.” Aileen sighed, turning away from Gerald as her face boiled over. Hot, it was so very,veryhot. “But, unlike ye, I daenae ken what that means. If I am to be yer lovin’ spouse, yer partner in politics, or simply a doll ye store away until I am needed back on display?”
He grasped her arm so suddenly that she lost hold of her water bucket. It crashed to the floor and splashed water across its stonework foundation, and Aileen found herself practically touching noses with her husband. Gerald looked … angry wasn’t quite the right word. Frustrated, perhaps? Irritated, but not with her specifically.
“Ye are nae a doll, Aileen,” Gerald stated plainly. “And I willnae have ye think otherwise. Ye are the lady of this clan, and I …”His tone softened, his grip loosening against her arm. “I admit to confusing ye on what exactly that means.”
His eyes looked so soft. Nothing at all like his beastly moniker.
“This isnae me area of expertise,” he chuckled humorously. “So, I suppose we must decide ourselves what yer title means. What tasks I should entrust to ye, what boundaries we shouldnae cross. To avoid any …”
“To avoid any mishaps?” Aileen offered.
Gerald’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Took the words right out of me mouth.” He released his hold completely, allowing Aileen the choice to leave or remain at such an intimate proximity. While she did take a step away, she didn’t move to leave the study altogether. This wasn’t exactly the full answer she wanted—maybe there was a different answer she wanted to hear, deep down inside. But, at the very least, she would no longer wander the castle halls without purpose.
“I think we can both agree that Mollie’s care is yer priority,” Gerald began. “And, if ye’re nae against me influence?—”
“Nay, of course nae,” Aileen insisted. “Ye’ve been such a help with her. And the military side of things—I have nay experience in any of that, so I will stay out of yer way involving the keep’s defense.”
Gerald nodded in agreement. “But when it comes to daily maintenance—handling the servants’ tasks, keeping in communication with Ms. Blair, sending and receiving missives from the other lairds and scheduling meetings and events—especially now, with me so focused on the keep’s defense, I havenae had the chance to pay attention to the little details of management.”
A burning excitement lit in Aileen’s chest. “I would gladly oversee the keep’s day-to-day! If ye trust me to run it as ye like?—”
“I trust ye to run it properly. And if it isnae to me standards, well,” a small smirk crossed his face, and Aileen felt her heart skip a beat. “I have nay place to complain, given I didnae take the time to teach ye meself.”
It wasn’t quite what she wanted, Aileen realized. Part of her hoped that Gerald would profess her love to her, admit that he had similarly growing feelings for her, and that their previous intimacy within the study hadn’t been simply a product of high emotion.
But this was certainly better than walking on eggshells around him. She had a goal, a focus outside of simply caring for Mollie, and she was willing to put her whole heart into it. “Then, we have a deal, dear husband?” Aileen held out her hand, though Gerald only looked at it curiously.
“Last I was told,” he began with a slightly teasing tone to his voice. “I wasnae permitted to touch ye anymore.”
Aileen let out an irritated scoff. “If ye’re nae going to take this seriously, I’ll just assume this conversation was another attempt to make fun of—” A startled squeal escaped her throat as Gerald reached out to grasp her hand back. Not to shake it, but to place a delicate kiss between her knuckles.
“We have an understanding, sweet wife,” he replied coolly. Even so, Aileen’s face continued to burn well after she excused herself from his study, still feeling faint as she carried her supplies back to the kitchen.
26
Nathan arrived the next day at MacLiddel keep. Though unlike the Laird of MacDonnell, the man-at-arms was not greeted by the head of an arrow.
Gerald’s guard knew full well to ask for an approaching figure’s identity first, so Nathan managed to get through the gate without major incident. And it wasn’t long before Mollie was completely bewitched by their newest guest, tailing him throughout the castle with a dozen questions about the life of a hound master.
By mid-afternoon, everyone but Gerald had followed Aileen out toward the back garden—though, he admitted, it was less a garden and more a snow-covered field. Nathan had spent what felt like hours teaching Mollie basic commands for Bannock, using his own deerhounds as an example.
Gerald watched as a massive pack of dogs darted past his window for the umpteenth time, careful not to nick his thumbwith his carving knife as he vaguely worked on his study’s bookshelf. Every so often, he could lean back further and catch a glimpse of Aileen, bundled in a fur cloak but with her hood pulled down to allow her long mess of hair to spill out freely.
“Like a deer amidst the wintry woods,” Gerald mused, his knife continuing to pull alongside the grain of his bookshelf. He felt a note of pride for how he handled their most recent encounter; certainly afterwards, Aileen seemed far more confident in herself, especially around him.
She’d immediately taken to her set task as Lady of MacLiddel, spending the entirety of her morning organizing the servants and giving the castle a good scrubbing. It certainly lifted morale, as the various guards about the keep seemed more at ease amidst the tidied interior. And with the MacDonnells’ unexpected visit, Gerald was certain they viewed him as a laird who had a strong handle on his territory.
He found himself staring longer than usual at Aileen, his knife continuing to glide across the bookshelf. The cold had added a beautiful flush to her cheeks, with plumes of thick breath slipping between her scarlet lips that held a perpetually sweet smile. He’d have been thrilled to taste those lips again last night, but unlike their other interaction within his study, Gerald ensured he held fast to his vow.
It was a touch easier, what with his wife giving him the command to stay his hand, but even so, he couldn’t help but tease her as they spoke. She seemed so eager to please him, to take on responsibilities and prove herself as a capable lady. Hewondered how far that eagerness extended; how far they could have gone, had Gerald not put a stop to their intimate moment.
“Oh, damn it all!” The Laird of MacLiddel continued to swear as his carving knife clattered to the ground, droplets of blood following after as he jerked his hand toward his chest. A clean slice of flesh ran red across his palm, and he quickly moved to his desk to find a roll of spare linen.
Distracted—he had been so easily distracted, and by a woman he’d openly insisted on wanting no further relationship with. Or, perhaps a deepening relationship was a more apt description; it was far too late to go back to being simple strangers. But at least this way, Gerald could try to keep things professional between them. A pair of companions, working side-by-side to ensure the Highlands’ future was no longer soaked in blood.
