Page 58 of Wedded to the Twisted Highlander
“Aye,” he relented. “And ye need yer rest.”
“Och?” Astrid asked as she arched an eyebrow. Thomas wiped the tears from her cheeks and flashed her a crooked grin. “Any reason why?”
“I’ve decided to throw a cèilidh in yer honor,” he confessed. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but I think ye need a respite from the troubles ye’ve faced.”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head. “Ye dinnae have to do that.”
He took a step closer, his resolve unwavering. He could see the pain tainting her beauty, and he wanted it to go away. But there were things that he couldn’t wish away.
“There are rumors swirling around the castle that need to be quelled,” he pressed. “Half the castle thinks ye’re avoidin’ me, while the other believes ye’re already wit’ child. I cannae have discord in the castle. The party will bring everyone together, and we’ll present a united front.”
Astrid sighed as he reached for her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers, grounding them in the moment. “I’ll keep the guest list small if it’s the crowd that ye wish to avoid.”
“Our marriage was meant to be one of convenience,” she reminded him, her voice barely above a whisper yet laced with an undeniable strength.
“Convenient for us both,” he added. “And we need to focus on the things we can change. Gossip cannae be left unchecked—it leads to nothing but problems down the road.”
After a long pause, he saw a flicker of hope—or maybe it was realization?—in her eyes. A party was a grand idea, and he knew it. How else were they to calm the rumor mill and show their clan that they were a united front? It was perfect even if Thomas had to admit that it was his brother’s idea.
“Fine,” she relented, her voice tinged with resignation as she moved to the balcony doors. “But make sure that the guest list is small.”
Thomas stood there, watching as she slipped into her room.
As the doors closed softly behind her, a wave of concern washed over him. He had felt the tremor in her voice, the unspoken fears that shadowed her every step. How could he make her feel safe in a place that should have been her sanctuary?
The question and challenge gnawed at him like a relentless ache in his chest.
With a clarity that struck him like a bolt of thunder, Thomas realized that if she didn’t feel secure, what she needed was an escort—someone steadfast and strong to guard and protect her. He did not trust himself with the task, for she was far too intoxicating. Just being in the same room as her made his head foggy.
No, if what she needed was strength and a show of power, then that was what he would do.
With a sense of urgency, he strode into his chamber and dressed swiftly. Once he was ready, he charged out the door, his mind whirling with plans and intentions.
“Duncan!” he called, his voice echoing through the darkened hallways of the castle.
As if summoned by the very sound of his name, his loyal man-at-arms appeared, ready and alert.
“What’s all this commotion? Are ye tryin’ to wake up the entire castle?” Eileen complained, her words laced with playful reproach as she rounded the corner and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
“I need a guard outside Astrid and Melody’s room,” Thomas ordered Duncan urgently.
Eileen’s expression shifted from playful to serious. “What for? What’s goin’ on? Are we under attack?”
“The castle isnae in danger. Go back to sleep before ye cause a ruckus.”
“Then why the need for a guard?” Eileen pressed.
“Because I want me wife to feel safe. Where’s the harm in that?” he countered, the conviction in his voice unwavering.
“Well, that is certainly one way to overreact,” Eileen said as she pinched the bridge of her nose. There was no hiding the irritation and bemusement in her tone.
“Who’s overreactin’?” Thomas asked.
“Why do ye want to put a guard at yer wife’s door? Ye think she may be cozyin’ up to someone else? Or maybe because ye’ve finally lost that marble that was keepin’ ye sane all these years.”
“Astrid doesnae feel safe,” Thomas answered as he looked to Duncan for help.
“So, ye want to make her feel like a prisoner?” Eileen scoffed, confusion etched on her face as she looped her arm through his and led him down the hallway. “What is it that ye’re aimin’ for?”
