He looked her up and down as if he were committing every inch of her body to memory.
“It is clear by the hour what ye had thought,” Ryder said. “But there are some things that cannae be rushed. I want ye to come to me willingly, nae out of some sense of obligation. I’m nae my faither, and I will never force myself on anyone. Ye have my word on that, Lady McKenzie.”
Morgana stood before him dumbfounded.
Clearly, he wasn’t anything like his father. Even as she presented herself in nothing but her robe and shift, he rose above her feeble excuse for seduction.
She stepped back from him, wishing she had never left the confines of her chambers. At least there, she wouldn’t have embarrassed herself in such a manner.
“But what of heirs?” she mumbled as she pulled the collar of her robe tighter.
Ryder leaned back, his smile widening. “The line dies with me. I thought I made it clear the sort of arrangement this was to be. But dinnae despair. Our marriage will be consummated, but it will only happen when ye’re ready for such a commitment, nae before,” he said, his voice eerily heavy with emotion.
The words lingered in the air between them like a blade of a guillotine. Morgana’s heart sank as if it were an anchor plunging into the deep, dark sea.
“I see,” she muttered as she turned to the door. A wave of vulnerability crashed over her, threatening to knock her off her feet.
Ryder stepped in front of her, blocking her path.
“Ye dinnae even ken what it was ye were askin’ for, do ye?” he asked. He plucked a strand of her hair and stroked it with his fingers. “Ye really are that innocent, are ye nae?”
Morgana’s anger flared. “I’m nae as innocent as ye think.”
“Nay, of course nae. Ye married my faither, after all. Then again, he would eat the innocent for breakfast and devour the meek for lunch.”
“Ye really hated that man, did ye nae?” she asked.
Ryder’s left eye twitched. “I think the hour is late,” he said as he reached for the knob and pulled the door open. “Ye should get some sleep.”
“But…” Morgana protested as he ushered her out of his room.
“Goodnight.”
She stumbled into the empty hallway, hearing the door click shut behind her. Her eyes closed as she said a silent prayer. The last thing she wanted was to have an audience to her humiliation.
But much to her relief, the hallway was as silent as a grave.
Rolling her shoulders back, she pulled her robe tighter around herself and made her way back to her chambers.
Well, that was… I dinnae think that’s how such things are supposed to happen. Is it me? Does my husband nae want me?
A pang of rejection cut through her like an icicle cutting through powdery snow. It went deep and hard. She pulled in a gulp of air, trying to ignore the sting. But what was she to do?
The walk back to her room felt like trudging through the bowels of hell. By the time she reached her door, the tears were spilling over her lashes.
“Lady McKenzie?” a soft voice called from the shadows.
Morgana glanced over her shoulder, her heart soaring at the sight.
“Poppy? What are ye doin’ here? Where is Eloise? And Ronnie? I havenae seen any of ye since they—” Morgana broke off as she dashed away her tears.
“Cohen let us out of the dungeons when they took ye. He had us held up in his house for the whole day in fear that the new Laird wouldnae be so kind to ye. It wasnae until after ye were married that we were released.”
“Oh, Poppy, I missed ye so much,” Morgana croaked as she threw her arms around Poppy’s little body and squeezed her tightly. “I dinnae think ye’ll be in any danger from her on out. The Laird has allowed ye all to stay here with me if ye want.”
“Do ye mean it?” Poppy asked as she looked up at her elder sister, her eyes filled with hope and awe. “We can stay here?”
“The Laird has granted ye permission to stay here if ye want.”