Page 56 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
Damien clenched his glass so tightly that he feared he’d break it, and he set it aside. “Should we monitor his correspondence?”
Orrick’s eyes flew open. “I dinnae think he’d be stupid enough to go behind yer back. Ye are truly that concerned?” he asked, waving his glass.
“Nae, ye are probably right. He’ll listen. He was about to piss himself. I’ll just give him some trading value, and he’ll forget the whole business,” Damien replied.
“I only fear that if His Lordship found us searchin’ his mail, it might nae bode well for yer relationship.”
“I couldnae give a damn about that,” Damien said. “This is about Helena. Keepin’ her safe. It’s bad enough that he still disrespects her in our bloody home, but now he wants to hold her up as bait to our enemies.” He closed his eyes. “Ye’re sure I cannae kill him?”
“Nay,” Orrick said with a chuckle. “Tell me more about the Lady, instead. I like her, and so does Gwendolyn.”
Gwendolyn was Damien’s closest cousin and Orrick’s wife. He was not surprised that she’d already met Helena and filled Orrick in.
“Ye should go and be with yer wife, Orrick,” Damien said. “Ye have done more than enough today.”
“Ach, I cannae go until ye tell me somethin’ about yer bride.” Orrick’s eyebrows rose.
Damien made a sound of frustration, and before he knew it, words were pouring out of his mouth. “We should get on well enough, and sometimes we do. I can see what it will be like when we’re Laird and Lady, but at other times she drives me mad. I have never met a woman who is so damn confusing, who is like a burr in me brain.” He stood up and began to pace. “Ye cannae imagine—she has a mouth on her and likes to argue every last point.”
“Ah, but ye could never be with a boring woman. Ye are a MacCabe—ye need an outspoken lass.”
“Of course,” Damien said with a snort. “But I need her to realize what it means to be Lady here. To move her bloody things into the Lady’s suite, at the verra least.”
“Och, can ye blame her for wantin’ to stay in Bluebell Corner? ‘Tis a lovely spot. Everyone says so.”
“It doesnae matter. I need her there. That way, I can get some peace and maybe get her out of me bloody head for five minutes. I cannae be—” Damien stopped himself. From the small smirk on Orrick’s face, he realized that he’d gone too far. “Oy, that stays between us.”
“On me honor, Milaird,” Orrick drawled and held up his glass, his smirk growing wider and wider.
“What the feck are ye laughin’ at?” Damien boomed.
Orrick sat up and shook his head. “I cannae believe I have to say this to ye, but have ye forgotten how to woo a lass?”
Damien stared at him, then pointed at the door. “Get the feck out.”
Orrick tsked. “Och, ye have, or maybe ye never had to or wanted to before. But Christ, man. Have ye even tried to woo Lady Helena?” He gave him a look over his glass as he drained it. “Ye need to keep her happy if ye want to be happy—so every happily married man has told me, and I heed them well.” His gaze softened. “Gwennie was right—ye need to woo her.”
“Woo?” Damien stared after Orrick, shaking with silent laughter. “Ye need sleep, man. Ye and yer wife.”
“Nay, I need me wife—who is right. Think on it.”
And with that, Orrick was gone, while Damien sank back into his chair.
Wooing a lass. Why did his mind go completely blank at such a thing? Had he ever wooed a lass?
It was very different from seduction or a tumble, he knew that much. However, he also had a feeling that wooing Helena Lovell would be far different from the usual attempt with a woman. A real challenge that he suspected most men would fail at.
But from the humming energy that filled his bones, he also knew that he would not.
Smiling to himself, perhaps with a little too much satisfaction, Damien sat back and considered how he might go about it.
CHAPTER 23
For the past week,Helena had woken up, worked on her translation, went to lunch, spent a few hours in Lady Merie’s cozy suite, and then spent the afternoons, and sometimes the evenings if she lost track of time, locked away in her room, surrounded by piles of books.
She had barely seen Damien, who seemed to never stop working. Even when they shared meals, someone came to speak with him or hand him a missive. More than once, she’d seen him sigh, glance at her, and then leave.
Helena wished she had more time to dedicate to her work, but she also knew it was important to spend time with her sister, Lady Merie, the other ladies, and her future family. Plus, she appreciated how the ladies took to Sophia, indulging her by bringing Jolly everywhere, and how Gwendolyn, Damien’s cousin closest in age and Orrick’s wife, took charge of shepherding Sophia and Jolly around so that she might work.
