Page 28 of Marry the Highland Villain
A flash of hurt crossed Brigid’s face. Her jaw clenched, and even in the fading light, he could see the gleam of tears in her eyes. “I thought ye did trust me—at least a little. Ye trusted me enough to let me come here, didnae ye?”
“As if me or my brother would trust Laird Auchter’s grandchild.” Oliver’s retort cut through the air before Conall could stop him.
Brigid stiffened as if she’d been slapped across the face.
“If ye’ll excuse me, My Laird,” she said, her voice thick with tears. “‘Twas a lovely day, Emily, and I thank ye for it. But I am feelin’ rather tired, and of course, I have my purchases to put away. If ye’ll excuse me…”
With that, she hurried away without giving Conall a second glance, her shoulders tight and hunched inward with clear unhappiness.
“Och, Conall,” Emily said, her voice soft but filled with derision. “Could ye nae havepretendedye were concerned for the lass, rather than yer authority and yer rules?”
Then, she was gone, following Brigid to the castle and leaving Conall feeling like a complete and utter fool.
CHAPTER 10
Conall scowledout the window of his study. For the third night running, he was feeling frustrated. Oliver was still angry and suspicious of his new bride. As a result, the conversation they’d had after retrieving the lasses from the market had been short, and rather sullen on his younger brother’s part. And as for his new betrothed…
Brigid seemed to be avoiding him. In fact, there was no ‘seemed’ about it—Brigid wasdefinitelyavoiding him. He was willing to concede that he’d spoken to her harshly—too harshly, perhaps—but he hadn’t expected the result of his hasty words, which was her refusal to attend supper in the Great Hall with him. He’d intended to offer her an apology and an explanation for his short-tempered actions, but now he had no idea what to do. How was he to apologize or explain when she wasn’t prepared to even talk to him?
And it wasn’t just the incident at the market Conall wanted to discuss with her. There were other things on his mind. Like hersisters’ attendance at the wedding, for instance—or the kisses they’d shared but had yet to talk about.
Conall huffed, then finished his drink. He knew himself well enough to know he’d get nothing done in his current state of mind. Perhaps a walk around the castle would do him good. He set his glass on the desk, then strode out of the room, only to stop short at the sight of his bride already in the corridor.
Brigid blushed, then ducked her head. “My Laird…”
“Conall.” For some reason, it stung to hear her address him so formally. “I told ye, ye’re to be my wife, and I’ll nae be called ‘My Laird’ by my wife.”
“Conall, then. If you will excuse me…”
“Brigid. Wait.”
She stopped, and Conall cursed himself inwardly for the tone he’d used. He was so used to snapping out orders, but he hadn’t meant to make it sound like that, especially not when he was supposed to be apologizing to her.
“I… Are ye all right?” he asked, painfully aware of how inadequate the question was, under the circumstances.
“Aye. I was just goin’ down to the kitchens for a bit of warm milk. I…” To his surprise, she flushed a deeper hue. “I… often drink a glass when I’m unable to sleep. I find it helps.”
“There’s naught wrong with that.” He often availed himself of whiskey or mulled wine in the winter. “I’ll accompany ye if ye dinnae mind the company.”
“I dinnae need to be followed or guided like a child,” Brigid replied, looking up at him with suspicion. “Unless ye still think me a spy?”
Conall grimaced. “I dinnae think ye a spy, Brigid. I would, however, like a chance to get to ken my betrothed a little better. I’ve seen precious little of ye since ye arrived.”
And nothing at all since ye returned from the market this eventide.
“Emily and I have been workin’ on my wardrobe, furnishin’ my room, and preparin’ my wedding dress, as well as puttin’ away my purchases from this afternoon,” Brigid said, not looking at him.
“Even so, ye’re avoidin’ me. And I’d like to ken why.” He moved closer and caught her chin, registering the stiffening of her shoulders and her spine. “Is it because I kissed ye?”
“Nay. It is only…” She hesitated as if trying to make up her mind about something.
“Aye?”
Something shattered, like a crystal breaking apart in her emerald gaze. “Ye said there was nothing to discuss of this wedding, or this marriage, save yer will as Laird and the rules ye choose to dictate. And ye proved it well this evening at the market. I wasnae so late that I needed ye to come and drag me back like an errant child, Conall. If that is to be my life with ye, then why would ye need to ken anything about me? It isnae as if ye wish to hear what I say or care for my feelings. It isnae as if ye care for me at all.”
“I never said there was nothing to discuss…” Conall trailed off, remembering how he had responded to her request to discuss the terms of the wedding in their very first conversation. “Aye. Well, I didnae mean it like that.”
“And how did ye mean it, then? Ye chose to offer me marriage rather than death, and yet…” Her voice cracked a little. “Am I to be separated forever from my home? Am I to be caged and leashed like a mare ye dinnae wish to let out of the paddock? Am I to stand alone on my wedding day, simply because ye will it?”
