Page 36 of Marry the Highland Villain
Her mind made up, Brigid slipped into an over-robe and slippers, then made her way to Conall’s chambers. She’d never been in them before, but Emily had shown her where they were, in preparation for the wedding night. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked firmly.
A stern voice answered her. “Leave me. I dinnae want aught.”
It was tempting to do as he asked and leave him well alone.
For a brief moment, Brigid wanted nothing more than to return to her rooms and the warm bed that was calling to her. Then, she steeled herself. She had come with a task to complete, and complete it she would. If Conall wished to be angry at her invasion of his chambers, then so be it.
She tested the handle, and it gave in her grasp—the door wasn’t locked, and a slight push showed it was not bolted against intrusion either. Emboldened by the discovery, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
“Conall…” she began, before freezing at the sight before her.
There was a large tub next to the fireplace, and within the tub was her betrothed. Naked. She could see every inch of his muscular chest, the strong, well-defined muscles of his abdomen…
Brigid flushed almost painfully scarlet when she realized just how little the gently steaming water concealed.
Conall raised an eyebrow. “I said I didnae want aught,” he said, his expression unreadable.
“I ken. I just…” Brigid swallowed, forgetting what she was about to say.
Her mouth and throat felt dry. She tried to keep her gaze fixed firmly on her betrothed’s face, but her eyes kept drifting downward, almost against her will.
He was scarred like any warrior, but not as much as she would have expected, especially given the wicked-looking mark on his face. His skin was almost the color of burnished copper, save that it was a few shades darker on his face and arms, and gleamed under the steam from the bath.
“Aye?” He quirked an eyebrow again, reminding her she’d yet to explain why she was here.
Brigid took a deep breath. She had come with a purpose, she reminded herself.
“I… apologize for disturbin’ ye,” she began, doing her best to keep her eyes on his face. “It’s just that I wish to apologize for my reaction earlier this evening. I was shocked and scared, but I understand that ye did what ye felt ye must. I understand, too, that ye took action as much for my benefit as for yer own… and if ye hadnae, I probably wouldnae be here now.” She paused. “Thank ye, Conall. Thank ye for savin’ me.”
“’Twas simply what needed to be done.” Conall shrugged, and Brigid tried not to watch the way his muscles moved smoothly under his damp skin. She could feel her cheeks growing hot as she looked at him. “I dinnae blame ye for reactin’ so. It’s nae every day that two men are killed afore ye.”
“It isnae,” Brigid agreed, nodding. “I dinnae ken ye very well, Conall, but even so, we’re to be married on the morrow. Since we’re goin’ to spend the rest of our lives together, trust is important. We need to learn to trust each other.”
Conall’s expression darkened. Then, he rose from the bath in a single, fluid motion. Brigid gasped and whirled around to face the door, her cheeks burning as if she stood too close to a flame, at risk of being scorched by the heat.
A firm hand caught her uninjured shoulder and turned her around. Brigid yelped and jerked her eyes upward to Conall’s face, before realizing that he’d wrapped a towel, kilt-like, around his hips.
“What are ye…?”
“Trust, ye say. Was it trust, then, that had ye wanderin’ so close to the walls of the castle? Or were ye plannin’ to run from me?”
Brigid glared at him, her mortification pushed aside by anger. “I gave ye my word, and I’ve nay intention of breakin’ it. I was only out walkin’ to get some fresh air. ’Twas happenstance I was so close to the wall. I was walkin’ the length of the garden path afore goin’ inside to get some milk.”
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Ye an’ yer milk…”
He tilted his head, his wet hair sliding across his bare shoulders and sending droplets of water gliding down the smooth, bronzed skin.
“Truly? I thought the guards accosted ye because ye were leavin’?”
“They accosted me because they hate who my mother’s sire is and because they’d imbibed too much mead,” Brigid retorted. “I’d never have gone closer to the gates than the garden path unless it was to look over the wall to see if my sisters were approaching. But nae even Megan would wish to be travelin’ strange roads in the dark.”
Conall studied her, his eyes dark and his face expressionless. Then, he shook his head. “I believe ye didnae wish to run, but nae that ye were out only for fresh air. There’s somethin’ on yer mind. Tell me what it is, Brigid. Mayhap I can be of some help to ye.”
Brigid bit her lip. “My sisters havenae arrived,” she said in a low voice that trembled slightly with emotion.
Conall listened carefully, then nodded.
“Aye, I ken,” he said. “There’s more concernin’ ye than that, though. Ye’ve been pensive since the night we agreed on the terms, and I would like to ken why.”
