Page 65 of Bride of the Merciless Laird
“Put me down, ye big beast.” She squealed again, kicking her legs, while he insisted on teasing her some more, raising her in his arms as if to drop her into the icy water.
“Dinnae ye dare, Ewan Mackenzie, fer I’ll ne’er speak wi’ ye again if ye commit such a barbarous act.”
Laughing, he carried her up the bank to a grassy spot and lowered her. “Ye’re nay fun.”
She harrumphed. “Well, unless ye’re wishing fer yer wife tae die of cold-shock, I wouldnae call it fun?”
At that moment a wave from Annora caught their eye. Ewan hurried down to see if there was a problem, while Tyra leaned back against a large boulder, sheltering in the sunshine, closing her eyes.
Ewan was by her side again in a matter of moments, grinning broadly.
“Is all well?”
“Aye. Annora and Edmund are returning to the keep. Annora claims she’s tired and wishes tae rest in the castle, but I caught her wink and think she is simply wishing tae leave us alone together fer a change.”
Tyra took his hand and pulled him down to sit beside her.
Suddenly serious at the touch of her small hand in his, he raised it to his lips and pressed them to her softness. He looked up, catching her gaze, his heart thundering in his chest, enfolding her in his arms
“Nay, me sweet lady, I dinnae wish me wee wife tae die of cold-shock. I wish her tae be warm and soft in me arms as she is now.”
She took his large, calloused hand and bent to press it to her lips. “It is where I wish tae be, husband. Held, like this, in yer embrace.”
Her eyes were sparkling, her shapely lips smiling at him, and he felt something inside him give way, a dam of feelings bursting and rushing through every fiber of his being. She was more than precious to him. She was everything.
His gaze swept the loch and he turned to her. “’Tis because I care so much fer ye, little one, that I wish tae protect ye by keeping me distance from ye.” He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. It was so much more difficult than he’d ever dreamed, yet it was time he told her everything about his previous marriage and its tragic ending.
She looked at him, her brows drawn tight, a question on her lips.
Holding tight to her hand, trying to keep the deep sorrow from his eyes, he began his story.
“I was married tae Marjorie MacRae. She and I played together as children and it was always assumed we’d wed. Ranald MacRae was me faither’s dearest friend, the chief of Clan MacRae, our closest ally.”
Tyra nodded without speaking, as he continued.
“I always had great affection fer Marjorie, not as a lover, but as the dear friend as she had always been tae me.”
He toyed with Tyra’s hand, tracing circles in her palm with his finger.
“We were both well aware of our obligation tae our clans. The alliance was more important than either of us, and there was great pressure on us both tae produce a wean who would one day continue the leadership of the clan.”
“And was there a wean?” Tyra whispered so softly he could scarcely make out her words.
He shook his head. Even now, after years had passed, the memories were still raw and painful.
“There was great happiness when Marjorie became with-child. Both our clans were overjoyed and it was a happy time. We truly cared fer one another and wanted naething more than tae bring a bairn intae this world, fer us and fer our clans.” He twisted a strand of dried grass between his fingers, feeling the press of tears behind his eyes.
“When the wean was lost after a few months had passed, it was as if a dark cloud had passed over us all. But…” he paused, taking a deep breath and breathing out slowly, “dark clouds pass, and the day came when Marjorie was again with-child.”
“This time the rejoicing was muted. We were all afraid tae be loud in our celebration. So, we kept tae ourselves. All was well and then her pains began and the wean was ready tae be born.”
Tyra took his hand and squeezed it. With her other hand she rubbed his shoulder where a painful tightness had formed as he spoke.
She met his eyes. “And there is nay Marjorie now, and ye have neither son nor daughter.”
He bit hard on his lower lip, shaking his head.
“Did they go taegether?” Tyra asked softly.
