Page 16 of The Highlander's Inconvenient Wife
Perhaps there was a better chance of them talking things over if she was forced to come down. He’d even gone as far as dismissing Gregg from his post after he had learned that she was possibly on the run from a man that threatened to hold her captive. He felt bad about how he had treated her, given the situation she had left behind, whatever it may be. Years of fighting to keep his loved ones safe had made him harsh and quick to assume the worst in any given situation.
The ale burned on the way down his throat as he looked at the ceiling of the dining hall. The long table that seated twenty was decked to the nines with bannocks, fruits, nuts, and eggs, but he hadn’t touched a thing. If he had to be honest with himself, he felt bad about the night before and the way things had ended with her. He never meant to force her into a situation where she felt cornered when she was so clearly hiding something uncomfortable in her past.
He had hated the fear and anguish on her face when she’d yelled at him about running away from men just like him.
Does she really think me such a monster?
He’d never cared before what anyone thought of him, but he suddenly wanted to ensure that the feisty English woman who had come trapesing into his life knew that he wasn’t all bad. He lived in caution for a very good reason, but it shouldn’t be the sum of his being. He absentmindedly brought his hand to his eye patch and gave a bitter smile. An English lady most likely had never even seen a scar in her life, let alone… Perhaps he really was a beast to her, just like he was to everyone else. For some reason, this was the first time the thought bothered him.
The doors creaking open drew his attention back to the present as he stood to welcome Joan to the table. “Good mornin’,” he greeted her in a tone that he presumed to be more than friendly in an attempt to show her how welcoming he was.
Joan shot him a cautious look before hesitating with her hand on the door.
“Please,” he said when it seemed as if she were about to leave, “join me for breakfast?" he held his hand out to the seat beside him at the table.
Her eyes darted from the seat to the food and back to his face.
“I had some food laid out so that we could share a meal together,” he tried again in the hopes that she’d accept. They needed to clear the air before she continued on to her friends.
“I guess…” she said, gingerly taking a few steps forward before making her way to the table. It was evident by the way she eyed the food that she was ready to eat.
Jasper quickly made his way around the table and pulled out the chair beside his, ensuring that she was settled before returning to his own seat. “Would ye care for some ale?” he asked and reached for her goblet.
“I would, thank you.” She seemed cool and distant as she answered all of his questions with automated responses, keeping her eyes on her plate with pursed lips as she chewed the inside of her cheek.
The breakfast continued for a few minutes in silence with Joan only speaking when she needed him to pass her anything on the table.
“How are ye finding yer chambers?” he attempted to push through her barriers and break the ice with ‘safer’ topics of discussion.
Joan stopped sipping her ale and looked at him with a deliberate look on her face. “Just fine; they’re at the end of the hall. Why would I not find them?” Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
The utter look of defiance on her face made him snigger.
“I don’t understand why you are sniggering?” she seemed annoyed as she glared at him. “I was shown to my chambers last night.”
“Aye, ye were lass; I didnae mean to offend ye,” he said as he bit back the amusement he felt at her blatant sarcasm. She was clearly more than just vexed from their argument the night before.
Joan looked down at her plate with a veiled expression in her eyes. It seemed to Jasper as if she were trying her best to hold onto her anger. He didn’t blame her; he’d been too forceful since the minute she’d arrived. There was a lot of work that needed to be done if he were to gain her confidence.
Why am I so concerned with gaining her trust?
He found himself wondering where he had changed; the woman had been in his castle for less than a day, and already he had begun to pander to her needs, wanting her approval and good opinion. The realization was concerning to him to say the least.
“Have you written to Laird MacKinnon yet?” she broke through his thoughts as she reached for another bannock.
“Nae,” he said as he shook his head and focussed on the conversation at hand. “I thought it may be better if ye write to them yerself. I’m sure they will believe ye more than a stranger they have never met. It may send the wrong impression if the letter comes directly from me.”
“That makes sense,” she conceded, taking a bite of her bannock. “Darragh may think I am in danger if you were to write to him.”
“Are ye implying that even me letters would be too threatening?” he asked her in amusement as the atmosphere between them relaxed. It was easier to talk to her now.
“I don’t know, my laird, I can’t say that I’ve ever read a letter from you.” She gave him a cheeky smile. “If you use words like must, prisoner, smart mouth, and pain in your neck, he might just find you to be slightly threatening.”
“I never said ye are a pain in me neck,” he defended himself.
“But you did think it,” Joan accused him and laughed. “It’s been written on your face since the moment I arrived.”
“Aye, that is true,” he reached for his ale and smiled at her over the brim of his goblet.
