Page 57 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
“Aileen!”
His more demanding voice stopped Aileen, but only briefly. Only enough for her eyes—cold, empty, the golden glint now razor-sharp—to find his. “I’m sorry for forcing me presence upon ye. I willnae do it again.”
This was worse than either arrow he took that day. “Aileen!”
“Please, rest well, husband.” The door swung closed behind her, yet it hardly made a sound. It was as if she’d never been there in the first place, like their moment of intimacy had been nothing more than a dream. Only the lingering scent of herbs reminded Gerald of their encounter, and it only proved to turn his stomach sour.
“Ye as well … sweet wife,” he managed under his breath.
Somehow, Aileen made it down the hall without issue. Somehow, with each servant and maid she passed, her expression remained pleasantly neutral, managing a brief expression of relief that the staff within the castle had not been harmed.
Somehow, she entered Mollie’s room without much fanfare, gently thanked Sarah for watching over her sleeping sister, and dismissed her for the evening. And, somehow, even after Sarah began to inquire about her extended absence with a knowing smirk, Aileen managed a gentle smile and reassurance that all would be spoken of tomorrow.
And even then, when the door closed behind her and she was left alone at last, Aileen found herself unable to cry. Perhaps it was because she didn’t want to wake Mollie or Bannock. Perhaps she felt it inappropriate to unload her sorrows in such proximity to her little sister, knowing full well that such negativity would be noticed.
More than anything, Aileen simply felt empty inside. Her tears had already been shed for Gerald, and she realized now that it had not been from joy, but to mourn something that hadn’t yet happened.
Somehow, deep within her subconscious, Aileen had known. She had known their moment would not last, that the sweet, intimate moment between them could not be her future. He had toldher from the start that they had to remain strangers, and now, Aileen knew why.
She wanted to feel something—anger, desperation, anything but the aching void that now lingered in her core where warmth once spread freely—but she simply couldn’t. She was tired, she was worn out, and tomorrow, she would have to go on as if that moment in the tub had not happened. As if she hadn’t been fully vulnerable with a man for the first time in her life.
Aileen stood in the center of Mollie’s room for a good, long while. Eventually, she moved toward one of the armchairs settled next to the hearth, sinking into the cushion and the empty malaise that had spread now throughout her mind. She felt nothing staring into the flickering firelight; an empty, listless nothing that eventually tricked her into a dreamless sleep.
31
Breakfast the next morning was a melancholy affair. Aileen hardly touched her own plate, feeling no need to hide her malaise with Mollie still fast asleep in bed. Gerald sat across from her with a similarly full plate, trying to catch her gaze every so often between lulls of conversation. She couldn’t make herself meet his eyes, and instead kept hers forward on their guests.
“It’s a miracle the hounds hardly had a scratch on them,” Olivia said.
“Aye, but that’s the magic of a talented hounds master,” Arthur teased, ribbing Nathan as the man-at-arms tried not to choke on his drink.
“Ye flatter me, me Laird,” Nathan coughed, setting his goblet aside. “But I daenae think the hounds would’ve fared as well if MacLiddel’s men werenae so fierce.”
The MacDonnells expectedly turned to look at Gerald. Aileen didn’t follow suit. Olivia seemed to notice first, gently brushing her hair over her shoulder in an attempt to catch Aileen’s attention. She did look up, but at Olivia’s worried frown, Aileen simply shook her head. “Ye’ll be headed out soon, aye?” she asked instead.
“As soon as all our supplies are loaded up,” Arthur replied through a mouthful of eggs. “And with those magnificent steeds of yers, we’ll make it back to the shores in nay time! Suppose I could convince ye to let us keep a few, what with us being such a big help and all?” he added a boisterous laugh after the fact, clearly not serious with his demands.
“They’re yers to keep,” Gerald said.
Whatever light atmosphere the MacDonnells had attempted to foster was immediately snuffed out. Arthur offered one more chuckle, then returned to his plate, eyeing his wife with a furrowed brow. She simply rested her hand against his shoulder, once more casting a worried look Aileen’s way. But Aileen didn’t have the energy anymore to express herself, and went back to stirring her fork amidst the mushy mess on her plate.
When it came time for the MacDonnells to leave, Aileen stood stiffly at her husband’s side, bidding their allies goodbye and safe travels. Mollie had been roused at this point, and she eagerly hugged and kissed each and every one of the hounds, whispering a quiet thanks for all they’d done. Bannock, uncharacteristically, sat patiently beside Aileen, her front leg nolonger bandaged as she offered the occasional gruff yip toward the pack.
Olivia pulled Aileen into one more tight hug, whispering into her ear as she did so. “Are ye all right, hen?”
As she pulled away, Aileen could only offer a nod. It was far easier to lie than try to explain the emptiness inside her.
“See ye around, Gerald,” Arthur said, offering his fellow laird a firm handshake. “And daenae worry about writing to the others about Carswell. I’ll make sure it’s handled. Wouldnae want ye tryin’ to take all the glory for yerself, aye?”
Gerald offered a cold nod of his own, dampening Arthur’s smile immediately. He offered an arm to his wife and, with a quick boost onto her silvery-dappled horse, the MacDonnells set off from the main gate, the hooves of their horses leaving a trail of deep tracks behind them.
After watching them for a long moment, Mollie suddenly spoke up. “Do ye think they can come back for a visit?”
Aileen glanced her husband’s way, but he did not look at her. With a gentle sigh, she knelt down and lifted Mollie onto her hip, doing her best to offer as genuine a smile as she could. “We’ll have to see, Mollie. It’s a big job, cleaning up after a fight.”
“They could’ve helped us clean up,” Mollie pointed out. “And I wanted Nathan to teach me more.” She turned to Gerald,outstretching a hand to tug on his cloak. “Gerald, can we write again so?—?”
Gerald shifted his shoulder away from Mollie, turning his back to the pair as he trudged back to the castle. The little girl blinked, looking back at Aileen with a tearfully hurt expression.
