Page 54 of Beguiled By the Highlander
With that, he opened the door, as she silently seethed at his brazen promise. He presumed that she’d enjoy the marriage bed so thoroughly, she’d overlook propriety.
She’d never allow that to happen. It didn’t matter how much a part of her still craved his touch. That was something she’d have to learn to live with. Aye, and hide it, too, until it finally faded to nothingness.
And another thing. She had to stop believing everything he said. Hadn’t she learned that lesson the hard way?
She cast her glance around the good-sized antechamber, with two chairs set before the hearth and a great oak chest along one wall. Rushes and dried herbs were strewn across the floor, which gave the chamber a fresh scent, although without any rugs, or tapestries on the wall, even with the fire blazing there was a distinct chill in the air.
She suppressed a shiver, but she wasn’t going to let him think she’d accept every word he uttered without proof. “Where is the lady’s chamber? Perhaps ye have unrealistic expectations as to what I find acceptable.”
“I’m not lying to ye, Isolde.” There was a faint note of affront in his tone, but she didn’t deign to answer since they both knew she had the perfect response. He expelled a harsh sigh and shook his head. “Very well, the lady’s chamber is through there.” He indicated a door on the far wall. “It backs onto the master chamber, but for an unfathomable reason the chambers don’t possess a connecting door.”
He released her hand and marched across the chamber, before flinging open the offending door. “Let me know yer opinion.”
She inclined her head and joined him at the door. Good Lord. What had happened in there? The chamber was empty of furniture, the shutters on the windows were broken and let in the icy wind, and chunks of stone were scattered across the floor.
“It certainly needs some work,” she conceded. Curse the man. He hadn’t lied to her. But why was it in such a dreadful state? “Why is it uninhabitable?”
“I’ll make it habitable. That doesn’t mean I want ye sleeping in here.”
Exasperated, she rounded on him. “That’s not an answer, and ye well know it, William Campbell. How could the baron allow it to fall into such a state of disrepair in the first place?”
To be sure, his lady wife had died many years ago. But this chamber wasn’t merely sadly neglected. It appeared maliciously damaged.
Instead of a cutting retort, which she expected, William frowned, as though her criticism made little sense. “Creagdoun has never belonged to my father. I assumed ye knew. The earl granted me the castle and land after I claimed it in battle three years ago.”
All her preconceived notions shifted and, obscurely, she felt wrong-footed. “Well, how the devil was I supposed to know that? Ye’ve told me nothing of yer life, never mind about yer castle.”
“If ye recall, I extended an invitation three years ago for ye to visit Creagdoun. Lady Helga declined on yer behalf. Did ye not receive the message, Isolde?”
Aye, she had. And the reminder did not improve her mood. “The message said nothing about ye having just been granted the castle.”
“Would it have made any difference?”
Damn him. “No,” she admitted.
“Right.”
“But still,” she persisted. “Ye could have told me once we were wed.”
“To be fair, we are only just wed.”
She heard the hint of laughter in his voice. She was so glad one of them found this discussion amusing. “Who owned Creagdoun before yer conquest?”
The humor drained from his eyes, and perversely she was sorry for it, but she couldn’t live in ignorance.
“Torcall MacGregor. Ye know—I assume ye know—of the bad blood between Clans Campbell and MacGregor?”
“We heard how Clan MacGregor seized Campbell land in Argyll.”
“Torcall MacGregor set his sights on Dunstrunage. A fatal error of judgement. The castle is a strategic stronghold and can never be allowed to fall into MacGregor hands. They were crushed, and for my service the earl granted me Creagdoun.” He indicated they should return to the antechamber, and he led her to the other door. “That’s when I discovered how much work it needed to bring it up to a standard fit for a bride. Although the castle itself is sound enough, and I’ve improved its fortifications.”
He opened the door, and they went through to the master bedchamber. At least in here the chill wasn’t as noticeable, as faded tapestries hung upon the wall and threadbare rugscovered the wooden floor. Had everything she’d seen so far belonged to the disposed MacGregor?
“’Tis not what ye’re used to, I know.” He folded his arms and cast a grim glare around the chamber. “My plan had been to improve the inside of the castle during the next few months, so it’d be fit for ye before we wed. But now ye’re here, ye can pick whatever furnishings ye best like.”
“I believe repairing the lady’s chamber should be the priority, before commissioning pretty fripperies.” Although without more tapestries to put on the wall, the lady’s chamber—even when it was repaired—would be as cold as a tomb. But she could hardly back down now, especially when William’s mouth twitched as though he found her remark amusing.
“The estate can well afford both,” he said. “Now ye’re here, I promise to see to the lady’s chamber. And in the meantime, ye must tell me what luxuries Creagdoun lacks. I won’t have a wife of mine going without her essential comforts.”
